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burnedbyshoto · 4 years ago

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the bodyguard

— Kirishima gets assigned to be the bodyguard to one of the worlds greatest idols: you. —

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pairing: bodyguard!kirishima eijirou x idol!reader

warnings: nsfw, 18+, brat taming, authority kink, spanking, blowjob, slapping, choking, brat taming, brat!reader, modern!au, no quirks, bodyguard!kirishima, idol!reader, PTSD portrayal, anxiety, war flashbacks, implied minor character death, drugging, alcohol consumption, size difference: kirishima is 2 feet taller than you, regardless of the reader’s original height. If you’re 6 ft congrats he’s 8 ft.

word count: 20,500

a/n: this is for the bnharem collab.... im so sorry, it’s 4:30 am and I have a plane to catch in 2 hours to get back to school. thank you jo for proofreading this for me because lol I am a mess. if the paragraph spacing did not work as I wish it does, please let me know so I can go in and edit in visible paragraph spacers!

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“I’ll be okay.”

The smell of dirt, sweat, and blood clung to the air.

The sun was setting, its blood-red shine illuminating against the destroyed earth, making the already bloodied soil even bloodier.

There was no telling if the land was quiet, if the reason why the world's silence was because the world just for this moment had gone silent, or if the earlier explosions were still ringing in his ears.

Kirishima sat wounded, his back pressed to the wall, his eyes wide, breathing erratic. He can’t move, can’t bother picking up the gun that lays abandoned by his knee as warm, sticky liquid spills onto his clothed knees and continues to soak the fabric of his jeans.

What had he done?

What in the fucking world had he done?!

BOOM!

Kirishima stills, his eyes stilling on the floor and looking at the clear moisture. He doesn’t need to touch his face to know it’s a combination of both sweat and tears.

His ears sing with white noise, the erratic beat of his heart, and his pained breathing.

“I’ll be okay,” the ghost taunts his mind.

But I’m not okay, Kirishima tries to speak, but knows with how his tongue is sitting like a thick dried sponge in his mouth, he won’t be able to speak. Pushing off the cold floor, flops onto his back, his arm flinging over his closed, shaken eyes until the ringing in his ear disappears into his alarm clock.

05:30.

Kirishima lays there for a bit more, his chest still heaving heavily with the weight of lead.

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Better?

No, not yet.

Kirishima runs through breathing exercises, his chest never stopping in it’s hiccuped, broken pants as his memories continue to haunt his mind. If only he was smarter, more observant, better.

“Time to get up, time to get up, time to get up,” his phone screams with his second alarm set at 06:45. The sound does what it’s intended, jolting Kirishima out of his own head. His labored breathing shallowing just enough for his lungs to finally grasp ahold of its required function.

Today was an important day for him; he needed to be on his tiptop game, according to what Toshinori said yesterday.

I’m okay, he convinced himself as he does every morning after having this dream. Kirishima flings his arm off his eyes, the morning purple sun shining softly through his blinds. I’m okay.

Date: 4/2 Time: 08:00 Location: UA Services

“And in other news, music industries princess Y/n has been attacked by yet another round of masked perpetrators. Fortunately for the music idol, she was left unhurt but was clearly rattled. This is but the fourth attack on Y/n since three weeks ago. It’s leaving many of us fans, spectators, and civilians wondering just what is being done to ensure her safety? Y/n is reported to not have a single bodyguard to her name, wanting to quote-on-quote ‘experience her fans to the fullest’, but with these recent attacks, we can’t help but hope something is done. At least until something is done about these attackers—”

Kirishima’s eyes tore away from the screen, his lips pressed into a deep frown as he took in the story. There was deep worry about it, not only because he hated the idea of people getting hurt, but because he was a big fan of yours.

Your debut album had come out during his training camp for the military. Not only was it an instant billboard smasher breaking every standing record, but his commanding officers were obsessed with the album and played it continuously until they graduated. Most of Kirishima’s comrades came to dislike your music solely because they remember throwing up, bleeding, and suffering while you sang about love and whatnot, but Kirishima? Kirishima fell in love.

It was a bright spot in his life, and he was grateful for your music, even if it has been ten years and six albums since the training camp.

“Yo, Kiri!” a voice cheered out happily as a hand clasped onto his shoulder from behind. Kirishima held the flinch that threatened to rip through his bones. Kirishima turned to find Kaminari grinning up at him, a cup of steaming tea in one hand as he grinned brightly at his coworker. “I heard you’re finally getting a good case today!”

Kirishima found himself relaxing at the sight of his rather spontaneous friend, a warm smile easing onto his face as he raised his fist for a greeting fist bump.

“We’ll see, I know Toshi’ said it was going to be important, but he also said escorting the paranoid old lady was important,” Kirishima sighed, his smile softening a bit.

Kaminari laughed, his arm slinging around Kirishima’s shoulders as he remembered that.

The little old lady was sure that the government was out to kill her and wanted protection until her son returned from his vacation. Needless to say, Kirishima had thoroughly enjoyed his time with her, even if she was a bit scary. It was a low-risk job, and he only was paranoid by her cane, which she used to thwack his back many times as she talked about how plums extended your life.

“God, I remember subbing in for you for one hour because of your family emergency, and she was so scary! She still haunts my nightmares!” Kaminari shudders, placing the cup of his tea to his lip and taking a long, slow drink. His eyes shift over to the TV, which is still broadcasting the story of your attack. “What a bunch of bastards,” he growls, eyebrows scrunching as the news reporter ends the segment. “Thinking they can go after such a beautiful and talented idol… I’ll kill them.”

Kirishima was more than well aware of Kaminari’s plentiful budding romances. The blond man fell in love with just about any smiling woman who happened to waltz in front of him. Still, unlike most times, he found himself agreeing with him.

“It sounds really serious. I hope that she really considers some type of security team,” Kirishima inputs too, taking the teacup in his fingers with a nod of thanks. “There’re too many weirdos in Japan and in the world, I wouldn’t want to hear the news the day something bad happens.”

Kaminari hums, his face nearing Kirishima’s as he takes a small sip of the apparently black tea. His eyes scrunch, and Kirishima smiles awkwardly as the blond studies him intently.

“W-Wha—”

“You like Y/n!” Kaminari exclaims (accuses, maybe?), his arm leaving Kirishima’s shoulders as he points a finger accusingly at him. “I thought I was the only one in this department who did!”

“Don’t be an idiot, Denki,” the familiar voice of Sero responds for Kirishima. “Everyone in the world is in love with Y/n; she was voted the favorite artist of the year in our company. Everyone but Bakugou voted for her if I remember correctly.”

Kirishima looks over at his black-haired friend who is rummaging through his locker, his mouth curved into an easy, teasing smile as he looks between the bashful Kaminari and sneering Bakugou, who also seemed to just walk in.

“Her shit is basic and overrated,” Bakugou defended himself. “Nothing special and bad for your brain and ears.”

“Your go-to music playlist is fifty percent death metal and alt. rock. I don’t think you have ground to say that it’s bad for your brain and ears,” Midoriya’s snicker sounded from behind Kirishima, and he looked around to see the freckled man grinning at the snarling ash blond.

“And how does your stalker ass know that, shitnerd?!”

“‘Cause I’m a stalker, duh.”

“Oh, Bakugou-kun, Midoriya-kun! You’re both here! Todoroki-kun is looking for you!”

“I’m just saying that Y/n’s dates to all the award shows and premieres have been blond. She’s into blonds, so she would totally be into me!”

“Deku, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to kill you myself.”

“You wouldn’t even be able to protect Y/n, bro. The only thing you performed well on in the application process was the tasing part. You can’t even tase people repetitively! She’d be dead in a second.”

“Can you believe my client dropped me because I couldn’t cook a five-star meal correctly? Hello, I can make 7-11 into a five-star course; it’s not my fault they’re not refined.”

“Kirishima-kun, are you okay?”

“I deadass got into a dance competition on the way to work. That’s why I’m late, why would I lie? Of course, I had to compete; my reputation was on the line!”

“Kirishima-kun?”

“Yo, he’s not looking too hot?”

“Kirishima?!”

“Can you hear us?!”

Silence.

Kirishima found himself opening his eyes — when had he closed them? For a moment, the air turned coppery, his body feeling weak, and he thought he felt something heavy on his lap. But that wasn’t right; he was standing up, he wasn’t sitting down. Most importantly, he was in Tokyo, Japan. He was alright. He was safe.

The sweat that clung to the back of his neck was cold, clammy, and intrusive. His chest felt tight again, his hands shaking so harshly the tea's warm, dark liquid was sloshing onto the floor.

There were seven pairs of eyes on him, each a different color, each swimming with concern and other emotions. Kirishima knew his ears weren’t working right now, his face unable to meet his brain's screaming demands to smile, and he watched as their mouths moved as they questioned his sanity.

He was okay.

“Kirishima?”

Kirishima looked up, his neck craning to the side to see a tall, skinny man standing at the doorway.

Toshinori Yagi was an esteemed bodyguard, one of the best in the industry, which was saying something considering that most bodyguards went unknown and unnamed. According to Google, Toshinori gained the nickname All Might after saving multiple political and celebrity lives when the government could not. It was long after his prime, and the man had retired but has since filled as the company’s head — thus why this job was near impossible to get.

Kirishima heaved a breath, realizing that he hadn’t taken a single breath when Toshinori’s bruised eyes narrowed in his concern.

“C-Coming,” Kirishima smiled, the blood rushing to his ears mostly ignorable now, but the scorching concerned gazes of his friends feel like cinders on his shoulder.

He straightens his tie, fingers curling when he feels the cold sweat penetrating through his clothes, but Kirishima doesn’t let it show. Smiling like he does, Kirishima pushed through his friends and followed Toshinori out the door.

They walked down towards the conference rooms, rooms that held their contractors, in complete silence.

“This is an important case,” Toshinori began, his voice gentle and poorly hiding his concern. “I chose you because you are a great asset to have, Kirishima. You are strong and smart, and most importantly, are personable.”

Kirishima looked at the man, his face contorting with his anxiety. He didn’t want to be treated like glass.

“Honestly, you being so personable is why I chose you for this assignment. Todoroki-shounen was a contender at first, but he’s not much of a talker; the same goes for Bakugou-shounen. Midoriya-shounen was probably the best choice, but there’s a new assignment that asked for three, so I gave up those three,” Toshinori explained the current assignments. It both delighted Kirishima to hear that he could keep up with arguably the three most qualified workers here as it did, at times, make him feel lesser.

“Oh.”

But he was obviously not the first choice still.

“The only reason why you weren’t the first choice is because of what I walked into just now,” Toshinori interrupts Kirishima’s thoughts and words. Kirishima finds his eyes tearing away from the smooth, polished wood floor to see Toshinori stopping in front of Conference Room A, his gaze intense on him. “To be frank, I wasn’t too sure if we should have hired you all that time ago. You are excellent on the field, your skills are phenomenal. Something to be proud of, truly, but you are clearly not completely healed from your time on the force.”

“Toshinori—”

“Kirishima-shonen, I’m not saying that there’s shame in your current struggles,” Toshinori once again interrupts, his hand a soothing warmth on Kirishima’s shoulder. “I’m still not healed from my past injuries, and as many people have undoubtedly told you, it’s okay to not be okay. But you barely passed the psych evaluation and only passed your field training because you scored so phenomenally on the other things your lack of a shooting score passed you.”

Kirishima felt unable to look away from the piercing blue eyes, and the lump in his throat never tasted as bitter, as sad.

He had barely passed the admittance test.

“I just need to know, are you ready to take on this assignment?” Toshinori asks in complete seriousness. “It’s a high stake, big-name client. We do not expect anything untoward to happen, but we never know in these cases. I think highly of you, Kirishima-shonen, and if you are ready to take this on, I’ll believe you, but likewise, if you’re not, I will gladly give this to someone else.”

Kirishima swallowed, his dry tongue passing through his equally dry lips.

Without question, he was not okay, not when he nearly broke down twice in a matter of hours, but it was just a bad day. He wasn’t as shaken as he was two months ago; he was going to his mandated therapy, talking to people who could assist him. Kirishima just didn’t want to be treated like glass anymore; he wasn’t glass; he was an unbreakable force.

Steeling over his nerves and ignoring how his stomach twisted and turned, Kirishima raised his gaze to Toshinori.

“I can do it.”

A smile.

“Good.”

If Kirishima was sweating because he was on a mental slip earlier, he was now sweating because he was beyond petrified and embarrassed. His hands raised up to brush against his red spikey hair, praying to God that it didn’t look dumb. His legs bounced at a speed that was bordering insanity, but he could only hear the sound of his racing heart as he stared at your frowning form from across the table.

It was you — the Y/n, the world's biggest music idol, an absolute legend in the making.

“This is our very own Kirishima Eijirou, age twenty-eight. He has been with U.A.Services for approximately six months now and is without a doubt one of our most capable and well-serviced men,” Toshinori began the introduction to the three people on the other side of the table. Kirishima could feel a blush rising up his neck and settling into his cheeks as what he presumed to be you, your manager, and your lawyer shuffling through paperwork that was very thorough on his background. “He was enlisted in the military before joining our ranks and was honorably discharged at the age of twenty-six as First Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou due to extreme injury. He excels in negotiating, scouting, and is, as you know, a skilled close combatant and was skilled in handguns—”

“I don’t think he’ll need firearms,” you interrupt, a frown on your face in contrast to the bright smile Kirishima was so used to seeing on your face. He tensed in worry.

“Y/l/n!” your manager, Sato Kimiko, scolded.

“What? It’s true! We’ll be around my fans for the majority, if not all the time! How is that right? For him to have a firearm around defenseless, and may I add, harmless individuals?!” you argued, your eyebrows scrunching in your fury.

Kirishima felt frozen in his chair, his eyes seeking Toshinori for guidance, but found himself unable to look away from you. He knew nearly everything about you, he could admit with a proud grin that he was a super mega fan of you, and he might have, at one point, looked your height up to imagine how you would appear beside him. Kirishima had known this entire time that you were two feet shorter than him, but it hadn’t hit what that meant until he was shaking your hand when he first entered.

You were tiny.

His dick and mind really liked that, and seeing your own passion spilling out for your fans was making him fall deeper into this hole he had for you.

“You don’t have a say anymore? Do you understand? You were nearly assaulted yesterday, and we are all done waiting around for something serious to happen!” Kimiko yelled, her face contorted into a look of both frustration and fear. “Either you take this, or we all leave you. I won’t have you murdered in front of me! You’re twenty-six now, stop acting like a damn brat and grow the hell up!”

The words scorched the table, blistering heat filling the conference room as you met Kimiko’s glare.

Kirishima watched with a dropped jaw as your nostrils flared, your lips pursing, and your eyebrows furrowing with unspoken distaste and anger.

“Six months tops.”

“Uh, yes,” Toshinori interjected. “Our contracts only last up to six months for new clients, but if you find yourself wanting to extend your contract after those six months, we are very much open to negotiations.”

You nodded your head, your eyes falling back onto the booklet in your hands that exposed all the information available on Kirishima. From his likes, dislikes, to his allergies and the reason why he was discharged. Each in disturbingly deep detail to make sure all things were up on the table.

“So, you can’t shoot your gun, Kirishima-san?” you speak, your voice tight, a pleased, almost taunting tone.

Kirishima stills, embarrassment bubbling in his chest as you drop the booklet onto the table, exposing his military history to him and you.

“...no,” Kirishima answers truthfully.

The lawyer shifts from the other side of you, his eyebrows scrunching as he too comes across that piece of information.

“He won’t use firearms?” the lawyer scoffs, his semi-permanent frown deepening. “How will we know that he will keep Y/n completely safe from any sort of danger that may come her way? We’ll be paying six months for a glorified security guard? We want a bodyguard.”

“And we clearly have one,” you snap back, your eyes narrowing. “If my bodyguard isn’t Kirishima-san, I’m not getting one. I mean, isn’t that what you said earlier?”

“When we were assuming that the person Toshinori was assigning to your case was a well-rounded bodyguard. Not one that was still clearly haunted by his past.”

Fuck, that one hurt.

You scowled, your head tilting as you bared your teeth slightly, “And what? He managed to get into the best agency in all of Japan in spite of that. Sounds like he’s competent. I already told you I won’t take on a team, just one individual. I trust in Toshinori-san’s guidance and his choice in picking Kirishima-san. If you disagree, that’s too bad for you.”

“Y/n! Please stop this! You’re being ridiculous!” Kimiko huffed, slamming her own booklet down, her eyes drowning with her exhaustion. “I’m so sorry, Toshinori-san, Kirishima-san.”

“H-Hey, it’s okay!” Kirishima immediately imputed, his hands raising in a sign of retreat. “I know that Y/n has always enjoyed her independence as a solo star, and how me being involved now is imposing, especially after multiple attacks.”

Kirishima felt that his smile was a bit strained, a bit too forced, especially as your eyes hawked onto him. He felt like you were examining him, like a lab rat going through its initial trial and not knowing just what was to be expected.

“Six months?” you spoke, your gaze not leaving Kirishima’s own.

“Six months,” Kirishima agreed.

You hum, your head nodding. “Fine, six months tops unless the Lieutenant Colonel can apprehend these assholes faster.”

It had been ages since Kirishima had been called by his title, and for some reason, he found himself blushing. His mouth, for the first time this entire meeting, curled into a wolfish grin.

“You got it.”

The lawyer groaned, entirely aggravated and insulted. He stood up, “You’re asking to be murdered, Y/n. Don’t come haunting me when you end up dead and mutilated. You deserve all the shit you’re getting.”

Kirishima watched with his lips parted in a bewildered expression as the lawyer walked out of the room with a loud slam of the door.

You were unfazed, and Kimiko groaned, exhausted and embarrassed as she mumbled a weak, sullen, “I am so, so sorry, Toshinori-kun.”

“Ah, Kimiko-chan, it’s okay!” Toshinori shook his head and smiled knowingly. It wasn’t as if the long time famous bodyguard hadn’t seen his fair share of childish fights between clients. “Thank you for coming as always, and we’ll do our best to make sure that Y/n is in the best of hands.”

“Thank you… and so, the rest of the contract?”

“Ah, yes, let’s continue.”

So, the contract was discussed to full detail.

For six months, Kirishima would be attached to your side. He must always remain at most three meters away from you when there is no one around, and during fan interactions no more than one meter. He had a full say about your safety. If things got rough, you were to follow his every command. Your agency would pay for his room and lodging. He was to wear black pants and a black long-sleeved cotton tee. He would be working with every venue, every hotel, every conventions security team. He would lead them and never leave your side. He was to be awake an hour before you, rest when you were asleep so long as it was safe to do so. He was your guardian angel of sorts, and you would do nothing but adhere to him.

Most importantly, according to Kimiko, there was one thing they were hoping for: Kirishima's help and discretion. For the next six months, they would be relying on Kirishima’s support to figure out who the group behind the assault was and who the mastermind was behind it all is.

Or so the contract said.

“Y/n!” Kirishima called when the papers were signed, and the day he was set to start was printed. He will begin tomorrow. “Wait!”

You stopped at the door, Kimiko and Toshinori chatting merrily between them as they exited the conference room, Toshinori’s booming voice asking if it was true that Kimiko was attending to a near forty clients to which she bashfully admitted to. You were dressed in a creme knit long-sleeved shirt, faded ripped jeans, and a pair of nude heels. The heels were big, undoubtedly giving you inches, but you still barely got to his shoulder.

“I-I’m looking forward to looking — I mean working with you!”

You looked at him closely, your eyes dragging to the top of his toes to the tallest spike in his hair before your lips pulled into a contemplative pout. You looked back to his eyes, and you steeled over, your head tilting to the side.

“I mean no offense, Sergeant, I thank you for doing your job, but I have no intention of looking forward to working with you. I don’t want you here, so do your best to ignore the contract and realize that I am the most important person, so you will follow my demands.”

Kirishima can do nothing but stare as you turn on your heel and leave.

Well, so much for a good case.

Date: 5/2 Time: 14:00 Location: Tokyo Music Stadium

If you would have told Kirishima Eijirou that he had been working for the grand, the perfect, the fantastic music idol Y/n for a month now, two months ago, he would have laughed so hard he’d cry. Not only would he have not believed it, but he would only think of a million and two scenarios where he would go the entire day flirting.

Now a month into knowing you, of being your bodyguard on a contract for six months, Kirishima could say that of that entire thought, the only thing he had been right about was that he was, in fact, crying. Not only has he never managed to speak an entire conversation with you despite being attached to your hip seven days a week, but despite your much shorter stature, you had managed to get away from him.

You always managed to sneak away from him.

Kirishima could admit that the no more than five meters rule had been wholly and utterly demolished.

And now, Kirishima was crying, not out of joy, but of pure manly fear as he raced through the backstages of the stadium, desperate to find your short-ass anywhere.

“Go, Kirishima!” someone yelled as Kirishima whizzed past him, “Find Y/n!”

“T-Thank you!” Kirishima screamed as he continued onward, the yellow-lit concrete hallway seemingly haunting the further he went into it. The earpiece in his left ear shrilled, the telling sign he was getting a call. Putting a finger to the circle in his ear, he answered the car. “Hello?!”

“Ah, Kirishima-san!” Kimiko’s voice chirped on the other side of the line. “Wonderful to hear your voice again! I’m calling to let you know that the tour bus is parked outside of the venue now. The concert was a smashing success, and she’s come out unharmed for the past month! To make matters even better, since your arrival, there have been no more assault attempts! Oh, um, sorry, where are you guys?”

“We’re just, um!” Kirishima tried not to pant into the microphone; he was still racing ahead, his head peeking into every door and room he passed. “Y/n needed to use the restroom?!”

“Oh, wonderful. Okay! Let me know when you two are on your way over!”

“Ya, okay, bye!”

“By—”

Kirishima hung up as he crashed through the doors at the end of the hallway.

It was night out right now, the full moon reflecting down on the dirty concrete with the same intensity as the streetlamps overhead. And in the middle of a crowd of around twenty people was the person Kirishima was trying to find: you.

You were still dressed in the final costume change of your concert. Even from a distance, Kirishima could see the glitter and highlight on the tip of your nose and the curve of your cheekbones. The crowd around you was clearly not hostile. Each face was bright with broad smiles and sparkling with fresh tears, each voice high and pitchy as if they were talking with some goddess and not you.

There was a slight longing in Kirishima’s chest at the sight of you interacting with your fans, your smile was so beautiful, and he wished just for a moment that he was the one that it was directed towards. If he had met you as a fan, and only a fan, he wonders if you would look at him as you did the others. Would he see the pure joy in the depths in your eyes, the love, wonder, and pride as they asked you questions and answered your own?

He wanted to be just a fan.

“Y/n, the tour bus is here,” Kirishima finally found his voice, the tenor of his voice spreading through the narrow alleyway. “Say your goodbyes.”

He had to ignore the way you stiffened immediately, the unsolicited joy in your face breaking and becoming bleak as you met his gaze. Kirishima absolutely did not feel pressure behind his eyes when you rolled your eyes and began to say your goodbyes; he did not!

The group of fans waved goodbye as you walked backward toward Kirishima; you didn’t stop waving and continuing your parting conversations with the group until the metal doors of the stadium doors closed behind the two of you. Kirishima let out a sigh, his eyes closing for a brief moment before looking down at you. You were expressionless, eyes cold as you looked dead ahead.

“You’re not supposed to run away like that.”

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t tell me what to do, Sergeant.”

“You know I can’t do that it’s not—”

“Part of your contract. Yeah, I know, but that’s your contract, not mine.”

“Oh, okay. Um, Kimiko? ...yeah, we’re heading out now. Five minutes, till.”

And then there’s only silence.

Neither Kirishima nor you bother talking the entire walk towards the tour bus, and you ignore Kimiko’s call that your lawyer would be meeting briefly before tomorrow's fan signing event. You walk into the bus and go directly to the beds, throwing yourself into the terribly padded bunk and passing out without so much as a sound.

Kirishima sinks into his own bed, it’s too small for him, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Sleep overcomes him easily these days; he’s always way too exhausted in chasing you down like some spoiled toddler you’re behaving like to dream. But that’s okay, he thinks as the comfort of sleep begins to dig its skeleton fingers into his side, at least the exhaustion stops the night terrors.

Date: 5/3 Time: 10:00 Location: Tokyo Music Tower

Now, Kirishima knew that it was a common belief and a nearly proven theory that when you met your idols, you should never ever have your expectations high on who they are as a person. Celebrities were out of touch, cruel, rude, nearly jaded. They weren’t exactly the common folk. With people willing to forget things like them being human beings themselves or the common thread of celebrities being too rich to care, any type of famous person was cold, rude, and ruthless.

He knew that.

He also knew that you weren’t like the nearly proven theory.

You were kind, sweet, a practical angel to anyone who dared to approach you. You were the exception to the rule, an outlier to them all. You spoke politely to all your fans, domestic and foreign, and you treated each fan like the most special person in the world.

You were a good person.

But Kirishima knew, just as you reacted to any cruel person you encountered, you had an edge. Your words were as vicious as your name was known. He genuinely enjoyed watching you put assholes into place, but he sulked, knowing he was always at the receiving end of the sharp, bitter tongue of yours.

For a month and a day now, he had been the number target of your bitter words and scorching hate, but he admitted that he enjoyed it when it wasn’t directed at him, if but a little bit.

“I’m not renegotiating my contract!” you groan, your palms slamming into the depths of your eyes. “I already told you that I don’t need all that money!”

“And I’m telling you that you need to increase the wages that you pay the rest of your team instead of all those charities or else people will begin dropping you!” the lawyer countered with similar fire, his scowl angry enough that Kirishima felt like he had to tear his gaze away from this horrible battle. “You won’t be the best of the best forever, y/n, get over your stupid savior act and look over the changes!”

Kirishima looked over at you, his eyebrows pinching as he watched you fold your arms, your cheeks pushed out to a puff as you looked at the stack of papers with the title page fully covered with the word Contract of Y/n and Co. on it. Well, it seemed that the rumor of you spending your paycheck on things that weren’t you was right, how entirely manly.

“Oh fuck off,” you growl, pushing out of the chair and storming away.

Kirishima glanced over at Kimiko, who was looking pale and exhausted, undoubtedly exhausted from the past thirty-minute battle between the lawyer and the idol that neither made a single step forward nor a step back. How you had the energy to fight so passionately was beyond him. Kimiko nodded minimally, her lips parting in a sigh as Kirishima stood up and followed after her.

“The only way that brat is going to listen is by force,” the lawyer sneered, his voice fading into the room that Kirishima exited. “If that’s how she wants to play, so be it.”

Fortunately for Kirishima, he catches up to you. There are tears of fury dripping down your cheeks, and he feels unable to speak as he discovers a new layer to you.

...how interesting.

“It’s my money,” you speak, but Kirishima is unsure if those words are meant for him or for the void, the earth that you would much rather converse with than him. “I already pay them all a much greater paycheck than they should be getting considering their client pool. Why do I have to bend to their stupid will when I’m the one making the money.”

Kirishima blinks, wondering just what people might want to raise with their contracts. But, he knew you were right. By her account, Kimiko had a client list of many successful individuals, and he may not know anything about the lawyer, but if he worked with Y/n, his name must be good. Guess they weren’t like you.

“People are selfish assholes,” was the only thing that Kirishima could think of, and was something he spoke before he could stop himself.

But you stop in your storm, the anger that clouded you somewhat dissipating, clearing just enough for you to turn to him, your sharp, beautiful eyes for the first time filled with rage that was not pointed at him, and an emotion that made him think of… amusement?

“Yeah,” you agree, a half-smile cracking onto your face, and Kirishima feels his soul begin leaving his very body. “People are selfish assholes, huh?”

“Very much.”

There’s a calm, a snorted chuckle, and Kirishima finds himself stumbling further into the abyss of his feelings for you.

The next ten hours seem to pass in a blur, Kirishima feeling like he was on Cloud Nine as he stood behind you, three meters as he watched fan after fan approach you. Signatures were made, pictures were taken, and Kirishima found that he never once had to approach.

Maybe, he thinks, just perhaps, the two of you can overcome this.

Ten minutes after the official signing is done, Kirishima can’t find you, and he curses loudly into the echoing floor.

So much for change.

Date: 5/17 Time: 23:00 Location: The Parking Lot - Mt. Lady Studios

Kirishima was, for the lack of better words, completely fucking done with you.

Don’t get it wrong, he still was a complete and massive fan of yours. He would never once betray his loyalty to you and your musical career, but he was slowly starting to realize just why the lawyer was set to dying of a heart attack any time soon. Despite your early entrance to stardom and the stuff of legends, you had kept your fiery, stubborn individualism.

Kirishima thought it was absolutely hot and sexy at times, especially the times where you strut around in revealing clothes because ‘this is your body,’ or the lingerie campaign you completed two days ago as part of some fundraising event. There were significant perks to your strong handle and claim to keeping your indestructible personality, but it came back to rub them all back in the worst of ways when once again, you escaped from Kirishima’s side.

To be fair, most of the time, Kirishima was a very level headed individual; he was near impossible to rile up despite popular initial belief. I mean, he was good friends with Bakugou Katsuki, who riled up just about anyone he talked to! He needed to have steel calm emotions, or at the very least portray that he does. But even the unbreakable after tireless attempts can, at times, be broken.

It had been a hard morning.

Kirishima had woken up in a panic, the sweat of his night terror soaking through the sheets of his bed, and his head felt like lead. They had been in the tour bus for the entire day because you were going from the tip of Japan to the bottom of it, thus meaning that you couldn’t run away from him, concluding that when he went to bed that night, he was merely tired, not exhausted.

“K...Kiri...shima?” the voice whispered in his ears when he bolted from his bed and tumbled to the ground, his chest heaving in his panic as he cried.

He only slept for four hours that night, the ghost of his comrade haunting him too much for him to ever drift back to sleep. The only thing he was grateful for when he stumbled down to the hotel lobby for breakfast was that he had an attack while in his own room and not in a tour bus with ten others.

But the lack of sleep and the twisting of his guts from his still unburied memories meant that his exhaustion was dialed up larger than he thought was capable. Today was an interview day plus a miniconcert at said interview.

That meant that for an hour before your interview and two hours afterward, Kirishima lost you and had to hunt you down. You weren’t making it easy on him and had started moving with the crowd you gathered to evade him.

But today, Kirishima was exhausted.

Today, Kirishima wanted to sleep.

Today… Kirishima broke.

“Let’s go,” Kirishima spoke in a low, commanding voice. His eyes were hooded as he looked down at you, the crowd of fans parting like the red sea as he stands behind you, larger than life, imposing.

You ignore him.

“We’re leaving, now.”

“Aw, did you make that just for me?! This beading is gorgeous!”

To be fair, Kirishima isn’t really sure if he’s crying right now or if steam is protruding from his ears like some stupid cartoon. The only thing he knows is that it's been a bit longer than a month, and his client is the most perfect person in the world except to him and some lawyer. All he knows is that he has been continuously mocked, shamed, and disrespected by his client, and at this moment, with his mind and body aching with the memories of the morning, he can no longer stop the tsunami of emotions and thoughts that shove out of him.

He grabs your wrist and begins pulling you away.

“We’re leaving now, sorry to disrupt your time. Come see Y/n another day.”

Kirishima isn’t even aware of your screams, the banging of your small fist against his back as his hand encompasses your bicep easily. He walks and walks and walks until he stops, his mind slightly put back into place.

“—FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?! LET GO OF ME, SERGEANT!”

Oh, right.

He lets go of you immediately and nearly snorts at how you stumble into his back. So small, so delicate, and so completely weak.

“You want to know my problem, y/l/n?” he asks, voice eerily calm, much calmer than he actually is. “My fucking problem is that I signed onto this case with a single rule: keep you in sight and protect you. It’s simple, almost too easy, isn’t it? But easy and simple is everything that this assignment is!”

Your face contorted into a flash of anger and embarrassment, your nose scrunching as you found your footing, “And I told you that I don’t give a crap about that contract! I didn’t want it in the first place, but no one listens to me!”

Kirishima snorts, his body shifting so that he can look at you properly; your face is seething, your teeth bared and eyes wild, but Kirishima has faced worse.

“It’s not in my contract to listen to you, unfortunately,” Kirishima points out, his eyes narrowing. “I would have a better time listening to you, trying to find an agreement that worked if you used that brain of yours and figured out a way to compromise with me.”

“Compromises aren’t—”

“You think I wouldn’t?” Kirishima almost whines, his voice tight with emotions, fingers fisting in his hair, “You really fucking think that after a month and how many days of me spending stupid hours trying to find your ass, most of the time never knowing if you’re dead or not, I wouldn’t want a better solution?!”

“Like hell they’ll kill me! And if they do, I don’t fucking care!” you stubbornly insist, finger buried against the swell of your chest.

“Oh my god,” Kirishima can’t stop the bitter laugh from escaping, “you’re ridiculous.”

“I’m ridiculous?! I’m not the ridiculous one here!” you cry, your eyes bursting with unshed, bitter tears. “So what that I run away from you? Can you imagine living the past ten years of your life trying to be something that the media wants you to be? No! You can’t, Sergeant! Those times where I’m running away isn’t to be some dick, but to give me time to be me!”

“You’re a goddamn idiot!” Kirishima barks, his anger curdling in his chest like a raging fire. “If you had looked at my damn file correctly, instead of focusing on the stupid shit like me not being able to fire my gun correctly, you would be more than aware of the fact that you are one of my favorite artists!”

“Wh-”

“I am one of the best in my company! I am easy to get along with, personal, manageable, flexible even, but from the very first moment you laid eyes on me, you’ve hated me! You talk down on me, you shit on me, my job, the reason I’m here! Listen, I would fucking love to be anywhere but here right now. I have literally never hated my job before, but you just made that a reality. But the worst part of this all is the fact that you seem to think I would have kept you away, prohibited you from doing things that I already know you love! You stand there and tell me that I would try to force you to do shit you don’t want when I have merely been asking for you to take me there with you! I don’t care if I have to stand away and watch, but I want to be there! I’m supposed to be protecting you, but you’re being nothing more than a stubborn brat who refuses to see the efforts I’m trying to make, and frankly, I’m done.”

Kirishima’s chest is burning with the lack of oxygen, his eyes narrowed and filled with raging fire as he stares down at you, his neck craned so that he could be closer, more daunting, intimidating.

“Fuck o-off,” you snap suddenly, a lone tear, your voice tight and shoulders tense as you storm off.

“So predictable,” Kirishima calls after you, but it’s not filled with the previous anger he had but the sinking misery and regret.

And for a moment, it’s quiet.

Until a single name is screamed.

“SERGEANT!”

And then the all too familiar sound of a fist colliding with skin.

