#it's refreshing to be depressed and not anxious again finally

[kentosovertime]

(n.) the extraordinary sense upon first meeting someone, that you will one day fall in love

➳ nanami kento x gojo's sister/afab reader - 6.5k (oopsies)

➳ a/n: does nanami deserve a happy ending after shibuya? did anything happen between reader and geto after nanami left? (so many ideas just off of this one fic and its so refreshing to write gojo platonically for once) enjoy~

➳ cw: explicit content, explicit language, tension, angst, choking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, breeding, stranger to friends to strangers to lovers, idiots to lovers on a journey, miscommunication, everyone's depressed anxious and existential

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10 years ago…

“And why exactly am I the one to be dragged along for this?” Nanami’s eye twitches in annoyance as he follows Gojo down the hallway to where the classrooms are. “Where’s Geto? This seems more his speed.”

“I’m not bringing Geto along for this.” Gojo scoffs loudly at the idea. The last thing he needed was Geto giving her fuck me eyes like he did when he stayed at the clan houses for the summer. “The pervert can’t be trusted with such a delicate task.” 

“Trouble in paradise, Satoru?” His voice drawls, bored out of his mind already. These dramatics were a waste of his time. Whatever this was, he didn't need to be here. 

Gojo’s blue glare pins him as he stops outside the first year classroom, an edge of distress in his gaze.

“I brought you because I trust you around my-” A cloud of dust suddenly plumes around Satoru’s head and Nanami watches as a chalkboard eraser clatters to the ground from where it nailed him in the… is his infinity off?

“It's the first day, you ass!” Someone hisses behind Satoru, just out of Nanami’s field of vision as Satoru rubs the back of his head with a pout. “Can I go one god damn day without you showing up and making my life more annoying than you make it at home?”

Nanami's eyes widen slightly as he peeks out from behind Satoru to take in the girl handing Gojo’s ass to him. Tall.. curvy… with long white hair- his thoughts are cut off by a pair of squealing girls inside the classroom. A quick look has him seeing them pointing at Satoru and whispering, along with a boy who’s rolling his eyes at their antics while keeping a very close eye on you. 

“How did you even know I was here?” He whines, rubbing the bump on his head. “You should be paying attention to Yaga.”  

Nanami watches as she huffs out an exasperated sigh and points at her eyes, covered by sunglasses.

“Six eyes.” You snip, turning your finger to point aggressively at him. “And you stomp around like a toddler and control your volume as well as one. Where’s Geto? He’s the capable one between the two of you.”

“Sorry.” Nanami finally pipes up, giving you a small wave as he clears his throat. “I was enlisted instead. You try controlling this menace… You must be his.. sister?” 

“Mhmm..” You turn your blue gaze to him, taking him in as you nod your head in Satoru’s direction. “Surely you’re not friends with this? I implore you to have better taste.”

You didn’t know your brother had decent friends, you hum to yourself. Your sharp eyes take in his presence, the cursed energy around him steady and calm despite dealing with Satoru. His presence and attention feels soft… there’s a rightness to it.

“See, Nanamin? She’s just as bad! Stop acting like I’m the only one who’s annoying. And you-” He turns to you with an assessing glare. “Talking about Geto a lot... obsessed much?” 

“Must run in the family.” A bored yawn comes from your mouth as your brother’s teeth grit. 

You 1, Satoru 0. 

An uncharacteristic snort flies from Nanami’s throat and your heart flies into your throat knowing that you’ve managed to almost make him laugh. He’s so serious you’re sure it's not a common occurrence. You want to hear him do it again. 

“We’ll leave you to class.” He doesn’t give Satoru the option as he pushes him down the hallway and out of the building. “I’ll see you la-” 

Nanami turns to the quiet spot looming behind him that’s normally filled with Satoru’s endless prattling, only to see him gazing up at the building with a worried look on his face, chewing on his cheek in thought. 

“I had to threaten the clan to get her here… helps that they can’t touch me now.” He says softly. “They don’t see how good she is… they only see that she doesn't have the limitless technique. Not how she’s used the eyes to adapt other techniques.” 

“Where else would she be if not here?” Nanami is sure that he knows the answer, hoping he’ll hear something else come from his senior’s lips. 

“Sixteen’s a little too young to be breeding stock for the Zen’ins. Naoya’s a piece of shit.” Gojo shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs. His eyes meet Nanami’s over the rim of his round sunglasses, more serious than he’s ever seen him. “Geto and I.. We won’t be on campus often.” 

He holds Satoru’s gaze for a moment longer, giving a quick nod in agreement. Even if he feels he’s being selfish in fulfilling this for him. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

By the end of your second year in Jujutsu High, you’ve felt like you can breathe for some time now. It’s not that you don’t appreciate everything that Satoru did to get you here, but it's nice not to have to deal with the shadow he cast while he was a third year. 

At least you had Ken, even if he’d be graduating at the end of the month, leaving you alone here without someone to lean on. You feel he counts on you just as much as you do him, opening up about the hole Haibara left in his life before you came to school here. 

You lay on a couch in one of the common rooms, your feet propped on his lap as he reads. You examine the ends of your hair absentmindedly, trying to build up the courage you need to tell him how you feel. 

There’s no guarantee that you’ll see him again once he graduates and takes on jobs. No guarantee that he’ll survive them. You don’t want to have regrets when it comes to him. Not when you’ve never had someone like him in your lonely life in the Gojo clan. 

“Ken…” You start, licking your lips nervously. 

“Yeah, hun?” He shifts to gaze at you over his book, looking at you curiously. 

“I…” You start, swallowing around the lump in your throat, chickening out at the last second and changing the subject before he can ask why you’re acting so cagey. “Where are you planning to be based after graduation?”

“Oh.. I..” Your eyes note a nervous flare in his cursed energy, his body tensing under your legs. You pull your legs from him, sitting up as your brows pull together. 

“Is everything ok, Ken?” You asked worriedly. “Listen, I can take care of someone if they’re bothering you.” 

“It's not that…” He sighs and closes his book carefully before turning to you. “I haven’t told anyone yet but… I’m leaving jujutsu. I’m going to work a normal person's job away from all this death and despair.” 

“O-Oh?” Your heart seizes, scared he’s going somewhere that you won’t be able to reach him. Your voice cracks, betraying your emotions. “You’re still going to visit… right?”

“N-No… I don’t think I can do this,” he waves his hands around at the school, “anymore, hun. It’s too much. All the pain.” 

You stare at him, your blue eyes unguarded as they start to mist. He’d just leave you behind? Not talk to you? Not beg you to come with him even if your clan will never let you follow?

“Good to know I mean nothing to you.” You bite out, your bitter attitude you reserve for those you’ve written off. This is just the first one to mean something to you. 

You leave before he can see your tears fall. There’s no death for a jujutsu sorcerer without regrets… you suppose yours will be no different. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Present Day

You yawn and settle in the chair, crossing your arms as you watch Satoru sitting in the seat across from you. 

“I trust you’re not destroying my house with that student of yours.” You hum, examining your manicured nails. 

“Well Yaga’s cursed doll may have broken a TV but I replaced it. Yuji needs to watch his movies.” His grin widens.

“Then I don’t get why you had the higher ups pull me from my assignment.” You huff in offense. “That was good money.” 

“Like you need it.” He rolls his eyes and unwraps a pastry that he munches on loudly. “Besides I’d like you to hop in to help with Yuji.” 

“Yes, master. Anything for you, oh, Strongest One.” His jaw twitches and you mentally note another win on your tally board. “You really have him just sitting in my basement watching movies? Remind me to pray you never have kids.”

“I’m fantastic with kids! They love me!” He argues before dropping into a more serious tone. “I have someone I trust with him but I was stopped by two unregistered special grade curses last night. Keep them alive pretty please.”

“Someone you trust? I thought that list was nonexistent these days.” You figure keeping them alive involves ensuring Sukuna stays sealed and these two stay healed up with your reverse curse technique. 

Satoru’s phone rings in his pocket, making him smirk when he sees who it is. 

“The sewer?” Your nose crinkles in disgust as you listen, wondering why curses can’t appear in a five star hotel and spa. You’ll make sure that your dry cleaner’s bill makes its way to your brother if he expects you to go there. “I have a higher ups to terrorize but I can drop off some back up for you.”

“You better be providing hazard pay for my clothing.” You mutter as he hangs up, giving you a shit eating grin. 

“You could try not wearing $900 shoes while fighting curses.”

“Says the man who spends over a thousand on one shirt.” You scoff. 

“They don’t get dirty. One of us has limitless.” You glower at him as he pretends to draw a tally on his side of the board. “Don’t look at me like that. At least you won’t be bored.”

Satoru stands, picking an invisible piece of lint off of his navy blue coat, waiting for you to stand, placing a hand is his so he can teleport you. 

Sparing poor Ichiji a ride into the city for you and putting his plan into motion for you? You should be thanking him for being such a wonderful brother. He’s truly the best matchmaker in Japan. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Nanami panted in exertion, his stamina starting to fail, his movement growing sloppy as he compensates for the wound seeping blood into the torn fabric of his shirt. He dodges the swing from the patchwork curse in front of him, in a state to only be able to defend. He grits his teeth in frustration, the match up unfair when he can’t damage the soul of his opponent that’s constantly in flux. He needs to distract him long enough to make a break for it and report this to Gojo. 

A light, quicker cadence of footsteps enters his range of hearing as he ducks behind a large piece of debris, not seeing the arm that had shifted yet again, bending around the rubble to reach for the killing blow, but it never comes. Instead his vision is filled with the flash of blue cursed energy, the veins of energy moving to push the curse’s reach away, grabbing a hold at launching him across the room. 

“Thank yo-” His mouth goes dry as a blur of long white hair streaks across his field of vision, charging the curse from where she slammed him into a pillar. “Don’t let him touch you!” 

Fear like he’s never known floods his system. You shouldn’t be here. Not if it means exposing you to the possibilities that this curse presents. He won’t let you be the next face that he sees, torn, bloody, and lifeless, when he closes his eyes at night. 

“I know.” You snap at him, your cursed energy wrapping around your body like a blanket, making the curse’s attacks graze right over you as energy blasts forth and ties its way around every piece of the curse it touches, slowing him now, sealing him like the talismans you specialize in before he graduated. 

“I forget you know everything.” He grunts, the impatience and immaturity bubbling up to the surface as the memories of your last conversation together flashes through his mind.

“I should have known Satoru Gojo’s sister would give me a run for my money.” The curse cackles maniacally, continuing to fight but slowly drawing back as her technique starts to overwhelm him. “He’ll be so pleased to know you’re a pawn to use in his plan.” 

Nanami circles around him, running towards a weak spot in the wall, grateful that at least he has an opening to end this for now. He swings his blunt blade at the 7:3 weak spot, shattering the concrete and catching the curse off guard. 

“Put me down!” You hiss as he appears suddenly, wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you to his good side to drag you away from the curse laying in the rubble behind them. “Let me finish the damn fight, Kento!” 

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t put you down until you’re out of the sewer and approaching the road, his pain taking over as he presses a hand against the wound and his hand comes away coated in blood, turning your face sheet white. 

“You’re hurt-” You reach out to him automatically, knowing you can help but you pull away at the last second. You can’t do this out in the open. There’s somewhere you can bring him to patch him up. 

“Where did you take me?” He asks warrily, unsettled by the ritzy interior of the building they’re in and that the door man didn’t even bat an eye when the two of you entered in this state. 

“Satoru owns the building.” You say plainly, refusing to meet him in the eye. He supposes he deserves such a reaction from you, knowing he hurt you all those years ago. 

He follows you into the elevator and up to the top floor, taking in the penthouse apartment that screams Satoru as soon as they enter. 

“Uh uh.” You glare at him as he tries to move into the living room to sit to sew himself shut to stop the bleeding. “Bathroom. You bleed on Satoru’s couch and he’ll have my ass. I’ll be right in to help you.” 

He opens his mouth to ask how you could possibly help him, but thinks better of it considering your mood. He listens, leaving you to where you disappeared into the kitchen to get a drink. 

He leans against the counter of the sink, pressing a towel he found against the wound, dialing Satoru’s number to warn him about the unregistered curse that can kill with a single touch. 

“Want to tell me why you’re doing this?” He rumbles low in his chest, his eyes darting to the crack in the door, making sure you weren’t lurking where you could hear him. “You know she wasn’t ready to see me.”

“If I told you, you’d call me a liar.” Satoru sings across the line, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. “Maybe I’m just being your bestest friend ever~” 

“Whatever you’re trying, I’m not falling for the prank you’re setting up.” He hisses, the anger bubbling anew. “There’s stirring things up, Gojo, but this is cruel.” 

Nanami can practically see Satoru shrugging nonchalantly, like he couldn’t possibly be doing something wrong.

“Have fun, bestie~” The phone beeps, indicating that he ended the line, making Nanami let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Take your shirt off.” You order as soon as you cross the threshold with two glasses filled with a generous serving of expensive whiskey, handing one to him before downing yours in one gulp. 

“E-Excuse you-” He sputters, freezing in place. “Did you just ask me to-” 

“Strip? Yes.” You meet his eyes, keeping your gaze purposefully blank. “How else am I going to heal you?” 

Heal him…? He blinks at you in shock. You mastered Reverse Curse Technique? Enough to heal others? Only Shoko was capable of that…

His fingers move hesitantly down the buttons on his shirt, shedding it and tossing it on the sink so he can wash it when you’re done. He notices that you purposefully advert your eyes from his form, frowning at the disappointment he has no right to feel. 

“This is new.” He says as carefully as he can, wanting desperately to know everything you’ve been doing since he left. 

“I had a lot of time during third year.” He notes an air of sadness in your tone. “Why do you think Satoru chose me to help you with Yuji?” 

He tries to answer but hisses in pain as you prod the wound, kneeling in front of him so you’re eye level with it, adjusting your grip 

“I figured he’s bored and wants to spice things up by torturing his “friends”.” He watches with rapt fascination as the flesh at his waist starts to stitch itself together, leaving his skin like the wound had never been present. The thing you couldn’t heal was the damage the curse had caused to his soul by trying to transfigure it.

“Seems accurate. Considering he didn’t tell me who I’d be helping.” You sigh, your brows pulling together in concentration as you direct your energy into the technique. “But he knew you’d need my skills… this and the sealing abilities.”

A silence stretches between the two of you, but you’ve never been one to be alone with your thoughts for long, even given your present company. “I thought you were done with jujutsu.” A pit forms in your stomach. He was back after everything that happened and it was like your pain was for nothing. “How long have you been back?” 

“I was… but I knew I couldn’t help people here more than in an office cubicle.” His skin jumps slightly as you pull away and adjust your grip to heal a smaller spot left the the side of the tear in his side. “About a year…” 

“A year?” And you didn’t come find me? Somewhere small and distant cries inside of you at that. “You were here during the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons?” 

“I was stationed to help in Kyoto… but I didn’t see you there.” He looks away with a sigh, his skin tingling as you move to wipe the residual blood left on his skin. “I looked for you. I figured they would split you and Gojo between the two locations.” 

“I was sent to update the seals on the doors around Tengen to ensure his safety while everyone was away. And set barriers around the school entrances to him. Besides, I’m hardly his counterweight to send elsewhere. I’m only a Semi-Grade 1.” 

“You don’t need to be a Special Grade to make a difference or to save more sorcerers from dying at the hand of curses.” His jaw twitches as he grinds his teeth, feeling bad as soon as he sees your eyes soften like they used to, seeing right through him. 

“You know I would have been there if I wasn’t ordered to attend Tengen…” You stand, dusting the dirt from your knees and leaning against the wall opposite of him. “Especially for the young ones.” 

It wasn’t just Nanami that had experienced a classmate dying on duty. The other two girls in your year died on missions, one in year two the other in year three. You’re sure that if you still agree on anything, it's to make sure students don't need to shoulder the burdens of the jujutsu world if it could be avoided. 

“That wasn’t fair to say to you. Seems I can’t ever say the right things around you…” 

“No it wasn’t.” You wish the fluttering in your heart would stop and leave you to die with the regrets you expected to bear until you were no more. You laugh humorously, all too familiar with the brand of pain he brings into your life. “You excel at walking all over my heart. I used to like you, ya know?” 

He stares, blinking rapidly at you as the new information slots into his mind. The shock reverberates through him. You’ve always been as outspoken and upfront as your brother… would that not have extended to you telling him before he graduated?

Once the shock abates, he’s left with a sense of longing that couldn’t be resolved. “Used to” like him. Past tense. You’d probably moved on by this point. He remembered what Satoru had confided in him when he asked Nanami to look after you. You were 26 with a long list of potential suitors from prominent families to choose from. 

Any hope that he had rekindled in seeing you again slowly starts to die. 

He was too late, and made too many mistakes. Maybe he would leave this world with regrets after all… despite coming back to jujutsu to make things right with you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The unease of seeing Ken again weighs on your heart, especially when you keep catching him looking at you like a wounded puppy days later when you decide if you’re helping out your brother, you can stay in the comfort of your own damn home. 

“Ms. Gojo, ma’am?” Yuji cocks his head as you walk across the living room to bring your stuff up to your bedroom. “Are you staying in Sensei’s safe house with us? I promise we’re not that bad to hang out with. You don’t need to look so down.” 

The comment stops you in your tracks, making you look back at where Nanami and Yuji are settled on your sectional. Nanami’s gaze is carefully averted, trying to not have his mood called out by Yuji too. 

“Yuji, you know this is my house, right?” Leave it to Satoru to try sounding cool by claiming he owns a dedicated safe house. “Satoru is borrowing it for the time being… sorry. More like commandeering it. Asshole.”

“I like this one…” A deep voice purrs as an eye and mouth appears on Yuji’s cheek before he slaps it, wincing at the pain before it moves to the back of his hand as he goads you on. “If you dislike the man, help me destroy him.”

“High praise from the King of Curses.” You deadpan, mentally rolling your eyes. “Stay cooped up in there or I’ll make sure you sleep another thousand years.”

“Such vile words from a woman’s mouth. In my day, you’d be slain so deliciously for such impertinence.” 

“Whelp.” You shrug, looking very much like your brother at that moment. “Good thing I’m allowed to have thoughts and opinions in this age.” 

You disappear up the stairs, ascending them without paying any mind to the final words flying from the demon residing in Yuji’s body. 

“Woman! I didn’t dismiss you!” Sukuna’s yells echo after you to the second level of your home and he snarls when he hears you snort at the dramatics, listening to Yuji chastise him for disrespecting you in your own home until you get far enough down the hall to not hear them anymore. 

“Wait up.” Nanami jogs up the stairs after you, trying to take your bag from your arms. “I didn’t know this was your place either… I sort of took the master bedroom.” 

“... Is Yuji in the spare room?” You hold onto your back tighter, not allowing him to carry any of the weight for you. If you had known that you wouldn’t have a room to sleep in you would have stayed at the hotel you were in. 

“He is. Listen… I don’t mind sharing with you. It’s not like we didn’t in school.” He rubs the back of his neck, knowing that there isn’t another bed in the house. “Of course, that is, if you’re comfortable. I don’t want to assume it's ok, not knowing your current situation.” 

His heart beats in a frantic rhythm in this chest. If this was your house, he didn’t notice that you lived here, let alone another man. There had been a basic set of feminine clothing in the closet and a small stock of high end body care items in the bathroom, but nothing to note a masculine presence had ever occupied the space. A tiny corner of his heart holds onto the hope that he was right all those years ago, that he would one day love you and be able to have you. 

“As long as you didn’t become a pervert in your old age.” He almost doesn’t catch the smirk twitching at the corner of your mouth and the playful gleam in your eye, he rolls his eyes with a chuckle and yanks your bag from your grasp.

“I’m only a year older than you.” He playfully flicks your nose, his eyes lighting up when you scrunch your face and swat his hand away, the echoes of who you were in school still there.

“You didn’t even deny it.” You whine and make your way into your room, seeing his neat pile of items on your spare night stand, the rumpled blankets next to the side of the bed you normally occupy, fills you with a nostalgic kind of warmth. “You better not be. I sleep naked.” 

You double over in laughter, hearing him choke on his shock before it throws him into a coughing fit, his face bright red. He’s still so easily flustered, even looking like… well… like that. 

Your cheeks flush a light shade of pink, remembering what he looks like under those blue button downs. He didn’t look like that in his third year and you wonder how he managed to maintain his physique while working in the corporate environment in Tokyo.

“Don’t worry. I’m fucking with you.” You chuckle, hoping your flush can be excused on your fits of laughter.  Resolving yourself to settle in for the night, you start removing your jewelry, starting with your earring, setting them on the nightstand . “I’ll wear pajamas for you.”

Even if you didn’t want to. 

Hours later, Nanami lays awake, willing his mind to be as blank as the ceiling he’s been staring at. Eventually, he shifts, settling on his side, facing your back. Pajamas hadn’t been the mercy he thought they would be. 

His gaze trails the bare expanse of your back where your silk tank top dips, stray strands of long white hair escape the messy bun you tied before burrowing your face in the pillows. His journey is halted by the faint white scarring that stretches across your left shoulder blade, disappearing around your front. 

The lines of the scars weren’t raised or angry, indicating a reverse curse technique was used to heal them. But the fact that any mark was left at all? It either took her long enough to get to healing them, or they were serious enough that not all the damage could be erased. 

The fear that he felt in the sewer when she appeared pales in comparison to the guilt that slams into him. Had he been sitting at a desk in some high rise in the city, selfishly avoiding his fate, while you were out risking your life?

Never again. He promises himself. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“You shouldn’t go, Yuji.” Your grip tightens on where your phone is still glued to your ear, Ken waiting on the line for you to relay the emergency in front of them. 

A high school was set in the sights of the patchwork curse that almost managed to kill Nanami and Yuji’s friend was stuck within its halls. Yuji’s body shakes with the desire to run into the fray. 

“I’m sorry, Ms. Gojo…” He sprints past you, slamming open the door before he disappears, running as fast as he can to the school’s campus.

“Yuji!” You shout after him, gritting your teeth in frustration. He shouldn’t have to shoulder more burdens than he already does. 

“Y/N.” Kento murmurs over the phone, pulling you back to attention. “They lowered a barrier. We need to make sure he can’t get away and drop another one around them.”

“You’re asking me to sit on the sidelines.” You hotly argue, storming out to find your car, following Yuji regardless of what your role will be. “You can’t just push me to the side because you’re afraid I’ll get hurt!”

“No. I’d never, hun.” Your old pet name sounds strained on his tongue, a long beat of silence stretches between you before his voice cracks, filling the silence. “I just… We can’t let him get away. I need you when this is over.” 

It only comes at the cost of tying your hands. Imprisoning you beyond a barrier where you’re stuck without being able to back him up or even know if he’s alive. 

“Y-you better come back to me then.” You choke into the phone. 

“Always.” He promises and you both know that promise is a lie. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You pace the sidewalk next to your car, the barrier still in place until you were told to drop it. A trail of cold sweat drips down your spine with each minute that passes without any update on what’s happening within the barriers. 

The ringing of your phone makes you jump out of your skin and you answer it without a glance at the caller ID. 

“You can drop the barrier.” Your brother’s voice sings through the phone and it makes your stomach drop that Kento wasn’t the one to reach out to you. “The slimy bastard escaped through the sewers below the barriers.” 

“But w-what about-” You stammer, your insides twisting and catastrophizing the worst case scenario. 

“He’s fine, Y/N.” His voice is softer than he’s ever addressed you and you stammer out an excuse, that he wasn’t what you were going to ask about. “You don’t cry in the bathroom of someone’s going away party and then run out if you don’t care about them.” 

“I told you to never bring that up again.” You croak, embarrassment flushing your cheeks. “I was just upset that he was leaving. It’s not that deep.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He dismisses you easily. “Thank me for forcing you on a mission together when you idiots admit your feelings for each other. Especially if Yuji’s not around to save him from the patchwork’s domain expansion next time.”

“You didn’t want to lead off with that!?” You scream into the microphone, pulling the gaze of a couple of people walking across the street. As the barrier you set dissolves, you launch yourself into the driver’s seat. “Where are they? I’ll get them.” “Ichiji is dropping Yuji off to me. They left already.” He hums. “He’ll go back for Nanami after. He’s catching Ino up so he can search for the curse in the sewers.” 

“So what the hell am I supposed to do?” You growl at him, annoyed that you continue to be ignored when you could be in those underground passages, tracking and sealing him away with your talisman technique. The tires on your car squeal as you peel out of your parking space, turning the wheel to head home. 

“Rest.” Satoru says simply. “We have at least three unregistered special grade curses on the run and no clue what’s organizing them. Whatever is coming, we're going to need you with Shoko.” 

“Nursemaid. Got it.”  You can hear how he rolls his eyes before he simply hangs up on you. 

The halls of your home echo when you unlock the door, the stagnant air clinging to your skin and mocking you with what it would feel like if you didn’t share this space with Kento. 

You let your body carry you to the kitchen, your bare feet padding down the hall until you find your liquor cabinet, downing a double straight with a grimace. The glass clatters as you set it on the counter and slide it away from you. 

Your shoulders droop as you lean against the counter, letting your head hang so you can take a steadying breath. You remain that way until you hear footsteps approaching you from the front door. 

Your tired gaze meets Kento’s and a silence stretches between you as you simply take a moment to look at one another, to realize that the other is still there and that hasn’t been ripped away from you. 

“A-are you ok?” Your eyes widen as Nanami walks towards you with purpose, your feet slipping backwards until your lower back meets the granite surface of the counter. “What are you do-” 

The question dies on your lips as the distance is closed with his hips against yours, pinning you in place as both of his hands cup your cheeks. He uses the position to hold your face in place as he slams his lips to yours desperately. 

A shocked whine emanates from your throat, but you're quickly melting against him, moaning openly as you seek his lips in return, fisting his shirt so he doesn’t try to pull away. 

HIs hands slide in a path down your body, his palms finding purchase on your hips, gripping the skin there to try to get closer. You groan, wanting to feel him grind against your center instead. 

You twine your arms around him, refusing to break where the kiss has grown heated, your tongue tangling together, drunk of the taste of one another. You use the leverage to hop up to sit on the counter and you gasp into his mouth when he doesn’t miss a beat, easily gripping the back of your clothed thighs to spread them around his waist, urging them to lock at the ankles behind him, your ass perched on the edge of the flat surface. 

You imagine what his hands look like gripping your ass, kneading the soft skin there as he uses his raw strength to move your hips against the growing erection in his pants. 

“K-Ken please.” You plead breathlessly as the sloppy, wet kisses transition across your cheek, to along your jaw and down your neck. “Fuck- please-” 

“Please.” He rumbles your own command back at you before reaching to fist a hand in your hair, forcing your head back and to the side with a sharp gasp. “Use your words or I’ll have to start guessing how you’d want me to take you.” 

“Please. I n-need-” A small sob bubbles out as he immediately bites down on the juncture of your neck. “K-Ken, I need more.” 

“Shit you’re so eager…” A low growl rumbles from him as he loops his fingers in your pants, starting to pull them down your legs with your panties. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you need me.” 

“I need you.” You lean forward as soon as your pants are off to kiss him again, your hands easily locating the belt cinching his slacks up. You pull it open and pop the button before pulling the zipper just enough to slide your hand in. 

His hips buck into your hand as you wrap your fingers around his length, pumping until he’s mad with the need to be inside of you, scrambling to drop his pants to the floor so he can tug you closer to shoves his way inside of you. 

“Hun-” His fingertips dig bruises into the skin of your ass, dimpling this skin with his hold as he leans to lap at the skin at your neck, his hips still grinding into your hold around him.  “We should s-slow down. Let me t-take care of you first.” 

It took everything in him to try to pump the brakes. After 10 years of knowing you, he didn’t want to wait any longer. 

“L-Later.” You pant. “We’ll have time for that later. Just please f-fuck me.” 

“I don’t have a-” You pull him by his cock, trailing his head through your folds, shuddering as you tease your clit with it before positioning the tip at your entrance. 

“I don’t care, Ken.” You feel as if you’ll explode if you wait a moment longer. You don’t want a barrier between the two of you, the consequences of that be damned. 

He pulls you forward as he thrusts into you suddenly, making you fall back onto your elbows with a long moan, your cunt taking the brunt of the force of his cock bullying its way into your vice grip. 

“M-move-” Your body shakes, squirming on his length for any measure of friction you could find to help the burning heat spreading from your center.

“I can’t yet, baby.” He bows over, resting his forehead on your shoulder, giving the skin there a soft kiss. “Or I’ll fucking cum in you too soon.” 

Instead he takes a deep breath, reaching between you to rub your clit in steady circles, building you up to be able to cum with him. 

“Baby.” He coos in your ear, slowly starting to pull out of you before slamming home against your cervix, increasing his pace while he acclimates to your tight grip. “Your precious little cunt clamped down on me when I mentioned coming in you.” 

It does again, pulling him deeper as he groans, nearly losing himself in the process. 

“There it is.” He growls, pushing you back to lay on the counter by your neck, pinning you there with his hand around your throat. “You like the thought of me breeding you, princess? None of those jujutsu suitors good enough for this pussy?” 

“T-There aren’t any-” Your legs spread, falling wider to accommodate his thrusts as they build in intensity, his thumb rubs frantically against you, doubling its speed when he feels you clench around him, groaning at the high pitched whines that accompany it. 

