#where anything could go many different ways and im open to the many possibilities things might turn out to be

[kvroomi]

the twelve days of christmas (kuroo’s ver)

summary: the twelve days leading up to christmas with kuroo and the different ways he shows you his love each time.

listening to: anything - adrienne lenker

tags: kuroo x fem!reader, domestic fluff, minor swearing, reader’s first language is english, reader has hair

author note: IM SO LATE I KNOW, but a massive late merry christmas to all who celebrate! hoping everyone is doing well these winter or summer holidays and spending time with/doing who/what you all love the most. wishing everyone well into this coming new year! may 2025 bring you wealth and good health ❤️‍🩹

i giggled to myself too many times while writing this it’s embarrassing i seriously think this is the cutest thing i’ve ever posted. also just wanted to share that the second i started writing for the final day (day 12), it turned 11:11 and i think that’s a sign

on the first day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—a single christmas ornament personalised with your initials. his fingers held the small box in a way that was both cautious and arrogant—a perfect portrayal of his well-known charm. his frame leaned against the doorway to your apartment, his cheeks flushed from the december cold and the faintest smirk decorating his lips.

you were seated on the couch, your hands curled around a mug of tea. though you loved winter, it just happened to be one of those evenings where the world outside felt grey and cold. you supposed your long day was partly to blame, though you’d almost immediately forgotten about it the second you stepped inside, because there he was; he who was always warm and always golden.

“on the first day of christmas,” he began dramatically, “your loving boyfriend gifted to thee…” trailing off, he held the box aloft like it was the climax of some grand performance.

you raised an eyebrow, unimpressed though very amused. “is it socks? please tell me it’s socks. i feel like i’ve been dropping very unsubtle hints.”

your own interest had piqued just from your rambles alone, your mind unconsciously racking through endless possibilities of what could be in the box. now your body has shifted from casually leaned up on the back of the couch to sitting at the edge, eager to find out what gift awaited you.

“socks?” kuroo scoffed, shutting the door behind him with his foot. “do i look like the kind of guy who gives socks on day one? socks are at least day four material.”

“ah, my mistake.” you purse your lips in apology before taking a sip of your tea and watching as he sat beside you, his knee brushing against yours.

“wait, hold on.there’s more gifts coming?” you whipped your head towards his in realisation.

kuroo smelled faintly of pine. whether from a nearby tree lot or just because he insisted on using a “woodsy” cologne, you couldn’t tell. he simply shrugged sheepishly in response and you gave a wearisome huff.

“alright well… go on then, magician. what’s in the box?”

with a theatrical wave, kuroo opened the lid. inside was a single christmas ornament: shiny and delicate, etched with your initials in exquisite gold lettering. it caught the dim light of your living room and scattered it like tiny stars.

you stared at it for a moment, caught off guard by how sweet it was—intimate, even. it wasn’t that kuroo was incapable of romance. he was, in his own teasing way… but this felt different. it felt a lot more thoughtful.

“an ornament,” you said finally, reaching out to touch it. “wow... this is… weirdly adorable. are you feeling okay?”

“don’t ruin it,” he hushed pretending to be offended, though you could see the corners of his mouth twitching. “i thought we’d start a tradition. every year, one new ornament. you know, build up a collection. by the time we’re old and grey, we’ll have a whole tree full of memories. romantic, right?” he winked playfully.

you blinked, caught between laughter and something warmer and deeper. “that’s actually—wow. that’s disgustingly sweet, tetsu.”

“i’m just full of surprises, babe.” his hand dipped gently into the box and handed you the ornament, fingers lingering against yours. “just don’t get too used to it because tomorrow’s gift is going to be hilariously impractical.”

you turned the ornament over in your hand, the gold initials shining faintly. “okay… i just can’t get over how my initials are way prettier than yours? if this tradition continues, i fear we might need to just skip out on an ornament with your name so the tree stays pretty.”

“pffft, it’s not my fault you’ve got better branding,” he grinned as he draped an arm over your shoulder. “if it makes you feel better, next year i’ll go full kuroo—big and bold. i’m thinking something shiny and impossible to ignore. perhaps an ornament shaped like my face instead?”

you laughed, leaning into him. “i’d hang it front and center, right where everyone could see it.”

his smile softened. “great. that’s where i’d want it to be.”

you stayed like that for a while, his hand tracing slow circles on your shoulder. outside, the world was cold and distant, but thanks to kuroo, it felt like the season itself was bright, and full of beginnings.

on the second day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—two matching christmas mugs lined with photos from your recent photobooth trip. kuroo lied yesterday when he said today’s gift was going to be “hilariously impractical” but he wouldn’t tell you until you found out yourself. the box was suspiciously light when he handed it to you, his grin giving away both everything and nothing at all. he’d ambushed you in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you prepped your nightly tea with a knowing look.

it was day two of his so-called “twelve days of christmas” series, and if yesterday’s ornament hadn’t been both weirdly heartwarming, you might have been more cautious. but this was kuroo—the fun was in the gamble.

“i know you’re dying to see what’s inside,” he urged, the teasing lilt in his voice as familiar as his cologne. “guess. it’s the perfect gift for someone like you.”

“someone like me?” you narrowed your eyes, glancing between him and the box. “what’s that supposed to mean? should i be insulted?”

he placed his chin between his index finger and thumb, thoughtfully. “hmmm… insulted, no. concerned, maybe. thrilled? definitely.”

you scowled at him before turning to open the box slowly, drawing it out just to see him fidget. inside was a white mug—unassuming, plain, even. too plain for kuroo. you turned to him, mug in one hand and the other on your hip.

“wow,” you deadpanned. “a mug. revolutionary. thank you tetsuro for single-handedly redefining the art of gift giving.”

“ah-ah.” he wagged a finger in front of your face, grabbing the mug before you could set it down along with the other mugs in your extensive collection. “this isn’t just a mug. this is a magic mug.”

you blinked. once. twice. and three times before stuttering out a “sorry?”

he sauntered to the kettle, pouring hot water into the cup with the flair of a magician revealing the final act. you watched almost agonisingly slowly, as the heat spread and the surface began to change. the once white mug was now fading to colour. your breath hitched as the image emerged: a photo from your last impulsive photo booth trip.

there you were, mid-laugh with your face tilted toward his. his grin was wide and toothy, hand half-raised as if mid-gesture. the next frame showed your cheeks puffed in anger, while kuroo looked genuinely alarmed with one hand outstretched as if apologizing. and the cherry on top of the final frame? pure love—his chin buried in your shoulder with your hands on either side of his cheeks, squishing his face into something utterly ridiculous.

you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, warm and unfiltered. “oh my god, this is what you chose?”

“what can i say?” he pushed himself back against the counter, watching your reaction with a soft sort of pride. “i’m a sucker for authenticity and you look adorable in that last one.”

“adorable?!” another laugh bubbled from you as you gestured wildly at the cup, now fully transformed. “i look like i’m wrestling you into submission!”

“exactly,” he uttered, completely serious. “it’s very ‘us.’”

half-exasperated, half-melting under the sheer absurdity of it all, you replied. “i’m going to use this in every meeting i have. i’ll be sipping from this in front of clients and coworkers.”

he grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “perfect. let the world know you’re stuck with me.”

cue the classic eye roll. the warmth in his voice, the way he let his fingers trace lazy patterns on your arm—it disarmed you, as it always did.

“well,” you pressed a kiss to his jaw, “i guuuueeeesss i do need a mug for tea.”

“that’s the spirit.” he picked up his own matching mug, the photo identical but reversed. “and now, when we’re apart, you can look at me squished like a pancake and remember how much you love me.”

for the third time, you couldn’t help but laugh again, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “you’re ridiculous.”

his voice dipped low as he kissed your temple, “here you are loving me anyway.”

and he was right. of course he was right.

on the third day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—three of his favourite, special, christmas recipes. he arrived at your door with a snow-dusted grin and a peculiar sort of confidence—though that was nothing out of the blue. he held a single envelope; it was a little worn around the edges, with your name scribbled across the front in his messy, self-assured handwriting. no grand box like the past two days, no wrapping paper, and no telltale jingles of something extravagant. all that was held between his fingers was the envelope.

“is this a love letter?” you asked, pulling him inside by the sleeve of his coat to stop the cold from clinging to his cheeks. his cheeks were a warm shade of pink and had you had stared at them any longer than you already had, you would’ve kept him outside just so you could stare at how soft he looked for even longer. “because i gotta say, day three seems a little early for declarations of undying devotion.”

“ha ha, not a love letter,” he responded sarcastically, toeing off his boots and shrugging out of his coat. he stood in the middle of your walkway with his hands on his hips, watching you with that unshakable kuroo observation. “though if you want one i could probably draft something up. i’d write about your eyes, your laugh, and the way you snore when you’re—”

a single flick to his forehead to stop him before he could finish, and he lets out a laugh, all mischief and charm.

“okaaay, what’s in the envelope, then?” you asked, shaking it lightly as you moved toward the kitchen. naturally, kuroo followed like he belonged in your space.

“three gifts in one,” he announces, tapping the counter. “an entrée, a main course, and a dessert—recipes straight from the kuroo tetsuro vault of holiday magic.”

you nodded, taking in what he said and ending it with a shrug. “the kuroo tetsuro vault of holiday magic? huh, sounds legit.”

“oh, it’s legit,” kuroo leaned in slightly, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “these are the recipes that made my grandma call me her favourite. this—” he jabs at the envelope in your hand before continuing, “—holds recipes my teammates still beg me to make whenever i’m back home. they’re recipes that are, dare i say, iconic.”

you opened the envelope, pulling out three sheets of paper each written in his handwriting, complete with small drawings in the margins.

as your fingers traced the edges of the paper, the room shifted. the glow of the kitchen lights softened, the air thick with something quiet and familiar. you’d awaited a playful gesture—a joke gift wrapped in kuroo’s usual brand of teasing. perhaps something loud and irreverent to match the way he filled a room, but this? this was different.

the ink on the pages flowed sweetly from one side to the other—slightly smudged in places. you knew it spoke of hours spent leaning over a counter, a pen in his hand and you in his mind. each word carried a history with memories of family kitchens—laughter echoing through the years, a tradition he was choosing to share with you. it was so intimate in a way that pressed against the deepest crevices of your heart, unexpected and unspoken. it was like being handed the key to a door you hadn’t realized you’d been standing in front of.

all you could do was glance up at him, your voice caught somewhere between a laugh and a breath you hadn’t yet let go. “this feels… so personal,” was all you could squeeze out, quieter than you meant to.

kuroo who was against the counter, watched with an expression that was almost unreadable, his usual smirk replaced with a smile. “it is,” was all he said, and the weight of those words settled over you like snow on the branches outside.

it wasn’t just recipes. it wasn’t just a gift. it was a glimpse into the places he didn’t offer easily to the world—the spaces he reserved for family, for love, for you. the realisation unfurled slowly like the first bloom of warmth on a winter morning.

“hey,” he murmured whilst stepping closer, his hand brushing against yours as he gently laid the pages down onto the kitchen counter. “don’t overthink it. i just wanted to give you something real. something that… feels like home.”

you glanced down at the pages. the first was for an appetizer: roasted chestnut and butternut squash soup. there were notes about how the squash needed to be caramelised just right, along with a drawing of a smiling chestnut wearing a christmas hat.

the second was the main dish: honey-glazed ham with a cranberry-orange reduction. beneath the instructions he’d written, ‘if this doesn’t make you swoon, i’m giving up on holidays forever.’

the third was dessert, of course. written in black ink was his family’s secret recipe for gingerbread cookies with notes on how to make them crispy on the edges but soft in the middle. there was a poorly sketched gingerbread man doing a backflip in the corner.

“tetsuro,” you whispered reading through them, the thoughtfulness sinking in. “these are actually amazing.”

“of course they are,” he responds, moving to stand behind you with his chin resting on your shoulder as he peered at the recipes. “but they’re not just recipes. they’re invitations.”

“invitations?”

he tilted his head slightly, his hair brushing against your cheek. “to make them. together. think of it as a bonding exercise. or a relationship test. can we survive one kitchen, one oven, and three recipes without a holiday meltdown? high stakes, i know.”

now you really couldn’t hold back the laugh. folding the papers back into the envelope you continued, “so, what happens if we pass this ‘test’? what’s the reward?”

he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, his voice warm and teasing. “you get to keep me, obviously. and maybe some awesome leftovers.”

you turn to face him, envelope in hand. your chest settles with the same feeling of warmth that had nothing to do with the kitchen. “you know,” you lean in slightly, “for a guy who smuggles his personality in through bad puns and bad jokes, you’re actually kind of romantic.”

“kind of?” he echoed, feigning offense. “i just handed you the culinary equivalent of my heart, and i get “kind of” romantic?”

you kissed him, cutting off his fake tirade. your hands find their way to his collar and when you pulled back, his grin was smug but softer, like he’d just won something only the two of you could understand.

“now, which recipe do we ruin first?”

on the fourth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—four candles, each paired with a scent from a particular memory you had through every season that year. the snow on his shoes had melted into slush by the time kuroo had arrived home from work, boots squeaking on the wooden floors as he entered your apartment. dropping his scarf onto your chair and his coat on another, he finally let himself fall on the armrest of your couch. low and behold, balancing on his leg was yet another box, significantly larger that the past two he had gifted you already.

“are you here to redecorate or ruin our furniture?” you asked, looking up from your laptop as you glared at the wet spots forming around your couch.

“i bring gifts,” he announced proudly like a dramatic oracle. “four of them, actually. one for every season.”

you hummed. “wait! let me guess, a pinecone for winter, a seashell for summer, a pile of wet leaves for autumn—”

“wow. you really have not been giving me any credit, even after yesterday’s absolute banger of a gift!” kuroo interrupted while you snorted next to him, watching as he scooted closer to you on the couch and handed you the box. “this, my love, is the culmination of hours of research, consideration, and—you’ll be surprised to hear—minimal swearing.”

you sat up intrigued, raising an eyebrow and peeled the lid off. nestled inside were four candles, each carefully labeled with a card on top in his handwriting which had looked like it had been scrawled by a caffeinated bird—you found it so endearing

“spring: cherry blossoms and rain-soaked pavement,” you read aloud, pulling the first candle out.

“‘cause of the park!” kuroo winked at you, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “y’know, when we tried to have a picnic but you spent half the time yelling at me to stop stepping in the puddles?”

“tried is the keyword there,” you retorted wittily, though your lips curved into a frown at the memory. “and you splashed mud on my shoes.”

“you mean i decorated your shoes,” he shot back without missing a beat.

the summer candle came next, and the scent of salty air and something faintly fruity filled your nostrils. you froze.

“the beach,” it was such a distinct memory for both you and kuroo, “the one with the frisbee game…”

“where i heroically rescued it from that evil seagull,” he finished, and when you looked up towards him, his grin was unapologetic.

“you ate shit running away afterwards.”

“unnecessary details, babe,” he shook his head, waving a dismissive hand.

autumn smelled like spiced cider and faint traces of smoke, the memory wrapped around you like a worn flannel—cool nights, warm hands, and kuroo pointing at the sky with wild confidence as he made up constellations.

“that one’s kuroo’s cluster,” he’d sleepily said that night, pointing to a random spot in the sky. “because it looks like it forgot what it was doing halfway through.”

that candle earned a spot on the coffee table.

finally, winter. the label read ‘evergreen and vanilla latte’ and as soon as the wick was lit, the room was filled with something achingly familiar. the scent of him—of mornings spent curled up together with his laughter spilling into your coffee like the easiest thing in the world.

you didn’t speak for a moment; you didn’t trust your voice. instead, you reached for the winter candle again, holding it like it might explain something to you if you focused hard enough.

“i thought they might be nice to have around,” kuroo added, his tone quieter now as he watched you with that expression he wore when he thought you weren’t paying attention. “like, if i’m not here or something. you’d still… have the moments. or the scents. or—okay, i’m bad at explaining this.”