The anger in Kirishima’s blood evaporates immediately, and horror sinks in as he turns towards where you had stormed off. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

The parking lot is filled with an ugly yellow light that seems to set the stage for what was to come down. His footsteps crashing down against the black pavement were mute in his ears, and his eyes were focused on your limp body slung over somebody's shoulder. There was one person behind him, the other one already hopping into a van; Kirishima was the devil on their heels.

“Come on! Let’s go!” the one in the van screamed, his voice full of gruff apprehension and fear.

The van turns on.

Kirishima grunts, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he sidesteps the man who was lingering behind the one carrying you and quickly slams his shoulder into the man's sternum, knocking him out the moment he collapses onto the ground.

He lets out a roar of such, his eyes glowing with anger and a single mind track to take down the person who held you, ready to throw your unconscious body into the back of the van.

Kirishima doesn’t even know when he manages to get to the man's side, one hand on his shoulder, the other on you, and with the strength and anger of a million fighting warriors, he ripped you from his hold and sent him stumbling into the trunk. Your shallow breathing brushes against his neck, and Kirishima is hyper-aware of the cursing men who chose to abandon their unconscious comrade on the floor.

With his arms filled by your unconscious body, Kirishima can only watch the van scurry out of the lot, the license plate immediately burning into his mind.

T082-23

When the man on the floor finally wakes up, he’s in police custody, and you’re just waking up. There's a bruise on your cheek, and you begin crying immediately.

Kirishima watches from the distance, his heart aching and guilt climbing up his throat as he watches Kimiko hold you close, her arms warm and tight.

Well, shit.

So much for the month of no attacks.

Kirishima sits in a waiting room, his head relaxed against the wall as he waits for your discharge from the hospital. They suspect a concussion, and they’re running some tests right now. The police are there too, trying to get information from you on the failed kidnapping attempt as well as beginning the initial trials of interrogation of the abandoned kidnapper with a broken sternum, ruptured spleen, and three cracked ribs.

He was not surprised when the police officers came to talk to him, and he gave them the license plate.

But they also gave him an essential piece of information.

(“Well, when we asked for a motive, it seemed that it wasn’t his idea,” the detective admitted, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “His boss said that, and I quote, Y/n will end up dead and mutilated as is deserved. She deserves all the shit she has coming her way, end quote. Any ideas of who it could be”

Kirishima rubbed a hand across his face, the words striking a bit too familiarly to him, but from where. He shook his head, his eyes focusing on his bouncing knee.

“Thank you,” Kirishima said, his tone pointed in a clear indicator that this conversation was now over. The detective nodded, his frown slight as he left. The moment he was gone, Kirishima pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Kimiko? Yeah, I think we might have our first suspect.”)

For now, he was waiting for you.

An hour passed before you shuffled into the waiting room. There was a bandage on your swollen cheek, but besides the obvious attack, your eyes looked strong, and it seemed like there was no concussion.

“I should be fine,” you speak first, your jaw tensing as if it physically pained you to speak (whether it was because you hated talking to him or because of the injury, Kirishima had no idea). “I will be fine; I just need some sleep.”

Kirishima nodded, his body completely exhausted, and his mind filled with nothing but regrets on how he handled his anger earlier. He needed to apologize. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but he had definitely crossed a few too many lines.

“Should we go?”

You chewed on your lip, your eyes looking down at the white tiled floors of the hospital — so bleak, so anxiety driving.

“I actually wanted to talk before we left.”

Oh?

“Of what, if I may ask?”

Your eyes raise back up before looking away again, “the contract.”

Kirishima finds himself nodding, his hand gesturing towards the empty seat in front of him.

“Sure.”

And with a heaving sigh that sounds like you were on the verge of tears, you sit before him.

The contract was then discussed.

It was decided that you could continue to interact with fans as you wish, so long as you took Kirishima with you. He didn’t care about the long hours, the manic fans, or the impending doom of a group of people who meant business. He needed to be there.

Everything else stayed the same, but Kirishima looked at you one last time that night in the hospital, his body leaning towards you as he did his best to keep his face void of emotion and any lingering teasing.

“I’ll only accept this new negotiation on one term.”

“W-What?!” you pause, thinking. “Fine, say it.”

“From here on out, I think we should be friends, yeah? I’m on your side, after all, it’s a bit weird if we stay just acquaintances.”

The tension and horror leave your body, and Kirishima, for the first time ever, bears witness to the most relaxed, meaningful smile he has ever seen you give. It had been one hell of a shitty night, but at that very moment when the seventh turned into the eighth, Kirishima felt a new warmth flood through his chest, his heart racing at the sight of your glorious smile.

“Of course, Kirishima.”

“Oh, and y/n?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry about all that I said. It was unmanly of me and out of line.”

“It’s okay. To be fair, I was a bit of a self-absorbed brat, too.”

The next day, a picture of Kirishima holding you bridal style is trending.

Date: 6/12 Time: 19:00 Location: Hime Onsen

An Interview with Y/n | Vogue Japan 4.5 million views • Premiered 2 hours ago 874k [liked this] 12.3k [disliked this] Timestamp: 05:32 / 10:33

[Interviewer]: Now, Y/n, we must congratulate you on your latest achievement! Your latest self-titled album, ‘Y/N,’ has been nominated for a record high of twelve awards for the upcoming Japan Record Awards, which will be coming up in about a month! Tell us how you feel about this?

[You]: It was quite a surprise actually! I didn’t realize that it would have done so well in the critic's eyes to get this type of award. I am proud of myself and am excited to see all the other amazing artists and musicians who were nominated as well.

[Interviewer]: Now, your album is all about staying true to yourself, whether that be in love or war. It depicts your own highs and lows while also highlighting beautifully universal things many of us face. Without question, you have always been adamant on staying connected with your fans and keeping a simple rule: no bodyguards.

[Y/n]: Oh, (laughs) yes! That is definitely a new thing, huh?

[Interviewer]: A new thing and a beautiful thing at that, too! Look here!

[captioner notes: interviewer displays many photos of Y/n’s bodyguard, including the most famous one where he’s holding y/n after the failed kidnapped attempt]

[Interviewer]: This is a beautiful — don’t giggle! — a beautiful man, Y/n! What do you have to say for yourself?! Did you finally succumb to keeping untrue to yourself for this beautiful man?! If so, it is perfectly acceptable. By chance, is your contract with him done? I would personally love to have this man on my team.

[Y/n]: (laughing) By all means, take him! (Y/n looks behind her, her bodyguard is there) I’m kidding, I’m kidding! (pauses) No, actually, sorry. Kirishima is an outstanding bodyguard, and I have no intentions of leaving him so soon. Uh, while I did say I had no wish or intentions to have a bodyguard, obviously that was not the best solution, so I hired Kirishima. He is a wonderful addition to my team and still allows me to be authentically me, so it’s still all good.

[Interviewer]: Ah, okay, well, Kirishima-kun, if you ever need a new client, call me. But moving on, yes! Would you like to discuss the series of increasingly concerning attacks?

Kirishima stood in the softly lit hallways of a sauna.

Today was one of the last remaining days you had off, and in celebration of your upcoming award season, you had decided that it was mandatory to visit the hot springs. Everyone on your team — the backup dancers, band, and hair and makeup — were ecstatic to learn that they were being involved with it too.

This high-end resort had accommodated your entire team to receive their own private spring with an all-inclusive menu too.

It was thanks from the owner for the free PR and, of course, because they were some of your biggest fans. So, in thanks, everyone got to enjoy the springs.

Well, everyone but Kirishima, that was.

As of the past month, things between Kirishima and you had improved a lot.

With Kirishima no longer needing to run a marathon daily to find where you were, he would find himself walking at your side. He no longer felt like you hated him. There was respect and actual friendship between the two of you. You joked with him, showed him memes and TikTok, sent him snapchat streaks, and invited him to watch weird shows with you. You even complained to him about the things that annoyed you, namely Kimiko’s attention being stolen by other clients and the rude conversations you would have with the lawyer.

It made Kirishima’s chest warm up knowing that you were friends now.

A stressful month had passed into a friendlier one.

But there were some things that Kirishima would not have expected to… arise.

Namely you growing to be comfortable enough to walk around with nothing but a thin pair of panties and a large shirt. You curling into his side whenever you watched a show together in the bus, the way your lips brushed against his neck when he leaned down to hug you, or the very so not obvious teasing you would do when you changed in front of him. It was as if you were watching his every reaction, enjoying the way that his eyes horribly tore away, or the silent hitch in his throat whenever you speed his heart up.

The biggest surprise arose the night after the failed kidnapping attempt:

You had come to his room, hours after you were supposed to have fallen asleep.

Your eyes were sunken, still a bit tired, and the bruise on your cheek was looking bad. In your arms was a white binder undoubtedly filled with the introductory packet you had received at your initial meeting. Kirishima had opened the door in his sleepy state in nothing but gym shorts. He had barely started dozing off, his mind wouldn’t stop thinking of what could have happened if you hadn’t managed to scream, and so he kept tossing and turning.

Seeing you outside of his room, his head dropped down to look at you properly, and his fist rubbing at his eye fell, “Y/n?”

“Did I wake you?” you asked, your face filled with a shocked, near uncomfortable, and embarrassed expression he doesn’t recall ever seeing on you. “I’m so sorry! I’ll wait until—”

“No,” Kirishima grunts while he shakes his head, his voice raspy and dry from his lack of use. “I’ve been tossing and turning, um, what is it? Do you want to come in?”

“I-If that’s okay?”

Kirishima breathes out a bit, his shoulders relaxing as he smiles softly, “Come on, let’s talk about what’s on your mind.”

The door clicked behind your tentative steps with an echo, and Kirishima watched as you walked into the hotel room with wariness and caution.

“Would you like some tea?” Kirishima offered, picking up a shirt from his dresser and pulling it over his body. The fabric was tight against his chest and shoulders, but felt more appropriate to wear around you.

“No, I’m okay,” you politely decline.

You stood in the center of the room, unsure of where to sit, stand, or lay.

“Go ahead and make the bed,” Kirishima offered, taking the chair by the desk. “I promise it’s still clean.”

You laugh slightly, smile strained but grateful as you sit at the edge of the bed, binder resting on your lap.

“Thanks, I wouldn’t want to sit on a dirty bed,” you joke, but it sounds weak to Kirishima’s ears.

“So, what questions do you have?”

“Hm?”

“You have my portfolio,” he shrugs, leaning forward so that his forearms rest on his knees. “I have a feeling you have some questions.”

“Oh, right,” you whisper, your eyebrows scrunching as you open the binder to the first page, but your eyes are focused on the desk. “What’s the medication for?”

Kirishima turns his head to follow your gaze and comes across the yellow tinted medicine containers.

“My PTSD,” Kirishima answers honestly, his voice soft with emotion, but there was no shame in it. “My service had a difficult end.”

“That’s actually… that’s what I came to talk about,” you rush, your hands slamming the binder closed. “If you don’t want to talk about it, obviously I won’t push it! God, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s okay,” Kirishima interrupted, his smile sad, but he stood up, his body a tower in front of yours as he urged you to sit back down. “It’s okay; I don’t mind talking about it.”

“B-But what if I say something that makes it all worse?”

A pause.

“Then I’ll tell you that it’s too much.”

A nod.

“Are you… are you still experiencing a lot of symptoms?” you ask, your fingers tightening and untightening around the binder.

“Some days are worse than others,” Kirishima admits, his shoulders shrugging. “I don’t experience much anxiety while in crowds anymore; I don’t have many flashbacks to those days anymore, not since February at least. I do still get… I still get night terrors and dream of that day. It’s nowhere near as bad as the first few months after the accident, but it’s still here.”

“What happened?” you asked after a bit, morbidly curious.

The file had all the details that proved Kirishima to be a master of firearms during his entire time on the force. He was a powerful combatist, and his ranking was a clear indicator of the respect and skills he had. Still, it was the quick honorable discharge, the near year-long hospitalization, and the current inability to use a firearm that concerned you.

What had happened?

“I was involved in a grenade explosion on my last day on tour. I was the only one who managed to survive the blast,” Kirishima easily stated, his voice quiet.

“Oh my god, I… holy shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, it’s all good. There were only two others around, and one of them was already dead.”

“Was that um, Major—”

“We called him Crimson Riot, actually,” Kirishima smiled, a chuckle light on his tongue as he leaned back onto the chair, nodding. “Yeah, that was him.”

“Crimson Riot,” you repeat, nodding. “Did you watch him… watch him die?”

Kirishima presses his lips tightly together, and for a moment, you’re unsure if he’s going to cry, answer you, or tell you to leave. There’s a whirlwind of emotions on your optimistic and typically jubilant bodyguard despite your asshole tendencies that make your stomach twist.

“Yes,” Kirishima finally answers, and you nod.

It’s hours into the morning before you finally depart back to your room, the horrors of Kirishima’s past still pounding into your ears. Kirishima wouldn’t notice, and neither would you, but on his shirt and yours, there’s a few drops of tears the both of you shed when you said goodnight.

Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou, while on an active warzone, had accidentally struck and killed his superior officer, his friend, his role model Crimson Riot, thinking that he was nothing more than an enemy target as he sat wounded behind a wall. He died on his lap, and as someone came to help, a grenade landed two meters away before detonating.

“K...Kiri...shima?” Crimson Riot had whispered as he fell to his knees, blood gushing and seeping through his clothes, spilling onto Kirishima’s lap. “I’ll be okay.”

For whatever reason, since that night, Kirishima felt something in him shift. He still took his medication, still had his virtual therapy sessions when he could fit them in, and even had painful night terrors of that moment, but it was becoming less frequent.

He wasn’t made of glass.

There had been more instances after the kidnapping attempt, but unlike the last times, Kirishima was prepared. He had stopped each one, keeping you safe and sound. As of one week ago, he had officially been given a firearm to keep strapped to his thigh at all times now.

It was an unfamiliar weight, one that still twisted his stomach and made him nervous, but he knew the reason why it was needed. Since the gun had been added to his gear, the attacks stopped. He was definitely not ready to be firing it anytime soon, but it had deterred the attackers for the time being.

Kirishima paused when he heard his earpiece ring, and he dropped his phone where he had been watching your interview despite being there himself.

“Talk to me,” Kirishima answered, his finger pressing the accept button.

“Kirishima!” came the distressed voice of Kimiko, “We just got a tip!”

Kirishima stilled, his eyes scanning the empty hallways that stretched throughout the private hot springs.

“I don’t know, but a person with connections with this mastermind said something about how there were two more events he was staging. Today is one of them!”

Kirishima’s eyes widened, his lips parting to answer Kimiko when instead there was a large, loud crash in the water from inside your room. He assumed the worst.

“Y/n!” Kirishima shouted, hands throwing open the sliding door and racing through the storage room, the shower, and exited out into the hot spring.

Steam curled through the wind, the white wisps of steam feeling warm and light against Kirishima’s skin, and Kirishima panicked when he couldn’t see your shadow or figure in the hot springs.

“Where is she?! Is she alright?!” Kimiko panicked, her voice panicking already. “I’ll call the—”

Kirishima turned on his heel, ready to complete a full sweep of the outdoor hot spring when he crashed into something smaller than he was… smaller, softer, and definitely the shape of a woman. Kirishima felt his entire body stiffen when his rough palms felt the undeniable feeling of wet, warm skin.

“Oh my god,” he heard you shriek. “KIRISHIMA!”

“She’s all good, Kimiko,” Kirishima stifled out, his voice tight, his head slamming backward so that his eyes were concentrated on the starry night sky.

“...sorry… uh aha! Another client of mine is calling, goodbye!” Kimiko’s apology was meek and small before she hung up.

Kirishima’s mind was racing a mile a minute, but his body was frozen, unmoving like a rock when he realized that pressing to his stomach was, without a doubt, your breasts.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What are you doing in here, pervert?!” you splutter, your hands pressing to his stomach as you step away. “Are you a pervert or something?!”

“I, no! No! Of course not! Fuck, shit, I’m so sorry! I’ll go! There was a tip that something was going to happen right now, and there was a crash and—”

“What are you looking at?” you exclaim, squeaky frustration heavy on your tongue. “There’s nothing wrong with the sky! Look me in the eyes? Have you never been to a co-ed hot spring before?!”

“Y-Yes, sorry!” Kirishima apologized, bowing slightly in apology before he peered down. Still, his face bursted in a flame as he watched the way your jaw dropped in disbelief, the dewy wetness of the hot spring clinging to your body. You were, obviously, soaked, and Kirishima bit his tongue as hard as he could to keep the whimper from expelling past his lips when he saw the light gleaming off your breasts. But he watched your face shift between a million emotions, each one appearing too fast for him to read, too fast to register, but he saw the way a single-arm wrap around your breast and the other shoving into his stomach.

“PERVERT!”

“What?!”

“That was a test! This is my private room! I have the right to not be willing to be looked at right now!” you shrieked as Kirishima spun around, allowing you the complete privacy of his gaze.

“You told me to look at you!” he squawked. “Y-You told me, and I listened because of our contract!”

Kirishima could feel his body trembling, his mind reeling in disbelief that he definitely saw you in your entire nakedness, and if the swirling heat in his stomach had anything to say about it, he liked it. Fuck.

There was a soft laugh and the sound of sloshing water as you probably (he wouldn’t know because he wasn’t looking) reentered the spring.

“I know, I was teasing,” you sing, and he can tell the water is gliding around your body. “Turn around, Kiri, let’s talk.”

“Haha, um, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Kirishima admits, although sitting in this steam-filled space with just you sounds so very nice.

“Why not?” you asked, voice sounding a bit upset.

“I’m supposed to be outside, doing my job?”

“Augh, but these private springs are so boring alone,” your voice whines; the water sloshes, and Kirishima winces at the slight throb on his tongue as he continues to look at not your direction. “Turn around, Kiri.”

Not too long ago, you had taken to calling him Kiri, a subtle change, a not unusual nickname people gave him. But just because it was you, his stomach flipped and twisted, and now with the image of your tits in mind, his dick throbbed.

Gulping, Kirishima turned, his gaze bashfully looking down at you before glancing away. You were chest-deep in the hot springs, tendrils of your wet hair sticking to your neck. Was he dead? Maybe dreaming?

No, his dreams were never like this.

“Do you want to come in?” you continued to ask, your body moving towards him in the water until you reached the edge of the pool, arms testing into the black rocks. “You’re the only one not in one, and since I hate being in these alone, I figured you’d like to join.”

Kirishima wanted to join. More than anything, he wanted to take his clothes off and jump into the springs with you, for you, but that would be unprofessional. Entirely and utterly unprofessional.

“Please?” you ask softly, pleadingly, and Kirishima makes the mistake of locking his gaze with yours.

“...fine, but I’ll be on the other side of the spring,” he concedes, his steps near clumsy and oafish as he stumbles backward to the shower and closet.

“Such a gentleman pervert,” you tease, fingers curling as you wave at him until Kirishima finally closes the door behind him.

The empty room is nearly deafening in its silence and the future as Kirishima slumps against the sliding door, excited apprehension rippling through every cell of his skin as a smile spreads across his face. He walks to the storage room, and despite it being a private room, there were two closets. The closet not already occupying your clothes had the things needed for him, and thankfully, it fit.

He undressed slowly, folding his clothes and placing them into the cubbies. Fully naked, he approached the showers, and under the lukewarm showerhead, he cleaned his body of any grime, dirt, and sweat.

Feeling refreshed and clean, Kirishima began his descent to the hot spring, his heart hammering when his fingers grabbed the handle of the door.

“I’m coming in,” he announced, a healthy amount of fear, excitement, and heat drumming through him.

“I’ll keep my virgin eyes away from your body, don’t worry,” came your slow tease, and Kirishima snorted softly.

Kirishima stepped back out to the hot spring.

Just like the first time, the entrance to the spring was warm, the steam seeming thicker than last time, clouding the outdoor room and his sight. You were at the furthest out part of the pool, your back towards them as you worked your fingers through your scalp.

Discarding his slippers at the edge, Kirishima climbed into the pool.

The pool only went as far as his thigh, and he sank into the warm water. It felt wonderful on his body, relaxing his muscles just enough for him to wonder when was the last time he had managed to visit a hot spring.

“I’m in,” Kirishima said, his arms rising up out of the water, resting onto the black stone. “You can turn around now.”

“God, took you long enough,” you tease, your body twisting so that you were facing him again.

To Kirishima’s complete and utter surprise, you stilled, eyes dragging up and down his exposed chest, eyes locked on the series of tattoos all over his right pectoral, and trailed down his right arm. His lips felt dry as your eyes shifted back to his face, to his arm, and back to him. The smile on your face felt weak, but it sent a spiral of dizzying heat through Kirishima when he noticed the hushed lust.

For a while, the two of you remained at opposite ends of the hot spring. Eyes closed, hummed melodies passing through the song. You asked Kirishima about how he felt, if his medication was due for refills, if therapy was okay (he was doing better, a refill was due in two weeks, and therapy was going the same). He asked you about your relationship with Kimiko, with the lawyer, and if you had any real friends within the music industry (Kimiko was like an older cousin to you, the lawyer was a pain to deal with at times, and surprisingly, you did meet some genuine friends). You questioned how his friends were doing, if he had any contact with them despite their busy schedules.

So Kirishima found himself retelling stories of his coworkers turned close friends. Each story he told left both of you with sore stomachs from laughter, and tears at the corner of your eyes from laughing too hard.

“Was the tip story true?” you asked once the quiet overcame and grew old. You shift through the water, getting a bit closer to Kirishima.

Kirishima coughed, suddenly feeling a tad bit shy about his posture, but decided to keep from moving.

“You honestly think I would have barged into here just because I wanted to see you?”

Truthfully, had Kirishima been a man without morals, chivalry, or disrespect for you, he would have. Definitely would have.

“Let a girl dream,” you smile, like a luring siren as you wander closer by just a step. “It would go against everything I know about you, but it’s fun to tease.”

“You’re a bigger brat than I thought you would be,” Kirishima smiles back, trying his best to not show the way goosebumps were bursting against his skin, his eyes locked on yours, trying to not get distracted by the way your wet skin made his mind spin.

“I don’t think I’m a brat,” you counter, getting close enough that he could feel the currents of the water with your movement. But you were far enough that Kirishima felt like pointing out the fact you disregarded his keep apart rule would be a mistake. “How am I a brat?”

The sound of the water rippling through the springs along with the growing noises of the bugs began a melody around the two of you, and all Kirishima could do was stare at the way you blinked your eyes slowly — like a feline stalking a prey.

“A lot of ways, really,” Kirishima breathes, his heart rising up to his throat as he felt your hands gingerly place themselves on his knees.

“Yeah?” you ask, parting through his naked legs, and Kirishima felt his breathing stop when your exposed chest pressed against his. Your lips were ghosting so far from his but tantalizingly close enough that he felt drunk off your sweet breath. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Kirishima sucked in air, his arms resisting movement, and his eyes glanced down at the way your mouth was millimeters from his. His dick was very much interested in what he could do about it, and when your hands grazed up his thigh and onto his chest, Kirishima could feel something rumble in his chest.

He moved to eliminate the space, but there was a crash in the following spring, pushing you away from him long before he could claim your mouth.

“FUCK!” the person in the opposite spring screamed, and Kirishima’s eyes closed in his muted annoyance as you sighed.

His eyes dropped to the water, giving you the privacy to rise out of the water and make your way over to the wall.

“Jenny, are you okay?” you called.

“Give me a warning the next time you try fucking your hot bodyguard in the middle of a private onsen!”

“We weren’t fucking you prude!”

And with that, Kirishima took this as his embarrassed cue to leave.

He stood at the entrance of your private spring for about twenty minutes, entirely uncomfortable with the still hard dick in his pants, rubbing and chaffing against his jeans as he stood there. Eventually, you exited the hot spring, face glowing from the steam and eyes avoiding his gaze as you walked back to your room. Your robe was tight on your body, the hair on the nape of your neck pressed to your skin.

Kirishima sighed as he watched you enter your room, your smile short as you nodded a simple goodnight before letting the door slam shut behind you.

Rubbing his face, Kirishima listened to the voices in his intercom talk about how nothing had happened tonight. An attempted unwelcome visitor tried to get into your room, but they had stopped him. They didn’t fight, but they had run away the moment they caught on to the fact that they weren’t exactly authentic.

Kirishima sighed as he slumped into his room, collapsing on the too small bed as he found himself looking at the ceiling in deep concentration.

What was he going to do now?

That was undeniably sexual, his still semi-hard dick damning evidence to the known fact that he wanted you. By god did he want you. Wanted you beneath him, over him, splitting yourself down onto his cock while you gripped your arms and legs around him, fucking down onto his driving cock.

Kirishima groaned low in his chest, guilt blooming in the back of his throat as his palm rubbed his pulsing cock.

Bad, Kirishima, bad.

“Kirishima-san?” a voice broke through his earpiece, and Kirishima nearly jumped out of his skin. “Are you there?”

“Hi Kimiko,” Kirishima sighed, his dick deflating instantly. “Everything all right?”

“Ah, yes! Sorry about earlier, the false tip and the sudden abandonment!” Kimiko embarrassingly apologized. “My client was ringing for the fourth time, and while I care deeply for y/n, I had to take it!”

“Mm, no worries, Kimiko,” Kirishima smiled politely despite the lack of visual contact. “How can I help you?”

“Ah, yes,” Kimiko asserted, her tone changing from apology to one of formality. “So, about the visitor incident I’m sure you were brought attention to, it seems that the vehicle they came in was with the driver's plate: T082-23. Does that sound familiar?”

“Not currently,” Kirishima sighed, his body stretching into a sitting up position. “Does it to you?”

“No…” Kimiko admitted, and Kirishima could feel the worried frown on her face. “Well, I just wanted to call and give you that information. It was passed along to me, and they mentioned they hadn’t told you. And since I was going to give you the schedule for the upcoming JRA’s award day, I figured I’d let you know!”

“No problem! Let’s go over the schedule now?”

“Yes! I have a client meeting in America right after this! Can you believe it? An American celebrity wants my help?!”

“That sounds amazing, Kimiko!”

“Okay, so this is how the day’s going to go!”

Date: 7/10 Time: 18:00 Location: Tokyo Hotel Room 101

Kirishima watched as an entire team was getting you dressed up.

Two people were doing your hair, three people doing your nails, one person doing your makeup, and five getting one of your three outfits for the night ready.

According to you, as you had strutted around in these outfits nearly two weeks ago were your red carpet and beginning of the award show outfit, your performance outfit, and of course, the after-party outfit. Each one was different, yet when adorned on your body was a perfect replica of who you were.

Most importantly, the two of you had decided to ignore every single instance of tremendous sexual energy and desire that basically leaked from both of your pores. It was for the best to ignore it. There was no point in pursuing it, especially when there was a known hunt for you, and Kirishima was the last line of defense between you and whoever it was.

Whoever it was, pfft.

Kirishima was willing to bet on who it was already.

Since the night of the initial kidnapping that finally closed the gap between you and Kirishima, there was something that the caught criminal said that stuck with him.

Everything you had coming your way, you deserved, he had said in bitter spite.

The interesting thing was that it was the lawyer who had said that, multiple times at that. The lawyer seemed to have everything to fuel him to rage against you. Everything you said or tried, the lawyer was on your heel, barking at you that it was wrong. Kirishima had also seen the contracts between you and the lawyer, and the amount that he was paid to be your attorney was not large at all.

The mass majority of the funds you earned were always funneled towards charities and organizations you trusted to help people in need — in fact, it was almost 80% of your total earnings. A meek, barely larger than 20% was split between you, your lawyer, Kimiko, your music crew, and any other unforeseen expenses. The lawyer was also in a situation where he was not in demand with clients, and if you weren’t heeding his expensive tag, he needed a new contract with you.

A contract he was always demanding to discuss with you that you denied to change.

Attacks tended to happen days after you and the lawyer tumbled, not enough to rouse suspicion if you weren’t looking, but Kirishima was. He just needed damning evidence now.

Something.

Anything.

And for some reason, his gut was screaming at him that something big was going to happen tonight, that tonight was going to be the last attack—the one to end everything.

So he had told everyone about it. Kimiko, the security at the JRA’s, even you. It made him nervous.

It made his hand sweat, the gun strapped to his thigh feeling like hot iron as he stood about as you laughed with your makeup crew.

Kirishima swore, promised, and vowed he would protect you.

He was going to.

And when the gold dress was tied to your body, fitting you beautifully, Kirishima found himself unable to look away like strands of your hair framed your temples.

“What do you think, Kiri? Will I be on the Best Dressed List?” you asked, tearing Kirishima’s attention away from the bodice and skirt of the dress. Your eyes were bright, hopeful, yearning for a positive reaction from him.

“How could you not be?” Kirishima admitted, his grin toothy, and he shifted against the wall.

“You’ll make me blush,” you grin back, eyes batting just a bit as you clasp your hands together. It takes everything in Kirishima to keep from striding across the space between the two of you and kissing you silly. “Are we ready to go?”

Kirishima wet his lips, unwillingly tearing his gaze from you, and whispers into the intercom.

“Ready to move out?”

“We’re all clear.”

Straightening back up, Kirishima smiled at you, his head motioning towards the door.

“Alright, y/n, let’s see you make some history?”

“Damn right I will.”

Kirishima smiled as he exited first, carving the path for you.

Paparazzi were on you immediately, the lights flashing and terribly bright as he helped you through the throngs of them. His hand pressed to your back as they screamed demands, most of which you complied with until Kirishima stated that you would be late. You, unfortunately, couldn’t be late to the awards show.

Ushering you into the limousine, Kirishima follows in shortly after you, scrunching up in his seat as he sits opposite of you. However, your typical light and bright demeanor are gone; instead, you seem almost anxious as you open your handbag.

“You okay there?” Kirishima asks as he realizes you pulled out a distinctly obvious metal flask.

“Awards make me nervous,” you painfully admit; you're weakly smiling as you knock back a shot of the drink. “I hate winning and losing; the alcohol makes me less… of a wreck. Do you want some? I think it’s apple soju, I don’t know, a good luck gift from Kimiko.”

Kirishima grins, his eyes rolling as he decides to decline the drink. “Sorry, love, I think that I need to be completely sober for today.”

You scrunch your nose, obviously displeased, “Lame, who shows up to these awards sober?”

“Me,” Kirishima laughed, his head tilting back and scraping against the ceiling of the limousine.

“Such a prude, sober, pervert,” you sigh, taking yet another swig before putting the flask back into your bag.

“Such a brat.”

Just like every previous instance, your eyes seem to glow in glee at that name, your lips curling into a pleased smirk as you shrug. It's a sight that makes Kirishima’s mouth dry and heart racing. Fuck, he should not be thinking about fucking you in the limousine right now.

But before the heat in the limousine could simmer to one of undeniable boiling, you had arrived.

Kirishima cleared his throat, sending a quick wink your way as he exited the car first. The first stop was for him to join the lineup to guide you through all the different photo and interview sessions. No one wanted pictures of him emerging from the limo after all.

There's a moment where after Kirishima closes the door, your eyes filled with worry and excitement as he winked goodbye, that things changed. He stood up, his eyes already scanning the area for anything suspicious, when he saw the all too familiar van.

T082-23.

His eyes widened, his head looking around for anyone else, but there was no one to help. No one could do anything as the car continued to drive away, disappearing from Kirishima’s line of sight. His heart hammered in his chest, and his hands instinctively went to his thigh. He had his firearm… he had it.

With nothing but a quick report to the head of security via his com, Kirishima pushed on ahead, waiting for your descent down the red carpet.

When you eventually emerged from the limousine, Kirishima found that at this moment, the entire world faded away as a gloved hand assisted you out of the vehicle. You were elegant, stunning, a realistic vibrant portrait within his world of greys. As you took photos for the cameras, he was by your side a few strides away as you talked to reporters.

You really came to life right now.

You were beautiful.

��For all the pain in the world that she is, she’s quite charming from a distance, huh?” a voice spoke to his side, and Kirishima froze. His eyes widened completely when he noticed that standing beside him was none other than the lawyer.

The lawyer was dressed in a nice suit, glasses perched on his nose, and for the first time Kirishima had seen, the scowl was not quite so hard.

He was here.

Every warning bell sounded in Kirishima’s head.

This was the man he was so sure was the reason behind your every attack. A man fueled by insufficient funding, a need for a new contract that would never be approved without your signature.

“What are you doing here?” Kirishima asked, subtlety never being something he was ever good with. “I’ve never seen you anywhere except to argue with Y/n about contracts. This doesn’t seem like the appropriate time to be discussing it.”

“Kimiko wanted me to give her a new contract proposal to give to y/n. However, to be fair, it’s quite easy for anything to come down to an argument with y/n,” he shrugs, and Kirishima watches a cloud of emotions pass between the man’s eyes. “At least between her and me, we’ve never gotten along, but I suppose that’s how it is for any type of family who works together.”

Wait.

“What?! Family member?!”

“Yes, I know it’s strange to believe. I am quite ugly, and she is not, but we’re family.”

Kirishima’s mind was racing now. It didn’t make sense. If he was family, why would he be in such pursuit of potentially murdering you? If you were family, he was sure that you would help out? If he needed a raise like he thought, wouldn’t you have helped?

There was no way you wouldn’t.

Was he wrong?

Who was it?

“Kiri!” your voice broke into his mind and tore him back to reality. You waved at him, then passed a stuck-out tongue to the lawyer in a teasing fashion. “Let’s go in?”

Kirishima looked over at the lawyer who greeted a woman, who was also walking down the red carpet, a celebrity he could name no less, with a warm kiss.

Oh fuck.

He needed to call Kimiko; he was so very wrong.

You had won two awards so far, and at this very moment, Kirishima was being ushered back to his seat in the audience as you were being escorted to the main stage to perform your latest song. You had removed your gold dress for a black, sleek gown. Your lipstick changed to a dark red, and your hands trembled in the white lace gloves you wore.

“Oh, Kiri,” you wheezed almost, your hands shaking as the announcers on stage were announcing the last awards before your performance. “I’m getting nervous. What if I mess up or sing off-key? I’d be the laughing stock!”

Kirishima laughed gently, his hands easily encompassing your waist as he stilled your frantic moves. “Y/l/n y/n, if there is anything I know for sure about you is that you are one hell of a singer and a performer. The awards you’re nominated for tonight speak for themselves! You never fail at your performances, and even if you somehow manage to sing off-key, I’m sure that no one would notice! Your biggest fan in the world won’t notice, at least.”

Not more than seven days ago, when you had cried about the impending nerves of being an artist, Kirishima had come to claim the title of being your biggest fan in the world. It had made you chuckle through your tears before coming near a hysterical laugh as the two of you held each other close.