He soaks you in as you cum, the flush of liquid against his hips that make the slapping of his hips against yours that much more obscene, how your eyes have gone so cloudy and trusting that you accept being prone with his hand where he could harm you, and the roundness of your mouth as your brows furrow together as you shake violently with your high. 

“K-Ken-” Your broken voice cracks as his thrust overstimulates you. “G-God I need your cum inside of me. Pl-please daddy-” 

The pet name has his eyes rolling back, his cock twitching inside of you before it explodes against your womb in spurts of cum that continue until you’re leaking it onto  the floor below you. 

“Shit.” He curses, a small panic in his eyes as he comes down from his high. “I.. I’m sorry. I wanted to be slow the first time… So you know how much I loved you.” 

His confession thunders through your chest, sending a truly genuine smile to grace your lips. 

“You love me?” You inquire as the room still spins in circles, making sure he said what you thought. 

“I do.” He smirks, leaning in for a slow, loving kiss. “From the day I met you until we’re parted.”

tag list: @sugarbooger513 @sugarmapoops @roughwithfluff @severelytalentless @yelzoldyck @silversslut @aazaard @dreamyyholland @wobblewobble822 @vantastic210 @rafzaha @tirzamisu @chososhoney @littlemochi @bebechinas99 @firdaoz @saoney @meromelo @pelicanpizza @sukunassoulmate @damncakie @katgalle @honeyyjems [[ if your blog name is crossed out i couldn't tag you]]

[pikatrainer99]

Branch mental health character analysis part 2: Trolls World Tour (SPOILERS FOR A FOUR YEAR OLD MOVIE BUT JUST IN CASE 😅)

(Part 1 is right here in case you missed it or need a refresher)

Hey everyone! I'm back with the second part of my Branch character analysis! This time, we're gonna go over his character in the second film, Trolls World Tour, so without further ado, let's get started!

This time around, Branch still lives in his bunker, but he's got more color to him now and he is able to enjoy singing and dancing with Poppy and the others, which is good character development for him. He also wants to confess his love for Poppy, but really struggles to do so. After hearing about the history of the different Troll tribes from King Peppy, as well as Queen Barb of the Hard Rock Trolls' world tour, Poppy decides to set out to unite the other Trolls and prove that differences don't matter. Branch tries to talk some sense into her with his logical thinking as well as his trauma-induced anxiety and trust issues, but to no avail, and he ends up joining Poppy on her quest…but not without sneaking some weapons on board the balloon they're traveling in…because his need to be over-prepared is still clearly there, especially when facing something new. He is clearly anxious, he doesn't know anything about the other Trolls and he feels the need to be hyper-vigilant just like in the first film, never letting his guard down. Poppy kicks the weapons overboard, and Branch is clearly upset by this, saying that he "whittled those for hours", referring to the sharp stick spears among the weapons he had brought.

When they reach Symphonyville, where the Classical Trolls lived, Branch, while feeling empathy for them, is still on guard upon hearing Pennywhistle the flute's voice in the destroyed town. Upon being asked if they're nice or mean, Poppy says they're nice, and Branch says, "Yeah, but not too nice…so don't even try it!" This, to me, is Branch's anxiety and fear of the unknown mixing in with his already established issues, particularly his paranoia. After their talk with Pennywhistle, Poppy finally realizes that Barb and the Hard Rock Trolls want to destroy all music except for Rock, and Branch panics and says that they need to make sure their string is safe, to which Poppy says it is as she pulls it out of her hair, causing Branch to freak out more at the fact that she BROUGHT IT WITH HER. He then says they need to go back home to Pop Village and get everyone in his bunker where they'll be safe (again, his bunker is HIS safe space, but his character development has led to him actually wanting to protect the rest of the Pop Trolls by keeping them safe in there…good job Branch!), but Poppy says that they need to keep going, completely invalidating Branch's concerns and worries (Poppy WHY…?!) and they head off towards the Country Music Trolls' territory.

When they reach Lonesome Flats, where the Country Trolls live, the Country Trolls' leader, Delta Dawn, is singing a sad song called "Born to Die" which Poppy dislikes because of how sad it is. Branch, however, seems a bit conflicted on how he feels about it, saying that he agrees that it's really sad, but then pointing out that life is sad sometimes…so he kinda likes it. This makes sense as Branch has been through so much in his life up to this point that he is depressed and traumatized. I didn't used to like sad songs either until I started really struggling with my own depression and trauma as a teenager (I've had these issues since I was a very young child but it really took over my life as a teen), and then I started finding a weird sense of comfort in them...which I was also confused about at the time, just like Branch seems to be here. After getting thrown in jail by Delta Dawn after performing an impromptu pop medley planned by Poppy to "cheer the Country Trolls up", Branch is once again, prepared for anything as he already has a plan and a shovel in his hair which he starts to dig them out of the jail so they can escape, but then they're rescued by Hickory, who Branch immediately is suspicious of and doesn't trust. His guard is up for a good portion of the time they spend traveling with Hickory, and when he says something about it to Poppy, she twists his words around saying that it's not Hickory Branch doesn't trust, but her. Branch immediately denies that (and rightfully so, he didn't say anything like that at all), and tries to get Poppy to understand that that wasn't what he meant, but she doesn't listen to him.

It's not until after the incident in Vibe City where the Funk Trolls live, that Poppy and Branch have a big fight. Poppy is so one-track-minded, so focused on being a good queen that she can't bring herself to focus on anything else, and Branch is desperately trying to get her to listen to reason. Poppy wants to continue their journey to help the other Trolls but Branch wants to go back home and protect their friends and family. Poppy accuses Branch of giving up and Branch is frustrated that all of this is all because Poppy feels the need to prove herself as a good queen, he tells her that good queens actually LISTEN, which she is not doing. They talk about how different they are and how they're too different to get along, causing Branch to leave, incredibly upset by it as he loves Poppy and cares about her more than anyone else, as his depression hits again (seriously, look at his face, he looks so sad the entire time while he sings "Perfect For Me"…he actually looks like he's close to tears at times in that scene too). When he gets captured by the K-Pop gang (who btw, actually call him "crybaby" before saying anything else to him) and the Reggaeton Trolls, he declares that all music should be saved, opening up to and accepting the two groups of Trolls in front of him even though they're bounty hunters trying to capture him and Poppy and bring them to Barb. They do end up working together as at the end, as Barb prepares to play the ultimate power chord, they show up in the balloon to help stop all music from being destroyed. This is a BIG step for Branch, as his trust issues were on alert 24/7 in only just a few scenes prior!

Branch jumps in front of Poppy, taking the hit from the ultimate power chord for her, getting turned into a rock zombie in the process. This shows how much Branch really loves her, as he didn't even HESITATE to sacrifice himself (he gets turned into a zombie controlled by Barb…I'm counting that as a self-sacrifice) to protect her, which is really sweet but also kinda sad…that kind of self-sacrificial behavior usually means (from what I've seen anyway) that the character puts others' lives way above their own, usually it's a self-worth issue, they don't care what happens to them, as long as their friends and loved ones are okay. We know that Branch has been through A LOT, so this kind of mentality actually makes sense…it's heartbreaking but it makes sense that he'd struggle with self-worth issues and low self-esteem (spoiler alert: we'll definitely get more into that when we get to the third movie). The guitar is soon smashed by Poppy, destroying the strings, but they all realize that music really comes from them, and they sing "Just Sing" (my personal favorite song in the film). Branch finally confesses his love for Poppy, she reciprocates, they high-five, and that's pretty much it for Trolls World Tour.

I hope you all enjoyed the second part of my Branch character analysis! I didn't put images or GIFs in this one because finding them takes a lot out of me, and since I'm struggling mentally right now, I didn't wanna put anymore stress on myself. Again, if you think I missed anything, please feel free to let me know what I missed in the comments below! This isn't the end of Branch's journey though! There's still one more movie to cover, so I'll see you guys hopefully soon for part 3: Trolls Band Together! Catch ya later! 👋

[writersblog20]

The dream

Chris Evans x reader

Summary: When you get the chance to make your dream come true, you take it. But you didn’t think it would scare you this much and how stressed it would make you. But Chris has a couple of ideas up his sleeve

Warnings: Overstressed, anxiety, panic, mention of a panic attack, nightmares, SoftChris, Passionate and loving sex, eating you out, giving you the lead in sex, him asking you what you need and want, fingering, eating you out, Soft smut, neediness for each other, jerking off, p in v, no condom, creampie, cockwarming

Words:5K

A/N: So this is very personal as in problematic wise. I’m waiting for a go from the designer so I can continue and I never thought that it gave me this much anxiety, panic and nightmares. I’ve been waiting for two weeks and the deadline is coming closer, making me think irrational. Besides, I still need to make 200 slides….. yeah I’m already overstressed and I just need Chris to help me through this but this is the closest I can get.

The dream

Your dream was finally coming true and you did it all on your own. You were going to make the graphics for a big festival and would also be the photographer. Or at least, you could count on it but it still had to be completely arranged and it gave you anxiety. You rather would have it in black and white. You had a pitch where you would show your work that you made for the festival and they loved it. But there was only one graphic designer in the team and he had to give you a go in order for you to continue or not so the days following are absolute hell.

This was your dream and it got right into your lap so you wouldn’t let it go for the life of you. Unfortunately the anxiety rose with each passing day and Chris, your boyfriend, noticed. He took you along to his premiers that were going on right now with like Lightyear, The Gray man etc etc. Chris noticed that with each passing day you grew more nervous and anxious.

Today was a very hot day and you finally threw a mail out for the people in the team to get you an answer from the designer but they were all very busy, which you did understand but it just didn’t help with the growing anxiety that you couldn’t control anymore.

You were behind your computer and also send a text message out so you would be sure they would see the mail. Your leg was bouncing while you stared at your empty inbox. The worst part was that all of this triggered your depression as well. Chris was in the kitchen, making coffee when he heard nothing except the tapping of your heel on the ground. He looked at you and sight. He knew how much this meant to you and you would do everything for this. Like this really was a start of your dream and you were so incredibly close that it scared the absolute life out of you.

You didn’t tell Chris how bad it really was but he could guess. He just never thought it would be this bad since you were an expert in hiding. Chris walked over to you and placed his hands on either side of the armchair, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Hey sweetheart. How you’re holding up?” He asked you as he turned your chair around and got on his knees so he would be on eye sight. His head resting on his arms which were resting on your knees.

You shrugged and let out a shaky breath. He placed a piece of hair behind your ear and softly brushed your cheek with his knuckles. “The same only it’s getting worse by the day.” He nodded, listening to you. “It’s a warm day…. Why don’t we go to the beach today? It’s no use of staying behind this laptop honey.” You let out a sigh and refreshed your inbox to be met by absolutely nothing. “What if he doesn’t like my work Chris? What if he doesn’t want me to finish it or make me start all over again? The deadline is only 2 months away and I have to make at least 200 slides.” Chris shushed you, noticing your demeanor changed and your breathing becoming rapidly.

He held your cheeks softly with his palms. “Slow down baby girl. I’ve seen your work and it’s amazing. They wouldn’t make you all of this if they didn’t want you.” he tried to remind you. “But they only got me because one of the team member knows me personally.” You rubbed your temples in distress. Chris took your hand away, stopping you. “Sweetheart, listen to me. They saw your work and if you weren’t good enough they wouldn’t have made you continue. It’s all in your head and it’s completely understandable that you’re stressed out but you need this energy for later.”

“Let me call Scott and ask him if he wants to join us. You need some distractions. Trust me sweetheart, this’ll do you good. Maybe some friends can join us too?” he proposed and you knew he was right but you were closer to tears than smiling at the moment, not feeling very social. “It’s been three weeks Chris….” You reminded him. “I’ve been waiting for three weeks and I can’t contain my anxiety anymore.” Your eyes filled up with tears from the absolute sheer panic you were in. You were keeping it all in and it felt like you were about to burst in a form of a panic attack.

“Let me take care of you sweetheart. You’ve always taken care of me when I have anxiety. Now it’s my turn.” He said softly as he caressed your legs. You sighed and looked back at your laptop. “I don’t feel very social today. Let’s just ask Scott and his boyfriend but no friends. I can’t really deal with that right now.” You told him honestly. “That’s okay sweetheart. Why don’t you make some fruit ready and I’ll call Scott?” he was so gentle with you right now since you couldn’t do that for yourself. You’ve been beating yourself up over this for three weeks straight now.

You nodded and Chris helped you up, pulling you into a hug as he held you tightly. “It’s going to be fine sweetheart, I promise you.” You hid your face in the crook of his neck, taking in a deep breath while Chris’s cologne calmed you down slightly. He placed his hand on the back of your head, trying to make you feel as safe and protected as possible.

He waited until you got out of the hug, giving you as much time as you needed while placing kisses on the side of your head until you got out of the hug. “And if this doesn’t work, I’ve got more ideas to how I can destress you….” he told you with a smirk and winked at you. You rolled your eyes and giggled. “You see! It does work, you’re smiling again.” You shook your head and made your way to the kitchen to cut up the watermelon.

Chris called Scotty while you got all kinds of fruit. You loved Scott to bits. His positivity was intoxicating and that’s exactly what you were needing right now. All of this had a pretty big effect on your life and love life. You and Chris haven’t done anything in the last three weeks and even though Chris gave you all the time you needed, you knew he was a little touched starved just like you. All of a sudden you felt a pair of arms around your waist and Chris let his head rest on your shoulder as his body was pressed up against yours.

“Scott and Steve will be here in an hour.” Chris told you, kissing your cheek. You nodded and fed him a strawberry you were cutting up. “I’ll get a cooler for the drinks and stuff.” He told you and kissed your neck. He made you turn around by your waist. He had a mischievous smile and pulled you in for a kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. He picked you up and placed you on the counter without breaking the kiss. You pulled away and went with your hands through his fluffy hair while he stood in between your legs. “I love you.” you told him, caressing his cheek this time, his stubbles tickling the palm of your hand. “And I love you sweetheart.” His smile big and bright, which you mirrored.

“Now get your pretty ass upstairs and get changed.” He told you, helping you off the counter, placing a quick kiss on your lips and smacked your ass softly and playfully. You turned around with a smile while he watched you walk away. You got everything you needed just like Chris. Scott was one minute away and you quickly looked into your inbox again. “No…..” Chris said and wrapped his arms around your waist, trying to pull you away from your laptop. “Chrihiss….. just let me take a look” You whined and almost fought Chris to see your inbox. He let out a loud sigh and let go of you. Obviously there was nothing there and when you turned around towards Chris he had his hand on his side with his eyebrow up. “Sorry….” You told him and he walked towards you. “Today is for relaxation sweetheart. Now let’s go.” He told you and kissed you before carrying the cooler and bag.

Just in time, Scott honked the car. “There they are!!!” Scott yelled with a smile, making you smile as well. You jumped in the back and hugged Scott and Steve. “How are you? Heard you were pretty stressed out so we’re going to make you relaxed by the end of the day.” You smiled “Thanks Scotty.” Chris jumped in besides you and pulled your legs over his, his warm, big hand on your knee.

It didn’t took long before you arrived at the beach while Scott talked with you about the new true crime docu he had seen. It took a minute to get your thoughts off the festival but in the end it did work, getting you in a way better mood. You searched a quiet spot to lay and when you found it, you all unpacked. Chris put some sunscreen on your back and you on his. Just by seeing him without a shirt on, made the butterflies go loose in the pit of your stomach. It’s been a while when you saw him without a shirt and he was ripped in a way you didn’t remember he was while the tattoos showed off.

Scott brought a ball with him for in the water while you turned up the music a little. Scott and Steve already jumped in the water, jumping on each other’s back. Chris turned to you and checked you out with a smirk, making you feel shy again. “What?” you asked with a shy smile playing upon your lips. He shrugged a little “You just look good, that’s all.” he told you and kissed your shoulder, meeting your eyes above his sunglasses. You felt your cheeks getting heated, chuckled and looked away. “What? I can’t compliment my favorite girl right now?” he knew damn well what he was doing to you.

He got your arm and gently rubbed it. He knew exactly how to make you feel heated, shy and most importantly, made you feel like the only woman on earth. “hmh… Smooth Christopher… smooth.” You told him and stood up, reaching  out your hand for him to take. He chuckled at your response and took your hand in his and got up. He stood very close to you and was taller than you were, making you feel a bit small and intimidated. Damn this man knew exactly what to do and what he did now, made you feel submissive. Chris looked down at you with a smirk. You rolled your eyes slightly, not wanting to give in now just on principles and pushed him playfully away.

“What?” Chris chuckled and if you could roll your eyes even further, you would, making Chris chuckle even more. “Let’s just go, you tease.” Your remark made him laugh wholeheartedly and you knew that this was the vibe he was going with today. He took your hand and placed a delicate kiss on it, smiling at you. You turned towards him, standing close to him as well. This time it took him by surprise at the close proximity you were standing and got his sunglasses of his face. “Don’t wanna loose them now do we?” you chuckled at your win this time and placed it on the towel. Now it was your turn to wrap him around your finger.

You took his hand in yours and walked into the water, paddling your feet in the refreshing water. Chris looked at you with a loving smile and placed his arm around you, pulling you against the side of his body and kissed the top of your head. He could see you were thinking about it again and whispered in your ear “It’s all going to be okay sweetheart. Trust yourself.” He took the lead, still holding your hand in his when he turned around looking at you if you were ready to go further into the water.

You walked slowly his way. The water wasn’t cold, more refreshing than anything else  but you still needed to get used to it. Every time you took a step forward, Chris took a step backward to help you. It wasn’t like you really needed help, but you loved the fact that he was doing it either way, always so caring and it made your heart flutter. You looked at Chris, the sun kissing his skin while his fluffy hair shined in the sun and it was like falling in love with him all over again.

You smiled and got his hand, pulling him closer. It surprised Chris for a minute until you wrapped your arms around his torso, your head resting against his chest. It took him a moment but wrapped his arms around you as well, pulling you closer and you could hear the rumble of his chuckles. He went with his hand over your hair. “What’s this for sweetheart?” he asked you softly and caringly. “I just love you so much.” His heart started to melt when you said that and how you wrapped yourself around him. The need to protect you from anything and everything got even bigger by the second. He would do anything for you without thinking twice about it.

“You have no idea how much I love you too baby girl” he told you, kissing your head. His hands cupped your cheek as he gave you a chaste kiss. Without warning, you both got splashed by Scott and Steven, making you both gasp at the sudden coldness.

It turned out in a water fight until you were all soaked. You hanged around Chris like a koala in the water until you got out. Chris was right, this did do you a lot of good but once you returned home, you were confronted again.

You wanted to put your computer on when Chris placed his hand above yours, making you look at him. He shook his head lovingly, making you think twice about it. You looked back at your computer and got your hand away, listening to Chris.

“Let’s take a shower together hmh?” he asked you and you nodded. The entire time on the beach you were very clingy which you weren’t a lot so Chris knew he had to be very soft and gentle with you. Chris didn’t see this side of you a lot but when you did show it, he loved every given moment of it and it felt like his heart would burst with the love he had for you. Besides, he knew that the moment you got clingy, you gave your consent for him to take completely care of you.

He helped you get upstairs and into the bathroom. You were glad that you changed the sheets of the bed this morning so you could get into a clean bed later. You and Chris got undressed and Chris gave you a hand, helping you get into the shower with him. He got your favorite bath foam and softly rubbed it onto your body. He pulled you into a hug, when he saw that the stress exhausted you and it showed now since you were relaxed. “It’s okay baby. you’re going to be completely fine. I’m here with every step and you’re doing such a good job. I couldn’t be more proud of you for following your dreams even though I know how scary it can be.” You tightened your arms more around him while he comforted you.

When you got out and Chris obviously helped you out, he dried you off with a soft towel, put your underwear on and placed you on the counter. “Which lotion you want baby?” he asked you looking around. “My favorite.” You told him tiredly and he immediately got your favorite lotion, rubbing it gently in before putting your favorite shirt of him on and helped you off the bathroom counter.

He quickly put some short sweats on himself and a shirt. You both walked downstairs and he got on the couch, pulling you onto his lap sideways and gave you the tv remote. You watched a tv series and cuddled closer to Chris. He played with your hair, calming you and relaxing you even more. You let your head rest on his chest, underneath his chin. You couldn’t fight your heavy eyelids anymore and closed them, feeling utterly and completely safe in Chris’s arms.

You were almost drifting off until you felt Chris shift underneath you. You flutter you eyes open and looked at Chris who smiled lovingly at you. “Let’s get you upstairs sweetheart.” He told you and you noticed that the tv was already off. You nodded and got out of his lap. Chris still held onto you in case you might fall since you were very drowsy. You brushed your teeth freshened up a little before falling into the clean sheets.

It was cool in the room, giving you both some release from the almost unbearable heat. Chris got in next to you and scooped you closer, placing an arm underneath your head so you could rest your head on his chest. Your legs over him and it didn’t took you long before falling asleep.

You had a very vivid nightmare about the festival. It seemed so incredibly real that you actually thought that it happened. You slowly got up, rubbing your face and looked at Chris who was in a very peaceful and deep sleep. You had dreamt that the designer didn’t want you and hated you for no reason at all, saying that you were unprofessional and childish. It felt so real that you couldn’t snap out of it and had to check if it really happened or not.

You got out of bed trying to be as quiet as possible and made your way downstairs, not even bothering with the lights. The tears slipped down your cheek as you felt a fearful weight on your heart, hoping that it was in fact a nightmare. The panic rose when you saw your computer which you quickly turned on and sat down in the chair. You opened your mail and searched through it with a heavy heart, not even able to stop crying at this point. You were so caught up that you didn’t even hear Chris walking downstairs.

He found you behind your computer and his heart sank. You rested your head on your arms as you tried to hold your sobs in. He sighted softly out of sympathy and walked towards you. He didn’t want to unsettle you so he softly rubbed your arms, making you look up. He saw that your eyes were bloodshot red and sympathy was written all over his face.

He kneeled down in front of you and you broke down completely. He shushed you. “It’s going to be alright sweetheart. It was a nightmare wasn’t it?” he asked you and you nodded, unable to contain the sobs coming from you as you shook in his arms. You were both on the ground now and Chris held you tightly when you crawled into his lap, your legs wrapped around him. “He said that I was too childish, unprofessional and hated me for no reason. It felt so real Chris. I thought it really happened. I had to check.” You told him between sobs, feeling utterly exhausted from this whole experience.

“I know honey, it’s okay. It’s not real and I’m 100% sure he wouldn’t say that. You are too good in what you do and trust me when I say that you are very professional. I’ve seen it myself. It’s your fears projecting right now. It’s not going to happen in real life.” He told you softly, trying to help you rationalize. “I know… I’m just exhausted from the waiting and containing the panic and anxiety. With every passing day, it’s getting harder. I don’t know how long I’m going to be able to do this.”

Chris cupped your cheeks softly. “You’re the most strongest woman I’ve ever seen. You’re going to get through this and you’re going to rock it.” he kissed you softly and wiped away your tears. “I’ll be here with you remember? And it was all just a nightmare.” He reminded you and you took a deep shaky breath. He smiled softly at you and kissed your nose. “You want to stay downstairs and watch something or do you want to get upstairs again? I might be able to take some stress away.” he told you the last part teasingly again, making you chuckle through your tears. He smiled the moment he saw you smile again.

You were actually considering it though, at this point wanting to try anything to take the stress away. “Let’s go upstairs.” But you didn’t responded to the last sentence. He helped you up and held your hand while walking upstairs. You looked at your side of the bed and shivered from the thought of the nightmare. Chris looked at you concerned. “It’s going to be okay, I’m here.” He whispered in your ear, raising goosebumps over your body.

You sat down on the bed and rubbed your face. Chris took your hands away and kissed them before slowly and gently kissing your cheeks, your nose, forehead and lastly your lips. He saw the consideration in your eyes. “Just relax baby girl, let me make you feel good.” He told you and kissed your neck gently. You felt the heat spread down, noticing how needy and starved you actually were.

He took his shirt off of you and his own, his hands going over your body before making you lay down back on the bed. “Just relax.” He told you softly once again. His lips trailing down from your neck to your chest towards your breast. Your felt your breath hitch a little and got even wetter by his soft and gentle touch.

His mouth and tongue played with your nipple. He trailed down your stomach, his fingertips caressing your thighs, getting you even more in the mood. He left wet kisses behind, his blue eyes piercing yours with love in them. Not like he would do normally, the dominant side staying put right now and showed you all the love he could. He kissed your thighs lovingly while his big hands gently rubbed them. You felt the heat pulsating and couldn’t wait for his mouth to get attached.

He grinded on the side of the bed with his cock for some release himself. His finger went over your wet slit and carefully put a finger in your pussy, curling it inside, making you moan and more wetter. His mouth got attached to your clit and he hummed from pleasure himself. He pumped his finger in and out of you while his mouth was doing some magic itself. You felt yourself grow closer. It was almost embarrassing how fast you could cum right now but didn’t care that much.

His tongue circled your clit while his finger thrusted in you. You saw his bicep flexing because of it and the man was a whole painting on it’s own right now. You buckled your hips slightly and Chris let you right now. You squeezed around his fingers. “You’re close aren’t you baby?” his voice still loving instead of dark which you expected, but to be fair, you needed someone who was soft right now and Chris got that hint a week ago. Just waited for you to let him in your bubble and accept his gentleness.

“Yeah I am.” You murmured out. The sounds your pussy made while Chris was eating you out, made you even hornier. “You cum when you’re ready pretty girl.” Your fingers clenched into the sheets as you arched your back. One hand found his way into his hair, tucking it a bit, making him moan in the process. “I’m gonna cum.” You told him and he fastened his pace, making you shiver and shake in no time.

He got his fingers out of you while you tried to regain your breathing again. Chris looked at you and placed wet kissed over your stomach, towards your chest, neck and after your lips, kissing you passionately. You could taste yourself on his tongue and you arched your back again so your body could meet his, your leg going over his hard cock in his boxers. You pulled him down in the kiss, his body laying on top of you now. “What do you want baby?” he asked you genuinely, letting you take the lead for the first time and it made you a bit nervous. “Can you make me cum again?” Chris smiled lovingly at you and nodded, placing soft kisses on your lips. “Want me to do it like I just did?” he asked you, helping you out as he noticed your nervousness.

You nodded shyly and a bit embarrassed. He smiled and gave you a last kiss before laying on his back. “climb on baby girl.” He told you and you were quick on your feet, crawling over him. He helped you to get up, you were always nervous that you would hurt him so he had to help you in this one. He held onto your thighs and pulled you down on his face. You almost collapsed at the spot while he hummed again and looked at you to see how you were doing.

He ate you out like a starved man. Not going to lie, he probably was and you started to shake above him. His finger entering you, curling it inside, hitting the perfect spot as you cried out. “Cum for me sweetheart.” He told you between eating you out. You got a little off his face as you shook violently above him but he pulled you down again, not done with you yet and kept eating you throughout your orgasm.

Soft licks were giving as he lapped you up. He helped you get off and laid on his side towards you, placing a piece of hair away from your sticky forehead. He kept going over your hair with his hand, waiting for you to catch your breath. You turned your head to look at him. He smiled lovingly at you and even though you loved dominant Chris, you couldn’t help but love this side of him just as much. “How your feeling?” he asked you and you smiled a bit, getting closer to him to kiss him.

He got you into a passionate kiss and he slowly got on top of you. One hand entangled in his hair, just like he did with you and the other massaged his cock through his boxers. He gasped out a little as you freed his cock and gently jerked him off. He sighed in the kiss and you noticed he was just as needy for you as you were for him. You placed his cock by your entrance, slowly going over your slit and covered his cock with your cum before slowly pushing the tip in, both gasping at the familiar feeling of each other.

“I’ve missed you so much.” He told you, almost whiningly. “I’ve missed you too.” You moaned out as he pushed his hips more forward, going deeper in you. “Stay in me tonight. I need you close.” You told him, feeling even more needy for him and just his physical touch. “I know baby, I know, I need you too.” He kissed you below your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You put your legs around him and pushed him in deeper. Chris started moving slowly while you both moaned out. You haven’t heard Chris this vocal before. I mean, he is very vocal in bed but this just took the price. He slowly started thrusting into you, hitting your g-spot every time he got into you. You attached your lips to his neck before needlingly pulling him into a deep kiss. His arms were tightly wrapped around you, holding you just as close. “I’m not going to last long tonight sweetheart.” He warned you. “That’s okay. I just need you close.” He moaned at your response while he felt needed and important, which he obviously was.

“I’m gonna cum again.” You told him almost completely hidden underneath him. “that’s okay, cum for me princess, cum for me.” he motivated you. You started to clench around his cock and he moaned out loudly in response. “Cum with me Chris, cum inside of me.” His whole body tensed up when you asked him to cum together and he almost lost all of his strength in his body. He hid his face in the crook of his neck while your hands caressed his back, pulling him more down.

You came hard and clenched so hard on his cock that you started to milk him out entirely. Chris was moaning in your ear and you could feel his heart thundering against yours. You both tried to catch your breath and you felt his cum seeping out of you. You felt so complete right now and relaxed. You chuckled “You were right, this does help with the stress.” He chuckled as well, meeting your gaze and cupped your cheek. “I like this side of you.” you confessed softly. He smiled lovingly at you. “I like this side too.” He told you, kissing you softly, still a bit out of breath.

