#when he's not like focusing real hard on how to like satisfy me and vice versa and shit it's like

[whosjunglejim4322]

warnings: sleepy sex, switch Jongin, cockwarming sorta? you fall asleep after he nuts in you, theoretically u r on the pill bc I am nasty, (soft?) choking, riding

It's just ten minutes past two a.m when Jongin rolls over with a guttural, sleepy groan, arm snaking its way around your body that's hidden underneath the covers, warm cheek pressing against your shoulder blade.

You're just about to drift off, too, having stayed awake for most of the night due to your boyfriends restless tossing and turning. He's not one to wake up like this, usually down for the count due to the exhaustion that throbs in his bones after a day of constant moving.

But the way he burrows himself further against your figure, supple hands and nimble fingers ever so slightly caressing any bare skin they can reach without being too obvious; your body wakes you up without a choice.

You remain in the same position, however, legs shuffling as to let him know you're not asleep just incase he happens to be clingy in a state of half conciousness. You're still not sure wether or not you're the one being suggestive.

But, this is Jongin, your boyfriend whom you know the insides and outs of at this point in your relationship. His voice is as seraphic as his features, jubilent smile and the crinkles by his warm eyes displaying the likes of someone who is more or less, innocent in nature.

But you know better than anyone just how carnal he can be, how he touches you when the two of you are alone. He allows glimpses of himself to be seen like this whenever he performs, passion running through his veins like hot liquor, eyes lowly lidded. It'll always leave you breathless, awed.

Just the thought has your belly swarming with recurring butterflies. 

But it's another thing completely when it's just you and him, a specific type of unequivocal touch that can only be described as innately Jongin, and it's this knowledge that leads you to believe your boyfriend isn't just craving closeness in a half cognitive state.

His intentions become clear when his ring finger traces the crease of your thigh, teetering against the seam of your underwear as he ascends to your navel. You try not to quiver, and he hums inconspicuously when you roll over, stretching your limbs.

"Why are you up bub?"

He paws at your hip and your thigh brushes the half hard erection that is growing in his shorts. You're too sleepy to be surprised, however you wonder if he can see the glint in your eyes as he lets out a soft, almost inaudible groan from the contact.

You reach out and move some of his tousled hair from in front of his forehead, the tips of your noses touching, his puffy lips brushing past yours while he speaks.

"Was dreaming...had a good dream," you wonder for a moment if he's really awake, with how groggy his low voice sounds. "Can't sleep now."

He's shameless as he pulls your middle flush against him, the heat of his chest warming your forearms as you drop your hand somewhere close to his shoulder, tracing circles along the valley of his collarbones.

"Hmm, you're usually not so eager when you're tired." You feel the corner of his mouth twitch as he halfway smirks, wide palm rubbing your lower back and the top of your thigh as his hips become bolder with their proximity.

"But I miss you, miss being with you," his mouth is plush and sincere as he kisses you, the scent of his skin and the studiness of his body against yours leaving your willpower weak. "M'so busy, dream about making you feel good."

Your fingers gently grasp the ridge of his jaw as his tongue casually slips into your mouth, exploring while you sling your leg over his middle and your centers meet. A shared chorus of satisfied moans slip past your kisses, the comforter that's atop of you both suddenly too hot to be underneath.

"My sweet boy, you deserve so much." You practically purrs against his lips, his cock now solid against the crotch of your panties from your words. You can tell he's properly worked up now, rubbing himself against you.

"Can we...? Please..."

He's unintentionally breathless, senses overwhelmed in the dark and aching to feel more more more. You're so soft in his arms, you're his, and the domesticity of it makes his belly hot with desire.

You nip his plump bottom lip lightly, enough to have him cupping your ass and pushing your hips as close to his as possible in your current position. You do him one better and crawl on top of him all together, his mouth nor his hands straying from yours; refusing, in fact.

Your knees are secure on either side of his warm, taut middle, your hands exploring his broad chest while his fingertips gently grasp the back of your neck.

The kiss is sloppy and becomes lewd very quickly with the way Jongin insists on bucking up against you, years of dancing evident with how smoothly he seems to roll his hips against your cloth covered slit.

Your mouths move together haphazardly, no real rythym now as your inhibitions dissipate between the movement of your tongues. You can tell he's still tired, horny but tired.

You reluctantly pull away from his fever inducing mouth, trying not to become so easily overwhelmed. It's hard when he looks up at you like that, like you're the whole world and more while your fingers slip underneath the waistband of his shorts and pull them down his thighs.

He twitches when you crawl back onto him, the shaft of his smooth dick snug against your center while your mouth leaves a wet trail of open mouthed kisses from his chest to his throat, his skin sweltering.

He whines, and you short circuit at the sound, no matter how familiar it is to your ears. You slip your hand between your bodies to grasp his solid length and slip your panties to the side, grasping onto his broad shoulder for leverage while you sink down onto him.

The stretch is a bit more staggering than you're used to, and it's only now that you're realizing it genuinley has been a while since you and Jongin last got to be this close. He’s always working, as are you and being intimate has somehow slipped through your fingers these past two weeks.

It makes it all the more gratifying, and you can tell he feels just as thrilled, his lips parted and eyebrows furrowed together as a string of expletives leave his mouth.

"You're so wet baby." He says it with strained astonishment, hands wandering from your soft hips to underneath your sleeping shirt and then your breasts. Your hard nipples prod at his palms.

You arch into his touch as you begin to rock yourself against his stiff cock, steady at first in an effort to make the moment last a little longer. You can feel every ridge and curve of him, and you have a hard time not mewling.

"You always make me wet Nini."

You hiccup a gasp as he suddenly thrusts into you, lifting his knees and digging his heels into the mattress in a manner that almost seems knee jerk, like he couldn't help it.

"O-oh baby you're so good to me." It dawns on you quite quickly that he doesn't plan on slowing his minisrations, pulling you down to his mouth by then sides of your neck in a gentle yet urgent manner.

It feels even better like this, his length filling you perfectly in the way it always has, the squelch of your slick as he fucks you only adding to the suddenly thick atmosphere. You can't help but to whimper, body trembling as it remembers just how skilled he really is at making you feel good.

"You like it like this?" He asks earnestly, kissing you between replies to feel the vibration of your soft mewls against his mouth. "Yes Nini, you're so good, s-so good."

His slim fingers find their way to the sides of your throat, and you don't have time to be awestruck by how sweetly he seems to do it, too focused on the way his body moves underneath you.

Your body jolts with the force of his thrusts, and he knows your every reaction so well that it must be obvious how close you are already, your shaky hands grasping his waist.

"Say it again for me, please?"

His tone is different this time, needier and raspier with the effort he's using to make it audible. You can tell just by the way he ever so slightly squeezes the sides of your throat while he begins harshening his pace, what he's hinting at.

And you oblige in the shameless gratification, mimicking his ministrations and securing your fingers around his neck while you fuck yourself onto him in a shared rythym.

It's been too long, he thinks to himself. He's mesmerized, in love with you to a painful degree. Not to mention your mouth...

"So good to me, Nini, you're so fucking big and f-fuck-" he hangs onto every last syllable, watching your lewd expressions and listening to your praises with rapt attention. "want you to fill me up Jongin."

His eyes roll back for just a moment, as your twist your fingers in his honey colored hair, lips suckling the sensitive skin just below his earlobe. His hips stutter, and you know he's as close as you are, hands releasing your neck in favor of keeping you in an iron grip against him.

It all feels like a sweet dream, your face buried against his shoulder, the sweet and warm scent of his skin and soap causing your inner thighs to tingle. You feel him so far inside of you, reaching places only he could, holding you in his arms like a lover all the while.

You're not surprised, to be the first one cumming, but he's struck by a sudden wave of agonizingly overwhelming arousal with the way you cry out his name.

"Jong-jongie, oh-oh!" Your walls have him in a vice grip, and he falls apart while you're quivering against him, his kiss bitten lips finding your tender neck as he pumps himself into you.

"That's my girl, this pussy is m-mine oh b-baby, so fucking good."

His voice is quiet, he's too out of breath, too fucked out. But you can still hear him perfectly, sending heat waves of white hot pleasure through your bones with every word that he groans out.

He fucks himself into you a few more times, languidly and with no real purpose; just needing to savor the feeling. You're still pulsing around him.

His chest rises and falls with less fervor now, his fingertips gently caressing the curve of your back as you rest your head against the crook of his shoulder. He doesn't care to move and neither do you, too tired, and too stubborn to let the other go.

Everything is quiet. And not uncomfortably or unsettlingly so, it’s comforting. You can hear his heartbeat this way, and he can match his breathing up with yours as he does most of the time subconsciously. 

It's two forty five a.m when Jongin whispers sleepily into the darkness, with you asleep on his chest.

"I love you, so much."

[gaywriting]

The Gentleman's Guide to Vice & Virtue book review

The Gentleman's Guide to Vice & Virtue by Mackenzi Lee (2017)

⭐️⭐️⭐️✖️✖️

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to go courting trouble, is all.” “We’re not courting trouble,” I say. “Flirting with it, at most.”

this book was given to me by a friend for a birthday gift years ago. i didn't get around to finishing it until July this year. i didn't think i had a lot to say about it, but this is the longest review ive made so far :P

the story follows Henry "Monty" Montague, who were born as his father's heir to the family lordship in 1700s England. Monty struggles with himself and his relationship to his abusive father, who expects him to be the perfect son, and so Monty often seeks escape in life’s easy pleasures. The only person he holds dear is his childhood friend Percy, who he is completely in love with. One summer Monty manages to convince his father to sponsor a Grand Tour around Europe. Monty is excited to spend time with Percy, while Percy is happy to be distracted from the troubles in his life. Oh, and Monty’s sister Felicity is there as well.

this book was lovely! i feel like if i had read this book when i was younger i would have completely lost my mind about it, but alas i am now an old judgemental grandma and so there were some things that didn't impress me too much, which ill speak a little about, but all in all it was a fun book, with the my fav kind of main character (V Chaotic Bisexual) and some fun adventures and interesting plotpoints. i might have gone into it thinking it was a different kind of story (mostly historical and a little vague pinning towards Percy - that's not what we got) but that's on me and tbh you'll never hear me complaining that stuff's too focused on the romance. though i feel like they tried at one point to justify everything with some sort of explainy science, which just made things a little silly in my opinion. the relationship between Monty and Percy was Very cute and there were moments that were super satisfying and lovely to read. however some things that were being said and done that just didn't sit right with me. it's hard to explain properly, since i see where Percy comes from and if this was real life i wouldn't fault him for flipping his shit over Monty's stupid antics, but this is a romance book. And i couldn't help but feel like maybe Percy were being a bit unfairly cruel and mistrusting of Monty in some parts of his points during their arguments. Monty deserved to be called out for his actions but he's also a person who are in an abused living situation and his bad way of behaving were his own way of surviving. it needs to be addressed, and i'm glad it was, but i think it needed to be done with more thought, than just Percy saying cruel untrue things to him. these idiot boys and their horrible communication skills.....

" "Why didn't you tell me?" "Because you're a wreck! Complete shambles. I've spent years chasing you around, making certain you didn't drink yourself to death or pass out in a gutter (...) you've not been yourself. Not for a while. And I couldn't have you making this worse. I'm sorry, I just couldn't." "But you didn't even give me a chance," "(p. 161) wish i could quote this whole argument, i feel like it shows my point really well

"I can't quite wrap my head around this strange reversal between us, because it is always Percy who is the sensible one and me with the feverish notions. But here he is, proposing we run away together with nothing but each other like some sort of star-crossed pair in a broadside ballet, and while my heart is ready to burst for loving him, love is not a thing you can survive on." (p. 429)

idk i do love them both and them growing to figuring out how to open up about their feelings to each other and trust each other were lovely to experience, but i also were kinda more on Monty's side on most of the arguments and i really don't think he deserved That Much shit, like he fucked up a lot but he did it sexily and handsomely so i for one forgive and forget easily. at the end when Percy apologise and Monty tells him he doesn't have anything to be sorry for i sat there like :/ he does tho... honestly i shipped Monty more with the pirate captain Scipio they befriend than with Percy. Scipio, despite his weird name and occupation, were so nice to Monty and so encouraging for him to be a better person AS WELL AS being true to himself. I read The Gentlemans Guide to Getting Lucky (won't be making a whole review on that...) and in that Mackenzi Lee specified that Monty apparently thought of Scipio as a father figure. that shouldn't be a surprise reveal i think, like that should be made obvious through dialog in the actual book.

also "abso-bloody-lutely" is used several times amd doesn't make any sense and brought me completely out of it i hate it

i didn’t dislike this book, i found the romance-y bits absolutely adorable, and Monty is my all time fav kind of character. Mackenzi Lee manages to bring the reader along a crazy adventure around the beautiful places of Europe with amazing characters and with a brilliant sense of humor. and that is why i have bought the second book, that’s Felicity’s story (helps that it's wlw), and ill get around to reading that at some point. i know there’s a third book following the Goblin as well, but we’ll see how i feel about the second book.

[ac3id]

bully anon 🚶. are u reading my mind? 👁️👄👁️ im literally writing a yandere!bully! bakugo x reader thing where he shares his darling w his crazy classmates 💅 also bakumomo 🤤

bnha: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader x momo yaoyorozu

warnings:  humiliation, degradation, noncon touching, bj. bakugo n momo be meanies :'), fem reader

momo has a kick for seeing u suffer, she just loves when ur eyes get glossy & a  sacred, hopeless expression masks ur face. she gets such a power trip from it that even the slightest bit of guiltiness she feels from bullying u disappears.

but she knows she cant make u cry the way she wants u too. u r not that scared of her. too u, she is just another rich girl picking on u because it boosts their ego. u honestly couldnt care less about those types anymore. so she knows u wont submit to her so easily and thats when she goes to bakugo for help.

the both of them have great respect for eachother, he knows how extraordinary she is and vice versa but when momo asks him, “what do u think of her,” signalling to u, hes a little confused. hes always thought of u as the pathetic type, u did not hold much respect in his heart or mind. hed often forget about ur existence even but one thing he had wouldnt admit, ever was that he also found u hot. very attractive. sometimes, late at night he wud pump his cock to the thought of u. the way u stretched during warm ups, ur beautiful curves. the way ur perfect, little ass bent and jiggled during exercises. he dreamed of going up to u & grabbing a handful. the way ur tits bounced when u ran, everything clouded his mind during late nights when he tried to release pent up stress.

so when momo asked him the question he gave the most honest answer, “just another extra, too me,” momo seemed satisfied w his answer, “so, u dont care about her?” she asks & bakugo agrees. “well she pisses me off.”

the spite momo held in her tone made it hard to believe it was actually her speaking. she asks bakugo for his help. she promises him that he can do whatever he wants with u, whatever. he had said he didnt care about u, it should be easy for him to bully u. he agrees besides, who could say no to momo.

it starts of with usual teasing, hes calling u names, deeming u worthless & laughing when he sees u tear up from his harsh words. he feels amazing, like he is on top of the world. he bullies u pathetically, calling u out on ur insecurities & turning it into a laughing stock for others. while everyone is laughing at ur weak state, fortunately for u someone comes to ur rescue– momo stands up against bakugo acting as she is actually disgusted by his actions, acting as if she wasnt snickering along w the others.

she defends u but what she says just makes u cry even louder. she never outright denies his insults. he calls u a worthless, piece of shit with no real importance to the world. from momo, its never ‘dont listen to him, u are an amazing person y/n!’ but its always ‘bakugo–san, dont pick on others for things they cant change about themselves.” she also thinks u are worthless? guess so? everyone just laughs louder, they know what she is doing & so do u. u know u cant take this anymore, the humiliation brings tears to ur eyes and u can feel the dam break slowly.

u run to the bathroom not sparing a glance behind. u lock urself up in one of the stalls, crying ur pain away. not after long, a loud thud bangs against the door w a crude voice following the tune, “oi, i know ure in there!” bakugo screams, his repeated banging on the door never stopping, “open up!” he continues but u dont listen to him instead putting ur hands over ur ears, trying to block out the sound of his loud cries.

u keep at it for as long as bakugo stands outside the door until u hear an explosion go off & the next thing is he looking down at u ferociously. his glowing, red eyes gleam a powerful hatred making u tremble over the toilet seat. he pulls ur face up by ur hair before slapping u across the face. ur face stings when his hand connect to ur cheek, ur head falling to the opposite direction, ur breath uneven as tears pools down ur eyes.

“oi,” he tugs on ur hair again, ur scalp burning as he tugs on ur weak roots, “u think u can just run away?” u strain ur eyes, trying to look up at him through ur watery vision. “useless bitch,” his stare is intense. his vermilion eyes scan ur tear stained face and he feels himself get excited. the way u are seated would make u face his crotch if it werent for him holding u up by ur hair, “u are pathetic, u know?” he says it like its a question but u very well know hes serious. u only sob harder at his words, fat, salty tears rolling down ur cheeks, u pray to urself that he leaves u alone.

unfortunately for u, the whole scene just excites bakugo even further. he feels his jeans tighten as he starts to imagine u sucking him off. it was just like one of his fantasies only difference; u were here in real flesh & blood withering under him. he drops ur head & u quickly turn ur gaze to the floor, peering down at ur shoes. ur face drops as u hear bakugo unbuckle his belt and pull down the zipper, u keep ur gaze focused to the floor not daring to look up.

what was he going to do? pee on u?

only when he calls out ur name u by mistakenly peep up. the sight u see is scandalous, he pumps his semi-hard cock in his fist slowly as he watches ur every move. ur eyes widen in terror when u hear him talk, “put it in ur mouth, bitch.” his order is absolute yet u dont listen to him. there was no way u were actually going to suck his dick, ur eyes fall back down on the floor as u drop ur head down, “no.” u whisper, ur voice timid. bakugo frowns, what makes u think u have a say in this.

“what do u mean no?” he asks voice on edge, “i-its rape.” ur answer comes out in a weak, broken cry which makes bakugo scoff, “how? im not even touching u.” u try to reason but bakugo is having none of it. growing impatient, he grabs ur head and pushes his cock into ur mouth, completely ignoring ur cries. “bite me and i will blow ur face off” its not an empty threat so u obey. it wasnt like u would be able to win against him anyway.

“suck on it, whore. im litreally asking u to do one single thing but u cant even do that?” bakugo is crude with his words, never missing any opportunity to talk u down. u start sucking on his cock, ur head bobbing & tongue swirling around his tip. he hisses in pleasure, this was so much better than his imagination.

“look at u go, guess the rumours are true afterall.” he laughs. u can feel him coming closer. his cock twitches in ur mouth as he bites his lips roughly, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. his cock hits the back of ur throat before he cums in ir mouth. hot, salty liquid shooting down ur throat making u feel nauseous. “guess sucking dick is the only thing u are good at,” he remarks letting go of ur face. and pulling his pants on. embarrassed, u turn ur face away from him sobbing softly as u wait for him to leave but he never does. instead he watches u cry.