“you’re not,” this time you were the one to interrupt him—though your voice betrayed you, cracking slightly at the edges.

his grin usual returned, soft and crooked. “you’re not gonna cry, are you? i don’t have tissues on me.”

you snorted, swiping at your eyes before any tears could fall. “i’m just impressed. you managed to make yet another gift that’s thoughtful and functional. what’s next? a calendar with all the dates we’ve argued circled in red?”

“now there’s an idea,” he laughed—big, loud, and very kuroo. resting an arm along the back of the couch, he sighs. “but that’s for next year. for now, you just get the candles. and me, obviously.”

“ how lucky i am,” you mocked, though when he leaned closer, his forehead brushing against yours, the words fell into the warm silence between you.

“you are, actually,” his voice was low and teasing, “because i really am as great as i smell.”

for once, you didn’t argue.

on the fifth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—five flowers all wrapped up in a bouquet he designed himself. it was just after sundown when kuroo was unlocking the door and stepping inside of your home. the paper he held was crinkled in his grip while the flowers peeked out at odd angles, a mix of bold colors and delicate whites. you cocked a brow at him, eyes wandering and questioning

“is this day five?” you gestured to the bouquet. “don’t get me wrong, i’m so grateful… but what’s the theme here, tetsuro? did you run out of budget or is this an act of minimalism?”

his grin was slow and easy, the kind that always seemed to have a secret tucked behind it. you learned to accept it. he laughed, stepping past you and into your apartment, leaving the cold trailing behind. “i may have argued with the florist over ribbon choices—but that’s besides the point.”

“wha—” he handed you the bouquet with a seductive wink. as you took it, you noticed the odd composition—a single red tulip, a deep purple iris, a white daisy, a bright yellow sunflower, and a pale pink rose.

“five flowers for five things,” stepping back to watch your expression, he continued, “each one is for something i love about you.”

and just when you thought it wasn’t possible for kuroo to surprise you anymore than he already did, you were proven wrong again. stilling, you let yourself feel the weight of his words as they settled into tge tips of your fingers. “you made this?”

“mmm, well i designed it,” he corrected, the smugness now tempered by something a little more humble. “technically i only arranged it. poured my soul into it though. the tulip’s for how bold you are. you’ve got this way of standing out even when you think you’re blending in. it’s infuriating, honestly.”

you ran your fingers over the tulip’s petals, and his voice softened as he pointed to the next.

“the iris is for how much smarter you are than me.” there was no bite in his tone. “don’t get a big head about it, i still beat you at trivia night last month.” you opened your mouth to protest, but he was already moving on.

“the daisy? for how annoyingly kind you are. to me, to strangers, to stray cats in alleyways. you make everyone feel like they matter.”

your throat tightened as his fingers brushed over the edge of the sunflower.

“this one’s for how much light you bring into my life. it’s cheesy as hell, trust me i know, but…” all he offered was a shrug, his grin faltering for a split moment. “i mean it.”

he hadn’t looked up at you yet, still in a dream state as he gazed at the last flower. pausing at the rose, his hand dropped back to his side. his pitch lower, more intimate, when he said, “and the rose is for how much i love you. no explanation needed for that one.”

the only sound you could hear was the faint of the bouquet as you shifted it in your hands. for a moment, all the teasing and the wit and the usual sharpness between you dissolved into something quieter—something raw and real.

“tetsu,” you said softly, but you couldn’t find the words to follow.

if there was one thing you loved more than his gifts, it was his dorky lopsided grin. “i told myself i wouldn’t get all sappy,” he scratched the back of his neck. “but you know how i get around flowers. turns me into a total poet.”

“not a very good one,” if there was one thing you could manage while holding back tears, it was witty retorts to kuroo’s words.

“yikes,” he feigned hurt, but his smile didn’t falter. “so, do you like it? orrrr should i just stick to chocolates next year?”

you looked down at the bouquet. gazing at every colour, at the thought he’d put into every flower, every scent, every message hidden in their petals—your heart ached with the weight of it.

“i love it,” you whimpered, your voice trembling just enough for him to catch it. “i love you.”

his smile softened, his hand reaching up to brush a stray hair from your face. “good,” his voice was warm. “because i’ve got seven more days of this, and i’m not letting you return a single gift.”

on the sixth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—six different ways to say “i love you” in different languages. kuroo waltzed into your living room on the sixth day of his increasingly elaborate holiday gifting holding a small stack of cue cards in one hand and an overly confident grin on his face.

“alright,” he began, dropping onto the couch beside you, “today’s gift is educational: a little bit of culture, a little bit of romance.”

setting your mug of tea down in interest, you were skeptical—like always. “if this ends with me being serenaded in bad french, i’m locking you out.”

he loudly gasped in offense, clutching the cue cards to his chest. “excuse me? my french is impeccable.”

“your french is embarrassing.”

ignoring you, he flipped the first card toward you, reading it aloud. in his handwriting were the words, je t’aime.

“see? classic,” his accent was questionable at best. “it’s romantic, it’s timeless. and you can’t deny that it sounds a little better than just ‘i love you.’”

“except when you say it like that,” you teased.

he pretends to be unfazed, choking back a laugh and your playful jab. he revealed the next card: ich liebe dich.

“this one’s german. it’s efficient and to the point like a well-engineered car,” he said, adding a dramatic comparison. “say it back. come on. ich liebe dich.”

“i’m not repeating that.”

“coward,” he muttered, flipping to the third card: ti amo.

“now, this one is for when i’m feeding you pasta,” he gestures extravagantly. “picture it: candlelit dinner, spaghetti, me leaning over the table like i’m straight out of an old Italian film. “ti amo.”.”

you snorted. “more like you spilling marinara sauce on your shirt.”

“uncultured,” he sighed, shaking his head.

the next card read, saranghae. he held it up with a bit more reverence.

“this one’s korean,” he explained. “it’s sweet, right? got a nice rhythm. saranghae.” there was a pause, almost in quiet contemplation, before kuroo then added slyly, “you’re swooning right now, i can tell.”

“oh, absolutely. weak in the knees,” you said straight faced.

“perfect. that’s the goal.”

the fifth card: te quiero.

“spanish. it means ‘i love you,’ but it’s also like, ‘i care about you.’ multifaceted. practical and emotional,” he said, tapping his temple like it was a genius move.

you smiled, “are you planning to take me on a multilingual tour of love, or are we stopping here?”

“patience, my love,” and kuroo flipped to the final card. aloha wau iā ʻoe.

“that’s hawaiian,” he said, his tone softer now. “it’s not just ‘i love you.’ it’s… bigger than that. like, ‘i carry you with me.’”

he grinned, setting the cards aside. “see? i’m not just a pretty face.”

“you’re insane,” you shook your head, your voice betraying the warmth blooming in your chest and the small smile that lingered across your lips.

“and yet,” he teased, leaning closer, “you’re still here. must be the german.”

“definitely not.”

on the seventh day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—seven handmade coupons for morning coffees made by yours truly, (kuroo). you woke up to the sound of him humming in the kitchen, the smell of coffee curling through the air and gently rolling you awake. when you stumbled into the room (still half-asleep), he greeted you with a little stack of paper slips tied together with string.

“good morning, sleeping beauty,” he pushed a warm cup of coffee into your hands. “your seventh gift awaits.”

you squinted at him and then at the handmade coupons he held out. each one had “one homemade morning coffee” written across it.

“coupons?” you questioned flatly.

“not just coupons,” he quickly answered, moving to send a flick to your forehead. “these are artisanal. limited edition. handcrafted with love.”

“they look like they were crafted by a toddler.”

“ouch,” he whined, clutching his chest as though wounded. “but fine, let’s break it down. seven coffees for each day of the week, exactly how you like them. frothy milk, not too hot. just a dash of cinnamon, because i know you pretend not to like it but secretly, you love it.”

he had read you to filth. “and what happens after i use up all seven?”

“oh, you’ll be addicted by then,” he replied with a charismatic wink. “i’m just playing the long game.”

toying with the crumpled paper and inspecting them more closely, you notice one of them had an additional note scribbled in the corner: bonus: i’ll even let you take the last sip of my coffee ;)

you shook your head in disbelief. this was so unlike kuroo. with furrowed brows, you turned to him, “you hate sharing coffee.”

“uh, correction: i hate sharing coffee with other people. with you, it’s an act of love.”

“and when can i actually make good with these?” you asked, tucking the coupons into your pocket.

“whenever you demand it,” he bowed, “i’m at your service always—currently a barista for hire. oh but i must say, full disclosure, my latte art is limited to blobs.”

“blobs?”

“abstract hearts,” he clarified with a grin. “call it modern—trendy, if you will”

kuroo’s coffee was as much of an experience as it was a drink. the surface of the latte was crowned with an ambitious attempt at foam art—what could generously be described as a heart. a faint dusting of cinnamon kissed the frothy top, swirling faintly as the steam rose.

it definitely wasn’t perfect, but it was him—warm, unpolished, and just a little disordered. you could already imagine it in your head, the endearing way he would’ve tilted his head, squinting at the cup like an artist critiquing his own masterpiece.

you laughed, shaking your head at the thought. kuroo must’ve thought you were laughing at his response because he was quick to be defensive.

“hey, all hearts are beautiful,” his arms were sternly crossed against his chest as he stared down at you. “besides, you drink it—not frame it.”

so with a nod, you sipped the coffee in your hands. to no one’s surprise—he’d made it perfectly, nailing everything down to the faint sprinkle of cinnamon you always pretended not to want.

“okay,” you clapped both your hands together enthusiastically, setting the mug down and pushing all the coupons into your pocket. “you’re on the clock for the rest of the week. let’s see if you can actually make seven cups as good as this one.”

kuroo smirked, holding the cup up like it was his greatest triumph. “challenge accepted. but don’t get used to this level of service. i’m not planning on opening a café any time soon.”

you feigned a groan of anguish, already mourning the image you had of him in an apron with his name embroidered across the front in your head.

“oh, you’re definitely opening a café,” you teased. “i’m making it my eighth gift request.”

“dream big, babe,” he laughed, sending a pinch to your cheek before walking towards to living room. “for now, enjoy the best coffee in town, made by the best boyfriend in the world.”

it was silly and over-the-top. yet, as you watched him carefully pour milk into another mug for himself, you couldn’t help but smile into your own coffee; there might be something dangerously romantic about a man who knows your drink order better than you do.

on the eighth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—eight slices of your favourite pizza. the pizza box was waiting for you on the counter unwrapped. the unmistakable aroma of your favorite pizza in the air—an irresistible invitation. kuroo, sitting at the dining table, watched you approach it with an excited smile.

“eight slices,” he gestured grandly as he stood up, both hands present the box to you. “one for each day of christmas so far. thoughtful, isn’t it?” he pretended to flick back a long piece of hair in an attempt of confidence.

“you know i’ll eat this entire thing in one sitting,” you felt like you could cry from happiness, already reaching for the lid.

“exactly.” he tapped his temple. “a gift that vanishes is a gift you can’t overthink. i’m saving you from existential dread.”

you laughed, thanking him as you opened the box. there it was: your favorite pizza, glistening like a treasure chest filled with molten gold and perfectly crisp toppings. the ultimate kicker? each slice had been marked with a sharpie inside the box.

“tetsuro… what are these labels?”

“guided eating,” he straightened up.

sure enough, written beside each slice in his looping handwriting were notes:

slice 1: for courage, because braving multiple years with me deserves a medal.

slice 2: for patience, because i’m pretty sure i’m still not folding the laundry right and you fix it every time without any complaint.

slice 3: for joy, because watching you smile is better than any christmas lights.

slice 4: for forgiveness (in advance), for what i might say during monopoly later.

slice 5: for luck, because you’ll need it to beat me at monopoly later.

slice 6: for love, because i can’t put that in words so i’ll give you pizza.

slice 7: for adventure, in case you want to try pineapple on your pizza next time.

slice 8: for tomorrow, unless you eat this one too. which honestly, i think you should.

you couldn’t decide whether to laugh, cry, or throttle him for being such an over-the-top sap.

“this is such an odd gift, tetsu!,” you couldn’t stop laughing, though your eyes stung and your chest ached in that intimate, tender way he always managed to conjure.

“oddly perfect?” he sheepishly replied, grabbing a slice and handing it to you. “come on. start with courage.”

immediately you took a bite and sighed. it was exactly as good as you remembered. somehow knowing he’d gone through the trouble of this strange display made it even better.

“you’re quite weird,” you said, wiping your lips with a napkin.

“oh come on, you love me,” he bumped his hip with yours.

you glanced at the box and then at him. you thought about how much of yourself he’d somehow folded into this simple, silly gift—your personality and your habits.

“i do,” you admitted, because how could you not?

as you grabbed the next slice: patience—you decided that eight slices of pizza might just be the most romantic thing you’d ever been given.

on the ninth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—nine random, sweet text messages that pop up randomly throughout the day. the first one buzzed into your phone just as you were pulling on your coat, the frosted morning sunlight bleeding through the blinds.

tetsu: on the 9th day of christmas my true love gave 2 me

tetsu: one notification 2 make u smile.

tetsu: good morning, 2 my favourite person ever.

it was simple and playful—and it did its job. you did smile. giddily tugging your scarf tighter against the chill, you headed out the door.

the second one came while you were waiting for your coffee, a notification cutting through the quiet of the café.

tetsu: if i were a latte, i’d want 2 b the one in ur hand rn

tetsu: u always pick the good ones

you almost rolled your eyes but found yourself chuckling into your sleeve. he had a knack for being perfectly timed and charming simultaneously.

by the third, you realised this wasn’t a coincidence. he was going to send you nine, sweet, little messages throughout today.

tetsu: just saw a dog wearing a little sweater and thought of u

tetsu: not sure why

tetsu: both equally adorable.

it hit your phone as you walked past a store display of knitted scarves, the kind you knew he’d wrinkle his nose at and insist were “over-engineered neck warmers.” you texted back a sarcastic ‘wow, smooth’ and almost swore you could hear his laughter from wherever he was.

the fourth through sixth arrived like little spoonfuls of sugar in your coffee, scattered throughout your day.

#4 tetsu: if i told u i missed u, would u roll ur eyes or tell me 2 hurry home?

tetsu: asking 4 science

#5 tetsu: totally random fact

tetsu: u’re the best person i know

tetsu: not random enough?

tetsu: fine. penguins have knees

#6 tetsu: it’s scientifically proven that texting u makes me 87% happier

tetsu: i just ran the numbers

by the seventh text, you were incredibly flustered. not because they were overly romantic (he always balanced it with his wit), but because they were clever, thoughtful, and wholly attuned to you in a way that felt almost unfair.

the eighth came as you were locking up for the evening, fumbling with your keys.

tetsu: i’d offer 2 carry the world for u but u’re doing a pretty good job carrying it urself

tetsu: don’t work 2 hard

it was such a simple set of words, but it hit you in a way none of the others had. its tenderness slipped through your defenses. naturally, you stopped—fingers tightening around your phone wondering how someone could make you feel so seen from miles away.

the ninth and final message arrived when you were home. you were peeling off your layers and finally sinking into the couch when you felt the vibration in your pant pocket.

tetsu: if love was measured in words then nine texts wouldn’t come close

tetsu: but hey, it’s a start

tetsu: c u soon

the doorbell rang almost immediately after and you couldn’t help but giggle as you opened it to find him standing there with snow in his hair, a grin on his face, and two cardboard cups of steaming hot chocolate in his hands.

“nine texts weren’t enough,” he said with a shrug. “thought i’d deliver the tenth in person.”

you let him in with a kiss. still laughing, you decided that no matter how odd or cheesy his efforts were, you wouldn’t choose to have him any other way.

on the tenth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—ten silly little drawings of you. the tenth day of christmas came as quickly as the past couple days had. after dinner had been packed away—dishes done and table cleaned, you and kuroo sat across each other at the dinner table with bowls of ice cream in front of you. it was then that from under the table, kuroo pulled out and handed you a mismatched stack of papers tied together with a velvet ribbon that looked suspiciously too elegant for something he’d own. you gave him a look, one eyebrow arched. “did you steal this ribbon from one of my gifts?”