“You still want me to stay inside of you tonight sweetheart?” he asked you, softly rubbing your cheek with his thumb, now laying more to the side. You nodded “Yeah I need you close.” He smiled and kissed the top of your nose. He laid more to the side, his ;leg over you this time, one arm underneath his head and the other resting on your side, both just staring at each other.

It was going to be a long, exhausting and stressful road but maybe you finally found your way of destressing.

 Taglist:  @patzammit @rogersdrysdalebarber @justile @babyevansblog @hazelqueenland @littlebluecupcake

[chaoxfix]

🕯️🪄🌻 for the meme!

ty for the ask!! <3

🕯️how do you think engaging with each other through tumblr, twitter, comments, kudos, creates healthy fandom experiences? How do you deal with that if you're not a social person/experience social anxiety?

ahh... hmm. i like putting out the energy i want back. if i read something i try to comment, and if i dont like something or am not interested in the concept, i just dont react because it's so much worse to upset someone over something they worked hard on.

i really don't think kudos are a very good expression of appreciation, as it has almost no room for real connection. fics are free, you know? when something is free but gives you joy, you should probably meet it with love, and love in a way that really shows why you like it. thats why i think comments are much better. i get why it can cause anxiety, but there's really no wrong way to comment unless youre 1) being an honest to god jerk, 2) pointing out something you dislike / something that you think the author was "incorrect" about (especially if the commenter is the one whos wrong lmao. either way i really dont think free fanfiction is like. lol. the place to do public criticism. just saying.)

im a rather anxious person irl, so im not really sure exactly what every single other anxious person's obstacles are or how to bridge them. because of that, i won't try to give universal advice since it's something i cant be an expert on if my experience is so different.

but i will say, for myself -- i mitigate my anxiety by practicing gratitude. i weaponize my people-pleasing for good by trying to be someone who makes other people feel genuinely good. and there's nothing better than feeling appreciated and praised for things that have value. and that kind of thing usually comes back around.

🪄what is your post-writing/sharing aftercare? How do you take care of yourself or celebrate yourself when you've finished a fic?

ahh... hmmm...

if it's late at night (after midnight) when i post it, i go to sleep so i wont stay up refreshing the page to see what people say, or worse stay up editing all the typos that "suddenly appear" in ao3 formatting lol. that way even if no one reads it overnight or there are errors, it's okay because at least i can face the day with some sleep.

if it's not late at night when i post it, i try to go for a walk to again avoid constantly refreshing the page for feedback or immediately editing it. bc its not super healthy to spend even more time on it after whats probably been hours and hours, and i dont want my entire day fixated on something i should be done with.

i dont really celebrate much though, probably because i just kind of expect myself to make things of a quality i can stand behind. i didnt really grow up getting praised despite being an overachiever bc it made others around me feel bad when i got a lot . . . so i. have to really try and make something worthy of praise to feel like i deserve it. idk. haha. so anyways overall i try to lean more and more into 'i dont need validation' because id hate to put all my eggs in that basket -- not just because i dont want to be motivated by others' praise, but also because, i dont want to stop writing for the opposite reason, if someday i no longer feel like the quality of work i produced actually deserved the amount of feedback it got.

🌻what makes you want to give up on writing? what makes you keep going?

low motivation for long stretches, and losing interest in the things others like best, make me want to stop writing. both with fandom and original. low motivation usually coincides with depressive stints for me, and it makes me feel awful. like i cant do the one thing i like best, because i just can't motivate myself. when i finally manage it, it's crap for the first thousand words, then it gets better.

for me though, what makes me keep going is getting others to see my vision. getting them to feel what i aim to make them feel; crafting stories that, maybe theyre not perfect, but the emotions they generate are enough. it really is hard without an audience. even though i'm not motivated as much by getting a ton of validation, i do need at least a little lol, even just someone to say "yes. i see you. i understand what you needed me to feel from this, and i felt it." which is why i have original writing friends as well, for original stuff.

buuut also, i also keep going because i like being able to jot down what im thinking/imagining so that i can revisit it later and go back to that feeling, that moment in time where i was absolutely positive of that scene

thank you again for asking!! ^^

[shinpredicts]

Pick a Luxury Fashion Brand Reading - January to March 2022 Reading

This is a general pick a card reading.

How to do this reading:

1. Stay calm. Take a few deep breaths if needed. Be in a quiet, comfortable place. Don't get distracted.

2. Look at the picture below, which has the luxury fashion brands. Pick the one that calls out to you most. Do not automatically pick one just because it's your favorite brand.

3. If you feel that more than 1 brand calls out to you, then feel free to pick another one or two more. I would not recommend picking more than 3.

4. Remember that this is a general reading so take what resonates and leave what doesn't behind.

1. Saint Laurent

January to March 2022 will feel very refreshed, yet very busy for you. New projects, clients, or situations will be coming to you. You may be starting a new job or taking on new responsibilities within your life. You may even be welcoming a new pet or a baby during this time. You will feel kind fo burdened sometimes due to the amount of things that you seem to need to do. There will be also many deadlines coming and many urgent matters that you will have to deal with.

If you are a student, you will feel like you are very pressured to achieve more or you will feel the need to try to boost your grades in this semester. If you are not a student, you will still feel stress elsewhere. This could be at work or at home or within your community.

You will probably feel more burnt out in March as the excitement of new things wear off and you are faced with more deadlines or expectations. If you slack off during the two previous months, you will feel the consequences in March or early April 2022.

2. Fendi

From January to March 2022, you may be welcoming a new relationship or forming new social circles or friends. This is a time where you will find yourself networking a lot or going out with friends more often or if that's not possible then you'll be connecting with people online.

You will feel more sociable during this period. You may also want to change your image up like change your style, cut your hair or dye it, eat cleaner and healthier, work out more and etc. You will want to also do some spring cleaning so out with the old and in with the new.

For some of you, you may even go abroad for travel or for studies. You may have some sort of foreign element within your life like making friends who are foreigners, meeting new people who are foreigners, or even learning a new language.

You may need to be careful this time because your happiness can lead you to gaining weight. You might be enjoying yourself too much that you overindulge in snacks, alcohol, or food. You may also gain a few bad habits during this period too.

3. miu miu

January to March 2022 will feel sort of nostalgic for you. You will want to revisit the past. You will also want to connect with people that you've lost touch with in the past, maybe like an ex partner or an ex best friend. You might even gain more insight about your own past like unearthing a family secret or knowing more about your past life.

January to March 2022 will also be a time for you to make amends with the past. You will be more open to forgiving others and to forgiving yourself during this time. You will also do more self-reflection during this period. You may even pick up some self-help tips, read some books about self-care or counselling or therapy, and start journalling or meditating.

At around mid to end of March 2022 and even till April 2022, you will shift towards looking forward to the future and will feel more optimistic about it.

4. Hermès

January to March 2022 will be a very chaotic period for you. Many things that you want to do will be obstructed. Many things that you thought would happen around this time would not. They may be cancelled or delayed; for example, you might have accepted a new job position that would start in January 2022, but then closer to January 2022, you get news that the employer no longer has the budget to hire you so unfortunately you have lost this position. You may experience online orders or shipments that become lost or somehow don't get delivered to you on time.

This is also a period where you are prone to making mistakes, even ones where you thought you'd never make. You will have to be careful when you fill out forms or hand in anything to anyone. There are chances that you probably have messed up somewhere and will need to re-do the forms or something again or just accept it as is.

This is also not a great time for you to be writing exams or having to do some interview or applying for a visa etc. During these times you will face a lot of obstacles and have things denied.

This is a period for you to lay low and be careful. The past is also likely going to come to you during this time, so if you've wronged someone before then they'll come back for you or if you've made some mistake before then it'll come back to you. Things that you did in the past will also be examined during this time, so people might bring up something that you did in the past and wasn't discussed or crticized but then this time around somehow it's negatively seen. If you are in a public facing role, then you will have really high chances of someone in the past sharing something about you online, which will spread like wild fire.

You will also have to be careful of your words. You will easily get into arguments with others or be offended by others. People will also like to pick at your words during this time and use them against you. If you post things online or talk to others online, people may even screenshot and use those screenshots against you. Rumors can also start about you, especially if you have some sort of following online.

You may even get into a lawsuit from January to March 2021 or something related to the law will affect you. You might get fined for some noise infringement or for illegal parking. You might somehow be sued by your former employer or you might be served with court papers by your spouse.

5. Chanel

January 2022 to March 2022 will be a relaxing time for you. This will feel like a slow period for you. You can finally take a breather from all the chaos or problems you've faced from the previous year or previous few months.

This is a time where you will be able to plan for the future. You will also be able to take the time to spend with friends, family, your crush or partner. You will finally get the quality time you've been looking for.

You will also probably learn to enjoy your life more. You might pick up a new hobby or two. You might even learn something new too. You might also start a new career or school, or move to a different place around this time. Things will start out pretty slow for you as you have time to adjust to what's around you.

6. Louis Vuitton

January 2022 to March 2022 will be a tougher time for your body. You might feel very physically or mentally drained. Some health problems in the past will probably re-surface. If you've delayed seeing a doctor or some medical professional about some issue, now is the time to go see them because your situation probably needs to be addressed.

Some of you may feel very anxious or depressed. You will probably need to seek professional help to help with your mental health. There may not be something bad that happens from January to March 2022, yet you will somehow feel very blue.

You may also experience some pain from January to March 2022. You may experience some heartache, likely from ending a romantic or a platonic relationship. You may also lose someone who is dear to you or experience some sort of loss during this period.

Others may experience trouble sleeping or have issues with their weight or diet. You may find yourself unable to sleep until like 2 am or later and then you wake at like 6 am. You might even find yourself sleeping during irregular times. Conversely, you might even sleep even more during this time like 11 hours plus per day. You may also gain more weight or somehow lose a lot of weight during this time.

From January to March 2022, you are advised to really take care of your body. It is important to stick to a healthy routine and to seek help with you need it.

[leia505]

The Sunrise and Your Sins | Chapter 2 (NSFW)

!!!! Link to Chapter 1 !!!!

AAAHHH thank you to everyone who read my first chapter!!! I’m sorry for the super long delay on chapter 2, I’ve been recovering from a car accident so this fanfic kind of lost it’s priority bc I’ve been in pain lol. But I’m feeling better now so new chapters should be coming out faster! 

From this chapter forward, there will be explicit sexual content meant for audiences 18+ so minors please do not engage! or engage and just don’t tell me idk 

All links to car visuals and playlists and art and tags and all that jazz can be found in chapter 1 :) 

Word Count: 14k

New Tags: consensual sex, oral sex(giving and receiving), brat and dom, choking, breeding kink, face sitting 

‘You free this weekend?’ you read the text off of your phone. You groggily glance at the time, which read 3:33 AM. 

‘Depends.’ you respond back to Kuroo.  Two and a half weeks had passed since the last job he worked, meaning it had been two and half weeks since you had seen him and discussed your suspicions about your father. 

‘Friend of mine is throwing a party. Karasuno Killers are gonna be there.’ Kuroo replies. Your pulse quickens, remembering the conversation you and Kuroo had about your brother and his racing team. 

‘I’ll be there.’ you pause before hitting send, questioning if the action you were tempted to make was a good idea. ‘Are you free rn?’ you type, pressing send and locking your phone, setting it down next to you as you stared up at the ceiling. Your heart raced at even the thought of Kuroo, of the idea of being in his presence alone again.

Your phone lit up seconds later. ‘Be there in 15.’ You can feel yourself blushing, and you can’t stop the grin that spread across your face. 

You practically jump out of bed, changing into something casual. A flash of red catches your eye, and you grab Kuroo’s jacket, draping it over your shoulders. You sit back down in bed, impatiently waiting for Kuroo to text you. 

After what felt like an eternity, you finally got a text from him. ‘Here princess.’ You smirk at the use of the nickname, you were starting to get used to hearing him call you princess, and you couldn’t deny the fact that you liked it. 

Moving quietly through the house, you quickly peer over to your father’s office to see if the lights were on. Long work nights were common with him, the only downside being that the computer with access to the security cameras was in that office. Lucky for you, he seemed to be asleep upstairs, so that was one less thing to worry about. 

“Hey there.” Kuroo’s deep voice practically echoed through the quiet night, and you quickly shush him as you lock the front door. He laughs, holding the car door open for you. He shuts it behind you and goes around to his side, climbing in and starting the car. 

“So, where to?” He asks, turning to you, his elbow resting against the center console, a huge grin spread across his face. 

“Anywhere.” You say, anxious to get away from your house, away from your father. It gave you chills thinking about your brother and the connections that were beginning to form, with your father only a few feet away at times. You tried your hardest to act as normal as possible around him, but you knew that eventually he would catch on to your sudden change in behavior. 

“Are you hungry?” Kuroo asks, pulling out his phone and unlocking it. You take a peek at his lock screen, and see a photo of a black cat staring back at you. 

You shrug. “I could eat.” You say, causing Kuroo to chuckle. 

“I know the perfect place.” He says, calling someone. “Hey Haiba, you guys still open?” He pauses as the person named Haiba responds. “Perfect. I’ll be there in 20. Save a table for two.” He pauses yet again. “No you ass, not for Kenma. I’m bringing a girl.” He says, hanging up the phone. 

You laugh at the interaction between them, looking over at Kuroo as he pulls out of the driveway and through the neighborhood. Kuroo glances over at you, smirking when he realizes you were already looking. You quickly look away, staring ahead intensely. 

“You look cute in my jacket.” He says. 

“Does that mean I get to keep it?” You ask playfully, smiling sweetly at him. He laughs, a big grin on his face. 

“I’ll tell you what. You can keep it, but I will need to borrow it from time to time for races. Fair?” He says, holding a hand out for you to shake as he keeps the other on the wheel. 

“Sounds good to me.” You say, grabbing his hand and shaking it. Your fingers graze over the callouses and scars on his knuckles, and you turn his hand over to examine them. 

“Just some work related injuries.” He jokes, squeezing your hand.

“These are from working for my dad?” You ask, your voice quiet, almost out of shame. 

“Yeah.” He responds. You couldn’t hide the painful expression on your face and Kuroo quickly took notice of it. “Nothing to worry about though, princess. I’m tougher than I look, I promise.” He says, winking. Kuroo brings your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss, making your heart skip a beat and your cheeks glow red. 

He lets go of your hand to switch gears as you enter the city. There are no shops that appear to be open and no one on the street. Kuroo slows down, pulling into a parking lot. 

“It doesn’t look like anything’s open.” You state as Kuroo gets out of the car. 

“Looks can be deceiving.” He says, shutting his car door. You let yourself out, closing the door behind you and turning towards him. He takes your hand and leads you to a small shop with a sign that reads “Haiba Ramen”. From the outside it had looked as though it was closed, but as soon as Kuroo swung the door open, you realized it was anything but.  

There were plenty of people in there, almost all of them wearing racing jackets of different colors, the style similar to Kuroo’s. The smell of ramen was strong and welcoming, your hunger growing as you entered the shop. 

“DK!” You hear someone call out. The patrons of the ramen shop all turn their heads to look at the both of you, and you were met by a chorus of greetings. 

“Someone’s popular.” You quietly comment to him as he leads you to a table away from the crowds. 

“Haiba’s part of Nekoma Crew, part time mechanic, part time ramen shop owner. He’s better at cooking than fixing cars though.” Kuroo motions towards the other patrons in the shop. “These are all racers. The store is closed to the public at 10, but stays open for friends and racers until 5. Me and the team usually have our meetings and get togethers here.” 

“Well who else would let you fuckers in this late at night?” A tall guy with silver hair says, placing two waters on the table. Kuroo gets up to greet him. 

“We’re eternally grateful Lev.” Kuroo jokes, giving Lev a half hug. Lev rolls his eyes as Kuroo sits back down.

“Hi.” You say shyly, giving a small wave to Lev, who smiled down at you. 

“You must be…(y/n).” Lev says holding a hand out for you to shake. 

You scrunch your eyebrows together, shaking his hand. “Uh, how do you know my name?” You ask skeptically, curious as to how he already knew you. 

“DK won’t stop talking about you at the shop. Sometimes it’s like he can’t shut up about you.” Lev smirks, looking over at Kuroo. You look at Kuroo with a face of fake shock, grinning from ear to ear. You see his ears growing red as he avoids your gaze. 

“Your tip is rapidly decreasing the longer this conversation goes on for.” Kuroo says, making you laugh. Lev scoffs, mockingly putting his hands up. 

“Alright, alright. I wouldn’t want to third wheel on your date any longer anyways. Now, what would you two love birds like to eat?” 

Kuroo sighs, putting his face in his hands in distress. The entire exchange made you laugh, getting to see Kuroo as a normal guy instead of a mob henchman was refreshing. Friends, not colleagues. Race cars, not drugs. Not to mention, it gives you butterflies thinking about the fact he talks about you to his crew. 

“Surprise me.” You say, catching Lev’s attention. “Make me whatever you think I’d like. Or whatever you feel like making. I promise I’ll eat anything.” Lev grins brightly, turning towards Kuroo. 

“I like her. Don’t screw this up!” Lev calls out to Kuroo as he walks away to the kitchen to start on whatever it was he would choose to serve you. 

“So you talk about me, huh?” You say, smirking at Kuroo. 

“Maybe.” He says, cheekily grinning at you. “You don’t talk about me to your friends?” 

“I...don’t have friends.” You say, shrugging. “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t really leave the house much.” 

“You don’t have any friends?” Kuroo asks, a puzzled expression on his face. 

“Nope.” You say, taking a sip of your water. “I mean, I had friends in high school. But I sort of drifted away from them after graduation and after my brother died.” 

Kuroo nods, knowing that your brother’s death was a touchy topic. “Well, you have to have someone to talk to. Someone you consider a friend.” He says, diverting the conversation away from the dark and depressing stuff. 

You thought to yourself for a second, trying to think of a person you found yourself spending time with and talking to, or even someone that you enjoy being around. “You.” You answer, smiling at Kuroo. “You’re kinda the only person I ever talk to.” 

Kuroo smiles back at you, letting out a small chuckle. “I’m honored, princess.” Kuroo takes your hand in his, planting another gentle kiss on the top of your hand, making you blush. 

“Are you usually up this late?” You ask, getting curious about Kuroo and his life away from you and your family. 

He shrugs, rubbing small circles along your knuckles. “Some nights, if I have a job or if I’m working on something with Kenma. Tonight I just happened to get a text from a friend about the party this weekend, I thought it’d be a good way for you to get in contact with Karasuno.”

“Who’s party is it?” 

“A good friend of mine, Kotarou Bokuto. He’s the leader of Fukurodani Squad, his racing name is Blackjack.” Kuroo answers. 

“Is he…” You pause, wondering the best way to ask if Bokuto’s a criminal. 

“No.” Kuroo says before you can finish your sentence. “He’s just a racer. Him and his crew are pretty well known internationally, so all his income comes from his shop. He’s...just a really good guy. Not a bad bone in his body.” 

“Oh, so you do have normal friends.” You say sarcastically. 

“Well, Fukurodani and Karasuno are the normal teams. They don’t do the shady stuff. Seijoh Brawlers and Nekoma Crew are pretty similar, since only me and Oikawa do the jobs. Kenma gets involved every once and awhile, but it's rare. Inarizaki though, they’re literally all drug dealers. Drug dealers who happen to also be racers.” Kuroo explains. 

“That would explain why Kita doesn’t have a fancy jacket.” You say, remembering the plain black hoodie he wore the last time you saw him. “So it’s just you, Oikawa, and Kita doing the shady stuff?” 

“Yeah, mainly just us. I promise not all racers are big bad guys.” Kuroo jokes to you. 

“You’re not a bad guy.” You say, squeezing his hand gently. “You’re just...someone who works for a bad guy. Bad guy adjacent.” You smile at him, knowing that one of the things that held Kuroo back from pursuing anything with you was the fact he saw himself as the villain. The truth was, maybe the both of you were just bad guy adjacent — not necessarily the villains, but stuck being attached to the bad. 

Kuroo gives you a sad smile, squeezing your hand back. “I guess that’s better than being the evil genius.” You knew exactly who he was talking about, who the evil genius was in this morbid epic that is your life. The mastermind, the puppeteer, the dark hand behind the curtain. Your father. It was a hard pill to swallow, but it was one that you had to, which you and Kuroo both knew. An unspoken acknowledgement of the fact that sooner or later, you would have to face your demons — that regardless of what, or who, they are — Kuroo would be right there beside you. 

Your moment with Kuroo was interrupted by Lev, walking out of the kitchen carrying a plate and a bowl. “Bon appetit love birds.” He says, placing a bowl of ramen in front of Kuroo and a plate of chicken wings in front of you. 

“Thanks Lev. Put it on the shop’s tab.” Kuroo says, digging into his ramen. 

“Thanks Lev.” You say, smiling and picking up a chicken wing. It was still steaming, hot and fresh from the fryer. 

“I hope you two enjoy. DK, you gonna be at Blackjack’s party this Saturday?” Lev asks, turning towards Kuroo. 

“Yeah, we’ll be there. Do you know who the party’s for?” Kuroo asks, picking up a soft boiled egg from his ramen and eating it. 

Lev shrugs, throwing a kitchen towel over his shoulder. “No clue. That guy just throws parties for the hell of it. I’ll see you both there!” He says, walking back towards the kitchen. 

You take a bite of the chicken wing, and you instantly understand why Kuroo said he was a great cook. “Holy shit.” You say, looking over at Kuroo. 

Kuroo peers over at you with a mouth full of noodles. “I know.” He says, mouth stuffed to the brim. He finishes chewing and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “A guy on my crew named Yamamoto always gets them. Same with Bokuto.” 

“It seems like you know everyone in Tokyo.” You say, digging into your big plate of wings. Lev also left you a small bowl of rice as well as a cup of miso soup, which you also began digging into. 

Kuroo laughs, picking up more noodles from his bowl. “If they race, I know them.” 

“It also seems like everyone knows you.” You say, thinking back to when you first entered the shop, and all the greetings Kuroo was met with. 

“Well, everyone kinda does. Y’know a title like Drift King isn’t just given to anyone.” He says, smirking at you. You roll your eyes at his arrogance. 

“How lucky am I to be sharing a meal with the great Drift King.” You say jokingly. Kuroo places his chopsticks down, looking across the table at you. 

“Is this not a date?” He asks seriously, eyebrows furrowed. You practically choke on your chicken, which you place down on the table. After wiping your hands on a napkin, you look at Kuroo, who was still staring at you intensely. 

“Was it supposed to be?” You ask shyly, unsure if the miscommunication was on your end or his. 

“Well, I kind of assumed, you asked if I was free. Now we’re eating a meal together. You never really fight it when people talk to us like a couple.” Kuroo says, fidgeting with his spoon that laid in the broth of his ramen. 

You pause for a second, thinking over what he just said. You avert his gaze, staring into your miso soup which had begun to settle and separate. “Did you...want this to be a date?” You ask, looking up at him skeptically. 

“I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to it being a date.” He answers carefully, but with a tone of confidence. “But, if you don’t want it to be, that’s fine.” He says quickly, trying to avoid a bad mood shift between the two of you. 

You pondered again over what he said, and what it would mean for the two of you. Is a relationship the right thing to get into with everything going on? Would it even be appropriate for the two of you to be together? 

“This is a date.” You say, your heart pounding away anxiously as you look into Kuroo’s hypnotizing hazel eyes. He grins proudly at you, all feelings of anxiety going away as soon as you confirmed that this was, in fact, a date. “But, it is just a date. It doesn’t mean anything...specific.” 

He shrugs, picking his chopsticks up to continue eating. “That’s fair. No worries, princess. I’m in no rush here.” 

You smile to yourself, content with the conclusion that you and Kuroo came to. “Thanks. I just don’t think I’m ready for anything serious right now. With everything going on with my dad.” You say, knowing that this was something Kuroo already knew. 

“Yeah, I get it. Bigger fish to fry right now. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” He says, winking at you. 

The two of you had continued to eat in silence, occupied with the delicious food in front of you. At one point, Kuroo had placed a small bundle of noodles into a spoon of broth, holding it out for you. 

“Aw, for me?” You say, leaning over to take the bite. The ramen was perfect, apparently everything Lev made was incredible. 

“What kind of guy doesn’t share his food with his beautiful date?” He says, making you smile. 

“I guess that means you deserve a chicken wing.” You say playfully, placing a wing in the empty bowl that once held your miso soup. “You should feel special, I really don’t share my food.” 

The two of you had finished your meals in silence, simply enjoying one another’s company. It feels as though this small outing was a break from the reality you both dread — rather than playing detective or operating within a gang, you were just a couple out on a date. 

“We better come back here one of these days.” You say, stacking your empty dishes up. You and Kuroo had finished everything, full and happy, now starting to get sleepy. The other racers in the shop had already left, and you could hear Lev cleaning in the kitchen. 

“Fine by me. As long as you still consider it a date.” Kuroo says, getting up from his seat and stretching. You get up as well, and Kuroo holds out a hand for you to take, which you do. Walking alongside him with his hand in yours, you grab onto his arm with your other hand, feeling especially affectionate towards him. 

“See you later Haiba!” Kuroo calls out as the two of you exit the shop, the cool night air breezing past your face, waking you up. 

You let go of Kuroo’s hand to open up your car door, and Kuroo walks around to his side and climbs in. As he turns on the car, the clock reads 5:05 AM. 

“It’s pretty late.” You comment, realizing how tired you had gotten. You lay your head against the car seat, turning your head to look at Kuroo. 

“Yeah, I know. Do you wanna go home now?” He asks, turning towards you to see your drooping eyelids. 

“Hmmm… not just yet. How about you drop me off when the sun comes up?” You ask sleepily. 

“Whatever you want princess.” Kuroo says quietly, starting the car. You rest your eyes as Kuroo begins driving off, feeling content as you drift off to the sound of Kuroo switching gears. You never thought that you’d ever be comfortable enough to fall asleep in someone’s car, given how paranoid your brother’s death had made you. But with Kuroo, you were just so at home, so trusting of him. You almost couldn’t believe that before your first job with Kuroo,  you just saw him as the hot guy who worked for your dad. 

Before you knew it, you were being gently awoken by Kuroo, the sun beginning to peak over the horizon. You didn’t recognize your surroundings, but you weren’t at all worried. There was never anything to worry about if Kuroo was with you. 

“Where are we?” You ask, looking around. It appeared as though Kuroo took you to a park, a bit away from the city. 

“We had some time to kill, I figured you’d want to see the sunrise.” He says, unbuckling his seat belt and turning to look out to the horizon. You do the same, sitting up in your seat and rubbing the sleep from your eyes. 

After a few moments, you recognize the park Kuroo took you to. “When I was younger, my mom would take me and my brother here.” You say, memories coming back to you. You thought it was strange, how everything seemed to be leading back to your brother lately. It almost felt like a sign. 

“I used to come here a lot too, with Kenma. Maybe we ran into each other once.” Kuroo says, leaning against the armrest. You gently lay your head against his shoulder, wrapping both of your arms around his. 

“What a coincidence that we ended up here.” You say softly, relishing the moment between the two of you. The sun’s rays were barely peeking over the horizon, giving the sky an orange glow. There was a decent amount of overcast, so it gave the sun a softness to it. It was as though the sky was still drowsy, unprepared to make its first appearance for the day. 

“No place I’d rather be.” Kuroo says, barely louder than a whisper. He tenderly places a kiss on the top of your head, staying there for a second longer than expected. 

You slowly move your head up to look at him, your faces closer than they have ever been before. At this distance, you could really study the features on his beautiful face, the dark bags under his eyes from one too many late nights, the small scar on his cheek that was most likely from a job gone wrong, his dark lashes that framed the striking hazel eyes that now stared directly into your own. 

You thought about all the other people that had stared into the same set of eyes you were now gazing into — all the women who knew him intimately, the friends who saw the good in him, the enemies who saw the evil, those whose last moments were spent looking down the barrel of a gun into these hazel eyes. To them, it probably felt like staring into the gates of hell, but for you, it felt like home. Kuroo felt like home. 

His lips slowly graze against yours, almost tentative, trying to read the situation as it happens in real time. A simple ask, a gentle whisper of a question against your lips, inquiring if this was okay. 

In a surge of confidence, your lips crash against his, urgency in your kiss, borderline desperation. Had you been pining for Kuroo all this time? More importantly, was he? 

His hand gently made its way up to your face, as yours snaked behind his neck, pulling him closer. His other hand moved underneath his jacket that you wore, wrapping around your waist. You felt the calluses on his fingertips, rough against the smooth skin of your lower back. 

The sun began beaming into the car, bringing the both of you into the light. It felt euphoric, being bathed in morning sun as you kissed Kuroo. Your heart raced in excitement as you felt Kuroo smile against your lips, and you gently sigh as he pulls away to look into your eyes. 

He grins at you, his eyes studying every detail of your face. You smile back at him, feeling pure bliss. 

“You kinda taste like chicken wings.” Kuroo says, chuckling softly. He gently runs his thumb against your cheek, admiring your face. 

You close your eyes, shaking your head at his stupid comment. You laugh, realizing that the goofiness, the silly jokes and banter that you and Kuroo share is the reason why there were never any doubts in your mind with him. Kuroo could make you laugh despite all the darkness in your life, and that is what made you feel the way you felt. Maybe it was love, but maybe it was too soon to tell. Maybe being the girl in the passenger seat was enough for you at this time. 