“what are u doing?” another voice breaks in. momo stands outside the bathroom stall knocking on the wooden door. ur head turns to face bakugo in a flash as he goes unlock the door. u grab on his arm, pleading him to not open the door. u didnt want momo to see u in this state. bakugo stares at u before throwing a chasire grin as he opens the door.

more tears fall from ur eyes as u see momo waiting out, concern written all over her face. her fear only increases when she looks over ur broken form. “what happened in here?” she turns to bakugo but recieves no answer, “he raped me!” u scream & momo’s eyes widen. she turns to bakugo, giving him a genuine glare. she approaches u slowly, her hands rest on ur shoulder as she pushes ur face into her boobs while she rubs ur back with soothing circles. “what did he do?” u find it strange how bakugo hadnt left yet, he was technically exposed. what good could it do him? watching the girl whos mouth he just violated get pampered. u tell her about he shoved his dick down ur throat forcefully. u were not sure why she was being all nice to all of a sudden but it was comforting. u keep hugging momo as u cry about bakugo. he just clicks his tongue before getting to leave but momos suggestion holds him back, “why just her mouth?” momo pulls away from ur embrace, her hands now falling behind ur back as she captures ur wrists and bounds the away with ropes she had created. ur wrists adjust uncomfortably behind u. next, her hands reach out between ur legs, forcing them open.

“momo, what are u doing?” the false sense of security is gone as she flips over ur skirt displaying ur light pink panties to bakugo. u squirm around trying to get free of the ropes but its impossible. “didnt i tell u that u can do whatever u want w her?” ur face pales as she starts talking. “shes a virgin, u will have fun. im planning on recording it.” her nimble fingers play with ur clit over the fabric making u wet. “besides, look at her. dont tell me she doesnt want this.” her fingers vanish behind ur panties as she plays with ur holes, ur arousal sticking to her fingers deliciously.

bakugo looks at scene displayed before him and feels himself raging a hard–on again. he takes a good look at ur crying face wrecking u and filling u with his cum till the brim while momo records everything.

[ushidoux]

All I Want For Christmas - Kuroo x Reader

Summary: You and VP!Kuroo go to a holiday party. (2.1k words)

Warnings: quite nsfw, fem!reader

A/N: After I deleted the post I lost the original ask lmfaooo, anyway I hope you see this anon <33. Smut is closer to the end, but it’s there I promise.

---

When you’d finally agreed after numerous appeals of various types and intensities to date Kuroo seriously and most importantly to him, openly, you hadn’t considered something very crucial - being his steady partner would mean accompanying him to formal events.

Company events were one thing. At this point, everyone in your office was aware that there was something going on between you and the vice president, so the rumor mill had already had its fun with the two of you and the jokes and teasing comments had long gotten stale. Anything else they threw at you at happy hour you could handle expertly, especially with the help of a couple drinks.

It hadn’t occurred to you that as a company executive, Kuroo would be attending bigger events with fancier people, so when he asked you to be his plus one to a networking holiday party outside of the company, you hadn’t asked too many questions before agreeing. To your defense, you were still laying on top of him when he’d asked, your thoughts as pliable as you had been for him just a few moments earlier.

Scheming as usual. 

So now to your misfortune, you fidgeted uncomfortably while seated next to your boyfriend in a company car and for once, Kuroo wasn’t teasing you. Instead, he watched you carefully before placing a comforting hand on your left knee as you fought with the hem of your considerably short dress.

He gave you a sympathetic look before squeezing softly.

“It’ll be fine. Don’t be nervous.”

You frowned. How could you not be nervous? He was taking you to the Japanese Volleyball Association’s Semi-Annual Promotional Party, and all you could think of was every possible way you could embarrass him or embarrass yourself.

The fact that Kuroo actually seemed to feel bad for you only heightened your anxiety, but you tried to focus on his hand gripping yours tightly as you walked past media reporters stalking the outside of the building so that you didn’t lose him in the swathes of people who dealt either with big business, sports or both.

The venue was expansive and heavily yet tastefully decorated in red and white and green and so many lights, in keeping with a Christmas theme; it was enough to make your jaw drop just slightly in awe. However, there was little time to soak in the ambiance and music as Kuroo whisked you through the venue to speak to potential clients, the real purpose of this event.

Despite the fact that Kuroo kept you close, it was easy to feel small as people schmoozed amongst each other, and it was more than once or twice that you caught a few glances, some curious, others critical, in your direction. Again you wondered if your makeup was too light or too heavy, if your dress was tasteful or if the discomfort you were feeling could be read all over your face.

Kuroo on the other hand was in his element, working the room smoothly and effortlessly, and in that moment you realized how easily he blended in but still stood out, his laugh distinct and gestures casual and yet room-commanding. Soon you wondered why exactly he was interested in you when it was clear you didn’t exactly fit the glamorous scene around you. 

But it would only be a couple more hours, you could bear it.

You broke free from him while he was engaged with a client and found a table at which to stand and wait for time to pass. Sipping quietly on red wine, you focused on Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas is You, humming as you detached from the scene around you. You sent a couple of texts to friends, but as it often was at times like this, no one seemed to be available.

You let out a sigh of defeat, leaning forward to rest on your elbows, and that’s when you noticed in your peripheral vision that someone had appeared to stand right beside you.

You glanced over in surprise.

“Oh, Kenma?”

Kenma offered you a small smile and leaned in the same position beside you, typing out a couple messages on his phone before he addressed you properly. 

“Kuroo brought you along, I’m surprised,” he added, catlike brown eyes focused on you now.

While you’d interacted rarely with Kenma over the past months that you’d been dating Kuroo, you were acquainted enough with his much more introverted friend, often blunt but never really intentionally rude. But somehow this comment grated on your nerves, and you took a larger gulp of your wine.

You said nothing for the next few moments, and you could hear Kenma beside you again tip-tapping quietly on his cell phone.

“If it helps, I don’t want to be here either,” he finally added.

You looked back at him to raise an eyebrow and he offered a small smile before looking back at his phone. 

“I’m supposed to be networking for my company but I’m not very good at it, so he just gets the clients for me and calls me over to secure the deal,” he elaborated. When you peered over, you realized he was in the middle of a mobile game at the very moment.

Maybe he was more out of place than you were, and somehow that was reassuring.

“What game is that?” You asked, poking at your small plate of hors d’oeuvres. 

While he explained his game to you with muted excitement and you looked at his screen with interest, Kuroo glanced over to see you finally looking something other than stressed and smiled. He would wrap up quickly with business and then all his attention would be on you. 

Kenma, the good friend he was, was returning his kindnesses as usual.

… 

“May I have this dance?”

Minutes later, Kuroo had walked over to your table, smiling at you both and extending an arm out. You had considered how satisfied you would feel being a brat and saying no, you’d rather spend the rest of the evening talking to Kenma, but instead you acquiesced. 

He was only doing his job and you wanted to be supportive. That was part of what it meant to date seriously, wasn’t it? Being slightly out of your comfort zone for your partner’s sake?

Something like that.

Now that you swayed back and forth under a large chandelier, you could tell he was apologetic by the way his hand caressed the back of your head. Maybe you were a little too close for a cocktail party but it felt nice to feel his warmth and you weren’t fond of all these people anyway.

“You okay, kitten?”

You nodded.

“You’re usually so feisty at work so I didn’t think hard enough about you feeling uncomfortable with all these stuffy business people.”

To that you let out a soft laugh. “Okay but you rarely think.”

He smirked then kissed the top of your head. “Maybe I got too excited by the prospect of having the prettiest girl in the room on my arm.”

You slapped his chest playfully once before resting your head on his chest again. Two paces later, he rested his chin above your head.

“We can take it slower if you’d like. If you want to stay more private, I mean. You’ve been generous to me so far after all.”

Your pace slowed ever so slightly as you looked up at him confused. “What do you mean?”

“Christmas came early for me, since you’re here in my arms.”

---

About an hour later, now that the two of you were back in the privacy of Kuroo’s penthouse apartment, he finally had the time to unwrap his present. He had been endlessly patient as you teased him through the agonizing ride home, your hands sneaking beneath his waistband and fondling his privates while hidden by the partition, but you were now in his domain.

Before the door slammed completely shut, you’d both gone from poised to savage - he drew your dress up over your shoulders by that oh-so-annoying hem and tossed it aside, and you’d just as quickly all but yanked his bowtie off as you removed it. 

“Careful, these clothes are expensive,” he teased, but he was as merciless with the way he tore off your panties and hoisted you up so that your legs wrapped around his waist.

“And?”

And his lips crashed to yours, and you tried hastily to undo the buttons of his shirt while accepting his tongue in your mouth.

Carrying you to his bed while making out was a coordinated feat for someone whose pants were undone and now precariously sinking to his ankles, but Kuroo was light on his feet. When he lowered you onto the bed, you could see the outline of his hard cock forming a tent through the clothing and you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh.

“Relax, you’re like a kid on Christmas morning,” you teased and he pouted, but you leaned forward and freed him, going the extra mile to take his cockhead in your mouth. 

He let out a soft moan, his hand immediately reaching for your hair, and you took more inches of him in your mouth, in your throat, as far as you could go. 

“Fuck, kitten, that feels so fucking good… you’re so good to me…”

Your mouth watered with saliva as you continued to suck, now on your knees on his plush mattress and he pressed your head against him, this time not in comfort but in search of pleasure, moving ever so slightly to see just how far he could go. 

“L-let me make you feel good, baby, you deserve it,” he said finally, pulling you off of him so that he could look into your eyes. “How about the gift that keeps on giving?”

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Is this a suave way to tell me you have herpes?”

“69, ___!” 

“I was kidding!” You giggled at his frustrated expression, but once you were repositioned and his face was buried in the pussy he enjoyed so much, you were no longer laughing but quivering with something not short of intense pleasure. Mouth full of cock, it was hard to focus on moving up and down his shaft properly as Kuroo’s hands on your ass were kneading, then slapping, and he still somehow wasn’t relenting on the tongue swishing around your wet cunt.

“K-Kuroo… it’s a lot, I can’t.. do the same for you,”  you whined, saliva dripping from your lips as you .

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured, muffled between your folds, eating like a man starved.

Your moans started to fill the air as he kissed and sucked faster, and when you started to convulse rapidly, unable to take the stimulation, you arched your back and in response he wrapped strong arms around your midsection to keep you flush against him.

“Kuroo!”

“Let me finish, kitten~” he whispered in a singsong voice, and if it weren’t for the fact that your body was starting to buzz in overstimulation, you would have yelled at him.

Once he’d grown bored with torturing your cunt with his mouth, he flipped you over onto your back, hovering over you with a greedy smirk.

“You’re so pretty when you’re pushed to your limit~” he sang with glee. 

Still quivering ever so slightly, you narrowed your eyes at him but they soon widened as his cock finally pushed its way inside you. Wincing ever so slightly, you found yourself scratching at his back, more intensely with every thrust inside you that sent waves of pleasure through you from your toes to your nose.

“Fuck, Kuroo, please.. Don’t stop.”

At this rate, you’d claw permanent lines into his skin.

When his hands tightened around the headboard for support, you could tell he was close to climax, and accordingly, his strokes grew deeper and his grunts grew louder and your own peak started to approach. His chin found a home in the crook of your neck as he growled - that was the sound that finally tipped you over - and he too finally released, filling you with warm jets of cum your walls clenched around greedily.

He remained still for a moment, waiting as his cock only slowly began to soften, whispering praises into your ear.

“You’re so, so good to me… you’re the best gift I could ever have.”

Your hands slowly shifted around him, moving to cup his face tenderly. 

“Wait till you see what I have in store for Christmas Day.”

[kat-katsuki]

Failed Attempts | Iwaizumi x Reader Oneshot

Word Count: 3162

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He carried a vibe around him. And it's intimidating. He's really quiet and focused in class, but he's not the best student. He's quite popular with the boys, but for some reason girls just never really notice him, especially not when he's always around that guy. Iwaizumi Hajime is someone I'd classify as an undiscovered gem. Girls don't seem to see his charm, and they never seem to notice the bright light he's capable of giving off.

As always I sit at the back of class, glancing constantly at the raven haired boy as he scribbled things down into his notebook during math. I've noticed him since the first day I met him, back in our first year of high school. I sat right behind him, but I never talked to him.

He's always busy, I noticed. He's either reading something, talking to someone, or going somewhere. I see him so often, even outside of class. I'd see him on my way to club, he'd be heading to his own club. I'd see him on my way home; he only lives a few blocks away from me. Even though I see him so often, I never actually sat down and talked with him...

Oikawa-san is pretty friendly, he'd greet me whenever we walk by each other in the hall. And whenever I am greeted by Oikawa-san, Iwaizumi would also nod at me. Even though that's a typical 'oh I noticed you' response, every time it happens I somehow get super happy. I don't know what makes him so interesting to me. To be honest I just enjoy watching him completely destroy other boys in arm wrestling, or produce a god-like record in running 1 km, or even be asked to join all the sports team. Around my second year of high school I realized I want to talk to him. It was the first day of our second semester and god granted me this golden chance. First day of the semester we get new seats, and I happened to sit right next to him, to his left. "Good morning Iwaizumi-kun," I greeted, and thank god my voice didn't crack.

"Oh, hi," Iwaizumi replied. Say something, start a conversation, I told myself.

"Long time no see," I made out.

"Mmhm, long time no see," he replied. Good job, great way to start a conversation, I slapped myself in my head. It didn't take me long to realize that Iwaizumi, despite being the vice captain of the volleyball team and always surrounded by boys, is actually quite the introvert. He enjoys his silence, and he likes lone time, which I heard from Oikawa. I'm not really familiar with either of them, but if I had to say who I'm closer to, it'd definitely be Oikawa. He walked with me from class to my club a few times, just to tell me how sad he is that the coach doesn't let him play due to his injuries.

Of course, my attempts to talk to Iwaizumi didn't stop there. After class, I wanted to invite him to eat lunch with me. But the moment I opened my mouth, "Iwa-chan, let's go eat lunch together!" Oikawa called out from the other side of the room. And then all the other volleyball team members would miraculously show up. I nodded my head, Okay, guess that's that. In the end, I ate lunch with my other friends.

From time to time I'd see him in the halls or on the street, but he always seem like he's in a hurry to go somewhere, so I couldn't really bring myself to interrupt his journey. There was once I saw him down the hall on my way to the cafeteria, and since it was lunch time and he was alone I figured I'd invite him to lunch. "Hey, Iwaizumi-kun!" I greeted. "Where are you headed?"

"Oh I'm going to the teacher's office," he said.

"Oh, is that so, well have fun, I guess," I waved and left. Yeah.....so much for inviting him to lunch.....

A few weeks later, after my club activities, I'm in the art club by the way, I saw Iwaizumi walk out of his club room with Oikawa, ready to go home. I was so ready at that time. I gathered up my courage. Today is the day. Today I'm going to ask them if we could walk home together. Then I could talk to Iwaizumi. "Hey! You guys heading home too?" I called out.

"Oh hey!" Oikawa noticed me and waved back, big smile on his face. Bless him for his friendliness. I know people call him a playboy, or whatever, but to me he is a god given blessing, my key to approaching Iwaizumi.

"Oikawa, I'm gonna go to Kitagawa right now, I'll see you tomorrow," Iwaizumi said. I stood there speechless. If I remembered correctly, Kitagawa Daiichi is the middle school the two came from, but what business does Iwaizumi have with his middle school? Especially at eight in the evening!

"Okay, I'll see you then!" Oikawa waved at his best friend.

"Bye!" I said to Iwaizumi. He shot me a faint smile. Although it was just one out of courtesy, it killed me inside out. God why is he so handsome? And that smile of his...just unfair! And I watched him leave...again....

"So, wanna go home together? We're in the same direction right?" Oikawa offered.

"Oh yeah, sure!" I replied instantly, hiding my disappointment. To be fair, Oikawa is fun, definitely someone I enjoy being around. He knows how to start a conversation, and is really open and funny. He's slightly arrogant, but that only adds to his charm. I totally understand why girls like him, not just for his face. Either way though, I only see him as a pretty cool friend.

This leaves me wondering, why is it so hard to talk to Iwaizumi?! Every time I see him, he's there and then he's gone, off to do something. It's not that I don't try to talk to him, it's just I don't want to be obvious and I don't want to be rude. When he's talking to someone else, I can't just go in and invite myself into the conversation just to talk to Iwaizumi.... No.... I can't.

Originally I was interested in him as a person, and a possible love interest, since you know...I'm interested. However at this point he just became a challenge I wanted to overcome. I'm actually the type to try to overcome anything I find an obstacle, and at this point I just want to sit down and talk to him, in a real conversation about things like what he likes and what he does on his free time, things like that. I won't be satisfied with things like 'oh isn't the weather nice' NO! I'm. Going. To. Talk. To. Iwaizumi. Period!

Of course, what I decide and what I do doesn't quite line up on the same page....

"Hey~..... Akane-chan!" I walk past Iwaizumi who was in a conversation with Matsukawa, from class 1, and greet my friend from middle school. Akane-chan and I haven't talked much since high school started so she was surprised to hear me call out to her out of the blue, but we ended up chatting up on our lives and catching up. In the end we even ate lunch together and decided to hang out more often. Wow...I even tightened my relationship with an old friend.... And I still haven't talked to Iwaizumi....

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. Now, we were in our third and final year. I'm at the stage where if we see each other we'll say hi and bye. That's an improvement....right? At least now he says hi to me without me initiating it.... But then he turns and leaves soon after that, and goes where he needs to go.

"Why are you so obsessed with Iwaizumi? In my point of view I think Oikawa is much better looking," Akane asked during lunch. We were sitting in the courtyard, eating our bentos. Yes, I actually became much closer to her due to my failed attempt of talking to Iwaizumi, she knows this now.

"I don't know, I just can't seem to stop. Ever since day 1 I've been trying to talk to him and fate just doesn't want me to apparently!" I said. "Plus, I don't see Oikawa that way. He's cool and all but not my type. I like someone more... Interesting."

"Like Iwaizumi."

"Well......yeah?" I nodded in an unsure way. Now that I think about it, I wouldn't quite describe the boy as interesting. Sure he's got some quirks, but they're quite typical for a boy, and plus since he's always with the oh so great Oikawa Toru, he just seems kinda plain if you think about it. However, despite all that, he always leaves me wondering what's on his mind. I'm always thinking about where he's going next, where the place that takes him away from me is. I'm always questioning how he's going to respond to my next attempt to talk to him. Iwaizumi Hajime is the boy that keeps me on the tip of my toes. "Yeah," I decided. "Yeah, like Iwaizumi."

"Honestly, I don't even know what to say," Akane chuckled. "Good luck I guess?"

"To be honest I don't even have any hope for a chance with him. I just want to fucking talk to him! Is that so hard?!" I groaned.