“You’re a nut, Kirishima Eijirou,” you laugh, hands resting on his lower ribs, but your smile was bright, warm. You paused a bit, fingers pulling at the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll sing just for you then, but I think I should take another swig of that soju.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Could you tell that Takeyama is completely drunk off her ass?”

“...she’s drunk?!”

“Exactly, I’ll be fine,” you breathe, taking a new smaller flask from the purse Kirishima was holding for you and taking the final swig. Your face contorts at the bitter liquid. “Ew, Kimiko really fucked me over with this one. Why is it blue?! Have you ever seen blue apple soju?!”

“No?” Kirishima startled, his eyes looking at the indeed splash of blue liquid tainting a small part of your gloves. “Who gave you that one? What happened with the other flask of yours?”

“Oh, Kimiko sent it along after I lost my other one; it’s her own flask,” you said before the backstage crew whisked you away to begin your set, and without you, Kirishima was sent to the audience.

Kirishima felt trapped as he was ushered into his seat, his eyes scanning the entire audience for something suspicious, a familiar face perhaps. His broad shoulders continued to bump into his neighbors, their disgruntled noises doing nothing to stop his worry.

“And now, Y/n,” came the strong voice of the male announcer, and the light dimmed.

Kirishima watched as the spotlight came down upon you, a golden halo of colors against your darkened gown as the instrumentals began to play in the background. And he saw you take a step forward, the building motifs suddenly silencing when you finally sang the first note.

Despite the panic arising in Kirishima, the unknown of who was behind it all, what was going to happen, he stilled at the unmatched strength and ambiance of your voice.

You sang as you did at every stage, to every audience.

There was a reason why you were considered a legend.

And then, with one last sound, one last melody, and your hand holding your microphone dropped. Your chest heaving, tears falling down your face, and the roar of the audience was silent. You looked through the audience, unable to see, but for some reason, you just knew where Kirishima was.

You smile.

But as the looming sounds begin to fill your ear again, you find that the world is hazy.

You swallow, eyes unfocused as you bowed, hurrying to leave the stage.

Kirishima watched as you took a final stumbling step off the stage, something he felt was going to be written off as you stepped on your dress. But his mind whirled.

The lawyer felt like a setup; the contracts made no sense, the blue soju.

How were they related?

What connected them?

“Oh, fuck,” Kirishima whispered, horrified, and immediately his finger pressed to his earpiece. “Find Y/n! Now!”

Kirishima was racing through the back of the venue, the announcers' voices still ringing through the dirty, bleak hallways. You had just won but was written off as being somewhere backstage; after all, the show must go on.

Voices screamed in his earpiece, each declining to have found you. No one had seen you after you stepped off the stage. No one knew who had taken you.

Kirishima noticed the doors closing at the end of the hallway, and with a dreading sense of doom, Kirishima removed the gun from his harness. And with the devil on his heels, he ran.

Kirishima panted as he looked before him.

You were passed out, draped limp, confused, and woozy against Kimiko’s body, and two men knocked unconscious beside them. To anyone else, it looked as if Kimiko had saved you, some guardian angel within this world, but if Kirishima’s gut meant anything, he knew better.

“Kirishima-san!’ Kimiko squeaked as Kirishima raised his gun, his body tense, unwilling to take a chance on her. “I don’t know what those two were doing! I was saving her, I swear!”

“Don’t do this, Kimiko,” Kirishima whispered, his head shaking. “I figured it out.”

There was a shift in Kimiko’s face at that; the scared unknowing hero melted into one of anger, resentment, one of someone who knew they had been outed.

“So, you figured it out,” she bitterly spoke, her arms that were supporting you from behind revealing to be a firearm of your own. “I didn’t expect you to.”

“I can’t say I figured out your reasoning; honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me, but I felt like it was you,” Kirishima carefully states, his heart roaring at the implied danger of the firearm against your chin. “Don’t do anything stupid, Kimiko.”

Kimiko stares, her lips forming a small o before changing into one of a large, near unattached grin.

“Anything stupid? If anyone is doing anything stupid, it's this selfish prick!” Kimiko spits, her arms tightening around you, making you whimper ever so gently in pain. “She thinks she’s so great, so rich, so smart! Just because she wastes most of her money on stupid shit like charity! Everyone thinks working for her is a dream, but they’re all blind idiots!”

Kirishima’s eyes widen as he notices the glazed, unfocused of your eyes as you shift your attention over to him. Were you listening?

“What’s wrong with the contract?” he asks, a small attempt to diffuse the situation.

“The fact she pays me next to nothing, and yet she works me half to death!”

“You have multiple clients, don’t you?” Kirishima splutters, unsure as to what was wrong. “Why is this one contract so important you wanted to frame her lawyer?!”

Kimiko laughs; it’s pitchy, almost hysterical as she bends over, your body slumping further onto the floor. “That was a lie! All a fucking lie! Do you know that I knew no one when I first started? Y/n is a name everyone wants. I don’t need to do anything to get her things! The world wants her! But the other clients? None of them stayed, none of them wanted me past a month! The salary was okay when she was a snot-nosed brat, but ten years later?! NO! She won’t fucking listen. She never fucking listens to anything but herself! So she has the option to give me the eighty percent, or fucking die here!”

Suddenly the gun in Kirishima’s hand feels like a ton, the skin on the back of his neck crawling and slicking with sweat.

“You know how much those charities mean to her,” Kirishima whispers. “She won’t do it.”

Kimiko trembles for a second, her arm holding the firearm lowering as she looks at the wall, shaking.

“Oh my god… you’re right,” Kimiko realizes, horror and uncertainty flashing across her face. “I guess… she has to die, oh my god, she has to die.”

At that moment, the world slowed down, and Kirishima swore he could see the atoms, the electricity flowing through the space between them. Kimiko’s arm holding the gun raising back up to your temple, her smile detached, horrific yet gleeful.

His body trembled as he doubted himself, his mind unsure if the finger on the trigger was going to be strong enough to fire away. Could he do it?

Was he ready?

Actually ready?

Save her, his past whispered.

Save her, his nightmares screamed.

Save her, his heart yelled.

Kirishima raised his arm, his focus blaring, his past just for a moment, forgotten.

BANG!

“The effects of the rohypnol have already worn out. Thankfully she wasn’t given a whole pill. If she experiences any nausea or throws up, please bring her back, should anything else happen, she’ll be okay.”

The words of the doctor rang in Kirishima’s ears. For tonight, they were going to be discharging you to him. Thankfully, it was all happening in Tokyo, so Kirishima’s apartment was near, and if Bakugou was true to his word, it was clean.

With the help of hospital security, he had managed to get your tuxedo concealed body into a car, and the two of you rode off to his apartment. You’ve been silent the entire time, eyes downcasted as you sit pressed to his side, feeling like a small child compared to him. You knew that he was much larger than you, a near two feet taller, but this felt unmatched.

Kirishima’s jacket was warm around you, it’s sheer largeness another dress on your body, and despite the horrific turn of events, you were feeling warm. You couldn’t remember much of what transpired after stumbling off stage, but you did remember Kirishima bursting through the doors, a look of anger and fear blistering off his person in such a way that made you whimper when you remembered.

You remembered the onsen basically every night, cursing your stupid makeup team for interrupting a night that definitely would have ended with you fucking Kirishima. You cursed yourself for being a coward and not just saying fuck it and fucking him afterward despite the brief awkwardness.

He wanted you, it was clear as day, and you wanted him as well.

Tonight.

“Sorry about how small my apartment is, or if it’s messy, I don’t actually know if my friends have been keeping up with it,” Kirishima apologized, guiding you into the apartment by the small of your back. “You’ll be safe here tonight, and I promise we can get back to your own place tomorrow!”

“Oh, don’t apologize, it’s okay,” you smile, feeling flushed as you cross the entryway to the apartment. His apartment, despite not being home in so long, is clean. The halls aren’t messy, and a hint of lavender is saturated to the air. The dim hallway lights were barely bright enough to cause you to squint as it was dark out. “Thank you for having me tonight, especially after everything.”

At the hospital, you had been given a pair of sweats and a cotton t-shirt. The change in outfit from your event dress was definitely needed, and even though you were sure your makeup was streaked down your face, you felt good hidden in the depths of Kirishima’s jacket.

“Are you hungry?” Kirishima asked, handing over his guest slippers, which you gratefully accepted. “I might have some microwaveable food leftover.”

“Ramen doesn’t sound too bad,” you admit as Kirishima unbuttons the first few buttons on his white dress shirt. You were instantly captivated by the movement, your eyes shifting back to his face when he began to walk off towards the kitchen.

Kirishima talked warmly, keeping the conversation going merrily and bright throughout the entire time in the kitchen. He undoubtedly knew you weren’t entirely okay, and at moments like this, you were entirely grateful for his sweet personality.

To be fair, you knew that you had been quite unfair to Kirishima in the beginning. Looking back at the first entire month of knowing him, you were horrified and impressed that Kirishima didn’t demand to be dropped. You had been selfish, stubborn, a bottom line brat, and he took it day after day. It wasn’t that you disliked him back then; hell, you had been in a near state of delirium when he entered the door during your first meeting because you had no idea such huge men existed to the caliber of his hotness.

But you resisted and might have been harsher than needed.

It was okay now; after all, if he was genuinely bitter about that entire month still, the onsen said otherwise.

It didn’t take long for your stomach to be filled with warm broth, soft boiled eggs, and ramen noodles. Kirishima did, in fact, have ramen, fresh eggs, and some vegetables. In a grand act of preparing you the most sufficient dinner he could, Kirishima presented this under budget ramen and laughed when you said it was terrific.

But it was growing late.

The two of you still sat at his table that was full of a card game, your empty ramen bowls, and cups of water. The clock on the oven read 23:38, and the city lights were slowly dying.

“Are you ready for bed?” Kirishima eventually asked you.

You looked up from your joined hands; your fingers had been playing with his thick and long fingers for some time now. The apartment grew steadily quieter as you studied and attempted to memorize each callous and scar on his hands. They were definitely marked and nicked, the sign of the warrior he once was.

“Depends on the bed,” you tease, lips rising into a small smile as you compare your much tinier hands than his. Your fingertips barely passed the edge of his palm. “What does a big guy like you sleep in? A twin? Tatami mat?”

Kirishima laughed, his hands twisting in yours, wrapping it around so that he raised your hands up to press a kiss to the center of your palms.

“A futon, brat,” Kirishima explained, his smile small but sharp with his humor. “Let’s get you to bed?”

You frown.

“Where will you be sleeping then?”

“My couch is just fine.”

“I’m sure your stuffing in a trash bag had holes in it.”

“That’s okay,” Kirishima laughed, standing up and quickly taking you to your feet as well. “It’s just for a night, I’ll live.”

Your face warmed immediately as he guided you down the hallway of his apartment before finally coming into what was definitely his room.

Kirishima’s scent was faint in this room, cinnamon, wood, and warm spices. It made your eyes flutter as you observed his room from the entryway as he began to set up the room.

His eye for interior decoration was quite… different. You smiled brightly as you glanced around; the diverse and rather boyish decorations around the room warmed your heart. It seemed exactly like what you would think of for Kirishima.

“Well, that’s all!” Kirishima exclaimed, his hands landing on his hips in triumph as he looked around. “The bathroom is the next door over, and I’ll leave a toothbrush out for you. I also left out a new t-shirt of mine if you want to change!”

You nod some more, watching as Kirishima seems unsure of what to do next. He looks around, coughs a bit before nodding.

“Okay, I’ll be leaving—”

“Um, can we talk?” you interrupt, arms wrapping around your body. “I have some things I want to say.”

“Oh, sure!”

“You can sit,” you say, motioning toward the bed. “I have a few things to get off my chest.”

Kirishima pauses for a bit, his eyes looking you over before he eventually nods, and he sits down. The bed slightly creaks under his weight, and you feel your body warm-up at the sound. You want to hear the bed creak more, to rock under the weight of you and him pressed against the sheets as you cried his name.

“What is it?” he asks gently, observing you.

“I just…” you huff, words failing you, your tongue feeling heavy. “I wanted to say thank you for saving me.”

“It was my job to do that,” Kirishima smiled warmly, his arms crossing again.

He was relaxed.

“I mean, I can’t even begin to believe that it was Kimiko who was behind all that, even though we know it was… I know it was,” you trail off, shivering slightly as you remember your ex-managers demented laugh in your ear. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Nothing would’ve happened to you,” Kirishima spoke with finality. “I promised to myself at the first meeting I was going to protect you, hell the entire world would. You’re not going to be taken down by pathetic people like that, not you.”

“Really?”

“One hundred percent.”

“I feel like I should repay you in some way, though,” you rub the back of your neck, eyes fluttering just the slightest bit flirtatious. Kirishima looked at you with full mooned eyes, his arms unfolding and his palms resting onto the bedspread.

“You repay me plenty already,” came his whispered answer, so quiet, so pure you almost smiled. “You don’t have to do anything.”

Your tongue pushes past your lip, wetting the drying skin as you take a step toward him. The shoulders of the jacket slowly fall from your own shoulders, pooling just above your elbows as you stop before him, hands resting daintily on his broad shoulders.

“And what if I want something?” you ask, finding yourself stemming with energy as his legs part, allowing you closer access to him.

You step in closer and closer until your outer thighs are ghosting against the inner part of his.

“I think it’s in our contract for me to do everything that you request if I remember correctly,” Kirishima whispers, his bright clear red eyes turning a burnt shade: dark and ever consuming.

“And if I want you to finish what you started over at the onsen?” you press, fingers curling against the muscles of his shoulders before locking behind his neck.

His nose was brushing against yours, cold yet burning against your own skin.

“I’ll gladly show you what I wanted to do that night,” he grunts, eyes deadly, and for the first time, his hands held your waist.

You took a second to recover, your skin sparking with the electricity of his touch, and you suppressed a shiver as you opened your eyes.

“Do it,” you cement your fates, “coward.”

And just like that, in a movement so euphoric, Kirishima’s mouth crashed against yours.

His mouth was hot, dangerous against yours -- a live wire sparking with uncontrollable energy and heat as your mouths danced. Hot puffs of air were passed between your mouths, your fingers shaking with an undeniable release of tension and want.

The kiss was sloppy, desperate, so needy with unspoken frantic determination to fuck each other until the other could no longer move.

Kirishima’s hand removed the jacket from your arms, letting the expensive material fall onto the floor with a heavy thud. Despite the lack of warmth the clothing provided, the feeling of Kirishima’s hands rubbing against your bare arms sent your mind spiraling.

“Get on the bed,” Kirishima commands against your mouth. “Let me fuck you.”

The words were nearly embarrassingly desperate, but the tone of his voice spoke of the absolute domination he wished to assert on you. He wanted you in one exact way, and you had a feeling you knew what it was. But if he had been paying attention, Kirishima should already know that getting you to listen was not easy.

“No,” you grin against his mouth.

Kirishima pulls away instantly, his lips red and swollen as he replays your word in his head. He looks frazzled, absolutely delirious already at the simple, passion-filled makeout. As soon as his eyes clear away the fog, your grin drops, and instead, you look at him with fierce determination and defiance.

“No?” he repeats.

“No,” you confirm.

Your chest feels light, your head spinning as the hands on your waist tighten, and his eyes flash dangerously. The tip of his tongue pushes past his lips before quickly disappearing again.

“Of course, you’re a brat in bed too, such a fucking princess,” Kirishima shakes his head, but his mouth curving into a shark-like grin.

Menacing, promising, sending chilling shivers down your spine.

The world spins faster than you can keep up, your mouth opening to shriek as Kirishima easily lifts you up, and has you lying against his lap.

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, princess,” Kirishima begins, his large fingers hooking into the waistband of the sweats you have on and the panties you’re wearing. “My princess gets rewards for being good. If she can behave properly, she gets to be fucked with dick, her pussy gets to be fucked just the way she pleases.”

You can’t help but stifle a moan that threatens to spill out with his words and the way his hands move down the curve of your ass, exposing the naked skin to him. The waistband of both your panties and sweats stay high up your thighs, and it’s almost embarrassing to know you’re still so clothed despite what’s to come.

“And just what does the Sergeant do to bad girls?” you ask, unable to keep your tongue down, your hips rolling against his lap in undeserved friction.

Unexpectedly, abruptly, a hand comes down harshly onto your bare ass.

The contact is rough, stinging against your ass as you cry out in slight pain.

The hand not currently rubbing a warning circle into your ass twists the hair at the top of your head, lifting your head up so that your ear could near his mouth.

“Bad girls get punishments. They get what I want to give them. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Holy shit,” you whimper, heat flaring between your thighs at the thought of Kirishima doing anything to you regardless of if you were good or bad. You rut your ass back against his hand, longing for a heavier touch, a plea for something more.

“What does the princess want?”

“Nothing,” you bite, and the crashing smack of another spank has you moaning loudly at the stinging pleasure-filled pain.

“You moaning like a whore at a simple spank says otherwise,” Kirishima chuckles darkly, his fingers pinching your stinging ass as your body bucks against him. He spanks you again, again, and again. Each slap is intentful, powerful, wanting to get you to admit what you want, and you cry against your hands each time, your eyes fluttering as the pain feels good.

“Of course, a slut like you would be getting off on this,” Kirishima seems amused, his thick finger pressing to the slit of your cunt, spreading your dripping essence against your cunt. He presses against your entrance with just the tip of his finger, and you shriek in a sound for more, your hips jerking backward to get his finger into you, to fuck you with those thick fingers to do something about the growing desperate heat.

“Kirishima!” you scream, your body sweating and twisting on his lap, desperate to find some way to get him to finger fuck you.

“Ah, there we go,” he sighs in delight as his fingers swirl at your entrance, increasing the teasing and making your mind spin. “Tell me what you want,��brat.”

“You!” you wail, two of his fingers carting between your wet, sloppy heated lips. They graze your clit, stimulating you further as you can do nothing but instinctively jerk against his hold, trying to get him to give you the needed pleasure to build up to an orgasm. “I want you to fuck me so good! Please, Sergeant, please, I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember anything but your name.”

“But you haven’t proven to be a good princess,” Kirishima tuts, his hands disappearing from your pussy despite your crying pleas. His hand grabs your ass, though, massaging the abused skin, grasping it tightly.

You moan, embarrassed at the sensation of his massive hand easily cupping your ass cheek, your fingers fisting into the fabric of his pants as you shake your head.

“Are you going to prove that you’re good?” he asks you, his tone like that of a parent chastising a child. “Gonna prove to me that you can be good?”

You shake pathetically against his legs, but you can’t keep yourself from shaking your head. You can’t prove to him that you would be.

“I can’t!” you whimper loudly, your body twisting on his lap to look up at him, your eyes filled with tears and pleading need. Kirishima looked down at you with lust filled eyes and an undeniable need to be followed.

“You can’t?” he repeats, his head tilting, eyes narrowing, and his fingers dug into your ass. “Or you won’t?”

You tremble on top of him, unable to answer because you weren’t ready to hand over the reins just yet. You didn’t want to submit so fast, you wanted to make his own head dizzy with need but the stubbornness to continue punishing you the way he was promising.

“I won’t,” you gasp, eyes fluttering at the way he finally drops your head.

You gasp loudly as you find him shoving you off his lap, and with your panties and sweats sitting so awkwardly high on your legs, you find yourself tumbling off his lap and onto the floor.

“Guess if you don’t want to behave, I’ll treat you like some fucking pussy pocket and dispose of you once I’m done,” Kirishima easily breathes, and you look up at the now standing man as he tears his shirt off.

Your mouth waters, your cunt throbbing at the sight of the rippling muscles and dark lines of his tattoos on his upper body. You watch fascinated, like one does to a masterpiece, as he undresses until he’s in nothing but his socks. And at the sight of his dick, you can feel at once all the blood in your flushed face drop directly into your throbbing cunt.

He was fucking enormous, his girth barely fitting into his hand, and the angry red head spilled its precum against his abs. A black happy trail connecting Kirishima’s abs to his vein throbbing cock.

Holy fuck, he could quickly kill you with that.

Kirishima doesn’t ask any questions as he watches your awkwardly dressed state of a body on the floor. His head is tilted upwards, a small pleased smile on his face as he looks down on you, his hand slowly, leisurely fisting his cock as you can do nothing but stare.

You make some insane noise at the back of your throat at this sight, your thighs trembling with need, and you're pushing off your side, your ass burning, and your balance off as you open your mouth, offering all you could to him.

And thankfully, Kirishima allows it.

He’s much too tall for you to suck him off on your knees, so he sits back down onto the bed, letting you scamper between his legs, mouth open wide like some needy pet.

“Such a good little slut,” Kirishima sighs, sinking his cock into your wet, hot mouth. “Such a fucking cockwhore, all it took was a single glance for you to lose your will.”

You whine against his dick, your jaw tight with the stretch, your tongue lapping so desperately around the cock that was no more than halfway in yet couldn’t go in any further.

“Suck me right, and I’ll reward you by fucking that pretty little pussy of yours,” Kirishima grunts, his fingers pressing into the side of your neck as he ruts his hips up into your mouth, shoving his cock even further into your mouth. “And don’t you dare look away from me while you suck me off.”

It feels like fire.

His cock driving down your throat hurts, the taste of his salty pre-cum slathering all over your tongue and dripping out of your mouth with the saliva you can’t control. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you continue to bob your head, continue to fuck him with your throat as animalistic, praiseworthy noises begin spilling from Kirishima’s mouth.

You whimper at the sight of his head dipping back, and you nearly whine when he shoves the fingers he had gathered your juices on into his mouth. He moans at the contact and with his pleasure with your actions so obvious as you choke against his girth. That was hot, holy fuck, you wanted him to fuck you, please fuck you.

Your eyes close as he begins to fuck faster into your mouth, his delight in hearing you choke around him his driving force. Tears start pouring from your eyes despite your best efforts, your throat and inner thighs burning with lust and need as Kirishima groans, his cock twitching deep in your throat.

Slap!

“Hey!”

Slap!

You gag harshly as your cheeks sting with his heavy slap, your teeth grazing underneath his cock, right against a thick, twisting vein.

“Did I tell you to close your eyes?” Kirishima practically growls, his hands grasping the back of your neck, the other one slapping you across the face yet again. “No. I said… fuck… I said, keep your eyes on me!”

Tears weep down your face, your eyes struggling to keep focus on him as he continued to fuck deep and intensely into your mouth, shoving himself further into you until you could feel his thighs grazing your chin. Oxygen wasn’t flowing anymore; your gags and chokes the only time the burning element could manage to flow through you, but Kirishima doesn’t seem to care. He seems to delight in the way you are, despite it all, are moaning and looking at him in a pleading way for more.

More, you plead.

And he delivers.

Kirishima pulls his still hard, not yet cummed, dick out of your mouth and stands.

You splutter with the sudden intake of oxygen to your lungs, burning you from the inside out as you splutter on the ground.

“W-What’s going on?” you hoarsely stammer, your jaw and throat aching from its prolonged abuse. “E-Ei?”

However, Kirishima seems dead set on getting you naked, and you squeal in flustered excitement as he rips the shirt off of you and his mouth pressing against yours again. His mouth crashes against yours, and you moan into his mouth immediately.

His tongue curls into your mouth and your tongues press and rub against each other. Each passing second growing more desperate, needier, more intense as your clothes are ripped one by one off your body.

“Holy fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long,” Kirishima nearly whines, his mouth trailing down your neck, biting and sucking against every centimeter of skin he passed. “Wanted to fuck you against the wall, in my bed, and now I get to do that.”

“Please, please, fuck me, please,” you beg, your voice bordering a wail as your arms wrap around his neck, letting him lift you up off the floor. Despite you being so much smaller than him that when he held you to him, your cunt wasn’t pressed to his angry leaking cock, you continued to desperately roll your hips against his abs, the friction welcomed and easing the building pressure. It was an action conveying just what you wanted. “I need you in me, Sergeant!”

“Just cuz… holy fuck,” Kirishima breathes ragged, his body twisting around, and you cried when the cold sheets pressed into your back. “Imma fuck you, Imma… god, just fucking watch.”

Your head thrashed back onto the pillow as Kirishima’s teeth sunk into your collarbone, then captured your sensitive nipples, his fingers dancing against your clit and teasing your center.

“Now!” you cry, fingers digging into his shoulder. “Put it in!”

This time, Kirishima didn’t need to be told twice.

His larger body was suddenly pressed entirely against yours, dwarfing you immediately as your arms wrapped around his back as his cock slammed into you. You screamed at the sudden intrusion, your pussy stretched beyond its typical limits by his girth, his size, his power.

Your cunt throbbed around him, your face buried within his pecs as you, despite the searing pain, shove your hips up towards him. Fucking into him, sucking him further into you.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima groans, “you’re amazing.”

“Talk less, fuck me more!” you screech, your body spasming, twitching so hard from the splitting pleasure and the lava pit in your stomach, and Kirishima does that exactly.

His hips begin to meet yours in equaled power, slamming into you so that the bed creaked beneath you. He fucked you until he had to hold a hand on your hip so you could stay there, and you kept a hand on the wall to continue to push yourself down onto his cock.

You screamed with pleasure, cried for more, Kirishima’s shark-like smirk getting bolder, darker, hotter with every slam of his hips until his tattooed right arm shot down. His hand wrapped around your throat, choking you.

“You’re so loud, princess,” Kirishima moans, clearly liking your loud noises, “but you’re going to wake everyone in Tokyo.”

His hand around your throat is enough to have your legs trembling around his waist, your choked and muffled moans and splutters drowning out even more as he pressed a kiss onto you. He kissed you, licking your mouth, and devouring your every word and thought. Your core twisted, tightened, and burned. It throbbed and clenched with it’s impending orgasm, and your body began to tense to the heavens as his cock throbbed deep within you.

“Who saved you?”

“E-Ei did,” you garble.

“Who’s fucking you?”

“E-Ei is!”

“Who’s going to fucking cum when I tell her to?”

“Me! Fuck, me!”

Kirishima laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist, and in one final, fleeting burst of strength, fucks into you with his own power, needs, and desire, and you can only take it. “Cum, princess,” he whispered almost sweetly against the top of your head, and it was all over. Your teeth sink into his chest as you scream, a blinding white light erupting through your vision as you cum around his cock.

Kirishima whimpers, his cock still pushing deep into your cunt, until you can feel the warm spill of his seed in your womb.

He collapses to the side of you, taking you with him so that you were resting on his sweaty chest.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima whispered after a bit, your body already warm and too lethargic to notice the star-like tone to his voice. “That was fucking… holy shit.”

“Does this mean you like me?” you half tease, half wonder.

There’s a pause, a silence, and you wonder if maybe he had fallen asleep.

But he didn’t.

“I’ve been in love with you for some time now, I think,” he admits, his hand beginning to rub small circles into your back.

You find that despite the exhaustion, warmth floods your cheeks.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess we’re going to have to discuss a more… permanent and maybe different contract tomorrow morning, huh?”

Kirishima chuckles, and you find yourself smiling into his chest.

“I think we do.”

#kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha

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jakesimfromstatefarm · 4 years ago

Text

not jealous | jake sim

summary: jake sim is not a jealous person. at least that's what he tells himself. so why does he find himself going through your phone when a certain "bluejay park" decides to text you?

pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. mentions of jay park]

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: angst, cursing (very minimal), one slightly suggestive sentence, jake being cute, some more angst lol, slightly cheesy bc jake’s just too cute ugh

wc: 3.8k

a/n: ok i loved writing this, which is why i went on to almost 4k words LOL oops. but anyways, i love jake a little too much and this type of scenario has been running around in my head for a while now so i decided to put it into words. also i may have created this blog just so i could post this somewhere LMAO anyways yeah this was my first fic so hope you guys enjoyyyy <3

Jake Sim is not a jealous person.

At least that's what he tells himself. To be fair, in his past relationships, he never showed any jealously. Then again, he doesn't know if he can call those relationships, "relationships". Does a fifth grade relationship with a girl who he was once dared to kiss during a game of Truth or Dare in the basement of a classmate's house during their 11th birthday party count? He doesn't remember being jealous when the same girl was later dared to kiss his classmate, Sunghoon. (Funny enough, that's how the two boys came to be best friends 'til this day, but that's a story for another time.)

But really, Jake doesn't think jealously is one of his traits, even if he's now almost 20 years old without any experience with love other than his current relationship with you and that short-lived romance in the fifth grade. (What was her name again? Jake would have to ask Sunghoon later.)

So he doesn't know what clicked in that brain of his that lead him to this current situation he was in. He doesn't know why he felt a little spark of anger in him when your phone, which you left right next to him on the couch while you went to take a shower, kept buzzing with texts from "bluejay park". He doesn't know why he couldn't kept his eyes distracted from the messages, although your phone was constantly lighting up because whatever it was Jay had to say to you, he would not shut up about it. He doesn't know why he questioned what your relationship with Jay was for a split second.

In fact, you're close with all of Jake's friends. That's one of his favorite things about you, you get along so well with all his friends you might as well replace Jake himself in the friend group. So he doesn't know what tells him to take a little glance at your phone—at the messages.

But he finds himself doing it anyways.

Hearing that the water in the shower was still running (you were always the type to take long showers), he quickly grabs your phone and scrolls through the lock screen just to find that he couldn't even read the messages since you had your notifications set so no one could read them unless the phone was unlocked (darn you and your settings!) Thankfully, Jake knew your passcode––and you knew his too––or he thought he did. Until the iPhone vibrated, telling him the passcode was wrong.

He must've entered it too fast or something. So he tries again.

And again.

Until the iPhone switches its screen to say: "iPhone is disabled. Try again in 5 minutes."

There's no way. You never change your password. And even if you did, you would tell him—you two even had each other's fingerprints saved into each other's phones in the past (you know, before the world decided that Apple's home button was too lame and decided to just completely get rid of it). If there was an option to save multiple faces for Face ID, you two would be that couple that saved each others faces in your own phones.

That being said, Jake sat there, your phone in hand, frozen. Why was your phone locked? Why was Jay texting you 10 texts per second? Why did he feel guilty about this entire situation?

He hears the shower switch off and in that moment, he swears he feels his heart beat just a little faster. He tells himself there's no way you'll be out before the 5 minutes are up. You followed a really meticulous skincare routine (one that Jake memorized by now) that took an extra 15 minutes of your time after each shower.

"Hey Jake?" Your voice calls out from the tiny bathroom door crack that you left open before you hopped in the shower, "Is my phone out there? Do you mind bringing it to me?"

Fuck.

Jake shifts on the couch. Taps his foot on the ground. Returns your phone to its original spot. Clears his throat.

"Don't you want to get dressed first?" he calls back, quite timidly.

He can hear you stop moving around in the bathroom. Probably telling yourself what an odd response that was. To be fair, it was an odd question, considering the fact that you two have been together for so long, it’s not like he hasn’t seen you undressed before...intentionally or not.

Next thing he knows, the steam is rolling out of the bathroom door and you're stepping out in your towel, eyebrows raised.

"If you didn't want to get up from the couch, you could've just said so, you lazy butt," you smirk at him as you walk towards him and the couch, leaving a faint trail of water drops behind you. Jake's eyes follow your figure as you go to grab your phone and lift the screen towards yourself.

That's when he freezes. You do too.

You cock your head, as if asking yourself why it was disabled. He can hear the gears in your head turning.

"Jake, did you try to unlock my phone?"

He runs through all the possible excuses he could blurt out. Come on Jake, think of something! But he knows he can't lie to you.

Too many beats of silence pass by.

"Maybe," he finally says—or more like murmurs. He looks up to you like a child looking up at their mom, who just them caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. To his surprise, you don't show any hint of anger. A flash of confusion—and is that worry he sees?—crosses your face for a split second before you shrug and turn towards your room to change, dropping the subject. It was natural for you two to use each other's phones anyways. So then why did you have that look of worry?

Jake knows you well, a little too well. But that's what you love about him. He can easily read all your emotions. One of the many things he picked up from dating you for almost two years now. But why would you care if he tried to get into your phone? Why would that worry you? All the possibilities run through head and his own worry begins to increase. He trusts you. He does.

So then why does the thought bother him throughout the entire day? Why does he bring it up during dinner later that night, when you're both cuddled on your sofa, slurping take-out ramen while rewatching your favorite k-drama under the thick blanket that you always keep in your living room for nights like these?

"Huh? Of course I've heard from Jay today, we had that conversation about that stupid meme you boys kept laughing about in the groupchat we're all in, didn't we?" You answer him when he asks if you've heard from Jay lately. You sit up from your warm spot under Jake's arm to put your empty bowl on the coffee table in front of you. When you lean back, you look up at him,

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's nothing, just wondering," he says, avoiding your eyes by keeping his own trained on the series currently playing on your TV. This would be your third time rewatching this series together. He would never complain to you though, he knows how much you love it and if he were being honest, he was secretly attached to the characters—not that he would ever tell you, he would never hear the end of it from you and the boys.

"You're being weird. Just tell me, or did you forget that I can practically read your mind," you say with a giggle and shove to his side, the one you were currently warmly cuddled into. Jake wasn't the only one who learned how to read emotions; you could read him just as well as he could read you. And like you, that's one of the many things he loved about you. But maybe not in this case.

He toyed around with the contents inside his ramen bowl with his chopsticks.

"I just..." God, how does he word this? Why was he having trouble explaining it? You were the easiest person to talk to. To him, you were the only person he could tell everything to.

"Jaywastextingyouabunchearlier," he blurts out quickly, but not quickly enough for you to miss it.

He feels you shift under his arm. He feels the air in the room shift. Tension.

"What?" Now you're sitting upright, legs criss-crossed in front of you on the couch but turned, so your body is completely facing him. He mirrors you, sitting up to put his ramen bowl next to yours on the surface, but he stays facing the TV.

"Your phone kept going off because of him when you were showering," he says with a little more confidence. But inside, he was nervous as hell, the same nervous as when he asked you out for the first time many moons ago. But it's too late to back out now, he brought it up first, anyways. Guess we're having this conversation now, good going Jake!

"Is that why you tried unlocking my phone earlier? I mean I thought you were just trying to leave selfies on my phone like you always do but you were trying to read my texts?" You question, slightly raising your soft voice. He doesn't know how to react, he hates confrontation.

"It wasn't like that, Jay just kept spamming you and like I—why was he even texting you in the first place? Then your phone got disabled because you changed your password, which you never do by the way, so I–"

"I changed it because my little sister kept getting into my phone when I went to visit my family yesterday! Did you really think I was hiding something from you? You know I can text whoever I want, right? You don't own me."

Okay so now he's managed to make you angry. Good going Jake, part 2!

"Okay but what does Jay need from you so bad that he has to send you like 50 messages at once?" He's standing now. So are you, eyebrows furrowed together as you collect your bowls from the table.

Standing there, bowls in hand, you say, "Jake, that's none of your business! It wasn't even that big of a deal, I don't know why you felt the need to nosy around."