“i repurposed it!” he defended, nudging the stack closer to you from across the table with his spoon and air of mock grandeur. “quick! my magnum opus awaits.”

you untied the ribbon, and the first thing you saw was a piece of cardboard with what appeared to be a stick figure rendition of you sitting cross-legged on a couch. above it were the words, “my muse, lost in thought (translation: watching trashy reality tv)”.

“what the—?” you interrupted yourself trying to suppress a laugh as you turned to the next page. a receipt from your local grocery store confused you, but once you flipped to the back, you saw it. kuroo had sketched a profile view of you mid-yawn, the exaggerated swoop of your hair curling over your head like a wave.

“it’s art, obviously,” he chuckled, leaning over your shoulder to get a closer look. “it’s called ‘ten views of my love in her natural habitat.’”

“oh my god, you’re impossible,” there was a familiar warmth growing in your chest—one you had been feeling every day this week.

you flipped through the rest:

a coffee sleeve: sketched was you, deep in concentration with a mug in your hand, sitting on the couch with the caption, “she said she wasn’t a morning person, but look at her with that coffee. magnificent.”

the back of a to-do list: sketched was you, mid-argument with your stick-figure arms dramatically flailing with the caption, “terrorising me because i forgot to do the laundry (but she’s right).”

a post-it note: sketched was you, reading a book with the words “too pretty to be distracted” written at the top in kuroo’s terrible handwriting.

by the sixth drawing, it was on the back of an old takeout menu—you stopped trying to hide your grin. “you’re actually pretty talented, you know that?”

“ridiculously talented,” he grinned back. “and ridiculously smitten.”

the seventh was your face, exaggerated into cartoonish proportions and drawn on a torn piece of fabric. the caption read, “she said i couldn’t draw so i gave her big eyes. now she’s anime”

by the time you reached the tenth which was a hasty sketch of your hand holding his, drawn on a napkin from your favourite restaurant—you felt the laugh catch in your throat. beneath the image, he’d written: “a masterpiece: her, letting me love her.”

“it’s dumb, i know,” kuroo slowly started, suddenly shy and scratching the back of his neck. “but i seriously couldn’t help it. i see you everywhere—on receipts, on napkins, in coffee sleeves. you’re just…always there.”

“it’s not dumb,” you said quietly, holding the napkin like it was something precious.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

you leaned into the chair, kuroo’s head resting atop your own and the stack of silly little drawings sitting in your lap as you went through everything again—your ice creams long forgotten as they melted under the light of the kitchen.

on the eleventh day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—eleven “i’ll do it” moments. he appeared in your doorway that saturday morning, sleeves rolled up and hair a little disheveled. there was an air of martyrdom with his presence so exaggerated you almost thought violins were to start playing.

“i’ll do it,” he announced, almost parallel to delivering the opening line of a shakespearean tragedy.

you looked up from your laptop, alarmed “do what?”

“whatever it is! dishes, laundry, taking out the trash, assembling that ridiculously complicated shelf you bought because it “might come in handy.” ” he punctuated the last word with air quotes, tone laced with theatrical suffering. “today, i am your humble servant. point, and i’ll fix.”

you guessed your skepticism must have obviously plastered over your face because he was quick to add, “no catch, promise.” he held his pinky finger up, “it’s my eleventh gift to you—eleven ‘i’ll do it’s.’”

leaning back with your arms crossed, you gently nudged your laptop aside. “this feels suspicious.”

“suspiciously romantic,” strolling into the room and perching on the end of your bed, he continued. “think about it. eleven acts of selfless service—that’s love language gold.”

“this feels morally wrong,” you both laughed.

kuroo stood abruptly, gesturing to the room like he was on a game show. “okay, quick demo. that pile of laundry in the corner? i’ll fold it. the trash bag sitting by the door? out it goes. oh! and because i’m feeling generous…” he paused dramatically, turning to you with a grin. “…i’ll even organize the pantry.”

you swear your jaw dropped so hard it hit the ground. “no… the pantry? seriously?”

“the pantry,” he repeated solemnly much like a knight vowing to slay a dragon. “i know how much it bothers you when the bowls in there aren’t lined up in order of size. don’t think i haven’t noticed.”

you felt equal parts amused and touched as he grabbed the laundry basket and made good on his first “i’ll do it.” kuroo knew you well enough to know that you’d recognise this wasn’t just about chores. he knew you knew that was his way of showing you he saw all the little things—your frustration at the overflowing trash, or your quiet sigh when you couldn’t find your favourite tea.

by the time he had reached the third task which happened to be untangling the mess of cords behind the tv—you were leaning against the doorway, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“you know,” you began quietly, “you could’ve just gotten me something easy… like socks.”

“i know i said socks were day four material, but they don’t say ‘i love you,’” he didn’t look up as he wrestled with a particularly stubborn cord. “this does.”

and somehow, amidst the clatter of pots being reorganized and the triumphant “got it!” when he finally untangled the cords—you felt a quiet, glowing gratitude. love wasn’t always grand gestures or elaborate gifts. sometimes it was just someone rolling up their sleeves and saying, “i’ll do it.”

on the twelfth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—ten handwritten love letters, a diamond ring, and a promise of an eternity together. you were both walking home from a dinner out, the snow nipping at your nose in the late night. kuroo had insisted you both went for a stroll around your local park before returning home. as you both sat on a bench under a lamppost to take in the coldness of night, he handed you an envelope so unassuming that for a brief moment, you thought he might’ve brought you a pack of gum. the paper was a little wrinkled, and the whole thing seemed as if it had been wrapped in a rush. yet like all his other gifts, it was unmistakably kuroo—disorderly in execution and precise in intention.

he stood up and rocking on his heels, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets nervously. “open it.”

you cocked your head at him, confused and caught off guard by his sudden change in behaviour. “you’re really leaning into this whole romantic streak, huh?”

“leaning into it?” pitch rising as he parroted, mock offended. “i practically invented romance.”

“pfft—” you snorted, “—and humility, clearly.”

and then he was back as quickly as he was gone, grinning sharp and bright. though there was something else beneath it—a quiet flicker of nerves, but it was small enough for you to dismiss it. it was strange the way he wasn’t rushing you or teasing like he usually did. but you tugged the envelope open all the same, your hands suddenly clammy as you unfolded the paper and lifted the top open.

inside nestled neatly were folded sheets of paper. you could tell that one was numbered, the familiar slope of his handwriting filling the margins in messy loops. you tilted your head.

“love letters,” he replied, as if reading your thoughts.

“love letters?” you repeated it like it was a foreign concept.

there it was, that familiar feeling of your chest tightening as you pulled out the first letter. the paper felt heavier than it should have—like it was carrying the weight of something unspoken. you unfolded it carefully, your eyes scanning the page.

the first letter was a story written in his usual casual, boyish tone. it recounted the first time he realised he was in love with you. not in some grand, sweeping moment but in the tranquil stillness of a rainy afternoon 4 years ago when you’d fallen asleep on his grandma’s couch, clutching a bowl of popcorn like it was a lifeline.

the second letter was an apology for the moments he’d been too stubborn or too sharp-tongued—for every time he made you feel anything less than adored.

the third unraveled you entirely.

“if I could give you my eyes for a day, you’d see the world exactly as it is. beautiful, messy—and always better when you’re in it.”

you swallowed hard and set the letter aside. each one felt like a little piece of him, stitched together in ways he rarely allowed himself to be seen. by the time you reached the ninth letter, you were dizzy from it all, vision blurry and nose running.

the ninth letter was the shortest, just two words in his handwriting, “almost there.”

the tenth letter you found written inside the envelope, barely visible unless you were looking for it. it read:

“you’ve always had this way of holding the universe together without even realizing it. let me hold something for you in return.”

you hesitated upon finishing, fingers brushing the edge of the paper and heart thundering in your chest. looking up, you were confused when kuroo was not standing in front of you. it was then that you felt it, the feeling of knowing something impossibly sweet and devastatingly clever was present.

so you turned around, the paper slipping from your hands.

kuroo kneeled there, uncharacteristically still. between his two calloused fingers was an open box, and inside a delicate ring. the usual grin he had was gone now, replaced by something softer and steadier.

“i didn’t write this one,” he confessed quietly, looking away embarrassed. “because i wanted to say it out loud.”

he whispered your name, soft and certain like it was a promise in itself.

and just like that, the world shifted, tilting slightly off its axis as it stopped spinning.

all reblogs and likes appreciated!

KVROOMI © 2024, DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE

[drenched-in-sunlight]

Can I just say how in love I am with the way you draw Marika? Like every art you post of her has my jaw dropping…you add such a beautiful layer of humanity to her with her dynamic expressions and poses—it’s so refreshing to see especially when so many fan arts of her needlessly sexualize her or dial her down to a one-dimensional stone-faced villain (which a villain she is—but she is still complex)

And I adore how you draw her partial nudity as something natural, meaning that you don’t draw her without a top for the sake of objectifying her,

Your art is overall so pleasant and colourful and fun to look at, and your takes of Marika’s character in your fanart is literally what made me more interested in who she is in-game.

Thank you for drawing her the way you do! (And for drawing Elden Ring fanart in general💕)

i've been letting this ask stewing in my inbox for a while because it makes me so emotional 🥲

if you look at how i drew Marika before anything in the DLC was announced, it did fall into the two categories you were talking about, because despite having a little more positive view on her than the rest of the fandom at the time, i still had no idea who she was as a person. and by that time i were more interested in Malenia, so even though i did try to envision how Marika was, it's a very distant and vague image. which is what i love about Elden Ring lore in general: we see Marika via how her children see her.

it was easy back then to conclude we'd never get her, and "mother" is a distant term that will always be overshadowed by "God", so i just went along with the general haha evil sexy girlboss thing that the fandom was doing. but then the DLC teaser dropped the another elusive (possibly firstborn) child of her, with a statue of her holding a baby in his boss room, she started to get more little quirks that's so human in my work (the small smile, the little lock of hair that curls gently) because for the first time, we see her through the eye of a son that evidently adores her, so she gets a bit more human, because someone views her with emotions that are not fear nor distance.

then the DLC drops, and it's not just through Messmer's eye (or the entirety of his being that carry so much of her love it weighs him down and twist into the most horrible curse in the end), it's through the eyes of her family that were no longer there at all. it's the jar innard enemy that huddled in a jar and clutched at a piece of raw meat, it's the Grandmother's gentle smile as she rest among a sea of flowers, it's the solitary minor erdtree that bathed the whole place in the kindness of gold, it's the Fire Knights and soldiers that clearly viewed her as Mother as much as she was God, it's Miquella throwing away his love and doubt because he didn't know how to deal with the revelation that his mother was once a fallible human just like the rest of them, it's Trina's entreaty that Godhood was just a cage that would kill him slowly, it's the final boss music with the female voice belting "Hail, Marika the Eternal" - in the place where she had to wade through a sea of flesh and blood, her family included, to ascend to Godhood. it's finally understanding that to her, Eternity is to live for all her loved ones that have fallen down.

and somehow, it all comes back to this portrait at the base game, right at the Roundtable Hold, of a woman with permanently lowered eyes.

yeah i know after the DLC i've put on such a Messmer-style protective glasses for her, it shows very clearly in my art. now she could cry, looks sad, small smile, big smile, looks silly, looks cute, looks serious, her hair is pulled up in twenty different ways, she jokes and talks to animals and goes back to be just a simple young girl rolling around in the grass, blah blah... im drawing all these with eyes wide open. and i have no intention of stopping lol.

sometimes, things that already come alive will never go back to be a cardboard cutout anymore. if ppl don't like it, block me or whatever, in my space, i'll do that makes me happy. and im very glad that other ppl could find their own happiness and solace with my work too :) thank you for such a thoughtful and kind messages!

[burn-before-reading]

Love in the Time of Socialism

joost klein x artist!reader

art, mush, and ramblings about life

warnings: depression (ish), burnout, reader character in some vague mental health funk

word count: 2k

a/n: slight prequel to blue is the colour of your eyes but can be read as stand alone. just same artist reader. vaguely romantic but just ramblings and getting feelings out haha. started this when I was in more of a bad mental state (lol) but im fine now so it got kinda tame by the end of it. still not proofreading anything

title from the song Love in the Time of Socialism by Yellow House

Rpf below the cut—

Normally Joost has to call you because its the only way you will actually look at your phone. Its more often that not you find yourself fixated on planning out your next project, and your friends have to force you back into reality. There was that one time no one had heard from you in over a week and thought you were dead, when you were just working. You hadn’t realized how many texts you missed and apologized for scaring your friends half to death. Especially Joost.

So now you leave your ringer on, and now they call.

Tonight, however, Joost calls and you aren’t in your studio. You are in your bed, where you have been for the entire day. and also most of yesterday. There isn’t a reason in your head specifically why this has happened. you MEANT to get up. Theres a list of chores and things to do just sitting on your desk, but you woke up late, so now nothing will get done. At some point it just became too stressful to even get up and look at it. You roll over and stare at the contact picture of him, smiling with some dumb fish eye lens he thought was funny. You debate not picking up at all.

But you can’t ignore him.

“Hi Joost.” your voice came through the phone more hoarse than intended when you answered, you don’t remember the last time you talked to someone. “Whats going on?”

“the others wanted to go out for drinks tonight, you hadn’t responded so I wanted to check you were joining us.” You could imagine him rocking back and forth on his heels in the middle of his living room while he talked, it was either that or pacing around.

“uhh..” Drinks at a bar was the last thing on your mind. In any other situation you would have loved to be around your friends, but right now you just needed to avoided as much as possible. “Not a good night, tonight. Sorry, I’ll have to join you guys next time.”

Joost felt like something was off, you sounded tired. “Is everything okay?”

“I’ll be fine I just… shit brain day. bad brain thats all. It happens.” You did your best to summarize how you felt without actually admitting anything, you weren’t sure how to explain anything anyway.

“ Oh Im sorry, would it be good, if I came over? I can keep you company, if thats okay?”

“you don’t have to, I’ll be fine tomorrow. I want you to have fun. ” you insisted, but he pressed on.

“I don’t mind, the group would understand. Have you eaten today?”

“Like… a meal? yes, or well, no. I had a soda..” You glance at the half drunk soda from the night before, now flat. “and uhhh..”

“I’ll pick something up.” You could hear him on the other end gathering things together, keys, wallet, probably his ipad.

“.. thank you. I’ll see you in a bit, I guess.”

-

Joost knocked on your door about an hour later. In that time you were able to get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom to change and make yourself somewhat presentable in front of a guest, and to the kitchen to make coffee despite it being 8pm.

You opened it to see Joost with a sheepish smile as he extends his arms out for a hug. “Hi.”

“Hi Joost.” you take the step to hug him, feeling his body heat contrast with the cold nighttime. “I’m glad you’re here.” the two of you head inside to your living room where he empties his bag of take out to reveal a couple different thai dishes and egg rolls. It was hard to not admit you weren’t at least a little bit hungry.

The two of you ate in mostly silence, making small talk about different projects you two have going on, or the fact that the two of you were in between projects. He done with touring for the time being and in the process of working on a new album. You loosely avoiding talking about any current work plans but mentioned one or two paintings you finished for a private gallery commission last month.

“ Just some paintings of animals and nature-ish symbolism. Honestly my heart wasn’t really in that one, but it payed the rent so.” you shrug and shove noodles into your mouth.

“Well now you have the time to work on your own stuff, right?” he commented, leaning back into your couch and looking down at you sitting on the floor instead of any of your own furniture. “Draw whatever your heart desires.”

“I mean I guess.. Im just glad to be done with the oil paints for now. I swear i think I was gonna die in my studio from all the chemicals. I dunno, I finished that whole project last month, I haven’t really been very productive since then.” you trail off and Joost gets a concerned expression on his face.