I even started going to his games. Seijou is quite the volleyball powerhouse so plenty of our students go to watch the volleyball game. I made it my own duty to go watch his games whenever I can. I gotta say, he really looks best when he's in that volleyball jersey. I love seeing him in that number 4. The way he jumps into the air and smashes down the ball with those muscular arms, whoa. The more I watch him the more obsessed I get. Next time I see him I'm definitely going to say something about his performance in the game.

"Hey Iwaizumi-kun, I saw your game. You were great!" I would say to him.

"Thanks! Hey I didn't know you like volleyball?" he'd say back to me.

"Well, yeah I'm actually quite the volleyball fan, but I don't know much about it."

"Wow, you should watch our practice some time."

"I'd love to. Maybe we could walk home together after your practice and you can tell me some more about volleyball?"

"Sure!"

Yes, that's how it's going to work.

The next day I walk into class, he hasn't arrived yet. I sat my stuff down and started replaying my conversation in my head. And finally, the door slides open and a familiar raven haired boy walks in. His had dark circles under his eyes and he seemed to drag himself into the classroom. I hesitated, but I still went up to him and said, "Iwaizumi-kun, I saw your game yesterday. Great job!"

"Oh, thanks," he said and then went to his seat. O...kay...... Not how I imagined it would go. It seemed kind of inappropriate at the time to continue the conversation, so I just decided to go back to my seat. That was embarrassing....

I just can't seem to find the right time and way to talk to him.

Then came what seemed like the chance of my life. Akane and I were sitting in a cafe on the weekend, staring at the menu, and that's when we heard a pleasant voice, "Hey you guys are here too!" Oikawa and Iwaizumi walked over to us from the cafe front door. Of course it was Oikawa greeting us.

"Hey! What a coincidence!" Akane said, excitement in her voice. I could guess the reason behind her excitement. She was probably happy for me, and this god given chance. Knowing that I'd probably screw it up, she was determined to grab this chance for me. "Sit with us! Here for lunch?" Bless her.

"Yeah! Come on Iwa-chan," Oikawa and Iwaizumi sat down at our table. Akane invited Oikawa to sit on her side, leaving Iwaizumi to sit with me. Oh my god..... This is my chance! But what do I do?! I haven't planned anything beforehand...

"Hey, Iwaizumi-kun. Fancy seeing you here!" I mustered out.

"Yeah, didn't think I'd see you here," he replied nonchalantly. Okay, how am I going to respond to that?

"Um, yeah, I actually quite like this place. I come here occasionally," I said.

"Let's order something to eat," Oikawa said. I was thankful for the fact that Oikawa was here. Even though he always seems to take Iwaizumi away when I want to talk to him, he always seems to get me out of an awkward situation with Iwaizumi.

"Actually, I'm not hungry, I'm gonna go now," Iwaizumi stood up.

"Eh? But Iwa-chan, you were the one who was complaining about how hungry you were!" Oikawa said. My eyes widened and I turned to Iwaizumi, who was now towering over our table, cheeks slightly flushed.

"Shut up! Well I'm not hungry anymore, I'll leave now," Iwaizumi said. Huh? But why? Is it because I'm here? Does he not wanna be with me? Is that why he leaves every time I talk to him? Before I could ask him, he started walking out the cafe. I opened my mouth to call his name, but instead I just looked at Akane. According to her later on when I asked, I looked like it was the end of the world at that time.

"Go after him!" she shouted at me, as if it was the obvious thing to do like brush your teeth in the morning. Instantly, I dashed off. I ran out the cafe and sprinted towards Iwaizumi. The familiar silhouette looked unnaturally painful to me. I'm so used to seeing him turn his back on me, but this time, I didn't want to stare at him from behind anymore.

"Iwaizumi-kun!" I shouted as I finally grabbed him by the edge of his sleeve. The boy's dark brown eyes widened at me and my actions. "Are you leaving because of me?! Do you dislike me?!" Now his face went blank in disbelief. Suddenly, he was the one who became flustered.

"No! No! Of course not! You're great! How could I dislike you!? I just thought you'd like it if I left you with Oikawa," Iwaizumi said, violently shaking his hand, signally no.

"What? Why would you think that?!" I demanded, slightly appalled by the idea.

"Well, don't you like him?"

"No! What makes you think that?"

"I mean, all girls do. And he seems to like you quite a bit. You guys talk to each other a lot. He even mentions you during practice sometimes. I figure you guys are-"

"Hold it! Hold it! I don't like Oikawa any more than a friend! In fact the person I like is you, not him!" I just blurted things out like an idiot. I quickly slapped my hand over my mouth when I realized that I just confessed to him, out of the blue. That was the thing I swore I wouldn't do. I'm supposed to get to know him, have him get to know me and get him to like me and then confess when I'm sure of his feelings for me. Ugh. Now I just ruined it. Goodbye my chance of ever being together with Iwaizumi. He thinks of me as a creep now.

However, Iwaizumi's reaction was out of my expectations, as always. Instead of showing disgust and horror, his face was flushed red with embarrassment and surprise. He placed a hand in front of his face, as if to hide the blush on his cheeks, but unfortunately the shade has already reached his ears and neck. "O-Oh..." he mustered out after a while. Oh? I just confessed to you and you say 'oh?' I thought. "Um...I'm sorry..." Great, now he's gonna reject me. "I didn't know. I guess I'm kind of clueless when it comes to this..." Ugh...please just reject me already don't keep me hanging. "Um...is it okay if we get to know each other a little bit better first?"

"Huh?" I asked, confused.

"I think I should get to know you better...before I give you a reply," Iwaizumi said, face still red as a tomato. I think that's so cute. "Is that okay?"

"Y-...Yes! Yes of course!" I nodded violently. "I'd love that!"

"O...Okay," he seemed to be getting more and more embarrassed at the moment.

"Iwaizumi-kun, could it be...this is your first confession?" I asked. Jackpot. His ears were literally emitting steam now. A smile made its way to my lips. I was already enjoying this side of him. I want to get to know him more, to see more sides of him. "Then, maybe we can start with lunch together?"

"A-Alright...." he nodded.

For the record we didn't go back to the cafe with Akane and Oikawa. We completely forgot about them and decided to go somewhere else, somewhere more....private. With that, we began to talk regularly, exchange texts, and I'd come to watch his practice and games with him noticing.

As if we were always that close, Iwaizumi and I started calling each other by first name basis. And we'd eat lunch together, go home together (with Oikawa) and even hang out on weekends. To be honest I was kind of satisfied with the way we are. Even if in the end he told me he didn't see me as a lover, I'd still be okay with it. Of course, if he said yes and became my boyfriend, I'd be happier than a mouse with cheese.

And so the day came. It was the December 23rd, Friday. I walked out of club that day after school, and there he stood, in front of my club room, as if waiting for me. "Hajime," I called out. He looked up, brown orbs meeting mine. His look told me that he was serious. At that point my heart dropped a little. I knew today was the day. It was the day that would decide whether we'd stay as friends, or god would answer my prayers. I gulped.

"I'm here to give my answer to you," he said to me.

"I'm ready," I told him.

He walked up to me, each step he took made my heart feel heavier and heavier. My breathing literally stopped when he was finally in front of me. He towered over me like a wolf over a rabbit. It was to be expected from a volleyball player such as himself. At that moment, however, he looked the most intimidating out of all the moments I've seen him. A breath, and he parted his lips. I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut, bracing myself for what is to come.

"I love you, __________."

A/N: If you like my story, feel free to checkout my wattpad account!

https://www.wattpad.com/user/midnight0406

[astranne]

what would’ve happened if oikawa torū went to shiratorizawa

yeahh,,, the title already says what this headcanon is about :))

sorry for the late update, but my personal life is kinda shitty now and i just couldn’t get things done

So,,, i only watched the anime and i have no idea when the whole shit between Oikawa and Ushijima started, but I think it was in Middle School and got only worse when they went to High School

But since Oikawa joined Aoba Seijoh it makes no freaking sense when he suddenly goes to Shiratorizawa

So, I think that Oikawa always admired Ushijima and lowkey wants to set for him one day (even when he denies this)

Despite being obvious to many things, Ushijima is smart when it’s related to Volleyball (idk if this is true,,, just lemme be) 

In the future he’s known as the ‘left-handed cannon’ (or so I think) and many think he’s a brute who just smashes the ball

But he’s not. He wants to make his father proud and his father wouldn’t be proud of a dumb son who just smashes mindlessly some balls

Since he’s young, he reads anything related to Volleyball. Analyses, strategies, the best teams, anything. 

Ushijima has always been a silent boy, he lets his actions speak. This gives him the opportunity to observe people around him

Because of this, he’s able to spot talent and good players in the mass of still young children 

So he notices Oikawa and Iwaizumi. The two have known each other since childhood, they have a trust in each other not many have and especially,,, Iwazumi keeps Oikawa in check. Without Iwaizumi, Oikawa would be a beast and destroy everyone in his way, despite his cheery face

When Ushijima applies to Shiratorizawa he states that he will only play for them if they get Oikawa and Iwaizumi too 

Coach Washijō is first rather pissed at this cheeky little brat called Ushijima Wakatoshi, but then goes to a match to see these two 

He immediately notices that Oikawa is the best setter in the whole prefecture, since he knows exactly how to use all his teammates with their best. And his ace, Iwaizumi helps him with it

The coach talks to both of them and at first Oikawa is irritated, especially when he sees Ushijima with the coach 

(The two already have a rivalry, so naturally Oikawa is pissed) 

When then Ushijima tells him to come to Shiratorizawa, because he will lose with another team, Oikawa fucking wants to punch this little asshole

But then he stops for a second and takes a second look

Ushijima never meant to offend him, he just stated the obvious since he doesn’t know differently. Oikawa knows bluntness, hell, Iwaizumi is bluntness in person, but Ushijima takes it to another level

“You really don’t know how to talk with people, do you Ushiwaka?” And Ushijima blinks and answers calmly, but also confused: “But we are talking?” 

And Oikawa understands. Ushijima never wanted to offend him, to hurt him, he just told him what would the best way for him since he knows that Oikawa is a very good volleyball player and setter. 

“Are you brats finally finished? Ushijima won’t play for Shiratorizawa if you two don’t come and I won’t let other schools take such good players from me.”

(Iwaizumi is also slightly confused, why he’s invited too, but then the Coach snarks at him. “Why wouldn’t I invite you too? You keep Shiratorizawa’s setter in check. Furthermore, do you know how good two players are, especially a setter and an ace, who know each other for years?”)

After this day, Ushijima is somewhat friends with Oikawa and Iwaizumi. Ushijima is maybe socially awkward, but the three never really have any drama, maybe some misunderstandings, but with the time, the three get to know each other better

Listen,,, we all know Tendou is Ushijima’s best friend,,, but now Ushijima is friend with Oikawa,,, Tendou and Oikawa,,, the chaos,,, the pain they cause their own teammates and their so called ‘enemies’ 

(Tendou totally teaches Oikawa to look/smile like he’s crazy, just to scare some setters or other teams)

Their fellow first years don’t really know of whom they should be terrified. Oikawa, that scarry cheery setter, his best friend Iwaizumi, who has clearly some aggression problems, Tendou, uhm- that crazy middle blocker or freaking Ushijima, who’s just tall, but so silent and looks so freaking powerful. 

Since Oikawa is the better setter then Semi, Semi focuses on his pinch serves, but the two often train together as setters

Ushijima becomes of course the ace of the team, but Iwaizumi becomes a starter too. Since the two also train together, Iwaizumi becomes a even better spiker

All in one, the four are terrifying group and take Shiratorizawa further than anyone before

After their first nationals, Shiratorizawa ranks 4th, after loosing against Inarizaki 

Shiratorizawa trains harder than before, Oikawa becomes obsessed with winning the nationals and takes his obsesssion to a new level. (Iwaizumi totally screams/beats some sense into him) 

Anywhore,,, the team wants to win and they walz every team to the ground and somehow manage to win the Spring Nationals 

But they still aren’t satisfied, since it was a hard win and they almost lost to Itachiyama

Call them petty and proud (cause that’s what they are) but they want to be the real winners. Everybody knows of Itachiyama or Inarizaki, but not everybody knows about Shiratirizawa, even when they are a proud powerhouse and ranked rather high the previous years. They want to win the nationals and show everybody that they are the best 

After the nationals, Ushijima and Oikawa are invited to the All Japan Camp (or whatever it’s called) while Tendou and Iwaizumi go to the Youth Camp (totally to go spying :))

Since Shiratorizawa won the nationals, everybody knows now of the brilliant setter, who seems to be either a freaking genius or a monster, since he fits in every team, no matter what and can take out 100% and better out of them. And the left handed ace, who breaks through (almost) every wall 

Ushijima and Oikawa are a terrifying force on the court and the U-19 coaches want the on the team. They are almost insulted when both say no, but understand that they want to wait for a year

“We are still first years, we only played a year together. I am honored, really and I am sure Oikawa is too, but Shiratorizawa needs to win the nationals again. Please ask us again in a year.”

(The coaches are still a little bit mad, but then Oikawa comes with an absolute mad man plan.)

“But if we could train with the team, starting this year, then I’m sure Japan would be even more fearsome in the internationals and actually win them.”

“Oikawa, you should spend less time with Tendou, you start acting like him.” “What’s wrong with that?!” “You are scaring the coaches.”

When Oikawa and Ushijima tell their Coach about it, he screams at them for a full hour and let’s them run to their next practice match, ‘for being cheeky little asshole brats, with no respect’

Tendou is so proud of Oikawa, while Iwaizumi just wants to bang his head against the wall (he will never leave Oikawa alone with anyone, never again)

Anyway,,, some timeskip ‘cause I’m impatient

Shiratorizawa wins the nationals again and this time,,, more clear and without 5 sets, but four

Many of Shiratorizawa are ranked in the national volleyball list. Ushijima as number one ace, Iwaizumi number 5 (after Ushijima needed to sit out for a game, cause he hurt himself and Iwaizumi played in his position) Oikawa is setter number one, Shirabu is setter number 6 (uhm- well Shiratorizawa doesn’t like to talk about it, but Oikawa started a,,, uhm- fight with Asumu Miya, bitching about who would be the better setter and the coach took him out for some sets) Tendou is middle blocker number one and proudly carries the name ‘guess monster’

So, naturally, everybody expected them to win the Spring Nationals (which they did, but yeah) 

Anywhore,,,, Ushijima and Oikawa had some trainings with the U-19 team, but ‘really’ started in their second year. Since they still/need to train with their team, their timetable is packed 

Japan maybe doesn’t win in the internationals but they rank high, 5th place which is better than the last years (i have no idea about this,, but yeahh-)

Let me set one thing clear,,, Oikawa still has fangirls. But they are from Shiratorizawa,,, and after he won the nationals, he seems to have a freaking army of these girls. And when he and Ushijima rank high in the internationals,,, well- his fans were very enthusiastic

Listen. Shiratirozawa has clearly more class than Aoba Johsei,,, fight me but it’s true (they are a freaking private school) so his fans,,, are less crazy about him, but also support his team. Which means that every member of the Shiratorizawa Volleyball team has some fangirls. And after winning the nationals their fanbase only grows

Anywhore,,, they win both nationals (they have to play against Inarizaki both times and both times Inarizaki wins two sets) (annoying brat twins, Oikawa would say) so everybody knows that winning the nationals gets more difficult

In their third year, Iwaizumi takes Goshiki under his wing (Ushijima helps too), while Oikawa and Semi train more with Shirabu. Since they go after a year, Shiratorizawa still needs a master setter and a perfect ace

The Coach doesn’t like to admit it, but his method to make just one player perfect and the axle of the team, is not perfect. There is a reason why Oikawa is the captain and Ushijima the vice-captain of the team. Shiratorizawa still can be an intense force in this way

Now

Karasuno doesn’t play against Aoba Johsei in their first selection of the nationals, they play against Shiratorizawa and still loose

But

They can take one set, but then Oikawa went full beast modus since he really doesn’t want Kageyama to win. After all, there is a reason why he plays for Japan, together with Ushijima

After the game, Ushijima asks Kageyama, why he didn’t come to Shiratorizawa, since his talent is wasted with Karasuno, especially when he has been taught by Oikawa. Kageyama admits that he wanted to go to Shiratorizawa, but he failed the exams. Ushijima blinks and says: “You should’ve studied harder. Shiratorizawa is an elite school, they expect good grades. But... you will take Karasuno far, especially with your number ten. You control him good, especially since he’s practically a waste on the court.”

Karasuno was offended as hell, especially Hinata, until Iwaizumi sighs and apologizes. 

“Ushijima isn’t good with words, what he means... number ten. Work on your technique. If you train good and hard, you and Kageyama will be an incredible force on the court. But don’t get to high hopes. As long Shittykawa and Ushijima are part of the team, nobody else, than Shiratorizawa, will go to the nationals. He’s fucking obsessed with it... but he also has to show a good performance, both of them, since they are in the U-19 Japan team.”

(So,, maybe Karasuno manages to make it into the nationals in the third year :), but that doesn’t matter anymoreee) 

Anywhore,,, they still manage to win both nationals (of course) but not without some drama. Oikawa picks a fight with the Miya twins, but behind their back, he bullies their way into the U-19 team (after the first nationals) Nobody knows about it, until they get an invite for the team. 

Listen. At first, Osamu wanted to stop with volleyball after High School, but then he and his brother get invited to the U-19 team and he,,, suddenly gains a new passion for volleyball. Atsumu naturally notices and they both start to train harder. They create new attacks, especially after Oikawa taunts them that some little first years of Karasuno have too some freak quick attack which is similar to their own. (They totally sneak to some games of Karasuno and spy on them) Osamu doesn’t want a little shit of a raven (uhm- Hinata) to be quicker and better than him, especially when this little number ten is a freaking middle blocker. 