"Well, if he's texting you non-stop, then obviously it's a big deal! We wouldn't even be having this conversation if you would just tell me what you guys were talking about," he murmurs back, eyes narrowing. You scoff as you trail into your kitchen. He follows behind and stops at the other side at your kitchen island as you place the dirty dishes into the sink.

"No, we're having this conversation because you obviously don't trust me! It doesn't matter what we were talking about, it doesn't matter who I was texting! I could be texting your mother and I shouldn't have to tell you what we were talking about! That's why we're having this conversation," you say as you turn back to face him from the other end.

He hates this. He hates fighting with you (which is a very, very rare occasion). He hates that you think he doesn't trust you. He hates his insecurity eating at him, telling him to keep questioning you on why you and Jay were talking in the first place. He was aware that you were close with his friends, but it wasn't until the texts he realized just how close you are with them. It's not that he didn't trust you, he just didn't know how to act when it came to you and other guys. God knows how he got lucky enough to meet you, let alone date you, so the thought of him losing you to someone else actually terrified him. Not only were you his first real relationship, but he wanted you to be his first and only one in life. You were it for him.

"Why did he text you." He deadpans from his side of the kitchen.

You scoff with a hint of exasperation. "You're kidding me."

You stare at him. He stares back, quirking an eyebrow, as if restating the same question back, as if testing you.

You're fuming now. Why was he making it so hard? Why was he doubting you? Out of frustration, you start laughing, which scares him. That can't be good.

"Fine. You wanna know so bad? Take a look," you're one tone level away from screaming as you take your phone out of your pocket, unlock it, and open up your conversation with "bluejay park", sliding the phone across the island to reach him.

Jake stares at the phone which now lies there, unlocked, facing him. Isn't this what he wanted? It is, right? That's why he started this dreaded argument with you in the first place.

Then why does he feel so fucking awful?

He looks back up at you, to see you sighing and looking up at the ceiling, as if trying to force your forming tears back into your eyes.

Yup, he feels horrible.

"Happy? Happy to know we were just trying to plan a surprise birthday party for you but you and your jealously just had to know huh, Jake?" You quickly state, voice cracking, as you tried not to choke up. You weren't sad that he found out about the surprise. You were sad that it felt like he didn't trust you. That he thought you were the type of person to do god knows what behind his back. You hated the feeling of not being trusted. Especially by Jake, of all people.

"Fuck."

Jake's face (and heart) falls with the most broken expression you've ever seen. But you're too sad, angry, tired (a mix of all?) to care. Your only goal right now is to not let him see you cry.

You hurry past him, across your apartment, and into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you, leaving behind a shocked, and regretful, Jake.

His heart shrinks when he hears the door slam shut and a little more when he looks down at the still unlocked phone in front of him. He didn't have the heart in him to look at it anymore. Of course he trusted you, he knew what you said was the truth.

He mentally screams at himself for assuming the worst––for thinking that you, a literal angel, would betray him. First, he thought he was losing you to someone else. Now, he was afraid he just lost you through his own actions.

He hesitantly sulks over to your door, softly knocking when he reaches it.

"Y/N?"

No response.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. I didn't know, I let my—”

"Jake just please leave me alone for now," he hears you painfully say from a distance, meaning you're on your bed. He knows the door's unlocked—the lock on your door hasn't been working for a long time now, despite the many times he tells you to talk to your landlord about it. But he doesn't find it in him to open it. He knows he messed up. If he saw you in there right now, crying, he wouldn't know what to do. He wouldn't know what he would to do himself, knowing he was the reason behind your tears.

He nods in silence, knowing you can't see him, but does so anyways and returns to his spot on the couch. He could leave right now, go back to the dorm with the rest of the guys, let you have your space like you wanted. But his heart hurts at the idea of leaving you sad, angry, or a combination of both. He can't leave this unresolved. He fucked up, he has to fix it.

And so he sits on your couch for another hour. The clock on the wall behind him continues to tick as the silent tension in your apartment continues to grow. When it hits 11pm and he's sure you've slumbered off into sleep, he quietly enters your room.

He can see your figure in the dark, your back facing the door as you're curled up into yourself under the comforter. He feels his heart drop a little more when he imagines you crying in that position from earlier. He slowly peels the comforter open and gets into his side of the bed, careful not to bother your sleeping figure.

Laying there, staring up at the ceiling, he's never felt more like a stranger in your bed. It's not that he hasn't slept over before, god knows he's probably slept over at your place more than he has in his own bed. But right now, in this moment, he just felt awful. Like he didn't deserve to be in such close proximity to you. How could he be deserving? He violated your privacy, made you feel like you weren't trusted, doubted your relationship.

These thoughts run through Jake's head as he stares up at your ceiling fan, wishing he could turn back time to a few hours ago, before he checked your phone, before he let his insecurities get to the best of him.

You can feel the dip he makes in the bed behind you when he gets in. Of course you're not asleep. There's no way sleep could reach you when you had the recent events constantly replaying in your head like a broken record.

You knew Jake with all your heart. You didn't have to look at him to know he was probably laying there, hurt, staring up at the ceiling, drafting what to say once you wake up—or once he knows you're actually still awake.

You decide to break the tension by turning to lay on your other side, facing him.

You were wrong. Thanks to the little sliver of moonlight shining through your sheer curtains, you can see him, now laying on his side, already looking at you with so much regret in his eyes. You can almost hear the cracks in your heart physically forming.

His eyes widen when he realizes you're still awake. He opens his mouth to say something, but not before you quickly shift over to his side of the bed and embrace him in a tight hold, burying your face into his chest. Without any hesitation, he returns the gesture, arms holding your body as close to him as possible. As if once he let go, he'd lose you forever.

He lets out a sigh of relief as he breathes you in. He didn't even know he was holding his breath all this time.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry Y/N," he mutters into your hair. He feels his hoodie getting wet from where you buried your face. He pulls you closer, if that's even possible, feeling his own eyes heating up with sadness. He would never forgive himself for making you feel this way.

"You know I trust you right? Please know that. I shouldn't have assumed the worst when I saw your phone. I...I let my insecurities get to the best of me."

You move your head from its home on his chest to look up at him, as if asking him to elaborate. This was new to you, you didn't know he held insecurities in your relationship. But it wasn't because of you, no, you were his entire world. Losing you meant losing everything.

Jake's never been the best at saying his feelings. That's why it took him so long (with the help of his six best friends) to finally confess how he felt about you. He was afraid of letting people in if they could easily walk out. Maybe that's why he never let anyone into his life before you. But oh, were you an exception. The second he met you, he knew he was fucked. But thank god he did, because thanks to you, he's been able to be more open, more vulnerable. He's able to talk to you about anything and everything. He doesn't have that same fear of losing people anymore, not when he has you in his life to reassure him every step of the way. But right now, in this moment, he doesn't know how to tell you that his new fear was, in fact, just losing you.

The sheer idea of you not being a part of his life anymore terrified him.

"I hope you know you're never going to lose me Jake, if that's what you're insecure about," you softly mutter as you wrap your free arm that's not stuck in between both your bodies around him to gently play with the ends of his hair. It's as if you could read his mind, he loves that you know him so well.

"It just sucks that you could even think I would ever do something as awful as what you were assuming...with one of your closest friends nonetheless," you continue.

"I know. I know, and I feel terrible. I'm so sorry. I know you would never do anything remotely close to that, and I know you would never intentionally try to keep anything from me," he sighs. He shifts so he can lie down on his back, bringing you with him to lie on his chest, never letting you go once. "It's just...I just don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you Y/N. Everyday, I ask myself what heroic thing I must've done in my past life to deserve this life with you and I can't help but think you could just as easily be stripped away from me."

As much as your heart breaks listening to him rant, you feel your love for him grow even more. You knew how hard it was for him to put his true emotions into words, and him telling you this reminded you how much trust he had in you.

After some moments of silence, moments of him drawing random shapes onto your back, moments of you two just holding each other like it was the end of the world, you speak up.

"I love you. I'm sorry for making you doubt yourself—"

"No, it's not your fault, I can't help but think things like that. I just don't know what I did to deserve you, and I know that I need to be mo–"

"Babe let me finish," you say with a little giggle in your tone. He immediately stops and mutters a little "sorry". How cute, you tell yourself.

"I was gonna say," you look back up at him so you're making direct eye contact now. "You're the only one that's ever on my mind, Jake. I can't help the way you think, but I can assure you that there is no one else I would rather be with. And I mean that for the rest of life."

You snuggle back into the comfortable hoodie he's currently wearing (you make a mental note to yourself to steal it from him later) and decide to ease the tension,

"So you're stuck with me for life, sorry to inform you Mr. Sim."

Jake lets out a laugh, looking down at you to see you returning his smile with a cheeky one.

"I love you. So much," he says so sincerely, so genuinely, that you almost tear up again from how content you were. Now you were asking yourself, what did you do to deserve him?

Jake Sim is not a jealous person.

No, he just loves you.

A lot.

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rebeccccccaaa · 4 years ago

Text

ғᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ & ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs

_____________________

ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x sɪʙʟɪɴɢ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: ANON Yay it’s my bday ^^ can I ask my favorite blog for an imagine? One where you’re a winter soldier but were trained secretly so bucky don’t know you. But you’re also buckys sister. So as you get the mission to kill him you found him in the tower when all avengers sit together. First buck is happy that you’re still alive and most likely can’t believe it but as you start attacking him, he knows what’s going on ( & you also have a cyber arm). In the end you remember him and he helps you through this?

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: angst, gun use? Also this kinda an au but like kinda sort of lol; in other words timeline fucked up lmao

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: Happy Birthday bug! Omg! My birthday is on Saturday fellow aquarius ;) Also thank you so much for calling me your favorite writer that makes me so happy I can't even begin to say much that means to me.

ps im posting twice today! what omg! so yeah stay tuned really soon for a really good steve smut i just wanted to get this one put today for the anon’s birthday :)

___________________________

Betcha ya never thought sibling rivalries could get this out of hand.

You and your twin brother James Buchanan Barnes stood across each other on the roof of the Avengers Tower. Bucky had settled with the team when Hydra was defeated in DC. thighs were going very well and he finally felt like he was doing good again in his life. He felt like he had a family again, especially when Steve was still alive.

Speaking of family, you barged in the Tower earlier today looking for Bucky and when you found he couldn't believe his eyes. He was so happy and confused to see you but nonetheless rushed over to give a long needed hug.

The second he took a step forward you aimed your gun and shot several times at him. His metal raised up and blocked the bullets but that didn't stop you.

“Who the hell is that?” Bat aske Steve while hiding and loaded her gun to fight back.

“That’s Y/n,” Steve said in distress.

He had a sort of crush on you back in the 30s when you guys were teenagers, but like Bucky, he thought everyone he knew then was dead. First he found Bucky who tried to kill him, and now he found you, or you found them, and you also trying to kill Bucky.

“Who’s Y/n?” Nat asked.

“Buck’s sister, they look nothing alike though,” Steve explained.

“There’s another Barnes?” Tony shouted.

“I thought she was dead.”

You threw Bucky across the room and while he stayed on the ground groaning, you pulled out your gun again and shot at him missing every single bullet because of his stupid metal arm. Two can play that game. Literally.

You stormed up to him and grabbed his throat pulling him up and choking him. Bucky’s eyes bulged out his head; how were you so strong? He tried to hit your head but was unlucky, so he took his metal hand and chopped it down your right arm hoping to buckle your elbow so you’d let go but to his and everybody’s surprise you didn’t budge.

Istead the prominent sound of metal against metal echoed loudly throughout the room and everyone’s expressions were shocked, confused, scared. You threw Bucky again to the side and his hand was wrapped around your wrist so when he was thrown he took your hand glove with him and as he guessed, bright shiny and silvery metal glowed for everyone to see.

“She’s a winter soldier,” Nat said.

“What?”

“Before the Black Widow academy became what it is, what I am, they experimented on others to turn them into people like Bucky; Winter Soldiers. They all had bad effects, turned aggressive and too violent to be trained. But it was rumored another person was a success but I didn't think they used them, well her. You said she was his twin?” Nat said.

“Yeah, fraternal,” Steve said.

“So they share similar DNA, it makes sense for the serum to work on her if worked on him.”

“Do you think she was kidnapped?” Steve asked.

“I wouldn’t doubt Hydra,” Nat said sadly.

Bucky ran to the roof in hopes to get away but you were just as fast and light on your feet. You trained the same way. So now you and James Buchanan Barnes, traitor, stood across each other on the roof of the Avengers Tower.

“Y/n,” Bucky said calmly. You grumbled and huffed not liking the name he was calling you.

“Y/n, I know you know me.”

“I do. You’re the soldier who betrayed your fathers. You left your home,” you said harshly.

“That’s not my home. And it’s not yours either. I know you remember me,” Bucky took a step forward slowly.

Steve bursted through the roof access door stopping when he saw you and Bucky talking. Bucky looked back at him and motioned Steve to stand next to him.

“You remember this punk, looks different but he had googly eyes for you, remember? You told me you wouldn’t date someone younger than you. I told you it was only a year but you didn’t wanna admit like the fucker back,” Bucky explained. Your head was beginning to pound and a ringing sound pierced your ears.

“You’re my mission,” you said with teary eyes; you felt this connection with the long haired traitor but you couldn’t pin it. Your brain was too scrambled from the electroshocks.

“I had a mission too.”

“And you failed! You betrayed your family!”

“They are not family! You’re family!”

You huffed opening and closing your fists anxiously; they were beginning to look more and more familiar.

“Y/n, it’s Bucky, Buck-a-roo, B,” he said the nicknames you once called him so long ago.

“I don’t remember you,” you cried, “I have to kill you.”

“No you don’t. Those people, they’re not good. They’re not family. They don’t love you. I love you, Steve loves you. Come home,” Bucky sobbed.

He picked up your hand and you looked at him in his vibrant ocean blue eyes. Those same eyes you were always so jealous of growing up.

“Stay here. We can help you remember. We’ll keep you safe, I’ll keep you safe. You’re my sister,” Bucky cupped your face gently.

Your head ached horribly, flashes of memories you didn’t know you had came up and tears flowed down your face.

“I know what it's like to be scared they’re gonna hurt you but I swear on my life, no one’s gonna hurt again. I promise, just come home,” Bucky whispered. The rest of the team watched and anticipated what could happen, complete shock with what was happening in front of them.

You looked at Bucky and your face dropped into an expressionless cold look. He was tricked. He grabbed your hand and pushed away the gun shooting at nothing thankfully. He pinned you under him.

“Get off of me!” you screamed and wiggled.

“Y/n! Please, look at me!” Bucky said.

“I know how you feel. You're confused, angry, helpless. It feels awful, I know.”

“I hate this, I’ve killed so many people,” you cried.

“I know,” Bucky sat up and hugged you.

“You’re safe, with me. Ok?” He said.

“Forever and Always?” you asked.

This was something you always said to each other. You were sort of jealous of Bucky and Steve’s ‘Til the end of the line’ so you came up with ‘Forever and Always’ and it was your promise to be there for each other just like he promised Steve. Bucky’s tears spilled over and he hugged you tightly knowing you were already starting to remember.

“Forever and always, doll.”

=============================

Taglist:

@mathletemadison

#bucky barnes #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #sibling!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x sibling!reader #wintersoldier!reader #bucky barnes smut #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

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jisvnq · 4 years ago

Text

[ 20:25PM ]

title | interruptions

genre | fluff, humor, best friends to lovers but it's what happens after the confession

warnings | none; probably just bad spontaneous writing shdh

word count | 1.5k

requested | by anonymous

description | where jisung knows the moments after his best friend confesses to him that she likes him back aren't supposed to be this awkward, and that just maybe, the third time's the charm ♡

z.txt | idk if i'm happy with this or not lol like it's just a 2am coffee-induced brainfart at it's best have fun reading more brainfarts (the text for the header kinda crapped up but alr sjdhs) watch me post this and dip JSJKSDJ

Jisung let out a deep breath, sneaking a glance at the side of your face as you nervously fiddled with the hem your shirt. He knew you felt the same way as he did, but why was he still so nervous?

"So, uh..." Jisung cleared his throat, breaking the thick silence that fell upon the room. He scooted just a bit closer to you, but you did the same, resulting in your knee bumping his lightly. "Wh- what now?"

Years of watching idiotically romantic movies and binge-watching impossibly unrealistic dramas with you left him with some sort of experience when it came to this love thing, and he just knew that the moments after confessing your love for each other were not supposed to be this awkward.

A thousand thoughts ran through his head. Maybe he did something wrong? Or maybe he said something wrong? What if now wasn't the right time for him to confess? But you had told him you liked him back, so why weren't you doing any—

"W- we could kiss?" you suggested quietly, cheeks warming up at your own suggestion.

"We could wh- what now?" Jisung repeated, feeling as if his ears have fooled him. Did you actually want to kiss him?

"K- kiss," you muttered, looking away from him. "But n- nevermind. I completely understand if you don't want to—"

"But I want to." The words come out of his mouth quicker than his brain could process them, his face slowly growing hot once again.

He clamped his mouth shut when he heard your small giggle, his heart beating at a pace quicker than he had ever thought was humanly possible. Maybe he should take Hyuck's advice and really do think before he speaks...

Your face slowly neared his and he sucked in a breath when he felt yours fan his face. He closed his eyes when your nose touched his and he felt just about ready to faint when your lips lightly brushed against each other—

Then you pulled away. What?

Did he somehow do something wrong this time? No, he doesn't think he did. You initiated it... whatever that was.

Did his breath smell like shit? No, he almost choked on his mouthwash earlier when he heard you knock on his door.

Did he smell like shit? He didn't think so, at least. He took a shower and changed into your favorite hoodie of his as soon as you told him you were coming over. Maybe he should've asked Jaemin to wash the hoodie though...

"Y/n?" he asked concernedly, opening his eyes to see you place a hand over your face. Did he really smell that bad? "Is there anything wrong?"

"I- I just feel like—" you cut yourself off with a sneeze and Jisung jumped a bit. You giggled. "Sneezing. Sorry."

"You scared me," Jisung huffed, heaving out a relieved sigh. "I thought I smelled bad or something there."

"I never said you didn't," you said, biting back a giggle when he makes a face at you. "Kidding! Kidding. You smell like you always do. Like... you."

"And that's a good thing, I hope?" he asked, scrunching his nose at you, finally getting a giggle out of you.

You nodded, scooting closer to him on the couch and giving him a small smile, face right in front of his once again. "Yes. That's a very, very good thing."

"Good," Jisung said, eyes flickering down to your lips. He inhaled and looked back up at your eyes. "So... uh... no more sneezing?"

You shook your head with a chuckle, leaning in even closer to him. "No more sneezing."

He mirrored your smile, closing the gap between you slowly despite his brain screaming at him to hurry up. With you, Jisung had all the time in the world. Besides, it was your first kiss together and it just had to be perfect, right?

Well, not necessarily.

"Well, fucking finally!" someone exclaimed as the door burst open, making you and Jisung fling yourselves to the opposite ends of the couch, cheeks flushing red at the sudden interruption.

"Chenle, you idiot," Renjun sighed as he pushed the younger boy into the hallway.

"Oh, whoops," Chenle grinned sheepishly, catching Jisung's glare. "Sorry."

"Don't mind us~" Jaemin hummed, pushing Haechan and Jeno into the hallway with Chenle and Renjun before any of them could interrupt any more. "We'll be in our rooms if you need us."

An awkward silence once again fell over the room as soon as all the doors closed, both of you refusing to look at each other in the eyes.

Jisung let out a little huff of annoyance and embarrassment. Why hasn't anything gone his way today?

The articulate and carefully worded confession he had prepared for you at least months before today, somehow vanishing as soon as he opened his mouth.

The comfortable atmosphere he had tried his absolute best to set up, disappearing into thin air after you had clumsily voiced out your own feelings for him.

And the perfect first kiss he had originally wanted to give you, left as a passed opportunity as each of your two attempts ended up in unexpected and completely uncalled for interruptions.

He didn't even want to think of anything else that could possibly go wrong.

"Third time's the charm?" you had suggested hopefully, turning your head to look at him.

"A- are you sure you still want to, uh, you know..." Jisung mumbled, looking down at his feet. "Kiss me? Even after everything that's gone wrong?"

You took initiative and slid over to his side of the couch, giving him a soft smile that never failed to melt his heart every single time. "Jisung, I still wanted to kiss you even after you pretty much blew up the whole Chemistry lab in ninth grade."

You chuckled, taking one of his large hands in both of yours. "You smelled like dog piss, your hair was standing up stiff, and you had toxic powder and whatnot all over your face. I don't think anything can top that, and yes, I still want to kiss you, you idiot."

Jisung couldn't help but laugh at the memory, shaking his head when he remembers the disgusted look on your face as you dragged him to the nurse's office, cleaning him up when even the nurse herself didn't dare go near him.

"Even if I'm no good at kissing?" Jisung asked, looking up at you.

"Even if you're no good at kissing," you laughed. "And don't worry, I'm probably just as bad as you are at this stuff. We both aren't single for no reason."

"Maybe we can change that?" Jisung asked, mouth working quicker than his brain once again, his reddening ears making it more obvious. "No, I mean—"

"Actually, I'd like that," you giggled, a wide grin spreading across your face when you see his sheepish smile. "I'd very much like that. So... you're my boyfriend now?"

"I'm your boyfriend now?" Jisung echoed, feeling as if he was in a daze, smile getting way too big as his cheeks began to hurt. Did he just get upgraded from best friend to boyfriend? "That sounds very nice..."

"Yes, yes it does," you said with a chuckle, witnessing the boy's brain turn into complete mush in front of you. "Now... do I get to kiss my boyfriend yet?"

His heart fluttered when you brought your hand up to his jaw, turning his head so he fully faced you. "Maybe, if we don't get interrupted again."

"But if we do get interrupted again?" you hummed, lips against his once again, the awkwardness suddenly gone as you were both filled with giddy excitement from the recent relationship upgrade.

And as if the god of interruptions was listening in on your conversation, just as Jisung opened his mouth to respond, his best friend's timing was impeccable.

"Oops," Chenle snickered, entering the living room once again. "I forgot my airpods—"

And without letting the other boy finish, nor let you shy away from him again, Jisung took a hold of your chin to gently keep you in place as he finally pressed his lips to yours, his brain a few steps late as he let his actions get ahead of himself once more.

"Shit, sorry, Y/n," Jisung apologized with wide eyes and red cheeks, realization of what he's just done hitting him like a brick. "I just— mmf!"

But instead of letting him splutter out an excuse for his spontaneity, you roll your eyes, capturing his lips in another, proper kiss. Until a sneaky little idea popped into your head.

You pushed him further into the couch, making the other boy watching feign retching sounds in the background as the two of you patiently waited until he left, only parting for air when you hear his footsteps finally leave the room.

"You think that'll stop him from interrupting us again?" you asked, giving him a cheeky grin, laughing when you see the dazed smile left on the boy's face.

"I don't know what's kept me from kissing you all these years," Jisung breathed out with a laugh, heart causing ruckus in his ribcage. "But I don't think even Chenle coming in screaming and holding up a bazooka will be able to stop me from kissing you anymore."

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vaguely-gestures-to-the-void · 4 years ago

Text

Hindsight: My thoughts on Loki (2021)

Welcome back! Spoilers below!

I need to clarify that I watch Loki purely as an escape. I've got a biased perspective in that regard because I don’t actively try to find fault with the show, though there are definitely things I’m not so inclined to. This is more of what I noticed and think things mean and it’s something I’m doing for fun. Anyways, here's my thoughts on episode 2 my loves.

Episode 2: THE VARIANT

Pre-title scene

Miss Minutes’ monologue in the recap is different to the one last ep.

1985 Oshkosh, Wisconsin

C-20!

“Today’s guest performances” on a board. Don’t really know if it means anything tho.

The Iconic (TM) I Need A Hero scene.

Pony.

The green tent - the lair of Loki.

I know not everyone’s a fan of the lighting, but it made sense to me. They’re still in the dark about who Sylvie is.

Why does C-20 take off her helmet? For the drama?

I hope Sylvie cleaned her blade. Narnia taught me well.

The Time Samsung (I can’t remember what it’s called right now) says that the date’s 04/12/1985.

Loki’s first mission (?)

‘Volume 26’ - how many of these does Mobius have?? #giveMobiusajetski

“ONLY at your LOCAL AUTHORIZED DEALER” - subtext about the TVA being control freaks? Jet ski safety?

I googled Wake Magazine. They’re up to volume 20 from what I saw, whilst Loki is reading volume 26, so I guess that’s something

Loki and Miss Minutes lmaooo.

Behind Loki’s elbow is the taxidermy something from the last episode. Also confirms that Loki threatened Casey at Mobius’ desk lol.

The thing has an egg?? What the hell is Mobius collecting? (He’s a Harry Hart variant lmao).

There are little twitches in Miss Minnutes’ hands. That’s so cool!

The egg timer’s a nice easter egg (I’m a comedian).

Mobius! B-15! :)

Is it just me or do the minutemen look similar, but not exactly the same. Makes sense if they’re variants.

I just realised the lights are built into the ceiling. Whoops.

What’s Mobius’ favourite?

Couple of things:

The racks full of identical uniforms/ones just hung up on doors.

The music has started to pick up the pace, but not in the way we see later on in the episode.

There’s a sign saying ‘FARE THEE WELL’ on it. Google tells me that it’s ‘used to express good wishes on parting’. Dang that was some good foreshadowing!

The person that looks like Agatha is still present.

I wonder whether it was supposed to be colder or whether the weather was just like that when they filmed.

The pony’s still around.

I think B-15 certainty that “a Loki couldn’t have gotten the jump of C-20” comes from her experience with them. She constantly tries to make it clear that because she’s not a variant, she’d know Loki better than he would, which (personally) makes the revelation that she’s a variant feel more devastating.

Again with the lighting, they’re still in partial darkness, constantly moving in and out of the light. Whilst what Loki says about the variant setting a trap is true, it isn’t in the context that he says it. Sylvie whoops their asses later.

The black and red-orange flags remind me of tomb markers. It’s a stretch, ik.

B-15 only has tally marks on one side of her helmet.

Mobius has fake pockets in his suit jacket. They’re the worst.

The ticking increasing in tempo as they approach red line - great for setting up tension.

I believe that Loki uses personal space like a weapon - slowly approaching them from the front, and then going behind Mobius’ back when he wants his way. It would make anyone uncomfortable, especially on a subconscious level because there’s a threat behind you.

Or maybe it’s that I have different personal space boundaries, not everyone likes being approached from behind. Loki’s movement felt intentional at least.

Getting Mobius to physically turn his way because of that might have been very subtle manipulation?

Loki looking back and forth trying to judge their reactions lol.

I liked the music in this scene, it sets up tension for Loki’s first attempt at betraying Mobius but then doesn’t completely dismiss it when it’s resolved.

Ravonna Renslayer’s office

The music here is 18 morceaux, Op. 72, No. 2. Berceuse. 18 morceaux, Op. 72: No. 2, Berceuse (Arr. For Theremin and piano) by Clara Rockmore for anyone that’s curious. I found out through Natalie Holt’s Twitter (I think).

The score is, and always will be, perfection.

Mobius’ small talk amuses me.

“Why do you get to keep all the trophies from my cases in here, you don’t think I’d love having that roller skate?” Mobius, what about the thing on the shelf behind your desk????

Ravonna seems like she’s answered these questions before, but she has a fondness for him that makes me think they’re good friends.

Also does Ravonna have multiple complete collections of the Encyclopaedia Britannica in her office? What are those books??

“I hope it’s a double.” Me too Mobius, me too (drink responsibly).

I don’t get how people think Mobius doesn’t remember leaving the stains. It sounded like Ravonna was chiding him for a bad habit and Mobius just made up a remark, not confusion.

Although he does place the cup at a different spot to the rings.

The ship flying past in the windows is a wonderful detail.

“The variant likes to stall for time.” It's very satisfying to me how everything stays relevant. Every detail advances the plot/contributes to it.

“Look, I know you have a soft spot for broken things.”

“I don’t think so-”

“Yes you do.”

Both Mobius and Ravonna only look at the middle figure when referring to the time Keepers. Either the other two are side-lined or don’t contribute at all.

“I’ll delete him myself.” At this point in time, I think Mobius is serious. As the episode progresses, his status may have changed, especially after the Jet Ski philosophy session.

Ravonna’s sash on the peg reminds me of the ones the people talking to Casey were wearing in episode 1.

Man those doors are so cool.

Peak sitting outside the principal’s office energy.

Mobius whistles at Loki as opposed to talking to him like he does later.

Any screen shot from the following scene is pristine chaotic disaster bi Loki energy featuring tired-of-your-tomfoolery Mobius.

“Isn’t that precisely why I’m here?” This marked a change in Loki to me. Up until that point, he’d tried to use what he’d known, who he’d been by scheming his way to the Time Keepers. By admitting he wasn’t sure of his purpose, we’re back with the person at the end of the last episode. It’s very Loki to try all avenues to get what he wants, and after having his world turned upside-down a few times in a short period, maybe he just wanted the familiarity of his old tricks, who he thinks he is.

Loki tensing up and then trying to assert control again reaffirms what I just said.

Man, give Mobius a holiday after all of this. Loki really tested him, huh?

Loki definitely likes validation on some level.

TVA archives (a.k.a the Salad Scene)

I can’t believe that place really exists. The looks combined with the music are just *chef kisses*.

I’m not sure if I’m thinking of the right progression, but the music reminds me of a plagal cadence. Google examples and play it side-by-side, you’ll get what I mean, maybe someone knows what it really is?

On either side of the elevators near the Time Keeper statues are the signs TVA archives.

The symmetry pleases my goblin brain.

I believe the entire show was just flexing the skills of the Loki crew and I couldn’t be happier.

“Pretend your life depends on it. I’m gonna get a snack.” This was so funny in the trailers but Mobius is dead serious (delete him myself comment). And he couldn’t even enjoy his salad.

Love that the end of credits takes from some of the scenes in episode 2.

The archivist has neat glasses.

I want some TVA stationary y’all.

It’s that moment fam.

I can’t be the only one curious by the ‘DISPLACED by 000:000:002:162’. Is that in Units? It would explain why the time line looks slightly bendy whenever we see it, especially if Apocalypses are so frequent.

IT’S THE SALAD LADS!

Mobius is reading the magazine that Loki was looking at earlier. Jet skis are Mobius’ comfort character.

“Don’t set fire to the palace.”

Tom Hiddleston has so much energy, he can move so fast.

“Oh God.” - Mobius, Null Time Zone

“YOU.” - Casey, Null Time Zone

Casey!

No thoughts, head empty, the Salad (TM).

But seriously, people only seem to be at their tables with others that work in a similar section. Not hunters and analysts eating in tandem to me, folks.

Oh Casey. Please don’t hurt him.

Aw, Mobius’ little giggle warmed my heart. Owen Wilson’s giving me whiplash with Mobius. My heart can’t take this y’all.

79 AD Pompeii, Italy

They’re both so giddy, Your Honour, I love them.

Mobius snuck them out lol.

“Bird noises?”

“BE FREE MY HORNED FRIENDS, BE FREE!” The post wouldn’t be complete without this.

Loki just throwing food at people and telling them “...enjoy your last meal while you can” is top tier comedy to me.

This is the first time we see Loki openly say nothing matters. I feel like the case file on the destruction of Asgard really pushed him to treat fate as unchangeable.

LXXIX is 79. Nice one Loki crew!

Mobius’ eye twitching as he checks the variance is a nice touch.

Loki throws away the stick that was holding the goat pen closed at the end.

TVA Archives, TVA cafeteria

Mobius picked up those files so smoothly I had to re-watch it.

Their position reflected what they were talking about - when Loki thinks it’s his individual contribution, he’s walking separately to Mobius, but they meet up when working together. I loved the blocking in that little moment.

I seriously thought that Loki was unconscious when I first saw him asleep around Mobius. I’ll admit it, it felt out-of-character for someone with such bad trust issues. Both of them seem pretty tired tho.

It’s the Jet Ski conversation comrades!

I’m beaming. Mobius talking about Jet Skis was the only time I’ve really remembered it’s Owen Wilson talking. It’s such a fun line to think about!

Loki’s smile. Adorable.

Just go watch the scene, it’ll give you good brain juices.

Mobius does it all for the Jet Skis and nothing else. I don’t make the rules, the Time Keepers do.

“My own glorious purpose.” This is a recurring theme in the season. Ultimately, I think that Loki is going to run for as long as it brings in money/until Loki gets killed again. However, I do like to think that in following seasons we’ll move beyond setting up Phase 4 Marvel stuff and just get deep dives into Loki’s character, though it may happen in the later eps or not be as interesting. Part of what made this show so interesting is the new setting in the Marvel universe but it’s hard to make predictions as to whether it will last in a show featuring the God of Mischief. Whatever happens, I’m happy that we got to see Loki’s existential crisis together, lads.

The music picks up, signalling that this quiet moment is about to end.

“No one bad is ever truly bad. And no one good is every truly good.”

“Scared little boy.”

These lines mean a lot to me. Loki perceives Mobius as an equal, similar to himself but not completely identical. The TVA’s whole aesthetic is Kafkaesque (Disney+ used that word), the imperfections keeping the place from looking mechanical and orderly like what the TVA promotes itself to be. Loki wants Mobius to acknowledge it, but Mobius is in the past, not addressing what’s right in front of him, surrounding him. That’s probably because Mobius doesn’t believe, he accepts what he’s been told though Loki wants to change that. He’s still focused on his job, the variant. I don’t think Mobius will struggle against change in the ‘belief’ part as long as things are rational.

Kate Herron (director) said that the Kablooie scene was improv which makes me wish we had more B roll of Owen and Tom. They seem so professional, invested and fun on set.

“No wonder you’re so bitter.” I’m sorry Mobius you sound as salty as your salad.

‘Artificially flavoured chewing gum’ Has something happened causing artificial flavouring to be preferred?

‘Blue’ has canonically changed to ‘Bloo’ by 2050 in America in the MCU. I blame capitalism.

Why does Mobius look so tiny? I say that like Owen Wilson wouldn’t look like a giant next to me lol.

Owen Wilson is 3.5 inches (9 centimetres) shorter than Tom Hiddleston. Yet he is dwarfed as Mobius. I need to stop talking about this and move on.

There’s no ‘variance energy detected’ line in the report.

“You’re gonna take my job if I’m not careful.” Loki looks so chuffed.

One day, I’ll properly address my thoughts on the shipping. Until then, I just want no one to die.

“Yeah, he’s doing great.” Mobius is so hyped. Good for him.

Owen Wilson has dimples.

Ravonna’s screen doesn’t show the timeline like it does later.