He sinks down from his spot of the couch to join you in the floor. The fluffy rug brushing against his legs as he adjusts his new sitting position.

“Its okay to take a break, you know.”

“I know I know, I just get frustrated. I never seem to have my energy directed towards the right thing. Whenever I have all those big projects from other contractors, I can brainstorm and think of all these interesting ideas I wanna work on, but I can’t because then I would get behind on the art Im being paid to do.”

“mhm.” he nods, to indicate he’s following along.

“ And then whenever Im done with those projects, I just get… tired. and my focus is gone. and Everything just feels…” you gesture the last bit with your hands, scrambling your fingers, to imply your thoughts. You aren’t looking at him, but you can still see him nodding in your peripherals. Joost always seemed to understand your thinking and explanations to things, even if you thought they were messy.

“Do you want to try painting right now?” he asks. you just shrug your shoulders.

“I don’t know what I would paint.”

“You can paint our dinner, or, or yourself, or your plants maybe?” he suggested and stands up. “Can I paint too?”

“Oh we’re actually doing this?” Not that you didn’t want to, but this self doubt had creeped into your mind again. That failing to produce something decent would prove that you’ve lost all your talent, your skill.

“yea we can have a little painting party!” he chimed, but he hesitated walking over to your studio to grab stuff, still giving you the space to reject his idea.

you looked away and started nervously tapping your fork against the table.

tap tap tap tap

“…sure. We can use my watercolors, Ive been wanting to use them more often anyway.”

the coffee table became a little more cluttered as you set up the paints for the two of you. Joost using an old set 24 pans and you using a newer set of watercolor tubes you were gifted last year and never opened. You watched as Joost immediately dipped his brush in water and started activating the blue paints, spreading it onto his paper in big random strokes.

“what are you painting?”

“not sure yet, maybe im painting you.” he looks up and smirks. you scrunch your nose up.

“why are you using so much blue. am I a smurf?” you joke and he just shrugs and points to your own paper.

“Just mess around, can’t be any worse than what im doing.”

tap tap tap tap tap tap

you fidget with your own brush for a few seconds lo get before grabbing a big mop brush and wetting your paper with clean water. Taking your smaller brush again, you pour out a small amount of yellow and mix it up with some more water. You hesitate for a moment longer before letting the brush lightly touch the surface, creating a burst of colour on the paper as the colour seeps onto the page. You make a few more random marks before switching to another warm colour and repeating the process, now watching the colours bleeds and mix into each other. You look at Joost paper and see that he is actually now trying to paint you, the blue fortunately was able to be mostly contained to the background.

“Do you ever think about what you would do if you weren’t a musician?” you ask.

“I dunno I think after this I could have a pretty successful art career.” he teases but sees in your face the question is more serious. “I don’t know. I started off with youtube, but if I wasn’t doing that… its hard to think about what my life would be like if I didn’t follow this path.”

“I always have this feeling deep down, that I made a wrong choice somewhere along the line. I was thinking about going to school for psychology, I also wanted to work with animals at one point, be a vet. I enjoy art, don’t get me wrong, but I just worry that in making it my job Ive just drained all the passion I had for it.”

You let the paper dry before staining the page with lines of dark burgundy, creating hands and a human heart. he hums as he listens, not adding anything, but simply letting you vent. beginning to piece together your mood from earlier. “I don’t have any jobs lined up right now, which is what Ive been waiting for, to work on my own stuff, yknow? I haven’t had the time ive wanted to make something for myself for a while. But now I just feel, I feel like ive been frozen.”

“things seem to be okay right now. I like what youve made. ” you look down and see the scribbles youve made with your paint. hands clasped over a broken heart. you shrug and smile softly, signing the bottom.

“Just a scribble, you can have it if you want.” You hand the paper over to him. “thank you for coming by, its… its nice being around you. Helps a bit.”

Joost takes the paper and studies it for a second. “I really like it, maybe I should come by more often.”

“If you bring the food we can have art nights whenever you want.” he holds up his paper. The blue bleeding into your skintone and hair since he didn’t wait for anything to properly dry. “I might stick to my ipad though, I don’t know why you like this paint.” he scrunches his nose at it. you laugh and it makes him smile.

You notice for the first time how bright his eyes look when he smiles, but you brush the thought away.

-

“Feeling a bit better?” he asks as he lingers by the door on his way out.

“a bit. like I said It was just a mood, I was gonna be fine tomorrow most likely… I still appreciate you coming over.”

“Don’t ever be afraid to call or text okay? Im always here to talk if you need. or just to listen.”

“definitely. Ive been meaning to uh, talk to someone about all this stuff anyway, you’re not a professional but ill keep it in mind.”

he grins and goes in for one last hug. you feel him slightly squeeze you and linger a little longer than usual before letting go. With one last glance he waves and head off. You see him pull out a cigarette for the walk back. It takes you a second to close the door. standing there watching him walk off until he turns a corner and disappears. Closing the door you sigh and go the clean up your living room.

You notice he left the portrait he drew of you. signed at the bottom with a smiley face next to his name.

It gets hung up in your studio above your desk.

[unknownteapot]

In light of Courtney mentioning they would possibly want to direct a movie some day during the Q+A, what do you think a Smosh movie would look like with this current cast? Would it be similar to the original Smosh Movie? I'm imagining something similar to Smost the Sitcom Live, like a sitcom comedy maybe? Anyway you don’t have to answer, I’m just curious 🤗

anon, you are NOT ready i was BORN for this question and i'm about to type up a storm so strap in!! thank you for sending it in!!! me being a yapper + film student is not boding well for me rn...

i completely see what you mean about a sitcom/comedy type thing, their vibes during ssl were immaculate, but i also think if they *were* ever going to make a movie it'd be something vastly different from what they've done before just to keep it fresh and give people something never seen before. which is why..

i propose to you: a horror comedy about the cast getting stuck at the smosh office overnight (more below the cut)

hear me out HEAR ME OUT god im so passionate about this. this type of premise would avoid the cast having to play characters per se, they'd kind of just play 'themselves' so it's easier for the existing smosh fanbase to transition to this new movie format without it feeling gimicky/overproduced- the movie begins with just a typical end-of-video outro into the camera for smosh games (maybe only main cast and not freelance? bc full cast might be too many people for a movie idk) and then cuts out to the cast getting off the soundstage like hehe good shoot whatever whatever. but. wait a second. why is it past midnight?? quickly they're realising everyone's gone and its WAY late and they're locked in. all the clocks have stopped around the office. phones are all out of service (but show a weird little digital snake symbol as foreshadowing to something ;)

so now they're like uh-oh. what the fuck do we do. and promptly the cast splits into groups/pairs that all deal with this in their own way the movie would cut back and forth between. maybe amanda and angela deciding to steal alcohol from the kitchen and then snoop on people's desks?? finding out ian has a love locket of anthony in his drawer?? damien grows mushrooms under his desk??? olivia collect's people's candy wrappers?????? idk it could be ANYTHING which makes thsi SO FUNNY to me

BUT this is where the horror comes in, because suddenly people start going missing. and its not fun and games at all. the air feels weird, its like 3 am, everyone's losing their shit a little bit. they start regrouping to see who they can find "hey have you guys seen Angela?" "No, but Courtney just went missing too." "Guys I don't feel well.." AND LITTLE BY LITTLE. THEY START SEEING APPARITIONS. SMOSH CHARACTERS. WHO HAUNT THEM.

like i'm sorry. tell me it would NOT be hilarious for Mental Illness to come haunt the cast in an eerie ghost form??? Augustus??? insulting the cast (but hitting truths about them) making them think about their life decisions??? COURTNEY FREAKING MILLER???? JUST YELLING???? TELEPORTING AROUND THEM AND SCARING THE SHIT OUT OF THEM>?>>>>??? god the jumpscares they could do with this insane INSANE. BIZANKA???????????????? im

BUT NOT JUST SMOSH CHARACTERS- fnaf characters in their eerie ass suits, chica demanding Amanda why she held the door so hard that one time and didn't let her in meanwhile everyone is terrified and somewhat sobbing

so now its CHAOS, they're trying to stick together to avoid getting haunted, they're trying to find their missing friends, they're running around to the footsteps of animatronics, when suddenly they find a door to some storage closet open. they walk in.

there they are!!!! all their missing friends lying passed out on the floor and.. what's this strange hissing noise and why is it kinda foggy in there.. "Oh my god!" Amanda yells out in relief that none of this was real (or was it), "There's a gas leak at the smosh office!" And then promptly passes out. So do they all. THE END.

maybe a post-credits scene of ian and anthony coming into the office in the morning and finding a MESS and them all passed out like god. we gotta put baby gates in here or some shit. they keep messing stuff up!! OR BETTER. they dont know about the cast at first and look at each other with knowing smirks like "wanna go get high :)" and then they head towards where all their friends are passed out and we find out it was actually their secret 'gas leak' spot where they get high on the regular from the gas. ian pouting like "damnit. they found our secret spot :(" anthony shruggs like "oh well" and then they prance around the room trying to huff the gas like idiots and also pass out.

more insane ideas idk how to incorporate yet:

a comedic bit where Amanda bonds with Chica from fnaf and reads her tarot cards (amanda would SO be the person to chat her up after getting over her initial fear and be like 'hey, you just need love, honey. i get it, we've all been there') and its this insane horror yet adorable moment where these two world collide?? BONUS: if the rest of the cast hide in a corner and look at her like "how is she doing this???"

Tim the IT guy actually turning out to be a hologram that haunts all the computers with snake graphics (from that one smoffice sketch 'it could happen to any one of us!') and actually gets his energy from sucking out ram from people's devices

Props and shit moving!!! just so much potential

INNOVATIVE FORMAT:

AND a great way to introduce horror elements could be through this whole 'found footage' thing- you know how in some movies you find like someone's security cam recording etc etc. they could SO integrate elements of that because the smoffice is primarily for content creation so there's LOTS of cameras everywhere

"Hey uh.. guys I think this camera's still rolling." And its us watching footage of that room through it MASTERFUL. or people recording tiktoks and we watch through their screen recording but we see stuff in the background moving before they do YEAH. the HORROR OF IT. god i love movies

okay for everyone's sanity i will now stop i was actually not expecting to type this much- anon who sent this ask, i owe you everything!! im now obsessed with this idea i wish this was real w o w

[hyomaluvr]

Hi!!!!

Kunigami head canons pleaseplease please

Pspspspspspsps Kunigami headcanons

Pspspspspspsps

YES OFC IVE NEVER GOTTEN ASKS ABOUT REN NOR HAVE I EVER THOUGHT ABOUT HIM BUT IM SO INSPIRED

manga spoilers under the cut!!

NSFW KUNIGAMI RENSUKE HEADCANONS

cw // feminine words, afab reader, bllk staff/team manager reader, very slight angst, exhibitionism, objectification, possessiveness, size kink, breeding kink, not proofread, mean kunigami

- he loves it when you call him ren. whenever you call him that, he feels like keeling over. what started as a little tease or joke quickly became his downfall for you. he already liked you so much, but when he hears you sweetly call out that nickname? how is he supposed to not fall head over heels?!

- he’s so gentle despite being so big and strong. he has a huge size kink and it manifests in how he takes care of you and treats you. he looks down at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world, like if he thrusts a little too hard you’ll break, but he always caves when you beg him for it harder.

- how could he possibly deny you when you beg?? or when you press your boobs together, or push them against his arm, or lean over and show him your panties, or…or really just wear anything skin tight? he doesn’t know how became such a degenerate, but it’s for certain that before he came to blue lock he wasn’t like this.

- it doesn’t matter how much he practiced or how hard he played, he’ll always have it in him to make love to you, but often times you end up taking care of him during those hard days. you play with his hair while kunigami buries his face lovingly into your chest (albeit he looks way too happy to be there) and talk about nothing.

- he’ll do anything for you, and he’s never demanded you do anything for him. kunigami is such a soft dom, such a giver, and even in the filthiest mindset he’s in, all he wants to do is kiss and suck on your pretty lips.

- so many nights together, he’s fallen asleep in your room with your head cuddled into his chest, hand tangled in your hair, and strong arm keeping you close to him. so gentle, so sweet, so careful. he thinks he can really achieve his dream of becoming a super hero when his super power is already snuggled up between his pecs.

- when kunigami returns from the wild card door though…of course you knew where he was, you were staff! even though it hurt your chest, even though you had no idea what’s through the wild card door, you know he’ll definitely, definitely come back to you. except…

- he hardly spares a glance your way. he’s changed. his bright eyes are now cloudy, not even dark. he looks like a dead fish with the way he saunters through the hallway towards the bastard münchen wing. you try to catch up to him, but he just glares at you and asks what you want. he says he’s different, says he’s left all of those feelings behind.

- but when a few days later you tearfully run up to him and cling to him from behind, his chest aches so much it feels like he’s going to implode. kunigami discarded all weakness, gave up everything to become the best, but…isn’t it more of a weakness to be apart from you than to be in love with you?

- he sighs, he really tries to hold himself back, desperately praying that after all he’s been through, he’s strong enough to shut you down. and he is, he turns around and opens his mouth to cut you down.

- except he’s not. when he sees those pretty eyes filled to the brim with tears that he caused, just for a second his face softens before he puts a hand on your head. “get out of here. practice starts in 10.” he grunts, turning around and walking away. once he’s out of sight, he leans against a wall when he’s sure he’s alone and clutches his chest, a shred of humanity panging dully at it.

- it only gets worse the more he’s around you, you who doesn’t give up, you who takes any sign of weakness (that he just keeps showing you to his dismay) as a sign of feelings, as a sign that your boyfriend is still yours. is kunigami just going to rip your heart to shreds and trample your feelings? of course not, he just can’t. even if he ignored you and forgot about everything you two are, he was filled with a fiery rage at the thought of you giving that sweet attention to anyone else.

- one day it happens. that blonde tatted freak got a little too close to you, calling you ‘darling’ and looking too fondly over you. had kaiser intended to flirt with you? not really, he was just being a piece of shit, but kunigami couldn’t see that. all he saw was his being taken from him. he clenches his fists and tries so hard to practice, does everything he can, but within minutes he’s benched and told to cool off from red carding the shit out of kaiser’s stupid fucking face.

- he storms out, an inconsolable fire burning through his core, only to be greeted by your concerned words echoing through the hallway. “rensuke, what’s going on?” you plead. but that’s not good enough for him. he snarls and shoves you against the wall, making sure you can’t escape him any longer.

- that size kink comes racing back, but instead of cooing at how cute you are he’s panting over top of you because you’re like a little mouse being closed in on by a hawk. you’re so much smaller than him, he wonders how you ever fit him inside of you.

- his lips are on yours thoughtlessly, discarding all of those worries about ‘weakness’ and ‘strength’, whatever the hell that was. kunigami is deciding right here and now that those things have got nothing to do with you. he doesn’t ask permission because he knows you’ll give it, knows you crave him even when you’re staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes with no idea what’s coming next.

- and you do! but he’s so much rougher, so much more feral, like he’s untamed, biting your lips before trailing down your neck. he’s biting hard to make his mark on you, sucking on your soft skin like you’re trying to leave or something, but that’s obviously not true because you’re whimpering out ‘ren’ over and over with your hands tangled in his hair. there it is.

- he pulls your pants down and rips your underwear, grunting in irritation as he tries to get his dick out of his pants. he’s red and throbbing, precum drooling messily from his tap, and you realize that all he’s wanted this entire time, even during his solo training where you’d been deprived of each other for a couple months, was you. not even to be inside you, not to kiss you, just you.

- that day he’s pounding his hips into you with no regard for who could see. it’s not even like he’s trying to get his dick wet or something, it’s like he’s breeding you desperately to lay his claim all over you.

- “r-ren, the cameras-“ “shut up-“ “ren!” you whine. and when you whine as he fucks into you like an animal, you can see his eyes change, his cheeks go red, god, he’s so obsessed with you. you can be his exception, he doesn’t care anymore, it has to be you, only his, just his, more, more-

- when he paints your walls white, he holds you to his chest and stays in you for a minute.