So, Osamu takes notes of Date Tech (and other powerhouses with strong blocks) and Atsumu trains with him (all this happens while Oikawa gackles evily) 

U-19 Japan suddenly plays with two setters on the court and with two strong wing spikers. The other countries were slightly surprised, since it’s rather uncommon to play with two setters, especially international

(Some coaches/teams are totally freaked out by the twin freak attack (as everybody calls it) (you know which one? the one Kageyama and Hinata stop) especially since they can pull it from everywhere) 

Also,,, after the Miya twins joined the team, the tension between them and Oikawa suddenly vanished, after he stopped being so creepy with them (they also saw how Ushijima punched Oikawa without looking and said: “Stop being rude. I will tell Iwaizumi.” When Oikawa starts to whine like a freaking child, Ushijima just scolds him like a parent and forbid him to spend more time with Tendou

So,,, the four totally go along and actually bond, after Ushijima forces them to sit down and talks (as his teammates suggsested after someone fought) (Ushijima ust being a freaking bean- I can’t-)

Anyway

They finally win the internationals and many teams want now the four, but also their teams (Shiratorizawa and Inarizaki) but Iwaizumi doesn’t want to go professional, as well Tendou (which many say is a waste of talent, but oh well-) 

In their last nationals, Inarizaki and Shiratorizawa play against each other again and yeahh,,, I’m unsure,,, should Shiratorizawa or Inarizaki win? It’s a close win, that’s for sure,,, but... the twins train together with Ushijima and Oikawa, and they know now how Shiratorizawa plays, the same goes for Shiratorizawa

Anywhore,,,

I know that after the time-skip, Oikawa plays for Argentina, but after my time-skip, Oikawa plays for Japan, together with the twins and Ushijima. I also want them all in the Schweiden Alders,,, just because I can :)

Also,,, it would be funny how Ushijima and Hinata would play against each other, as well Kageyama and Oikawa :) 

finally finished :D 

again, i’m sorry for the late update. i didn’t edit it, i will do this some time later

[thexfridax]

Translated interview with Adèle Haenel on ‘The Bloom of Yesterday’ (2016)

Interviewer [I] Adèle Haenel [AH] Translator [T]

I: You won the César twice as Best Actress [T: Best actress in a Supporting Role for ‘Suzanne’ in 2014, Best Actress for ‘Love at First Fight’ in 2015] in France, and were invited multiple times to compete in Cannes. Why did you want to take part in a German film?

AH: I liked the screenplay. I really don’t care about the market mechanism. I acted on instinct for all my films, and here I was interested in the story, and the extreme [T: nature of the] character of course. I was also familiar with Lars Eidinger’s work [T: who played Totila/Toto Blumen]. He is famous in France, and contemporary German theatre is also recognised. I’ve just done a play in Paris by Marius von Mayenburg, who is the author-in-residence for the Schaubühne [T: a theatre] in Berlin, and all roles had the names of the real actors, Lars Eidinger was one of them of course.

I: And how was it working with Lars Eidinger on set?

AH: Lars made a lot of suggestions, that’s always refreshing. When he unexpectedly changes the rhythm while acting, when the scene’s tone shifts a little – I really liked this about him. And that he can be so funny. This helped me to feel at ease abroad [T: she uses ‘in der Fremde’ here, which is actually more poetic than abroad but is hard to translate]. I didn’t feel as free and confident of course as I would when shooting in French, especially for improvisations. And we often improvised when we felt that the scenes became too static. Lars was sort of the driving force, so that I could react without words and create something new. And I always felt that he never just acted for himself. The most interesting thing about acting is not to always reproduce your own life, with your own private feeling – but what’s happening if you meet someone special, a partner in crime, and through them [T: she uses the male pronoun him here] something unexpected happens, something new altogether. This is what I think is the most interesting part of our job, and Lars is doing this quite well.

I: How was it for you to work in a foreign language?

AH: It was important to me that I didn’t have to hide the difficulties in speaking. That doesn’t make any sense, it has no soul. To prep I watched a couple of films with French actors, who acted in German, and this was the biggest problem in my opinion, it had no soul. It was too neat, like German lessons. But it’s a way to protect yourself as actor. Chris Kraus [T: the director] understood that I didn’t want it that way, I needed uncertainty for the character. We went along with this uncertainty for the character. He wasn’t too fussed about certain words that were too difficult for me. That worked quite well.

I: How did you learn German so quickly for the film?

AH: I had a German teacher in France first, with whom I worked for a couple of months. Afterwards I went to Dresden, and spent two weeks there and passed the [T: language] test at Goethe-Institute. I went to Berlin for rehearsals and had to speak German all the time. I didn’t want a French assistant, or a dialogue coach, I really wanted to immerse myself in this country. That’s why I made a lot of progress. Voilá …

I: What’s the difference between working in Germany and in France?

AH: It was quite new for me here. I had never worked like this. Chris Kraus cleared the set at the beginning of each scene, and we rehearsed the whole scene like in theatre. Some scenes were quite long, i.e. we shot these scenes in bits and pieces over three days – and we rehearsed the full scene on the first day to figure out the rhythm and outline the characters’ psychology. That’s great. It’s great to just spend time on the acting. But of course, it is also quite a privilege.

Bonus

Lars Eidinger [LE] on working with Adèle Haenel

I: Your character experiences an extraordinary love story of great intensity against this background [T: of facing his family’s fascist past]. How was it to work with Adèle Haenel?

LE: With Adèle I always had the feeling that I found my female counterpart. We have similar ideas about acting. Adèle is not the person who plays against another colleague, or who is self-absorbed, on the contrary. Everything she does in the film works through me as partner, and vice versa, everything she takes, she takes out of me. That is absolutely satisfying. It doesn’t mean that it’s absolutely harmonious. There are of course difficulties and moments, where it takes long to find each other. But there was always the same ambition. And that’s why it was possible for us to go into emotionality together, you usually don’t experience it like this at work.

[…]

On the other hand, I must say: I thought that the screenplay was really funny. It was quite a good Litmus-Test, when the driver picked us up at the hotel in the morning, and Adèle and I rehearsed our scenes, and he then cracked up. You actually get a good idea how much comical potential those scenes have.

Jan Josef Liefers [JJL] on Zazie Lindeau and Adèle Haenel

I: How do you see your character of Balthasar Thomas?

JJL: First and foremost, Balthasar loves a madwoman. That speaks in his favour. […] Balthasar loves Zazie, he is also a bit obsessed with her, he is even separating from his wife, but he really has no clue – and that’s his limitation – what’s behind the things that she reveals of herself. She gives him her affection, and her body, and also two, three thoughts – but this is not what this woman is really about. And what this woman is about, what makes her complicated, what makes her so vulnerable, and also hurt, this is something that Balthasar never sees. All of this is only for Toto to see.

I: How was it working with Adèle Haenel?

JJL: Adèle is the kind of person, she just comes along – as Adèle and not as a film star that she is in France – and then goes on to Saxony, to stay with friends for a while and study German. She was really that unpretentious. And incredibly disciplined. Adèle spoke German so well during rehearsals that Chris even asked, it would be nice, if you could maybe say again: [T: Isn’t it? but with a French accent] – because she could almost say Isn’t it? without an accent. Adèle is the kind of person, who likes to laugh and approaches people, who as an actress is very much connected with her counterpart, and only retreats if something is not quite right for her. It’s a special kind of blend of intellect, talent and instinct.

Chris Kraus [CK] about Zazie (and Toto) and Adèle Haenel

I: You just mentioned the aspect of reconciliation in the film. Toto seems quite unforgiving.

CK: Yes, exactly, that’s why it’s so hard for him and the film’s overall goal [T: to attain reconciliation]. Toto doesn’t forgive himself at all. And to punish himself, he also doesn’t forgive other people anything. Punishment is always linked to morals. Of course, morals which failed.

I: What about the character of Zazie, who Toto falls in love with?

CK: Zazie was for me always as traumatised as Toto by her family’s past, but psychologically this manifested differently due to her temper. The destruction in both characters is comparable. That’s what brings them together. Their deficits and trauma. It unites them.

I: Why did you choose Adèle Haenel, who has become such a big star in France?

CK: This was originally the idea of the Casting Director Nina Haun, with whom I did almost all my films together. I met Adèle three years ago, when she was an up-and-coming young actress, not the French super star of today. We were really lucky that she wanted to be part of a German film for personal reasons, to explore her German-Austrian roots.

I: How is it that Adèle Haenel is almost fluent in German?

CK: It’s quite a miracle. Adèle hardly spoke any German apart from two, three words, when I first met her. But her character really had to speak this language quite well. We planned to give her a language coach, as we did with Tambet Tuisk in ‘Poll’. But Adèle adamantly refused [T: assistance], found it inauthentic and chased the guy off. She told me: ‘Give me three months, and I will speak like Goethe.’ And that’s how it was. She lived in Dresden for a couple of weeks, took a private tutor in Paris, and when she finally arrived in Berlin for the shoot, she was quite chatty and could also swear like the taxi drivers in Berlin. That was quite impressive.

—

Note: CK, LE and JJL also spoke about quite profound topics / themes that the film dealt with (like the Holocaust or the perpetrator-victim dynamic). However, I focused on translating the bits about working with AH here. If you can, please watch the film and let me know if you have further queries about the film / their interviews. I’m not a historian, but I do hope that history (and maybe this film) can teach a lesson or two about the persistent threat of fascism, and the difficulties of reconciliation in the face of past and present atrocities. And yes, this film is also funny, which is quite a feat in this context.

[joecial-distancing]

July Roundup

Lifestyle:

I’ve been getting back into running this summer. It’s been about 4 years since I’ve done any serious running, and I have been made painfully aware of the differences in my body at age 29 compared to 25. My knees hurt more, I need to attend to stretching much more seriously than I used to. I’m coming at the task with better self-knowledge than last time, though; I know how far and how fast I’ve been capable of pushing, and I find an enormous amount of comfort and strength from that familiarity. 

I’ve also been applying to jobs, a process which started as nauseatingly daunting, but has gradually settled into just a regular chore of the week (ideally chore of the day, if I’m to keep up with new years resolutions). Getting a resume mushed into a satisfying shape has felt nice, as has getting together a form cover letter that I know hasn’t hurt my chances of getting my foot in doors. Annoyance Boxes checked off, and the rest is getting familiar with the rest of the grind. Interviews have been and will be the same process.

Games:

I’ve also been playing a lot of Sekiro. I’ve always “liked” Fromsoft games, but it’s been rare that I’ve been able to justify the time investment. There’s an appeal in the structure, endless chances to bash myself against a problem until it clicks, being able to run drills when stuck or inadequate (and there is a hook in the inadequacy; nothing frustrates me more than being unable to Just figure out a solution, or requiring too much time to get there. I have a tense relationship with time and deadline pressure. Impatience is one of my greatest vices). So with school finished, I’m diving into this as a treat to myself. The systems are fun, and the camera is so fucking awful that I get unreasonably angry about it. One thing I always do with these games that I think is anathema to a lot of their fans is to spoil myself on what I’m up against. In dark souls I would always have open area maps, rather than try to navigate the combat and exploration simultaneously. It put my mind at ease, I didn’t like the discomfort of the tension of untriggered surprise. And with Sekiro, I know roughly the zones I’m up against, I’m not above watching videos of the boss fights to learn the proper counters etc. No shame, no honor, that’s not what I get out of these games, really.

As with running, so with jobsearch, so with Sekiro, the method is diligence, the appeal is the pleasure of feeling my improvement over time. There is nothing more exciting to me than casually accomplishing something that I know would have annihilated me only a short time ago. I can finish 2 miles in 20 minutes, I want to get it down to 15. This also means the videogame tends to lose out on the priorities list—if I’m wanting to dedicate myself to practice, there’s almost always a different outlet that’d be better outcomes in the long run

very 8 of pentacles mood overall, lately.

Books:

I’m almost done with Pynchon’s Against the Day, which had taken up all of my Reading attention span this month. Unless it does something in the final 8% to lose me hard, it’ll probably clock in as my 2nd favorite of his stuff, behind Gravity’s Rainbow.  Anarchism as expressed against American mining companies, European empires, and the Mexican state; searches for a lost paradise city; warfare between schools of mathematics; the nature of Light. At face value, it feels closest to Gravity’s Rainbow and Mason & Dixon, compared to the rest of his work (I know there’s a lot of subtext and referencing going over my head with all of these in terms of both history and literature; I noticed a lot of reviews of AtD focused about the variety of genre style work that he’s pulling from in certain sections, nearly all of which is lost on me. It has, however, been very fun to me that I’m able to keep up with the mathematic academia infighting depicted in this). There’s a “fairy tales coming to life” quality to all three, if instead of Grimms’ stories it’s historical models of the world: Supersonic rockets wreck the flow of pavlovian cause & effect, the destruction of natural landscape in the course of linear surveying becomes a direct conduit for a massive influx of evil energy, quaternion mathematics casting time as real and space as imaginary allow a yogi to contort himself out of sight and into the imaginary plane. The aether is experimentally disproven in the beginning of Against the Day’s timeline, which doesn’t stop holdout engineers and mystics from working wonders with it.

It feels like there’s about as much going on in here as GR, but where GR is claustrophobically overstuffed (which is also part of the reason it’s a better book) and Mason & Dixon gets kind of plodding, the material here is given space to breathe, without losing momentum. It probably helps that the characters in this are a.) numerous, and b.) unusually solid as far as Pynchon goes.

It’s also got many great examples of something else I really like about Pynchon, which is that he is willing to commit 110% to incredibly stupid jokes. There’s an Elmer Fudd reference in here that completely knocked me on my ass.

Viz:

Watched the Bo Burnham netflix, which was mostly pretty good, though I’m completely out of patience for ostentations self-awareness or fake debate where the ~comedian~ who’s concerned about being ~white privileged mannn~ feels guilty he might be ~taking up space~, doesn’t know that he ~deserrrrves it~... out of patience because I already know what he did with that guilt (if genuine) — he didn’t scrap the project, he released the fucking thing anyway. What am I to do with this, Bo Burnham? Would you like my permission? Would you like an “it’s ok dude” from people of marginalized groups within your audience? Why am I watching along for a decision you’ve quite literally already made? I don’t trust displays of vulnerability before an audience of this size.

Also watched through I Think You Should Leave, which... sure it’s funny, and also very effective at making me uncomfortable, which is clearly what it’s aiming to do, but. I don’t really get why it’s got such a strong cultural draw within the online spheres I’m normally checked into. Saw some discourse about how the quotability is somehow distinct from regular memeing, which, alright get over yourselves jesus christ.

speaking of flavors of the month, watched 50 shades and lmao. I’ve been told by a trusted source the books are worse which is hilarious.

also speaking of flavors of the [century], S.O. and I have been doing a rewatch of pre-MCU comic book movies, which has been some fascinating anthropology. It meant, though, that we had to sit through howard the duck, an absolutely wretched film. Other highlights so far: willem dafoe power rangers acting, the soundtrack on affleck daredevil (incl a fuckin choice Evanescence exercise montage), Blade & Blade II still hold up.

We’ve also made it to the final season of pre-reboot xfiles. Duchovny’s mostly gone from this last season, replaced largely by robert patrick of T1000 fame, who is a better actor but a worse character, dude’s basically just A Cop. The writing’s weirdly probably better than the last couple Duchovny seasons, but the show doesn’t work without him — his bad acting was the main thing keeping things together, the tone’s all off now.

[aaronmaurer]

TV I Liked in 2020

Every year I reflect on the pop culture I enjoyed and put it in some sort of order.

Was there ever a year more unpredictably tailor-made for peak TV than 2020? Lockdowns/quarantines/stay-at-home orders meant a lot more time at home and the occasion to check out new and old favorites. (I recognize that if you’re lucky enough to have kids or roommates or a S.O., your amount of actual downtime may have been wildly different). While the pandemic resulted in production delays and truncated seasons for many shows, the continued streaming-era trends of limited series and 8-13 episode seasons mean that a lot of great and satisfying storytelling still made its way to the screen. As always, I in no way lay any claims to “best-ness” or completeness – this is just a list of the shows that brought me the most joy and escapism in a tough year and therefore might be worth putting on your radar.

10 Favorites

10. The Right Stuff: Season 1 (Disney+)

As a space program enthusiast, even I had to wonder, does the world really need another retelling of NASA’s early days? Especially since Tom Wolfe’s book has already been adapted as the riveting and iconoclastic Philip Kaufman film of the same name? While some may disagree, I find that this Disney+ series does justify its existence by focusing more on the relationships of the astronauts and their personal lives than the technical science (which may be partially attributable to budget limitations?). The series is kind of like Mad Men but with NASA instead of advertising (and real people, of course), so if that sounds intriguing, I encourage you to give it a whirl.

9. Fargo: Season 4 (FX)

As a big fan of Noah Hawley’s Coen Brothers pastiche/crime anthology series, I was somewhat let down by this latest season. Drawing its influence primarily from the likes of gangster drama Miller’s Crossing – one of the Coens’ least comedic/idiosyncratic efforts – this season is more straightforward than its predecessors and includes a lot of characters and plot-threads that never quite cohere. That said, it is still amongst the year’s most ambitious television with another stacked cast, and the (more-or-less) standalone episode “East/West” is enough to make the season worthwhile.

8. The Last Dance (ESPN)

Ostensibly a 10-episode documentary about the 1990s Chicago Bulls’ sixth and final NBA Championship run, The Last Dance actually broadens that scope to survey the entire history of Michael Jordan and coach Phil Jackson’s careers with the team. Cleverly structured with twin narratives that chart that final season as well as an earlier timeframe, each episode also shifts the spotlight to a different person, which provides focus and variety throughout the series. And frankly, it’s also just an incredible ride to relive the Jordan era and bask in his immeasurable talent and charisma – while also getting a snapshot of his outsized ego and vices (though he had sign-off on everything, so it’s not exactly a warts-and-all telling).

7. The Queen’s Gambit (Netflix)

This miniseries adaptation of the Walter Tevis coming-of-age novel about a chess prodigy and her various addictions is compulsively watchable and avoids the bloat of many other streaming series (both in running time and number of episodes). The 1960s production design is stunning and the performances, including Anya Taylor-Joy in the lead role, are convincing and compelling.

6. The Great: Season 1 (hulu)

Much like his screenplay for The Favourite, Tony McNamara’s series about Catherine the Great rewrites history with a thoroughly modern and irreverent sensibility (see also: Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette). Elle Fanning brings a winning charm and strength to the title role and Nicholas Hoult is riotously entertaining as her absurdly clueless and ribald husband, Emperor Peter III. Its 10-episodes occasionally tilt into repetitiveness, but when the ride is this fun, why complain? Huzzah!

  5. Dispatches From Elsewhere (AMC)

A limited (but possibly anthology-to-be?) series from creator/writer/director/actor Jason Segal, Dispatches From Elsewhere is a beautiful and creative affirmation of life and celebration of humanity. The first 9 episodes form a fulfilling and complete arc, while the tenth branches into fourth wall-breaking meta territory, which may be a bridge too far for some (but is certainly ambitious if nothing else). Either way, it’s a movingly realized portrait of honesty, vulnerability and empathy, and I highly recommend visiting whenever it inevitably makes its way to Netflix, or elsewhere…

4. What We Do in the Shadows: Season 2 (FX)

The second season of WWDITS is more self-assured and expansive than the first, extending a premise I loved from its antecedent film – but was skeptical could be sustained – to new and reinvigorated (after)life. Each episode packs plenty of laughs, but for my money, there is no better encapsulation of the series’ potential and Matt Berry’s comic genius than “On The Run,” which guest-stars Mark Hamill and features Laszlo’s alter ego Jackie Daytona, regular human bartender.

3. Ted Lasso: Season 1 (AppleTV+)

Much more than your average fish-out-of-water comedy, Jason Sudeikis’ Ted Lasso is a brilliant tribute to humaneness, decency, emotional intelligence and good coaching – not just on the field. The fact that its backdrop is English Premier League Soccer is just gravy (even if that’s not necessarily represented 100% proficiently). A true surprise and gem of the year.