Ravonna is the done mom friend. Sane, undeserving of this, please give her a jet ski moment.

Buckle up folks because the last twenty minutes of this episode are my favourite so far.

At 34 minutes in, we get the music fading in with “Okay. But Mobius...” and a transition to my favourite composition so far. Natalie Holt outdid herself. The soundtrack is nearly constant, there’s no break for a moment of clarity anymore. The progression of events is inevitable, tying the bow on a plot line created in an hour and a half. The little embellishment from the strings (possibly) as Mobius and Loki exit is perfect. Combined with Loki’s raised fist leading to a pan to the ceiling, it prepared the audience for everything being turned upside down.

The changing camera angles and shot lengths (the continuous shot when B-15 takes the knives, the circling behind as the briefing occurs) keep viewers on their toes. The continuous shot is fluid, B-15 doesn’t look at Loki or Mobius, her reaction is natural and that just proves that the timing on that scene was impeccable. The circling behind reminded me of Loki positioning himself behind Mobius as he did earlier, but now he’s on the same side, part of the team though he continues to distinguish between himself and the variant. The building sensation that change is coming is met by the incredible swell in the music as we watch the picturesque Haven Hills get destroyed by modern technology and face the terrifying reality that is the Roxxcart store. There’s a close up on the Roxxcart storefront with school buses with the words ‘Evacuation shuttle’ in the background as we see the TVA’s minutemen come out reinforcing that even when the end is nigh, large corporations will loom over. A storm is raging with worse to come. I can go on and on, but you get the point.

2050 Roxxcart Disaster

I love that y’all are calling this the Alabama supermarket breakup. Makes me chuckle, that’s for sure.

I too hate when people can hear my footsteps. Someone that gets the struggle.

Sylvie places the TVA Samsung over a Roxxcart Security manual. She’s overridden both and is in control.

The date is 03/15/2050.

I think that the way the Hunters and minutemen hold their baton things is so that they don’t get yeeted. Neat.

As always, the beats are slick yo.

I hope the Azaleas guy gets some Azaleas wherever he ended up.

I love the way Loki says “In this storm.” It’s so satisfying for no real reason.

The wonderful Wunmi Mosaku does not get the recognition she deserves for this scene. She switched from B-15 to Sylvie so effortlessly. They’re two distinct characters, her facial expressions, body language everything changed in that instant. Even from the one line, “No, they usually survive,” her delivery had changed in a way that was noticeable. It’s uncanny, exactly what was needed when facing a foe that remained unseen. And the smile? It’s before we know the variant as Sylvie, so naturally it’s that signature Loki smile with a hint of malice we associate with the variant. Damn y’all, Wunmi’s incredible! I really hope she’s recognised for being so talented in this series, if not in all her other work!

Mobius really cares about those people. I really want his redemption (?) arc.

It’s been pointed out that even in those conditions, Roxxcart were selling blankets and water. I think it means that by 2050, cash would be defunct. If only electronic payment existed, as long as there’s electricity they can run a business. Chew on that.

If the man they speak to is 50 to 60, he was a 90s kid.

There must be a difference in the reprogramming or kind of variant selected to be a hunter as compared to an analyst. The Hunters look after their own, but the analysts (or Mobius) go as far as empathising with variants.

C-20 is sitting in front of safety standards.

“A bit amateurish.” Loki knows that the variant isn’t as skilled with magic as he is.

As Loki and the possessed people walk, the lighting becomes brighter. He’s moving out of the shadows.

Me too Loki, I’m worried about B-15 too.

Sylvie unironically saying bless is hilarious.

Randy must be hella tall.

There’s a low angle shot as Loki and Randy face off with the flickering light above with a sign hanging above them like a sword of Damocles and a physical separation. Terror is nearly constant in Loki's life now, but he responds by letting go of his drive to survive.

The subtle swells in the music just add to my rising blood pressure.

C-20’s voice over is sad lads.

“I wanna go home,” we know she’s not referring to the TVA.

Mobius seems like a caring person.

When B-15 sits up and searches the room, I think it’s her realisation. Her shiver was from fear and shock, the music wasn’t about her not seeing Loki, it was about the TVA and what had happened to her.

The head snap and the score timing matching. So satisfying.

“I would never treat me like this. Hi.” I think that’s Loki realising that his foe is not willing to talk their way through conflict.

This fight scene contradicts all the magic we see later ik, but if he didn’t want to hurt anyone and was trying to draw out the real enemy it made sense.

Some of Sylvie’s powers must come into the people she possesses. The guy punched a glass screen and didn’t even bleed.

“I have shit to do.” Sylvie wasn’t raised with court etiquette (from what we know) and her lexical choice reflects that.

Dell computers survive into 2050 in the MCU. So do those robot dogs and Roombas. I am only happy about the Roombas. Where did the real dogs go? :(

“Mobius.”

“Where is he?”

“I lost him.”

“What happened?”

“I...”

Until now, B-15’s delivery has felt slightly rhythmic, like she was used to having the same arguments, particularly with Mobius. When she trails off however, I think it’s her trying to rationalise what she’s been through with Sylvie’s possession. Her devotion to the TVA was rooted in the fact that she wasn’t a variant, her life had a purpose and it was intentional. This must have rocked her, I’m invested in where she’ll go.

THE CUT TO BLACK OH GOOD GOSH.

Sylvie, my queen. I’d roll off a cliff for her.

The person with the moustache (you know the one) has pure fear on his face.

Ravonna knows what’s up.

And so do you, yes it’s the music, go listen to it.

THE RED LIGHTING

The zoom out to that incredible hallway shot and then stopping behind the time door. It was never about him after all, he was in the background of her plans.

Sylvie’s wave in Roxxcart vs. Loki’s on the train. Discuss.

The blackout, thunder and Loki’s pause under the flickering red and white light, do y’all really want me to talk about the s y m b o l i s m????

He’s conflicted, you know it, I know it, Mobius knows it.

Speaking of Mobius, there he is, we cut back to Loki and see him make his decision, zooming back in on him.

And with that final flourish in the score, we are done with episode 2!

Cue the most amazing end credits score you’ll ever hear.

Do yourself a favour, listen to all of it, including the part after the main credits, both are Works. Of. Art.

Ep 2 review

In case you didn’t notice, this is my favourite episode so far. There are parts I didn’t take to as much, but details from the previous episode being used in the plot as well as others being explained by Sylvie in episode 3. Rewatching it was easier than episode 1 though it left me wanting more. It will get more interesting from here, but until then, that was a fun romp.

See y'all next time. I hope whoever's reading this has a wonderful day!

Part 1, Episode 1 extend review link:

#spoilers #loki review #Loki spoilers #my respect for people that write scripts/analysis of any kind has increased immensely.#opinion #things i've noticed #sorry if they're not original #b-15 deserves love #the analysts (mobius) the hunters the minutemen casey every one of them deserves love #here's to everyone who worked so hard and put so much into this series #WUNMI MOSAKU IS AMAZING #I love Ravonna #It's great

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ngame989 · 5 years ago

Text

“Enough” - TGG SVTFOE Fanfic Collection Ch. 11

Writing: @ngame989

Art: @toxicpsychox

Musical Arrangement: @ubercelloczar

Editing: @ubercelloczar, @seddm

Alternate fic links - FFnet, AO3

Summary: Star, Marco, Tom, and Janna reflect on their pasts, arrive at a crossroads in the present, and make decisions about their futures when Echo Creek Academy hosts a dance with an uncannily familiar theme.

Comic Page

Masterpost

Merry Christmas, happy holidays, happy New Year! This is a very special chapter, slightly breaking the tradition of having its poster be a Polaroid photo (though one of those will be coming soon lol). Also, this was inspired by an actual real life event, Google the date for yourself. MASSIVE thanks to my friend @ubercelloczar for the musical arrangement - I can’t embed it partway through so I’ll just link it when the time comes. Hope you enjoy!

Red. All these years, and she was just now realizing how little red there was in her expansive collection of outfits. Star could probably count on one hand the number of times she’d worn anything in that color besides Marco’s oversized hoodies. Though for all intents and purposes she’d moved into Marco’s room over a year ago, most of her clothes were still kept in her old room at Angie’s insistence. You leave pajamas in the mailbox ONE TIME and suddenly everyone’s all “please use a closet, Star.” Her fingers fondly brushed over the fabrics of dozens of dresses and skirts she owned. The turquoise with the narwhal? Timeless classic, though a bit worse for wear after so many life or death incidents on Mewni. Purple with suspenders? Eh, not so much… for whatever reason she just hadn’t felt like wearing that in a while. Her sleeveless sky blue dress, on the other hand, had made its way back into her rotation after the dimensions cleaved. Why, she couldn’t say, though she tended to skip the leg warmers these days. The pink overalls with the cute skirt were one of her favorite buys on Earthni - the perfect blend of dimensional fashions.

Minutes passed as she reminisced, her wardrobe a library unveiling its stories as her eyes roved its contents. One random winter night came to mind at the sight of her rarely used fuzzy yellow jammies. The heater had been on the fritz, so she and Marco had cuddled up even closer than normal. Her brain had been too frozen to think straight at the time, but in hindsight it was one of her favorite memories - spending all night watching movies with family, hot cocoa by the gallon, and holding Marco tight did more to warm her soul than any heater ever could. Some more notable memories were captured in the attire too, like the lavender dress she’d planned to wear to her first school dance before ditching it to resurrect a clown; the Love Sentence concert tee she’d made; her green dinosaur dress, captured forever on that fateful photo strip.

Experiences shared with Marco stood out among the rest - they usually did anyway, but tonight perhaps more than most, and for good reason. She’d once obsessed over a tattered, stinky hoodie of his as a source of calm and stability for some of the harshest weeks in her life, but tonight she felt like she was at her highest point. When her eyes finally spotted her target, the reason she had even been rummaging around an old closet and choking on enough dust to fell an adult warnicorn, her small, nostalgic smile stretched into a wide grin laden with too many emotions to count. If there’s any night to wear red, this is it, Star thought as she slipped into the silky dress awaiting her.

After all, she and Marco were once again going to a Blood Moon Ball.

Six Weeks Earlier

“Not sure if we’ll be able to pull this off, Diaz. They’ve got us surrounded.” Steam rolled out of Star’s mouth with the words, threatening to give away their location. She shivered despite the warm pink fleece she wore; the wind today was so chilly that even Marco had donned a winter jacket over his hoodie. They were in the midst of a battle, nay, an all-out war. We’ve got one, maybe two dozen? We’re doomed.

Where Star faltered, Marco’s resolve was firm. “Our only option is a last stand. I can lead a strong forward assault and draw fire long enough for you to flank their offense.” They’d found a secure location with solid cover, but it severely limited their scouting ability. Marco lowered his hood and stole a glance above the metal behind them, ducking back down instantly. Snow had already accumulated on his lashes and glittered softly in the sunlight, but Star couldn’t afford to linger on that image. It was do or die.

He took her hands and pulled her close, almost touching their noses. “If I don’t make it, Star, I want you to take care of Nachos for me, OK?” He scooped up his armful of snowballs and moved into position.

She theatrically reached out a hand towards him right as he got to the threshold of safety. “I’ll never forget you Marcoooo…” she whispered loudly. The pair giggled as Star grabbed her ammunition. “Alright, enough of that. Ready?”

“Ready.”

Marco dashed around the playground slide and into the fray. Right as Star followed, she heard him yelp and fall into the soft snow coating the playground, three enemy combatants hovering over him and pelting him mercilessly. “Marco!” Star yelled and trudged over with the gleeful cheers of their enemy ringing in her ears. “Speak to me, Marco! Don’t leave me!”

“Star… Remember me...” He grunted and let his head drop into the snow.

“Noooooooooo!” With one final breath, she flopped on top of him and accepted death by a thousand snowballs.

One extra large hunk of snow, far too large to have been thrown by any of the kids, exploded on Star’s back and coated her entirely in soft white fluff. Star heard the warm rumble of Antonio’s hearty chuckles at his successful finishing blow. “Alright, kiddos, your families are here. Have a happy break!” His beefy hand grabbed Star’s own and easily hefted her to her feet before doing the same for Marco. How the heck he was OK in the cold with just an ear-flappy-hat and his usual flannel shirt, she’d never know.

Star dusted herself off and watched the children skip through the snow - a much smaller group than usual, since it was the last evening shift before Christumpmasday break. Most were eager to return to their families, though Star had to help two little girls finish building their snowlizard and take a few pictures before they were willing to leave without bursting into tears; in their defense, it was a ridiculously cute and fun snowlizard. And with that, it was finally holiday break time!

As they walked back to the Center with Antonio, Star took in the sight of the campus covered in fresh snow. The sparkling white planes draped across the pristine Earth architecture contrasted with the raw, natural aesthetic of snow and ice intermingled with remnants of a once-thriving Mewman village, but it all blended together into something unique and beautiful. She caught Marco transfixed with a goofy smile on his face, in awe of her as much as she was with the world, and her cheeks flushed a tiny bit more than they’d already done in the cold. The crunch of snow underfoot and the gentle whooshing of the wind as they swung their joined hands back and forth were the only sounds disturbing this peaceful, perfect moment.

“Merry Christumpmasday, Antonio!” Star shouted as she gave her boss-slash-friend a big hug, and he laughed and returned the gesture with enough strength to lift both Star and Marco off the ground a little.

“Same to you two. Thanks again for staying late, I feel bad about keeping anyone here like this. My husband’s still out of town until tomorrow so home, work, it’s all the same to me, personally. Wish your whole family the best for me.” After saying their goodbyes, Star and Marco walked back out into the cold where their ride was waiting.

“Hey, girl” Marco’s voice was tender as he adjusted Nachos’ cute winter cap and stroked her back. As he was testing his foothold to make sure he wouldn’t slip and faceplant while trying to hop on, Antonio peeked his head out the door.

“Wait, before you go… an elderly lady gave me this flier for some kinda dance.” He scratched his chin through his beard. “Dunno why she brought it here of all places, but since I had it, I thought I might as well pass it along.”

“Oh, is it for that big dance the high school is throwing for all the teens in town?” Marco asked.

“Seems so. Maybe she just got confused about what kinds of kids it was for,” Antonio said, lightly chuckling. “January 30, it says, and it’s an all-nighter; that’s quite the shindig. If Earthni parties are anything like my high school days, it’s probably best I give you the whole next day off,” he said with a wink and a smirk.

All night dance? Even the Bounce Lounge was rarely that crazy - what was so special about this? Antonio handed the flier to Star and Marco who took hold of the other side of it, moving it between them as they gaped in shock at its contents.

“No way, there’s no way, what the-” she and Marco muttered in perfect unison. “Are you- seeing this? It can’t- how did-” They started and stopped as their attempts to stop copying each other canceled each other out.

Marco blinked a few more times to finally pry his eyes away from the page. “Well, eclipses do happen pretty often on Earth, I guess...” They both glanced incredulously back and forth between each other and the flier before the tension in their shoulders finally dropped. An unspoken agreement had been made: they might as well give this dance a shot. Star took one last look at the flier before hopping on Nachos, stuffing it into her jacket and wrapping her arms around Marco’s midriff for the ride home, its words emblazoned in her mind.

January 30-31, 2018. Super Blue Blood Moon Eclipse Extravaganza at Echo Creek Academy! Come dance under the red light of the lunar eclipse!

***

Present Day

“OK, Diaz, let’s see what you’ve got. Sweat prevention, check,” he noted with a quick whiff of his armpits. “Outfit, check.” Bright red dress shirt, sharp black jacket, sleek black tie. Marco posed in the bathroom mirror a few times, getting everything in order for a night he’d been looking forward to for months. “Hair, check.” It was just his usual style, but it never hurt to make sure it was ready to go. Looking good, Diaz.

His stare lingered in their bedroom mirror for a moment too long as thoughts began racing through his mind. Was he nervous? Marco Diaz, nervous for a big night with the girl he loved? More often than not Star was his reason not to be nervous about anything, but this was their first big formal dance as a couple and he did have a pretty dicey history with those. And what were the odds that it was on the night of the Blood Moon again? He wasn’t exactly worried about the curse, per se - there was some caveat or another in demon lore that the Blood Moon could only impart its curse when shining through a special Underworld crystal, the very same one embedded in the roof of the Lucitor ballroom years ago, Relicor had assured them. And it’s not like it even did anything bad to them in the first place, right? Marco still stood by his own words - it was all baloney. Still though, it did leave him with a decision to make. He experimentally put on his Día de Los Muertos mask and turned his head a bit. Should he?

“I don’t think I ever told you how cute you look in that mask.” He’d gotten pretty good about anticipating Star’s sudden appearances but had been caught up in his own mind enough that he still jumped a bit, much to her amusement. “Buuuuuuuut…” she drawled as she swiftly stepped forward and snatched it off his head. “I like your face more.” She grinned and pinched his cheek before they both stopped to truly look at each other. They hadn’t seen each other’s outfits ahead of time but as always they’d been on the same page. “I like the rest of you, too,” she muttered, biting her lip. Marco felt his cheeks turn the same color as his shirt at the comment, but also at her own appearance. Two wavy strands of hair in front of her ears framed her adorable face, though her hair had otherwise been left down as normal. Her red dress had a lone heart clasp on one shoulder, a pattern of moons and stars on a dark band circling the waist, a knee-length wavy skirt that gently swished as she rocked back and forth, and black high heels.

“Wow,” he uttered.

“You like it?” Star asked hopefully. “I thought, well, I didn’t want to go too over-the-top and wear the old Blood Moon Ball outfit but I still wanted to fit the theme so-”

“You’re beautiful,” Marco stated. Not that she’d needed to be wearing an incredible evening dress for him to think that, and he knew she knew that too, but she was still making him a bit dizzy right now. “Wait-” he stopped her when she tried to move in for a kiss, leaning back to their nightstand. He grabbed her horns and gently placed them on her head, brushing a wayward strand of hair back into place. “Perfect.” He leaned forward to kiss her, seeing her doing the same as his eyelids closed, and-

“Mijos!” Star and Marco’s eyes opened, freezing in place so close together that her breath tickled his lips, staring at each other for a second before turning towards the door. Daaaaad. “Oh, sorry, did we interrupt a moment?” We? Rafael stepped aside to reveal all their parents, plus Eclipsa and Globgor, crammed into the hallway. Star took Marco’s hand as they separated.

“Eeeee!” Eclipsa squealed in delight. “You two are absolutely precious. Come downstairs, loves, we must take your picture.”

“I’ve got two backup rolls of film!” Angie chimed in as Moon herded them all down the stairs and out of the way.

Marco looked at Star, who was goofily smiling at him as she squeezed his hand. It wasn’t that he minded being affectionate with Star around friends and family - heck, his own parents were still the most overtly lovey-dovey couple in the house - but he couldn’t help a bit of embarrassment when they were the center of attention like that. After double checking to make sure they had everything they needed, the pair headed out and walked down the stairs together to the oohs and aahs of their families. Star’s parents merely watched while Marco’s both wielded cameras, snapping pictures fervently. Nachos wasn’t due for another few minutes, so they decided to just endure the gauntlet.

“Didn’t think a sort-of-school dance was such a big deal,” Star murmured. Eclipsa sat down on the arm of the couch next to Globgor while Moon daintily folded her hands in her lap on the opposite side with River squished between her and the size-shifter.

“Well, when Marco left for Mewni, we were worried he’d never get to have a prom,” Angie cheerily responded, having evidently heard Star’s comment. “This is basically the same thing, though. Raf, honey, remember our prom?”

“Oh, yes, it was delightful,” he said, finally lowering the camera and turning to address the others on the couch. “We had actually just broken up that morning and went separately, but your mother just happened to walk directly into me as the slow music started and we ended up waltzing the night away. That was the last time we had to get back together.” How many details about my parents have I missed? Marco wondered to himself, before realizing he likely didn’t want to know quite a few of them and shuddering a bit. Still, it was better than being endlessly fawned over, so Marco stood perfectly still and shut his mouth.

Eclipsa set a hand on Globgor’s shoulder, smiling fondly. “Globgor and I met at a dance too! Well, not quite a ‘dance’, I suppose... he twirled me out of the way of an assassin’s arrow, and I swept him off his feet, but the principle seems about the same to me.”

“I was about to eat a guard until she blasted me to the ground. She cast a spell on me in more ways than one.” Globgor laughed. “Though the literal one was very painful,” he added seriously.

“Well, River and I had been to our share of Silver Bell Balls and other royal festivities,” Moon chimed in. “Though when I was Star’s age we weren’t together yet, and I was very focused on the kingdom by the time things were calm enough to enjoy them properly…”

“And now our little girl is going to big fancy galas with a handsome young man. Next thing you know she’ll be setting out on her own, never needing her parents again!” River wailed, clutching Moon’s arm. Well, the diversion was good while it lasted.

“River, please,” Moon gently chided. “You two are quite the adorable couple, though. Though I never wished to interfere in your personal affairs on Mewni, I am certainly glad things eventually worked out as well as they did.”

Eclipsa strolled over and enveloped both of them in a hug. “You two look positively astonishing together,” she cooed before releasing them to take them in one at a time. “Star, darling, you’re as stunning as I’ve ever seen you. And Marco...” She paused, placing her hands on his shoulders. Her purple eyes were laden with unbridled affection as they looked him up and down, her lips turning upward in as sincere a smile as he’d seen her display. “Marco, you sweet young man… You’re quite lucky to have each other, you know. Perhaps it’s not my place to say, but I’m so proud of how you’ve grown these past few years. Now have fun tonight, this is great practice for a certain other first dance I see in your future,” she finished with a wink, causing his blush to return with a vengeance.

“Picture time!” Rafael singsonged, getting up close and flashing a camera near Marco’s face. “Do some fun poses! Give the people what they want! We are not going to miss any more of our son’s major life moments!” His voice was filled with determination to the point of sounding angry, and Marco’s eyes widened in part sympathy, part stark terror. Minutes flew by as Star and Marco supplied their families’ demands, exhausting both the traditional prom shots and their signature poses: back-to-back, too cool for school, Star pinching his cheeks, drowning in a monster’s stomach acid… the list seemed endless, and though goofing around with Star was always fun, he’d been anticipating the dance so long that every second of delay felt like torture. Finally, Marco breathed a sigh of relief when his dad moaned in dismay at the camera clicking without anything happening; he was out of film.

“Oh dear, only one left,” Angie echoed. “Let’s get a nice one of a kiss. Don’t be shy.”

“Well, Marco? Shall we?” Star threw him a flirtatious grin, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He opened his mouth to respond with a quip of his own when he heard wheels screeching to a stop outside. Sweet freedom. “Well, that’s our ride!” Marco stated a bit too forcefully, breaking away from Star and heading towards the door to greet Nachos. Flying in on a dragoncycle would be a major departure from whatever prom fantasies about picking up Jackie in a limo he’d had as a kid, but he still wanted to do something special with a traditional flair. She snorted and cackled when the door opened and revealed his grand prom surprise: Nachos with a top hat and bow tie.

“Marco, what did you do to her?”

“Well, it’s prom, so our ride needs to be the fanciest it can be,” he giggled as she rolled her eyes. “Only the best for you, m’la-”

When Star’s lips cut him off sweetly as she tugged him closer, suddenly Marco didn’t mind staying a little bit longer, and the snap of his mother’s camera seemed to agree.

***

Chaos. Compared to any dance Star had been to before, this was the best kind of chaos. The energetic beat of the electronic music thrummed in her ears as her hips swayed and arms waved in the air. She wasn’t sure exactly how many people had shown up, but the gymnasium of Echo Creek Academy was more packed than she’d ever seen it. Still, it wasn’t so cramped that she had no room to get her groove on; when her butt bumped into Marco beside her, it was by choice as she slyly grinned at her boyfriend in his red shirt, now sans jacket. He smirked back at her and set his feet in place, slicing his hands wildly through the air. “I thought you didn’t like the sword-hand dance,” Star loudly spoke into his ear, though it was a whisper relative to the volume of the music and crowd.

“Yeah, but if everyone else is gonna do it anyway, I might as well own it.” They locked eyes as she began to mirror him, mimicking his karate poses in time with the music. He abruptly grabbed both her hands and swung them up and down, laughing as they just shook everything they had without a care in the world. She yanked him towards her and spun them both around, their backs flush against each other as they kept bouncing to the rhythm.

“Woop, woop! Starco in da HOUSE!” Ponyhead stuck her horn between them, forcing them apart as she floated up and down.

Tom also made his way beside them, drink in hand. “Anyone else want punch?” He lowered the plastic cups he’d been levitating over the crowd into Star and Marco’s hands, and Pony’s tongue. “Gotta say, this is pretty good punch. What kind of blood is it? Centaur? Unicorn? Oooooh, I’ve heard that giraffigator blood is hot these days.”

Marco eyed his cup warily. “What the heck is a giraffigat-”

“WHAT’S THIS ‘BOUT UNICORN BLOOD?” Pony screamed, getting up in Tom’s face.

Star quickly separated them, holding her hands up to try and ease her friends. “Guys, guys, there’s no actual blood in it, I think it’s just citrus.” Well, she was fairly sure. She took one trial sip, tasting the sweet flavor of- “Wait, yep, this is blood,” she said disgustedly after she spit it back into the cup.

“More for me, then,” Tom said nonchalantly, as he snatched Marco’s cup and took another swig while Pony floated in circles grumbling. It seemed like the DJ was taking a break from the upbeat dancing music for now, so the group made their way to the outskirts of the gymnasium where they’d left their belongings. Star laid down on the bleachers, resting her head on Marco’s lap after he’d put his jacket back on and sat down. He stroked her hair with his thumb as they relaxed after an intense hour of dancing. It struck her that this was actually the first time she’d ever truly had carefree fun at a formal dance. The original Blood Moon Ball left her with very mixed feelings to say the least, and her one experience with an Earth dance had been a bit of a disaster even though she didn’t actually go. Time had largely expunged the lingering venom she’d directed at herself for her relationship mistakes after returning to Mewni, leaving some life lessons and fond memories; but even some enjoyable fiery dances with Tom didn’t change the fact that the Silver Bell Balls were stuffy political dramafests. She reached up and intertwined her fingers with Marco’s, squeezing his hand and beaming at him - this was more like it.

“You know, I will say, this DJ is killing it tonight,” Pony said as she returned. “I was kinda expectin’ something lame but this is the best party I’ve been to since the Bounce Lounge closed.” Star nodded in agreement.

Tom leaned back and crossed his legs a few rows below them, taking a sip from his second cup so far. “Oh, yeah, I know him, he’s actually the cousin of my old anger management coach. His name’s Kim H. Brian.”

“I thought your coach’s name was Brian,” Marco responded.

“Yeah, Brian Brian.”

“Get outta t- wait, the Kim H. Brian?” Star bolted up at Marco’s words and they stared at each other incredulously.

“The producer of Love Sentence’s most controversial album, Prison Breakup?” Star and Marco said simultaneously.

“That’s the one,” Tom said, chuckling a bit. “Only you two could still say entire sentences at the same time without a demonic curse.” He stared into his drink for a few seconds, his visage suddenly becoming completely somber. All three eyes closed as he took a deep breath before floating up and sitting next to the couple. “Look, about the whole Blood Moon thing-”

Hold on, was he still in a twist about this? “Tom, it’s fine!” Star said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We broke the Curse, you apologized, it’s all good.”

“I know, but it’s not that- after we went to the Severing Stone, deep down I knew that the Curse wasn’t why you two had those feelings, but I just kept pretending because I still liked you, Star. If I hadn’t been so caught up in that, maybe it wouldn’t have taken so damn long to sort our mess out. I know it doesn’t matter anymore, but… I guess the dance just got me thinking again about friendship and love and stuff. So if you’re OK with it, I actually asked Kim to do a little something special for you two later, to help give you the Blood Moon Ball you deserve,” he finished with a toothy smile.

Star’s eyes started to mist up; Tom had always been supportive of Star and Marco since they’d all sorted themselves out, but it never failed to move her. Star lunged forward, wrapping herself around him in a bear hug, and Marco followed suit. “Toooooom, that’s so sweet!”

“Yeah, man, that’s really-” Marco was stopped by the sudden intrusion of Ponyhead into their little moment.

“Hey, Lucitor, do you know where Janna went? I’ve been TRYING to ask her for the hot deets on totally eligible bachelors here. You know, name, height, bank account balance: the usual business. So anyway she hasn’t been, like, responding at all and I’m starting to worry I might not be able to score a good enough rebound to make Seahorse see that he made the biggest mistake of his life letting me dump him!”

Marco nodded toward the still-in-progress group hug. “Little busy?”

“Yeah, whatever, save your huggy feeltime for later, this is im-por-tant.”

“OK, fine,” Tom said, extricating himself from the embrace. “I haven’t seen her for a while but I can help look. It’s Janna, so she’s probably just splicing some gargoyle DNA to a class hamster or something.”

“Last I saw, she was by the old photobooth.”

Wait, that had survived? Star and Marco exchanged shocked glances at the thought of the site of their first kiss having survived the whole way to Earthni.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Marco asked. Star grinned and nodded, grabbing his hand to run off and make even more memories.

***

Janna Ordonia had never been more scared in her entire life. Okay, maybe that time a monster guy exploded into dust a few feet in front of her was more viscerally terrifying, but Janna was used to freakiness and death even before she’d spent so much time in the literal Underworld. Tonight, though? The pit in her stomach that left her unable to speak, unable to think, was something almost alien to her. She had so much unique expertise in dealing with all things mystical and macabre that it took something completely and utterly human to faze her, and now she found herself staring in a mirror struggling to cope.

Janna Ordonia had caught feelings.

She’d always known she had a thing for the spooky and supernatural, so an attraction to a half-demon with two horns, three eyes, and purple skin was basically inevitable. It hadn’t bothered her like this when she’d had a casual fling with a talking skeleton years ago, either. The only logical conclusion she could draw was that whatever she was feeling now was a different beast altogether. The night had started out so pleasantly: the Lucitors had invited her over for a casual dinner beforehand - whatever meat the Underworld used for burgers was damn good - and they’d taken the carriage together to the dance afterwards.

It just made practical sense, it didn’t mean anything, I don’t WANT it to mean anything. Some variant of this refrain had been repeating in her mind a lot lately, but staring at her own reflection, it felt thinner with every passing second. If it was true, she probably wouldn’t even be here now; she could be doing way cooler things with the night of an ultra-rare eclipse than drinking cheap punch and shuffling awkwardly on the dance floor to chart-topping pop trash. But Tom had seemed excited at the prospect, and the next thing she knew she had picked out a simple black dress with pink highlights - hell, it was even Tom’s nonjudgmental support that had given her the confidence to wear her secret favorite color more in the first place. One way or another, everything seemed to circle back to one simple fact. Each day spent learning about the Underworld and adventuring in its depths was obviously worthwhile on its own merits, but it was always better with him. If she couldn’t stop this storm brewing inside, then the only thing left was to take control of it on her own terms. Well, this is it, Janna. You have a serious crush on Tom Lucitor.

By the time her mind had finished processing its own confession, she’d already made her way back to the gym and meandered to a vacant corner to watch idly by herself, not unlike how she’d spent most of the dance so far. They’d arrived from the Underworld fashionably late and it had only taken a few minutes for Janna to ditch her friends and hide while she moped about her feelings, but of course as soon as she wanted company again there was none to be found. She huffed and pulled out her phone, switching between a few games to occupy the time.

“Hey.” She looked up to find Tom holding two glasses. “Anything fun going on in this empty corner?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty intense over here. Some dust bunnies got in a street fight.” She smirked and stole one of his glasses, raising it to her lips for a sip.

“Wait, don’t, that’s-” It tasted funny, fruity and sweet but with a metallic tang. “Blood.” Ah. She considered it for a moment before deciding to take another sip. She’d had worse. “Anyway, where have you been? We basically haven’t seen you since we got here.”

“Oh, you know, nowhere and everywhere. It’s what I do,” she deflected. “Where’re the others?” Star and Ponyhead were forces of nature when it came to stealing the spotlight, so Janna figured they were her best shot at getting through the night with minimal awkwardness.

“We were taking a break and then they ran off to a photobooth. I still don’t really get the hype, but you know how it is with them.”

“Yeah, it’s gross.”

“Yep…” They both fell silent, continuing to drink what was supposedly some kind of real blood punch as the dance droned on in the background. “Hey, so, uh, can we talk for a sec? About… us?”

She tried her damnedest to suppress the unexpected surge of conflicting emotions, burying her face in her cup until she thought she could reliably answer. One time, when they were in elementary school, she’d poured milk down Marco’s shirt at lunch and a few other girls had teased her, insisting that meant Janna had a crush on him. She never really understood that connection - she just kinda liked pranking Marco - but the taunts had gotten to her. There was a sort of pride she felt in being inscrutable, an enigma that could only be unraveled on her own terms. Had he figured her out so easily when she herself had been in denial? A mumbled “uh, sure” was the best she could as she ran through the last few months in her head trying to figure out if she’d betrayed her feelings.

“It’s pretty loud in here, can we head outside?” Janna only nodded in response, her own racing thoughts drowning out her surroundings. The DJ was announcing some kind of special song request as the gym doors closed behind them and they stepped out into the chilly winter air. “Oh, right, um-” Tom quickly took his jacket off, handing it to her. “Since it’s cold, and I can make my own fire, and-”

“Thanks,” she gruffly said, putting her arms through it. Damn him. She was cold, and he was being thoughtful and helpful, but it only made the upcoming conversation even more difficult for her to have. One hand idly pawed through the enchanted storage compartment she’d fitted in her dress (even in formalwear, she considered function most important). Damnit, she’d left her entire arsenal at home, save for a prototype glass bottle that would harmlessly evaporate on impact, which was filled with some leftover antigravity potion - no easy way out of this, then.

“No problemo,” he drawled, pointing finger guns at her before jamming both hands into his pockets and staring at the ground. “Since Star and I broke up, I’ve been trying really hard to just be my own person. Heck, you’re the one that showed me that’s what I needed to focus on. I had no clue what I was doing.... Honestly, I still don’t.” He paused again, turning back towards the school. “Being here, it just makes it hard to ignore how things have been kinda, you know, weird lately, between…” A little fireball coming off his finger zigzagged back and forth between them.