- he’s so rough with you, so mean now, but you can almost read his mind right now, you can tell that he’s always been yours.

- he’s cold to everyone but you now. he’s still gruff of course, but means words coupled with his arms around you protectively don’t really mean much.

- you relearn how he loves, how he fucks, how he breeds, and how he’s still complete mush around you even if it shows differently.

- back shots become a lot more common, and he’s desperate to get your lips around his dick. he’ll grope your ass in front of other players, even the masters, he doesn’t give a fuck.

- at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter how cold his words are since you know he’ll be back at night to dive into your pussy like a starved man, and those eyes that look nothing short of madly in love don’t lie to you <3

- he calls you princess when you’re alone. the first time is an accident and he’s a mess, blushing and telling you to shut up, but then he keeps calling it out to you, sometimes even more than your name <3333 ugh he’s down so bad for you and if the other players see this they’re in shock that it’s the same kunigami that shed his identity to become a vessel.

[resurrectionist3]

What the hell are we supposed to do about America?

I’m asking anyone who sees this to repost, add tags, and add insight and extra information to this if possible. Even if it isn’t your usual type of content or even if you think this stuff doesn’t apply to you, please share it anyways. If anything, I just need confirmation that people are seeing what I have to say and that they perhaps share my thoughts. I know this is a lot but I tried to make it as clear and easy to read and understand as I could.

As a history fan, I’ve been having a really hard time recently. And im sure a lot of people know why.

Im scared right now. Im tired. And Im angry. Im constantly being overtaken by all of these emotions and I don’t even know where to begin to direct that passion and those feelings.

People everywhere, especially online, are talking about whats going on in the United States right now. A lot of people are talking about leaving and for most, thats really not an option. Most are calling for us to fight back and to stand up against what’s happening and what’s going to happen.

But how do you even start to do that? WHERE do you start? I’m among the many people who have asked those questions. We’re AWARE of what’s going on, we KNOW. And yet we feel stuck because what in the world are you even supposed to do?

History always repeats itself - it’s like bad film remakes of classics that didn’t need to be reimagined. So I decided to go back to one of my favourites of the remakes - the American Revolution. I’m not going to tell you that i did extensive research that lasted several hours and combed over hoards of reputable sources, because i didn’t. I did a singular Google search and opened one website. “What events led up to the American Revolution?” And I opened a link for the Massachusetts Historical Society (provided on this post).

All i needed was a basic summary and understanding of the several events and happenings that led to a war and entire reformation of a country, because i just needed to genuinely know - how the FUCK did they do that.

DISCLAIMER: I’m not telling anyone to praise and/or worship the “Founding Fathers” for what they did way back in the 1700s. I’m not saying they were good people who did good things; in fact we know that as individuals, a lot of them were pretty shitty. No one should be worshipping any one person or group of people - dare i say thats what got us into this mess we’re in right now. So telling you to look up to these dead white men and make them like gods is the absolute LAST thing i’m trying to do. But one thing they did right was incite massive change. And thats what we all need too. So i think its at least helpful to look back at what they did because clearly - it worked.

I screenshotted the main page of the website i linked and i think i’m just going to let the words there speak for themselves because some of it sounds eerily similar to some problems we’re facing or will face soon (This post is also long enough already). I implore you to go to the website and read more about each of these things and even do your own research. The similarities between human history and modern day issues absolutely do not stop here. I marked and highlighted parts that I personally believe are pretty prevalent.

Just adding a little bit of insight to the second to last point: Washington kind of notoriously didn’t want to lead the people. And he certainly didn’t want to be President. But often times, the people who don’t want to be in positions of leadership and power are the people who are most fit to do so. Because they understand the responsibilities and what it means to be in such a position. Beware of people who yearn for power and strive to be in leadership positions…

This is absolutely not much - but I did this because I just needed to know. I needed to be reminded that this level of change was possible once. I’m more than aware that things are different now. Even though the story is the same, the characters and the finer details are different and far more complex. Even if we tried, I couldn’t say for sure that it would work. America isn’t 13 colonies anymore. It’s 50 established states - 48 mainland, and 2 islands on opposite sides of the map. MILLIONS of people. How do you spread the word to that many? We have access to much quicker communication now, but thats both a blessing and a curse. The revolution was also during a time when those in charge at the state level were far more aware and involved with the communities they oversaw and represented. Things that happened then are just either extremely difficult or even impossible to replicate today.

But in my opinion (which is nowhere near expert), I think the one thing we should try to do is unite as much as possible. I know it’s extremely, extremely difficult to see eye to eye these days. I’m not asking anyone to make friends or agree with people who have dangerous and harmful views. But the best way to keep power over mass amounts of people is to keep them blind and separated - keep them weak and unaware of how strong they could be if they worked together. A few people may not be able to push an immovable obstacle - but hundreds? Thousands? They could break one.

Rather than arguing, please try to educate. At the end of the day, there is something that everyone can agree on. Find something and expand upon that. If people are worried about groceries and taxes and those things, then do what you can to learn about that and explain what can ACTUALLY be done to fix those things. Show them the truth, show them whats being done and explain how its working AGAINST the people, not FOR us. If you can agree on ONE THING, perhaps thats a start.

Its time to have those uncomfortable conversations that we try to ignore or avoid at family gatherings. I’m going to work on it myself, because I am not a strong speaker in real life. It took me over 2 hours to curate and write this post, imagine if i had to come up with things on the spot💀 When discussing polarising topics with friends and family who dont agree with your stance, please please try to educate them rather than belittle them for having incorrect or harmful information. People who are on .. that side prefer to yell, talk over others, argue, bring up random things, place blame, and change topics. They do that because deep down, I believe they know that they’re wrong. So instead of talking respectfully and civilly, they get loud and obnoxious because they want to confuse and fluster you. And it’s easy to give in, especially when it’s just you against others. If you ever feel you’ll be in danger for speaking up in those moments, then PLEASE do what you believe is necessary to keep yourself safe. But for those of you who can, I just want you to try. Yea, it’s going to make family gatherings uncomfortable. But at this point, that’s a small price to pay. I understand cutting off old friends and family members who have harmful views and spread harmful rhetoric. But IF YOU CAN, please try to make them agree with you on SOMETHING. Because it’s a start.

The higher powers want people to be divided - pointing fingers at each other and other things, placing blame on anything else other than the real cause of the problems. Because they want you to be blind to the real threat, which is them.

This is so fucking corny and i can’t believe im about to write this and believe it but honestly…

United is the ONLY way we can stand now. But currently .. we’re anything but United.

[lilmissasap]

a little rant while im on break at my job

okay i know we're supposed to like ghostflower ships but i... i have some thoughts.

i see the love and lust between those two in into the spiderverse, miles is so giggly around gwen and gwen is slightly less unhinged (you ALL know what im getting at, love her but our good sis gwen is.... *hand motion*) etc. allat good stuff.

but i can't see that happening especially w the events of atsv, like there's definitely room for patching up the relationship but anything romantic between the two would feel forced as fuck i feel like. and maybe that's just me being an intensely passionate empath who likes to act like a nonchalant lil asshole, but still. i LOVE gwen, sony set her up beautifully for an amazing character arc that i'm so excited to see in the next one. HOWEVER, also this could just be me being an annoying little afro latina shit, she's not coming back from opening the collectible, going through miles' sketchbook w/o permission, and the shoes on the bed. that doesn't mean i HATE her i just can't look at her the same.

now a bitch is biased because black love is forever 🔛🔝, but also in the comics and video game miles has a black love interest. there was definitely also THE connection w/ miles and margo (however i'm also kinda in favor of prowlerbyte anyway--), and lil old me in the theatre was loosing it. i think that staying true to the aspect of black love interests is also going to be so important for the community, both comic/video game fans and black fans alike, mainly because of how black men interact with black women. speaking from experience i can't even count how many times i wanted to be the short lil white girl with blue eyes and blonde hair instead of the tall and awkward black girl with the wide nose and corkscrew curls. now here's where i think my personal bias kind of skews my opinion on this, but this franchise has been so important to SO many people. again speaking from experience, when i saw miles in atsv with the EXACT same hair texture as me i almost cried because no one in the history of ever has animated my kind of hair right and miles' hair was right. on top of this i saw so many little black boys practically tripping and falling in anticipation to see this movie in theatres. so i think i favor miles having a relationship with a black girl because this will reach such a new audience and possibly open doors for black men and boys to start treating black somebody and girls with respect. because if these little boys in the theatre see their like, idol for lack of a better word, treating black women and girls with respect i think then there's gonna be an aspect of healing within that.

i'm not really sure how well i'm communicating this, but i don't really think i can fully get behind the ghostflower ship. to me it feels really fucking forced in a way that kinda icks me out, however this is not to say i won't absolutely love the shit out of these two if it happens. in a way, this franchise feels like something the black community needs in several ways. like yeah this shit is pro black but FULLY pro black, not pro-black but anti gay, trans, or whatever the fuck. it shows blackness in a new way, artsy and nerdy but also really fucking cool at the same time and i never fucking got that as a little kid. like i kid you not the other black kids in school would call me a wanna be white girl. and to see someone with similar interests as me just sort of opens the world up??? like i visited my older sister at school in the dmv while wearing a spiderverse hoodie, and people actually wanted to talk to me about it!!! like not ina "oh i like ur sweatshirt ma" type thing like a "omg you like this movie too??" type thing and i just--

yeah i def strayed from the topic, but i hope our baby does get his lil black girl (or his lil gwen, from a big sisters perspective i don't hate her as a prospective partner i just think that there would need to be a clear breakdown in the difference of cultures. for example i was taught that anytime you meet anyone formally (like a parent or something) you shake their hand and or go in for a hug and kiss BOTH cheeks and talk about their home their clothes or whatever) but for like the sake of authenticity (sorry to be that asshole but come ON) but like.... flowerbyte 🥰🥰

did this make sense i feel like i word vomited like a bitch, idk maybe i'm projecting my personal shit into a franchise i really like

[skyartworkzzz]

Because you said you love rambeling about lore and you are looking for excuses to talk about it redeem this cupon for one free lore ramble, any topic

OH YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT U JUST DONE

SIT BACK AND RELAX CUZ THE GOATS UNIVERSE HAS BEEN IN MY MIND THE WHOLE WEEK + SOME HEKET RAMBLING Cuz I got her a partner idea hehehe <3

LONG RAMBLING UNDER THE CUT!!! (btw bless chu I appreciate u <3 )

ABOUT CULT OF THE GOAT AU:

About the Purple Crown: Ive been seeing a lot of interpretations of Goat's Crown going around and honestly Id like to put in my cents: I dont think the Crown being purple changes who the owner was, because the eye shape is still the same as Lamb's Which brings me to think that, just like how in COTL everything seems to be colored after warmer/reddish colors, everything in Goat's universe must be following cooler/purpleish palettes What does that mean to me? That ALL the other Crowns are of different colors as well, maybe a colder one compared to their original ones

Im still thinking about what each of them would be here but so far I like to think that Yellow -> Ocean green?? Green -> Blue Blue -> dark pink? Purple -> Cyan/White

I think the Crown shapes would still be the same + what each Bishop's domain would be as well

About Aym and Baal: They were never offered to Narinder. Shamura didnt have that compassion. They were so mad at their brother that they couldnt bring themselves to consider his feelings for being banished. Neither did any of the other siblings, for they wouldve been too busy fighting off Old Gods and hunting for empowerment

So where are Aym and Baal? Theyre alive! With Forneus! And both of them are lil jerks as much as their mother Taught to steal, lie and fight, all in order to survive no matter what. The twins have already expressed wanting to go out and explore the world, but Forneus refuses to let her kids go, much for her own selfish reasons of them being the only things that make her happy in this fcked up world AND because, of course, she loves them. She knows how cruel the world has turned into, she does not want to lose them Aym and Baal never met Narinder, and Narinder never met them Maybe eventually, while Goat is out in a crusade, they shall cross paths........as enemies

About the Purgatory: This is still smtng I am speculating about, but what I have so far: instead of it being MS to tell the Goat to free the Bishops from their deserved-suffering, itd be them asking the deity if such thing was possible, because Narinder wouldve been feeling bad about it He believes that his siblings could change over time, especially now that the Crowns were relinquished by the Goats power, and so they are allowed to have that chance This would unlock many scenarios of the Bishops actively trying to take over the cult, run away or kill the Goat + their followers. It is smtng Ill let cook for a while more

IF ANYTHING Id just- leave them dead lol they wouldnt be redeemable in this world (BUT BECAUSE I LOVE MY SKRUNKLIES EQUALLY ILL TRY TO MAKE IT WORK-)

ABOUT HEKET: Ehehehe I accidentally started shipping her with my follower OC Astrid so we'll see how it goes

Astrid is someone who keeps to herself for the sake of others; she is not used to opening up and oftentimes believes her pain is not worth of complains compared to others she is caring for However, she is very much talkative, maybe as a way to make her forget her problems Whilst Heket she- well. She cant. Talk much it hurts like hell UASHDNJASMDK

SO WE HAVE A TALKATIVE BUBBLY GF WITh her mostly quiet butch wife that shes constantly having to change the bandages of <3

I have a dialogue set up for them which I shall get to drawing a comic for as soon as I am done with thIS CURRENT COMIC-

ANYWAYS thats the ramblings for now, HOPE YALL LIKE THE IDEAS bless u again for givng me a free pass made me rlly happy MWEHE,,!! 💜💜💜

[soulmvtes]

the post you just reblogged abt moving on from people who love you. i just opened tumblr for the first time in like a month and it was the first thing i saw on my dash, and right this second i am chewing myself up and dying inside over a decision to leave a group of friends or not because ive been feeling unhappy amongst them….. i literally only opened tumblr as a distraction and saw that post. and i was agonising over how to proceed and honestly even having seen the post now im still unsure because knowing that it’s hard for everyone but it’s necessary doesn’t make it any easier ofc but i guess i feel slightly settled by the fact that im not the only one feeling this, and also the weird fate that led to me opening tumblr and somehow seeing something that resonates so deeply rn at this moment….. i still don’t know what ill do, whether ill leave the friend group or allow them to convince me to stay, but i guess i wanted to say thanks. for always being insightful and kind. I’ve been following your blog for years and it feels like a patch of sunlight that i can soak in. it’s very comforting and inspiring. and i guess it shows that even when you don’t think it will make a difference, or when you reblog something just for yourself… it still speaks to someone else out there too. thanks :)

oh..... <3 sending you so so much love and thank you for all your kind words! i get what you mean, and you're right there is a sense of comfort in knowing you aren't alone in a feeling even if it's something you're struggling with. we're all just in this together aren't we? i'm experiencing something similar actually and i don't think you ever really figure out what to do tbh. i think if you're in a space where you can verbalise your feelings to them, that could help to give you more clarification and if it doesn't go well or doesn't clear anything up or change anything, it may give you another answer. but i understand it's not always possible to verbalise things for many reasons in which case you kind of just have to make a decision either way and accept whatever happens. there's so many things we wish we knew or want to happen but it just doesn't work that way as you know unfortunately and perhaps there's nothing we can do about it. but i think it does get easier to deal with it if you surround yourself with love that eases you and considers you and builds with you. i hope it does anyway. i hope it does for both of us <3

[x-stephanie-sinnz-x]

Stephanie Love, or Stephanie Sinnz ?

As some of you may know , my husband and I gave up the hotwife lifestyle for more of a traditional christian lifestyle, and I/we have kept from any type of outside indulgence........

That is up until last week.

I'm not sure exactly how long it's been since we/I have done  anything outside of our marriage. The best I can guess is several months.

During that time I have been incredibly horny, to the point I'm soaking through my panties, and have been soaking wet during sex with my husband.

Last week I had off work, and with no money and no place to go, hubby and I just stayed home. During that week hubby and I engaged in sex as we normal do, but one particular night was different.