2. Mrs. America (hulu)

This FX miniseries explores the women’s liberation movement and fight for the Equal Rights Amendment in the 1970s and its opposition by conservative women including Phyllis Schlafly. One of the most ingenious aspects of the series is centering each episode on a different character, which rotates the point of view and helps things from getting same-y. With a slate of directors including Ryan Bowden and Anna Fleck (Half-Nelson, Sugar, Captain Marvel) and an A-List cast including Cate Blanchett, Rose Byrne, Uzo Aduba, Sarah Paulson, Margo Martindale, Tracey Ulman and Elizabeth Banks, its quality is right up there with anything on the big screen. And its message remains (sadly) relevant as ever in our current era.

1. The Good Place: Season 4 (NBC)

It was tempting to omit The Good Place this year or shunt it to a side category since only the final 4 episodes aired in 2020, but that would have been disingenuous. This show is one of my all-time favorites and it ended perfectly. The series finale is a representative mix of absurdist humor and tear-jerking emotion, built on themes of morality, self-improvement, community and humanity. (And this last run of eps also includes a pretty fantastic Timothy Olyphant/Justified quasi-crossover.) Now that the entire series is available to stream on Netflix (or purchase in a nice Blu-ray set), it’s a perfect time to revisit the Good Place, or check it out for the first time if you’ve never had the pleasure.

5 of the Best Things I Caught Up With

Anne With An E (Netflix/CBC)

Another example of classic literature I had no prior knowledge of (see also Little Women and Emma), this Netflix/CBC adaptation of Anne of Green Gables was strongly recommended by several friends so I finally gave it a shot. While this is apparently slightly more grown-up than the source material, it’s not overly grimdark or self-serious but rather humane and heartfelt, expanding the story’s scope to include Black and First Nations peoples in early 1800s Canada, among other identities and themes. It has sadly been canceled, but the three seasons that exist are heart-warming and life-affirming storytelling. Fingers crossed that someday we’ll be gifted with a follow-up movie or two to tie up some of the dangling threads.

Better Call Saul (AMC)

I liked Breaking Bad, but I didn’t have much interest in an extended “Breaking Bad Universe,” as much as I appreciate star Bob Odenkirk’s multitalents. Multiple recommendations and lockdown finally provided me the opportunity to catch up on this prequel series and I’m glad I did. Just as expertly plotted and acted as its predecessor, the series follows Jimmy McGill/Saul Goodman on his own journey to disrepute but really makes it hard not to root for his redemption (even as you know that’s not where this story ends).

Joe Pera Talks With You (Adult Swim)

It’s hard to really describe the deadpan and oddly soothing humor of comedian Joe Pera whose persona, in the series at least, combines something like the earnestness of Mr. Rogers with the calm enthusiasm of Bob Ross. Sharing his knowledge on the likes of how to get the best bite out of your breakfast combo, growing a bean arch and this amazing song “Baba O’Reilly” by the Who – have you heard it?!? – Pera provides arch comfort that remains solidly on the side of sincerity. The surprise special he released during lockdown, “Relaxing Old Footage with Joe Pera,” was a true gift in the middle of a strange and isolated year.

The Mandalorian (Disney+)

One of the few recent Star Wars properties that lives up to its potential, the adventures of Mando and Grogu is a real thrill-ride of a series with outstanding production values (you definitely want to check out the behind-the-scenes documentary series if you haven’t). I personally prefer the first season, appreciating its Western-influenced vibes and somewhat-more-siloed story. The back half of the second season veers a little too much into fan service and video game-y plotting IMHO but still has several excellent episodes on offer, especially the Timothy Olyphant-infused energy of premiere “The Marshall” and stunning cinematography of “The Jedi.” And, you know, Grogu.

The Tick (Amazon Prime)

I’ve been a fan of the Tick since the character’s Fox cartoon and indie comic book days and also loved the short-lived Patrick Warburton series from 2001. I was skeptical about this Amazon Prime reboot, especially upon seeing the pilot episode’s off-putting costumes. Finally gaining access to Prime this year, I decided to catch up and it gets quite good!, especially in Season 2. First, the costumes are upgraded; second, Peter Serafinowicz’s initially shaky characterization improves; and third, it begins to come into its own identity. The only real issue is yet another premature cancellation for the property, meaning Season 2’s tease of interdimensional alien Thrakkorzog will never be fulfilled. 😢

Bonus! 5 More Honorable Mentions:

City So Real (National Geographic)

The Good Lord Bird (Showtime)

How To with John Wilson: Season 1 (HBO)

Kidding: Season 2 (Showtime)

Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt: Kimmy Vs The Reverend (Netflix)

[wedreamedlove]

The Importance of Vision [Xu Mo Character Study]

Reddit archived.

This is also pretty much the last of the posts I'll be bringing over. I have plans to update my Speech Quirks post and then maybe write something about Li Zeyan being in love.

So, back in my translation for Xu Mo's Archery Date I noted that Xu Mo had a lot of eye symbolism, especially with eyes being covered. At the time, I made a mental mark whenever I caught it but I didn't have any conclusive thoughts. However, I'm back now with said thoughts!!

Everyone ready for another deep dive with me?

Spoilers go up to Chapter 16 of the main story, and some dates unreleased yet in English.

THE IMPORTANCE OF VISION

First, and this will sound silly, I want to set the atmosphere for this post by pointing out that vision is an extremely important sense for animals, humans included. It helps us navigate the world.

Xu Mo brings up danger signals in [Firefly Date] and [Rainfall Date], explicitly the ones that you can see with your eyes. Here, he's giving us an example about how vision can be used to identify and avoid danger (if you so choose).

Meanwhile, like a broken record, I want to bring up again how colors (related intimately to vision) is THE romance symbol for Xu Mo and MC.

[Drowning Love SSR] and its two calls [Artist and Butterfly] and [The Only Color] imply an obsession and importance towards the one and only person who brings color to Xu Mo's life.

[Afternoon Date] has Xu Mo admitting that MC is full of colors in his eyes.

In addition to colors though, the two of them have scenes where they reflect only each other in each other's eyes. Their vision is wholly focused, consumed, and reflective of the other person in [Main Story 13-8] and [True Love Date].

So, in this case, vision is being used to give weight and importance to the bond between Xu Mo and MC. Not only can vision warn us about dangers and let us avoid them, but it can also identify important things to us (whatever that may be).

ACTUALLY, ABOUT THAT VISION...

However, in [Afternoon Date], Xu Mo actually gives an interesting lecture about Theodor Erismann and Iva Kohler's experiment on inverted vision. Interesting that Elex chose to drop their names, because the Chinese version included it...

TL;DR Kohler, when he wore the goggles that inverted his vision (up became down, and vice versa), he had a hard time doing things but his brain ended up adjusting and, by the end, he could go about their daily lives with these goggles on. Other people could even drive with them on!

Xu Mo goes on to say an intriguing line which Elex decided they wanted no part in LOL. So, in English, he goes "That's how malleable our brain is. The world you see may not be real. Perspectives can easily be changed".

In Chinese, he goes "这就是大脑的可塑性带来的效果、你看到的世界也许不是这个样子、去无存清、用进废退" which basically translates to "This is the result of our brain's plasticity. The world you see may not be as it seems. The brain eliminates anything other than what is essential and that is the law of use and disuse."

I took liberties here to get my translation to make sense, because 4 character phrases are always a headache to translate. I'm sick and tired of Elex dropping lines though!!

Anyway, the reason I bring up Xu Mo's lecture here is because it's being said that vision actually isn't so important. Like he pointed out, what we see may not even be the "real" world and it's just our interpretation of it through our senses. I'm going to stop here before we end up going to Wittgenstein's theory of experiential epistemology.

But the fact that our brain can adjust to messed up vision and still lets us go about our daily life shows how adjustable we are to our senses being deprived. Not to mention, there's lots of disabled people getting by just fine in our world too, blind people included.

VISION ISN'T ALL THAT IMPORTANT

In [Main Story 1-9] Xu Mo delivers his infamous line about how, when MC runs into danger, she is to trust in her instincts.

In [Main Story 9-22] Xu Mo talks about dreams, lucid dreams, and how there is no such thing as absolute reality, only reality begetting reality. Honestly, this is some mumbo jumbo and I'm sure there's different interpretations for what he meant here... but how I'm understanding it is that, again, he is pointing out that reality is what we experience and believe to be reality.

This is important and leads into my next example because, if reality is what you make of it then, again, vision isn't all that important and you can't rely on it.

In [Main Story 13-15] Xu Mo and MC go to the abandoned lab and see the [1 Corinthians 13:12] line on the wall "For now we see through a glass, darkly...". The meaning of this line is that we have an obscure or imperfect vision of reality.

Over and over again in Xu Mo's chapters we get these lines about how reality (and the truth) isn't something we can literally see. In my various character studies, I've tied this back to him gentling his eventual reveal as Ares to the MC, but here I'm using it to point out that it lessens the importance of vision because it's clearly a useless sense in this context.

Now, after all this emphasis on the lack of importance of vision, there's these scenes:

[Main Story 9-22] Xu Mo covers MC's eyes when they're both sharing the dream about the car accident in his past.

[Main Story 16-22] Xu Mo covers MC's eyes before he removes her from the dream world.

[Blossom Date] Xu Mo covers MC's eyes to demonstrate how her other senses heighten and lets her listen to the sounds of nature around her. This also lets MC hear all the suppressed emotions in his voice.

Again, in [Blossom Date] MC covers Xu Mo's eyes this time. His monologue shows that he's amused because he doesn't need his senses heightened, he has always heard his heart beat for her.

[CN Archery Date] MC covers his eyes to get him to sleep in the car.

In [Main Story 5-14] Xu Mo tells MC that it's not what you see that's important, but who you see it with. He's really diminishing the importance of vision and putting more weight into the experiences and feelings you get elsewhere.

MC clearly takes his words to heart because in [Hot Spring Date] she closes her eyes to avoid seeing the snow, since she wants to see the first snowfall WITH him (at the time, they were in a hot spring separated by a wooden divider).

Lastly, I mentioned this in my massive character study for Xu Mo that I actually think his actions, up to now, have disproved his obsession over the one and only color in his life (aka. importance of vision) because he hasn't tried to chain her to his side. He's let her escape, or helped her escape, in his chapters.

Then, in [Memory Palace: The Night Before], we see that Xu Mo can barely remember MC's colors and is prepared to lose it completely when they meet at the news conference. In [Main Story 16-22] MC sees moments of Xu Mo's past but it's already all in black and white.

Remember Erismann and Kohler's experiment with the inverted goggles and how the brain adapts quickly to wonky vision? Haha... Xu Mo has made the choice to abandon the color in his life (for her own good?) and now his brain will just have to adapt to a black and white world.

I say adapt but, well, he's been living in one for 26 years (except for that one time he met the MC?) and so it's more like he's returning to a familiar world. The plasticity of the brain will make it so he'll have no hindrances navigating through the world, but whether he's emotionally satisfied is another question.

THEY KNOW EACH OTHER SOUL-DEEP

BUT!! It's not all doom and gloom! Because here I'm going to say that Xu Mo and MC know each other on a soul-deep level. Not only do they play off of each other well (examples in the character study with poems and quoting each other), but there's also:

[Autumn Whisper SSR Call: Breakfast Time] MC delivers breakfast to Xu Mo's office and hides it behind a stack of books. He guesses it right on the first try and after MC asks if he has x-ray vision he answers "I don't have x-ray vision, but... you certainly don't have any secrets in my eyes, and you can't hide anything. Isn't that right?".

Meanwhile, in [CN Archery Date], MC picks out Xu Mo's bow among all the others in a line up, because she knows his personality, and this surprises him.

In the [Go See Him] sometimes Xu Mo will have a line where he says "Even with my eyes closed, I can tell its you".

[Midnight Date] and [True Love Date] make references to the red string of fate (although in a negative light because it pains Xu Mo) but the CN traditional wedding theme literally shows Xu Mo and MC bound by the red string of fate.

Those connected by the red thread are destined to be together, no matter their appearance, the place, the time, or their circumstances. They're connected to each other on the level of the soul and they'll always recognize and know each other.

CONCLUSION

So, how about it? Is vision important or not important to Xu Mo?

MC being Xu Mo's only color in the world is super important and romantic, but at the same time it's equally important and puts a twist on this romance that, hey, they don't actually need to rely on this color connection between them because they're connected on a deeper (?) level.

MC doesn't need her eyes to see and understand Xu Mo. She just has to trust in her instincts and believe in his character.

Meanwhile, Xu Mo can function without color as long as she's still here in the world although... maybe he is emotionally lacking something still LOL. There's always this hint of awe in his monologues whenever he thinks about MC and the color she brings with her.

Haha, at the time of writing this post, I didn't strongly believe in one or the other side. I just thought it'd be interesting to point this out. However, I read an amazing comment by @Edhie421 on Reddit:

And then the most famous sentence of [The Little Prince], of course, that I read when I was 7 and never forgot "It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." (A very good translation from the original French, I might add.) That seems to me to reflect the other point you were making: that Lucien and MC both teach each other to look beyond the surface. While they're both obsessed with surface sight first - he with her colours, she with not wanting to notice the darkness in his behaviour - they slowly learn to see each other's value beyond. In that sense, I believe it's important that MC went through his betrayal, and that he went through being severed from her. He must learn that she means much more to him than the colours she brings, and she is learning to love him for all of the person he really is, the good and bad, and not just the lovely image that he projects at first. In that sense, it's a reflection of transition from passionate love into deep, lasting love: going beyond the surface (the iridescent shimmer) of your expectations and appreciating each other for who you are, stripped down to your bare, sometimes terrifying essence.

[espritneo-ctf]

Alpha!James Bond/Omega!Alec Trevelyan, NC-17, First time

Cut from my bowerbirds-inspired omegaverse. Set after fade to black.

“James,“ Alec crooned. “Watch, James.” Alec guided his cock upright and like a string drawing him along, James lifted his head.

James slid in with a long, filthy squelch. Alec, still grinning like the cat that got into the cream, let out a decadent groan, pumping his hips experimentally as he bottomed out.

“The rags were right.” He groaned. “You feel fantastic.” His green eyes gleamed hungrily. “I understand why the line went out the door. Your cock is exquisite.”

“Alec,” James gritted out. James' hands curled helplessly on the pillow. “I'll come if you keep moving.”

Alec smirked. “You'll give me your knot.” He corrected with a deft twist that sent James bucking. But he didn't close his eyes, didn't grab, didn't do more than whisper his omega's name.

For a year, he hasn't let himself imagine this: Alec naked... Alec sitting on his cock like he was entitled to it...Alec's omega musk rich and potent in his nostrils, on his tongue.

This just might just be the straw that broke the camel's back. Or in his case, send him over the edge. They fit together like a puzzle, Alec's body yielding sweetly around his shaft and clutching his hardness. He loved the weight of him on his thighs, grounding him when he felt fit to burst at the seams. But most of all, he loved seeing Alec in his element, as powerful and playful in bed as he was in real life. His Alec didn't know the meaning of obedient and true to form, he'd sussed out all of James' buttons.

Compartmentalization was his saving grace. James clung to shreds of rational thought, focusing solely on watching Alec flex powerful muscles. His own hips juddered without his permission and he ignored all the signs of popping his knot: the flickering twitches on his abdomen, his knot swelling hot and eager between his thighs, sparking electric fire every time Alec bounced down.

He licked his bottom lip, drawing Alec's avid gaze. Alec rested a hand on the wall and shifted forward.

They both moaned at the new angle, Alec's voice quavering as the train's vibration traveled through him.

It gave James ideas.

“Next time, I'll fuck you right against the wall of your precious train,” he rasped, turned on beyond belief.

Alec dragged his teeth over James’ lip. James licked after his treating mouth.

The spot behind his balls tingled and he shoved his half formed knot in just as it popped.

James arched his head back, Alec sucking contentedly on his neck while he ground his knot as hard as he could.

“That should take the edge off.” Alec firmly moved his chin down. “Look at me, James.”

James panted, slack-jawed.

Alec rubbed his thumb over his damp mouth, dipping inside to stroke the inside of his bottom lip.

James thrilled at the lightly possessive gesture, the casual pushback against his dominance.

“Still coming?” Alec asked sweetly. James nodded. Good. Alec squeezed his knot and James groaned as his heartrate kicked up.

Alec set up a relentless rhythm milking him straight from the root. His balls spasmed in counterpoint and the tingling intensified until his teeth ached and he struggled to stay still.

“There you are, alpha.” Alec said in delight. “Come and get me.”

James surged upright and dragged them to the head of the nest. He braced his shoulders against the wall and planted his feet flat on the mattress, trapping Alec in the cage of his body.

He pulled his omega close until Alec blanketed him. Then he curled his body around Alec and tried to get even closer, until they were thoroughly tangled in an awkward ball of limbs. “You're mine.” He finally let himself say. It came out a dark, garbled mess.

Alec growled in agreement.

James had one hand on his neck, the other clamped tight on his shoulder from below, anchoring Alec into his short, frantic thrusts. In turn, Alec had a punishing grip on James' hair and wrung three more orgasms out of him before he was satisfied and relaxed the vice like hold on James' knot.

James slumped, catching his breath.

Alec was starting to tire. He shifted more of his weight on James, who accepted him readily, keeping the squirming omega close and comfortable.

“Alright, my darling.” He murmured encouragingly into Alec's ear, interspersing his words with chaste kisses.

Alec shivered anyways, whining into James' shoulder.

“You've been so good. You're absolutely perfect for me.”

He wriggled a hand in the right space between their bellies and thumbed over the crown.

“Oh, sweetheart. You're so wet.” Alec gasped and bit down gently, worrying the tendon as James worked his still-hard cock in and out. His knot had gone down, giving him more play.

He stroked Alec's length in counterpoint and reached further to press up on his perinium.

Perfect. He was perfect. James lost track of the words coming out of his mouth, his senses fixated on how sweetly Alec took his pleasure under James' lips, his fingers, the messy wetness where they joined.

He was almost disappointed when Alec came with a muffled scream, his hands digging in hard enough to leave bruises.

Oh, he couldn't wait to do it all over again.

[trashmenofmarvel]

Devil’s Backbone - Chapter 22

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x S.H.I.E.L.D. agent!Reader

Summary: With your team dead and your mission failed, you’ve been taken by the assassin to an unknown location and are at the mercy of your cruel tormentors. (This fic is explicit, 18+ only, dubcon in earlier chapters)

Chapter Warnings: Violence, blood, references to past sexual abuse, general Hydra creepiness

Word Count: 2.7k

AO3

(gif by @dailymarvel​)

Step three: Once the highest threat is identified, eliminate it.

You rounded the corner and pulled the trigger over and over, giving Rumlow zero opportunity to return fire. You charged forward and quickly took cover behind a desk to your right; wood and glass dividers shattered above your head from bullet impacts.