“Well you taste like ramen.” You say, your voice hoarse. 

“What a pair we make.” Kuroo says, placing one last tender kiss on your lips. 

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“Sweetheart, come here for a moment.” You hear your father call out to you from the hallway. You let yourself into his office, and find Kuroo sitting in the chair in front of his desk. 

“What’s going on?” You ask tentatively, sitting next to Kuroo. 

“Your dad has some questions. About us.” Kuroo says. 

“Us?” You question, looking at Kuroo. He wore a poker face perfectly, staring directly at your father with an unwavering gaze. 

“I know you two are getting close. And (y/n), sweetheart, you know I trust you. And Tetsurou, you have earned my trust over the years with your loyalty to this family. I just need to know what exactly is happening with you two.” Your father says. 

“We’re friends.” You say quickly, crossing your arms defensively. 

“Friends?” Kuroo asks, breaking his cool demeanor to look over at you. Your father raises an eyebrow, looking between you and Kuroo curiously as you try to figure out what this relationship is. 

“Maybe more than friends. Someday. Not right this moment. But a strong maybe.” You answer shortly, fumbling over your words. 

“I see.” Your father sees, nodding his head. “Are you two...being safe?” 

“Dad!” You say, embarrassed by this interrogation. 

“Yes, sir. Well, there hasn’t been anything that requires...safety, but when it does — IF! If it does, we will be safe. You have my word.” Kuroo says. You could hear his nerves getting the best of him, and you couldn’t help but find it entertaining how scared he sounds as he practically word vomits to your father. 

“Good.” Your father says shortly, awkwardly adjusting in his seat. “Now, for business...I don’t know if I’m okay with (y/n) being seen with you.” 

“What?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. 

“Our family is a moving target for a lot of people, especially the Nohebi Clan. I don’t know if it’s the best idea for the two of you to be going out in public.” 

“I understand, sir.” Kuroo says, in his eyes you could see his disappointment. 

“Dad, that’s ridiculous.” You say, getting fed up with the passivity of the conversation. “I’m going to be leading the Sakanoshita family one day. I’m a target no matter what. But no one will take me seriously when I do take over if I’m locked away all the time. People need to know me. They need to know who’s going to be the next King of Tokyo.” 

“But you just had your first job. You’re jumping into this too quickly.” Your father argues. 

“Keishin had years of training. I’m playing a game of catch up here, and I think the more experience I have, the better. I can’t run an empire from the confines of this house, dad.” Again, playing the dead brother card. It’s a tricky one to play, but it always works. 

Your father sighs, folding his hands in front of him. “You sure know how to argue.” 

“I learned from the best.” You say, smirking. 

“I’ll make a deal with you.” Your father turns toward Kuroo. “You’re getting a promotion. You’re now (y/n)’s bodyguard. She goes somewhere, you follow. If she wants to go somewhere that is potentially dangerous, don’t allow it. And you.” He turns back towards you once more. “You don’t go anywhere without him. You can go out, be social, earn your place here as a Sakanoshita. Let people learn who’s the next King of Tokyo.” 

You grin, knowing that you would be able to reach an agreement with your father. “Sounds like a deal. Kuroo and I will be going to a party this Saturday.” 

As you proudly saunter out of your father’s office, he calls out a question. “What party?” 

“Racer party. Gotta make sure everyone knows the new Sakanoshita boss.” You call out, walking out the door and down the hallway, leaving Kuroo and your father to their business meeting. 

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You could hear the party before you could see it, the music blasting so loud it could be heard from down the street. Even this far from the house, there were already cars parked along the side, all shiny and suped up like Kuroo’s. A lot of time had passed since your last real social outing, but you were at ease knowing Kuroo would be there with you. 

“Just a fair warning, Bokuto is...very loud.” Kuroo says, slowly driving past all the cars and making his way to the driveway of the house. The house was very modern, with a long driveway leading up to a white home with a balcony in the front, huge windows letting you peek in to see all the people inside. The music continued to grow louder and louder as you drew closer to the house, and the cars got nicer as well. Apparently only the people with fancy cars got the good parking spots. 

“How loud are we talking?” You ask Kuroo as he puts the car in park and turns the engine off. 

“Like...imagine the exact polar opposite of Kenma. Then make it louder. That’s Bokuto.” Kuroo explains as he gets out of the car. You do the same, walking over to his side and grabbing his hand. The two of you walk up the stairs to the door, and Kuroo swings it open without knocking. And just like that, you were officially at your first street racer party. 

“Hey, it’s DK!” You hear someone shout distantly, followed by a chorus of greetings. It was just like the ramen shop, everyone being so quick to greet Kuroo. 

“Hey everyone.” Kuroo says loudly, greeting everyone at once. He pulls your hand so you’re standing in front of him, leading the way into the party. Everyone gawks at you as Kuroo places a hand on your waist, coaxing you to walk further into the house. 

“Does everyone know you? Should I start getting used to that sort of greeting?” You ask, maneuvering your way through the crowd. 

Kuroo laughs, giving your belt loop a tug and pulling you into him, your back crashing into his strong chest. “Eventually people will start saying DK and (y/n).” He says into your ear, kissing you on the cheek. You smirk at his comment, a part of you enjoyed the attention everyone was giving you as Kuroo held you against his body. He really knew every way to feed into your ego, and you really did love it. 

“HEY HEY HEY! IS THAT MY BOY DK?!” you hear a loud, chaotic voice say from the kitchen. You and Kuroo turn your heads to find the source, and you see a tall, muscular guy with spiky grey hair grinning at the both of you. You notice the grey bomber jacket he wore, meaning that he was a racer like Kuroo and Oikawa. His appearance was a bit intimidating, and his features were almost...owl-like. 

“BOKUTO!” Kuroo yells, letting go of your hand to greet the host of the party. The two tall, well built men embrace in a hug, clapping each other on the back. You stand there, smiling at this new side of Kuroo. You understood what he meant by Bokuto making him feel more normal. 

“Good to see you dude! Hey, Lev mentioned you were bringing a girl! Where is she?!” Bokuto asks excitedly, looking around to try and spot you. 

“Right here.” You answer, moving to stand next to Kuroo. “I’m (y/n). And I’m assuming you’re the infamous Bokuto?” 

Bokuto laughs, throwing his head back. “Infamous, eh? That must mean DK’s been talking about me.” 

“I figured I should warn her on what she’d be walking into.” Kuroo says slyly, wrapping an arm around you. You found it endearing how affectionate Kuroo acts with you, making sure to keep you close. 

“Glad I didn’t scare ya away.” Bokuto jokes, grinning at you. “Well, DK here is like a brother to me, so by extension that makes you family. Both of you just make yourselves right at home, drink whatever you want and let me know if you need anything. Mi casa es su casa, as Cypher would say. Well, he probably wouldn’t say that, but it’s definitely Spanish.” 

You laugh, smiling up at Bokuto. Kuroo was right, he really is just a genuinely nice guy. Bokuto was a refreshing change from the usual dark and scary stuff  that you and Kuroo dealt with. 

“Say, speaking of Cypher, where is the punk?” Kuroo asks, looking around. 

“Upstairs with the rest of the Brawlers. Your guys are out back. Say, you guys want anything to drink?” Bokuto asks, turning to the counter full of liquor. 

“None for me. Gotta make sure someone gets home safe.” Kuroo says, squeezing your shoulder. 

“Well look at you being all chivalrous!” Bokuto says, playfully punching Kuroo’s arm. “Anything for you, (y/n)?”  

“Sure, I’ll drink whatever.” You say, unsure of what to ask for. High school parties were one thing, but what the hell are you supposed to drink at a street racer’s party? 

“One mystery drink coming right up.” Bokuto says, turning around. “Akaashi!” 

A handsome guy with short dark brown hair turns at the sound of his name. “Can you make a drink for (y/n) pretty please?” Bokuto asks, grinning at him. Akaashi nods, putting his cup down and picking up an empty one for you. He pours some random bottles of liquor and some more random juices into a cup, handing it to you. 

“Thanks.” You say, taking the cup. You take a sip, and to your surprise, it wasn’t disgusting. 

“Akaashi’s kinda the drink expert. And car expert. He’s kinda good at everything.” Bokuto says, noticing your look of amazement. Akaashi rolls his eyes behind him, but you notice his ears flushing red at Bokuto’s compliment. “I’m gonna go be a good host and do my host thing, but I’ll find you two later!” Bokuto turns away from the both of you, walking towards the crowd of people outside. 

“Oh and DK!” Bokuto calls out loudly, making plenty of people turn towards Kuroo. “I’m glad to see you’re finally off the market! No more bachelor’s life for you!” 

“Bachelor’s life?” You question, looking up at him skeptically. Prying eyes peered over at the two of you, no doubt trying to sneak a peek at the great DK and the girl that took him off the market.

“Don’t worry about it.” He answers, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact. Of course he was a lady’s man before you, just look at him. But just how many girls were in your place before you got there? 

Kuroo takes your hand, leading you upstairs to where Cypher was. The two of you found him lounging on a couch with a bunch of other guys wearing jackets similar to his, talking and laughing with a bottle of expensive looking tequila in his hand. 

“Hola amigo.” Kuroo says in a mocking tone, sitting next to Cypher. You sit next to Kuroo, and he puts his arm around you possessively. 

“Hola lovers.” Oikawa slurs, lazily placing an arm around Kuroo. “Good to see you didn’t scare princesa away.” He says, nodding to you. 

“You’re (y/n).” You hear someone say from the opposite end of the couch. You turn your head to see a guy with tan skin and short spiky brown hair staring at you. 

“Uh, yeah.” You say, caught off guard by how many people already knew you. Seriously, how often did Kuroo talk about you? 

“Oh, sorry.” He says, appearing to snap himself out of deep thought. “Cypher was telling us about the last job and mentioned you. Just put two and two together. I’m Iwaizumi.” He says, getting up and extending a hand to you. You shake his hand, smiling at him. 

“That’s right, I was telling a story! Now, as I was saying…” Oikawa continues on, recounting the events of the job that you accompanied them on, silver tequila sloshing around in the glass bottle as Oikawa wildly gestures with his hands as the story progresses. 

“So Sly Fox had the cargo the entire time?” Iwaizumi asks, looking at us skeptically. 

“The entire time.” Kuroo says, nodding. “Speaking of the Sly Fox, where is he?” 

“Outside with your crew.” a scary looking guy with deep set eyes answers. His hair looked very unique, a bleach blonde buzz cut with two black stripes running around his head. 

“Thanks Mad Dog.” Kuroo says, getting up, dragging you with him. “Cypher, let’s go. Got some work talk to do with Sly Fox.” Oikawa clumsily gets up, taking the tequila with him. 

The three of you walk down the stairs and out the backdoor, where you immediately see a group of guys sitting around a fire pit, half of them wearing black, and the other half wearing Nekoma bombers. 

“Sly Fox!” Kuroo calls out, getting Kita’s attention. He looks up from his rolling tray, blunt in hand. “We got some business to talk about. You too, Snake Eyes.” He says, pointing at Kenma. 

Kita nods, looking over at his guys and motioning for them to leave the area. Kuroo does the same, and the Nekoma Crew minus Kenma leave. You, Oikawa, and Kuroo each take a seat around the fire. 

“What are we talking about?” Kenma asks, looking over at you and Kuroo. Kita continues to roll, and Oikawa slouches in his seat, taking sips from his bottle. 

“Yeah, what are we talking about fellas?!” Bokuto says with a grin on his face, walking up to the group of you and grabbing a seat. You couldn’t help but smile at his behavior, his charisma. 

“Work stuff, Bokuto.” Kuroo answers, giving Bokuto a warning look. 

“Oh! Got it! Say no more, plausible deniability and all that jazz. You guys let me know if you need me!” He says, getting up immediately and walking away with haste. The entire time the grin on his face never wavered, he didn’t seem the least bit offended by being kicked out of the conversation.

“Bokuto knows the stuff we do, but we keep him out of it. He’s...a bit soft for our line of work. And he knows if he hears anything, he could get in trouble. So, he stays away.” Kita explains, licking his rolling paper and sealing the blunt. 

“We got some new intel from the boss.” Kuroo says. Oikawa sits up, paying attention now that the real business talk had started. “We may know who gave the anonymous tip during the last job.” 

“Someone we know?” Kenma asks. 

Kuroo nods. “Suguru Daishou. Fangs. He’s the lead for the Nohebi Clan.” 

“Nohebi?” You ask. Everyone looks over at you. “They used to work for my dad.”

“What happened to them?” Kita asks, lighting his blunt and getting it started. 

“Daishou crossed my family, I guess he was trying to make a name for himself by taking on my dad. Didn’t end well.” You say, remembering overhearing your father’s work conversations with Fangs when you were in high school. 

“Which would explain the grudge he has, and why he tried to bust us.” Kenma says. 

“But how would he know about the move? There were no other cars on the road that night.” Oikawa points out, setting his bottle down. 

“That’s the million dollar question. We still don’t know how he knew, but we do know he has eyes on us. Which means you guys and your teams need to be careful, at least until the Daishou problem is sorted out. Sound good?” Kuroo asks, looking at Oikawa and Kita. They both nod, understanding the risk that the Nohebi Clan posed. 

“I’ll see what I can find out about Fangs and Nohebi.” Kenma says, which Kuroo nods to. 

“Thank you. The more we know, the better.” Kuroo glances at you, meeting your eyes. “Any of you guys know where Karasuno Killers are?” He asks, looking around the group. 

“Upstairs living room. You got business with them?” Oikawa asks, looking over at you. 

“Something like that.” Kuroo says, taking your hand and standing up. “We’ll catch you guys later.” 

“See ya.” You say, giving a half wave with your cup in your hand. You follow behind Kuroo, once again going through the house and up the stairs. You were keenly aware of the eyes that seemed to follow your every move, and you couldn’t help but notice that they were almost entirely female. What, was Kuroo such a hot commodity that you being with him tonight was a headline? 

“See that, you pulled the E brake too soon.” You hear someone say from the partially shut door. You and Kuroo had made it to the room that Oikawa said the Karasuno Killers were in. 

“You guys watch racing footage at parties?” Kuroo questions, slowly opening the door. Inside, there were three guys sitting on a couch in front of a TV that appeared to be playing a video of a street race. 

“Not everyone is blessed with your drifting skills, DK.” One of the guys say, getting up to greet him. He had a warm smile, dark brown eyes, and short brown hair. Him and Kuroo give each other one of those bro hugs, and afterwards he turns to look at you. 

“I don’t think we’ve met.” He says, extending his hand to you. “Daichi Sawamura. Mechanic for Karasuno Killers.” 

“(y/n) Sakanoshita.” You say, shaking his hand. He raises his eyebrows slightly at surprise, no doubt at the mention of your family name.

“Sakanoshita?” Another guy with a buzzcut and a gruff voice says from behind Daichi.

“As in the King of Tokyo Sakanoshita?!” The third guy says, his voice higher in pitch. He wore his brown hair spiked up, with a single blonde streak right in the middle.

“Please excuse these two dumbasses, they’re not the best socially.” Daichi smiles apologetically, moving to invite you and Kuroo to join them on the couch. Behind you, Kuroo shuts the door. 

“You said you’re a Sakanoshita?” The buzzcut one repeats, staring at you intensely. 

“Tanaka, chill.” Daichi warns, looking over at him. 

“Yeah Tanaka, you’re gonna scare her away.” The guy with the blonde streak jokes, punching Tanaka in the arm. 

“Oh shut it, Noya.” Tanaka says, shoving him back. “Sorry. My sister knew someone with that last name.” He says, looking over at you once more.

“You’re Saeko’s brother?” You ask him, getting his attention. He looks surprised, almost a little scared by his sister’s name being mentioned. 

“How do you know my sister?” He asks, his voice taking on a threatening tone. 

“Yeah, what’s your business with big sis?” Noya asks, eyes darting between you and Kuroo. 

“Take it easy, guys. We mean no harm, I swear it on my crew.” Kuroo says in a peaceful tone. Tanaka and Noya lighten up, but continue to stare at you skeptically. 

“Keishin Ukai was my brother.” You say, causing the three men from Karasuno to sit straight up, simply from the mention of his name. “I know he dated your sister, and I want to talk to her.” 

“No one talks to big sis. Especially not strangers.” Noya says, leaning back against the couch. 

“You’re Black Lungs’ sister?” Daichi asks, looking at you with curiosity. 

“Yeah. He raced under the name Ukai to get away from my family. And I know about the accident. I’m sorry Tanaka.” You say sincerely, looking at Tanaka. You didn’t know to what extent Saeko was injured, but you assumed that she had to have taken some amount of damage. 

Tanaka shrugs, looking away. “It’s all good. Why do you need to talk to my sister?” 

“I need to know the truth about my brother. About how he died. And I heard that your sister and my brother were pretty close, I just want to talk to her about him.” You say, nearly begging. 

Tanaka sat for a second, thinking of a response. “My sister...she doesn’t talk to many people nowadays. She hasn’t been the same since your brother passed. Black Lung was her soulmate, or whatever.” He says awkwardly, shifting in his seat. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to put her through reliving that night just for your sake. I really am sorry, (y/n), about your brother. He was a cool dude.” 

You sigh, taking a long drink from your cup. You had a feeling it would go like this, but you couldn’t help feeling disappointed by the outcome. 

“We think we know the truth about his death.” Kuroo says, making everyone in the room look at him. “We know it wasn’t an accident.” You knew he was taking a risk saying this, telling these guys the suspicions you held. He was gamlbing with the only intel the two of you had. 

“What do you mean the truth? His death was a tragic accident and that’s that.” Daichi says in an assertive tone. 

“Daichi, it’s okay.” Tanaka says quietly, his eyes not moving from your own. “You two know the truth? Or just theories?” He questions you. 

“We...have theories. But I think that talking to your sister will help point us in the right direction. Or maybe even give us exactly what we need to prove our theories.” You say, trying your hardest to convince Tanaka. 

Tanaka sighs, looking at the TV, which remained paused on a frame of an orange Mitsubishi. “I don’t know.” 

“No one knows you.” Noya points out, getting your attention. “You don’t belong to any crew, I know you’re here with DK but you aren’t officially a part of Nekoma. Everyone knows your dad is a shady dude. And Saeko shouldn’t have to relive Black Lung’s death for a stranger.” 

“You’re right.” You say, knowing that everything he was saying was correct. You were a stranger, the idea of a dead street racer’s little sister suddenly coming out of hiding to ask a thousand questions about her brother’s death was far fetched, even for you. “You guys have no reason to trust me, or to let me talk to Saeko. But I’m desperate. I just — I need to know what happened to my brother. I’ll do anything.” 

“What do you think Saeko would want? What would she have (y/n) do to prove herself?” Kuroo asks. 

“I know exactly what she would want.” Tanaka says, sighing and sitting up. “A race. A memorial for Black Lung. We haven’t had one for a while, but the last time she had one, all the money raised from it went to...a memorial fund. For your brother.” 

“A memorial fund? For Keishin?” You question, uncertain why the son of a millionaire needed a memorial fund. 

“It goes to Saeko. Helps keep the shop open, and funds her research into what happened to your brother.” Daichi answers. 

“So I’m not the only one with theories.” You say, beginning to understand. “I’m assuming it goes to P.I.’s, buying access to private files, stuff like that?” 

“We can neither confirm nor deny that.” Noya says in a robotic tone, like it was a line he was taught to say. 

“If we do the memorial race, who’s racing?” Kuroo asks, changing the topic. 

“Me.” You answer immediately, making everyone look at you in shock. “A Black Lung memorial race, with his little sister making her racing debut. It could be big. Raise a lot of money. I know the type of power my family name has in this city.” 

“And it would prove to Saeko that you’re serious about meeting her.” Daichi points out. 

“Okay, how about this.” Tanaka says, shifting in his seat once more. “You and me, headline race. If we can get some more racers in on this, then great. If you win, you can meet Saeko. If you don’t, then oh well. At least she’ll get some more funds for her...side project.” 

“I can get some more racers in on this.” Kuroo says. 

“Perfect. We got a deal, you two?” Daichi asks, looking between you and Tanaka. You nod, sticking your hand out. 

“Deal.” Tanaka says, shaking your hand.

“Looks like we got a race to plan.” Daichi says, grinning at Kuroo. 

Kuroo smirks, getting up. “I’ll go start recruiting some more racers.” 

You follow Kuroo, getting up and heading for the door. “I’ll see you on the road, cue ball.” You say, smirking at Tanaka. You slowly head out, leaving the door cracked open. 

“HA! CUE BALL! Get it, cause you’re freakin bald!” Noya yells, cackling with laughter. You chuckle, their conservation fading out as you walk with Kuroo back downstairs. 

For about an hour or so, you and Kuroo went around the party, mingling with racers, recruiting them for the Black Lung memorial. You got at least enough people for three more races. So far, the lineup was you vs. Tanaka, Kuroo vs. Bokuto, Iwaizumi vs. Atsumu Miya from Inarizaki, and Oikawa vs. Kita. Kuroo pointed out that there would be a good turnout for the memorial given how many great racers were on the bracket, which made you both nervous and hopeful. 

“So, since when do you race?” Kuroo asks you, sitting down on the couch. 

“I’m pretty sure I can figure it out.” You say, sitting down next to him, draping your legs over his. “Gas pedal makes car go vroom vroom. Seems simple enough.” You joke to him, making him roll his eyes. 

“Sounds like someone needs a teacher.” He says, leaning closer to you. 

“Sounds like someone wants to teach me.” You say, closing the gap between the two of you, kissing him. 

A buzz from your pocket interrupts you, causing you to pull away from Kuroo and take your phone out. 

‘Call me now.’ the text read from your dad. Kuroo saw it over your shoulder, and immediately sat up. 

“Dad, is everything okay?” You ask, trying to drown out the sound of the party. 

“You need to get out of there, have Kuroo take you somewhere safe. Nohebi is looking for us.” Your dad says in a rushed tone. You hear some shuffling on his end, and your mother’s voice in the distance. 

“What? Nohebi knows I’m here?” You ask. Kuroo looks at you with concern, seemingly ready to get up and run at any moment. 

“Daishou has eyes everywhere. Don’t come home, your mother and I won’t be here. Tell Kuroo to protect you no matter what.” There’s a brief moment of silence between the two of you. “Your mom and I love you, sweetheart. We’ll see you soon.” Three beeps signal the end of the call. 

“We need to go. Nohebi’s coming.” You say, jumping up. Kuroo follows suit. 

“I’ll let the guys know.” Kuroo says, beginning to race towards the backyard where Inarizaki, Seijoh, and Nekoma were hanging out. 

You follow him out, trailing behind him as he approaches Cypher and Sly Fox. Before you can catch up to him, he’s already heading back towards you, taking your hand and dragging you through the house and out the front door. 

“Will everyone be okay?” You ask him, running to the car. You hop in, Kuroo doing the same and turning the car on. 

“Between Seijoh, Inarizaki, and Nekoma, they have Nohebi outnumbered three to one. They won’t try anything at a party this crowded. Daishou’s too smart to fight a losing battle.” Kuroo says, immediately racing away from the party, the houses of the neighborhood zooming past your line of sight. “The gangs aren’t the target anyways. We are.” 

As if on cue, you see in the rearview mirror three cars pull up to the party, and Daishou climbs out of one of them. He was vaguely familiar, you could barely recall seeing him in your father’s office, but you knew that he would recognize you and Kuroo in a heartbeat. 

“We got out just in time.” You say, looking over at Kuroo. 

“Barely. We’re not in the clear just yet princess, still need to get somewhere safe.” Kuroo says shortly, continuing to fly down the empty Tokyo streets. “We don’t know if Daishou had eyes on us as we left. And as soon as he realizes we aren’t there, they’re gonna be all over the city looking for us.” 

“So where do we go?” You ask him. 

Kuroo pauses, staring out at the freeway in front of the two of you. “My safehouse. It’s under a bogus name, in an old neighborhood. They won’t know to look there.” 

You nod, sighing and rubbing your eyes. You didn’t feel even the slightest bit tipsy from the drink you had earlier. How did the night go bad so quickly?

“Hey.” Kuroo says gently, reaching over to hold your hand. “Everything will be okay. As soon as we’re at the safehouse, we’ll be in the clear. And I’m sure your mom and dad are somewhere safe as well.” 

His reassurance goes a long way, easing your nerves and allowing you to relax a little. There was no use stressing yourself out while you’re stuck in the car, driving to an unknown destination. 

After about 50 minutes of silent driving, Kuroo finally pulls off of the freeway and enters an old, run down neighborhood. Everything was quiet, and the streetlights overhead were flickering in the darkness. 

“Home sweet home.” Kuroo says, pulling into an alley next to an apartment building. He turns the car off, going to the trunk. You get out as well, watching Kuroo as he drapes a large tarp over the car. A bright red luxury car would definitely stand out in a neighborhood like this. 

Kuroo takes your hand and leads you up the apartment complex stairs to a door labeled ‘A402’. With one of the many keys on his keychain, Kuroo unlocks the door, opening it for you. 

There wasn’t anything very special about the apartment, it seemed like the type of place a person would crash at for a night or two then leave. A small but functional kitchen, a modestly sized living area with a couch and a TV. As you continue further into the apartment, you see a quaint bathroom with a standing shower, and a bedroom barely big enough to fit a full sized bed. 

“There’s some pillows and stuff in the hall closet. And some extra clothes in the bedroom.” Kuroo says, setting his keys on the counter and pulling out his phone. As you reach for a light switch, Kuroo stops you. “Wait, don’t. We shouldn’t make it look like anyone’s home, just in case. At least until I hear back from Kenma.” 

Although his paranoia seemed a bit much for you, you knew that it was for a good reason. If the Nohebi Clan was enough of a threat to make your father go into hiding, no precaution was too extreme. 

“I’m gonna go change.” You call out to him, grabbing a spare shirt and pair of men’s boxers from the bedroom closet. You gently close the door, beginning to strip off your party outfit and changing into Kuroo’s clothes. 

After taking a moment to recollect your thoughts, you decide there was no use worrying about things that were out of your control. Your mother and father, the race that you volunteered for, even the party you just fled from. What was in your control, however, was the bed.

“I’ll put some sheets on the bed.” You shout out to Kuroo once more, grabbing the pillows and sheets from the closet. It felt almost hotel-like, the way everything was pristine and untouched. At least you knew this wasn’t the sort of place Kuroo took other girls. 

“Perfect.” You say, fluffing the pillows one last time, then stepping back to admire your work. 

“I heard back from Kenma.” Kuroo says, pushing the door open and entering the room. He flops onto the bed, ruining your perfect sheets and collapsing your freshly fluffed pillows. 

You sigh in annoyance, closing your eyes to keep your cool. “What did he say?” You ask, sitting next to Kuroo. 

“Everything’s all good. Daishou and his guys showed up, asked for us. Oikawa and Kita were waiting for them, so they barely even made it past the front door. Told them we left a while ago, and that they didn’t know where we went.” Kuroo rubs his forehead with his hands, pushing his hair back. In the dim light that radiated from the street lamps outside, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes. 

“No one got hurt? Are they still out looking for us?” You ask, your brain going a thousand miles an hour. 

“Everyone's fine.” Kuroo says gently, taking your hand. “From what Kenma knows, they gave up looking for us and now they’re trying to find your dad. I think they’re assuming I brought you to them.” 

You breathe another sigh of relief. The two of you were finally in the clear, finally safe, at least for tonight. “So we’re okay? At least for now?” 

“For now, yes. In the morning Kenma will let me know if we’re all clear to go back to your place. But for right now, we’re safe.” Kuroo says, turning over to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his head on your thigh. 

“We’re safe.” You whisper to yourself, running your fingers through Kuroo’s unruly black hair. The moment of calm being shared between the two of you is disrupted by a loud rumbling from your stomach. 

“You hungry?” Kuroo asks, grinning against your leg. 

“Maybe.” You say, realizing how hungry you’ve been all night. Is eating at parties still not cool, or was that only a high school thing? You didn’t see anyone else eating at Bokuto’s, so you assume it still wasn’t. Or maybe you were too worried about everyone staring at you to notice if anyone was eating. 

“I’ll go grab some stuff at the convenience store.” Kuroo says, getting up and grabbing his jacket. “Onigiri?” 

“And some ramen please.” You request politely, smiling sweetly at him. “Be careful.” 

“Always am, princess.” He says, leaning down to plant a kiss on your lips. 

Kuroo exits the room and you hear the front door shut and lock. You found yourself in a silent, dark apartment, alone. 

‘Might as well see if the TV works.’ you think to yourself, getting up and walking to the living room and plopping down on the couch. Just like the bed, it felt brand new, as if you were the first person to sit on it. 

After flicking the TV on, you mindlessly scroll through channels, trying to find something to occupy your mind. It felt wrong, how everything was so dangerous and scary tonight, but all that you could think of was that one thing Bokuto said. ‘No more bachelor’s life for you!’ What does that even mean? 

Grabbing your phone, you realize that you really had no one to talk to. Normal girls would text their best friend, or even just a regular friend when they want to talk about boy problems. Normal girls, with normal friends and safe lives. Maybe Kuroo really is the only person you talk to. 