Lately when he cums, if he doesn't cum inside me, he'd pull out and cum on me.

The thing is his orgasms have just been kinda flowing out, not the usual lengthy shots I/we are accustomed to.

This one particular night I was in the missionary position and he pulled out and blasted his cum on my face and up over my head, hitting the headboard.

Oh wow! I said.

Both of us being pretty surprised, I asked him what that was all about.

He admitted to me, that he was imagining my soaking wet pussy was leftover cum from other men. 

 

After a long talk that night, we agreed to start back up into our old lifestyle, but we should probably take it slower this time, and maybe practice a bit more attentiveness and prudence.

The next day we talked about a cum and dump, a gangbang, a train, etc , due to the fact we had a full free week.

The only problem was that it's been many months and I wasn't sure I was in shape for all that. Not to mention, we had just agreed on starting off slow. Lol

I have many many phone numbers blocked on my phone, so that night I unblocked but only one, that one was Quincy. I made the call , and he sent me to voice mail.

Before I could even process what the fuck! He messaged and it read 'I'll call you back'.

Roughly 30 min later he called.

We talked for a bit and got the long time no sees and he missed me etc, out of the way.

He said he had a new girlfriend but he still definitely wanted to do something with me.

I explained to him the whole hotwife lifestyle I was living and the change my husband and I took, and he agreed to help out in anyway possible, including meeting my husband, coming to our house, letting my husband watch, etc .

We planned for the following night, and so hubby and I controlled our urge to have sex in anticipation for the following night.

The night of I/we where ready. I made the phone call, no answer, I messaged, no response.

It was at that point hubby and I gave up.

We sat around talking. My husband was trying to boost my damaged spirit by saying what a fool Quincy was, and what a great wife I am, etc.

Hubby suggested we watch a feel good movie naked in bed, then he was going to make sweet love to me.

Halfway through the movie,  I get a text from Quincy, 'sorry, im here now, is it okay?' it read.

Still naked I spang from the bed, opened the door and he told me that we had to be quick cause he told his girlfriend he was just runningto the store. He told me that he had just fucked her, and that she had just cum all over his cock.   Hearing him say that got me instantly horny and I knew I wanted to taste her cum. Entering the bedroom where my husband still layed, i introduced them quickly, and they made a quick "Hi" .

I pulled out his cock and started taking it down my throat as best I could (he is big, very big). He was right that he must have cum recently and I could taste that he had just been inside of a pussy. 

I licked him clean before hopping on top of him and riding him hard until the thought of him fucking me right after he fucked his girlfriend made me cum hard. After I came he lifted me up and down until he filled me up with his cum. He made me lick him clean before he rushed out of the car and back home so his girlfriend wouldn't know. 

The whole thing prob took only a few minutes but it was enough time to stretch me out and fill me full.

My husband waisted no time in ravishing my used body, and cumming super hard inside me.

Ps. The next day I made a doctors appointment because I was have pain and cramping down there.

I got a clean bill of health, but apparently I was hurting because his big dick stretch me out so fast, and the cramping was because his big dick was slamming my uterus.

Basically,  I'm just out of practice. Lol

[builtbybrokenbells]

Hate To Love You | ii

Read part one here

Read part three here

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 8.3k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, female masturbation, slight touch of (consenting!!) voyeurism, fingering (f!receiving), dirty talk, a bit of choking, unprotected sex (god please wear protection, im sorry i keep doing this), sex in a sort of kinda public place, shower sex, continuing to have sex while someone is talking to you ? Idk what that’s called but yeah, that, swearing, talking about toxic ex’s, fluff, angst, love triangle shit, sad Danny and Sammy (very much deserves a warning), sorry if I missed anything!

without further ado, here’s part two! Hope you enjoy :) also fair warning that this is actually kind of filthy by times 😭 I’m unsure of where that came from, but anyway. beware, this kind of has emotions all over the place. also disclaimer, I set this up as a terrible situation right from the beginning because for some reason i literally live for writing angst. i only started this fic bc i knew how i wanted it to end. it’s a character flaw now ig. please be kind and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!

~

Your heart drummed in your chest as your hand slipped around the doorknob, opening the door and sliding through the crack. You let out a sigh of relief when the latch clicked behind you with no interruptions. See, the plan was that there was no plan. Just you and Sam inconspicuously sneaking off at different times and hoping nobody would notice that you’d both magically disappeared without a trace. So far, it had worked out in your favour. And if it hadn’t, nobody had said anything yet. It definitely wasn’t the smartest course of action, but it was the one you were going with. You decided you would reap the consequences when they made themselves known.

You took a seat on the couch of Sam’s dressing room, crossing your legs and leaning into the arm. Their set finished in five minutes, which was your cue to get moving. In no way were you willing to be caught sneaking into his room by one of his brothers after they got off stage. You checked your phone to see if you had any missed messages, but the screen was blank. You pulled up your camera, checking your hair and makeup to make sure you looked good. You sighed as you clicked your screen shut, tapping your fingers against the leather of the sofa with growing impatience.

The boys has started a small tour, just for about a month, and it was wrapping up in the next week. But, the month had been too long for your liking. It had been weeks since you’d seen Sam, or any of the others, for that matter. They had a show booked for a venue a few cities over from where you were living. You had managed to convince their tour manager, which you’d met a few times in the past, to sneak you in the back door so you could surprise Sam. Guilt was creeping up on you for not telling Danny about your arrival, but you were desperate to see the boy who’d been occupying your mind for weeks on end. You loved your best friend, but Sam had somehow wormed his way into your heart and showed no signs of leaving. He consumed almost every one of your thoughts. He’d been plaguing your phone with messages of missing you, and some rather provocative voice messages and photographs. He was making sure you wouldn’t forget about him. Little did he know, it wasn’t even a possibility that you could. So, you packed up for the weekend when the chance arose, just so you could curb the need for his company for a few more days.

So far, to the best of your knowledge, he had no idea. Before you’d arrived that night, Sam had texted you his daily countdown of how many days were left until he could see you. You were quite confident that you were still in the clear. One thing you hadn’t really thought out was how you were going to leave the venue without anyone knowing you’d been in there. And also, how the hell you were going to sneak in and out of his hotel room. You’d worry about that later, though. All you were concerned with was seeing the boy who’d been occupying your mind every night for weeks on end.

You’d fully intended on telling everyone about your’s and Sam’s new found relationship the night it had begun. Somewhere along the lines, the plan was lost in translation. The sneaking around had become thrilling, to say the least. Pretending to hate each other like usual, but sneaking off to a bathroom to make out, sneaking touches when no one was looking or from under the table, or leaving parties ten minutes after each other to go back to Sam’s place, was kind of hot. Plus, the idea of growing the relationship together first, making sure it would last before announcing it to everyone seemed most logical in your brain. But, above all, you were terrified of hurting Danny by telling him. Realistically, you knew deep down it might hurt him more by hiding it, but you were terrified of being the person to cause him any sort of pain. This had been dragging on for months now, no end in sight.

You were jolted back to reality when you had heard laughing and shuffling from the hallway. You immediately sat up, straightening yourself out. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips, practically vibrating with excitement. You were eager to see his reaction when he came in. When the doorknob twisted, your heart could have exploded. The door pushed open and Sam stepped inside, not noticing you immediately. The door fell shut behind him with a thud. He was glistening with sweat, hair sticking to his neck, shirtless and barefoot. You had to stop yourself from giggling at the sight.

“Great show you put on, Sammy. Think I’d be able to get an autograph?” You asked sweetly. His head snapped up, eyes wide with shock. It took him a moment to process what was in front of him.

“Y/n?” He asked, still barely believing you were there. You jumped up, running over to him. He picked you up in a hug, kissing you as if it was the last time he ever would. You didn’t care if he was sweaty, you were just happy you were finally back in his arms. “What are you doing here?” He questioned, still holding you. Your legs were wrapped around him, his hands supporting your bum.

“I couldn’t wait any longer to see you, and I pulled some strings at work.” You whispered, kissing him again. It was soft, but imminent, showing him all the emotion you had pent up since he left. “I missed you so much, Sammy.” You whispered against his lips.

“You have no idea how much I missed you.” He said, resting his forehead on yours. “Does anyone else know you’re here?” He asked, gently letting you back down to the ground. You shook your head.

“As much as I love everyone else, I just needed to see you.” He understood what you meant, feeling the same way. “I drove here, so maybe I can just sneak out and meet you at your hotel once you get there?” You asked, hopeful. For the first time so far, sneaking around was much less than hot and way more of a pain in the ass.

“I mean, yeah, if you’d like to do that, we can.” He said, brushing some stray hairs from your eyes. “As long as I get to sleep next to you tonight, I’ll be happy.” He admitted. You couldn’t agree more.

“I just wanted to surprise you, I didn’t really think it all out too much. Five days just seemed so long.” You laughed, feeling a little dumb.

“That’s okay,” he rushed out “I’m more than happy to see you, trust me.” He let his fingers trail over your jaw, then down your neck and landing his palm on the back of your neck. He pulled you in for another kiss, much hungrier than the last. You could feel the shift in the dynamic before it was even over. “Bathroom, now.” He ordered once he’d pulled away. The sweet side vanished, quickly overpowered by desire.

“Why?” You cocked an eyebrow, challenging him.

“Because you’re going to get in the shower with me, and I’m going to fuck you.” He stated, simply. His eyes showed no hint of joking.

“I don’t want to ruin my hair and makeup. I prettied myself up just for you.” You smirked, knowing your disobedience to the order would get him going. “Don’t you want to appreciate it, first?”

“Oh, I have.” He paused, eyes looking you up and down. “I’m not going to say it again; go to the bathroom and take your clothes off.” He growled. You tilted your head to the side, staying in place, a sweet smile stuck on your lips. You always found it fun to mess with him. He was already tired of waiting for you, his patience never really existing in the first place.

“Make me.” Your cheekiness was quickly brought to a halt when he reached up, taking your throat in his hand. He was careful not to apply too much pressure, still terrified to hurt you in any way. He smiled, admiring the look on your face. He caught your lips in a kiss before tightening his grip slightly.

“I don’t think you want me to have to do that, sweetheart.” He whispered. You gave a nod, feeling your arousal pooling between your legs. “Now get in there and take your fucking clothes off.” You weren’t sure if Sam had normally been dominant in the bedroom, or if it was an extension of your relationship dynamic from almost the entire time you’d known him. Either way, you weren’t complaining.

He let you go, putting a little force behind it as he did so. You stopped yourself from stumbling and turned on your heels quickly, making your way to the bathroom without another word. You wasted no time ridding your clothes from your body, leaning against the counter to wait for him. You heard shuffling in the other room, presumably just Sam straightening some things out before he joined you. Your mind wandered to what he was going to do with you once he got you in the shower. You were out of your mind with anticipation; you had no idea how you went so long without having sex before Sam. Now that you were with him, it was all you wanted to do.

You couldn’t help but let your thoughts consume you, reaching a hand down between your legs for some type of satisfaction. You ran your fingers through your wetness, spreading it up to your clit, rubbing small circles. A gasp fell from your lips as you did so, but you couldn’t help but wish it was Sam’s fingers instead. You found yourself lost in the moment, not even noticing when the door opened until you heard someone speak. “You couldn’t even wait for me, princess?” A disapproving tone broke you from your concentration you quickly moved your hand, embarrassed to be caught. Sam moved towards you, now only clad in a pair of boxers. He grabbed your arm, roughly putting your fingers back to where they were before he’d interrupted. “I didn’t tell you to stop.” He reminded.

You watched him, cheeks flushed, trying to process what he was saying. His jaw was hard set, clearly worked up himself. Slowly, you returned to touching yourself, waiting for his approval. He took a step back, allowing himself full view. His breath caught in his throat. “Get up on the counter.” He demanded. You did as you were told without question, placing your hands on the cool surface and hoisting yourself up. You watched him watch you, feeling a knot form in your stomach. It had been far too long since he’d seen you like this. You placed your hands between your legs once more, but feeling a bit nervous being on display. “Don’t be shy, baby.” He said, reaching out and spreading your legs for you. “You wouldn’t have been touching yourself in here if you didn’t want me to catch you.” He said. Your eyes fluttered up to meet his. “Am I wrong?” You shook your head ‘no’. Although it wasn’t your original intent, a small part of you definitely wanted him to walk in on you. “Use your words.” He demanded.

“No, Sammy.” You said softly, feeling the anxiety slipping away.

“That’s what I thought.” His voice was gravelly. You could tell by his tone he was trying not to take you right there, but he was a bit too cocky to give in so quickly. “Get yourself off.” He ordered.

“Sam-“ you began to protest, but he cut you off.

“Shut up.” He snapped. You stopped, immediately scared that he wouldn’t allow you an orgasm at all. I said, get yourself off.” His hand was still on your knee. Although his tone was harsh, the loving circles he’d been tracing into your skin assured you it was an act. “Then, I’ll make you cum.” He assured you. “I just want to see how you did it while I was gone. Did you think of me?”

“Mmhmm.” You mumbled softly, picking up the pace in which you were rubbing yourself. “Wished it was you every time.” You mumbled.

“Oh so it was more than once?” Arrogance was radiating from him, but you couldn’t help but watch him with nothing but admiration. “Answer me, beautiful.” He said palming himself through his boxers.

“All of the time.” You answered truthfully. You let in a sharp inhale, feeling yourself getting close to your climax.

“I can’t wait to fuck you.” He admitted, hand trailing up your bare thigh. You could tell he was struggling not to touch you.

“You gonna show me how much you missed me, Sammy?” You wanted to put on a show for him, hooking your leg around his waist and pulling him closer to you. He let out a groan at your actions, tightening his fingers around your leg. “Are you gonna fuck me?”

“Don’t worry about what I’m going to do.” He spat, still rubbing himself, trying to get some relief. “Just worry about you. I’m getting impatient. If you don’t hurry up you may not get to cum at all.” You did as he said, quickening your pace and adding your fingers to the mix with your unoccupied hand. “That’s it, gorgeous.” He sighed, his eyes focused on your cunt. With the added stimulation of your other hand, you were painfully close to your climax. You threw your head back, closing your eyes and letting out a moan. Sam acted fast, grabbing your face in his hand and forcing your head back down. “Look at me. I want to watch you.” The statement caused your hands to stutter.

With his eyes locked on yours, gaze unwavering, you gave into the pleasure. Your orgasm hit you hard, way harder than it had in the past weeks. His eyes hardened, scared if he looked away from you, you’d disappear. Your own eyes rolled back in your head as you rode the high, desperate for air. “S-sammy!” You stuttered, almost as if you were praying to him.

“That’s it, baby.” He muttered, bringing your lips to his. He was painfully hard, already planning on getting you right off the counter into the shower. When he pulled away, you removed your hands from yourself, to which he immediately replaced them with his own. A strangled cry came from your mouth as his calloused fingertips brushed over your overly sensitive clit, but he didn’t stop.

“Sam, please,” you pleaded, trying to push his hands away.

“Stop it, you’re fine.” And he was right, you were. After a few moments of unbearable sensitivity, the euphoric feeling had hit you ten times harder. You were practically screaming your noises of pleasure, only fuelling him further. “Come on, princess.” He whispered, working his fingers into you. “I want you to cum like that for me.” And you did, clenching around his hand while crying his name. Tears were welling in your eyes as your legs shook, hips locked in a solid position. Your throat was hoarse, and you were sure the entire venue would have heard you if not for the concrete walls.

Just when you thought he would coddle you, maybe pull you in for a kiss, he removed himself from you completely. He walked to the shower, flicking the tap on. He threw his boxers away hastily and returned to your side. He didn’t utter a word as he picked you up. “Legs around me, now.” He ordered. You did as best you could to obey, barely being in the conscious mind. He stepped into the shower, still holding you, and pressed your back against the wall. The cool tile felt nice on your warm skin. He supported you with one hand while lining himself up with you with his other. He pulled you down on him, eliciting a groan from you. “Fuck I missed you,” he muttered, withdrawing his hips slightly and pushing himself back in. He stayed slow in that position, wanting to enjoy being close to you again without getting too intense. His head was buried in your neck, whispering sweet nothings while he sucked and bit marks into your skin.