On your knees, you shot around the corner of the desk in his direction, pulling back when you saw movement from his side. Even with the fresh pistol, you soon ran out of ammunition, but so did he. Once silence filled the room, Rumlow shouted.

“You’re out!”

“So are you!” you yelled back.

He chuckled. “That’s my girl.”

You saw red. The hurt, the betrayal, all of it flowed into your spine, and all you could imagine was Rumlow’s body at your feet.

“No! You don’t get to say that! You betrayed S.H.I.E.L.D.!”

“We are S.H.I.E.L.D.,” he responded in an amused tone.

“Then you betrayed our team! You betrayed me.”

Your voice shook from the force of your anger, and that was fine. What you hated was how easily the hurt bled into your words. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how deep his betrayal had wounded you. Because it hurt fucking bad.

“This isn’t what I wanted.” There was a pause in which you thought you heard Rumlow sigh. “You were supposed to be with us by now.”

Your vision blurred and you blinked away the tears, refusing to shed them on his account.

“Did you do it?” You wanted him to say no, even now. “Did you order the hit on the convoy?”

His voice drifted over to you from across the room, and for a moment, he was your commander again. You could almost see him in your mind’s eye, pacing in front of the team with his hands clasped behind his back as he gave a mission briefing.

“Kartal was working for us. Or he was, until he got cold feet, or a conscience, or whatever the fuck. Pierce couldn’t have him going to the feds, though, could he? And I needed to weed out the weaker members of the team who I knew wouldn’t make the cut. More importantly, I made sure you were kept alive. I had you spared, Williams, because I knew you’d come around. With some persuasion.”

Your stomach roiled and your throat burned.

“I will never be a part of HYDRA,” you spit out.

“Kid,” he laughed, “haven’t you been paying attention? You’ve been HYDRA all along. You just didn’t know it.”

You couldn’t listen to one more word or you would scream. You pushed off from the desk you had been sitting against and stepped out into full view.

Maybe he heard you, or maybe he just knew you that well, because Rumlow did the same. He pulled the combat knife from his belt, twirling it between his fingers, his voice almost sympathetic. “It’s not too late, you know. Pierce wasn’t lying when he said he was impressed.”

Another twirl of his fingers, his smile just as razor sharp.

“Of course, he doesn’t know how sentimental you get. You’re a scrappy little shit, like a mongrel that just won’t die no matter how often it’s kicked and starved. First I thought it was really fuckin’ sad, but then I saw the one thing no one else did. Your potential.”

You tried not to react—failed—and your frown turned into a grimace. Rumlow’s smile widened to a grin.

“But in order to get there, you had to have the softness beaten outta ya. So I toughened you up, cut off all the baby fat. You gonna resent me for that, kid? After all I’ve done for you, you’re gonna turn this around and pretend I didn’t make you the best damn agent since Romanoff?”

His grin faded and dark clouds gathered over his eyes.

“You fuckin’ owe me everything, girl.”

Something within you broke, and you launched yourself at him before you could rethink your strategy. Your ferocity caught him by surprise; he nearly dropped the knife when you kicked at his arm. Rumlow held tight to his weapon and moved backwards, dodging out of range of your attacks.

You knew what he was doing, drawing you out and trying to exhaust you. The only way to counteract that was to close the distance, but then there was the knife to consider.

You picked up a filled three-inch binder from a desk, charged at him, and used the book to shield and deflect the slash of his knife.

It was no vibranium shield, but it worked; you got close enough to kick him hard in the gut. Rumlow rolled backward and stopped at a crouch, slowly standing up as he wiped the blood from his torn lip. His expression wasn’t so controlled now—there was real anger there.

“Pierce had such high hopes for you. You were gonna be our golden goose. HYDRA’s greatest project in history, until the asset went fucking nuclear and killed everyone on the goddamn medical team.”

The asset. The phrase stuck in your throat, tarry and sick and foul.

“What did you do to him?” you asked hoarsely.

Rumlow raised his knife again, readying himself for another round. You didn’t think he was going to answer, until he did.

“Same thing we were gonna do to you,” he said with a smirk. “Pump you full of super soldier serum—a special Soviet blend—and break your mind into itty-bitty pieces.” His smirk faded into a frown. “But then he fucked it all to hell, and we still don’t know why.”

He lunged.

You had been so shocked by his words you didn’t react in time. You managed to deflect his knife once before he slung his arm around your neck and pivoted you around, slamming you against his chest.

You wheezed, barely able to breathe as he held the knife in front of your face.

“How’d you do it, huh? How’d you get inside his head?” His warm breath hit your ear and you tried to twist away, but he held you in an unbreakable vice. “The asset was compliant one day, batshit crazy the next. Pierce was gonna wipe him that night, you know. Said you were a goddamn nuisance, a distraction. Some fuckin’ bullshit that was, weapons don’t get distracted. They have a purpose. They get used. And boy, did we use that fucker until he couldn’t be used anymore.”

Icicles trickled down your spine. Your mind couldn’t grasp the meaning of his words, wouldn’t grasp it.

“He killed the doctors, the technicians, almost everyone in the prison. I expected they’d find your body in a ditch somewhere, battered and broken, but there you were at the safe house, alive and whole. So, how’d you do it? How’d you take control?”

Rumlow’s warm breath hit the side of your face and you turned away, wincing. You struggled again but he had you trapped, helpless to do anything but listen to the horrible things he was saying.

“The guys on duty did say he visited your cell a few times. Is that why he’s outside right now, tryin’ to help Cap? You femme fatale’d him into obedience?”

You said nothing, baring your teeth and trying to pull his arm off your neck. It was pointless, given that the limb was almost pure, corded muscle.

Rumlow gave a bark of sharp laughter so sudden it startled you.

“Or… no. No, you didn’t do anything to him at all. It’s what he did to you.” Another laugh, delighted in a way that made your stomach twist. You said nothing, more focused on clawing at his arm then entertaining his nasty accusations. He ignored your struggles, you wondered if he could even feel the bite of your blunted nails.

“Shit, I didn’t know he had it in him,” he continued on, grating. “Christ. If you had any idea what Pierce had in store for you two, you’d realize how fuckin’ ironic that is. He got his dick wet and they didn’t even have to order him to do it. I mean… shit. That’s all sorts of perverted—“

You slammed your elbow back into his ribs and felt a satisfying crack. He howled in pain but somehow still held on as he stumbled backward, his grip even tighter now around your neck.

You wanted to cover your ears or scream or do something. Anything to make him stop.

And still he kept fucking talking.

“Yeah, got under your skin, didn’t I?” he growled through his staggered, labored breaths. “Not that it matters. The asset ain’t gonna remember you once we get our hands on him again. I can’t tell you how many times his brain has been scrambled. It’s a goddamn miracle he’s not a drooling vegetable at this point.”

You would have screamed at him if you had the air for it, but Rumlow had shifted his grip and the edges of your vision were starting to recede. The world was going quiet, distant… but not enough for you to miss the sensation of Rumlow gently stroking your hair.

“You don’t gotta worry about that, kid. I won’t let any of ‘em touch you,” he murmured into your ear. “When you belong to HYDRA, I’ll take good care of you.”

He fisted your hair tight enough to make the burns on your scalp light up with electric pain. You gasped as he slightly shook his fist, tears blurring your vision.

“And then,” he murmured, low and sinuous in your ear, “you’ll finally learn some fuckin’ gratitude.”

The thing that took hold of your body wasn’t you. It couldn’t be, because no single person could contain that much hatred.

You grabbed his wrist and jabbed it downward. The knife sliced through your side and cut straight through your jacket and down into Rumlow’s thigh.

Rumlow’s earlier scream was tame compared to the wild noise he made now, and he released you on reflex. He also made the mistake of letting go of the knife, and you yanked it free of his leg and whirled around, slashing at his shoulder. He stumbled backwards, red flowing over his corded muscles and smooth skin like a river through a dune sea.

You coughed and gasped for breath. Your face felt like a mask, unfamiliar and tight, and you couldn’t imagine what was across its surface.

He grinned at you, a red-tinged smile from his busted lip.

You could do it, right now. End it. He was off-balance, wounded, and no matter how disciplined he was the pain would slow him down.

Adjusting the knife if your grip, stalked forward, chest heaving as your muscles bunched for the attack—

A shadow blotted out the sunlight cast through the windows. It was moving fast, alarmingly so, and you skidded to a stop when you saw what it was.

A Helicarrier hurtling out of the sky at a steep angle, directly toward you.

Without a second look at Rumlow, you dropped the knife, spun and stumbled on the smooth tiled floor, and bolted. You didn’t turn to see if he had spotted the impeding airship.

You stabbed a finger into your ear comm and shouted, “Wilson! Please tell me you’re nearby!”

“Where the hell have you been?!” he shouted back, sounding very put-out. “We’ve been looking all over for you! Tell me where—“

The impact of the Helicarrier slamming into the Triskelion was enough to make you stumble and skid across the tilting floor, and it was more than enough to give Wilson his answer.

“Shit! You still there, Agent?”

“Not for long!” you yelled as you somehow managed to avoid a collapsing pile of building falling from the ceiling. “Forty-first floor! Northwest corner!”

There was no time to wait for confirmation. You hurled yourself at the window and curled into a ball just before impact. The glass shattered around you, the sound drowned out by the massive airship cleaving into the side of the building.

Your stomach twisted as you free-fell through the air, the ground rushing up at an alarming rate—

Wilson appeared just below you, rolling onto his back and grabbing you as you slammed into his chest. He managed to wrap his arms around you as he flew out from under the shower of collapsing tile and glass.

“Jesus Christ!” he yelled over the comm despite the fact he was also right in your ear. “Are all your S.H.I.E.L.D. agents this crazy?!”

“What happened to the Helicarriers?” you shouted, ignoring his first statement. You tried to twist your head around to look, but you couldn’t see anything but the river below. Panic rose in your throat. “Where’s Bucky?!”

Wilson banked and you gripped him tighter, feeling like a small lizard clinging to a very large bird. From your new vantage point, you saw there was only one Helicarrier still airborne, and it had been the one that had just sliced through a portion of the Triskelion and was now heading directly over the Potomac River.

“We’re still onboard,” Rogers answered, sounding out of breath.

“What? Why!” you cried out. “You’re heading for the river!”

“There was… falling debris,” he said, voice strained. “Bucky’s trapped. I’m digging him out.”

“Why are you doing this!” Bucky yelled over the comm. “Leave, Rogers!”

“Not gonna happen, Buck,” Rogers responded, his voice oddly soft. “Not without you.”

“We have to get to them!” you shouted to Wilson.

He must have agreed because he yelled, “Hold on, man!” He held onto you tight as he tilted through the air, the wind hitting your face and making your eyes water as he picked up speed. “We’re coming!”

“No, Sam, you gotta stay back. It’s too dangerous. This thing is falling apart around us.” The same resignation that had been in Bucky’s voice earlier was now in Roger’s.

“Don’t ask me to do that,” Wilson responded quickly. He sounded as anxious as you felt. He was approaching at a parallel angle to avoid the smoke and falling debris, and you could see the underside glass dome of the bridge and the damage inside.

“Move closer!” you yelled.

“I can’t!” he yelled back. “Too much shit in the air!”

“I don’t care!” You shouted hard enough to crack your voice, struggling in his arms now, trying to twist around so you could see the carrier better. “Move us in!”

“Woman! Knock it off or you’re gonna get us both killed!”

Despite his protests he angled his wings and banked toward the drifting carrier.

“Rogers!” you yelled into your earpiece. “We’re almost there!”

You were fifty feet away, close enough to see details inside the dome. It was a warzone, strewn with heavy crossbeams and collapsed walkways as the air filled with smoke and tongues of flame.

“There’s no time!” Rogers yelled, suddenly urgent. “You have to—“

An explosion ripped through the back of the ship. It was so hot and expansive that the shockwave hit you and Wilson like a solid object, causing him to tumble back through the air. He gripped you tightly around the waist and all you could do was hold onto his arms as the world spun sickeningly around you.

By the time he was steady again, the Helicarrier had split in two.

All the air left your lungs. The horrific sight above you blotted out the sky with fire and falling debris.

Wilson descended and landed on the riverbank nearby. You wanted to scream at him to take you back up, that it wasn’t too late. Instead, you watched the Helicarrier fall in broken pieces into the river. Your legs gave out and you collapsed onto your knees.

“Steve?”

Wilson’s voice was shaking. Desperate and pleading.

“Steve… are you there? Come on, man… Answer me.”

You touched a trembling finger to your comm to make sure it was on.

“Bucky?” Your voice was even more broken than Wilson’s. “Bucky, say something. Please? Bucky?”

You were both met with the finality of silence. The only sound that floated to you on the wind was the quiet rumble of the remnants of the Helicarrier falling into the Potomac.

Next Chapter

[recremisiepitaffio]

Il Basio Della Vita

Though Diavolo is a ruthless and merciless Don, he is still human, and he, deep down, craved the warmth of another.

[Diavolo/Gender Neutral!Reader] [Not SFW] [18+ ONLY] 

AO3 LINK

It was hard to catch your breath after he took his mouth off you.

You laid there against silk sheets, cold and smooth against the warmth of your skin, opening your eyes slowly as your chest rose and fell in quick succession. He was beautiful.

How you proved yourself as not being a threat to Diavolo, you don't know. You consider yourself lucky, though you always make sure to know your place, and respect his boundaries. Oddly enough, he treated you well. Treated to the finest dinners in all of Italy, the most luxurious designer clothing that you felt unfit to wear, he would gift it all to you. The way he kissed you, touched you, fucked you-- you were his, and he was yours. It excites you, though, to have such a powerful man by your side. The Emperor of Passione…

Though, he did not let you get involved in the mafia, due to his safety and yours. He was suspicious of you at first, as he is everyone, but you somehow did prove yourself to him, and he trusts you with concealing his identity. A risky task, but you were willing. Especially because of what he did for you.

Your head spun as his steady hands, so determined and so sure of themselves, held your hips tight while those broad shoulders kept your legs spread wide. A skilled tongue accompanied by hungry lips on your sex, Diavolo bobbed his head up and down so blissfully as he moaned from deep in his chest. Your entire body shook while he went down on you, leaving you to desperately grasp onto his hair or the sheets, arch your back and moan brokenly, chasing that growing heat in your stomach. It almost became too much when you heard a deep growl, accompanied by black nails dragging down your thighs.

"Ohhh..." Diavolo cooed, looking up and being sure to make eye contact with you. His lips glistened with spit, and a trail of it back down to the wetness between your legs. He was such a messy eater.

"Calm those legs down," He smirks against your skin. "Can't have you shaking like that already, can we?"

The way he looked at you, you knew he wanted a real answer. The question wasn't rhetorical.

"No..." You teased, breathlessly.

"Mhm, that's right." You gasped when you felt his thumb start to rub you as he spoke, and you bit your lip to try and keep it together. "Save it for when I'm pounding into you nice and deep, just how I know you like." The way he dragged out his words, hungrily annunciating 'pounding' and 'deep' stirred something within you; you knew he was incredibly serious.

"Ah, yes please, Imperatore." You pathetically whined out his favorite little nickname, and it clearly illicit a reaction from him. Oh, that excited you greatly.

Before you knew it, he climbed up your body, dragging his hands close by before he kisses you roughly, shoving his tongue in your mouth, and you gladly accept it. His kisses were needy and rough, laced with bites on your lips and hard sucking on your tongue. You clung to him and you couldn't help but moan, especially when one of his hands snuck up to your hair as he tugged so sweetly. The tears in your eyes were more from the deep, desperate arousal within you that grew unbearable rather than the pain of his nails in your scalp.

"How about you be good for your Boss and turn over for me?"

Oh God, you were hoping he'd say that. Your excitement only grows. Without hesitation you turned over and grabbed the nearest pillow to rest your head into, and you eagerly spread your legs for him. You could tell he noticed the way you dripped onto his sheets. You shivered when his hands returned to you as he slowly inspected your body with them. Diavolo's hands reached under you to feel your wetness, a dangerous chuckle coming from behind you. His laugh dissolved into a satisfied groan, rubbing his slicked fingers together.

You gasped as you felt the pressure of his thick fingers push into your entrance, forcing your back to arch. You exaggerated the position while you kept your face down, your cheek against the pillow. His fingers slipped into you easily, his free hand with a vice grip on your hip, subtly pushing you back onto his fingers, and you couldn't help but rut against them and whimper. You felt as if you could cum from his fingers alone, but both of you didn't want that. The sounds of your slick, wet opening being stretched even more with his skilled fingers, pushing deep into you down to his knuckle made you lightheaded. It was so incredibly filthy, hearing how wet and needy you were for your Boss.

Diavolo breathed heavily behind you and kept a steady pace while he fingered you. "My, you take my fingers so easily..." He stated hungrily, while he rewarded you with an all too gentle slap on the ass. You couldn't help but moan desperately through your teeth, and you hoped to God he'd do it again. Your body seemed to move on its own as you grind against his fingers inside you, pushing yourself back yearningly towards him. The Boss knew exactly what you wanted, and just how badly you wanted it. This was apparent when he laughed darkly at your reaction to his teasing little spank. He rubbed your asscheek where he hit, slowing his fingers.

"You're so greedy, (y/n). So desperate for me, hm? You like when I hit you? You crave that sting, don't you?"

Unexpectedly, he hit you again, the sound of his hand crashing down on you filling the room, and oh, did it sting beautifully. Another pathetic moan was ripped from your lips, and you smiled at the satisfaction of getting what you want.

"Yes," You cooed brokenly. "Yes, Boss, I love it..."

"I know." Diavolo teased, his fingers ghosted against your hot, freshly wounded skin. You felt the disappearance of his fingers, and you excitedly braced yourself for impact. He spanked your ass again, hot and raw, and this time he did it about three times consecutively. Even he moaned from behind you and bit his lips (with the stained remains of black lipstick), and groped your ass hard. He leaned over you, the hand with the fingers you didn't even realize left your hole slammed down next to your head. You felt, in that moment, as if you were his prey, trapped within the Lion's den.

"I'm gonna have you whining on my cock, aren't I, my darling?" His words were laced with venom.

"Yes, Signore!"

He growled deeply, the hand that was on your ass scratched lines down your back. "You're already soaked and dripping at the thought of it. So wet just from my words, my fingers, and being hit. I know how much you love when I get rough with you." You groaned desperately, almost agitated at the fact he wasn't inside of you right now. You pushed your ass back against him again, and he hit you, with not nearly as force as before but still enough to make you yelp.

"You must wait patiently while I lube myself up, or else I'll stop and leave you to get yourself off alone. Understand?"

You were not one to disobey, and you certainly didn't want to get off alone. The thought of it almost made you cry, like a spoiled brat not getting what they want.

"Yes...I'm sorry."

"Do not be sorry. Just obey."

"May I at least watch, Boss?"

"Hmm. Fine. Look at me."