You scroll through your recent messages, trying to find anyone to talk to. Dad — no. For obvious reasons. Mom — maybe on a regular day, but not right now. Kuroo — big no, for even more obvious reasons. Dentist — yeah, if you were really that desperate. 

“I guess I could talk to myself.” You mutter out loud. After a moment of lonesome silence, you sigh. “Yeah, no. I’m not that crazy.” 

What kind of bachelor’s life was Kuroo living before you came along, before that early morning watching the sunrise? You always assumed he was the no strings attached sort of guy, considering the type of work he does. But then again, the only times you ever saw him was when he was working. Maybe the Kuroo you knew was just one side, the professional side. Of course he let his guard down around you, joking and flirting when you were alone. It had been that way for as long as you could remember, since Kuroo started working for your dad. But maybe that was just another side, the side for girls he was interested in. Maybe you weren’t the only one who got to see that side. You saw two out of however many sides he has — the flirt and the henchman. Maybe you didn’t know him at all. 

The sound of the front door creaking open draws you out of your thoughts, and you look up to see Kuroo with a convenience store bag filled with food. 

“I wasn’t sure which onigiri you’d want, so I got one of each.” He says, plopping a bag filled with various onigiris onto the living room table. “And I got two ramens, spicy and regular. I’ll take whichever one you don’t want.” 

“Spicy please.” You say, chuckling at how much food Kuroo got for just the two of you. Kuroo shrugs his jacket off, leaving it on the couch. Grabbing the bag with the ramen, he walks into the kitchen, flicking the lights on. 

“One spicy ramen coming right up.” He says, pulling a pot out of the cupboard. You grab a salmon onigiri from the bag in front of you, unwrapping it and taking a bite. 

“How often do you use this place?” You ask, watching Kuroo as he fills the pot with water and puts it on the stove. 

“Once in a blue moon, really. If a job goes wrong and I need a place to lay low, I stay here. Or if I need a place to crash and don’t feel like driving home.” He answers. 

“Where do you live, anyways?” 

“Close by the Nekoma shop, same building as Kenma. We talked about being roommates for a while, but we agreed we’d probably start hating one another.” Kuroo chuckles to himself, walking back to the living room to grab an onigiri for himself. 

“So it’s just you?” You ask, trying to steer the conversation in your favor. 

“Me and Yoruichi.”

“Yoruichi?” You ask, feeling like you knew the name from somewhere. Maybe an old anime?

“My cat.” He says, grinning. “I found her on a job, actually. She kept following me around and just jumped into my car when I wasn’t looking.” 

“Sounds like a pretty good life.” You say, trying your hardest to be subtle. “A bachelor’s life.” Okay, not so subtle. 

“I knew you were still thinking about that.” Kuroo says, laughing. “You know you can just ask me stuff. No need to try and jump over hurdles trying to talk to me.” 

“I’m not really good at this.” You admit. “You know...talking. Being open. Relationship stuff.” 

“Relationship, huh?” Kuroo asks, turning to you and smirking. The pot of water behind him was at a rolling boil, letting steam into the kitchen. 

You roll your eyes, your cheeks were definitely blushing but you hope that Kuroo couldn’t see it in the dim light. “Whatever this is.” You say quietly, knowing that a real label was the last thing either of you were thinking of with all the things you both were dealing with. 

“Like I said, ask me anything.” Kuroo says, his back turned to you as he stirred the ramen. 

“What did Bokuto mean by ‘a bachelor’s life’?” You ask, getting up to join Kuroo in the kitchen. You lean against the counter opposite the stove, staring at Kuroo’s muscular back. 

“I was...definitely a bachelor. For a while.” Kuroo says, back still turned to you. 

“Like...you had…” you say, trailing off. You were torn between saying “hoes” or “bitches”.

“I had...some girls that I spent time with. Nothing serious, though. I always made sure to keep things casual.” The conversation felt tense, slowly but surely growing more and more awkward as more details were being revealed. 

“I don’t really care about how many there were.” You say quickly, reassuring Kuroo and clearing some of the tension. “I don’t care who they are either. But is there anyone I should be worried about? It felt like everyone was staring at me at the party.” The memory of all the girls at the party staring at you curiously was persisting in your mind. 

“No one to worry about, really. None of them seem like the type to backstab, especially considering soon everyone will know you’re a Sakanoshita.” Kuroo says slyly, referring to the upcoming race in memory of your brother. You knew that as soon as everyone learned of your family, your sense of anonymity in Kuroo’s world would be gone. 

“I have one more question.” You say, moving to stand next to the stove, nearly in front of Kuroo. “If those girls were nothing, and you usually keep things casual, what are we?” 

Kuroo pauses, thinking for a moment before setting down his chopsticks and turning the heat to a simmer. Turning to you, he places his hands on either side of the counter next to you, trapping you underneath him. Your heart raced as you felt your breath catch in your throat, caught off guard by Kuroo’s sudden closeness to you. 

“I’m whatever you want me to be.” He says, barely louder than a whisper, his lips hovering over yours. 

“You’re mine.” You say, your gaze bouncing from his eyes to his lips. Kuroo moves closer to you, his body pressing against yours. 

“I’m yours.” He responds, wrapping one of his arms around your waist. 

“Kuroo…” You whisper, lips grazing his. He reaches next to you, turning the stove off. In an instant, his lips crash against yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, desperate for more — more contact, more kisses, more Kuroo. The entire night Kuroo kept you close to him, never leaving your side at the party, always making sure to let his kisses linger a few seconds longer than normal. All the pent up tension was finally being released, the adrenaline rush that came with all the drama from tonight only fueled the boldness of yours and Kuroo’s actions. 

You grind your hips against him, making him groan. You were very aware of two things; his growing member, hard against your body, and the sudden wetness between your legs. 

You gently push against Kuroo, freeing yourself from underneath him. His lips stay attached to yours, refusing to break the seal the two of you made. In one swift motion, you release from his grasp, and without looking back, you calmly walk to the bedroom, leaving Kuroo standing in the kitchen alone, pining for more. 

“Are you coming or not? Make sure you turn off the stove.” You call behind you, toying with Kuroo. You grin to yourself, knowing that you were just as irresistible to him as he was to you.

You open the bedroom door, behind you Kuroo’s footsteps grew closer and closer. Suddenly, you feel his arms around your waist again, and in an instant Kuroo is in front of you grabbing you by the throat, moving you so your back is against the door, pushing you backwards to shut it. 

“Such a pretty princess.” Kuroo says, closing the gap between you two. You felt your heart rate quickening, being trapped under Kuroo’s touch like this. A light moan escapes your lips, this dominant side of Kuroo makes you want him even more. His hand wrapped around your throat, his hard cock against your leg, the whole room felt electrified. 

“Kuroo please.” You whisper, eager for more. 

“You want me?” Kuroo asks, his lips barely touching yours. He wraps his other arm around you, grabbing your ass and pulling you against his body. The only thing that stopped the two of you from being directly pressed against one another was his hand around your throat. 

“Yes.” You answer breathlessly, moving your head forward, your lips colliding with his. Kuroo breathes heavily, removing his hand from your throat and moving to grab your ass. Almost by instinct, you give a light jump, wrapping your legs around Kuroo’s waist, his hands supporting you and keeping you from falling. 

Kuroo moves backwards until his legs hit the bed, then he slowly sits and reclines backwards, careful not to drop you or break the kiss. He maintains a firm grip on your ass as you straddle him grinding your hips against his, yearning for more friction between the bulge being held back by his jeans and your throbbing pussy. 

His fingers gently graze at the bottom of your shirt, tugging it upwards. You take the hint, sitting up and removing your top effortlessly. Kuroo does the same, sitting up slightly and lifting his shirt over his head. In the dim glow of the street light from outside, you could just barely make out the dragon tattoo on that stretched from his neck down his arm. 

“Take these off.” Kuroo says, rubbing your thighs.

“What’s the magic word?” You tease. 

“Now.” He says, reaching for your neck, forcefully pulling you down to look him in the eyes. You smirk, relishing in the fact you were able to see this side of Kuroo. There was no fear within you as he tightened his grip around your throat, only more and more arousal at the sight of the great Drift King grasping for control. 

Gently, you take hold of his wrist, making him let go of your neck. After placing a small kiss on his thumb, you get up, unbuttoning your pants. Kuroo’s eyes never left you, he was hypnotized, his hand rubbing his hardened crotch. He almost looked as if he was stuck in a trance, watching you undress before him, as if you were something out of a magazine that had come to life right before his eyes. 

Reaching behind you, you unclip your bra, letting it fall to the floor, your nipples already rock hard. Kuroo lets out a small “fuck”, watching you in amazement. You turn to look at him, feeling no need to cover your nude body, no need to hide from him. You want him to see you, it turns you on watching him touch himself as he stares at you with lust in his eyes. At this moment, you wanted nothing more than to climb into that bed with him and fuck all night long. 

You take a few steps closer to him, bending down and reaching for his pants, smirking as you hear his breath catch in his throat. Kuroo moves his hands away, hoisting himself up on his elbows to watch you. After unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, he moves slightly to allow you to remove his pants — and to his surprise — his underwear as well. 

If there was a god out there, you were certain that they personally blessed Tetsurou Kuroo with a gorgeous penis. Standing perfectly erect in front of you, you stop for a moment to simply take it all in. The size, the girth, the slight lean to the left, the vein popping out in excitement, the droplets of precum gathering on the head. At just the mere sight of his cock, you felt a fire light inside of you, eager to pleasure him.  

“You just gonna sit and stare all night?” Kuroo asks sarcastically, looking down at you with a smirk. Without saying a word, you gently lick the precum off of the head, your eyes not leaving his. He gently sighs, his smirk falling as his mouth stays slightly agape. You will yourself to salivate, and in one seemingly effortless motion, you take his entire length in your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat. You gag slightly, trying your hardest to relax your throat to keep his dick in your mouth. Kuroo’s head falls back in pleasure, and a beautiful moan escapes his lips. 

“Goddamn, princess.” Kuroo says, lazily picking his head up to look you in your eyes. Once again maintaining eye contact, you slowly withdraw his dick from your mouth, allowing your drool to dribble from your mouth onto his penis. Kuroo’s chest continued to rise and fall heavily, watching your every move. Licking one long stripe along the vein of his penis, you once again take him in your mouth, this time creating a rhythm, your head bobbing up and down as your hand strokes the length that you couldn’t fit, letting your spit lubricate his cock. 

You begin to lose yourself in the moment, allowing yourself to close your eyes and bask in the sound of Kuroo’s soft groans as you pleasure him. 

“Come here.” Kuroo says, breaking your concentration. You slowly take his length out of your mouth, leaving it wet with your saliva. Kuroo reaches for your thighs, pulling you upwards to look you straight into your eyes as you hover over him, his wet length hitting your inner thigh.

“Sit on my face.” Kuroo commands roughly, hands wandering up and down your legs and ass, his fingers gently brushing the lips of your vagina. You shiver at the small contact made, ready for more. After planting a short kiss on Kuroo’s lips, you let him guide you until your pussy is just barely hovering over his lips, his hands securely gripping your thighs, your bare tits practically glowing in the dim light streaming in from the empty street. You felt so defenseless, exposing yourself as Kuroo stared up at your naked body, you both knew he was strong enough to hold you down against his mouth if he wanted to. 

Slowly, tentatively, you lower yourself down, your heart pounding out of your chest in excitement. Without missing a beat, Kuroo’s large hands tighten their grip on your thighs, holding you steady as his tongue furiously licks your pussy, practically making you double over in ecstasy. 

Your moans and whimpers of pleasure echo through the room, and Kuroo takes this as a signal to quicken his pace, his tongue licking fast strokes against your clit and dipping slightly into your hole. His pace continued getting faster and faster, tongue alternating between circling your clit and deeply thrusting into your hole. You were certain he was leaving bruises on your thighs, trying to keep you still against his devilish mouth. Gripping tightly onto his hair, you feel yourself beginning to come undone on top of him, your walls tightening as you grind your hips against Kuroo’s face, his nose nudging against your clit, the pace never slowing down. You weren’t 100% sure he could breathe, but you didn’t really care. All that mattered to you was reaching your climax with Kuroo’s face buried in your pussy. 

“Kuroo!” You moan out, pulling his hair a little harder as you feel your walls pounding as you hit your peak, struggling screams escaping your mouth as Kuroo continues gently lapping at your clit as you cum. It took everything in you just to stay upright, the intensity of Kuroo’s mouth never letting up even as you came. You ride out your high on Kuroo’s face, slowly releasing your grip on his head as he takes his hands off your thighs. 

As you continue to try to catch your breath, you lift yourself up, giving Kuroo room to breathe. He breathes deeply as well, looking up at you with a smirk. 

“You sound cute when you scream my name.” He says smugly, rubbing your thigh. You roll your eyes, your cheeks burning. Shifting backwards, you widen your stance to straddle his waist again, the tip of his penis just barely grazing the lips of your drenched pussy. 

“And I like you better when you’re quiet.” You say, just barely louder than a whisper. Your face was once again centimeters away from his, and his lips were still glistening with your cum. Without hesitation Kuroo’s lips meet yours, sloppy, wet kisses being swapped between the two of you as your hand takes hold of his dick, lining it up with your entrance. 

You watch as Kuroo pulls away from the kiss, his face contorting in satisfaction as you sink into him. You sigh, closing your eyes as his length slowly starts filling you up. There was only a little resistance, your walls having to stretch to adjust to his size. But even so, he felt so comfortable inside of you. It felt as if the two of you were made for one another. 

You feel your eyes roll back as you shift your hips, his dick twitching slightly inside of you. Kuroo’s hands gripped onto your ass deeply, urging you to move, to create some sort of friction. With the support of his hands, you move your hips upwards, then downwards, up, down, up, down, two bodies moving almost perfectly in sync as the room filled with the sounds of Kuroo’s moans and your screams. 

The two of you kept a rhythmic pace to maintain the high you were both building, his hands guiding your hips as you steadily let your body rise and fall against his. Fireworks exploded at your core every time your hips collided with his, the head of his dick ramming against your cervix. 

After some time you slow down, your legs were getting more and more tired as you rocked against him. Kuroo senses your exhaustion and effortlessly flips you over onto your back, getting on top of you. Lining up his rock hard cock at your entrance, he looks down at you with a malicious grin. 

“So desperate for my dick, huh princess?” Kuroo teases, letting the head of his penis rub along your soaking wet pussy, your walls clenching every time it barely grazes your clit.  

“Just get inside me already.” You demand, your body aching for more. You were so close to reaching your second high, and you were more than ready to keep going all night if Kuroo wanted to. 

“What’s the magic word?” Kuroo says, using your words from earlier against you. He slowly lowers himself until his lips graze your hardened nipple. The tip of his dick continues to rub against you, making your pussy throb. Kuroo flicks your nipple with his tongue, before taking it between his teeth and nibbling softly, causing you to yelp at the sudden contact. Kuroo moves away from your nipple, sucking hard on the soft tissue of your breasts, leaving hickeys scattered across your chest. 

“Please fuck me Kuroo!” You beg, unable to take any more stimulation. You feel Kuroo chuckle against your skin, right before he finally lets his tip enter you. He pushes into you at a painstakingly slow rate, making you groan in anticipation, shutting your eyes tightly. Kuroo always left you yearning for more, lusting for his touch. 

Kuroo moves his head upwards, nestling his face into your neck as he gradually increases his pace. He leaves small kisses along your neck, taking your ear lobe between his teeth and tugging on it, making your eyes roll back as you let out a loud moan. You shift underneath him, bucking your hips upwards as you wrap your legs around his waist. Kuroo groans into your neck, letting his head rest against your shoulder as he continues to pound into you, leaving shockwaves running through your body with every thrust. 

“Kuroo, please make me cum.” You moan out, tangling your hands in his hair. Kuroo quickly pushes himself upward, hoisting your legs up and using his thighs to keep your hips suspended in the air, his dick still deep in you. Kuroo smirks as he sees your eyes roll back in pleasure, your hands grasping at the sheets around you, your breasts bouncing with every thrust. His smirk only grows wider as he begins rubbing small circles on your clit with his thumb, causing you to scream so loud you were certain everyone in the neighborhood could hear you. 

With this added stimulation, you felt yourself getting closer to your climax much faster, the pressure building up in your pussy as Kuroo continues fucking you from this new angle. Without any warning, you feel your walls clenching like a vice around Kuroo’s dick, causing Kuroo to take his thumb off of your clit so his hands could grab your waist, keeping you still as you cum all over him. 

Your climax is only further intensified by Kuroo continuing to pound into your tight cunt, aching for his own release. The feeling of your vaginal walls spasming around his cock was more than enough for him, but getting to see you scream in pleasure as he sends you over the edge is what really did it for him. To him, there was no better sight than seeing his princess cum. 

It didn’t take long until Kuroo let out a throaty groan, his grip on your hips tightening as he fucks you even harder. 

“Cum inside of me.” You barely make out, your body overrun with satisfaction. Kuroo leans down once more, pinning your hands over your head as you wrap your legs around him. Looking deeply into his eyes, you watch as his face contorts in ecstasy, his forehead dropping against yours. You feel his cock twitch inside of you, and you feel your cunt fill up with Kuroo’s hot cum. 

After a last few sloppy thrusts, Kuroo pulls out of you, leaving you lying on the bed breathless, your chest rising and falling as you try to gain your composure. Your pussy was practically bursting with liquids, both yours and his. Kuroo briskly walks over to the bathroom, and you hear some shuffling and the sink running. Kuroo returns with a wet washcloth, kneeling in front of your soaking wet vagina and tenderly wiping up any cum that was on you. 

“Such a gentleman.” You comment, looking down at Kuroo as he concentrates on cleaning you up. He looks up at you, smiling when he realizes you were watching him. 

“Only the best for my girl.” He says, getting up and wiping his dick off with the rag. You move to lay on your side, feeling more than content with the events that just occurred. Kuroo lays next to you, looking into your eyes. 

“My girl?” You repeat back at him, squinting your eyes skeptically. Kuroo rolls his eyes, throwing his arm around your waist and pulling you next to him.

“I’m yours. You’re mine. That’s the deal.” He says, winking at you. 

“Since when am I yours?” You ask teasingly, knowing damn well that there was no arguing that you and Kuroo belonged to one another. 

“Since you screamed my name so loud the entire neighborhood heard you.” Kuroo says, smirking. “The hickeys speak for themselves too. They’re like a personal tag.” 

“Shut up.” You say, rolling your eyes at his lewd comments. You couldn’t hide the smile on your face as you thought about the idea of being Kuroo’s. “I’m yours.” You whisper, inching your face closer to Kuroo’s.

“You’re mine.” Kuroo responds back, placing a loving kiss on your lips. There wasn’t any lust, any heat in this kiss, which was a drastic change from the absolutely filthy deeds the two of you were just committing. It was a simple kiss, sealing the deal the two of you made. 

“Round two after dinner?” Kuroo asks jokingly, pulling away from your kiss. You laugh, resting your forehead against his, lazily nodding at the proposal of more sex. 

Alone with Kuroo in that tiny little safehouse, you felt more at home than you had felt in years. Maybe it was the intensity of everything that happened that night, maybe it was the sense of belonging you felt as you laid in Kuroo’s arms, maybe it was the way your heart fluttered every time you heard Kuroo say “I’m yours”. Perhaps it was all of it, all of these emotions and sensations coming together, a light in the middle of the darkest storm that raged on around you, right outside the walls of this apartment. That storm wasn’t going to stop, and you and Kuroo were fully aware of the dangers that lurked around the corner for the both of you. But maybe the comfort the two of you found in one another was more than just a shelter from the impending storm. A solemn promise that regardless of the future that lay ahead, there was one constant that would remain true — he is yours, and you are his. 

[yellowocaballero]

Web!Jon Roleplays Canon!Jon: With Mixed Results?

I wrote this a while ago and now that Sucker’s Bet is finally finished I can post it! Yay! This takes place an indeterminate amount of time after the end of Sucker’s Bet. The exact opposite thing happened with this story that usually happens: I had a very depressing idea and then I was REALLY METICULOUS to make sure it was fluffy. What’s fluffier than healthy discussions about boundaries, needs, and consent?

CW for some unnegotiated roleplay stuff? The same topics that were hit in Sucker’s Bet are hit here. Suggestion of future sexual activity/language but no follow-up. 

“Do it! Do it! Do it!” Sasha chanted, thumping her glass on the table and cheering uproariously. “Do it! Do it!”

Tim laughed drunkenly, slapping the table too. “Double dog dare you! Do it! Do it!”

Good lord, this was like secondary. Jon rolled his eyes, hiding himself behind his cider. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Martin.

Sasha: thought it would be funny, scientific curiosity. She wanted to see some magic, and Jon was a magician. Little more than a pub bet.

Tim: similarly, morbid curiosity.  Had more complicated feelings about the whole thing, but that was partly why he was doing it: make everything normal, settle in, stop awkwardly hiding parts of us from each other. Thought that this would help them make friends, also a pub bet.

Martin…

They probably wouldn’t have asked if they weren’t drunk as hell.

Or maybe they would have. Jon was silently hoping that Tim and Sasha would become more comfortable with him. He had a lot of tricks and methods to make them more comfortable with him, but he had decided very firmly to relax. If Tim and Sasha didn’t like him...well, he had already done possibly the douchiest thing possible to them, and they hung out with him anyway, so their expectations were probably on the floor.

Granted, that was mostly in Martin contexts. He rarely hung out with them alone. They were probably only putting up with him because he was Jon’s boyfriend. Jon knew how it was, and frequently exploited it: you think you’re part of his group until you realize he’s terrible and break up with him, and then suddenly you have no friends, so you never get around to breaking up with him and you’re never happy and you never find someone you’re happy with. 

Martin assured him frequently that they liked him. He suggested that Jon ask them, which he may have gotten from a CBT workbook that he surreptitiously read, but Jon was well aware how that put people in an awkward position. If they didn’t like you, what would they do - tell you?

Well. Tim would. Yeah, Tim would. This was why Tim was trustworthy and a good person. Jon loved people who were incapable of lying, it was like watching zoo animals through binoculars. 

They wouldn’t have asked if they weren’t drunk as hell. But they were drunk as hell, and there was nothing better than pub tricks. 

“What I don’t understand,” Tim said, in that kind of dancing lilting way that only the half-drunk were capable of, “is how you convinced everyone that you knew how to do that job when you, like, don’t read anything more complicated than fashion magazines.”

“I knew he couldn’t do the job,” Sasha said furiously, draining her gin and tonic. “I knew it, but did anybody listen?”

“We all knew, honey.”

Jon shrugged, adjusting his long linen shirt that hugged his torso flatteringly. Honestly, if Jon had been born a woman he would have been too powerful. “That one involved a little bit of spider powers,” he admitted. “But not much. I didn’t do much other than record statements. Telling Sasha that we ‘appreciate her initiative’, but, like, grudgingly, meant that she actually did most of the work.”

Sasha’s jaw dropped in indignation. “I did most of the - shit, I did! I did all of the archiving stuff, didn’t I?”

“I just looked really hurried and spent a lot of time in my office,” Jon said apologetically. “If you always sound stressed then people just assume that you’re doing things. I was really chatting up people on Tinder most of the time.”

“I was not paid enough,” Sasha grumbled, leaning back in her seat. 

“You keep making yourself out to be lazy,” Martin said mildly. He wasn’t drinking, designated as the sober one of the group tonight. “But you were using that downtime to do other work for your other job.”

Jon himself had a drink or two and he was pleasantly light headed - not drunk, but tipsy enough to feel confident and to shut up all of the annoying anxious voices in his head. It was refreshing, and felt very good. That being said, when Jon was fourteen and Gerry sixteen Agnes sat them with a twenty slide powerpoint presentation on how drinking culture in the UK facilitated alcoholism without recognition of it, so these are things you should never do while drinking and this is how to prevent binge drinking and unhealthy drinking habits. Jon didn’t always listen - alcohol was God’s solution for anxiety - but he tried. Agnes also tried that with Annabelle, but she just hissed at her and downed an entire energy drink at once while staring her in the eyes. They figured Annabelle wasn’t at risk. 

“I still don’t believe you,” Tim said imperiously, slamming his pint on the table and making his beer slosh. “If you did the whole schtick now, it would come off so fake.”

“Definitely. I never fall for the same thing twice,” Sasha bragged. “It would obviously still be Jon - what, Hawthorne? Jon Hawthorne. Or was it Hastings…”

“Hawthorne today,” Jon said politely. But he just shrugged, leaning back in his own seat and sipping delicately at his hard cider. “I can guarantee that, if I pulled out that persona again, nobody at this table would be able to see through it.” At Martin’s surly look, Jon appended, “Maybe Martin would.” Everybody shot him slightly incredulous looks, and he sighed. “I promise I’m good at my job! I’m only...transparent when I’m socializing outside of a persona. You all caught me at a weird time in my life.” He shuddered. “Vacations. Never again.”

“The problem with all of that was vacations,” Martin said flatly. 

“Do it! Do it! Do it!” Sasha chanted, thumping her glass on the table and cheering uproariously. “Do it! Do it!”

Tim laughed drunkenly, slapping the table too. “Double dog dare you! Do it! Do it!”

Good lord, this was like secondary. Jon rolled his eyes, hiding himself behind his cider. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Martin. 

Sasha: thought it would be funny, scientific curiosity. She wanted to see some magic, and Jon was a magician. Little more than a pub bet. 

Tim: similarly, morbid curiosity.  Had more complicated feelings about the whole thing, but that was partly why he was doing it: make everything normal, settle in, stop awkwardly hiding parts of us from each other. Thought that this would help them make friends, also a pub bet. 

Martin…

In Martin, Jon saw the same thing that he had always seen. Even stronger, today, than ever. For a month, back then, it had been little more than intrusive thoughts and some light, bored mental meandering. For two, three, months, it had grown deeper and deeper, so thoroughly that it was a surprise. Jon had done a very good job with him. Granted, he had just meant to flirt to keep him complacent, not to end up...doing all of that, and going through all of this, and ending up here. That had never quite been in the plan. 

Martin thought that this roleplay would he really fucking hot. Which, ultimately, swayed Jon: he liked it when Martin thought he was hot. It wasn’t hard, but somehow it meant much more to him than it did from anybody else. It was very strange: that something so easily attained was treasured so highly. Deeply nonsensical. 

“I’m not doing it,” Jon said firmly, and both Tim and Sasha groaned. “It’s not a party trick, guys. Martin, can you scooch? I need the loo.”

Jon, of course, took a slightly meandering approach to the loo. He ditched his pea coat and scarf at the table hidden underneath the tablecloth just out of sight. He fetched a pair of abandoned glasses left on a pub (their owner was annoying a woman), grabbed an abandoned blazer off the back of a chair (its owner was almost passed out drunk, Jon could give it back before the end of the night). He slipped into the bathroom and added his new accessories, taking care to tuck his shirt in. He slipped a hairband from his wrist and quickly did his hair up in a messy bun - he really did need a lot of gel and some combs to get it in his bun normally, but he’d do the best with what he had. Jon glanced in the mirror, looking himself over and fixing his bun as best as he could. He took a deep breath, then two. 

There was always that moment: when Jon slid into it. It felt like skidding on ice, thrust someplace else. Or like an exhale, centering himself as his molecules rearranged. It was a thrilling feeling, often accompanied by a heady thrill or adrenaline. 

No matter how many times he did this, it was still fun. Jon loved it. He really, really loved winning. And Jon always won. 

When Jon walked back to the table, his posture was uncomfortably stiff yet visibly hunched over. Look proud and professional, but deeply feel uncomfortable with the noise and sound and clamor of the pub. Anxious and socially awkward, but trying to hide it - that was familiar. 

Jon halted at the table, where Tim was already telling Martin about a snowboarding accident. They stopped short when they saw him, one hand worrying at his blazer as he scowled at them. “Martin, will you move over? I can’t get to my seat.”

“Uh,” Martin said intelligently. 

“Any day now,” Jon said frostily. 

Martin quickly got up and let Jon slide in. Jon, who had been sitting pressed up against Martin’s side, took care to slide much further away so he was more hovering at the edges of the group -  not enough that it was awkward, but definitely a bit to the right of Sasha directly ahead of him. He avoided eye contact with everybody, picking up his drink and sniffing it suspiciously. The accent was the easiest part of it, the only wrinkle carefully making it almost perceivably fake. 

“Holy shit,” Tim said loudly, voice rising in incredulity, “you actually did it?”

“Did what?” Jon asked. He carefully took a sip of the drink, before grimacing in distaste. “Absolutely vile…” 

“You did the thing,” Sasha said, so excited she was almost bouncing up and down. “You’re doing the thing, holy shit! That was such a Jon face!”

“Er. If you say so.” Jon busied himself with the drink again, obviously pantomiming sipping as he fiddled with the arm of the blazer. Under his breath, yet very audibly, he muttered, “What a waste of time…”

“Man, this is like, what, LARPing?” Tim batted at Sasha’s arm, looking excited. “I’ll play along. Remember we used to do this together?” 

They had. Jon had to pretend that he was unbearably awkward about the whole thing, yet secretly excited to be invited. In reality, pubs were such a cornerstone of Jon’s existence he found them dull as bricks, but it had been fun to channel someone terrified of too many people in a room. 