Why was he so insistent on bringing this up? “Look, Tom, we don’t have to-”

He turned back towards her “Yes, Janna, I think we do! If we don’t deal with it now it’s only going to get worse, and I don’t- I can’t-”

“Dude, drop it, OK? Let’s just go back inside so we can-”

“NO!” A puff of flame shot out of his head but quickly dissipated, leaving only a lingering sizzle and water in his eyes. “I can’t do this anymore! I like you, Janna. I really like you, and it’s screwing everything up.” ...wha? There were a few hundred possible ways Janna thought to respond, but none even made it beyond a guttural yelp in her throat, so Tom continued unabated. “I know you’re you, and you can stay really chill about stuff even when you care a lot, but I can’t, OK? You’re clever and fearless and everything’s more fun with you. You’re one of my best friends and that’s why I couldn’t keep doing this without telling you even if I’m probably making a complete idiot of myself right now.” Every second that Janna remained utterly paralyzed on the spot left Tom’s eyeliner even more streaked as his tears rained down, each tiny splash hissing on the cold pavement and melting the nearby snow and ice. “Yeah, OK, I get it. Look, forget I said anything, I just want to still be friends, OK? I- I totally get if you want some space for a while, so I’ll just- alright, bye.” He wiped off his face with his sleeve and turned around, floating off the ground and flying back into the building, leaving Janna alone on the sidewalk.

The oncoming shivers in Janna’s spine provided the final push to lift the dense fog clouding her mind. He’d just confessed to her, he had a crush on her, and she’d basically just snapped his heart in two. Pangs of guilt and sorrow and joy all ganged up on her; was this how bad things had been for Star and Marco? She almost felt sorry for ribbing them about their romantic struggles now. At this point the only thing left to do was to find Tom, so she sprinted into the building after him, braving the fray of the dance floor once more.

Can’t be that hard to spot a tall set of horns with three eyes. Even though there were all sorts of monsters in attendance, there were very few demons, but that didn’t seem to help her locate him. He wasn’t responding to her texts either, ugh! As Janna kept looking around, she realized she didn’t recognize anyone here. She’d left Echo Creek Academy at the same time as Marco but didn’t go to college, nor had she spent a ton of time with Mewni’s teenage population before the Cleaving. The Underworld was what she knew best; it was where she’d felt most at home, even with two whole dimensions merged together, and that realization spurred her to keep searching. Janna barged through another door into the hallway and rounded a corner, instantly colliding with someone.

“Ex-CUSE me! Watch your freaking face before I pulv-” Ponyhead shouted, shaking her hair back into place after being bumped into the locker. “Oh, it’s you, girl! Where you been? And is that Tom’s jac-”

“Tom. Have you seen him?”

“Oh, I see how it is, first Starco gets their own flipping song and runs outside to go boink under the moonlight or whatever, then my boyfriend runs off to sell a toaster or whatever, then Tom comes in here all moody and doesn’t want to talk to me, and now you’re abandoning me too? I feel like I’ve barely been around you guys lately, why does no one want to spend time with Ponyhead?”

“Wait, didn’t you dump- never mind, Pony, this is important, OK? I seriously blew it, I need to talk to him-”

“Hey, woah, is there some drama going on here? Shoot, why didn’t you say so? OK, so, he was floating around in circles out here for a bit. I came out here to do my bi-hourly makeup check just a minute ago and I do believe he was going back into the gym, mmhm, yes, that is where he was. Go do whatchu gotta do and give me the juicy deets after, mmkay?” Ponyhead winked and whacked Janna on the back with her horn.

Janna ran back into the gym and finally spotted Tom standing in the center of the floor, uninterestedly swaying back and forth to the beat of some crooning couple’s ballad. When his eyes met hers, his gaze became visibly pained as he turned to walk away. “Tom!” Her pleading shout was emphatic enough to keep him from running, but it also attracted an audience and left her standing there, too uncomfortable to speak.

Janna put one foot forward, then another, then another, willing herself forward against her better judgment. She’d frankly had enough: enough talking about her feelings, enough uncertainty about her own relationships, enough giving a single damn about “what-if”s. There’d be plenty of time later to tell him he was her best friend too, to assuage his doubts, and to put more meaningful words to her own feelings, but for now, she had settled on a course of action that began with reaching into her pocket to pull out the lone potion bottle within.

“Uh, Janna, what-” Tom stammered, a different kind of concern than the one he’d been stewing in all night bubbling up in his expression as the crowd backed up slightly. Some tiny voice in the back of her mind registered that they seemed nervous to the point of being frightened, and that comforting feeling pushed her to do the one last thing she needed to do. Before he could react, she slammed the bottle to the ground at her feet and felt the weak antigravity effect take hold. Janna closed the last few steps of distance to Tom, firmly grabbed both his shoulders, and kicked off the ground, crashing her lips into his as she hovered a few inches off the dance floor. Tom unconsciously did the same, letting her momentum carry both of them into the air until the confused, but cheering, audience was beneath them.

As he started to return the kiss, he hesitantly placed one arm on her waist and another behind her back to keep them from drifting apart, and Janna wasn’t sure she’d ever felt so secure.

***

Alright, that’s the last of them. Marco finished carefully stacking the photo strips in Star’s bag while he waited for her to return from the restroom. The photobooth had thankfully been a much more fun and much less emotionally exhausting experience this time around, though a very smug Ben Photino had still greeted them when they were done, $650 richer than before.

Now’s my chance, Star thought as she snuck up and affectionately pounced on Marco from behind. Nearly everything about tonight had been perfect so far - just her, Marco, and their friends getting a night of dancing and partying she wasn’t sure she’d ever forget. For so much of her life, it had seemed like nothing important could ever happen without a sizable dose of drama and conflict; by comparison, this all seemed like a dream, and she didn’t want to wake up anytime soon. Speaking of her friends, though… “Hey, where are the others?” She felt a bit guilty over ditching everyone else to go back to the booth for corn knows how much time, but she was certain they wouldn’t have gone too far.

“Not sure,” Marco responded, craning his neck and spotting a tuft of pink spiky hair and two brown horns across the gym. Why was he heading for the exit?

Marco started to lead the way across the gym floor when the sound system screeched with audio feedback and boomed with the sound of tapping a microphone. “Echo Creek, are we having fun tonight?” the DJ, Kim H. Brian, asked the cheering crowd. “We’re gonna keep this party flowing, but right now we have a very special song for all the soulmates out there, so get ready to twist and twirl your special guy or girl.” Star and Marco tentatively stopped in their tracks.

“Is that-” Marco started.

“What Tom was talking about?” Star finished. “We have to get him before he misses it!” What did you do this time, Tom?

(LINK TO AUDIO)

They had made it to the center of the dance floor when the lights dimmed and tinted red. It was obviously from a stage light, but the effect still flooded them with the same hopes and wants and fears from their run-ins with the Blood Moon. Marco gently smiled and took the lead, keeping one hand in hers and tugging her closer with the other on her waist. Piano chords opened the piece - a slow waltz - and Star and Marco were taking their first steps when the cello started to play a hauntingly familiar melody. It struck them both at the same time - this was the same tune that had played when they danced under the light of the Blood Moon only a few months into her friendship. Their moves grew more daring and flashy as the song went on, spinning and swaying to the rhythm.

“I always forget how good a dancer you are, Marco” Star dreamily sighed when he spun her around and dipped her down.

“My grandma taught me. She says that the only right way to dance is the fun way,” Marco laughed, lingering for half a second too long as the music swelled around them. Somewhere in those blue eyes sparkling with only love for him, he’d lost track of the world around them. Only after he noticed how the blonde curls in front of her ears shimmered in the red light did he snap back to reality and continue the dance, much to Star’s amusement.

“That’s good, because it’s always fun with you.” They stepped in harmony, slowly rotating as they box stepped to the same waltz that had once been a source of apprehension. Star took her hand off his shoulder and lifted it to his face, rubbing her thumb over his cheek. She knew the contours of his face inside and out, could describe every last detail of all the facial hairs that he’d given silly names, could picture every last one of the warm and loving ways his soothing chocolate gaze could pierce her soul, yet it didn’t stop her from being completely enraptured by it now. That intimate knowledge informed her when even the most trivial thing was out of place, which is why she decided to flick a spot just under his mole. “You had a fleck of corn.”

“In my defense, your dad’s cooking is really messy.”

“Yeah… it was cute, though. Like you had a second mole.” Something had changed in the waltz from what they remembered, a different theme slowly building until it led into a refrain that was entirely new yet somehow familiar in a way neither could place. It was a vibrant, comforting melody that felt right for them. Star shifted her hands to the back of his neck as the distance closed between them. Though Marco had grown noticeably taller than her, in her heels she found herself at nearly eye level with him as she rested her forehead on his.

Marco’s arms slithered around her waist, holding her tight as their lively waltz morphed into intimate, formless swaying. “This- this is really nice.”

“Yeah… I love it. I love you, Marco.” She paused a moment, leaning back to get a clear view of as much of him as she could; even after a year and a half of being together and years of friendship before that, she was still giddy over how much she truly loved every bit of him. “Nothing’s ever going to change that.”

“I love you too, Star. I’m not going anywhere.” Their hands joined once more as they resumed their spirited dance, their devotion to one another vaulting their joy to new heights. Neither cared about elegance or form anymore; their steps and spins and lifts came from the deepest places within, as if their very souls were mingling in the air above. Plucked strings accentuated the song as it grew calmer and entered what Marco was fairly sure was its final verse. A bittersweet sensation bubbled up from within his chest; he’d had plenty of moments with Star that he’d never wanted to end, but this one seemed to have an extra significance attached. The final chord of the waltz rung out, the pair both freezing in place in their final waltz pose, stunned at the beauty of what had just transpired.

The crowd’s clapping broke finally them out of their trance. “Woah,” they breathed out in unison. In her breathless state, Star idly wondered if the applause was for them, but she realized how silly that was as the full breadth of the outside world slowly trickled back into her senses. Shortly after, the dance went back to normal; had it been a dream? No, of course not, it had literally just happened mere seconds ago, but the impact it had on them felt otherworldly.

Returning from the daze, Marco finally recalled their goal of finding Tom, and the extent to which Marco wanted to crush Tom in a thankful hug and blubber into his shoulder gave it an additional sense of urgency. He turned to her with a determined look, and had it returned. “We should find Tom.” They went to the gym exit, but it was blocked by... Miss Skullnick.

“Oh, it’s you. Nice to see you, Star,” she saccharinely sneered. “Don’t be trying anything funny, you hear me? We’ve already had four couples’ ‘incidents’.”

A shiver ran through Star at the involuntary thought of Miss Skullnick catching her and Marco in a more... private moment, but she quickly brushed it aside for her own sanity. “Skullzy, we’re just trying to find our friend,” she whined.

“Well, too bad, you can’t use this door. The sidewalk somehow melted and completely iced over, and I don’t wanna be sued for liability!”

“C’mon, Star,” Marco said. “We can just go out the front door.” She was still indignant, but acquiesced and followed Marco into the main building and through a hallway. They rounded the corner to the main entrance and stopped dead in their tracks at the sight of Ponyhead passionately making out with Seahorse.

“Pony?!?” Star shouted.

“Oh, um, why hello Star and Earth Turd!”

“Greetings!” Seahorse added in his usual monotone chipper voice.

Star slapped her hand to her forehead. “I thought you broke up ‘for really-realz’ this time, Pony?”

“Well, yes, mmhmm, I do believe that is how I described the sequence of events that occurred. But then, well, you know how it is with him… we made up while y’all went off to take a bazillion pictures or whatever. That weird old human lady that kinda looks like a troll caught us while we were-”

“Pony!” Star yelled, cutting her off in shock. Really, though, the most surprising part was that Ponyhead had been responsible for only one of the so-called “couple’s incidents.”

“Lilacia gave a very high satisfaction rating to the Reflectacorp™ line of vibrating-”

Marco stepped in and clamping Seahorse’s mouth shut before they could be traumatized any further. Star rolled her eyes and took Marco’s hand once more, heading past the other couple towards the front door.

“Fine, I see how it is. C’mon, Seahorse, let’s go get freak-ay on the dance floor!”

“Reflectacorp™ disco technology allows you to boogie and/or woogie risk-free, guarantee-!”

The double doors shut behind Star and Marco as they stepped out into the cold. They walked around the building towards the gym and saw that Miss Skullnick had been telling the truth; but there was no one else in sight, only the snowflakes gently drifting through the air and a full moon above in the night sky. Star still wanted to get back to her friends, but the tranquil scene gave her pause as she stood beside him. Something had been subtly gnawing at her all night - though it’d been on her mind longer than that, if she was honest with herself. “Hey Marco?”

“Yeah?”

“When Eclipsa said earlier about ‘another dance’...” She swallowed, letting the implication hang between them. “Do you think that’s something that will happen?”

He glanced at her quizzically until the meaning sank in and his heart skipped a beat. Was she- did she- is she asking… His eyes blinked rapidly once, twice, three times while he processed the gravity of the question. But his surprise quickly dissolved; after all, he’d been thinking about it too. Maybe he hadn’t drawn that specific connection, but how many times tonight alone had he beheld the wonderful girl beside him and remarked to himself that he’d be happy with her for the rest of his life? He swiveled around to stand in front of her, taking both of her hands into his own. “If you want it to, then I know it will, someday.”

She sighed happily, lacing her fingers through his. It wasn’t even the first time they’d declared their love with permanence, but no matter how far they went, they couldn’t help but be concerned about how the other felt about the next step. “Didn’t a lot of people usually wait until they’re, like, 30 to get married on Earth?”

“A lot of them, yeah,” he admitted, “but, I dunno, I don’t really care about that.”

“Me neither,” she asserted, happily beaming at him.

“So we just… let it happen when we’re ready, I guess.”

“Mmhmm,” Star hummed, feeling a warmth deep inside that combated the chill prickling her skin. One of her hands left his and tangled itself in his hair, as her gaze fondly roved the face she hoped to see as long as she lived before finally settling on his lips. He had the same idea, leaning forward and sweetly kissing her. Their lips were a bit chapped from the cold, but it didn’t bother either of them; this signified something far more than physical gratification. She pressed them closer together until there was no distance left between them, the dual friction of his soft, inviting lips moving against hers and her silky dress rubbing on the coarse fabric of his jacket thrummed through her entire body.

When they separated, his eyes scanned the sky for a moment before sheepishly turning back downwards. “Huh,” he murmured.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s stupid.” Star raised an eyebrow insistently, the pair still in each other’s arms. “It’s just, I thought that maybe- maybe the Blood Moon would be shining, or our cheekmarks would glow or something. It’s dumb, I know-”

“Well, that does happen to us a lot,” she conceded. “But I’m pretty sure the eclipse isn’t supposed to start until, like, 3 AM.” “Have you ever thought about when we broke the Curse?”

“What do you mean?”

Star stepped away from their embrace, folding her arms and stuffing her frigid hands under her armpits as she frustratedly tried to piece together her complicated thoughts. “Like, when we were in the Severing Stone, I remember it took us back to the Blood Moon Ball and we started dancing… what happened after that? If it never changed how we feel, what was even the point?”

Marco shrugged; when he’d finally accepted his feelings once and for all, he’d dismissed the entire concept of the Curse as bogus, but since then he had considered it in some new lights. “If it was actually a curse, I’m glad we got rid of it, but… looking back, I’m kinda glad that the Blood Moon Ball went like it did. That was one of the first times I saw how special you are to me.”

“Same. Plus, that’s where I learned you dance good,” she growled with a smirk. “But still… sometimes I wonder if I told you I loved you while we were in there. Because I did love you then, you know. Even if I was trying to push it away.”

“Maybe we’ll never know.”

“I guess I’ll just have to tell you every chance I get from now on, then, because you’re stuck with me, Diaz.”

“So long as we both shall live. Do you accept?” He asked with a cheeky grin.

Her laughter, bubbly and playful and sincere all at once, was answer enough for Marco. Not one to be outdone, though, Star carefully lowered herself onto one knee, lowering her head and closing her eyes solemnly before looking back up at him. “I dooOOOH-” She shrieked as the icy sidewalk took its toll and sent her toppling sideways. Marco reacted quickly, stopping her from hitting the ground and helping her to her feet. “Maaaaybe we should go inside now.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he responded, draping his jacket over both their shoulders like a cape. “Still have to thank Tom.” She clung to him as they hurried back around the school and into its shelter from the cold - even shared body heat and emotional warmth could only do so much. Although they’d removed whatever eternal supernatural soul-binding curse the Blood Moon may have bestowed, Marco mused, they’d still shared a tender first dance and grown as partners under its light, once upon a time. Perhaps, in a roundabout way, it had always been a blessing, too. In a sense, they’d just cleaved their own souls together again with only a simple promise. No magic, no curses, just Star Butterfly and Marco Diaz... and that was more than enough.

They stepped back into the gym, ready for the hours of partying ahead of them, and were greeted by the sight of Janna and Tom floating in the air locked in a passionate kiss. Star and Marco’s eyeballs both nearly bugged out of their heads as their eyes whipped back and forth between each other and the spectacle in front of them, leaving them with only one possible response.

“WHAT THE-”

#starco #svtfoe #star vs the forces of evil #jantom #tgg svtfoe #fanfic

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sparklyandchic · 5 years ago

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🦋 MINI MIND MAKEOVER 🦋

okay i started the idea for this mini little mind makeover when i broke up with my boyfriend in like january. instead of being sad or angry, i wanted to be grateful for this time and take it as an opportunity to make life better for myself. then quarantine happened, so some of these are related to things i’ve learned since that started. either way, these aren’t all concrete things to do for your mind; some of them are just ways of thinking or pep talks. but if you can find one little piece of information or thought that makes you a little bit happier for a moment, that’s all i can hope for!

5-htp: okay first off- please ALWAYS consult your psychiatrist or medical professional before taking a supplement! taking 5-htp with, for example, serotonin-increasing medications can lead to a fatal illness called serotonin syndrome. personally, i started taking it because i had been on 10 mg prozac for a few months. it definitely dulled a lot of my anxiety and had a lot of positive aspects to it, but it dulled them almost too much to the point where i felt apathetic and detached from myself and the situations i was in. i was in a very unhealthy relationship and felt like i needed my mental clarity and “overthinking” processes back in order to identify what i was feeling and how to deal with it. i felt a lot more “sensitive” after coming off it, which was actually really welcome for me at first, but then it sort of dropped off into withdrawals. i was having constant panic attacks and crying very often. after a while, i was debating going back on prozac, but remembered i had taken 5-htp before. 5-htp is an amino acid that is a direct precursor to serotonin being produced in the brain. when u eat turkey, tryptophan is converted into 5-htp which leads to your brain producing serotonin, thus why you feel calm and happy afterwards. after taking 5-htp for just a few days, ranging between 200-300 mg per day (again, do your research, ask your doctor, and start small) i stopped crying constantly and really felt this sense of calmness and wellbeing but without the detachment and apathy i felt with prozac. i could still think clearly but didn’t feel overly sensitive to every emotion which arose. personally, it is really a lifesaver and really does make a noticeable difference.

cognitive behavioral therapy: ive tried therapy a million times. well okay, like 5 or 6 different therapists. at its worst, therapists told me i needed to use my sexual power as a woman in order to get what i wanted from men, told me i’m bad at socializing and should do group therapy, said my mom shouldn’t have encouraged me to “be myself” when i was younger because it made me less likeable than if i had conformed to normal societal standards of dressing. i had gone to “therapists” who claimed to be trained in CBT, but when i told them about my experiences with dissociation, the only feedback i got was to “take more baths.” while going through a few unpleasant experiences in my personal life, i decided i should try CBT once more, but like the real kind. i found an ivy-league educated licensed psychologist (NOT a “licensed clinical social worker” who doesn’t even have a psychology degree!!) who SPECIALIZED specifically in cognitive behavioral therapy. just after the first session, i was so elated with my experience. as opposed to just telling me that i needed to be more normal or more kind or a better person, she tried to identify WHAT was making me feel that way about myself in the first place. she pointed out the positive things i do and reassured me i was kind, good, and deserving of good things. she pointed out many aspects of my situation that would have taken me days or weeks to come to on my own. i’ve realized my hubris isn’t that i’m not socially acceptable or not perfect enough, but its just that i tend to THINK that i am these things despite having no evidence of it. so, over time with therapy, my positive self image about who i am as a person has grown and strengthened and i dont just randomly feel like a bad human being anymore lol. moral of the story, if you wanna do therapy but it keeps sucking, dont give up. go to a legit psychologist, find someone who specializes in the type of therapy you’re seeking, and also be vocal during your sessions. stand up to your psychologist when they continually push a narrative onto you, and explain why you don’t agree with it. sometimes it’s their job to try different narratives to see what fits, and if you just passively let them say what they want to, you’ll never find the truth of your experience! it’s a communal effort! therapy isn’t usually a magic cure-all where one session fixes everything that goes awry in your brain. but if you find someone who knows what they’re doing they can in fact really help your thought processes become less twisted up and more clear and healthy.

meditation and mindfulness: a few weeks ago i felt anxious and overly driven to get things done to the point where i spiraled into a space of guilt or a panic attack over not getting enough things done. meditation can be so so helpful here. it’s better to spend an hour sitting and doing nothing, but doing it peacefully and then calmly moving on to doing something else, than to spend 5 hours stressing yourself over every single thing you need to get done and how much time you’re wasting. the things that need to get done will get done. another thing that i’ve realized and say to myself a lot is: “focus not on doing all things perfectly, but on doing the small things well.” by this i mean, stop thinking about the 20 things you need to get done and how it all needs to be perfect, but instead take your time with the task that presents itself as most beneficial right now and focus on enjoying it and giving your whole self to the process. for example, stop thinking about how you need to clean your room, your closet, donate clothes, take a shower, take out the trash, read, workout, etc. think to yourself; “which task would bring me the most joy right now?” if the answer is taking a shower, then take that damn shower. bring your speaker into the bathroom, scrub every inch of your scalp with shampoo, scrub your feet and behind your ears and your neck with body wash, brush the conditioner through your hair fully. you may end your shower with 19 other things to do, but god damn if you can’t enjoy a single one of them and be present for it, what’s the fucking point! go light a candle and bask in its glow, go make your bed and huddle up in your neatly arranged covers, go take a long bath or a thorough shower, and be proud of and content with that today.

relationships, with others and yourself: okay, if you missed the memo, my ex-boyfriend sucked. like genuinely was a bad person. he was a drug dealer, so that’s red flag number 1 (which i ignored of course), he hadn’t graduated high school (he was 18, i was 20, he was supposed to graduate the last semester but refused to do the work and ignored me and his mother when encouraged to do it, which is uhh definitely red flag number 2 which i also ignored), he habitually did not show up for dates on time or lied about what he was going to do or what he did (literally everything he did was a red flag and i rlly ignored all of it). the worst part was how he responded when i worked up the courage to speak to him about it. if we had agreed upon a time for our date but he showed up literally 8 hours late, he would blame it on me because i “could have called” him, or that i was “demanding too much of” him, or that i “should have said something earlier so now [i was] just dragging it out because it already happened.” basically, whatever narrative he pushed at me, i eventually gave into. i’ve dealt with gaslighting in a relationship before and a part of me knew what was happening to me, but a part of me also kept having hope for him, kept empathizing with him, kept wanting to believe in him. after a bit too much time, i finally realized you have to trust yourself, empathize with yourself, and believing in yourself over anyone else. at first i felt bad for him not being able to graduate because i had my own struggles with high school and getting work done. i thought he may have issues but he deserves someone to be there for him because i wanted someone to be there for me. despite the pain and stress he was causing me, i sat around crying over him because i cared about him and tend to over-empathize with people close to me, whether they deserve it or not. my therapist told me something that at first i did not understand, but over time came to grasp in its entirety: “some people do not deserve your love or kindness.” after our first session, my homework was to “consider when you are being kind and when you are being taken advantage of.” this made me realize that what feels like your instinctual nature to be nice to others, can in fact be a self-sabotaging unfair action, depending on the other person’s response. i might be dishing out a lot right now, but bear with me. think of it this way: you regard an action as a “kind action”. you might think “kind actions” include: forgiving someone for large mistakes, putting someone’s needs over yours, sparing them some change when they ask for it, listening to the problems they are dealing with every day. BUT when their actions include not forgiving you for minor mistakes, not giving a sh*t about your needs or considering them, not caring how much money they take from you and how much money you need to have around, or habitually glossing over your problems because it doesn’t benefit them to care, THEN those actions you performed are NOT “KIND ACTIONS” anymore. the act of continuing to give them leeway is now the act of being taken advantage of. the act of giving them money is now the act of being taken advantage of. the act of buying into their story at the expense of your sanity, is now the act of being taken advantage. basically, all i’m saying is START PUTTING YOURSELF FIRST AND TRUSTING YOURSELF WHEN YOU FEEL SOMEONE DOESN’T HAVE YOUR BEST INTERESTS IN MIND.

ending thoughts: i know quarantine is difficult right now. the desire to grow contrasted with the inability to move. maybe try and follow that old 2008~ quote; “bloom where you are planted”. you might not be able to reach the goals you thought you would during this time. you might not be able to run a marathon or make a bunch of new friends or wake up at 6 AM to workout or redo your bedroom or get a rhinoplasty or join a gym or get an internship. working towards productivity might be unrealistic right now. but you can work everyday towards becoming the woman you want to be, mentally. you can work on learning to be content, learning to make the best with what you have, learning to appreciate the little things, learning to slow down. these are all qualities that i for one want to have just as much as i want to be attractive or successful. if you can’t enjoy success, what’s the fucking point! life is on pause right now, take this moment as a gift and consider your internal world and what parts of your mind need a makeover. there are horrible things happening in the world right now, do what you can to help, but if you’re safe and healthy then be grateful for the things you can learn from this difficult time. take it slow, but keep moving forward!

#happyandchic #happy and chic

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notthefilmreview · 5 years ago

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17 year old watches MIRACULOUS LADYBUG: ZOMBIZOU

Hey it’s Dana!

As you can tell from the title I’m obviously 17 and today I’ve decided to watch the Miraculous Ladybug episode Zombizou (admittedly not the first time I’ve watched Miraculous) because this episode is about zombies and I LOVE ZOMBIES.

Horror movies in general are great and usually when a series decides to do a horror themed episode I’m sitting there ready to watch, but zombie movies are arguably superior (don’t @ me).

However, I am a tad bit sceptical about a kids show doing a zombie themed episode because obviously they won’t kill anyone - RIGHT!?!

And also how are they going to transfer the infection? Are these children going to go around biting each other???? Not gonna lie, if they do, that’ll be a dark twist I’m ready for.

This probably won’t happen because Huffinton post does recommend it towards 6 - 15 year olds so…

Anyway, read on for my reaction to Miraculous Ladybug Zombizou…

Lol, okay, so we’re not into the episode yet but I paused the screen at this moment and it looked kinda funny so I thought I’d just share.

So while I see why everyone’s so annoyed about Chloe forgetting Ms Bustier’s birthday it just doesn’t really matter. Most teachers don’t really care about all their students remembering their birthdays and most students either don’t know when their teachers birthday is or they don’t even bring it up (at least that’s what happened in my student experience lol, I don’t know about the rest of you).

Also, everyone does know about Chloe’s issues with her parents so they have to understand that she has a habbit of forgetting special occassions or showing sentimentality.

ALSO, there’s bound to be someone else in the class who’s forgotten Ms Bustier’s present - not just Chloe. Why aren’t they ganging up on them? Like what about Adrien? What did he get her with all that money he has stored up?? Huh???

#ChloeBourgeoiseDefenceSquad

Okay…so I’ve got to admit that was a bit rude of Chloe to do, but what do you expect when everyone constantly mocks her for not getting Ms Bustier a present? I’m just surprised she never did anything like this on Ms Bustier’s previous birthdays.

#StillChloeBourgeoiseDefenceSquad

On a side note: Ms Bustier is an absolute angel! Seriously, I don’t know how this woman manages to keep her patience teaching these hormonal 14 year olds every day while some deranged butterfly akumatises them on the daily.

On an extra side note: Ms Bustier is so pretty! Why doesn’t she have a boyfriend? (or a girlfriend?) She seriously has everything going for her: patience, love, support, good-looks, good with children…

How does Marinette manage to keep up her hobby of fashion, save Paris, get her schoolwork done, WHILE being the Class Representative? I can’t even handle just my A Levels and she’s out there doing all of this at 14??? What is this wizardry???

Also, I kinda hope Marinette gets akumatised because that would just make it so much more harder to get rid of the zombies.

Okay, so if I were Marinette I would have just transformed into Ladybug when the akuma was coming after her and Ms Bustier. She can obviously trust Ms Bustier to keep her secret and it may even help when she needs to miss class or get extensions on her homework or even cover for her when she needs an adult to do stuff…Then, Ms Bustier wouldn’t have been akumatised!

Wow Ivan truly deserves better! He is such a little sweetheart for offering to hold Mylene and Sabrina back while everyone else runs off to safety. BUT - look at Adrien over here doing absolutely NOTHING! I know that there’s a rule that they shouldn’t let anyone else know their secret identities but sometimes there should be exceptions - like in this situation.

Like with Marinette and Ms Bustier earlier, if Adrien just transformed maybe even in the classroom when Zombizou first broke in then he could have saved Sabrina, Mylene, and Ivan. Then he could have easily guided everyone to safety without thinking about when and where he should transform.

Lol, don’t lie Marinette, you secretly liked that…

I do like the whole “is anybody here?” thing with Ladybug going through the school trying to find survivors like a real zombie movie.

Smooth, Adrien, smooth…

I love how Adrien attempts to take advantage of the situation to kiss Ladybug! At least he tried; it was worth a go.

However, it does lead me to wonder what would happen if he actually did land a kiss, making Ladybug believe she’s infected. But then he has to explain to her that he’s actually not zombie-fied. That would be quite awkward.

Also he just looks so extra and in love in this photo!

Lol, also Alya blaming Chloe for why Adrien got kissed is actually quite funny. I don’t know why but it just felt as though Alya just wants another reason to hate on Chloe. #ChloeProtectionSquad.

Awwwwww look at that little back hug! That is actually just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life! Mylene and Ivan are just so cute together!

This is quite a cool shot with all the survivors being on the roof, waiting for their leader (Ladybug) to tell them what to do next. It’s such a zombie movie trope!

Kim looks like he’s just seen his whole life pass before his eyes and he’s determined to do something heroic (such as possibly sacrificing his life for his friends).

Max, Nino, and Alix look like they’ve given up.

Alya and Ladybug look like the leader and the co-leader discussing what they need to do to get out (and possibly what sacrifices they need to make).

Juleka and Rose look like The Couple! Omg they are just as cute as Ivan and Mylene! If anything happens to them I will give Chloe up to Zombizou myself! (Sorry not sorry, Chloe).

Finally, Chloe looks like that one person everyone hates in the group. Those types of survivors in zombie movies usually come into a stable group (mostly by being saved) and then mess everything up. They’re usually the one who *accidently* gets everyone killed and then survives at the end! We hate those types of people…

So, if I were Zombizou I would just send my kisses off into Paris to just try and catch people. Her kisses are a lot faster and can reach high places, unlike her zombies, and the gang is on the roof so they’re basically sitting ducks for her kisses.

Here it comes; this is the point in the trope when one by one everyone decides to be heroic and make a sacrifice to save the-last-hope/main-objective/the-key-t0-the-end-of-the-virus (aka Chloe). While I think it was quite heroic for Max to hold back the zombie’s and for Rose to go out and save Chloe, Chat Noir and Ladybug could have easily done that themselves without getting kissed!

I just feel like this episode has underused and underemphasises (is that a word?) their powers to make their classmates seem more heroic. On one hand that is good for character development but I do feel as though they could have done that in a different way.

For example, they could have had Ladybug and Chat Noir possibly kidnapped by Zombizou or something like that (basically the heroes aren’t there to help them) but they all know, possibly from a transmission from Ladybug, that they need to safely get Chloe from the school to some checkpoint. Then, on the way, each classmate makes their own heroic sacrifice until finally it is just Chloe at the checkpoint (possibly just with Alya because Alya hates her so much) and they use Chloe as bait (willingly, of course) while Alya frees Ladybug and Chat Noir and they save the day.

Just a thought :)

Firstly, Rose and Juleka are so cute together and basically act like a couple so why can’t they just make it official????

Secondly, omg the hiding-the-bite trope!!! Ahhhh! I usually hate these people and just hope they die already BUT, in this circumstance when it’s my sweet little Rose who risked her life to safe Chloe, I just feel bad for her AND for Juleka.

Okay do you see those hands??? That is not how you hold a friend, just saying…

This was quite an emotional scene and just makes me love Nino so much more! The fact that he decided to stay with her, trusting that Ladybug and Chat Noir would fix everything but also not completely knowing that they will, just shows how he’s such a reliable and loving guy. I would seriously trust Nino with my life; why can’t he be my boyfriend????

I’ve never been such a big fan of Alya as a good friend to Marinette but I feel as though Alya and Nino together is much more better. But that may just be because Nino’s such a sweet boy who loves his girlfriend and his friends so much and deserves so much love back. #NinoProtectionSquad.

I feel really bad for Ladybug! She’s only 14!!!!!! And she has all these people relying and trusting in her to fix everything. It must be so traumatic for her!

Since it’s a kids show they obviously won’t venture into how traumatic all these experiences (watching all of her friends become zombie-fied) are for Marinette but I can’t help but ponder on how messed up her brain is.

Although she may fix everything with her Miraculous Ladybug, it’s only the exterior that is fixed - not the trauma.

It does cause some people to forget what happened, only she (and Chat Noir of course) know what really happened.

Do you ever think they get nightmares about these things? Because they’re seriously just 14 year olds with the weight and order of the world resting in their hands, which is quite a parallel to the power rangers (and they’re probably all messed up in the head as well).

That was quite redeeming of Chloe to sacrifice herself for Ladybug. Yes, you go girl! #ChloeRedemptionSquad!

Hawkmoth was a bit stupid for making her central power the lipstick because it does easily rub off after a long day of terrorising the Paris…so this ending did seem a bit anti-climactic because it was just make-up remover. Make-up remover, really? After all your classmates sacrifice themselves, all you needed was some make-up remover???

This is really cute and seems like a mother-daughter type of interaction. And we do know that Chloe’s parents are practically absent so what I’m saying is - what if Ms Bustier just adopts Chloe??? #ChloeAdoptionSquad.

Okay, that was really cute. Although Chloe didn’t apologise to the rest of the class, she finally decided to make an effort and get something for Ms Bustier. I also love how she didn’t tell anyone because that is quite humble of her but Marinette and Alya did see her so that does make her look better in their eyes. Yay #ChloeRedemptionSquad!

Overall, the episode was really interesting and did seem like a zombie-type movie (especially if it was longer *cough* *cough* Miraculous Ladybug: The Movie *cough* *cough*). The end was quite annoying with Ladybug defeating Zombiezou with just makeup but the ending did redeem itself by having Chloe also redeem herself.

What other episodes of Miraculous Ladybug should I watch next???