You sat up on your knees, not turning around completely but just enough to see Diavolo's hard cock, peeking out of the fly of his pants. The size, it made you shiver. It was such a nice cock, long, just the right amount of girth, and it curved up perfectly.

You breathed heavily as you watched him, your eyes wandered up to his, and you shared brief eye contact. He was on his knees with his legs spread, and he whipped his head subtly to get his hair out of his way. He squeezed lube from a bottle he probably grabbed from the drawer at some unknown point onto the tip of his cock, and you watched as the liquid slowly dripped down the shaft. It was incredibly erotic, especially when he started to stroke himself.

His eyes met yours again, dark, vicious, predatory.

You responded with a hum, watching him in awe. It took unbelievable amounts of self control to not touch yourself at the sight alone. Diavolo panted quietly, his lip twitching. You figure he could tell how much you strained. Though, it didn't take him long, and something primal snapped in him when his breath picked up and he lunged at you.

He grabbed your hips like he owned you, teeth almost immediately finding your neck. His grip was strong and demanding; he was so incredibly desperate for you.

"Oh my God, bend the fuck over." He hissed the command against your skin and let out a needy groan.

You giddily compiled, one of his hands still on your hips, the other on his cock. He guided himself against your slicked hole as he teased you with his dick for a moment before he pushed it in, punctuating with a deep, desperate growl. Slowly, you felt every delicious inch of his cock stretch you out.

You could barely get out a proper moan. Your head spun and your body was on fire at the excitement of him finally pushing his cock deep into you, as he promised. You arched your back for him and pushed against him ever so slightly, a silent way of telling him you could take more. "Oh, God, Fuck." Diavolo cursed, deciding to add more fuel to the roaring fire when he hit your ass again. You mewled and gripped the pillow like it was the only thing that could save you.

"Diavolo," you cried out, lip quivering. "Fuck me, fuck me please..." You genuinely begged. "Fuck me, Diavolo...I need it...Please..."

He gladly answered your prayer, and he started to move. His thrusts started off slow and a bit shallow. Diavolo focused briefly on trying to find a good grip on your body. He settled with your hips, strong hands holding you tightly as he pulled you back onto his cock with every thrust. It caused you to groan, muffled into your pillow. You could hear your Boss's little grunts too, his breathing starting to pick up. It was exhilarating, hearing how worked up you got him, but you craved more. From the depths of your soul you felt yourself yearning for Diavolo. More, you needed more. You were at the point where you would beg, all shame and care left in you gone, vanishing in the dark of the night.

"More, more..."

"What's that?" He immediately teased and pushed himself slowly deeper into you. You basically cried into your pillow.

"Moooore, Dia..." You whined, ready for anything he'd throw at you. Or, so you thought.

He pulled you up onto your hands and knees, you simply helping him once you realized what he wanted, not minding at all being manhandled. Once you thought you were situated, Diavolo needily pulled you up by your hair and sat you down on his cock. You arched your back and gasped loudly, getting a hard grip onto Diavolo's thighs that you now leaned against. You shook, trying to catch your breath and adjust to this lovely position. His hand remained in your hair, using it to pull your head back to rest on his shoulder, your neck bared. "What a pretty arch for me..." Diavolo hissed with a harsh thrust up into you, and it was blissful. You choked on your own voice as you dug your nails into Diavolo's thighs even harder.

"So good, the way you clench around my cock like this..." He grunted and thrust again. The two of you found a rhythm somehow, you bounced up and down on his dick and he pounded deep into you, and held you right by the curve of your back so you kept that lovely arch for him.

There was no use in trying to control your voice anymore, and Diavolo felt the same. The room was filled with filthy moans and unholy pleas. You both needed this more than anything. His thrusts were so skilled; he circled his hips up into you smoothly and you cried out whenever he hit that spot. He shakily moaned as well, the deep waver of his groans showing how desperate he was to fuck his needy little lover and make them scream. His hands tugged and teased at your nipples, and he kissed your head. The kiss was a notable contrast to his harsh pinch of your nipples and his merciless thrusts deep inside of you.

You wanted to just fall forwards, the position being too much, but your body craved the feeling; chasing that orgasm as you could feel it draw ever closer. You, in truth, didn't want this to end, so you tried to focus on the now. You lost yourself in the feeling of Diavolo inside you, how you whimpered his name and took every inch of his cock, feeling every curve, throb and every passionate thrust and how you tightened so nicely around him.

Diavolo, his head was spun as well. With lust and pure need that clouded his mind, he became so deliciously rough. He whined while he basked in the tight warmth of your hole and the way you clenched and unclenched on him. He adored the way your body moved in front of him and sight of your gorgeous muscles that worked as you helped him pierce you deeper. He almost couldn't take it either, his primal urges took over. There was no act anymore, no effort to hide anything, his eyes swirled full of unguarded desire, which was all for you. Your body, your soul, you were his in that moment. You killed him slowly, the man who hadn't experienced human contact in more than 10 years before you, now chased a feeling he longed for more than anything. He had to let you know what you were doing to him.

He growled your name, biting at your ear, and he kissed and bit down on your skin. "You take me so fucking good. Keep it up and I'll cum inside you. Bet you'd fucking like it if I claimed you like that, huh?" The words alone made you clench hard, the concept of Diavolo's cum inside of you making your legs shake, and you started to become weak. You were close, you could feel it. Your movements became slower and unsynced, yet you slammed yourself down onto Diavolo's cock, as you moaned loudly.

"Yes, Dia...please, please cum in me, I need your cum, I need you." You sobbed.

Diavolo started to thrust into you hard, confidently bottoming out with each quick movement. You let out an excited yelp when he pushed your face back down into the pillow, holding your hips and gripping your hair tightly.

“Tell me how much you love my cock.” He breathlessly demanded while he panted hard.

“Ah, I love it, Dia...you fuck me so good, I love when you wr-wreck me like this…”

“Mmh, fuck, you are my fucking greatest. Do you understand? My goddamn greatest.” You shivered at his affection, as if you couldn’t be more in ecstasy.

“You're Mine.” He growled.

“I’m yours!” You cried, whining blissfully, biting your lips at the flame that ignited in your body. “Mhh, God, Diavolo, I’m gonna cum-”

It was true, you felt your orgasm approach quickly; you panted out moans while your entire body shook underneath Diavolo’s grasp. The announcement that you were this close only made him speed up his thrusts and pound into you hard. The sound of your skin against each other was incredibly apparent now, and thus he tightened his grip in your hair.

Diavolo moaned above you as he slammed his palm down on your already red asscheek a last time. His voice wavered when he spoke. “Cum for me. Cum on my cock.” He barked, evident in his moans and aggression that he was close as well. “Fucking cum for me.”

His commands left you in euphoria. There was no way you would’ve been able to control yourself after that, and suddenly you felt yourself shake violently, brokenly screaming Diavolo’s name into the pillow. Your eyes teared up as Diavolo fucked your orgasm out of you, leaving you a whimpering, babbling mess. To your excitement, he didn’t even come close to slowing down his thrusts, as he pounded into your spent hole.

“Mmh...Cum in me, Diavolo….” You slurred, unsure if he even understood you. “Don’t fucking stop….”

Diavolo’s breath hitched with a whimper as well. You don’t remember when his hands reached your waist, but he held you tightly, like you were his lifeline. His breathing and moans sped up, and he thrust hard, with his cock buried deep into you to the hilt. You could feel him throb as he roared desperately while he came inside you, causing him to fall on top of you and press his body against your back with a whine of your name into your skin. You couldn’t help but shiver at the feeling of his cum that filled you up from deep within you. Your legs still trembled, and  Diavolo panted hard as he emptied himself into you.

It took a bit to come down from that high, your breaths slowed, your body started to sweat coldly, and you collapsed onto the bed, Diavolo sheathed inside you still. His actions became gentle, clearly being worn out. An achievement, you take it, since you knew how much stamina he has.

He agonizingly removed himself from you, and you shivered as you felt his cum drip out of you. You tiredly lifted up your ass for him, letting the Don of Passione get a good look at the mess he made inside you. He happily groaned at the sight, and you felt cold hands steadily finger your used hole as you dripped out onto the sheets below you. You felt such a lovely ache from it all, simply blissed out from the feeling.

Diavolo always fucked you so good. He made you feel like you were more than just a fuck. It left you so refreshed every time. And he treated you well after, too.

To your surprise, you felt his warm tongue on you again as he slowly licked his own cum from your dripping hole. He rubbed your thighs gently while he cleaned you up and moaned against your skin. Diavolo loved the taste of both you and him, it solidified that you were his. It solidified that he could trust you. That maybe, he won’t be alone forever.

“Mio Amore...” He cooed as he gently pushed your ass back down so you lay flat, and you could already feel how hard it was going to be to move from that spot. He rubbed your back after he moved to lay next to you. “That was incredible. You are stunning.” He stated before placing a kiss on your forehead. You simply smiled at him, and he caressed your cheek.

“Let me get you in bed. Come, under the blankets. I’m sorry you have to move.” He teased.

You crawled over, resting your head on the pillow. Crimson sheets were pulled over you, and Diavolo crawled in next to you. He sat up as you laid, as his gentle hand rubbed your tired head. “I apologize if I was too rough. I know that’s probably foolish, considering your tastes.” He said, and you giggled a little.

“It’s fine, it was lovely. It always is.”

“That it is, my dear.” He smiled slightly, and it warmed your heart.

Diavolo does not normally come across as the passionate lover that he is. It took him an incredibly long time to open up to you, but he was not new to love. He loved once before, under unfortunate circumstances. Though Diavolo is a ruthless and merciless Don, he is still human, and he, deep down, craved the warmth of another. You don’t mind that your peers don’t know about Diavolo, considering the openness of your relationship. He knows he may not be able to satisfy you all the time, and he does not mind if you copulate with others. You both know that you’re each other’s number one, and that’s what’s important to you.

The nature of your relationship is unique, but it is satisfying even with its disadvantages. The ability to be independent yet still feel loved by him was something you’ve never experienced before, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Plus, having relations in the mafia meant for a fact that nobody would be able to mess with you. Strangely, you felt protected as well. Especially then, as you laid limp in his bed, cold hands that stroked your cheek as you rest.

Did he love you, Diavolo thinks. Is this love? Love is terrifying and troublesome, and he didn’t know how to express it. The trust he put into you, the overwhelming need to protect you, and hold you...maybe it was love.

Whatever it is, Diavolo was content. For once in his life, he was no longer afraid.

[viceprints]

Noodle King

Summary: Vice finds an unexpected clue at a noodle restaurant. 

Genre: Mystery, drama Pairing: OT7 / OT6 Word Count: 1.0k Warnings: Swearing, missing persons. 

After stopping at a thrift store to pick up some average-looking clothes and hearing Kane whine and complain about his bladder feeling like it was going to explode, the group suggested stopping for an early lunch at a local restaurant. The restaurant was recommended to them by the woman running the thrift store, as it was locally famous for their spicy fire noodles.

Once the boys were given a seat at the restaurant, Kane bolted to the mens room. Once he relieved himself he let out a satisfied sigh, closing his eyes. He didn’t realize how tired he was until that moment. Not just physically, but emotionally too. The maknae hadn’t given himself time to think about Seokyu’s disappearance, but now that he was completely alone for the first time in three days, the reality of the situation was starting to hit him.

As he washed his hands, he looked at himself in the mirror. Why would Seokyu just leave them? Was there something that Kane could have done to make him stay? His throat closed up at the thought of his missing friend, but he swallowed hard. He wasn’t about to have a mental breakdown in this family-owned restaurant. These people didn’t get paid enough to deal with coaxing him out of the restroom. He shook his head and reached for a paper towel, patting his hands dry. Exiting the bathroom, he took a look around.

On the wall opposite to the bathroom was full of photographs of people holding up a large empty noodle bowl. He hadn’t noticed it when he was running past in a crisis, but now that the anxiety of possibly peeing himself was gone, he took a closer look at the pictures.

Most of the contestants had tear-stained faces with orangey-red sauce rimming their lips. The pictures were pretty comical, actually, but there was one face that stood out from the rest.

“No fucking way.” Kane said under his breath. Right in front of him, smiling with closed lips, was Seokyu. The owner of the restaurant had his arm around Seokyu’s shoulders like a proud father would, but Seokyu’s expression made it look like the challenge was easy. Kane took the picture off the wall, dashing back to the dining area.

“Guys! Look who’s on the wall!” Kane said excitedly, dropping the photograph in the middle of the table.

“Seokyu? He was here?” Woodam asked, his eyes wide.

The waitress came back over with their drinks, furrowing her eyebrows at the photograph. “Oh yeah, I remember him. He was in two nights ago. He wanted to try our Hell’s Bells Noodle Challenge.”

“Hell’s Bells? Like AC/DC?” Minho asked as the waitress placed their drinks down on the table.

The waitress chuckled. “You wish. If someone can get through our spicy noodle dish in under 5 minutes, they eat free. A lot of people try, but your friend here was real impressive.” She shared. “Finished in less than two minutes. He didn’t even accept the eat free coupon.”

The boy group exchanged bewildered looks with each other. Seokyu never had a huge appetite, at least not compared to the rest of them. Seokyu didn’t even like spicy food. Why would he try this challenge if he had money on him to afford food? What was he doing in Cheongju when he told Eunjoo he’d be heading to Yuso? “And you said he was here two days ago?” Cyth asked.

The waitress nodded, looking around the table curiously. “Why? Has he been ghosting you guys?”

“Something like that, yeah.” Geonwu said bitterly, taking a sip of his water.

“Ma’am, did he say anything about visiting Yuso while he was here?” Kane asked anxiously. The waitress clicked her tongue, trying to recall the night Seokyu visited the restaurant.

“You know, he had a travel guide that he left behind. I think we chucked it behind the hostess desk if you would like me to grab it?” She offered.

Kane sighed with relief. “Yes please, that would be appreciated.”

The waitress hurried off, leaving the boys alone.

“What if he’s not going to Yuso anymore?” Ji wondered aloud. “If he’s not heading there, we’re fucked. Yuso is our only lead.”

“Let’s wait and see that travel guide. Maybe we’ll get a new lead.” Minho suggested, using the tone he only uses when he wants everyone to calm down, even though he himself is freaking out.

The waitress returned with a notebook full of travel guides poking out from the pages. The boys recognized the notebook immediately. Minho had given the notebook to Seokyu after his first year anniversary with Vice. It was meant for lyric writing or choreography formation, but now it was being doubled as a folder for travel brochures.

Luckily, most of the travel guides still focused on Yuso and there were a few pamphlets on sailing. But something else caught the member’s eyes. On the page were all the brochures were still poking out were a bunch of names that weren’t familiar to Vice.

“Wait, that says Oh Eunjoo.” Kane pointed, recognizing the name of the crazed psychic they met yesterday.

“That’s my name.” The waitress frowned. She had returned with their meals, but her attention was now on the book in front of them. “I’m Lee Seunghee. Sixth name from the bottom. And below that… Kim Taewoo, that’s the owner.” “Why is he keeping a list of names?” Woodie asked aloud. No one had an answer.

“Well… Enjoy you meals!” Seunghee gave a weak smile. She dashed away, clearly put off by the fact that a random man had written her name down in a book.

“Seokyu… what the fuck is going on inside that head.” Ji shook his head, a dry chuckle escaping his lips.

Kane observed the notes one more time. “Well, at least we know we’re on the right track with Yuso, right?” “Yeah. I hope so.” Minho nodded, although he seemed a little unsure. The leader picked up his chopsticks, gesturing to everyone around him. “Eat up, you don’t want your food to get cold.”

[claihn]

Impulse

[[ Warning: Bugs. Violence. Language. ]] 

“So... you're not mad?”   Two shadows flickered against the wooden wall opposite from twin flickering candles. The lights rested upon a table nestled against a window frame and a blanket of stars twinkled behind the glass. The familiar scent of the ocean, leather and spice blanketed Kini like an old shawl that threatened to tempt her into relaxation. This was a quiet place that was absent of confusion, muddling ideas and loud voices. “No,” A'khato rumbled. His large, calloused hands navigated a roll of bandages with meticulous precision around his sister's fingers. Her other arm was already fully wrapped with snug support that covered the entirety of her hands all the way up to her elbows. She winced when he brought a cloth, saturated in pungent minty mix, and wiped at some of the blistered lacerations. The area was then patted dry before he went to work again, little by little bandaging up her injuries. “Why?”  Kini couldn't help but whisper, biting her lower lip. Her watery blue eyes surveyed his stern features, noting how there was an edge to his expression, but it was distant. Almost satisfied. His medium-length, wild cut locks of ebony hair were tousled in various directions and the charcoal paint on his cheek was smudged to the side. His motions paused and his lips pursed at her question, until he dragged his gaze up at her with a flicker of annoyance.  Kini winced an apologetic smile and ducked her head with ears flattening sideways. Oops. “You've always been impulsive. Do better next time. This mistake could've made you useless, and don't let it slow down your work.” He reprimanded her, although his words were flat and bored sounding. He went back to navigating the bandages. The silence between them grew palpable, as was the knowledge that both siblings knew the question was unanswered. He'd given a response, of course. Yet just as A'khato could read Kini with little trouble, so could she pick up on his tells. He was calm, but he was too focused on simple motions. His tail was actively twitching back and forth.   What aren't you telling me? She knew better than to prod an agitated King. At least this time.