Sasha’s chin was propped on her hand, giggling. “What’s your organization system for the files, huh, Jon? What’s your organization system? How are you sorting the documents?”

“Tim told me that you don’t talk about work at pubs,” Jon said defensively. “He said you talk about - what was it -” He looked at Tim planatively, obviously lost. “Hobbies? You talk about hobbies?”

“How do you organize the files, Jonathan?”

“Yes, Boss, hobbies,” Tim said faux-sympathetically. He put a hand on his heart, pulling a face. “You gotta have hobbies, right? Shopping, haircare, stealing money, getting fake married?”

“That’s all for his job,” Martin muttered. 

“I have hobbies,” Jon said defensively. He adopted an expression of panicked thought, groping for something. “I like...television.” 

“What television, Jonathan,” Sasha said flatly. 

Jon pretended to sweat. “Television shows?”

“Unrealistic!” Tim slapped the table. “Everyone at least knows a telly show, no matter how much of a nerd they are. Fakey Jon Sims.”

“I do!” Jon protested. “I - well, not recently, but - documentaries count. I watch documentaries. I was watching this fascinating one about the Jonestown Massacre, and the intriguing series of events the lead into the mass death -”

Then he was off, shifting into his confidence when infodumping. Confidence because he was so wrapped up in the joy of sharing information he forgot that it kind of included dominating the conversation, and he watched with satisfaction as everybody’s eyes started glazing over. Everybody except Martin, who was scrolling through his phone looking disinterested. 

Looking. His cheeks were a little flushed. Jon patted himself on the back. 

“I’m sorry,” Jon said, cutting himself off, “am I boring you, Martin?”

But Martin didn’t even look up. “I’m not participating in this.”

“Aw, come on,” Tim wheedled. “Look, he’s even doing the Mah-tin thing. You always started fanning yourself whenever he did that.”

Sasha was, very drunkenly, taking notes. “It’s uncanny. Like a dead person brought back to life and annoying you.”

“Are we really making this entire outing about Martin?” Jon asked, pretending irritation. Play into it. Bloke wouldn’t admit it, but there was a reason he had liked Jon back then. It wasn’t for his sparkling personality, beyond the little flashes of something more tender underneath. Have your cake and eat it too. “You said that this would be fun, Tim.”

Tim just laughed. “Aw, Martin’s not fun?”

“I never said that,” Jon said stiffly. He glanced at Martin out of the corner of his eye, clearly working himself up to say something. When he spoke, the words were almost forced out. “What..are you playing?”

“Sincerely buzz off,” Martin said flatly.

Jon couldn’t help it - his cheeks genuinely burned. He looked away, careful to keep an expression on his face as if he was examining the molding because Martin had said something socially awkward, but hot shame flared in his chest. 

He made it seem as if he downed his drink. “Excuse me, I’m...getting us more drinks.”

Jon made a show of slightly stumbling as he made his way to the bar. Martin had given him the permission to extort drinks out of people through flirting and judicious eye-batting - guy was very strictly monogamous but also practical - and in barely a few minutes he had enough collected for their table. He carefully walked them all back, settling them on the table, and waited for both Tim and Sasha to grab their drinks and start enthusiastically downing them. 

He wanted to drop it, ask Martin if he made him uncomfortable, reassure him. But that would ruin the momentum of this, the steam train picking up speed, and it was impossible for Jon to miss the dual things that Martin was feeling.

Super turned on. Also very uncomfortable. Jon decided that he was uncomfortable because he found it attractive, and he was dealing with some guilt over that. 

It would be fun to reassure him, but Jon had the sense that he wouldn’t like him to do it in public. 

Soon afterwards, with a little more friendly yet understated performance from Jon and uproarious laughter from Tim and Sasha, Sasha’s head had begun dropping onto the table more frequently than not and Tim decided that it was time to take her home. More accurately, Jon knew, to Tim’s place, as it was closer. He’d drop her on the couch, he’d slide into his own bed, and he’d think about a different situation. She’d wake up in the morning, eyes squinting against the harsh sun, and hope for a moment - but no, the couch again. Neither were willing to bridge the gap. 

Jon and Martin stumbled out too. Jon had been intending on spending the night at Martin’s place - Jon loved cuddling, it was his favorite thing - and Jon made a show of acting slightly drunker than he was as Martin thoughtfully kept a hand on his back. He stumbled out the door, gripping Martin’s coat and giggling. He had strategically returned the blazer back to the guy, and Martin had his other clothing draped over his arm. 

“And, in my opinion,” Jon stated decisively as he swayed, “as part of our anti-colonialist efforts we should give Ireland back to the Irish -”

“You can drop it,” Martin said, gently guiding him towards the tube station. They still had an hour before the last trains ran. “Seriously.”

Jon giggled, before slightly bending down to whisper in Jon’s ear. He kept the accent, the inflections, everything. “But you really find it hot.”

Martin sputtered as Jon laughed uproariously - not his laugh, the Archivist’s laugh - and they teetered towards home. 

On the tube Jon kept a hand on Martin’s thigh, and Martin kept glancing and glancing towards him, and Jon would shoot him a prissy look as his hand wandered up his thigh, and Martin would get redder and redder. 

When Martin unlocked his flat door it took several times, with his hand shaking slightly, and Jon hid a smirk behind a hand. On some level, he was always roleplaying when he did these kinds of things, but with Martin it was usually so authentic that this was positively novel. Jon’s mind was already furiously churning as he set up the scene - yes, that would be exactly right, this would be fun -

Jon stumbled inside after Martin, who was already taking off his coat and hanging it on the peg. He put Jon’s coat up too, glancing at Jon out of the corner of his eye. 

The Archivist wouldn’t really notice something like that, so he didn’t either. “Lord, Martin, your flat’s as messy as your desk.”

Martin still looked a little pained, even as his cheeks were quite red. “Yeah, ha ha. My desk wasn’t that bad, you were just being picky.”

“Yes, I suppose I must apologize for that.” Jon drew himself up to his full height, stepping close to Martin - closer than the Archivist ever had. “Martin, I’m afraid - well, I have a confession.”

“Oh, boy,” Martin said. 

“Don’t get snippy with me,” Jon said prissily. But he leaned in, keeping his expression just on the faintest edge of innocently scared. “I never wanted to admit this. It was just so inappropriate, what with me being your boss and all. I always - well, I always knew how you felt about me. It was...charming.”

Obviously involuntarily, Martin squeaked a bit. Adorable. 

Jon reached out and put a hand on the back of his neck, leaning in. “Truth be told, I was looking at you too. I was just embarrassed. I didn’t like admitting it. But I couldn’t help thinking about it.” That was, obviously, how Martin’s fantasies had always worked. Not realistic, but realism wasn’t the point of your absent daydreams during a boring workday. “But I’m tired of hiding it. I really want you, Martin. I always have. I want you to bend me over my desk and -”

“Shut it off, Jon!”

Jon shut it off. They had agreed on the phrase ages ago, the very solid cue to drop all of Jon’s shit. Jon regularly kept up the shit just because he found it entertaining, and oftentimes comforting, but Martin sometimes found it unbelievably obtrusive when he was trying to have a serious conversation. It was difficult - Jon got panicked during serious conversations, so he usually defensively threw his shit back up again, and it was a self-perpetuating cycle that had frustrated and upset the both of them until they had sat down and talked about it. If Jon couldn’t keep up the conversation without lying, then they both walked away and came back to it later. It was work. But it was good work, the kind that allowed for the good stuff to flourish. Uncomfortable, messy, and real - but maybe that was what Jon liked about it. 

“Sorry,” Jon said. He straightened, letting every expression drop away until he was back at his favored neutral. He knew that Martin found it unsettlingly blank, but he rarely complained. “Did I go too far with the desk thing?”

Martin just stood there, carefully controlling his breathing. Jon waited, letting Martin pick through his thoughts and try to shape them. It was probably more difficult than usual, considering how well Jon had been striking the right notes, so he gave him some time.

Finally, Martin said, “I get having fun with Sasha and Tim. I get us doing roleplay, privately, together. I get you doing a role for your job. But the Archivist gig has a lot of baggage with it, for all of us. Do you understand why I feel weird about you pulling that into bedroom stuff?”

“We watch TV in your bedroom,” Jon pointed out. At Martin’s flat, unamused look, Jon had to fight the urge to shuffle his feet. “I sincerely don’t understand your reaction. I’ve seen your search history -”

“Jon!”

“Research for before we got together, don’t think anything of it,” Jon said quickly. “But doesn’t that make it better? It’s not often somebody gets everything they want from somebody unattainable. Or, you know, not real, but…”

“Jon, for a mind reader you can be terrible at picking up cues sometimes,” Martin said, exasperated. “I know your reasons for doing stuff like this -”

“I’m fantastic at picking up cues,” Jon corrected, oddly huffy. “Because I always know what people want. Their desires, even if they don’t like admitting it to themselves. Do you have any idea how many people on this Earth are bisexual but won’t admit it?”

But, somehow, that just made Martin’s eyes widen a little, as if a realization had cracked. “It cannot be comfortable knowing how many people are attracted to you when you’re sex-repulsed.”

“It’s fine,” Jon lied. “I like it.”

“Jon.”

“Whatever. I got used to it.” Jon shrugged. “I like it when you like me. You’re my boyfriend. I want to make you happy because I like seeing you happy. That’s my ulterior motive.”

Martin sighed again, but thankfully he didn’t look as stressed anymore. Win. He broke away from Jon, instead dropping heavily onto the couch, and Jon hesitantly sat down next to him. His costume abruptly felt stifling, and when he saw Martin’s eyes linger on the bun he undid it and untucked his shirt. God, his hair was a wreck. 

“The Archivist has baggage for me,” Martin said quietly. “I know how I feel, and I try not to be embarrassed over stuff that most people go through and feel. Had enough of that internalized homophobia for a lifetime. I...can’t avoid you knowing how I feel, or what I’m thinking. I know you can try not to look, but you can’t completely control it either. I understand all of this. But you knowing what I want isn’t the same as me asking for it. Do you understand that difference?”

Jon shrugged uncomfortably. 

“Jon. Do you get that I felt uncomfortable because what you did was unnegotiated and you didn’t ask my permission?”

The feeling of embarrassment and guilt spiked higher, and Jon looked away and stared fixedly at some admittedly quite pretty art on the wall. “You’re making it sound bad.”

“I should have shut that down earlier. That’s my bad. You should have stopped to ask. Your bad. We’re both at fault, so we shouldn’t be mad at each other. Are we all good on that?”

Jon stayed silent for a little bit, staring at the wall, trying his best to assemble his own thoughts in his brain. He wasn’t smart. He had problems assembling the words for the complex and large and overwhelming feelings he felt so often. How was Martin so good at breaking this down and putting it into words, when Jon could barely even express how he felt?

Well, Martin probably had more practice…

“You’re so frustrating,” Jon whispered. “You don’t like asking for what you want. You do make me guess. You’re embarrassed to say any of it - the things you want me to do, or the things you like. You do want me to read your mind, because everybody wants a mind reader in their relationship. Especially when it comes to sexual things. But what I can’t read is the...choices you make. Just what you want. And you always make a choice that’s contrary to what you want, and I can never guess. So I do what you want, which is always the exact opposite of what you want me to actually do, and…”

After a second of silence, Martin said, “I need to work on that. I have to be more vocal too. But, Jon, nowhere in that did you mention what you want.”

Jon turned back to look at him, and saw that Martin’s expression was creased. With a mix of - sadness, frustration, conviction, dedication. Imagine being that dedicated, about anything. “Nothing about me minded this time,” Jon said, flabbergasted. “I liked it. I like playing, I like making you feel good, I like winning.” Martin opened his mouth, and Jon quickly said, “Don’t pretend that socialization isn’t a game that everyone is always trying to win, you liar.”

Martin shut his mouth. He could not deny it. Finally, he said, “I hate how you have to say this time.”

He couldn’t help it - he cringed, very hard. Terrible memory. Terrible, terrible, terrible - “I don’t want you to touch me the rest of tonight,” he said, in one rushed breath. Georgie told him to say it. Georgie, Melanie, and Martin. He was supposed to say this. 

“Of course, no problem,” Martin said, quickly yet calmly. “Was there anything in that I shouldn’t bring up again?”

“That never happened,” Jon said, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest. “Stop bringing it up, it’s over, I’m fine - I’m going to bed!”

Hilariously, it was Martin’s flat, but Jon needed to dramatically retreat, so he ended up claiming Martin’s bed for his own. He was very aware that Martin would grab the couch for tonight, because Jon had asked him to. So he was left shoving himself into the pyjamas that he left at Martin’s, wrapping his hair, and sliding under the covers. 

But he wasn’t really tired. Jon’s mind kept churning and churning, trying desperately to tease out his own feelings, before realizing that he really didn’t want to know.

It was a really good conversation. Jon was glad that they had it - that Martin hadn’t gone along with it if he wasn’t comfortable, that he had actually pointed out where Jon crossed a line. Nothing about it was bad. Everything was a work in progress - Jon and Martin most of all. 

So much of them clashed. So much of them cared about each other more than the clashing. They ran up against these things incessantly, and Jon felt as if they worked it out every time. 

He would definitely make Martin breakfast tomorrow. Lots of bacon, although Jon never ate the stuff. He would have to clarify that the way this ended - it wasn’t Martin’s fault, not really. He would probably also have to clarify that his random terror wasn’t something that was any of Martin’s business. He was the one person Jon didn’t want to talk it over with, actually. 

Martin respected Jon a lot. More than Jon thought was rational, considering...himself. He never vocalized what exactly he wanted, because he respected that it was never in consideration. Jon had even seen him want it less and less - it barely even came up anymore. Except, of course, when Jon teased on purpose…

When Jon teased on purpose and didn’t tell Martin that he didn’t want something so then he made himself -

It was a good conversation, except Jon ruined it because something stupid that didn’t mean anything at all sent him into abject shame and terror.

This was so hard. Jon hated thinking this much. He decided to fall asleep instead. Much simpler.

In dreams, where everything was an illusion and nothing meant anything at all, nobody minded that none of it was real. 

*

Tim: omfg im so fucking hungoverrrr I hate being 34

Tim: good time last night tho

Tim: also like it WAS funny but you know we like you best as you, rite? U normally dont so Ill validate: liking you best as you, always

*

Sasha: THE DOCUMENTS, JON!!! 

Sasha: Tim says you might have gotten the wrong impression from last night so I’ll also validate: all of you is good. Even the bad parts are good. Does that make sense?

Sasha: Tim said that that sounded ‘backhanded’ but you know what I mean

Sasha: Man why is it so hard to just say what I mean!!! 

Sasha: Life’s stupid. Tell Martin I said hi. 

[nordic-language-love]

Language Learning Log 2021 - Week 28 (12.07 - 18.07)

Norwegian

Read 3x Harry Potter og Mysteriekammeret chapters

Listened to the radio

Listened to 1x Siri og de gode hjelperne episode

Watched 3x Kveldsnytt broadcasts

Italki lessons (1h 45 mins)

Spanish

Collins Spanish Grammar & Practice: Adjectives exercises 9-20

Spanish Tutor: Unit 3 exercises C-O, Unit 4 exercises A-O, Unit 5 exercises A-R

Listened to 3x Hoy Hablamos episodes

Listened to 2x Lost in Barcelona episodes

Watched 1x Dreaming Spanish video

Read 1x article (read aloud)

Watched 2x SKAM España episodes

Japanese

Duolingo: Hiragana 1, Intro 2, Counting, Time

Summary

All in all, a fairly mixed week. I’m feeling burned out and depressed and anxious and I feel like I have nowhere to turn to and I’m not about to bother anyone with my own stupid non-problems. But then, I’ve been feeling that way for months, so I guess I’m gonna just keep pushing on through and hoping that things will change soon. I have my italki pre-approval meeting on Wednesday and then I finally get to start teaching. I’m terrified, but hopefully having something extra to do and keep my brain occupied will help (it’s a risk though because if I get even 1 not-so-great review my confidence will probably be ruined, but I have nothing else going for me so I guess it’s worth a shot). A change is as good as a rest, right?

Norwegian

I tried out a new italki tutor this week and she was lovely! We had such a nice relaxed conversation :) She said to me she wasn’t sure what exactly I wanted to learn from her because I speak so well and she didn’t have to correct me at all haha. So next time I’ll come armed with some more advanced topics to discuss instead of just making small talk about familiar topics (performance arts, cats and the pandemic mostly).

I’m still not sure what to do in regards to tutors... I’ve been using two different ones and the original plan was to alternate weekly. Unfortunately because I have Problems, that ended up being two lessons a week. But now I feel like shaking it up and trying out different tutors but I still like the ones I have? And I’d feel sad if I ditch them (even though one of them is always rescheduling and honestly I’m kinda sick of it lol). But also I want to cut down to one session a week again (that makes me sound like an addict which tbf isn’t necessarily inaccurate) and if I’m trying out different tutors then I won’t be able to keep up lessons with my current tutors.

I’ll think about it.

Spanish

I can feel myself getting burned out with this intense Spanish already lmao. I guess because I’m just trying to get my grammar back up to speed and refreshing vocabulary. Also, I’m mostly using textbooks and the immersion I’m doing is quite difficult so I can’t just relax and enjoy it. I need to find something fun to get into! I started watching SKAM España in an attempt to do just that, but I don’t really understand much without English subtitles. Still, it’s something. And I enjoyed Dreaming Spanish and didn’t find that too hard, so I’ll try watching more of that this week.

I’m still considering italki lessons. Once I’m back up to speed on a few more verb tenses I probably will (right now I’m aware of them and roughly how to form them/use them but they need refreshing for sure). I’ve had a look at some tutors and there’s a few that look nice and aren’t too pricey. Although I’ve gotta say, I wish more of them would tell me about themselves and their classes in their bio/intro video. They basically all just list their qualifications and it’s. so boring? Like congratulations you’re qualified so is every other professional teacher on this website that’s literally what professional teacher means. I wanna know if you’re someone I can vibe with, y’know?

Japanese

Again, I’ve just been working with Duolingo refreshing certain skills. And once again, I’m realising that things that once made no sense at all now click and I can recognise a lot of kanji that I previously struggled with. It’s actually inspiring me to get back to it properly because I can see how much progress I’ve actually made. But it’s probably a good thing to go over and strengthen my foundations right now.

[ghostbustermelanieking]

oddly specific memories i have of listening to tma

in honor of the finale, and because i am a sentimental asshole, i bring you this potentially uninteresting and completely pointless list. i'm gonna miss this show a lot

half my original reasoning for listening to the podcast was to motivate me to walk on the treadmill. this did not work. but i did it the first time, when i was going through the trailers and anglerfish, and i remember the room where my dad keeps the treadmill is really dark and the spooky chanting sort of freaked me out

after the treadmill, i ended up listening to the bulk of the first four episodes on the couch, and halfway through i let my oldest cat, winnie, who always lived outside (i know, i was very against actually keeping her outside) in the house. and she jumped up on the couch with me, which she literally never did. (she was very grumpy and not super affectionate.) i had that cat since i was five, and she passed last june, and i really miss her. quarantine kind of gave us the opportunity to hang out with her a lot, because we were home so much. so i'm glad these memories are kind of intersected in my mind. (below: a pic i have from that day.)

my friend sarah relistened along with me the first time around, which was extraordinarily sweet of her, and also led to some interesting interactions. for example: she forgot when it was revealed that sasha was dead, so she accidentally spoiled that for me when i asked when the others would find sasha (and i spent all of season 2 just like. anxiously vibrating over this fact). she also made this post, when i was still in like early first half of season 1, and my immediate thought was "oh no martin is dead." i hadnt even MET martin at this point

back in early quarantine, my mom had this rule that we had to do something new every day (to keep away the depression... ha ha). anyways, all i wanted to do in my free time was sit around and listen to tma (and also watch this show i was into on netflix), so i came up with some lame excuses, one of which was "i'll give myself a pedicure." this led to the memory i ultimately associate with mag 56 (trevor herbert 2) being me sitting out on our roof balcony thing, giving myself a horrendous pedicure

another time, my family wanted to go play tennis, and they brought me along and brought a hammock for me to lay in. there was this excess material from the hammock, and the sun was in my eyes, so i ended up pulling it up and over me to block the sun and creating this ridiculous hammock cocoon thing. one of the episodes i listened to that day? "tucked in."

before i ever started the show, my friend sarah stayed with me while i was pet sitting. i remember when she got there, she'd just listened to 150 and was telling me how freaky it was (she was still trying to get me into the show), and she was like "of course we're staying on a CUL DE SAC." (that was also the weekend she watched us for the first time and was very upset because i slept through the whole thing, which is scary when you're staying somewhere by yourselves.) anyways, i spent the whole show waiting for the scary cul de sac episode

while i was listening to the show for the first time, my step-dad (an artist) started painting an EYE on the door downstairs near my bathroom. a fucking EYE. he didn't finish it til i had finished the show. but still weird!!

i binged like 12 episodes in one day to finish season 4, which is not impressive at all, but it's still my personal record. i just remember staying up late in my dark bedroom (til like.... 11 i'm lame and i go to bed early), listening to like 158 & 159 & 160 and just being knocked on my ass by how good it all was... i was SUPER spoiled by this point, through my own fault, and i knew exactly what was coming, but actually experiencing it was nuts

the second week i listened live was 167, where the public release was delayed by a couple hours by accident. i spent like 20 minutes refreshing spotify, thinking it was broken, before going on tumblr and seeing what the deal was. (and 167 remains one of my favorites of s5 because i remember just going "thank god it was worth the wait.")

this one car ride where sarah and i made some of our friends listen to the first three episodes of the show. it was the middle of the night and we were just like blasting down i40 listening to anglerfish and do not open etc

the night the what the ghost episode publicly dropped was the night after my graduation, and i was sleeping out on the couch in the living room so my grandfather could sleep in a bed. it was super dark, and i am a jumpy person, and i Remember being mildly disgusted with myself because the corny sound effects were actually freaking me out. (i think i mightve actually seen something weird that night, maybe, but that's another story.)

the weekend my parents moved me into college, we couldn't get the cable in the house we were staying in, and we were all sitting around doing nothing, so i jokingly suggested starting tma with them, and they were like ok grace. my step-dad promptly fell asleep and my mom zoned out -- which is probably good, she doesn't like horror and she's super claustrophobic, so it's probably better we never got to do not open

my brief roommate in college talked about how she was into those youtube channels where people just read scary stories, so of course i was like try tma out. so she listened to the first episode on her own, and we were out one night, and she started mag 02 while i went into an ice cream place. she was into it (she kept being like open it, ya pussy) and wanted to keep listening while we went home, and even back in our room. i had only been in town for a couple weeks, and barely knew my way around, but i also didn't want to turn the gps on and be interrupted every five seconds. so i tried to find our way back on my own. it took the entirety of mag 03, and into mag 04, before i did it. so now i will forever associate across the street with all those wrong turns i took in a dark, semi unfamiliar city, trying to get back to our college without a gps

the day of the early drop for 179 was the day i moved back home from college -- a five hour drive by myself. i ended up listening to it on the final stretch of the trip, when i was super tired and it was dark and i knew it'd probably be a crazy episode. just me full blasting down i40, drinking an energy drink (which i never do) through a hole punched in the top, listening to daisy's death

186 early dropped the day after initial u.s. election day (when we still didn't know anything). my mom had set up a "watch party" in the living room with these giant air mattresses, and we all sort of spent the day crowded around the TV watching the numbers. not much of a memory, but i remember sitting on that air mattress and listening to martin's monologue in the midst of that messy week

i had a virtual therapy appointment on the day of 187's early drop, and my dad was home, so i drove to an empty parking lot to do the session in some privacy. i was trying to listen to the episode before the session started, so i ended up listening to the last half sitting in my car, in the pouring rain, just staring at my radio in shock (187 remains one of my favorite s5 episodes)

my friend sarah had just come home for winter break the day 189 dropped, and we decided to listen together, just like driving around in circles drinking coffee and listening and speculating on whether or not that was really martin

i started my relisten right after thanksgiving and was just kind of blowing through fast as i could through the whole of december. i had to go back to college to empty out my dorm, and i went to the beach after, and i ended up listening to mag 11 while just like walking around in circles in the tide pools. the closer it got to christmas, the more christmassy i wanted to keep things, so i would like. listen in the mornings and turn on one of those Netflix fireplaces and get all cozy

my other friend went with me on a mini bagel road trip in december, and he was still trying to get caught up, so we listened to mag 169, 170, and 171 on the drive home. (by this point, i was accustomed enough to s5 and smiting scenes to automatically reach for the volume controls when jude perry and jared hopworth died.)

when i relistened to mag 47, i was sitting with my cat beezus. i paused the episode to write this big long meta, so i was in a different headspace when i pressed play again. jon immediately yelled for sasha and i immediately jumped, and beezus gave me a searing glare and just got up and left

i relistened to piecemeal while i was cooking, which i thought was kind of funny and also disgusting

after christmas, i got into the habit of bringing my cat georgia into my room in the mornings, and she'd crawl under the covers with me while i listened to tma

one story i've always liked to tell from my first listen is how when i first listened to the meat arm grinder episode, my dad asked me to help him cook hamburgers later that day and explained how hamburgers are ground up (to my disgust). i hit meat grinder in my relisten and um. you'll never fucking guess what i made for lunch that day

so i had all these arbitrary rules for myself when i started tma last april, and i've broken like all of them. i started listening to tma while virtually working -- you just pull it up on your computer and it works. (i got the life scared out of me when one of my coworkers started talking over the podcast, wondering who it was that had walked into jon's office and why he wasn't reacting and why i didn't remember it.) i also started listening a lot while driving, which led to several long meta posts i wrote being typed up in a parking lot somewhere

i spent the entirety of 194 anxious-cuddling georgia. (i tried to do this for 198 and then didn't have any anxiety to cuddle her over.) i fully plan on doing this for 200, where i am sure i will need it again

my favorite place to listen to tma probably ended up being the roof room at my mom's, and unless something goes awry, this is where i will listen to the finale. (with georgia, of course.)

this list is super uninteresting, like i said, but here it is. i'm gonna miss this show a lot. i can't wait to return to it, later in life, and make all new listening memories in the process

[bensonsbreakdowns]

can i pls request more rudy little sister pls... i just feel like he would be the best big brother especially to a sister. maybe like him helping her through depression/anxiety or advice about relationships thank u

thank you for the request! and i will def be doing the relationship advice one as well! x

He had her to thank for the authenticity of his performance. He had gone to her about the softest of subjects and listened as she debriefed the illnesses that corrupted her common sense from time to time. A topic she was usually close minded towards. 

Stepping into the role of JJ Maybank was what he had worked for as an actor, however it left him with a heavy responsibility to authentically bring to life the struggle of an abuse victim. She had never been caught up in the web of mistreatment, however her mind was tinted with the degrading self reflections of an anxiety disorder. She walked him through the breakdowns that hit at random times, the depressive lows that struck for weeks at a time, and the hyperactive highs that caused concern. She told her about her triggers, how sometimes it was an unexpected touch, or a conversational topic; explained to him the delicacy of coping with unfortunate events. She poured herself out to him, and he had never been more appreciative of her. It hadn’t just given him a better understanding of JJ’s tendencies, but for the first time, he was truly seeing who his little sister was as her own person. She was incredibly strong minded and determined, something he never doubted but didn’t know the true extent of. 

As kids they did everything together, thick as thieves despite the nearly five year age difference. When she started breaking away from the bulk of her family, riddled with insecurities and insufferable mental anguish, he took it harder then she had when they finally had the diagnosees. Depression and anxiety had stripped him of a lively sister willing to leave the confines of their alaskan ranch in the dead of midnight to build snowmen, but he had found her again after nearly two years of her own self discovery and realignment. 

She had been in Charleston for a few weeks now, studying beneath her brother's boss who had been kind enough to extend her an internship opportunity upon hearing of her interest in film creation. She had been reluctant to take the job, knowing how hard Rudy had worked to score the role, she never wanted to undermine his efforts and so easily feed off of what he had made for himself. It had taken almost three weeks for Rudy and Jonas to convince her to fly down to South Carolina after her last day of school, and spend the summer months of her educational holiday wrapped up in script composure and production. 

It had been a feel good job for the most part, but as she woke in the apartment meant to be solely her brothers and Chase’s, her heart felt heavy in her chest with impossible guilt she thought she squandered months prior. It wasn’t the first time she had woken with an impossible weight on her chest, but it was the first time since leaving Alaska that she felt guilt for working off of what Rudy had made. She recited to herself  as often as she could that feeling bad was ridiculous, she wasn’t getting paid, and her name wasn’t being included in the ending cards, it was all educational, however the more she told herself that the more she felt insignificant. She felt small in the social setting, a longing for Alaska taking her captive. 

Had her blonde hair not brushed against Chases shoulder on her way to the door, neither male would have noticed her presence. She was silent on her journey to her vans, character clad feet slipping on the hardwood until she found a snug home in her white slip ons.

“Josie,” Her brother called for her just before she could slip through the front door without so much of a goodbye to either male, “Why don’t you come with us today?” Chase suggested before Rudy could propose the same argument. 