#miraculous fandom #miraculous ladybug #chloe bourgeois #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #adrien agreste #chloe protection squad #chloe deserves better #ivan x mylene #rose x juleka #adrienette #movie #movie commentary #movie watching #series #zombizou #adrien x marinette

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gayregis · 4 years ago

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Hi, just wanted to ask, how did you get into the witcher franchise (did you read the books before you played the games or vice versa?). Love your blog, byeeee :)

ty for the ask!! i hope you dont mind if i go too in-depth because i was legit thinking about this earlier today...

tldr: i played tw3 and liked it, then read the books

i got into the witcher because one of my favorite gaming youtubers was doing a playthrough of tw3 on youtube in around i think september 2017. i liked this specific gaming youtuber for being shit at games and not caring about it... but tw3 was a different game. it felt like the decisions mattered, that there was an actual story here, that when this youtuber made shitty decisions and didn’t really care about the characters involved, i got frustrated because this game seemed really good... so i picked up the game myself and played it though, it was magnificent. not to r/witcher “the witcher 3 is literally the best game created in this history of ever” but it was sincerely good... not only does it have a great story, characters, and graphics, but it is genuinely comfortable to play as a game, even if you’re not great at games (i like playing video games but i’m not good at them when it comes to combat, i literally just would prefer to hack and slash through). so, i played through tw3 and the fact that it made me cry multiple times i found to be really interesting... but it was still just a game to me, it wasn’t something i thought about when i have time to daydream headcanons. i had read i think the witcher (short story) halfway through playing, just to get a feel of what tw3 came from, but from that, i realized the books and the games were incredibly different entitities, and i decided to not read the books until i had finished the game, or at least until i had more free time on my hands (mind i was in high school and was a senior, and during this time was when i was submitting college applications... exceptionally stressful, and the reading/writing part of my brain was absolutely fried from essay writing and reviewing). i was particularly struck by geralt and ciri’s relationship and the isle of mists quests fucked me up pretty bad.

then around later 2017, i was really enjoying tw3, and had finished tw3′s base game and hearts of stone, and was now making my way into blood & wine. i was just playing it like normal, then came the part when geralt met regis. at first i wasn’t too interested (i mean, i was, but in the story of blood & wine, not in the books) until the little journal text pop-up appeared on my screen. you know, the one about quests you just received, or characters you just met. it was going through the motions of saying i finished this quest, picked up this new one, i was all like fine, fine, okay, alright, and then it just fucking puts regis’ long-ass name on the screen taking up a good amount of my FOV and i am immediately like, what? what the fuck? who the fuck? that’s the name? of the guy we just met? that guy??? he didn’t seem like someone with a name like that? who the fuck IS this guy.

so i head over to the wiki page for regis. i thumb through the basic information, i’m pretty interested, this quest stuff to find ciri sounds interesting. i decide to give the witcher books another try, because i have more free time now and am way more invested as everyone here as characters. also, i want to find out more about yennefer, because she was being badmouthed by everyone i saw online, and i wanted to read more about her and see if she was really so bad (spoilers: she’s not at all, the internet is just misogynistic).

i don’t think that i’m going to actually really care about these books, i just want more flavor and explanation about how in hell a witcher met a vampire and these two somehow became friends. so, i don’t care about reading them in order. i go online and find fan translations of every book, i open baptism of fire and i just start reading the bit about the fish soup. i’m suddenly just laughing my ass off, really interested in who these other characters are, milva and cahir, and how dandelion seems to actually be the best friend to geralt that he was said to be in tw3. i also notice immediately that geralt... oh my god, geralt’s such a cranky bitch. i’m SHOCKED at how annoying geralt is. i realize that this is probably what geralt’s been like, this whole time, and tw3 just gave me a sterilized version of him. i’m trying to decide if i like this change or not, at first i HATED it... but then realized it actually gave him a character, where in tw3 he feels a little more... empty, waiting for the player to project a personality onto him.

so, i just read all of the hansa bits of baptism of fire, skipping over anything i don’t understand. i am saddened when i can’t find any more, so i move onto tower of the swallow. and then lady of the lake. “oh, so that’s why geralt was surprised to see regis in blood & wine...” feeling at a loss after reading stygga, i start at the beginning and make my way through the books chronologically, like they should be read. i soon realize that this series really isn’t about killing monsters at all, and i’m thrilled. i thought the series was just going to be about geralt killing things in a swamp and reporting back to whoever hired him, like in tw3... and i was wrong. this series is about personal connections! relationships! ... and fatherhood. [see read more for personal junk]

i can’t remember when i started disliking tw3. it must have been around the time that i finished the books (im using the word finished loosely... i still havent finished some scenes because theyre too violent to read and continue with my day in peace, and i also read tos/lotl by skipping around, so i never got the full experience of reading them as full novels).

i just distinctly remember returning to my tw3 new game+ save after rereading the fish soup scene, and thinking about how lonely the game felt... i just felt so dispairingly alone, this loneliness that i hadn’t felt while playing before, that i had to put the game down. i returned to the game again, but i had just reread edge of the world... and i felt so alone again.

so reading the books ruined tw3 for me, not out of malicious intent, but just because i think i realized geralt isn’t meant to be the lone wolf. the novels center around him and his family and friends, and i just genuinely missed that when replaying tw3. plus, i began to realize a bunch of things, like ciri’s scar is supposed to be bigger, geralt’s supposed to wear his hair in a headband, yennefer’s hair is actually curly, dandelion’s supposed to actually be in the game. there were so many inconsistencies with the characters i had imagined while reading the books that eventually i just stopped playing tw3 (i already played it once, so nbd) and got really into the books.

sometime later i saved up like $80 to buy the paperback versions of the books (UK versions including season of storms) because i knew i was in really deep lol and i wanted the official translations super badly, also we were doing an assignment in class that allowed us to do something with our favorite book, but we needed to have it in-person and not as an e-book, so it was the perfect excuse. much time spent on hansa headcanons later and... here we are today.

a read-more, because this is more personal.

the witcher series picked me up at an eerily appropriate time. two things in it stood out to me: 1) geralt’s relationship with ciri 2) regis’s alcoholism.

i distinctly remember an event where i started crying in front of my parents because my dad was being so absent in my life or maybe it was because they were arguing, something like this... and i remember referencing tw3 isle of mists quest actually by saying “i shouldn’t have to learn it (good parenting) from a video game” ... lol. it wasn’t an epic burn from a 17 yo, but it was just a painful remark made in anger. i still think back to it because of how first watching geralt hug ciri made me feel and how i was actually really bitter because i was jealous of ciri for about a week after completing the quest. then i kind of pushed it out of my mind and didn’t think so much about it, until the night i mentioned it.

in late march of 2018, something very bad happened in my family. that’s probably the best way to describe it. the situation ended in my parents finally separating. my mom and i were pretty afraid and lost after that. after i had collected my thoughts and everything and went back to as “normal” as i could, about a month later, when the creative part of my brain finally began to function again and wasn’t inhibited due to fear, i clung to the witcher more than i did before... and this time, actually particularly to regis, because guess who has a whole redemption arc relating to not being alcoholic and being a genuinely good person who speaks gently and heals the vulnerable?

#anon #ask

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rainydawgradioblog · 5 years ago

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a covidsation with august

Max Moore is a Vashon Island based artist, who just released stunningly ethereal album called Trust under the moniker August. Check it out-- ya won’t regret it! Thank you so much to Max for taking time to answer these questions and providing wonderful insight on this crisis and how we can all support each other!

Lola Gil: Tell me about your project. How long have you been making music (as August, or otherwise)? Which artists are you most inspired by? How would you describe your sound?

Max Moore: i started making music under the name august only this year ! for a long time i have been searching for a project and creative space that felt both personal and truthful, it just happened to all come together with the release of my ep, trust, in february ! i have released music under many other names over the years as i experimented and dipped my toes into different sounds and styles, my first releases on the internet were from when i was like, 12 !!! as far as musical heroes, the list is long but at the top would be arthur russell, bjork, brian wilson, arca, nick drake, sophie, elliott smith, autechre, harry nilsson, burial ... i really could go on forever. i think a lot of people try to hide their true influences but i feel there is something sexy about putting it all out there and referencing them as would an author, filmmaker, painter etc. my "sound" these days seems to be quite amorphous, it really is shifting from minute to minute. i would like to think it would sound like some amalgamation of the artists i listed earlier but it's hard for me to tell.

LG: How long was the process of making and producing your most recent album, Trust? How do you feel now that it’s out? Are you planning on releasing any new music soon?

MM: the process was looooong, like really long. i didn't release any music "seriously" for 3 or 4 years ! trust came out of a sudden, brief moment of clarity and surrender, as cheesy as that sounds. i was able to overcome a lot of the blockages i face in my creative process and just assemble this thing, and it just fell together ! i had all of these bits and pieces and sketches and ideas that never fully developed into anything, so i decided to compile them into one continuous piece of music. i was really into this idea of sonic miniatures or vignettes, short and sweet but with a depth that's only barely touched upon before moving on to the next. it was so incredibly therapeutic and wonderful to put it out into the world, so much support from friends and peers all around me. for now i'm still incubating but am hoping to see new music taking form this year :)

LG: As an artist, how have you been affected by COVID-19? You mentioned you had a handful of shows cancelled-- what has your experience been/what are your thoughts towards live streaming?

MM: like many artists in the community, i had a good handful of shows, contracted work, etc. canceled as a result of the virus. i am lucky enough to be in a position currently where i did not have to take a significant financial hit due to this (i work a day job at a record store & cafe) but i know many artists who now are struggling to make rent and stay safe through this pandemic. i think live streaming is a beautiful and special way for artists to connect with fans, especially in a time like this ! but there are so many aspects to a real, alive, performance that just can't exist in that digital space. for example, making friends and connections, selling merch, interacting face to face with fans, etc. though there is something beautiful about people from around the world being able to tune in to a livestream and make song requests, leave a nice comment, confess their love lol

LG: Apart from August, have you been involved in any other creative projects recently?

MM: recently i have been moving into more sound design work ! i was recording and mixing sounds for a play that was to run in june i believe, which just today was postponed until next year. that was my first *official* sound design job, i was really looking forward to it :(

LG: How have you been personally affected by COVID? What has your quarantine experience been like so far?

MM: aside from being out of work, and not being able to connect with friends, i feel very privileged as i am with my family, in my home. i have had a lot of time to do things that normally i am barely able to squeeze into my day like journaling, going for walks, extensive music writing sessions, playing video games. i think a lot of us are facing serious anxiety and depression right now, so i am really prioritizing my mental health, and making sure my friends and family are well. also, this new animal crossing game really could not have come at a better time, i don't know where i would be right now without it to be honest.

LG: What music have you been listening to recently? What has been your go-to quarantine album/song?

MM: in any times of crisis, confusion, sadness, happiness, really in any time at all i always turn to the same album: arthur russell's 'world of echo'. to me it is the perfect record, i aspire to make music that makes me feel the way that album does. it is a great listen if you need some time to reflect, or need something reflected back at you ! another favorite right now is bo en, he's done some incredible video game soundtracks (i'm playing through one right now called 'pikuniku', soooo sweet) and just has the most brilliant ideas. ooo and alice coltrane !!! special music only right now.

LG: Were there any spring shows that you were particularly looking forward to that got cancelled?

MM: i have been waiting to see arca in seattle since i was a sophomore in high school, and she announced a tour only a few weeks before all of this went down ! hopefully there will be a rescheduled date that i will be able to attend ... fingers crossed

LG: How do you think the Seattle/greater Seattle area music scene is going to shift post-COVID?

MM: i think coming out of this time we will see an enormous influx of events as we all recognize how special and necessary these sorts of things are. i know i will be so grateful to be able to run around and dance and meet up with friends, all of that good stuff. i am hoping that we will not forget these times though and can sustain that excitement, we really will need it moving forward. there will be many more bumps in the road and we need to be prepared (as a community) to address them together !!!

LG: In this era of social distancing, how do you think artists can support each other during these weird and difficult times? How do you think social media is facilitating and/or inhibiting connection within Seattle’s creative community?

MM: luckily thanks to the internet there are SO many ways to support our artist friends, if anybody is unsure of how to do so please reach out to me or any other artist, they will be so happy you asked ! whenever i can i try to purchase merch, support on websites like bandcamp where money goes (for the most part) directly to artists, and promote + support bipoc, trans, & queer artists. it never hurts to reach out, connection is so important to sustain any way possible right now. i think social media can be dangerous as far as connection goes, but right now i am seeing a lot of openness and offering of resources as we all wake up every day into the reality that there is this crazy virus taking over !!!!!! the internet and technology are completely shifting the direction of art and community, in some good ways and in some bad ways. we need to remember that social media is a tool and a resource firstly, and also that the people who designed these apps we use purposefully made them addicting, mostly through analyzing our own data and habits ! my hope is that as our brains gradually begin to adjust to these new devices and systems, we can let go of some of the isolation and anxiety that they bring up in us.

-Lola Gil

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lizzybeth1986 · 5 years ago

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Quick Thoughts on TRH Book 1 Chapter 5

• Now that we are five chapters into this story, now seems like a good time to get the masterlist of this series out! 😁 Which I will be doing shortly after this QT is up. If you've missed the other chapters, you'll be more easily able to find them all there! I'll also be reblogging my TRR series masterlist sometime this week, since my TRR Book 1 Chapter 5 chapter is close to getting finished as well.

• I'm hoping to get this one out early, it's an extremely light chapter for the most part. It's practically filler, filled with little vignettes between the characters here and there and mostly diamond scenes. The heavy stuff inevitably seems to be left for the actual Walker Ranch (sigh).

• Here are the tags to block if you don't want my QTs to clog up your dash: #long post, #trh quick thoughts, #trh qts, #trh qt reblogs. For now a friend of mine is helping get the read-mores on the main posts, until Tumblr actually does something to make them work on a phone again.

• TW: Brief mentions of the Dr Ramirez scene in Hana's playthrough, and infertility.

• Screenshot Credits:

Hana - @pixieferry

Maxwell - Abhirio's YouTube channel

Drake - @thefirstcourtesan

Liam - Well, me

• Besides being mostly filler stuff, this chapter had a lot of diamond scenes. Two outfit changes (one OOTD and one lingerie for the LI), a group scene and the book's first character scene (Liam).

• A few people I know have been asking me about the differences between "character scenes" and "LI scenes" (and indeed a lot of people were confused by my use of these terms in my Book 3 QTs). So once I get to my general thoughts section, I'll elaborate on those.

• Title: The Open Road

Alternative Title: Enjoy The Fillers, Dear Fans, Coz You Got A Walker-Storm Comin'!

• We're now on our way to the States, barely days after we got back to our own estate. The Council is looking after stuff in exactly the way they have since we left for our honeymoon, except that now it's lost all its core group members besides Olivia. Her, Hana and Kiara must probably share whatever few brain cells exist in that Council between each other.

• If you've unlocked the "casual clothing" scenes for the LIs in Book 2 (Liam's t-shirt, Hana's crop top, Drake's Henley and Maxwell's muscle shirt and Bubbles necklace), that's what they'll be wearing on their journey this chapter.

• Maxwell is now the self-appointed Royal Entertainment Committee.

• Bertrand WOULD be freaking out about spoons.

• Our OOTD today is an off-shoulder crop top with floral designs, and ripped shorts - paired with a blue and pink statement necklace and a few bracelets. Esther DuPont and literally every other MC is more confident about pulling this outfit off than I will ever be.

• Maxwell suggests the outfit in the Liam, Drake and Hana playthroughs, and Hana suggests it in Maxwell's.

• First Stop: Our old workplace in NY! Our manager is no longer around (probably got fired lol) but Daniel is! Or as I still like to call him, Not-Henney 😂

• Hana is so cutely excited about visiting the place where it all begin, a place she must have till now only heard about in the other LIs' stories. Sigh. Wish we'd brought her here earlier.

• Not-Henney has issues with how little attention Maxwell gave to the MC's origins. @callmetippytumbles points out that there's not much you can expect from an author who put his face on the cover of a book about you. Cmon, Not-Henney.

• Told you "Things are Great" would become a meme.

• He now asks what the experience of being an actual Queen/Duchess is like. You can go for the funny route (glam parties that'll make Beyonce jealous. Oh idk, does Beyonce like an overabundance of apples?), the realistic route (speaking about everyone's expectations weighing on you), and the romantic route, which brings out some cute responses in both Not-Henney and the LIs, ranging from delight to awkwardness.

• Oh snap. The paps are here.

• We make a run for it (in two options, with Daniel's help), and keep driving. Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, the MC mentions a motorcycle when speaking about Drake, which makes me wonder in we will end up having a motorcycle scene in Texas itself. I mean, the writers did mention being excited about a scene featuring one in their livestream.

• Maxwell picks the next stop, and it's that engagement barn we built for Liam, apparently. Or the house of Robert, Steve Tennyson's (PM) dad. Where he has found the "biggest ball of string". Only Joy and Hope, my corgis, seem even remotely happy about this.

•

...Okay Maxwell.

Hana needs to roast people more. Roast EVERYONE in that friend group and EVERYONE in that court!

• Fun Fact: This chapter was released on the 50th anniversary of the historic 1969 Apollo 11 moon landing 😁

• As proven from this scene, the few brain cells this group collectively has, all belong to Hana.

• It's now time to check out what the group brought as provisions:

MC: Nothing, she's only here to ask what everyone else brought

Drake: Jerky

Maxwell: Tequila (!!)

Liam: IDK Esther I thought a four-course meal would just fall upon our laps from the heavens

Hana: ME! Bring cookies that I've NOT warmed by the fires wrought from the bowels of the deepest hells??? BLASPHEMY.

As always Hana saves everyone's ass this fine day. I actually quite like this bit with Hana, because it veers a tiny bit more towards "perfectionist" than just simply "perfect". Hana would be the kind of person to worry excessively over being a good hostess, since that's something she's been learning since she was a little girl (remember the tea scene in the flashback).

• We now stop by at Washington DC - Hana's suggestion - because she wanted to look at the cherry blossoms. I was quite chuffed about this when I found out coz I always used to have her down as more of a "plum blossom" girl, and this is pretty close 😁

• That little bit in DC where speaks of the area as "a marvel of both nature and civic engineering" is a nice touch, since Liam has always been associated with monuments and national legends.

• THE PAPS?? AGAIN????

• ...If my spouse and I have to spend ALL our time answering questions about babymaking, where are we going to find the time to babymake, mediapeople? Ever thought of that? Huh? Huh??

• This option is hands down the best fucking option in this chapter lol:

YOU'RE ALL SUCH DORKS ISTG

• We're now in a small town where Liam wants to mingle and be one with the locals. He's not been very successful in doing this in Cordonia (where people can literally look at his face and figure out who he is), but because it's the US and not many people might recognize him here, his chances of not being caught are better.

• This is the first character scene in the new series. It's pretty alright, not a lot of insights or anything, just a simple scene where Liam gets to not worry about acting like a royal, occasionally acknowledge his privilege, be charmingly naive, order milkshakes, and listen to the MC's insights on how she will bring up her/their kid. He does mention it opens some new perspectives on understanding his people, but I'm not sure we'll get to see much of what learnings he will put into action because, yknow, Cordonian commoners are practically invisible.

• This scene is also proof that you can take Liam out of the court but you can't take the court out of Liam.

• It begins with what the MC calls "a sidewalk hello", where she can either guide or massively troll him. The first two options are awkward as hell (I did like the bowing one though lolol coz she tells him he's probably made someone's day with his "courtly manners"), and the third is for Liam to simply ignore the other person and stare at his phone.

• Next scene involves getting Liam to buy groceries...coz he's never brought groceries. Why would he Esther he has a staff.

• They have a choice between fruit, nachos with everything on them (and they weren't kidding about "everything") and chocolates. I chose fruit.

• You also get some cute tidbits about Liam's life growing up in the palace. Here are the important ones:

- Constantine and Eleanor agreed they wanted Liam to be self-sufficient but "disagreed on how far to take that principle" (given what Liam says about her in one of the other options, I'm guessing Eleanor wanted to take it a lot more further).

- Liam can make spaghetti carbonara!!!

- Laundry: So there was this one time Leo and Liam played tag close to a champagne tower at an event, and it fell down. Eleanor insisted they "clean up the mess [they] made. A reasonable lesson in decorum and consequences". I kinda like this little crumb of info considering there is so little we know about her.

- Eating leftovers: Liam used to have sleepovers at Jackson and Bianca's quarters, and he tells us he was "proud to help Drake's mother microwave the leftovers" coz to his little mind he thought that was cooking 😁 I know, I know, I believed my mom when she put a tiny bit of coffee powder in my milk and told me it was actual coffee haha.

- Doesn't know how to do dishes. He knows soap and water is involved lol.

• The final part of the scene involves Liam treating himself at a diner with (what else!) a milkshake, while casually chatting with the MC about how she feels about the simplicity of her past life, and the way she plans to bring up her (or their) own child.

• Liam not immediately understanding that utensils are self-serve reminds me of Hana's confusion at the idea of a McDermots not having wait-staff.

• The MC has options for how to respond to Liam's question about bringing up a child - 1. I'd like my child to be practical and aware of their role, they don't need to learn how to fold a bed sheet or do dishes. 2. I want my child to have a bit of both worlds so that they're more flexible in their approach. 3. My child should be acutely aware of what the common person in Cordonia goes through if they're going to have to rule fairly over them. These three options in some way allow you to imagine what the MC would be like as a mother, and what upbringing this 'heir' might have.

•

I've never actually seen YOU make much of an effort to find out in Cordonia.

• There's also a tiny bit about Regina that follows this optional dialogue if you're married to him, which I really like: Liam states to Esther that those are "wise words from the wisest queen I know", following which she points out that he's lucky Regina hasn't heard it. Liam's response to that is: "after all this time, I think she'd agree with me". Regina's kinda grown on me over the series, and I do hope we see her again!

• Overall the scene's alright. It's there, it's cute, it's filler like the rest of the chapter. Only time will tell if it will actually result in anything in the future, which kind of leads me to wonder what Character Scenes are going to look like going forward (now that the LI scenes mostly perform the function for both characterization and romance). But the biggest takeaway right now for me is what Liam has to say about his parents, and optionally about his mother. I think that may point towards something later on.

• LMAO @ the random stranger in the diner optionally thinking Liam's brother might be Thor. Leo would be pleased 😂 Also a nice touch to see her recognize us again at the lingerie store if we buy both scenes!

• We now have a scene featuring the couples in their hotel bedroom, where the LI and MC have either had a bit of a wild night, or where the MC has just finished her at-home fertilization procedure (if the LI is Hana). There's a little chit-chat here and there about the moments they have now and about privacy, but it's different in the case of Hana.

• You finally get the chance to ask about how she feels, and this is the response:

• That's it then, I guess 😒 I'm honestly not surprised, given how much in a hurry they were to have Hana concentrate on the MC in the doctor's office itself. I'll expand more on this later.

LIAM. YOU FOOL. I'M WEARING IT RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.

• Honestly I don't see the point in having the MC suggest the lingerie in Liam's playthrough (the others basically make the suggestion instead, and they say "well, you're wearing that", instead, implying that they're talking about what she has on already) if they're not going to code it properly.

• The actual lingerie scenes are pretty cute! And fun! And comes with cool dialogues options, and this:

• NOW I know why Hana's lingerie was head and shoulders above the rest. SHE WAS THE ONE WHO CHOSE IT.

• So here's a rundown of all four LI scenes:

- Liam: The clerk from the store (who was also the girl who noticed Liam in the Incognito Scene if you bought that) recognizes Liam and the MC, freaks out and closes the store so they can shop in full privacy. The rest of it is cute playful banter, like expressing surprise at this being Liam's first time at a lingerie store. She then chooses black silk boxers with a golden baroque design. LMAO trust the MC to get him a Versace. 😂

- Drake - Tells the MC he likes it when she takes the lead. The MC then gets to ask him whether he would be down to wearing handcuffs or pink feathers. To the second option, Drake claims that he would "wear a tutu and crown if you told me you had a thing for the sugar fairy". LMAO they really are desperate to show us how much they learned from the "pink cake" fiasco. Pity how they couldn't teach themselves to treat their one female LI with respect. Anyway, the MC chooses red silk boxers with polka dots (!!)

- Maxwell - This scene is a fever dream from start to finish. Maxwell is happy and excited and SUPER SUPER enthusiastic, asking the MC to drop a beat so he can break into a dance at the store. The MC chooses blue silk boxers with squid designs on them. EVEN MAXWELL CANNOT CONTAIN HIS SHOCK. (PS: This scene marks the third appearance of "release the kraken!" 😄).

- Hana - Hana has apparently seen shops like these from the outside but has never been to one (same sis same). She speaks of how she never had anyone to do it for, which is why she is so happy about it now coz she can do it for the MC. A sweet, simple conversation. The difference here is that Hana knows what she wants, and chooses the lingerie herself: a beautiful lace and fishnet number with garter belt and stockings. She looks amazing and part of that is because unlike her friends, she realizes that her wife has deplorable fashion sense.

• It's now the next day, and Drake tries really hard to hoodwink everyone into making his "next stop" the Walker ranch, but the Royal Entertainment Committee threatens him with an "intimidating interpretive dance performed by me" (is he going to jump out the car and sing Kiki Do You Love Me too?). It's enough to scare Drake into picking a nicer stop.

• It's now time to listen to some tunes!! Everyone squabbles a little over what music to choose and the MC gets to pick either of them:

- Hana's Choice: A piano concerto that Liam loves, makes Drake cry and Maxwell go all happy-sleepy.

- Liam's Choice: Chartbusters. "Top 40s". Drake is surprised coz the last time they drove together, Liam made him listen to 52 versions of a single Bach sonata, to which Liam cheekily responds that doing so made him figure out which one was Drake's favourite.

- Maxwell's Choice: Some song that Maxwell did a deejay mix to, and apparently Liam (and presumably Drake) lent backing vocals to. Going by Liam's advance apology it must be pretty fucking terrible.

- Drake's Choice: Classic rock tunes that he can do air-guitar to. Liam concedes it has rhythm, Drake responds that it has rhythm and attitude. He tries to do air guitar in the car but Hana, panicking, reminds him that he's the one driving.

- What Would Have Been Bertrand's Choice/We Shall Drive In Silence!: Apparently when the MC says this, Maxwell says that she channeled Bertrand so hard "he flashed before my eyes". The MC reasons that if no one wants to listen to anyone else's music they might as well be quiet. Maxwell tries to bring up other alternatives such as playing his kazoo-tar, at which point EVERYONE agrees that silence is golden.

• This bit is one of my favourites in the chapter. Probably the second after "say cheese" haha.

• It's Hana's turn to drive and Maxwell is helping her by asking she carve that path from her heart. Which she does, even though she has mentally memorized the next twelve steps she needs to take.

• Liam drives, explaining when the MC asks that Drake was his first driving instructor (Drake had his licence already and they may have used a royal golf course or two for practice runs).

• Maxwell finds a new waypoint: Thrilltown. His reasoning is quite poignant (everything is changing, the MC and LI - in some cases him - will be having a child soon and everyone will be busy in their respective roles, when will everyone be together like this again?). The rest of the group comfort and reassure him, stating that they will probably see more of each other now. In any case...perhaps to Maxwell this is like a last hurrah to the carefree life he used to have.

• We start with choosing rides. Maxwell and Drake choose The Accelerator, which Maxwell describes as "fast. furious. and it uses gravity at speeds that Thrilltown can't legally release to the public!". Hana and Liam choose the "gentler" option - the carousel - which has you ride unicorns, griffins, dragons and other fantastical beings.

• I'm surprised the writers don't have him react even a little to the carousel, considering one of his scariest experiences took place on one (Book 1 Chapter 16). Just show him say "yeah...I'll pass" or show some emotion or other. It's like that armoury scene in his playthrough of Book 3 Chapter 11 where Madeleine could mock Liam about his feelings for the MC and Maxwell is pretty much sitting there not reacting. It's so lazy. I can't.

• Carousel with Liam and Hana: I loved this one, very cute. The carousel has fantasy elements and mythical animals, things that both Liam and Hana love. The MC gets to sit on a phoenix (like her optional Valtoria sigil!), Liam on a dragon (like the royal family's old crest! Dom would be proud) and Hana on a unicorn (which suits her particular style of whimsy). It's cute and fun and sounds exactly like the kind of thing Liam and Hana would enjoy.

The Accelerator with Maxwell and Drake: They call it EXTREME, and it lives up to its name. Maxwell is ecstatic obviously because he's a thrill-seeker and a ride like this is completely in his wheelhouse. Drake gets caught red-handed handed actually enjoying the ride.

• We try out something called The Vortex of Terror, where Liam challenges his friends to not scream up until the end of the ride. Ironically he's the first one to cave 🤣🤣

• "I accept your terms, Liam...as long as you're prepared to lose". Badass enough to challenge the king of the country xD (considering the way that ride goes, I think she was right haha).

• I need more Competitive, Sarcastic Hana outside of cute group scenes.

• One of two people can win this challenge: either the MC or Hana. If the MC wins, she gets to hoist herself on the LI's shoulders towards the next ride. If Hana wins, she perches herself on top of Drake's because he's pretty damn tall.

• Our last ride is called "Lover's Leap" and it's pretty much the romantic portion of the group scene, really.

At the end of it, the LI brings you a green candy drink, and then lets you know how this trip to Thrilltown is representative of their journey together and the change the MC has brought to their lives.

• Both Hana and I have no freaking clue what Liam means when he says "I call shotgun" before they head out.

• Lol @ Cordonia having its own version of "Ninety Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall". And of course it's going to feature Cordonian Rubies 🤣

• We now reach the ranch, where those of us who didn't marry Drake meet his mother Bianca for the very first time (in every other playthrough she is called "The Rider" and in Drake's her sprite is addressed by name).

• There ends the chapter, on a 'suspicious' note, the kind that seems to sound like things are suspicious but they're probably not. Bertrand's head must be exploding from the lack of spoons.

General Thoughts:

• It's a good thing this filler chapter exists, even if it's mostly inconsequential fluff, because at least that's one chapter less to deal with BertVannah and Drake and his family.

• It's also pretty expensive because the writers knew their crowd by now and know that that crowd is willing to spend.

• The scenes were in keeping with the mood of the chapter - light and fluffy, lots of friendship and some amount of romance. I ended up liking the free short scenes more than any of the diamond ones this chapter honestly.

• So...on the outset, it seems good that the MC is able to check on Hana, post the visit to Dr Ramirez. Hearing Hana's answer, however, brought back every issue I've ever had with the way they've written Hana.

I mean, sure, not everyone reacts the same way to such painful news. I understand that. But here the writers are basically using Hana to minimize what she's going through. They use her to dismiss her own pain with "oh that's okay, I'm just happy that at least you can carry that baby". All that proves is that the female LIs' experiences and pain mean nothing in front the MC's needs.

I've spoken before about the numerous times Hana's pain had been brushed aside or her space eaten into, to favour particular characters, and this just happens to be a repeat of the same formula. This is especially bad because it proves that the only reason they put Hana through this kind of hell in the first place is so that only the MC can carry the child. Her condition isn't allowed to be anything else other than a plot convenience: not an opportunity to open a conversation on this, nor to help develop her as a character. It's merely a narrative device meant to make coding easier. It's dismissive, lazy and reeks of a deplorable lack of care. And again I have to ask, why put her through this if you're so desperate to ignore it afterwards??

• The other big problem is that considering the gravity of that situation, why is checking on her an option rather than actual default dialogue?? If you choose the option to continue talking about playlists instead, the topic just never emerges again. Again I have to ask, what the hell kind of wife is the MC? I mean even before they got the news, the MC was pretty much doing nothing. She wasn't planning for Hana, she wasn't thinking much in terms of what to do for her, everything seems to just revolve around her even in a scenario where either one could have been a mother.

• The lingerie scene seems to me to have elements of a type of diamond scene in the flagship series - the ones where we could buy new casual clothing for our LIs in NY. The LI requires a new look, the MC suggests for a change and often picks out something that she thinks would work (some of her choices - like Liam's pants or Drake's sunglasses are...questionable 😅), and from then on this would be their option for ultra-casual occasions. The one casualwear scene that is different from all these is Maxwell's: he gets his sleeveless shirt and Bubbles necklace at a shop in Coney Island, during the group scene (I think part of this was that they were attempting a step-by-step LI-upgrade because they were a new couple at that point...which was why his first 30 diamond scene was during the Gala, after they'd been together for a little while. Still doesn't excuse all the ways they ignored his background and history though).

The main difference between the casualwear scenes and the lingerie ones is that the first dealt put the MC and LI in different situations and dealt with different issues (therefore was a scene of its own) and the second really just revolved around the lingerie. Perhaps the lingerie scene would be what you'd call an 'extended outfit option'? As opposed to something that's a scene all on its own?

• I was actually quite surprised we got a character scene in this series. Given how much they'd drastically cut down on them in favour of beefing up their LI scenes more, I was fully expecting not to see them. I do prefer them to the LI scenes sometimes, because my LI is not the only one I want to be keeping tabs on, and I do want to know what's happening in their lives.

• What is the difference between the two? I hear some of you ask. Well, good question because I'm about to launch into one of my long-winded explanations again.

• Diamond Scenes in TRR/H: I've been holding off on writing about these, since I believed that the series probably had done away with character scenes and preferred to use LI scenes for both romance and development. With this chapter, I now understand that's not the case.

• So...simply put, the difference between an Character Scene and an LI scene, is that the first focuses on the same character in all playthroughs (eg. no matter who you are romancing, if you buy these scenes it's Hana who will play Snow Angels with you, or Drake who will go fishing with you), and the second focuses on who you are engaged/married to (eg. If I'm romancing Hana, I will not be going to the movies with Liam. If I'm romancing Maxwell, I will not be having a cake testing session with Drake).

During Books 1 and 2, when the MC wasn't altogether exclusive with any LI as such, each character would have their own specific scene which expanded further on their characterization and gave the MC a chance to learn more about them. Most of the romance in these scenes were by choice, with the exception of a few lines here and there. The writers tried to continue this way of formatting diamond scenes even beyond Liam's proposal, but the amount of backlash from the portions of the scenes that involved the MC cheating on her confirmed LI...kind of made them backtrack on this plan quite a bit.

Book 3 switched the format up a little. It was similarish in a lot of ways to RoE, except that unlike that book (where the other two would disappear once you got engaged to one), we were also friends with the other LIs. Besides outfits and plot development scenes (such as the one in the Nevrakis replica armory with Olivia and Gladys) and group scenes, the book also offered two types of scenes for the reader to connect with the characters they liked:

1. LI Scenes: These scenes are meant for the LI the MC is marrying, and are coded differently based on that. This kind of scene was first used in the series in the first chapter of Book 3, where the MC and LI could comfort each other in the safe house. The initial chapters had a similar approach to the scenes as RoE Book 3 (where Mr Sloan, Leo and Dean all ended up sounding like each other), in that the dialogues sounded pretty cut-and-paste, with little to no actual variations beyond a few things (an example of this was how - in the Book 3 Chapter 6 Spa Scene in Applewood - all the LIs spoke of being "dumb in love" with the MC - which suited certain LIs, but sounded extremely jarring on others.