“I love you, Sammy.” You mumbled, so fucked out you were barely aware of what you were saying. He paused his movement entirely, pulling his head away from you. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t-“ you rushed out, finally coming to your senses. When he dropped you to your feet, your stomach churned with anxiety. He didn’t say a word, but watched you meticulously. You were starting to panic, tears rushing to your eyes. “I’ll just… I’m gonna g-go.” You excused yourself, making a move to get out of the shower. He grabbed your waist, his fingers searing into your skin. He pushed you against the wall of the shower so your chest was flush, but pulled your hips back towards him.

“Say it again.” He barked, his hand now gripping your shoulder. He lined himself back up with you.

“What?” You questioned, unsure of what was going on.

“Fucking say it again.” He hissed.

“I- I love you, Sam.” You said with more certainty. He pushed himself into you, moving his hand to your hip. The steam from the heat of the shower was filling your senses, sending you back into euphoria as he started to fuck you again.

“Again.” He pleaded, all tones of assertion gone, replaced with a touch of desperation.

“I love you, Sammy.” You repeated, confident this time. His hips sped, pushing your face into the tile with every thrust. Something had taken over him, he was more animalistic with you than he’d ever been. You were driving him crazy by saying it. He leaned down, leaving love bites all over your shoulders, gripping you so hard you were sure he’d leave bruises. You let out a blissful moan as he hit your g-spot. He continued on at that angle, loving the noises you’d been making for him.

A knock sounded at the door just as you were both reaching your peak. You expected him to pull out, or at least slow down, but he continued on. “Brother?” Someone called out from the other side of the door.

“Yeah?” Sam yelled back, voice unfaltering.

“You okay, man? You’ve been in there for a while. We’re getting ready to head to the bar.” You could recognize the voice as Josh’s. You had been trying to stay as silent as possible, but Sam did not make it easy. He’d slipped his hand around to the front of you, fingers dancing over your already abused clit.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t feel too good, don’t know what hit me.” He lied so effortlessly that even you could have believed him if not for him being inside of you.

“Oh, okay, man. You think you’re gonna join us? Should we wait up?” He questioned. A whimper fell from your lips as he had hit the perfect spot. His free hand clamped around your mouth.

“No, you guys can go. I’ll be done here soon, then I’ll probably go to the hotel and call it an early night.” You couldn’t understand how his voice was so steady. You chalked it up to him singing and talking while he jumped around on stage.

“Okay, text us if you change your mind and we’ll let you know where we are.” Josh yelled.

“Will do!” Sam answered. He waited a moment until he heard the bang of the main door shutting, then he removed his hand from your mouth.

“What the fuck was that, Sam?” You whispered, still scared Josh would overhear you.

“You certainly weren’t complaining.” He muttered, slamming his hips back into you. You let out a gasp. “Actually, I think you’re gonna cum.” He said, smugly. He was correct. Damn him for knowing your body too well. He swirled his fingers over your clit a few more times before you unravelled, slurring out profanities. “That’s it, baby.” Sam groaned, not far behind you. “Tell me you love me again.” He ordered once you can down from your high.

“I love you.” You said softly, no tone of arrogance or anything other than honesty. He took a sharp intake of breath and reached his own orgasm, moaning your name and pulling you back down on him as it happened. He rested in you for a moment, just basking in the closeness. Eventually, he withdrew and you turned to face him.

“I love you, too, baby.” He said, eyes drooping with exhaustion. You couldn’t help but smile at the confession. “I love you so much.” He sighed, pulling your chin up so he could lean down to kiss you. “We seem to have a thing for fucking in bathrooms, though.” He stated once you broke apart. You both laughed at the statement.

You finished your shower with him, both of you slipping out and wrapping yourselves in towels. You dried off and picked up your clothes, making a move to go back to the main room. He followed closely behind, not wanting you to leave his sight. When you dropped your towel, he gave your ass a smack. You jumped in surprise, letting out a giggle. He went over to his bag and grabbed a hoodie and sweatpants, tossing them in your direction. “Here, if you’d like to leave undetected.” He smiled. You nodded, slipping on the bottoms. You had to cuff the sweatpants quite a few times and tie the drawstrings, but you made it work. You threw his hoodie on, leaving the hood up.

You revelled in the confines of the sweater, breathing in the scent. It smelled just like him and it warmed your heart. “You look good in my clothes.” He said, pulling on another pair of his pants. That was one thing you had to laugh at, Sam packed a bag like a middle aged woman on vacation; two outfits for every occasion. He grabbed his wallet from a pile of his things and opened it, pulling out a hotel keycard. “I got two at check in, cause I always end up losing one.” He chuckled. “Guess it really came in handy, this time.” He handed it to you. “The room number’s written on it too.” You slipped it in your pocket.

“Guess so, baby.” You said, giving him a smile. He leaned down to place another kiss to your lips. You held him there for a moment, never wanting to lose the feeling. When you pulled away, you let your hand rest on his cheek. “I’m gonna head out, try and avoid everyone.” You informed him.

“Sure,” he said, pulling you into a hug. “I’ll be there soon. Be safe.”

“I will, Sammy.” You said, making your way to the door. “Oh, uh, can you bring my clothes back with you?” You asked, suddenly embarrassed at your earlier interaction. A blush rose to your cheeks. He laughed at you, nodding his head at your request.

“Of course.” He followed you as you left, leaning against the doorway as you walked out. He watched you make your way to the exit, smiling to himself.

“Hey, who’s that?” A voice sounded from beside him. Sam looked to see Danny standing, watching you walk away, too.

“Oh, uh, just some chick from the front row.” Sam brushed it off. “Asked security to pull her back here before she left.” He lied quickly, trying to cover his own ass.

“Ah, I see,” Danny said. “And you let her take your clothes home?”

“Yeah, just old shit anyway. Figured I’d never miss it.”

“Uh huh,” Danny paused, knowing that the clothes in question were some of his favourites. “And how do you think y/n would feel if she found out you were fucking groupies?” Sam nearly choked on his breath, whipping his head to look at Danny.

“What?” He asked, in disbelief.

“Come on, man. We all know. You think you guys are being sneaky, but we know you both way too well.” He chuckled. “Just wish you guys would have told me, you know?” He said before he walked off.

“Wait, Danny!” Sam called to him, but he wasn’t turning around.

“Also, you guys are obnoxiously loud.” He said before disappearing around the corner.

“Fuck,” Sam muttered to himself, turning on his heels and walking back into his room.

•

You pushed through the door of the hotel, taking in the sight of the front lobby. It was beautiful. You didn’t have too much experience with hotels, or travel. Your parents were quite poor growing up, and you never really broke the curse as you grew into adulthood. Hotels and anything of the sort, no matter if they were five star or not, were quite luxurious to you. The lady at the front desk gave you a warm smile as you passed by. You mumbled a hello, returning her gesture. You went directly to the elevator, pressing the button to go upstairs. The doors swung open, inviting you inside.

You looked at the paper holder containing the keycard, seeing the room number written messily on the outside of it. You clicked the floor number and waited. You laughed at the messy penmanship; Sam could be so forgetful by times. Luckily, this time around, it really worked in your favour. The ding of the elevator broke you from your thoughts. The doors parted and you stepped into the hallway. Your legs carried you down the hall, eyes scanning the bold black numbers labelling the rooms.

You landed in front of the room that matched the number on the card, swiping the key in front of the sensor. The electronic lock clicked open and you stepped inside. Upon first inspection, it was so blatantly clear that this was Sam’s room. His cologne was still present in the air from before he’d left for the venue, a towel was left on the bathroom floor, and a few different outfits were strewn on the bed. The blankets were messy and the pillows were all over the mattress. You smiled to yourself, dropping your bag by the T.V. stand and immediately crawling in the mess of pillows, pulling the blanket over you. The pillowcase smelled like Sam’s shampoo, inviting you in and lulling you to sleep. It had been far too long since you fell asleep surrounded by him.

Without even realizing it, you drifted off into a slumber more peaceful than any you’d had while he was away.

About thirty minutes later, Sam was unlocking the door himself and making his way inside. He dropped his own bag by the door, kicking off his shoes. When he looked to the bed, his heart melted at the sight of you. He walked over, carefully sitting on the bed beside you. He ran a hand through your still damp hair, gently brushing out any knots. As you began to stir, he leaned down and placed a kiss on your head. You let out a small groan, slowly coming back to life. You stretched out your legs, taking in a large breath as your eyes fluttered open. “Well, hello, sleepyhead.” Sam said softly, hand still tangled in your hair. “Have a good nap?” You couldn’t help but smile. It had felt like an eternity since you’d woken up next to him.

“Would’ve been better if you were here.” You whispered.

“Good thing I’m here now, then.” He said. He wasn’t sure if he should tell you about his interaction with Danny earlier, not wanting to disturb the peacefulness of the reunion. He knew he’d have to eventually, but right now just didn’t seem like the time for it. You opened your arms, reaching out for him to lay beside you. “Just a second.” He promised, standing up. He took off his shirt leaving himself just in his sweatpants. You watched him, silently admiring him as he moved. You made a move to take your pants off, wanting as much closeness with him as you could get. You tossed them onto the floor beside you, scooting over a bit to give him some more room to climb in.

He picked up the comforter, sliding in next to you and wasting no time pulling you to his chest. The warmth of his body immediately relaxed you. “I know I already said it, but I missed you, Sammy.” You mumbled, eyes closing once more.

“I missed you too, baby.” He said, his hand snaking under your far too large sweatshirt, caressing the skin on your hip. “I promise I’ll take you out on a date when we get home, I just want to be here with you tonight. I want you all to myself.” He admitted.

“Me too,” you agreed. You both sat in silence for a moment, not moving, just soaking up each others company. Eventually, he pulled you on top of him, settling you between his legs. Your head rested on his stomach, your arms brought to your chest, curling the blanket up to your chin. He played with the ends of your hair, letting the locks fall through his long fingers.

“Did you mean what you said, earlier?” He asked.

“Which part?” You asked for clarification.

“That you loved me.” His hands worked their way up to your scalp, gently massaging it. You let out a hum of pleasure at the feeling.

“Yeah, I did, Sammy.” You whispered, your own hand now moving to his stomach, tickling his skin with your fingertips. The muscles in his abdomen flexed at the contact, causing a small giggle to fall from you. “Of course I did.” You added. “I was scared that it was too soon, you looked almost… mad when I said it. But I meant it.” He laughed quietly at your words, finding it ridiculous that you thought he’d be mad at you.

“I wasn’t mad, y/n. Shocked, yeah, for sure. I wasn’t expecting you to say it.” He admitted. “But I’ve been waiting to hear you say that since the day I met you. If that was the only thing you said to me for the rest of my life, I’d be happy.” His hand that wasn’t knotted in your hair came down on top of yours, lacing your fingers together. “Why would you think I’d be mad at you?” He whispered now, gentle with his tone. You stayed silent for a moment, unsure of how to answer him.

“I don’t know… I guess I’m just so used to my past boyfriends being mad at me all of the time. I suppose it’s just in my nature to expect you to be mad, or assume I did something wrong.” You confessed. His heart leapt at the use of the word boyfriend. That had not been discussed yet, but he certainly didn’t mind the sound of it. On the other hand, he was curious. He’d never heard you talk much about your former partners.

“You can talk about it, if you want.” He didn’t want to pry, but he did want to know more. He gave you the option to tell him or not.

“I don’t know, Sammy.” You sighed. “Not much of a story, I guess. I’ve only had one other boyfriend. He was a dick. I dated him all through high school and moved in with him after graduation. He was mean and I didn’t know that it wasn’t how I should be treated. I didn’t know anything else.” A frown encased his lips. “He never let me go out, or have any friends. He wanted me to do anything he wanted whenever he wanted it. He always wanted to fight with me and according to him, I could never do anything right. That’s how I met Danny, actually.”

“What do you mean?” Sam never actually got close enough with you to know much about you in the beginning. He knew you were beautiful, funny and kind. He knew you adored Danny, but not why. He knew enough to fall for you, but he really wanted to know you, now. He wanted the little things constantly stored in the back of his head so he could use them as needed. He wanted to know what made you, you.

“After a particularly bad fight, I went to a bar to get some cheap liquor.” You laughed at the memory. “I’m not sure why, but it seemed right at the time. I barely drank back then. But Danny showed up, he was just finishing up with you guys at the studio. He sat beside me and bought some god-awful looking beer.” You shuddered at the thought. No matter how hard Danny tried to convince you it was good, you couldn’t stand the taste of it. “He introduced himself and noticed I’d been crying. He talked to me all night, wanting to know everything about me. It was the first time I’d ever felt…” you pondered for the right word. “Seen.” You finished. “He was the only person in my life by that point, who’d ever cared enough about me to want to know everything. And he barely knew me.” You had to laugh.

Sam felt a rush of jealousy flood through him, but he pushed it aside. “He offered me a place to stay because my boyfriend at the time told me to get out, and that he never wanted to see me again. You know why?” You asked.

“Hmm?” Sam mumbled, still listening intently.

“A male coworker sent me a friend request on Facebook.” You whispered. “It was bound to happen eventually, and I had an apartment lined up just in case. Things had been really bad for a while. But he just kicked me out, he didn’t want to hear anything I had to say. Just opened the door for me like I’d meant nothing to him for six years.”

“That’s terrible, y/n.” Sam consoled you, pulling you closer to him as he spoke. ‘I’d never do that to you.’ He thought to himself.

“Yeah, but I never would’ve ended up here if it didn’t happen.” You reminded him. “But Danny came with me as backup to get my shit from his house. He helped me move into the apartment I live in now. We got wine drunk together and the rest was history. He didn’t care that I was broken. He didn’t care that I had no idea how to make friends, because I was never allowed to have them. Just wanted to be with me.” You shrugged. Sam tried his best to just hear your words rather than think about how Danny felt about you, but he was struggling. “You know, I prayed for months that something would happen, anything to make life better. And he showed up that night. Just waltzed in and changed everything in an instant.”

“You love him, don’t you?” Sam couldn’t help it. The jealousy was surging through him. He wanted to listen to you talk, but his heart was breaking at the words you were saying. You lifted your head to look at him, noticing the expression of worry.

“Yeah, of course I do, Sam.” You were honest. “But it’s never been like that for me.” His body relaxed slightly. “Danny was always meant to be my best friend. He’s been the person I looked for my whole life. Someone to do stupid shit with, to make memories, to be my kids godparent, I love him more than anything, but I’m not in love with him, Sammy.”

“I’m sorry, I know that. I just… yeah.” He muttered. “I just get nervous, I guess. I know how he feels about you. I know how much he cares for you, and you for him. It’s hard to think that he could steal you away at any given moment.” He laughed quietly, more to himself. “You know, it would’ve made so much more sense if you ended up with him. He deserves you way more than I do.” He said, guilt seeping through his pores.

“It was never a matter of ‘deserving’ anything. If I wanted to be with Danny, I would be. I’m in love with you, and I always knew it would end up like this. The minute I met you… it was like all of the bullshit from the past didn’t matter. The pain from the last relationship didn’t hurt, because it brought me to you. It made it all make sense, you know?” You sighed, fingers still dancing with his. “I know we treated each other like shit for a long time, but I always knew. From the minute I saw you, I wanted to love you, to be in love with you. I wanted this, exactly what we’re doing right now.” His heart drummed against his ribs, threatening to break them. He couldn’t believe how much you affected him.

“Me too, baby.” He sighed. “All I want to do is love you; I’m sorry that I was an asshole for so long.” You sat up, moving around to sit on him. You straddled his waist, pulling his face in your hands and running your thumb over his cheek.

“We’re here now, aren’t we? Isn’t that what matters?” He smiled at your words, putting his hands on your hips.