In the two months since her arrival, Chase had come to be a fourth brother to the soft spoken, strong-willed, determined Alaskan girl who every so often gave into the nightmares living within her mind. He hated seeing her so withdrawn from the social settings he and Rudy created. He had known her for only a few months, but she had been transparent about the telltale signs of her struggle. Rudy sighed when he watched her brow crinkle in rejection, before she forced a smile at the two of them and was on her way to Lilah’s, the same as it was every morning. Only this time, she left her happiness lingering somewhere in the guest bedroom. 

Chase and Rudy shared a look, the men knowing the great difficulties of understanding little sisters -- especially little sisters who thought they didn’t deserve help when they were drowning. 

--

She was laughing with Madison and Lilah when Madelyn and JD came into the trailer, wide grins on their sweaty overworked faces. The day had just paused for lunch, and upon seeing the hazy film in her eyes, Jonas had insisted that she join the cast for their lunch break. Usually that didn’t happen, as she was either at another location working in the office space, or she was shadowing a few of the directors and producers while everyone else ate in the tents adjacent to the Tanneyhill set. 

JD attacked the blonde girl in a tight squeeze, having missed her cold and cuddly embraces. The girls hands and feet were always cold as a mid-winter alaskan icicle, a refresher after spending many hours beneath the unrelenting Charleston sunlight. They were all crammed into a single trailer, hot, sweaty bodies pressed together trying to enjoy the light circulation of the air conditioning. 

“What’a’do girl?” Drew exclaimed, hand outstretched ready to clap against hers. Their fingers curled against each other in a classic brotherly embrace, and she cringed away from the clammy skin of his palms against her knuckles. 

“That’s absolutely disgusting.” She cringed, shrieking in laughter when Drew advanced and rubbed his sweaty hands down her bare thighs, sending her shaking body into JD’s lap. The boy that had previously been fondling her icy hands in content, groaned at the sudden presence of her weight against softer parts of his body. “Sorry, Jed.”

“You’re not with the production team today?” Lilah asked, leaning over and snagging the iced tea that had been in Madelyn’s hands. The two blondes shared playful looks of annoyance before listening to her shrug her shoulders, “I got told that I could take lunch.” 

She watched Lilah frown, having known the way her father worked and understanding that he usually never gave his interns time to breathe. He liked feeding them all the opportunities and information he could whilst simultaneously running around like a chicken with his head cut off. 

“So did Elaine.” Austin hummed, having been beside the brunette intern when she was gifted with the rare break of lunch. A weight was lifted off of her shoulders, the paranoia that Jonas was fed up with her hazy mindset slipping away into a dark corner. 

She smiled at the beautiful people around her, somehow displaced from the utopia of opportunities sitting right beneath her fingertips. 

-

As she laid in bed that night, head cloudy with the madness of what her life had become, the bedroom door opened allowing a passage of light to coat the midnight walls gold. She shifted from her curled up position, eyeing the blonde figure as they moved through the night and surrendered to the shadow of the moon. 

“Hey.” He whispered as he slung himself against the length of the bed, nuzzling beneath the covers and turning so her was face to face with her. In the darkness he couldn’t see the tracks of moisture against her cheeks, but he knew her well enough to recognize the tremble of her shoulders. 

“Hey.” She mumbled back, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand, annoyed with the tickle of a tear beneath her eyelashes. “Sorry.” 

Rudy frowned, searching for her hand in the dead of the darkness and bringing warmth to her anxiously cold digits. She always ran colder when she was anxious, and he couldn’t help but brush his hand along her arm on certain days when she was giving off a mix of warning signs and hormones. “What are you sorry for?” 

“Feeling like this.” She sniffled, “I know you told me you didn’t do jack shit, but I just feel like you worked for this. This is your dream. I feel like I'm piggybacking and that’s the last thing I want.” 

Rudy frowned, wishing he could somehow just prove to her that this wasn’t just some charity work being thrown out to younger siblings in need of a little motivation. Jonas had seen her previous projects and aspiring indie films. He had asked Rudy about your willingness to join him for an internship, but of course Rudy had never told her that while performing a background check on him, Josh and Jonas had stumbled upon her. It just never seemed relevant in the grand scheme of things. But, he told her that now, and though it didn’t lift the heavy guilt or ease her mind, she took it into consideration so that hopefully, sometime soon, she would be confident enough to realize she wasn’t just some charity case related to Rudy Pankow.

— 𝐛𝐱𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞

[cozy-the-overlord]

Until Tomorrow

Summary:  Quarantine by itself is lonely enough. Quarantine amidst a rainstorm of biblical proportions is downright depressing. Lucky for you, a visitor arrives just in time to keep you company.

Word Count:  2,463

Pairing: Loki x Reader

A/N: Sooo..... I did a thing. I’ve never written fanfiction or reader-inserts before, but it was pouring rain last night and I’ve been reading so many quarantine fics on Ao3 that I thought I’d give it a whirl. I’ve never been more nervous about posting a story before... I hope you like it!

Also, I got an Ao3 account now, so you can read it here if you’d like

              It was raining.

              Although raining didn’t seem to do the weather justice. You couldn’t remember the last time you had witnessed such a torrential downpour. The pattering of raindrops rushing down your slanted roof had been drowned out by the wooshing of the fast-moving river that a few hours ago had been your street. Between the dark storm clouds and fog so thick you could cut it with a knife, you couldn’t make out exactly how bad the road was, but the waves that crashed against your window every time a car came skidding past your house told you that you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

              Not that you currently had any great travel plans.

              You sat on the couch at your front window, a book lying open and ignored in your lap, watching water droplets race down the glass as a shiver raced down your spine. Usually, you loved the rain. You had grown where storms were a treasured rarity, where you’d insist your mother buy you rainboots for your birthday only for her to give them away a year later when they became too small, balls of paper still stuffed into their toes. Usually, when it poured, you’d run into your driveway with your head back and arms out, belting out “Singin’ in the Rain” as you attempted dance moves that would make Gene Kelly role in his grave, just because you could.

              But today, you didn’t feel like dancing. With everything going on right now, the rain seemed less like a cause for celebration and more like a sign of impending doom. It had been weeks since you left the sanctuary of your tiny suburban house. You were lucky, everything considered— your parents were safely quarantined in your childhood home on the other side of the country, from where they FaceTimed with you at least once a day.

              Your job was secure. That was one of the wonderful things about working for Tony Stark: the day everyone was sent home, the head man himself sent out an email swearing to keep everyone on the payroll through the quarantine, regardless of how long it lasted. He had even set up a system for delivering groceries to his employees: you texted a number with your order, and a few hours later a red and gold drone dumped a box of overflowing plastic bags on your doorstep. That was something your mom couldn’t get over—Iron Man bringing you milk!— and honestly the ridiculousness of it all made you want to giggle, too.

              Sometimes, though, it was all too much. It had been ages since you’d seen anybody, ages since you had heard another voice unfiltered by the garbled speaker of your cell phone. You had never considered yourself to be an overtly social person, but damn did you wish you had somebody here to talk to. Your mother had been trying for years to convince you to adopt a pet, insisting that it wasn’t healthy for you to be living completely alone, but you had always brushed her off, saying that you were working so often that you were rarely at home and it would be cruel to the animal. Now, you promised yourself that as soon as this was over, you were heading to the Humane Society.

              If this was ever over.

              Outside, the rain kept pouring. The trickling water seemed to be whispering to you—sinister promises of something worse yet to come. You curled tighter upon yourself, pressing your cheek to your knees.

              Let this end. Please, just let this end.

              A crash behind you startled you out of your thoughts. You shrieked, whipping around to see a figure standing in your living room, soaking bags sprawled about him, staining the carpet. He scowled.

              “Bloody rainstorm. You can’t see a damn thing out there.” He shook his head and began wringing out his hair, muttering in a language you didn’t understand.

              It was several moments before you could find your voice. Once you did, it slipped out cautiously. “Loki?”

              “At your service, my lady.” He gave a grand bow, his words dripping with sarcasm.

               You stared. You knew Loki, of course. You were familiar with all of the Avengers who lived in the tower—your office was located on one of the higher levels, and as a result it wasn’t uncommon to see celebrities like Dr. Banner or Captain Rodgers making their way across the floor to meet with one of your coworkers. Unlike the others, however, you had actually spoken with Loki.

              The two of you had a little run in a few months ago, when you were refilling your coffee mug at the break room. You were already on edge because Dr. Foster was visiting, Dr. Jane Foster, and word about the floor was that she would be stopping by with Thor to meet some of the higher-level workers at some point during the day. You felt silly for feeling so starstruck, but Dr. Foster’s work was on another level of world-shattering, and the thought that you might be shaking her hand by the end of the day had you all sorts of jittery.

              Then the coffee pot exploded.

              Exploded wasn’t exactly the right word. It was more like an eruption— all at once the pitcher just vomited its contents across the counter, up to the ceiling, all over the floor, writing like an animal and spitting out more coffee than it possibly could’ve been holding previously. With a scream, you threw the anthropomorphic pot to the floor, adding shattered glass to the absolute mess in the break room.

              There wasn’t time to comprehend what just happened before he was there, pulling you out of the puddle of lukewarm coffee.

              “Forgive me, that was not supposed to happen. Are you hurt?” Loki scanned your form with an anxious sort of urgency. There was a tinge of pink on his cheeks—if you hadn’t known better, you would’ve said he was blushing. “Are you hurt?” he asked again when you only gaped at him like a dead fish. “Burned? That was not meant—forgive me.”

              “No,” you finally said. The coffee hadn’t been warm enough to do any damage. “Just… my clothes—”

               He waved his hand, and the sticky moisture clinging to your front disappeared. You ran your hand over your shirt, now dry and stainless. That’s useful.

               “Are you certain you are uninjured?” he asked. “I swear, that was not what I intended—”

               “I’m fine.” Now that the shock had worn off, you found yourself stifling the urge to giggle. “What were you trying to do?”

               Loki looked embarrassed. “My brother has the tendency of laying claim to the refreshments of any floor he visits, without leaving anything for those working on said floors. I thought I’d teach him a lesson.” He cast a glance back at the mess behind him. “The charm was meant only to react to him. I suppose I made a mistake in casting it.” He turned back to you. “I am sorry.”

               You smiled. “It’s alright. I guess I could use a bit of excitement in my life.”

               He grinned. “Words to live by.”

               After that, you had been friendly. You’d greet each other when you walked by one another, you’d make small talk in the elevator if you were riding together, he’d hold the door for you if he had the chance. Nothing serious, nothing even that personal really, just office-friendly.

              Definitely not crashing-unannounced-into-your-living-room-during-a-rainstorm-in-the-middle-of-a-pandemic friendly.

              “What—?” you sputtered, springing off the couch. “What are you doing here?”

              Loki dramatically gestured to the bags on the floor. “It seems I have been relegated to the status of a delivery boy.”

              Craning your neck, you recognized the label of your local grocery market. You frowned. “Did—did you bring me groceries?”

              The Asgardian in your living room huffed irritably. “You had an order for today, did you not?”

              You nodded slowly. Yes, you were waiting on an order today, and now that you were looking you could see that it was sprawled across the floor at Loki’s feet: a carton of orange juice, a tub of ice cream, a bag of potato chips… but what was Loki doing dropping off food for you?

              He sighed. “Stark, in his infinite wisdom, failed to consider the effect of such the elements—” he gestured to the monsoon outside your window “—on his mechanical messengers. As I am the only individual he knows with means of instantaneous travel, I have been encouraged to assist with deliveries. I am—what is the phrase?—making the rounds, if you will. ”

              “Oh.” You found yourself at a loss for words, likely looking every bit as dumbfounded as when you first met in the break room. You mentally slapped yourself. “Um… thank you. Here,” you moved to collect to foodstuff off the carpet, “I can, uh, start putting things away—”

              With one swift motion, Loki scooped everything up. “Allow me. Just tell me where you want me to put it.” You glanced up at him cautiously. He raised his eyebrows.

              “Uh, okay.”

              He followed you into your kitchen, and you cringed as you realized how truly disgusting your sink was. It had been ages since you had the motivation to do the dishes, and they had been piling up in your sink like the leaning tower of cheap ceramics for at least a week now. Loki didn’t say anything though. At your direction, he placed the bags on the counter and watched as you silently put the contents away.

              Even amidst all the awkwardness, there was something soothing about his presence. For the first time in weeks, there was a living, breathing person in your house, someone real to talk to and laugh with. So when Loki said that he had to finish his deliveries, the question that popped out of your mouth was birthed by pure desperation.

“Do you want something to drink before you go?” you asked. “Like, a glass of water? Or… I have coffee, if you don’t mind it being reheated.”

              If Loki was surprised by your offer, he masked the emotion quickly with a smirk. “Do you really trust me with coffee?”

              You giggled. “I don’t know. Can I?”

              “You shouldn’t trust me with anything,” he said, slipping into one of the seats at your kitchen table. “But I think we can make an exception just this once.”

              You sat and talked for nearly an hour, sipping your microwaved coffee as the rain pounded on the roof. Loki had plenty of quarantine stories from the Tower, stories that always seemed to end with Thor accidentally blowing something up.

              “He is not used to staying in such a limited space for this long of a time period,” he said reflectively. “I think perhaps confinement is having a detrimental effect on his intellect. Stark has installed a ‘Days Without an Accident’ count at the kitchen table, and thus far my brother has managed to reset it every day.”

              You snorted. “That sounds hilarious. I wish I was there to see that.”

              “No, you don’t. Everyone is fed up with everyone else.” Loki stared into his mug absently. “They have been starting altercations over the minutest details. It’s quite chaotic.”

              You frowned. “Aren’t you supposed to like chaos?”

              “When it’s within my control. This is far beyond that.” He took another sip, emptying it. “You are lucky to live alone. I would gladly welcome the peace you have here.”

              “I don’t know. There’s not much to do in here.” You held in a sigh. “It gets kind of depressing after a while.”

              Loki cocked his head, brow furrowed. “You are lonely?”

              Your cheeks heated with embarrassment. It was such a menial complaint to have, especially when so many others were suffering. “Kind of,” you muttered. “It’s not so bad, though.”

              Loki continued pressing. “You have access to communication, yes?” he asked, leaning forward. “I thought all of you mortals were addicted to your cellular devices.”

              “Yeah,” you replied slowly. “But it’s not the same thing as, you know, actually talking to someone. Like, when they’re actually there.”

              “I understand.” He reached out to set his mug on the table. Somewhere hidden under your smile, your heart sank. He’d be leaving soon.

               Loki cleared his throat. “If you would like,” he said, “I could pay you a visit every so often, as we are doing now.”

              What?

              “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you rushed to say, even though the thought of having a regular visitor sent your pulse thrumming.

              “No, but I think I would appreciate the respite. Today has been quite lovely, if I may say so.” He smiled— a genuine smile, not a smirk or a grin—and you felt rather silly for the way your heart seemed to soar. “Of course,” he added quickly, “if you don’t wish for my company, I completely—”

              “No!” The volume of your voice made you cringe. Jeez, he must think you haven’t spoken to anyone in months. “No, I—if you want to come over, then…” For a moment, you fumbled with your words, searching for an eloquent way to accept his offer. “I’d like that,” you finally said, giving up. “I’d like that a lot.”

              He laughed. “In that case, I’ll stop by tomorrow.” When he stood, you stood with him, following him back to your living room where he had left the groceries you hadn’t claimed. “I do need to be going now, though,” he said, scooping up the remaining bags. “The last thing I need is Stark having a fit over my failure to deliver his employees’ groceries on time.”  He nodded at you. “Thank you very much for the coffee.”

              “No problem,” you said. “Thanks for—thanks.”

              He chuckled. “Until tomorrow, my lady.”

              “Until tomorrow.”

              And just like that, he was gone. It was a noiseless disappearance: one moment he was there, the next, you were once again alone with the pouring rain. With a sigh, you made your way back to the couch, scooping up your book off the floor. Once again, however, you found your attention drifting to the water running down the window, the rushing waves of your street outside. Nothing had changed, and yet it seemed so much less frightening than it had an hour before. No, now, it was almost soothing. You had the sudden urge to run out on to your driveway and belt “Singin’ In the Rain.”

              I should’ve done that while Loki was here, you thought sleepily, pressing your cheek to the cushion. He would’ve gotten a kick out of that.

              Maybe you could, if it was still raining tomorrow.

              Tomorrow.

              You dozed off to the peaceful lullaby of the rainfall, smiling softly and thinking of tomorrow.

[mary-nesbitt-larking]

Why I moved from Choices to Lovestruck (and you should too)

It’s no secret to anyone who knows me well that I was a BIG Choices stan. I ran three Choices blogs (begging-for-kamilah, ask-kamilah sayeed and ask-priya-lacroix) for a long time, fulfilling fanfiction requests and interacting with many wonderful people. During my time in the fandom, I made some beautiful friends and created brilliant memories that I wouldn’t trade for the world. Unfortunately, as time passed, I started to notice a decline in the quality of content that Pixelberry were providing, and after a lot of hesitation, I decided to remove the app and leave the fandom. I was very lucky in that a very good friend introduced me to a different app with a similar style. Lovestruck was something that I’d heard about on the grapevine but had no idea what it was or if it could possibly compare to the fun that Choices had given me over the years. After a lot of resisting and stubborn behaviour on my part, I finally gave it a chance and have never looked back since. Here are just some of the many reasons why you should too:

There are no forced love interests in Lovestruck. That’s right. You read that correctly. You choose your love interest BEFORE you start the story so there will never be any frustrating interactions with characters that you’re not interested in. Remember in Bloodbound Book 2 when you go to Paris with Adrian and Jax (leaving the only two female love interests at home) and you were forced to hold hands with one of them (until Pixelberry later apologised and altered the scene)? There is definitely none of that to worry about in Lovestruck. The person you’re interested in is the only character who will show interest in you, and the entire story will be centred around him/her/them. 

Speaking of which, it’s time to talk about the fantastic level of LGBTQ representation in Lovestruck. Non binary characters aren’t just side characters. They actually have their own routes, as well as a huge array of adorable side characters. There are also demisexual characters, asexuals and of course, plenty of lesbians and bisexuals. Voltage (creators of Lovestruck) also very proudly celebrate pride month by releasing incredible LGBTQ content.

On the topic of representation, something that has to be applauded is the racial and religious representation in Lovestruck. You can romance Jewish characters, black characters, south American characters, Asian characters and I’m sure the list goes on. Choices fans might be sad to find that you don’t have the option to customise any love interests or MCs, but I think that this is a blessing. 

Something that I find very cool about Lovestruck is that there are different stories for every love interest. For example, if you romance one person from a certain book, romancing another from the same book will get you a completely different story with a totally different route. It’s a stark contrast to Choices, in which Pixelberry- quite literally- copy and paste the same lines for all the available love interests. 

And along the same lines of copying and pasting, it’s very refreshing to see that Lovestruck doesn’t reuse faces. I always found it terribly off putting when you’d be playing a Choices book and a love interest from another book would be your waiter or waitress. 

One brilliant thing about Lovestruck is the way that they present the MC. Every MC has their own unique personality and backstory. Whilst that does mean “less choice”, it’s really refreshing having an MC with parents. With siblings. With a job. A life. An actual story outside their love interest. There’s one MC who discusses her experiences as a woman of colour, and I think that’s exceptionally important for the player. 

On a superficial note, Lovestruck has GORGEOUS art. I did love the art in Choices too, but I don’t think it has anything on Lovestruck. The backgrounds are stunning, but it’s the characters who are gorgeous. Not to mention, we get absolutely beautiful CGs. This is something Choices sorely lacks. In the later books, the LIs and MCs even blink and move which I find gives it a more engaging feel. There are also MANY more facial expressions for every character in Lovestruck. Blushing faces, a neutral face, smiles, angry faces, sad faces, shocked faces, anxious faces... It’s not just the same standard five like in Choices. 

Another superficial- but very cool aspect- of Lovestruck is that almost every outfit is 100% free. The MCs and LIs will change their clothes whenever appropriate and you don’t have to pay a penny. The only time when outfits will ever cost any in-game currency is if it will mean you gain a CG out of it, but in my personal experience, I’ve only ever seen this being the case for two books. 

This is just a side note but something I love in Lovestruck is that adorable animals aren’t paywalled. They’re just there. Your love interest might have a cat- or a bear in one book- and you don’t have to pay to love up on them. They’re just another part of the story.

Still on the more superficial side of things is the music. I will totally admit, I LOVE the music in Choices and have a fair bit of it downloaded to my iTunes. But for anyone hesitant to move over to Lovestruck for the sake of the music, don’t panic! The music is just as brilliant, just as catchy and just as heartfelt. 

One of the things that always stressed me about Choices was the in-game currency. Diamonds were expensive and unfortunately, every single chapter would involve multiple diamond scenes. In many books, the diamond scenes were so important to the story that to go without them would mean that huge chunks of plot were missed. The amazing thing about Lovestruck is that if you choose not to do the premium scenes (the currency is hearts) then it does absolutely nothing to the story whatsoever. The heart scenes are purely there to give you a little bonus but whether you choose to do them or not, nothing about the story or your relationship with your love interest will change. 

And whilst we’re on the topic of heart scenes, it’s important to note that whilst Choices usually has 3-4 diamond scenes PER chapter, heart scenes only pop up around 9 out of every 12 chapters, and you will VERY rarely find anything that costs more than 30 hearts. 

The system to earn these hearts is totally different to Choices. Whilst you could watch ads to earn diamonds a few times per day, plus playing chapters would gain you two diamonds, Lovestruck gives you “quests”. Every few hours, the quests refresh and all you have to do is read a certain amount of chapters of a specified love interest, and you get the hearts. It’s a win/win situation because the more you play, the more you get.

Not to mention, every day you get to earn a puzzle piece and when you complete a puzzle, you win a certain amount of hearts. It seems tedious at first but they add up fast! 

And it’s not just hearts you earn, either! In Choices, you would use “keys” to read a chapter. In Lovestruck, you use “tickets”. Some quests mean that if you read a certain amount of chapters, you get given 2, 3 or even 5 tickets so you can just keep on reading! 

Since I’ve addressed some of the Lovestruck mechanics, I just want to talk about how much I love that you can fast forward, rewind, autoplay (it plays hands free and there are three different speeds to choose from) and even choose the chapter you’d like to play. This is amazingly refreshing because when it comes to Choices, you have to start the entire book again if you want to get to a specific chapter, AND you have to click through it fast because you can’t fast forward. 

Oh, and when you’ve played a chapter, a little heart symbol will appear next to it if it has a premium scene so you know whether or not you need to save your hearts! 

I really want to address the smut scenes. I know that sounds like another more superficial topic but I think it’s pretty important. I think there’s something more “mature” about Lovestruck and smut. The sex scenes are tasteful yet somehow sexier. They’re not rushed at all. And Voltage aren’t afraid to include actual kinky moments. 

More importantly, though, is that Lovestruck addresses virginity and handles it incredibly tastefully. It’s done in a realistic fashion, too. Sometimes, characters don’t really feel like having sex with their partner. Sometimes they want to at first but then feel anxiety. Sometimes they’re scared. Sometimes they want to stop half way through. Sometimes they have trouble reaching orgasm. All very real scenarios that are addressed tactfully and beautifully. The virgins (be they the MC or LI) in Lovestruck are realistic. They don’t just dive into bed. It’s a process. There’s fear along with excitement. There are moments of panic. It’s not just smut for the sake of smut. It deals with adult situations, something that I always thought Choices struggled with. 

Actually, it’s not just sex. These character get anxiety, depression and genuine mental health problems. And it’s dealt with so perfectly, yet so realistically. They’re anxious when it’s appropriate. 

I don’t want to bash Choices too badly, as I don’t think Pixelberry are an evil company, but some of the things they did- particularly towards the end- were unforgivable. 

Hana Lee’s infertility and the way that it was merely glossed over was appalling. As someone who is also infertile, I can tell you that you don’t just “get over it”, even if your partner is carrying your child. 

I’ll also never quite get over the fact that when you’re almost raped in Red Carpet Diaries 2, you have to pay 30 diamonds if you want someone to stay and comfort you. As a sexual abuse victim, I think that’s grotesque, and a glorification of rape. 

I can safely say, there is NOTHING like that in Lovestruck, and just to reiterate, all the important plot points are FREE. 

To bring this mood back up a little bit, something I think is really cute is that when you’re choosing the love interest you’d like to romance in Lovestruck, you can see sweet little facts about them, including their birthdays, their height and their personality traits. 

Sometimes the stories cross over, too, and love interests will appear in each other’s stories. And the cute thing is, if you’re romancing an LGBTQ character, it will be canonical that whichever love interest crosses over will be in an LGBTQ relationship with MC. 

There are also fun little side stories that you can play, and to really make things interesting, you can often play the same book but from the point of view of your love interest! These do usually cost hearts but not many at all. 15 hearts can get you things like 4 chapters, for example! 

I just want to talk about how wonderful Voltage are as a company, too. You can tell this isn’t about money for them. They just want the best for their players and it shows. They are often asking the community what they want and bringing out polls, and they will always let us have our say.

There are also no false promises of stories being “in the works”. If a story is abandoned, they won’t lie about it. There are no “politician’s answers” from them. Just pure transparency. 

The last thing I want to talk about is the writing style. Lovestruck’s style is worlds apart from Choices. To describe it for you, Choices feels like playing a fun app with cool stories. Lovestruck feels like reading a book, immersing yourself in a novel. And the style is unbeatable. 

TLDR; it’s time to cut the apron strings and move on from Choices. Lovestruck awaits! Tagging @lovestruckvoltage because I love you and appreciate you.

[theatresweetheart]

Quiet Comfort

Fandom(s): Sanders Sides, G/t

Summary: When Virgil just wants to nap, Patton is more than happy to help.

Warnings: Depressive thoughts, feelings of uselessness, over exhaustion, swearing, anxious thoughts/feelings

Pairings: Platonic Moxiety

Word Count: 2400 words

A/n: Me? Self-projecting on my writing? It’s more likely than you would think! This is just more of a comfort write for me and I had fun with it.

Enjoy!

Taglist: @isle-of-gold @sandersships @anonymous-bean

                                       +~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

It was just one of those days.

One of those days where it felt like the weight of the world was constantly crushing down on your shoulders even though it wasn’t.

Like you weren’t doing anything right. Like there was nothing you could do to make yourself feel productive or useful in the slightest. When there was just so much that you could be doing but couldn’t decide on what task to focus on, so you chose something that wasn’t productive in the least. Like how everything had a due date and everything was just focused around that one due date. When emotions were high strung and exhausting and confusing.

One of those days where you just felt sad.

Maybe it was a sadness that you were used to, something you lived with and didn’t antagonize because if you did, you would feel worse in the upcoming days. Or maybe it was a sadness that just came and went. Felt heavy in your chest for a couple hours and then didn’t come back for a few months.

In any case, there were different ways to deal with this routine sadness. You could do something active, distract your mind from the fact that you felt this way. You could watch something. Make something to eat. Have something to drink. One could sit and tell someone else about their feelings, asking silently for support without outright asking for it—or if you had the confidence; outright asking for someone to help support you.

That was not the kind of person Virgil was.

He couldn’t just ask for comfort up front, especially not when he didn’t want to bother someone else with his personal problems. Besides, it’s not like he can’t figure it out on his own anyways.

So, he just sat quietly on the back of the couch. The TV was playing idly in front of him, but it was more just a voiceless noise at this point. Something that he wasn’t paying attention to.

He had been watching a movie with Roman before said man had to leave for rehearsal. The screen had been left on and Virgil hadn’t moved from that position yet. It had been nearly two hours at that point. It was just on the end credits of the movie now and if he were being honest, he didn’t really remember which movie they had originally been watching.

There was a lot going through his mind. More just the fact that there was so much that he should be doing that he wasn’t doing. It was the anxiety talking to him. Such as “if you don’t get this done immediately you are, without a doubt, going to die” but then the other part of it was “but if you work on it when you’re in this state, it will be half-assed and then you’ll have to go back and reedit it.”

He tried to remain as cool and collected as he could on the outside, trying not to let the rest of the household in on the way he was truly feeling.

Because of these thoughts, his mood only soured more. In all honesty, Virgil just wanted to nap. At least to temporarily ease the pains of the waking world.

He was tired. Exhausted.

Sleep hadn’t been coming easy to him for the past few nights and he was instead staying up late into the dead of night. Looking at his phone, scrolling through posts and things that had no meaning. It wasn’t that he was avoiding sleep, that wasn’t the case. It was more so the fact that he couldn’t. It was like his body was trying to fight him every step of the way. And so, he would still be awake into the wee hours of the morning.

There was one time where when he had finally wrapped up whatever he was doing on his phone, he heard footsteps from outside of his room signifying that Logan was up. Which meant that it was around 5:30 in the morning. He had been startled for one, and for two, he had realized that getting to sleep at the point wouldn’t happen.

Virgil had pulled his third all-nighter in a row by then.

Tucking his knees closer to his chest, he let his arms fold over the tops of them and he rested his chin on his forearms. His eyelids were heavy with weariness, but with all of the stuff that he knew he should be doing, a nap should be the farthest thing from his mind.

But the way his shoulders were starting to sag and how heavy his head was...sleep was so much easier than worrying about his daily tasks.

It wouldn’t hurt if he took just a couple minutes to himself.

Just a few minutes of shutting his eyes. He could get the work done after. He would feel more refreshed and ready to actually get it done in the first place.