She had her back pressed against the warm, stoned wall of the hallway. He smelled like ale and herbs, especially as he crowded his body against hers. Pudgy, greedy hands wandered over her frame and Kini could feel his breath against her right ear. It made her flinch and she'd asked him politely to leave that side alone, but for some reason people always mistook her. Clearly she trembled because she enjoyed it. She flinched because it was sensitive. She was just playing coy.  I hate it. Her eyes were glancing past him though, and instead she absently nodded at the words he was mumbling. Something about smells and fancy clothes. It was hard to hear when he was mouth breathing against her right side instead of her left. She found herself focusing on the light beneath the crack of the doorway that led into the living room. Kini could faintly hear the deep, baritone voice of her brother along with a higher, barked voice of the woman he was meeting with. This was a job that her brother had asked her to come along as a temptation. Almost like old times, except now he thought she should be better as a “professional” distraction. Kini didn't mind. It gave her a flutter of happiness to be of use on one of his missions, even if it was a boring one without any fighting. Those were always her favorite. She enjoyed using her magic to assist him, while he killed anything that stood in his way. He was a force of nature. A force of nature that sometimes she was lucky enough to protec-no. Assist. Behold. Adore. “Fucking distracted?!” The man hissed as he gripped the top of her shoulder and gave her a shake. Kini's eyes snapped back to attention to flash him a delicate, apologetic wince. “S-sorry! I just thought I heard something. You seem very nice.” She bumbled out the words, although the stuffy man sneered in response. His fingers dug a little more into her skin, while the other scrunched up the airy, cotton fabric of her skirt and began to roughly yank at it. Once, twice and then the sound of tearing along with the painful stretch of the opposite side cutting into her skin announced the gaining success of his goal.   “Even dressed up all fancy, guess you're still just a novice whore, huh? That's fine. You're gonna be here a loooong time. Plenty of suns, moons to train you to be a real slut.”  His eyes glittered darkly and Kini felt a lump rise in her throat, even more than his pressing weight.   “N-no. I'm j-just here as my brother's assistant. When he's done, I have to leave too. I already have a jo-” Her words were cut off by a barking laugh from the man. His greasy fingers on her shoulders instead moved to her neck and he leaned into the motion. Kini acted on instinct and drew in a quick, squelched gasp before a pressured strain began to build in her face from the lack of air. “Stupid kitten. Your brother is going to die here tonight. All this is just a wasted effort and he just brought a little prize for our game. So jus-” 

The man was still talking, but the rest of his words drizzled away. Perhaps it was the frantic pounding of her heart or the pressure in her ears. Your brother is going to die. Why was it always her brother? A furrowed brow from a stranger. A clatter of knives. A bite to the neck. Desperation. Panic. A murmur of disapproval. Warm, questioning words between sips of honey-mead. Isolation. A threatened hand. I need him. My savior. My King. Don't take him away from me. Don't take him away from me. Don'ttakehimawayfromme! DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HIM. Kini's eyes widened as they locked onto the man, but there was no flicker of fear. There was a heavy pause of staring into the eyes like an unhinged doll before silvery blue light spilled from her pupils to engulf her vision. She grabbed the man's arms, nails digging like a vice with a false sense of strength. The warm, pleasant air of the room plummeted like a stone and the man felt an annoying, tiny bite upon his wrist. Then another upon his elbow. Two near his hands. Two became four, four became twenty, twenty became a hundred and the biting pinpricks rapidly dominated his body. Kini stared blankly at him, ignoring the growing chill of his body as rime formed upon her own arms, harmlessly blossoming here or there upon the man's own bulbous form. He, however, stared in horror as skittering, chittering bugs of all shapes and sizes burrowed their way out of his skin. They tore through muscle, wriggling and bulging just underneath flesh. Thousands of legs tickled at every inch of him, both inside and out. They filled his lungs. They consumed his tongue. They crawled over his eyes and churned in his stomach. The man screamed, threw Kini to the side and fled to the door. He battered against it once, twice and three times before he broke his nose but managed to get it open.   A'khato and the woman inside both started from where they sat across from each other at a dining table. The man barely made through the entrance before he collapsed on the floor, spasming and spittling at the mouth. His scream was silent, skin sickly but otherwise alive even if he looked blankly to the side from his new slobbering spot upon the floor. No bugs. No blood. Only flecks of inconsequential ice. 

Kini's eyes had returned to normal and she staggered through the doorway, leaning against the frame. Her face was blanched, breath heavy and her partially rimed arms hung loosely at her sides with spidery, dark bruises along their lengths to compliment the smattering of bleeding blisters.  Yet her expression was cold and unflinching. The collapsed piece of garbage went completely ignored in favor of looking to her brother, voice deadpan. “A'khato, they're trash.”

“Do you want me to be mad at you?”  A'khato's voice broke the silence when he finished bandaging her arms. He peered up at her, searching. Kini quickly shook her head. She noticed the yellow, gold and black bracelet that he wore around his wrist. The ribbons had been carefully braided until they were thickly corded with a flat, obsidian gem nestled in the center.  She closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath and made a show of wiggling her fingers with a wince. “G-good as new!” He rolled his eyes and rose from his seat, gesturing to the bed. “Rest here. When you leave tomorrow, don't be stupid and bother with your bag. You can get it another time.” A'khato sighed, rubbed the back of his neck and stretched languidly a moment after. His footsteps carried him to the doorway where he paused and glanced over his shoulder back at his sister. Golden eyes narrowed into slits and a sinuous growl formed into words. “Don't do that ever again.” He left. A muffled clatter of plates announced his location in the kitchen a few minutes later. She ducked her head and found toes wiggling to jingle the bell attached to her thin anklet. He hadn't waited for the answer, but she was grateful for the mercy.  They both knew it was an empty promise to make, but even so- Kini couldn't help but capture a sliver of happiness from it. 

[misssophiachase]

Yay prompts! How about, KC + exes who get set up on a blind date by a mutual friend who has no idea they know each other.

Love this prompt anon! Completely inspired. It’s a bit different but I hope you like it : ) Also, it got longer than expected hence why it took so long!

Caroline Forbes has agreed to play pretend girlfriend at a wedding for best friend Enzo not expecting her past to make an unexpected return. Klaus Mikaelson thought he’d never see her again until fate decides to bring all of his unresolved feelings back.

In My Life

Heathrow Airport, 23:34

“If I’d known how badly you travel, I might have rescinded the invitation,” Enzo offered. Before he could continue he felt the blunt force from the pillow she insisted on carrying from JFK to Heathrow. “Ouch, Forbes.”

“It so didn’t hurt but you deserve it,” she shot back, pulling her pillow away. “And last time I checked I was the one doing you a favour by coming to this wedding as your ‘date,’ Lorenzo,” she drawled, using air quotes to emphasise her point.

“Fine,” he conceded, gesturing to the passport checkpoint ahead. “I just wasn’t expecting such an interesting flight.”

“I hate time changes, heights, small spaces and food served on trays, I warned you about this before take-off.”

“Like five minutes before,” he grumbled before facing her menacing pillow again. “Fine, I’m sorry. You are doing me a favour and for that, I will be eternally grateful.”

“You’ve never told me anything about this girl you’re trying to make jealous or even whose wedding this is. Oh god I can’t believe I’m just putting this together, she isn’t the Bride, we’re not breaking up a wedding, right? Just so you know, I didn’t sign up for that.”

Caroline Forbes didn’t usually ramble this much but she didn’t much like to play pretend either, in fact, she avoided it at all costs. One because she wasn’t the best liar and two it reminded her too much of her past with a certain English guy who plagued her thoughts constantly even after all these years. But when her best friend and fellow legal colleague Enzo St John had pleaded for help she couldn’t say no.

Well, that and the fact he’d paid her way to London and promised her free coffee and donuts forever. Caroline didn’t have the heart to tell him that caffeine and sugar weren’t the only motivators she loved a good mystery and this trip was payment enough if she discovered his deep, dark secret. Enzo had always been so cagey about his love life and Caroline was certain this girl was the reason why.

“We’re not breaking up a wedding, darling and you don’t need to know the details,” he offered, flashing his passport at the guard.

“You realise I’m the queen of details, right?” She baulked, handing over her passport and wishing she had a better picture. “And I won’t stop until I drag them out of you, St John.”

“I can’t wait,” he drawled. “But after we get your seven pieces of luggage. I can only use so much effort at once.” Caroline rolled her eyes knowing his delaying tactics would only get him so far even if his luggage count was correct.

Mayfair, 6:19

“Why aren’t you bringing a date, Niklaus?” Kol enquired. “Last time I checked you had more phone numbers than…”

“Don’t bother finishing that sentence,” he growled, crossing the room and grabbing his tie from his brother’s greedy grasp. Yes, Klaus Mikaelson had more conquests and phone numbers than he could count but he didn’t like talking about it. “And why are you bothering me so early? Don’t you have a long-suffering wife to please?”

It was a joke of course; photographer Bonnie Bennett was the best thing to happen to his younger brother. He might have been an accomplished aerospace engineer but his incessant meddling was second to none.

“Well, if you must know, Bonnie is away on assignment for National Geographic until tomorrow and…”

“You have nothing better to do than hound me about my love life?”

“Your non-existent love life don’t you mean?” He teased, flashing his pearly whites in the process.

“I have a social life, Kol,” he reiterated. “It doesn’t need to include love, that only gets you into trouble.” For once in his life, Kol quietened briefly allowing Klaus to gather his thoughts.

Yes, he had a social life which kept him satisfied to a certain point. It was all he could manage when she was still front and centre in his thoughts even ten years later.

“So, if I told you Elijah has a date…”

“Get out,” he ordered. Kol left, albeit slowly, but Klaus couldn’t miss the mischievous grin on his brother’s lips before he did.

He scrolled through his phone urgently knowing he wasn’t going to be outdone by his older, stuffy sibling.

Covent Garden, 20:39

“You realise not telling me the details is only going to make this supposed relationship hard to believe,” Caroline offered, checking out her appearance in the cab’s rearview mirror. She’d decided the red Prada was her best bet jealousy wise but Enzo had been far too silent on the details and it was wearing on her last nerve.

“It will be fine,” he grumbled, passing a handful of pounds to the driver before exiting the vehicle.

“It won’t be,” Caroline hissed, noting his dark expression. “I’m not going in there until you tell me the truth.” He faltered, his mouth twitching slightly. “All of it, Enzo.”

“The Maid of Honour, her name is Rebekah,” he sighed.

“And?”

“She broke my heart,” he murmured, suddenly finding the snow-covered ground interesting. “Although I’m not really sure she even cared so that’s why I need a date so she knows I don’t care either.” By his sudden mood change, she was pretty certain he did care not that she was going to relay that observation aloud.

Caroline immediately felt bad for pushing him, placing her arm around him protectively and simultaneously wishing she’d worn a coat to ward of the chill. “I’m sorry, but we all know she’s the one missing out and I mean that from a totally platonic viewpoint.”

“Well, I’d be offended but we all know nobody could compete with your dream guy, Forbes,” he argued.

“I have no idea…”

“Now who’s in denial?” Enzo interrupted, pulling them towards the entrance. She’d told him once when they were drunk about the mystery guy who’d stolen her heart and he’d never let her forget it since.

“This place is not what I expected for the welcome celebrations given their wealthy pedigrees,” Caroline noted as they entered the historic Lamb and Flag Hotel.

“Charles Dickens frequented the Lamb and Flag, the bride-to-be is a journalist and the groom a novelist. Besides those coincidences, turns out this was where they first met.”

“Wow, it all sounds extremely poetic.”

“Apparently so. Shall we?” He asked, lacing his arm through hers. Caroline knew she couldn’t refuse him given just how far they’d come in their act, there was no turning back now.

20:59

Klaus grabbed the beer greedily, glad to have something to take his mind off the party momentarily. Not that he wasn’t happy for his sister and her soon-to-be husband but the date he’d hurriedly invited was smothering him.

He’d met Hayley a few months earlier and Klaus had realised that her overly friendly tendencies hadn’t abated in that time. He was cursing himself inwardly for choosing her but decided to blame it on his eldest brother who was suddenly joined at the hip with his investment firm’s publicist Katherine Pierce.

That wasn’t a real date it was all just a ridiculous ploy by his family to make him defrost. That hadn’t happened for a long time and Klaus wasn’t sure it ever would. She still appeared in his dreams. They were filled with intersecting snippets of golden waves, blue eyes and that knowing smile.

“Niklaus.”

“Katherine, really brother? That’s not a date, it’s a business arrangement.”

“I’d be offended if it didn’t come from you,” the brunette chided, joining his brother.

“You two, really?”

“If you hadn’t been so focused on work you would have realised,” Elijah noted, his arm tightening around Katherine’s waist affectionately.

“And here I was thinking you were asexual,” he joked, noting Katherine’s outraged stare.

“I’ll have you know that last night Elijah came three times and….”

“As much as I want to hear the rest of that sentence,” Klaus growled, “actually I take that back, I don’t want to know anything.”

“And my work here is done,” Katherine grinned, before stalking a nearby waiter for some champagne.

“I’m going to have to put up with that every Christmas now, right?” He asked. Klaus liked to pretend he hated Katherine and vice versa but they were more alike than ever and she was already unofficially part of the Mikaelson family.

“I think she’s the least of your worries,” he murmured, pointing downstairs. His eyes darted to the newest arrival and suddenly Klaus felt like he couldn’t breathe his chest was that constricted.

“Why?” He managed to bite out.

“Maybe you need to ask your mate Enzo,” Elijah offered.

21:09

“Why do I feel like everyone is staring at us?” Caroline asked, looking around the crowded bar ominously.

“Not to burst your bubble, darling, but I think they’re looking at yours truly,” he quipped. “I have a bit of a reputation in these parts.”

“Like being a smug son-of-a-bitch, St John?” The imposing but beautiful blonde was upon them before they could react.

“Rebekah?” Caroline asked, not realising that Enzo had asked the same question. Rebekah Mikaelson had been her closest friend when she lived in England, unfortunately, they’d lost touch when she returned to the States.

“Right on both counts,” she shot back tersely. There was no welcome smile, in fact, there wasn’t anything good to come from her greeting. “I didn’t realise that you two were…”

“We’re n…” Caroline began before Enzo interrupted.

“A couple yes,” he confirmed placing his arm around her. Caroline wanted to crawl into a corner given the way Rebekah’s penetrating gaze was boring holes into her. “Caroline and I.”

“Don’t you mean, me and Caroline?”

“I see you still do that annoying thing where you correct people’s grammar,”

“And I don’t have all night to list the annoying things you do,” she hissed. “Excuse me.”

Caroline wanted to go after Rebekah and tell her it was a big misunderstanding but Enzo’s grip on her was tighter than ever. “Enzo.”

“I panicked okay,” he admitted, glancing across the room at a burley brunette. “It doesn’t help that Alexander is here.”

“Alexander?”

“The guy she chose over me, it’s like taking a bullet to the chest again.”

“Explains that drama major you took,” she teased, attempting to lighten the situation. “Look, you don’t even know if they’re still together.”

“Do you touch a friend’s ass like that?” He gestured to them together at the bar. “Anyway back to the matter at hand, how do you know Rebekah Mikaelson?”

Of course, she knew her, she knew the whole family given how welcoming they’d been during her time in England. “From my high school exchange.”

“Why didn’t you tell me it was the Mikaelsons you stayed with?”

“I didn’t think it was relevant given I met you eight years later. How do you know them?”

“I studied with Klaus at Oxford he was my roommate for six years.”

“Well, this isn’t awkward at all,” she murmured.

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t forge ahead with the plan still. I mean it isn’t like you had any relations with her siblings, right?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Please tell me it was Kol or Elijah.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Caroline! Just great. I’m pretty sure Klaus Mikaelson is going to kill me and I mean dead, I’ve seen enough of that temper to last a lifetime.”

“Look, as much as I want to help you I feel bad lying to Rebekah.” It was at that moment his comment hit her. “Hang on, you’re joking about the killing part, right? If Rebekah’s here it doesn’t mean Klaus is right?”

Suddenly Caroline felt sick. She’d imagined their reunion a thousand times in her dreams but a surprise attack wasn’t one of those scenarios.

“His sister Freya is the one getting married to Lucien Castle so I think it’s highly possible you’ll run into him and then he’ll kill me. What exactly happened between you two?”

“Funny story actually.”

“I’d love to hear your version of events, love,” a familiar voice interrupted. She felt a shiver course through her body cursing inwardly that he still had the same effect on her. And why did he have to look so damn good in a suit?

“It’s time for the speeches,” Rebekah announced, glancing wearily in their direction.

“Saved by the bell,” Enzo whispered in her ear.

“Caroline, Enzo I look forward to picking up where we left of from afterwards,” Klaus offered with a slight nod in their direction. “I have best man duties to attend to.”

“I spoke too soon, it’s more like a stay of execution,” he mumbled as the room broke out in applause.

22:13

She was there one minute during the speeches and the next she was gone. Klaus attempted to contain his composure but had been searching the place for a good twenty minutes without much luck.

“Looking for someone?”

“I thought my best mate might have told me he was dating someone new,” Klaus offered, not bothering to hide his jealousy. When he’d seen Caroline in person and looking so beautiful it had floored him but finding her with Enzo was more painful than he’d imagined. All those years of regret for not chasing after her flooding back.

“Someone it turns out you know well.”

“Maybe ten years ago.”

“But yet you seem jealous, mate,” he observed. “Something you’re not telling me?”

“I don’t think it’s entirely appropriate to discuss my feelings for my ex-girlfriend with her current boyfriend, do you Enzo?”

“We’re not together, Klaus,” he admitted his sheepish expression enough to tell him that Enzo was telling the truth.

“But I saw you with your arm around her and Rebekah told me you were together and has been venting to me ever since.”

“Venting? Really?”

“Oh please don’t tell me you were trying to make my sister jealous, Enzo. Haven’t we evolved past these childish games since University?”

“That was only once and she deserved it,” he argued as Klaus raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Fine, I acted immaturely but your sister brings it out in me and after she chose Alexander all those years ago I couldn’t show up without a date.”

“It was always you, you bloody idiot,” Klaus chided. “But you left the UK before she could realise that.”

“But her and Alexander…”

“It seems like you and she had the same fake relationship idea,” he drawled. “You deserve each other, mate.”

“And you and Caroline?”

“Well, we did start out our relationship pretending we were together to make Camille O'Connell jealous.”

“Sounds like you two deserve each other too,” Enzo smiled. “She’s standing out the front without a jacket and pretending she’s not cold. You know if that’s who you were looking for.”

Klaus merely nodded, knowing what he had to do.

22:27

“Enzo, I told you I don’t need a jacket,” she groaned as he slipped it across her shoulders.

“Nothing’s changed I see, still as obstinate as ever, sweetheart,” Klaus chuckled knowingly.

“I learnt it from you,” she shot back, a slight smile tugging at her lips.

“Touche,” he laughed. “You know, I’ve spent the last ten years missing you most days, but I didn’t realise just how much until you walked into my country and back into my life.”

“On the arm of your best friend you mean?”

“An intense ripple of jealousy may have played a part,” he conceded. “Why did we think it was a good idea to end things so abruptly?” He asked, taking a seat nearby and gesturing for her to join him.

“You were headed to Oxford and me to Harvard,” she sighed. “We had our plans and staying together was just too difficult a prospect, Klaus.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Sometimes,” she shared, “but I wouldn’t be on the path to junior partner at my firm. We were always so passionate about our future careers and given your rise up through the CEO ranks I think you’d say the same.”

“True,” he agreed before realising what she’d said. “You been spying on me, Forbes?”

“Maybe,” she admitted. “Page six seemed to have featured you prominently over the years.”

“Says the girl who is all but engaged to a Kennedy but turns up here with my best mate.” She didn’t respond just rolled her eyes at the false reports about her and Tyler. “Ah, you have to love all that unsubstantiated gossip.”

“Seems like we’ve spent a lot of time checking up on each other.”

“It does,” he murmured, turning to face her, his expression earnest. “Maybe it’s time we stop living through the tabloids and…”

“And?” She murmured, moving closer so his arms could encircle her waist.

“Make up for ten years of lost time,” his nose was now grazing hers, the cold air long forgot. “I never stopped loving you, Caroline. Not for one second.”

“Me too,” she sighed, her hands running through his dark blonde curls. “Shut up and kiss me, Mikaelson.”

“Yes ma'am,” he chuckled before greedily capturing her lips with his. Suddenly it seemed as if time had stood still and they were the same teenagers who’d fallen in love all those years ago.