During Book 3, a high number of complaints about the series revolved around this copy-paste routine for the LIs, mostly because the characters were so different from each other, and wouldn't speak the same or even have the same experiences. Around Book 3 Chapter 8, major shifts began to happen in the way these scenes were written, starting with the Movie-going Scene in Castelserraillian. Post that chapter, and the hiatus, there was a significant decrease in the number of individual character scenes, and an increase in both number and quality of the LI scenes. It is very possible that they found juggling both stressful and dialed back on one to personalize the other further.

2. Character Development Scenes: These were scenes with the LI that you got regardless of whether you were marrying them or not. This scene would be viewed over all playthroughs, with differences based on whether you were marrying them or not. If you were not marrying them, these scenes would appear neutral and the romantic options would simply not be there, or be replaced by more neutral ones. Examples of such scenes include Drake's Cordonian Waltz Scene in Fydelia (Book 3 Chapter 3), Liam's Gastrodiplomacy Scene in Castelserraillian (Book 3 Chapter 7), Hana's Polo Scene in Portavira (Book 3 Chapter 5) and Maxwell's Armoury Scene in Lythikos (Book 3 Chapter 11).

The most important thing to remember is that these scenes are expected to be coded differently (according to your relationship with said LI), not only by adding romantic options for the MC to choose, but also in the actions of the characters by default. For instance, the Fydelia Cordonian Waltz scene in Drake's playthrough incorporates - by default - all the sensuality you should be finding in this waltz, while his friendly playthrough is merely the MC teaching him the basics so they have an edge over Neville. By default, if you buy the Gastrodiplomacy scene as Liam's fiancée, the chocolate souffle you sampled with him would feature at your wedding reception.

I say the scenes were expected to be coded differently, because very often they were not. In a lot of cases the only proof you'd have in those scenes that the LI and MC were even together were from the MC's actions. For instance, even though Hana was going to be a duchess on marriage to the MC, the same as Drake - only Drake got to speak in detail about it. This opportunity came for Hana very briefly only by Chapter 14, well past the midpoint of Book 3.

• So when Book 3 began the formula was mostly "leave the character scenes for developing the LI's issues or getting them to teach something, and concentrate on nothing else but the romance for your LI scenes". However this wasn't exactly workable given how different each LI was and therefore how odd some of their dialogue sounded. The dial back is understandable (though, as someone who has looked through various playthroughs in this book, I can tell you the imbalances found across character scenes were on a whole different level).

• Why I've elaborated on this is to give context to a question I now have about the narrative: what are the Character Scenes going to look like from here on out? Post the hiatus, they would vary - they could be mostly plot-driven, or fun and light but not much depth or variation, or fun and light, and also opening up diverging conversations based on your relationship. Now that they seemed to have locked down some format in this book at least, what's it going to sound like?

The Liam Character Scene today was fun, light, had default differences based on whether you were marrying him or not, but ultimately had very little to give to the story other than a few facts about Liam's home life and (in a way that expands on what we already know about her and her dynamic with Constantine) his mother. What exactly does he learn? What new insights is he getting as a King who self-admittedly exists and operates in a "statesman's bubble"?

It also remains to be seen whether buying this scene will have any effect of future events - like Liam's Applewood Tour Scene, where his retelling of King Fabian's story had an impact on our conversation with Kiara's mother Joelle. I'm probably going to keep track on how these character scenes are being written in this series, considering that we already have a pretty good idea of how their LI scenes are done.

• Twice I've seen Eleanor associated with pasta. In Book 1 Liam mentions simple tomato pasta as a childhood dish that reminded of his mother, and here shortly after he speaks about his parents he mentions knowing to cook spaghetti carbonara. IDK what that's supposed to mean but I'm bringing it up anyway. I'm mean, what if it's a part of Auvernese cuisine 😂

• I guess that's it for this week! Time for me to scram and finish my Book 1 Chapter 5 QT too before the next chapter drops!

#long post #the royal heir #anti the royal heir #trh quick thoughts #trh qts #infertility tw

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badgalyadi · 6 years ago

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random survery. / 474 + 560.

How’s your mood? Do you feel any different than you did earlier today? def better than it was earlier

What do you look for in a friend? Is it important that your friends have similar hobbies and interests to you? Or is it more important that you just enjoy their company? i think as long as i enjoy your company, we’re good.

Has anyone ever spread a malicious rumour about you? people have been doing this since middle school lmaooo

Are you comfortable with talking to the opposite sex, about sex? yeah, sex isn’t that deep of a topic lol.

What are your views on people who claim to have had spiritual or paranormal experiences? damn that’s crazy.

Have you ever had a friend that you were really close with, but you ended up drifting apart? Why do you think this happened? lol, life.

How much of an issue would you say peer pressure is for you? FAKE. no way ur gonna get me to do something i don’t wanna do, idc.

Would you be able to give up eating your favourite food(s), if your doctor said you had to? nope.

If you’re single, do you ever feel jealous of people who are in relationships? And if you’re in a relationship, do you ever feel jealous of people who are single? no.

What’s in your pencil case? pens, unsharpened pencils, mechanical pencils, erasers both big & small, a sharpener, a stapler, extra staples, and highlighters.

Is there anything in your room that you wouldn’t want your parents to find? maybe so.

Are you wearing anything fragranced atm? i’m wearing the fragrance i brought back from cuba. it was only $3 and it smells so good, deadass makes me it :(

Was your last illness something contagious? i had a cold, so i guess yeah.

When did you last update your Facebook profile photo? it’s been a year.

Have you ever felt confused about your sexuality? in middle school. terrible time to wanna figure that shit out but 💀

If you found out your friend was sleeping around, what would you say to him/her? nothing b/c i don’t care lmao do you.

How should someone of the opposite sex go about starting a conversation with you? it’s not that deep, just say hi.

Tell me about someone you dislike. Why do you dislike them? Do they know that you dislike them? obsessive and shady asf, can’t mind her business.

Have you ever felt so strongly for someone that you believed them to be totally irreplaceable, as if you could never be happy with anyone else? yeah, and i don’t think i’ll ever feel that way about somebody again b/c i learned u really can live without anybody whether u like it or not.

Out of all the horror films you’ve ever seen, which one scared you the most? uhhhhhh sinister or insidious idk

Who was the last person to tell you that they were disappointed in you? not airing out names. she didn’t directly say it, anyway.

If you’re an only child, do you ever wish you had some siblings? And if you have siblings, would you like any more? i always wish i had other siblings lmao i see people w theirs and be feeling sad as hell :(

Are you friends with the last person you texted? yeah.

Your last Facebook friend request - was it from someone of the opposite sex? no.

What does the eleventh text message in your inbox say? issa meme.

Has anyone ever called you easy? yeah LOL

Would you consider having a child with the last person you kissed? whommm... can’t be having a baby rn when i’m still the baby myself

Is there a cover version of any song that you like more than the original? soooo many.

Have you ever liked someone who was a player? yea lol

Do you own anything that has sequins on it? also yes.

Have you ever done anything to embarrass your parents? not on purpose but they def do shit that embarrasses me too so we’re even

Do you own a teddy bear? yethhhh

What’s the worst relationship advice anyone has ever given you? all of it. nobody ever knows what they’re talking about LMAO.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how happy are you with yourself as a person? a 6.5 lmao.

Would you ever kiss someone with facial hair? yeah. Have you ever drooled in public? nah. Do you agree that facebook is taking over the entire teenage population? ???????????? what 80 year old wrote this Have you ever met a mainstream band? no. Have you ever yelled at an electronic as if it could hear you? i get mad sometimes & be fighting random shit LMAOOOO so yes Have you ever been bitten by a dog? yeah LMAO

Would you ever shave your head? if i didn’t have to? no. Have you ever spelt your name in Alphabet Soup? no. What do you think would happen if the Earth suddenly stopped spinning? my stupid ass has no idea & i’m not boutta guess so i can be made fun of What did you want to be when you were little? probably some generic shit like a princess idk Have you ever drawn a picture with sidewalk chalk? yeah. What is the worst possible way to die? slow, painfully. Have you ever burnt yourself with a lighter? sooooooooooooooo many times. Would you ever meet someone you met online? mayhaps. What’s your favorite online game? cricket noises.. What do you think of gay/bisexual people? A1. Have you ever kissed the TV? no. Have you ever thrown your cell phone across the room? yeah, then regretted it LMAOOOOO Have you ever been hit with a ball in gym class? not often but once in hs i got sockedddddddd in the face during volleyball & thought it was on purpose so i hit her w the ball even harder and ended up getting suspended cuz i wasn’t discreet about it lmao Will you be single over winter? [brain muscles overworking themselves] what season is this Where do you wanna live when you grow up? out of miami mayhaps. Are you wearing jeans, shorts, sweatpants, or pajama pants? pajama pants. Would you get married if you could right now? nope. Do you consider yourself spoiled? maybe so. Do you get annoyed when you see someone you don’t like? i usually just focus on other shit. Could you see yourself dropping out of high school? surprised i didn’t. Is there anyone you want to see right now? santi?! What were you doing 12 a.m. last night? fixing my living room. Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 months from now? :] Are you a mean person? no, i really try not to be. What woke you up today? yesterday*, alarm clock. Have you kissed anyone whose name started with a T? probably lmaoo

Did you date anyone last summer? nah, i was minding my business, enjoying my life. Where will you be twelve hours from now? class. Do you remember the first time you kissed the last person you kissed? yeth Have you ever slept on a couch with that person? also yeth Have you written a letter to a soldier? no. Ever been in a perfect relationship? lmao “perfect” How do you feel about the person who texted you last? loveeee me some them. What are you looking forward to? cricket noises.. Do you think you are an argumentative person? hhhh.. maybe.. How did you feel when you woke up today? tireddddddd asf. Have you ever had a best friend who was of the opposite sex? mhmmm What time did you go to sleep last night? i always go to bed late asf. i’m boutta go to bed now just to be up in two hours. What color are your eyes? brown. The last song you listened to? a veces, it’s literally on repeat. When you shut off your alarm clock, do you tend to fall back asleep? if i don’t get up, yeah. Do you believe change is always good? sometimes.

How long was your longest relationship in highschool? 3 years. Do you know who Philip DeFranco is? nah. What’s the most illegal thing you’ve EVER done? 💀 the OP responded to this with weed, i’m really screaming rn.. Where did/do you want to get married? all these questions about marriage, whew. What’s the highest level of education you’ve reached? i’m in college rn Is your last name extremely common, like Gonzalez? no, but i don’t think it’s rare either. Ever notice how most flags are red white and blue? no. Have you ever had a crush on a family member? what the fuck How old is your YOUNGEST friend? bitch.. i don’t know How old is your OLDEST friend? i don’t. know. How long should people be together before they propose? these questions are starting to make me uncomfortable lmaoo Have you had your first touch screen phone yet? that’s how you know this survey is old. Don’t you hate when parents divorce but then still argue regularly? can’t relate, hope i never do. Would you ever join the military? sike. If you could have any dog, what dog would you have? a shihpoo. Would you ever kill a bunny and make soup out of it? what the fuck x2 Do any of your friends own a ferret? no. Do you believe that Christians are better than non-Christians? no? Do boys really rock pink more than girls do? ????????????????????? Do you own a pair of skinny jeans? yerrr What’s your view on the Islam culture? hard to have an opinion on something you know nothing about. Do you know what, “C'est la vie” means? i know i’ve seen this but idk what it means Do balloons make you have a better birthday? nah; they’re loud asf too when they pop, so. Krispy kreme donuts aren’t as good as Dunkin Donuts, are they? DELETE THIS. What is your favorite song from, “Aventura?” THE SPANISH GROUP?! WAYMENT...... i don’t even know. prob something generic. yesterday i was listening to por un segundo lmao :( If you could legally assassinate any celebrity, who would it be? bro.. Do you use Twitter or Formspring? twitter. rip formspring babie love you. Why did you last cry? a few hours ago, real crybaby bad bitch hours. If you had to lose 5 lbs, how would you do it? lower my calorie intake. Is there anyone who seems to think that you are a pillow? ???????? Tell me about your BEST New Year’s Eve ever. wasn’t this one. If you HAD to change your name, what would you change it to? alejandra, idk why that name sticks with me. i just feel like i look like someone named alee & idk how that makes sense but it does to me LMAO. Lunapic editor is amazing, no? whommmm... How do YOU write, “Okay?” depends on my mood, who i’m talking to, what we’re talking about.

How old was the last person who kissed you? 28. Do you have any plans for the day after tomorrow? not that i know of. Do you have a good relationship with your parents? yeah. What time did you wake up today? 7. Name something you can’t wait to do: idk. If you had to choose, would you rather be an alcoholic or a pothead? pothead. What has pissed you off today, if anything at all? cricket noises. Can you honestly say that at this point and time you’re happy with the way life is going? no lmao. Can you easily tell if someone’s fake? mmmmmmmmmmm.. depends. Is there someone you don’t ever want to be out your life? yeah. Did you kiss or hug anyone in the last 48 hours? yeah. Looking back in time did you ever waste your time on a certain boy or girl? feel like most ppl have been thru this. Has anyone ever sang to you? yeah bfsjklj Can a boy and girl be friends without having feelings for each other? LMAO yeah. Coffee or alcohol? oof.. both. together. Have you ever kissed anyone whose name started with C or J? yeth and yeth. Do you ever cry during movies? hell yeah w my crybaby ass Do you have any piercings? ears. Have you ever found someone you really like? my BOO. 🗣 Did you go outside for more than 30 minutes today? yeah LMAO Do you remember who you liked three months ago? was that november... idk how to do math LMAO pretty sure i liked ques by then.

#sᴜʀᴠᴇʏs /

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ac-ars · 7 years ago

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Oh my, my, my

it’s been 84 years, or even longer, my laptop kept being freezing bitch and didn’t want to work so i had to backup all shit, but it doesn’t matter, im close to failing physics, and idc as well, because this is finally done lol

thanks to people who were telling me i am not shit while writing this ily all

also!!!! pedro used here isn’t the pedro from rollerband please remember this

anyway have fun with physics teacher asshole Matteo here

Oh my, my, my

If you ask Luna Valente what she likes the most in the guy who is teaching her physics, she will not be able to answer. There is no full, logical answer for this question, because Luna simply can’t tell what about Matteo Balsano is the hottest, or more like, hotter than the rest.

She had thought that her college experience was going to be filled with parties her friends make her to go when she wants to stay home, hangovers and headaches, sleeping during boring, morning lectures and a fuck ton of studying. All those things above have been happening so far, ever since she stepped into the building of her faculty, but damn, it’s been three years and now he happened, changing whole studies imagine to the worst and the best thing Luna could have ever made up in her mind.

She has been dreading physics classes for quite long time; in highschool she wasn’t the best when it came to science, but here she is on engineering faculty and physics is kind of inevitable on engineering faculties, isn’t it? So she had to take it anyway.

It was expected that physics is going to kill her in every possible way: tire her, confuse and ruin her, turn her brain into the jelly, yet Luna would never think that the problem wouldn’t be in physics itself.

Currently she is having troubles in physics class because of her ta, who makes her the least and the most focused when he talks. And suddenly his class became Luna’s favorite class ever.

The thing is that he chose her. They have group president, yet he wanted someone who doesn’t talk much, still knows everyone and has no kind of responsibilities on their shoulders, and that’s how Luna turned into his private group post pigeon to share any stuff that needs to be shared.

She has his email in case he is stuck in morning traffic and can’t get to class on time. He uses it to give them notes after any topic and exercises to solve before the tests. It’s mostly because his lazy ass is too lazy to create mail group, but whatever. Why would Luna complain about any extra time or contact with him? She doesn’t have his phone number, and hopes he is never gonna give it to her; it wouldn’t be any good idea, because she would end up texting him something weird and lame like your shirt would look great on the floor in my bedroom after alcohol.

Still, she is doing better than all her friends who are crushing on him, trying to find some ways to seduce him or some shit, yet Luna is really above this all mentality, since she is very self conscious, enough to chill and stop believing in some crazy, hot fantasies, focusing more on what she can see instead. Not on what could someday happen, what she could do to him or with him. Her imagination is all she needs at this point. Besides, Matteo doesn’t seem to be the one to make any move towards any of the students anyway.

Hands. His hands are currently roaming her back with softness, yet quickly because he can’t get enough of her. His eyes are closed finally; he decided to learn her without any help of his sight, using other senses instead and looks like he is going to memorize all of her. His lips. His lips are moving on hers urgently, trying to get as much as possible from her, as if the whole universe is depending on this very kiss they share, but Luna doesn’t mind; she is willing to give him as much as possible.

He is pressing her to his desk with his hips, like he is scared that she is going to run away, but cursed the one who would ever say something like this, because Luna Valente isn’t the one to avoid any chance of getting at least a tiny bit of Matteo Balsano. She pulls away for a second to take single breath, since he doesn’t let her take another, needing more and more. His teeth close on her lower lip making her hiss softly, but he only smirks and moves away before letting her go. His eyes are dark, dark, black, even though she has always been sure of their sweet brown color, and are making her crazier than all of his touches.

Her fingers slide up his arms slowly, trying to feel the shape of his muscles moving when he tries to unclasp her bra from under her blouse. Shivers keep going down her spine since his hands are cold, almost sobering her, yet not quite and every of his movements makes her wake up from this crazy moment, but takes her back at the same time. She reaches his shoulders and his neck before tangling her fingers in his soft, soft hair which she has always wanted to touch, checking if it’s like she imagined all those times before.

He still demands more; his mouth gets hungrier and more careful so Luna just kinda slows down playing with buttons of his shirt. He smiles against her lips, letting her know how much he wants her to keep going and all she can do now is starting to undo the buttons slowly while his mouth ends up on her neck, kissing her skin as properly as he kissed her lips. Her heart is beating too hard for him not to feel it, but nobody here seems to care about it as long as the moment isn’t interrupted by anything. She is letting out small, soft sighs as his lips tickle her skin, his tongue is teasing from time to time and his fingers try to sneak their way under her skirt.

This is all she needs from the world, so, dear stars, if someone is going to ruin this-

“Jesus Christ, Luna, could you please stop eyefucking him finally?” She feels an elbow in her ribs, which makes her jump and very gracefully push her hardcover notebook off the desk to the floor. Obviously, it does make loud thump and now everyone is staring at her, while Pedro is giggling under his breath and she is so going to murder him one day. She just looks at the notebook, not sure what to do something; if do something at all, but of course he has to get into the whole moment.

“Luna, is everything okay?” Matteo asks with his soft, smooth voice that has her shivering in many fantasies and she already feels like melting into small paddle of blushing mess.

But she doesn’t. She gives him small nod, obviously, she has to keep it cool no matter what, despite the fact that she can’t move. Her brain isn’t really helping her in those moments; daydreaming is very, very bad, especially in class when he is real in front of her eyes and all she can do is try to keep her heart beating in any rhythm. He is looking at her with raised eyebrows, kind of amused eyes and small smile. When she doesn’t do any move, hearing Pedro’s snickers obviously, Matteo moves away from his desk and walks slowly towards her, frowning after few steps, and she just wants to disappear in the very moment he picks up her notebook and places it on her desk.

“Are you sure you are fine?” He asks once more and Luna’s head is blank. “Yes, I’m just-”

“She was studying whole night and she is super slow today, so don’t mind her.” Pedro jumps in, grinning completely casually and Matteo sighs. Luna keeps nodding continuously and notices how her friend kicks the chair of girl sitting in front of them and she jumps, exclaiming loudly. “Yes! We were studying together on skype, but I manage lack of sleep better.”

Honestly Luna is kinda thankful for this and she is definitely gonna buy them some alcohol they want, because she had no explanation on her tongue except ‘could you please just stop kissing me in my head?’ and this one doesn’t seem like good idea at all.

“Fine.” The Balsano shrugs. “Just make sure you have notes from today, and start studying earlier, right?”

He winks at her, she dies, Pedro laughs too much and the whatsapp conversation of entire group doesn’t get a break.

This day is basically a mess. Luna managed to oversleep and didn’t have time to brush her hair, so here she is trying to sip the shitty hot chocolate from coffee machine as her high ponytail is tickling her nape. Glasses on her nose are barely keeping in one place and as always she is fixing them with her finger and small growl.

It’s kinda cold today, the sweater is sliding off her shoulder all the time because of her hurrying and putting it too quickly, so it ended up too stretched, but who cares? Is it socially acceptable to not wear a bra? If it’s not that’s a boomer, but she was too much in hurry to care. The only good thing about this morning was the fact that her phone was fully charged and it’s not dying like she is.

They all are waiting in front of chem class, which is gonna start in like 20 minutes, so her friends are talking mostly about random stuff, while Luna only tries to minimize the amount of yawns for an hour to thirty-two. She is scrolling through insta feed, but there is nothing there except kittens and food videos, but this is all she needs at this very moment.

Her ears catch the name Matteo in between the songs and she just looks up at the girls with a smile, reaching for one earphone and taking it away, to listen what they are saying. At first it’s just safe topic, talking about upcoming physics test and Luna is very fine, very comfy with this, so she half gets into the conversation, half focuses on the song played in her other earphone.

Pedro texts her something, asking if she is gonna move her ass to uni and she just snorts texting him to turn around, because he is dumb and blind. Few seconds later she can hear his lame laugh and feel his arm wrapping around her shoulders.

“You are very funny today, tiny you. Tell me, what got you so happy? We aren’t having physics today after all.” He grins and Luna lowkey feels like punching him. Giggles of the girls tell her that they heard that, which means no chill for the Valente today.

Whatever.

“I am not in funny mood. You are the funny one here, Pierre.”

Pedro laughs probably too loud at this version of his name, but no one seems to care. “Are you gonna speak the language of love to me now? Will you finally accept to go out with me, Luna Valente?” He says dramatically, pressing his hands to his chest, over the heart.

Luna opens her mouth to reply, but one of the girls just laughs and shakes her head. “You aren’t half as hot as Matteo, so stop your high hopes here.”

Everyone bursts into laugh, even Luna when Pedro just rests back of his hand on his forehead with dramatic, dramatic sigh. She would focus on the second more, but her phone vibrates with text message. Her brain can manage to handle only one thing at once, so all people are turned off when she answers Simón’s message.

“…Luna, what do you think?” Someone asks and she wakes up, nudged by Pedro once again. “He is hot as hell, right?”

“Who?” She raises her eyebrows, not sure which guy is judged here.

Jazmín rolls her eyes, probably completely done. “Matteo, you silly.”

Luna shakes her head, taking deep breath and ignoring Pedro’s tapping on her shoulder quickly. Despite that she shrugs. “Obviously, people like Matteo, who are so attractive should be kept away from teaching others, because it’s very not helping.” She answers, turning her attention back to her phone and feels how everyone is staring at her weirdly. Their eyes are pointed at behind Luna and her blood suddenly freezes.

“Please don’t tell me he heard that. In any possible way.” She mumbles to herself and turns around, feeling like she got into hell.

Matteo himself looks very amused, and very, very smug. He gives her a small stare before turning to Pedro and giving him a nod. “Good job, buddy. You tried to stop her at least. You are the true friend here.”

Her knees get weak and she feels like falling down, but at the same time she can’t make any of her muscles move and this is the shittiest moment ever, ever.

Matteo crosses his arms, his eyes back to Luna as he sighs. “Looking at your grades I don’t think you should complain that much. Unless, of course, you have someone else to explain what I can’t.” He smiles raising his hands up, as if he is giving up.

“If anyone else has any advice here, just send me an email, I’m always open for new suggestions.” Someone snorts and Matteo laughs fixing his tie. “Anyway-“ he looks at Luna again. “I hope you all have a nice day.” After that he winks at her and leaves, walking through the hallway casually and not looking back.

They look back at her and Luna can’t tell who, but someone pulls her to the chair and gives her water.

Few seconds pass until she manages to speak. “Jesus, fuck, I’m fucked.” Her heart keeps beating too fast as Pedro laughs. “You wish you were, tiny, you wish.”

It’s Friday night and Luna is definitely good at making people think she is drinking as much alcohol as they are. Or maybe they are already drunk. She needs to be drunk. Pedro made her wear pretty dress and go out with them to this one club to chill, forget about the science for once and get some proper hook up, because she has been ridiculous recently. Especially after how she exclaimed loudly that Matteo is probably too hot for her liking. At least her group decided to let her have few days chill and didn’t mention this situation while she was around.

Now she is only sipping slowly her mojito through two straws, playing with the ice in her glass and nodding softly, since her hairstyle is a mess and she’s not the one to fix it right now.

Her lipstick is leaving stains at the straws and Luna sighs deeply, fuck you Kylie Jenner for all your lies. It’s not like she cares about that, but lie is a lie, and it did cost money, so Luna is going to very complain about this, even more after alcohol, so here we are.

Someone tells a joke and everyone laughs, Luna does too, not even knowing what it’s about, though it would be weird if she just stared at them with confused eyes, because she was more concentrated on asking herself what is wrong with her. She should definitely focus on getting drunk with her friends and maybe hit on some hot guy, yet the point is that Luna doesn’t want that. Or more like she does, very much, but not at all at the same time and she is a big mess here, trying to figure what the fuck she should do and how many mojitos to drink. As many as possible; students get discount today.

Pedro rests his elbow on her knee as they all lean towards Jazmín, who seems to be jumping excitedly about something.

“Hey, tiny you, look what she has for you.” Pedro says, poking her and Luna wakes up from all of her thoughts, pressing her lips together to make sure her lipstick isn’t looking like she just made out with a frog.

“What do you want, Peter Pan?” She asks with a sigh, leaning more against him. He only grins. “Our fabulous queen of stalking has news for you.” Luna rolls her eyes and turns to Jazmín who is drinking her margarita with big smile, and all the brunette can notice is the fact that there’s no lipstick stain on her glass and, dear stars, Luna needs it.

“Lu-na, listen, but carefully, okay? Carefully.” No one is sure if that’s the right way to say it, but no one says anything either, so Jazmín jumps on her seat, fixing herself and her eyes are shining showing how tipsy she already is. “I have a friend, she told me that she knows the guy, who knows the guy, who is kinda dating a friend of Matteo and this source told me they like to come here to hang out, so who knows, maybe you will get lucky tonight!”

Everyone laughs and Luna only growls trying to not cover her face with hands, because God protect her from smudged makeup and looking like a very rich badger. She sighs dramatically, and ignoring the straws, empties her glass in completely not ladylike way, because their physics ta is the last thing she needs here.

Pedro laughs at her but gets up pulling her with him and leads towards the bar with intention of getting her another drink. “You know, for a person who fucked him in every possible way in your head, you are pretty embarrassed when someone mentions him.” He snorts softly and Luna sighs dramatically. “It’s because this is, despite everything, very ridiculous idea and you all should stop.”

“But you are so into him!” He exclaims loudly, changing his voice in the half and making Luna laugh. “And he is into you, I’m super sure of this.”

“I don’t care!” She loud-whispers to him. “Just shut up and buy me a drink, please.”

Pedro shakes his head with disapproval. “This mojito is like cheating on normal people who drink normal alcohol, not some fancy wannabe glasses filled with grass and ice. But I guess I won’t win here.”

Luna grins, flicking his nose. “Someone has to know what is happening when you don’t anymore.”

“I hate you.”

She sends him a wink. “That you do.”

He is about to say something, but they both hear someone calling Luna’s name in this very specific way, that just spills who wants her attention.

“Lunita! I see you! Turn around and stop pretending you don’t know who I am.” With every word the voice gets louder and her cousin is either very drunk, or is approaching her and Luna can be never sure which of above is worse.

She decides to turn away from Pedro and not roll her eyes at Ámbar walking towards her on those extra high heels the brunette almost killed herself because of the other day. “Ámbar, it’s such a nice surprise to see you.” She mumbles, kinda lying, kinda not.

It’s actually soothing that someone here is able to kill a person with the spiky heel of a shoe without a blink, no matter of amount of alcohol they drank before. And they are nice to each other since Luna went to college and they can hang out or some shit, even if she is sure her cousin gave her this shitty Kylie lipstick mostly because it sucks.

“Any chance of seeing me is great, obviously.” The blonde flips her hair, spreading around soft scent of her expensive perfume. “You look pretty, tonight, I would be surprised if not the fact I made you buy this dress.” Ámbar smiles a little proudly and wraps her arm around Luna’s waist.

“Take your drink and come with me to the table over there. I wanted to text you tomorrow anyway. Do you want to meet my friends? They are assholes, but I guess they will be nice when they see you in this dress. And I will promise them death if they are mean.” Luna frowns, not sure what to say, but Pedro pushes the glass in her hand and winks at her. “Maybe you will catch some hot one there, just be nice, tiny you.”

Ámbar snorts. “Obviously they are hot. I am not friends with ugly people.” Saying that with huge disgust, she pulls lost Luna away from there, talking something about doing well by drinking classy things in the club and that she should start doing this herself, but vodka is stronger than any of her safety reflexes.

Luna just keeps nodding at her, sipping her drink, since the temperature keeps being high as hell, until they get to the blonde’s table. She looks around forcing her brain to memorize faces until she stops on one and chokes.

What the actual fuck is he doing here out of all people in Buenos Aires and how the hell is he friends with Ámbar?

Luna has bo idea so she just stares at him as he is talking to other guy with curly hair and she has no idea what to do now, because if she thought he was hot in class, now this is breaking all his records at once in this black shirt with few first buttons undone, what obviously sticks her eyes to his skin. She is such a mess because of some guy, and she would feel ridiculous if not the fact her brain is fried.

“Hey, idiots, you wanted to meet Luna and now you act like the least classy guys in the city.” Ámbar growls, resting her hands on her hips and suddenly all stares are on Luna. Matteo’s look catches her eyes.

She drops the glass.

The other guy chuckles getting up immediately while Matteo seems to be as lost as Luna herself, but only for few seconds.

The blonde girl shakes her head dramatically. “Since neither of you all is able to think at this very moment, you-” she points at guy with curly hair, “-will get Luna new drink while we all just sit down and try to make you all speak, because r-i-d-i-c-u-l-o-u-s.”

The guy smirks widely at Matteo. “No, no blondie, he will go, he was supposed to get new vodka after all so it won’t make a difference.”

Luna is just trying to not faint, because here she is in short dress, wearing high heels, very tipsy and apparently the one and only Matteo Balsano is gonna get her something to drink.

He acts completely casually as Ámbar sits down saying whatever, and approaches her as if he has never seen her again - despite the smirk of the other guy, who probably knows, but Ámbar doesn’t.

“What was in the glass you dropped?” He smirks and she pouts, before opening her mouth to answer, but he interrupts leaning closer. “It’s too loud here, just come with me for it to the bar, is it okay?”

Luna can only nod, wondering if she shouldn’t go for clear vodka today, because any sober, any tipsy, any anything will not help her survive this. She is sure of it when he smiles at her and rests his hand on her lower back in order to lead her out of people dancing around. Someone bumps into her and she almost trips over her own leg which goes unfortunately behind the other, yet Matteo manages to catch her with another hand on her waist. He chuckles softly, but says nothing, pulling her behind a little faster and all Luna can do is follow him as if he is her own icebreaker.

She is praying for neither of her friends to see them; she would end up photographed from every angle and definitely interviewed later, hit by questions like did you finally get laid and are ready to move on with your life? Yeah, not gonna happen. Hopefully. For now Matteo is talking to the bartender casually, leaning his elbows on the counter and smiling widely, since the girl is making his drink with dreamy eyes and Luna feels like dropping another mojito.

That’s totally her luck, though it’s not like she had any expectations; the hottest ones are usually assholes and apparently this one ain’t no exception.

She is ready to leave when he pays, but after he does he just turns to her, completely ignoring the bartender. Luna frowns, yet takes the arm he offers her, they walk away and he leans closer to her. “You don’t seem to be glad that I flirted us half price discount.”

She blinks surprised, not sure if to curse at him again in her head, or just ask what, so she nods softly, making him laugh.

“Looks like that’s a thing you should teach me as well.” She mumbles not really stopping herself from throwing this and Matteo laughs. “Am I not too hot for teaching people anything?”

Luna almost chokes, but keeps herself cool to not spill the drink probably either on her dress or on his shirt.

“Okay, okay, it was just a joke,” he says but it doesn’t feel like a joke at all. His hand is suddenly in front of her and she gives him surprised look. “Are we going to the table?” He asks, offering her his hand.

Luna sighs and looks around. If no one comes from the future to stop her from doing it, then how bad this decision can be? She just smiles and laces their fingers surely, seeing him smile.

“I need help.” Luna says, throwing papers on Matteo’s desk. He looks up at her from above his laptop, his glasses sliding softly off the bridge of his nose. She sighs dramatically, trying to focus, because she drank vodka with this guy few days ago, so no big deal. Not at all.

“Help with what?” He asks raising his eyebrows and lacing his fingers on the desk.

Luna pouts and pushes this little annoying strand of her hair behind her ear. “With physics, obviously. I don’t get a shit here, and I want you to explain it to me.” She says super quickly and guesses she should be nice, so she adds soft: “Please, Matteo.”

He takes deep breath, looking around before he reaches for her papers. The brunette keeps her breathing still for a moment, hoping that he is gonna chill his ass and help her or at least tell her where to start.

“Let me think about this.” He hums softly, looking around as if he is deep in thoughts. “When?” The question falls between them and Luna bites on her lower lip.

“I don’t know, but somewhere before Thursday I guess.”

“I have extra time on Fridays as always, can’t you come to me then?”

Luna crosses her arms with dramatic sigh, not sure how to get out of this. “I can’t on Friday. If I could I wouldn’t bother you the here and now.”

He stands up, brushing the chair against the floor loudly and she scrunches her nose as he gets closer to her and leans back against the desk. “Well then why didn’t you come to me last Friday?” He takes the pencil from his desk and starts playing with it. The tone of his voice breaks a little and shows hints of teasing, but Luna is hopeless here; no one really from her friends gets this shit so Matteo was it, yet he seems to make fun of her.

“Because I was busy, listen, I need this and I need you here.”

“Oh so now you need me? We reached this stage faster than I thought we would.” Luna chokes seeing his smirk when he rolls his sleeves up. “I guess I can give you some hints here and explain this or that, but under one condition here.”

Her shoulders fall with relief, because she knows he wouldn’t pull any weird shit here. “Okay, what is it. Tell me.”

Matteo crosses his arms, as always when he feels that he has the advantage. “You will go out with me, okay?”

#soy luna #lutteo #luna valente #matteo balsano #my writing #ta au

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