So, with that in mind, he allowed himself to close his eyes but let his mind shut off for just a bit, enough time to catch up on some missed time. He would work better at full capacity and that way the work he did get done wouldn’t be half-finished.

With the music from the end credits playing, it was quiet and peaceful and he could finally just—

“Hey kiddo,” Patton’s sudden entrance from behind him startled Virgil into snapping awake, whipping around to face him.

Heart pounding, he took in a soft breath to try and steady himself, taking in the confused and somewhat surprised look on the Patton’s features. Of course, as soon as he was so close to relaxing, that chance would be taken from him too.

While he was a bit bitter about it, he wasn’t about to show it.

“Is something the matter?”

Virgil shrugged his shoulders in response, using a hand to rub down his face, trying to rub the exhaustion away. “Not really,” he admitted, turning to look over his shoulder again. “I’m pretty tired, though.”

Patton’s expression softened a bit more at that, understanding flickered for a moment before a bit of guilt. “Were you just trying to nap?” The little human answered with a hesitant nod and he bit his lip. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, I didn’t know, I—”

“That’s okay, Pat,” he shrugged his shoulders, rubbing his eyes after stifling a yawn behind his hand, “no harm done.”

The silence prevailed behind him for a moment before the sound of clothing shifting followed and then light footsteps. It took a minute before Patton was sitting on the couch, his body turned just enough to see Virgil in full—which wasn’t really a hard feat, especially now with how the little one seemed to be curled into himself.

“Have you not been sleeping well?” There was that concerned look, which seemed to only be magnetized by the large glasses sitting in front of big caring brown eyes.

Virgil only shrugged again.

It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable when they didn’t say anything, but there seemed to be a question that was hanging unsaid in the air: Can I do anything to help you?

He appreciated Patton and his kindness, he really did. That constant worrying over if he was eating enough, drinking enough water, if he was taking care of himself properly. That mother-hen attitude was really endearing, but there was nothing he could really do to help him right now. Especially because he was just sleepless and tired. The most that could probably knock him out would be sleeping pills or something, which, isn’t exactly ideal either. Virgil just wanted to nap, at least for an hour—that’s really all he was begging for—and pills might knock him out for the rest of the day only to wake up at an ungodly time of night and then hit the ‘not-sleeping’ cycle again.

Which wouldn’t do him any good.

And then, he had an idea.

A stupid idea. An idea that was actually something he didn’t know he had even wanted until the thought had come from nowhere. An idea that was so embarrassing to even attempt to bring up in conversation without sounding needy or childish about it.

He turned his attention away from the larger presence, feeling heat creeping up the back of his neck. He could feel the pink tinting his cheeks, even as the warmth crept in. Suddenly, his hoodie felt a bit too warm for his liking and he rolled his hands into his sleeves, holding it tightly.

“Hey, uh,” breaking the silence wasn’t hard, it was what he was about to ask that was. Virgil cleared his throat after he knew he had Patton’s entire attention, even without needing to look at him—he could feel it. “This is such a stupid request—”

“I can guarantee that whatever you’re about to ask me is going to be anything but stupid,” Patton cut him off gently, causing Virgil to turn and look at him. That encouraging smile on his features.

That’s what you think now, he grumbled inwardly.

Quickly, he took in a softer breath, steadying the sudden flush of anxiety that spiked in his chest. “I was just, ah, wondering if I could, y’know, maybe sleep in your pocket?”

Oh God, it sounded even worse when he said it aloud.

He felt his face get hotter and instantly, upon seeing the somewhat surprised look cross Patton’s face, he turned away, wanting nothing more than to be able to pull his hood up and ignore this entire situation. To pretend that he had never said anything at all and just sit in silence like they had been before.

“Kiddo—”

“I know, it was stupid,” Virgil cut him off with a nervous laugh, trying—in vain—to hide just how embarrassed he was for even considering something like that. “I get it, it was a dumb request and- and it’s awkward and I get that, like why would I even ask, right? It was needy and clingy and made this really weird…so, if we could just forget that I even asked that in the first place, that’d be, um, that’d be great and I’ll just—”

“Wait a second, Virgil, that’s not what I—”

“—I’ll just find another place to, you know, I dunno, sleep or something. I was just…talking without thinking and here I am probably making the situation worse. So, if it’s okay with you, I’m just going to, uh, head to my room and stay there. Hopefully get some sleep.” Now with this terrible encounter under my belt, I can think about it for the next 20 or so years. “So, I’ll just go …”

“Virgil wait.” It wasn’t a demand, more of a plead, but the tone of voice it was said in was serious. It left no room for argument and Virgil’s eyes met Patton’s, almost terrified to see what he would find there. “What on earth was all of that about? You don’t have to be…ashamed to ask for something like that.”

The human swallowed nervously, the heat returning to his face and he knew that he was getting pinker by the second.

“You know me, I’m happy to help,” Patton continued his thought, leaning down a bit to get more on Virgil’s level. The sincerity was almost too much for him to face all at once. “If you want to nap in my pocket because it makes you feel better or safer, then that’s okay. If that’s what you need to actually get some sleep, then of course I’ll help you.”

The tension that had made Virgil’s shoulders tighten loosened almost instantly when he heard those words of affirmation. Every bad outcome to the situation—that had been helpfully supplied by his unhelpful anxiety—was thrown out and replaced by the fact that he wasn’t being turned away. That he wouldn’t have to live in the absolute embarrassment of asking in the first place.

At least, not for long.

Two cupped palms were raised in front of him and he slid off of the back of the couch with no hesitation. He stayed knelt comfortably on his hands and knees, though his stomach dropped when the hands did move on their own. It was still startling, even after staying around the three of them.

Usually, Virgil went places on his own. He would turn down help that was offered to him, mostly because he wanted to prove himself. (At least, that’s what he told himself.)

Instead of needing assistance into the pocket when the hand was close enough, to reach forwards and pulled the lip of the piece of sewn on fabric and peered inside. It wasn’t a far drop, so there was no use in wasting more time than necessary. He swung his legs over the edge of the palm and into the pocket itself, before pushing off and slipping into it with a controlled slide. The descent in had pushed his hood up and it laid half over his head and half over his shoulders.

It took him a minute of squirming to actually fit into the crevice of the pocket like he wanted to, laying it like a hammock. Except, in this hammock he was surrounded on all sides by safety and comfort and warmth.

There was the steady rise and fall of Patton’s chest to his left, the steady, thrumming heartbeat. It was a lulling sound, predictable and consistent. It was a sound that Virgil had found comfort listening to countless times before now.

Mixing the heat of the moment in with the comforting sounds and the exhaustion that he was feeling, the young male found himself pulling his hood up higher and tucking himself further into the crevice of the pocket and his hoodie in turn. This was the kind of feeling he had been yearning for. A gentle, understanding touch and a safe-place to relax. He was safe, he was comfortable and if he did wake a nightmare, he knew he could just raise his voice and he would be able to receive comfort within seconds.

He could feel the voice resonating to the left of him, but Virgil didn’t know what Patton was saying, possibly something along the lines of making sure he was comfortable. He wasn’t focused on the words, he was focused on the sound. The vibration that rumbled through him.

This was the intimate proximity that was relaxing. It wasn’t overbearing or overpowering. It was welcomed and special.

Virgil let his eyes slip shut and he crossed his arms over his chest, letting the exhaustion take over finally. In the peace and quiet of the pocket, he could succumb to his enervation.

[make-it-mavis]

Homesick (Entry #14)

(cw: drug withdrawal, vomiting) <-Previous ----------

01/02/88  1:34 PM

Hey.

Can’t believe I’m still going to all the effort of writing this dramatic, emotional crap down while you’re not even here to be uncomfortable about it with me. This is so unnatural. But I keep coming back to it, so…

Showering felt good. I wasn’t too happy about smelling like Fix-it’s bath products, but clearing away the grime was therapeutic in its own small way, especially since my skin was smooth and intact again. No dirt, no blood, no wounds, no outward evidence that anything had happened to me at all. 

The feeling of cleanliness was tragically short-lived, however. I’d barely finished drying off before my skin clammed up and my body felt wrapped up in a hot, wet blanket. Boost withdrawal had snuck up on me, hiding behind other, much bigger stressors. Fix-it would soon regret lending me his disturbingly comfortable, silky, immaculately free-of-his-cousin’s-sweat pajamas.

I was in for a long night.

When I left the bathroom, I found Fix-it sitting on the couch next to a folded-up blanket and some pillows, looking thoughtful or troubled or something inexplicably annoying. He straightened up the second he saw me, and gave a wobbly sort of smile. “Did it do ya good to get clean?” he asked, painfully awkwardly.

I just grimaced, waist-deep in withdrawal, not loving the irony in his question.

I sat next to him, leaned my head back, and put a cold, wet hand towel that I’d nicked from the bathroom over my face. It relaxed me a bit, but relaxing wasn’t much of an improvement. My idle mind had no safe path to wander, no distraction other than my climbing fever. So I resorted to focusing on that, and let myself sink like a rock into that post-Boost depression. I needed a hit so badly. I just imagined that sweet electric rush dissolving the withdrawal, blowing away the fog over my senses, charging me back up with fierce courage so I could get back out there and face the arcade. Thinking about a remedy only made me feel sicker, but I didn’t care. More sickness meant more distractions from… other things. 

I was in for a really long night.

It wasn’t until Fix-it said “Mavy..?” that I realized he had been talking. Silently asking the Devs why he was still trying to have a conversation with me, I replied with a grunt.

Assumedly repeating himself, he said carefully, “I just wanted to say thank you… You know, for… trusting me.”

I figured he was kind of putting words in my mouth, but whatever. I was willingly staying in his home, so he wasn’t completely wrong. But I knew he really meant trusting him with… well, everything written on my body. To that, I did not know what to say. I lifted the corner of the cloth on my face to peer at him. He was giving me those earnest eyes again, the ones that his binary may as well tumble out of. I could almost feel the bags under my eyes getting heavier. It felt like anything I could have said would only have made me worse off.

After a sufficiently weird pause, I figured out what to say.

“Do you have a bucket?”

“...Beg pardon?”

“So I don’t puke on your floor.”

“Oh!”

He sprung up like a popcorn kernel, disappeared for a second, and returned with a gross-looking utility bucket, probably the only dirty thing I’d seen in his apartment thus far. It had definitely been used for paint at some point, of all things. Then, seemingly trying to top his personal best record for stupid questions, he asked if I was nauseous. I didn’t dignify it with a response. After that, he just insisted on brewing me some tea that I can’t remember the name of, because it would, as he put it, soothe my “tummy” and help me sleep.

I told him that if he said “tummy” again, I might miss the bucket.

While the tea steeped, we had some minor disagreements about the sleeping arrangement. He wanted to take the couch while I slept in his bed, but I was having none of that. The final verdict was that he’d take the bed, I’d take the couch, and if I somehow needed something that I couldn’t get myself, I could wake him up.

The tea was counterproductive. When I went to drink it, the mug didn’t even make it to my lips. I took one whiff of the scent -- not a bad one, but a scent nonetheless -- and my stomach lurched. I retched into the bucket not a moment later. Fix-it sprung up and practically started whining like an anxious dog. At the same time, though, he looked like he was fighting the urge to sympathy vomit. We had agreed on lights out just a moment ago, but he insisted that he must stay up with me for just a little while longer.

I groaned into the bucket in my lap, “To do what, read me a bedtime story?”

“...Well--”

“No.”

He gave up after that. At long last, he turned in for the night. He got me a glass of water, turned off the lights, and pretended to close the door behind him when he went into his room -- he left it cracked, for some reason I’d no doubt disagree with.

Once the lights were off, it really stood out to me just how wrong it felt spending the night inside Niceland again, after all these years. It was obscenely quiet, the only thing close to white noise being Wreck-it’s distant snoring. The windows didn’t need any blackout shutters like they would in your game, what with our game’s permanent night setting, but the cold, dim light from the cabinet’s screen around the corner was just enough to cast faint window-shaped squares on the floor. For most, it all probably would have been ideal for sleeping. But for me, it was too rigid. Too manufactured, sterile, too clean-cut. I needed mess. I needed a raw, wild, pass-out-drunk mess. Old pilled blankets, misshapen cushions, stained pillows, creaky springs in a mattress way too small for two sprites. If nothing else, I needed the stars. But you can’t see them from the windows of Niceland.

I thought of the places I wished I could be, threw up again, and began my really, really long night.

Most of the night felt like some kind of time loop, just the same awful crap for Devs know how many hours. Throwing up, washing out the bucket, sipping water, refilling water, refreshing the cold towel, burning up, shivering, throwing the blanket, bundling up in the blanket, throwing up again. Startling flashes of memory still kept me from drifting off, but it wasn’t just the fireworks anymore. There was also barking. There was that freak’s grating, screeching abuse. There was the garbled, distorted sound of metal splitting. Worst of all, the feeling of fading into sleep almost felt like fading into near-death again, kicking up that terrified, tooth-and-claw refusal to die. In those cases, I’d wake up screaming.

Freaked the hell out of Fix-it every time.

Something else happened that night. I have no idea what time it was. There was nothing left in me to throw up anymore. My teeth were chattering, but my sweat had still soaked well into the couch. I’d tossed away the warm and damp pillows in favor of resting my burning cheek against the cool cushion beneath. I was just trying desperately to creep past the obstacles between me and anything resembling rest. That’s when things got a little… let’s say “creative.”

I tried to fool myself into thinking I was somewhere more conducive to a good night’s sleep, and it worked. If I really thought about it, I could smell chips, popcorn, and Burger Time grease in the cushion under my head. I could make the upholstery feel frayed and slack. In my feverish delirium, I could even change the room around me. I could picture the walls pulled closer, and an impressive amount of junk for such a small space, all of which I knew by heart. There would be a stereo across from me, a kitchen counter down past my feet, half-full soda cans close to my head, empty six-pack rings hanging on the door handle, a jumpsuit thrown over the corner of the couch, and above me, a rack of meticulously polished trophies. As long as I kept my eyes closed, I was in your trailer. 

For those fleeting moments, everything felt normal again. It was as if nothing ever changed.

I heard your bed creak, and your footsteps shortly after. You paused close to me for a second before continuing into the kitchen. Jars rattled when you opened the fridge, a cupboard creaked as you looked for a glass that was actually clean, and I heard you pour something -- could only have been soda, in the middle of the night, you spectacular trainwreck. Then you crossed back to me, set your glass on a surface that shouldn’t have been there, and stopped moving. You just went quiet. So much that I thought you must have been plotting a way to mess with me in my sleep. I welcomed it, too. I couldn’t wait to catch you in the act and tackle you to the floor.

Then I heard, soft as a mouse, “Mavy?”

The illusion dissipated the moment Fix-it spoke. Reality struck again, landing a critical hit on that miserable withdrawal depression. It wasn’t you. It was just Fix-it, who had apparently come to get me a new glass of water. Part of me wanted to spring up and deck him, but I stayed perfectly still and silent. I didn’t want to encourage him to keep talking to me. In all honesty, I felt too heavy and lifeless to do anything at all.

“Mavy?” he said again. “Are you awake?”

Another stupid question. I just imagined that he wasn’t there, in hopes that it would come true. But, much to my regret, I heard him sit on the coffee table again. I could feel him looking at me. He was silent long enough for me to think that he had come out just to watch me sleep, like an absolute creepazoid. But just as I was bucking up the moxie to tell him to buzz off, he spoke again.

“Mavy… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, or-- or tried to pressure you, or…” 

The first of many long pauses. 

“...I never should have doubted you. You’re worth so… so much more than anyone gives you credit for, and… I’ve known that since day one. Somewhere in this mayhem, I… just... lost sight of that. I know you won’t listen to how sorry I am… but I promise you, Mavy, it won’t happen again. Families support each other… and… this little family of two is all we’ve got. And I know…”

A long pause.

“...I know that you don’t… want a family. But, darn it, Mavy, you need a family, now more than ever. It… It hurts so much watching all this happen to someone I care about. I’m trying so hard to help you, but I just…”

Another pause, exceptionally long this time. For a minute, I wondered if he had left without me noticing, but sure enough, he spoke again. This time, his voice trembled. He’d started crying.

“I… don’t know… how to be the family you need. It... seems like everything I try just… pushes you away even more. I’m not asking you to forgive me, even after all these years, I just… I wish… I wish we could just talk about it. I wish we could just start over and… be better.”

He sniffed, and fell silent again for a minute. When he spoke again, his voice was even quieter.

“You know, for all the trouble you two got into, I… I just loved seeing how happy he made you. I may not know how to be what you need, but… sure seemed like he did. No one else could make you laugh quite like him. ...I miss that laugh.”

Pause.

Then, by some miracle, I managed not to jump when he squeezed my hand. It was disgusting. He wasn’t wearing his gloves, so it was full skin-on-skin contact, and my hand was slimy with sweat, and for the Devs’ sake, Fix-it, I was asleep, as far as he knew. What kind of creep touches someone while they’re sleeping? Yeah, it was just my hand, but it’s the principle of the matter. I did not consent to that contact, and I would not have, even if he asked me. The whole idea of it pissed me off so much.

It didn’t make sense to me, then, why I didn’t pull away.

Maybe I was paralyzed with subconscious rage. Maybe I was too sick and depressed to move. Maybe I really, really didn’t want him to know I’d heard all that. Or, maybe pulling away would have conveyed a message that I didn’t want to send, one I didn’t think he fully deserved at the time.

Probably the rage.

Whatever my reason, he held my hand long enough to test me. Not even my gross, soggy palms deterred him. The binary in my hand was starting to really ache by the time he went on.

“You don’t deserve a broken heart, Mavy. I wish I could do more. I wish I could just… wave my hammer and bring him back for you. I’m so--... I’m so sorry I can’t give you that. There are some things I just… can’t fix.”

I heard him take a deep, slow breath, and it sounded like he rubbed his face with his free hand. For another few moments, I felt him watching me.

“Dream of something nice for me,” he finally muttered, and gave my hand one final squeeze before letting go. He stood, and, despite the fact that I was burning up, draped the blanket over my shoulders like some sappy cliché. Then he went the whole nine yards.

“Love you, cuz. Hope you know that.”

With that, he left me be. I waited until I heard his door creak and his duvet rustle to throw the blanket off and wipe my hand all over the couch. There was barely any mind power left in me to process what had just happened, but I suppose I ought to have thanked him for it -- it took my mind off of the things keeping me awake, and I eventually fell asleep, lost in uncomfortable thought.

I wasn’t angry, really, or even annoyed. I didn’t want to run away or chew him out. I just took bets with myself over how much longer it would be ‘til he realized he was wasting his time on me.

[blehbleehhhh]

Finally (ft. EreMika💗)

"Chapter 123 but mikasa actually confesses and eren gets really happy and they spend the night together getting drunk and cuddling ❤️❤️❤️❤️" IM DYING TO DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS SINCE I READ THE CHAPTER OH MY GOD! Seriously I can't get all that went down out of my head lol. This is fairly short but it made me feel a little better (until I remembered how depressing the manga is) anyway, hope you all like it. I’m not sure if my friend would be comfortable with me adding his name but he knows who he is, thanks again for proof reading!

Of course he was out in the public eye without any protection, the exact opposite of what he's supposed to be doing. Mikasa can tell that something weighs heavily on his mind from the nonverbal signals that nobody but someone who grew up beside him could pick up on. His head hangs like he's sulking. "Eren?" But there's no way that she could have possibly known the only reason why he briefly had his arm raised was to wipe a tear from his cheek. Or the horrific tragedy that'll wipe all of these people off the face of the earth. "We've been looking everywhere for you. You do realize that you're the enemy's main target, right? It's not safe for you to be out here without any protection." She couldn't make out what he was staring at until she had slowly approached and realized that the young boy who had been caught with Sasha's wallet earlier is chatting merrily with his family. "The boy from the market? Did something happen?"

"Not yet."

"What do you mean? What is this place?"

"This is where people whose regular, everyday lives have suddenly been taken away by war come to live."

"It's just like what happened to us."

"Yeah." Eren swallows hard as he contemplates if he should even bother to bring something like this up with what's about to occur on the horizon. But this could be it for him. And for the longest time, he really hasn't given much credence to what they actually are, but boy has he now. His mind can't stop. Fuck it. "Mikasa?" He says calmly as he slowly turns to face her. "Why is it that you care so much for me?" That look in his eyes and the odd question stunned her into silence. It's so unlike him to be this open that she was caught off guard. "Is it because I saved your life when we were kids, or is it because we're family?"

"Huh? Uh.." Mikasa frantically searches her mind for the correct words and they study one another carefully, though neither seem to realize that they're ultimately desperate for the same conclusion. "Well, y-you...you're my famil-" But she stops herself, because she knows that it would be a big mistake to label them something as simple as family. "No. You know what? You're my everything. Why do you think I followed you into the military? I can't even fathom the thought of your death, so I-I thought that maybe I could increase your odds perhaps a little if -" But her anxious ramblings were pleasantly interrupted with his surprisingly soft lips in a deep, tender kiss that honestly swept her off her feet. She wasn't even sure what to do at first, but after he pulled away and looked into her eyes, she knew exactly what to do next. With a tiny smile, Mikasa goes back for more and he was happy to oblige because, now that they've gotten past that barrier, they're quickly finding it difficult to stop this whole 'kissing thing' once you start. The infamous spark is felt each time and it's like an addictive drug that they can't help but chase. She cradles his cheeks in her hands and was pleased to feel him wrap his arms around her waist, allowing herself to be pulled closer so their bodies were pressed up against one another.

"It's about time!" Sasha shouts excitedly. The couple pull apart quickly with burning cheeks to see their friends staring at them in varying degrees of surprise. Jean, however, rolls his eyes in disgust and scoffs under his breath.

"Finally!" Armin was the most excited to see his friends making out, perhaps because he has been with them the longest and sensed something special from the start.

"Perfect timing..." Eren says under his breath, obviously annoyed that their comrades have very clearly ruined a moment. But who could possibly be upset right now, when he has just learned that the love of his life's just as crazy about him as he is about her? He rolls his eyes, then waves for his friends to follow after him into the same tent that the young boy and his family have graciously invited everyone to visit. Alcohol was soon passed around and accepted immediately by the soldiers as they made themselves at home. It was strange to have her sitting so close with her head resting on his shoulder as they get drunk with their friends, but he had to admit, having his arm around her waist like this felt pretty incredible. He honestly hasn't laughed this much in years and it feels like it's been a lifetime since he has heard Mikasa's distinguishable giggle. Refreshing, even. Though they are decently drunk in nature, they're also pretty cute. "Hey," Eren whispers to her and smiles as she lifts her head to gaze up into his eyes. "I think you've had enough to drink. You're starting to snort when you laugh."

"Don't be mean," She gives a sleepy grin and sighs with contentment, moving her arm slowly around the width of his bicep. "Wow, I've literally never been this happy." Her attention briefly falls to his lips before they move to his eyes once more. Surely I'm dreaming. But she wasn't dreaming - the only man she has ever loved really had tossed all his cards on the table earlier in the evening. She wasn't sure what had even triggered him to do such a thing, but she certainly wasn't complaining. It's lovely to see Eren over the moon like this and she's proud to know that she's the reason why his smile is so wide.

[nyrator]

still feel like venting and rambling into spacee

broke up with kresna yesterday, he still hasn’t responded to me at all. I’m worried, but don’t want to keep pestering him, either. I know he really wanted us to be a thing, but I don’t think I’m built for a relationship. Maybe we can try again once the border is open and see how things go in person. But right now, we’re too frustrated and too weighed down by our own personal lives to harmonize well at the moment, and it’s not like I haven’t brought up the issue several times as well to brace him for it. Maybe it’ll just be a refreshing breather for the two of us to help get things back on track, but he can take things very personally. I hope I haven’t lost my best friend. I really, really hope I haven’t lost him for good.

He really is a good person. I can’t really give him what he needs right now- I just end up giving him more problems, and I hope this was the right decision. It felt like the only decision I had. I’m scared at how dangerous it might turn out to be. I still plan on treating him the same, if he chooses to accept it, he’s still my best friend like I said, but I feel it’s going to be a lot harder on him and I hope he can make it through this.

My boss texted me today and told me they’re closing the store down next month, which is sad. That floral shop was very good to me, I remember my boss wanting to downsize and just have me and her running the business together, if I ended up not moving to Canada. Sad that won’t happen, but glad she got a new job as a substitute teacher. They’re pretty sure I can get a manager job at any craft store if I applied (I’m doubtful), and I live somewhat close to some big ones (Joanns/Michaels/Hobby Lobby/etc), so maybe I’ll start applying there. I can’t imagine a lot of the smaller stores staying open (what is it, 20 percent of them went out of business so far since covid?), so probably not worth it to even apply to them. Will have to get a car, too. Have $10,000 in savings, theoretically it can last me all of 2021 without including spending it on a car.

Speaking about my budget out loud.

$125 a month in rent, ~$35 in electric, $65 on internet, and say ~$10 for four-ish loads of laundry a month = $235 on basic living.

Groceries, roughly $30 a month I’d say, I tend to not need much, and any food is covered under food stamps. ~$65 a month on cats. = ~ $330 a month I spend on average, plus any luxury items like video games that I might buy.

Right now I still receive about $220 every two weeks from unemployment, but that can disappear at any moment. Rent is income based, I don’t know if they took it with my unemployment or without since it was right when it got re-extended somehow, probably from covid. I was told $25 a month (I know, that’s absolutely insane), but the paperwork says $125 (still insane but I’ll take what I can get, rent is the one good thing I have going for me right now, thank you income-based senior apartment).

I also applied for another credit card, but still inexperienced at building credit- hopefully it builds quick enough where if I need a car, I can get a decent payment plan

In short, I can get by for a year without a job, theoretically, but I’d rather not. And the sooner I get a car, the better, probably- driving makes me extremely, extremely anxious, though, but I can’t really walk anywhere safely either thanks to the highways/interstates. There’s biking, but most things are on a highway uphill... And always the bus if they still run, but the bus I take is very limited on where it goes...

Another stimulus would be great (ah, politics), if only to help with the bigger purchases. Still like the idea of UBI too, even though it’s highly unlikely we’ll get anything like it any time soon.

I also thought about going back to school, maybe online courses, get something in computers. One for personal use- to make things like video games, but also to see if I can get a career in it. I know it’s a field that is in need of programmers, I just wonder if I’d be able to do it (or afford it...), feels like a big commitment for me.

Been in weird mode post-break up. Part of me does feel refreshed, like I can focus on myself again, on my projects. Another friend is trying to inspire our group to work on our fangames again before the New Year, and I feel like I might work on you&me again, finally. Maybe Ploom, too, or Skatered concept art. Maybe I’m just filling my head with these ideas to cope and not think about the terrible thing I’ve done, I dunno. Today depression hit a lot harder than yesterday.

Still playing with the idea of becoming a vtuber legitimately ever since an artist I followed became one, maybe as Lave, maybe as a completely original character and become totally anonymous about it. I’d probably do pre-recorded videos rather than streams, I’d imagine. I’m not a good speaker- not a lot to talk about, and I have a lisp and trip over my words a lot. I’d probably just play my favorite games (Yume Nikki, Cave Story, F-Zero GX, etc) and keep a shy, somewhat informational persona, or something, instead of the energetic reactionary ones I usually see. Beyond games, not sure- Q&As, if the audience is there for it, otherwise, hm. Maybe art recordings, I guess. I’d like to play music, but good ol’ dmca stuff still exists.

Chances are very slim this actually happens, and I feel like a dork for even entertaining the idea, but it’s something to think about to kill time, I suppose.

Healthwise, slowly getting back on track, but it varies. Starting to eat 1,500 calories again (mostly through chocolate, though), bought some foods to try, but no idea how to prepare. Today was a low energy kind of day, took three naps throughout it and still feel like laying in bed.

My sleep is still something- I’m always fascinated by sleep and parasomnia stuffs that I kind of want to experiment, but for my health I probably shouldn’t. One night recently I had a strange dream, more of a feeling, mixed with sleep paralysis and other things I shouldn’t mention. Got a few entries this month for my dream diary again, not sure if it’s from my crazy sleep schedules, or from actively keeping the diary again, or what.

Still on the fence about sharing the diary, if only because of how embarrassing it is. Maybe through RN, for some reason I like exposing those kinds of thoughts through RN to vent, I guess- it’s fun to embarrass Lave and not fun to embarrass me, even though that makes no sense. I don’t think I could draw those dreams, though, so maybe a written blog post on the RN blog...? I dunno.

Also slowly getting back into the ACNH life- realized I’m still missing a lot of furniture though, made a wishlist but haven’t really played with anyone lately, wish the Nooklings would actually sell new items (come on Nintendo, add another upgrade, please- I do wonder if more items than I think are limited in color selection per island, like the Nook items/surfboards). Might have to make a separate post for it laterr. Also updated my wardrobe in the game finally, not 100% on it (the skirt mainly, maybe the hat too) but overall it looks okay. Not sure why I’m such a huge fan of moccasins but pink ones are great (I’ve only owned brown ones irl). Still would like to own a hat like that, too... especially now that my hair is thinning more and more

also recipes are still a pain to get, made a checklist and it looks like I’m still missing roughly a third of the recipes, rippp (one day, giant teddy bear, wooden bookshelf, cool moon chair thing, etc...)