“I guess so.” He agreed, catching your lips in a kiss. “I’m so lucky to be able to love you.” He breathed as you parted ways. “I want to know you. I want to know everything about you; I want to make sure that you know how you deserve to be loved. I hope I can do it properly.”

The sentiment of his words hung over the room like a cloud of serenity. You two enjoyed the alone time, rolling around in the bed, sharing kisses and laughs. You played music softly in the background, singing along to songs that had no meaning to you until that night. The evening dwindled by too quickly for either of your liking, slipping into the late hours of the night and eventually to the earliest ones of the morning. You wanted to live in that moment forever, where nothing was wrong and it was just the two of you making up for lost time. Sam made it so easy to fall for him, with his sweet words, loving touches and fantastic sex. He treated you better than you ever could have imagined a partner doing. The months of romance felt like an eternity; you felt like you’d known him like this your whole life.

Eventually, exhaustion enveloped the two of you and the music that was once fuelling your energy turned into lullabies. Sam was on his side, facing you with his arm draped over your bare torso. Somewhere in the events of the night, you both had ended up naked, but not resulting in a sexual motive. The intimacy of being completely exposed with no intent of sex was beautiful. It was just the two of you seeing each other completely, loving each other fully. Your eyes were drooping, barely being able to hold them open. His were similar, but he was forcing himself to stay awake so he didn’t miss a second of admiring you. His eyes on you, holding so much emotion behind them, felt like pure bliss. Being appreciated by Sam was the greatest feeling you’d ever experienced.

“I love you, princess.” He whispered, voice laced with sleep. “So much.”

“I love you, Sammy.” You said, the words coming straight from your heart. You were sure that you both had said it a million times that night alone, but the novelty of the phrase was too exiting to stop. Finally, the proclamation of emotion you’d both been feeling for so long was in the air, accepted and desired.

“I’m gonna take you to breakfast in the morning, before you have to go. Just me and you.” He promised. You smiled at his words but your chest ached at the realization you’d have to leave him again the next day. Although the time between now and seeing him next was much shorter than the one previous, you didn’t want to be away from him at all.

“I’d like that.”

“Me, too.” You laughed at him, barely awake and still trying to hold a conversation. You had both closed your eyes, finally giving your bodies a chance to rest, just minutes away from sleep. He pulled you closer to him, your head quickly finding its way to the crook of his neck. You drifted to sleep to the scent of him, finally feeling at home.

•

A violent knock on the door shook you both from your slumber. Neither of you had moved from the position you’d fallen asleep in. You both ignored the first knock, figuring it was one of the boys coming back drunk and wanting to chat. “Go back to sleep, baby.” Sam mumbled, clearly not caring about who was looking for him. You tried to do as he said, but another burst of loud knocking pried your eyes back open.

“Sam, open the fucking door!” You were upright now, immediately recognizing Danny’s voice. Sam groaned, reaching out for his phone.

“It’s 4 in the morning, man, go to bed! We can talk tomorrow!” He shot back.

“I know she’s in there, Sam. I just want to talk to her.” Danny pleaded. You could tell he was plastered. You could hear it in his voice. Your heart was racing, panic encased on your features. Sam gave a look to you as if to say it was okay. He rolled out of bed, pulling on a pair of pants as you searched wildly for clothes for yourself. You threw on the clothes Sam had given you earlier, crawling back in the bed and hoping that Sam could convince Danny to go back to his room. Sam wanted that, too, hoping you would just talk to him in the morning, when you were both sober and in the right state of mind.

Sam shuffled to the door. You heard him open it a crack before speaking again. “Just go to bed, Danny. You’re hammered.” Sam sighed, trying to reason with him.

“You’ve both been avoiding me for months and lying to my face the whole time. I’m done. I’m sick of waiting for you to decide to tell me the truth.” Danny snapped. Your stomach twisted in a knot, palms breaking out into a sweat. He knew. He’s known all along.

“Hey, stop, man. It’s okay. We can talk in the morning.” Sam muttered, obviously still half asleep. You didn’t understand how he was so calm about the whole thing. Sam made a move to try and shut the door, but Danny pushed it open again, not done with the conversation.

“Just let me talk to her, please.” Danny said again. “I know she’s in there. I saw her car outside.” Danny was pushing back on the door as Sam tried to hold it closed. “You can’t keep my best friend from me.” Something in Sam snapped at his territorial marking, not liking it in the slightest.

“Okay, fine, in the morning!” Sam was losing his patience. “I’m not letting you talk to her while you’re drunk and pissed off.” Sam was being overly protective, not willing to budge from him stance.

“I’m not going to fucking hurt her, asshole.” Danny argued. “She’s my best friend, Sam. I have to talk to her.” With a final push, Danny got the door open and stepped in the room. Sam sighed, stepping down and out of his way. Danny walked in, his eyes immediately landing on you. He stared for a moment, watching you sitting in Sam’s bed, wearing his clothes, looking scared. He felt a wave of hurt enveloping him. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, unsure of what to say. He’d gotten his answer already. He already knew what he would find, but he was hoping he was wrong.

“Danny,” you started, but he’d already turned to walk back out. Your heart shattered, but you pushed it to the side. You were not the one that should be upset in the situation. You jumped out of the bed, following after him. Just as he was rounding the corner into the hallway, Sam grabbed your wrist to stop you from following. “Let go, Sam.” You warned.

“Y/n, just wait until the morning. We’ve waited this long, we can wait one more day.” He begged.

“That’s the problem! We never should have waited this long to begin with!” You cried, still trying to shake yourself from his grip. “We lied to him. I hurt him. I’m still hurting him!”

“This isn’t a good idea, you’re both upset-“

“We’re going to be upset either way! I need to make it right with him before it’s too late. He’s my whole world, Sam.” You pleaded with him. Sam’s eyes darkened at your statement, once again feeling that pain he’d felt walking into Danny’s apartment the year before.

“What about me, y/n? Am I not part of that world, too?” He said, hurt dripping off of his words.

“What? Of course you are Sam, what do you mean?” You scoffed.

“I mean exactly what I said. This is just like it was in the beginning. No matter how many times we fuck, or how many times you say you love me, he’ll always come first, right?” You opened your mouth to retaliate, but found no words coming out. “That’s what I thought.” Sam rolled his eyes. “You wanna go talk to him? Fine by me.” He dropped your wrist. “It doesn’t matter what I think, anyway.”

“You’re jealous now, of all of the times you could’ve been jealous? We did something to hurt him and you’re pissed off because I want to make it right?”

“No, I’m pissed off because it seems like I was right the whole time. You may not have been fucking him, y/n, but he will always be the most important person to you. He says jump and you’ll do it, no matter how high. No matter who’s begging you not to.”

“Sam you’re being ridiculous.” You scowled, feeling the months of hatred and vicious words coming back.

“It’s four in the morning, y/n. He shows up drunk and wakes us up, barges in here and doesn’t even say a word to you, and you’re chasing after him. Im asking you to stay. I am begging you to at least wait until the morning, when he’s not drunk and you’re in your right mind, but you refuse to see that maybe that’s the most logical thing because like I said a million times before, he comes first, before anyone else. It. Will. Always. Be. Him.” He annunciated his words so harshly that it caused your blood to boil.

You couldn’t believe that after everything you’d told Sam, every memory and sweet word over the last few months, everything that you’d professed to him that night alone, he could throw this out the window so easily. Tears welled in your eyes, begging to be shed. You loved Sam, but he always seemed to be the one to know exactly how to break your heart. You thought that he’d changed, that him being an asshole was just one big misunderstanding, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe Sam would never change, no matter how much you hoped he would. “I’m not fighting with you over this, Sam. Not again.” You said, completely defeated. “I could go into the next room and spit on him, even kick him in the face and you’d still try and argue that I’m in love with him. You didn’t believe me when I told you the million other times, and you never will. I’m done fighting.” Your voice broke.

“If you leave,” he paused, eyes angry but you could tell it was covering sadness. “If you run out there after him, I’m done, y/n. I can’t always feel like I’m in second place.”

“That’s your problem, Sam. You’re trying to beat him in a race, but you guys aren’t even competing in the same one.” You took a step towards the hallway. “Oh, and if you’re genuinely giving me an ultimatum, whatever this is, ends here. Because if you make me choose, I will never forgive you.” You said, back turned to him now. You couldn’t see it, but a tear fell down his cheek, too. He didn’t answer, just watched you teeter between the hallway and his hotel room, hoping you’d turn back towards him.

“You say that because you know you’d choose him.”

“If you make me stay, we’re done.” You whispered.

“I guess we’re in stalemate, then.” He replied. You closed your eyes, praying he’d say something else, that he would change his mind. Instead, you were met with silence. You looked back at him over your shoulder, wanting to see him one last time before you made up your mind. The sadness in his features implored you to stay, to hold him and tell him you only ever wanted to love him, but the anger towards him that was brewing in your chest was overwhelming. “Please, y/n, come back to bed with me.” He tried one last time. You checked to make sure you’d slipped your phone and your car keys in your pocket when you got up, relieved when you found that you did.

“I love you, Sammy.” You whispered. His eyes glistened with hope, thinking that maybe you were going to stay. As soon as he’d let himself feel it, it was quickly shattered. You had stepped into the hallway and slammed his door shut, not even waiting for him to say it back. He stood, staring at the doorway where you’d been standing just seconds before, not knowing where to go from there.

.

Don’t worry!! It doesn’t end here, there will be a part three! 🫶🏻

[sugar-omi]

oh my GOD SELF AWARE COVE HAS SO MANY POSSIBILITIES IM GONNA BE THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR AGES

JUST- the thought of Cove slowly realizing he’s going through a loop over and over and over and with every loop the MC starts to look and feel stranger and more far away to Cove and it’s driving him INSANE. Cove starts to keep track of these loops and notices that sometimes things get ever so slightly different or drastically different (say the players deciding to romance a different character or is doing a 100% platonic playthrough etc etc)

THE WHIPLASH COVE WOULD FEEL WHERE IN ONE LOOP THE MC IS ALL LOVEY DOVEY THEN IN THE NEXT THEYRE COLD AND INDIFFERENT TOWARDS HIM CAUSE THE MECHANIC OF COVE FEELING THE SAME WAY WOULD JUST BREAK UPON HIM BECOMING SELF AWARE

Cove having to deal with the feeling of closing his eyes as an adult only to open them and see he’s 8 years old again. What the hell just happened???? He was just at his own wedding with the love of his life and now he’s suddenly a crying child back on the poppy hill!!

AND THEN- and then Cove paying more attention to the MC as the loops go by and seeing them fade into this weird uncanny husk, they’re starting to feel more like a puppet than a person, and it terrifies him. What’s going on??? Are they okay?? Why is this happening to them????

Soon enough as he looks at the MC he finally notices and realizes that the MC “never existed”. This whole time the person he’s spent basically his entire life with never existed as someone in Coves world. No, instead they’re just a projection of someone else. Who? Coves not sure, but he feels like that whoever it is they’re the person who he’s actually been falling for over and over again.

And at that realization he come to the conclusion that he needs to meet this person beyond the veil, and he needs to meet them now.

This got kinda horror adjacent I apologize I got carried away-

NO THIS IS PERFECT

it tears him apart every time bc if you choose to romance someone else or not befriend/romance him, he can't say anything different since he doesn't have control over the system and he doesn't wanna alarm you

so he's forced to feel indifferent to you, and even in between he can't talk to you bc you're not real, the "you" that's here isn't interested in cove, and if "you" do take interest in him it's bc of the system, and everything is set in place as always

slowly he works out how to get to you, and he's leaning over you in his buff/lean, (tatted,) 6+ foot glory and teary eyed, asking why you keep playing with him, experimenting on him like this, making him watch you confess to baxter after he's loved you for 15 years. asking why you'd make that deal n choose his best friend derek over him.

well, it doesn't matter anymore. you can be together now, don't worry about his life in sunset bird, you can just build a life together just the two of you for now!!!

he actually prefers you like this compared to the game. you can say whatever you want without limits or prompting. and he can see your expression, hear your voice, actually touch you...

oh, and please don't go anywhere without him if possible or look at other men, fictional or real, with interest. he's everything you need, you've made him to fit your needs every time. you've came back to him hundreds of times in the end, so if you see smth you like on another man, cove will change his style, look, or behavior so just stop looking else were.

unless you can't, then he'll have to punish you. make you look him...

don't worry, he won't hurt you! he really could never do that, no matter how broken or.. well, twisted. he is

just wants to make sure you remember you're his, and he is yours. so if he makes you sit in his lap for hours, making you trace his face and body and features, telling him everything you love abt him inside and out, then just do it.

and if he decides to punish you in other ways, you can handle it right? you've played his 18+ dlc's multiple times, you read all those dirty stories abt him and you always kiss him n grope him when you can in the main game

he just wants to love you, and be loved by you for real. so indulge him a bit, won't you?

[farolero-posting]

hmm. Proto + B (i think im understanding that post right)

B = under cover of darkness.

So, anon. I have good news and bad news. Good news is I have an idea I've been rotating. Bad news is that it may take like 3 or 4 chapters to complete and... it won't be a happy ending.

Would you still like to try? Here, have the first chapter and maybe I'll get motivated to finish the rest soon.

Development

Chapter: 1/?

Words: 2477

Summary:

Silver can't help but notice a few odd things about the messiah, in the brief time they've met. At their request, she goes to investigate. What she finds may have unexpected consequences.

Read on AO3 here.

(full work below the cut as well)

Silver’s eyes were fixated on the board, her attention going from the cornered king, to her opponent’s pieces, all placed in strategic locations to ensure their victory. She kept replaying the last moves a few times. This was perplexing. She used a more straightforward strategy for this game, but she wasn’t trying to lose.

“Robot lady?” The child sitting in front of her spoke. “That is a checkmate, right? Did I win?” 

She looked up. The savior kept their hands covered, but from their posture, leaning over the table, Silver inferred they were eager to get up and celebrate, waiting for the robot’s approval. 

“Yes. You won.” She remembered to shape her face into a smile. “Not many have achieved that.”

“Woah! And I did it without help!” They looked to their right, as if listening to a distant voice. “And god says they’re proud of me.”

“That’s a good thing.” She said plainly. 

Some may call it pride, but Silver wasn’t fully convinced of this outcome. She was intrigued, rather, that a child that didn’t have much experience in the game could have won against her, who had advanced strategies built into her code, and a winning rate of over 95%. 

Something else popped up in her mind. The messiah seemed confident in their steps. She had watched them fix a solar battery on their own, movements as precise as her own. She watched them hold the amber she gave them with a look of slight recognition.

So she had to speak.

“...Niko? Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?” They nodded their head excitedly, as they helped to put the pieces back where they belonged on the board.

“You said you haven’t played much chess, didn’t you?”

“Uh huh. Only with some kids in my village. They say I always get distracted and I lose my knights…”

“You didn’t lose either knight in this game,” Silver pointed out. “In fact, you always countered anything I tried doing. How did you do that?” 

“Oh I… don’t know.”

“You don’t?”

“Uhm… It’s like I just saw what to do!” Niko shrugged. ”Like… when you see a very familiar place and you know exactly what to do!”

“Pattern recognition?” Silver offered.

“I guess? It’s… weird. This isn’t the first time it feels that way. It felt very strong when I went to the mines earlier.”

“When you had that hallucination.”

“I still think it’s a short dream.” Niko shook their head. “But I still saw something! The yellow light was there! On the tunnel!”

Was there? Silver hadn’t seen anything when she brought the messiah there, but she couldn’t recall ever staying in that area for long. Besides… 

Well. After the power generator ran out of energy, she had assumed that any robots without a personal power cell would be inactive. It was far more likely that whoever had decided to go into the mines was following some inflexible programming that nobody could stir the right way, rather than doing so on their own volition. She didn’t think there was a point in visiting the mines after that.

Still, the possibility that this child saw something was non-zero.

“Hmm. That is intriguing.” Silver placed her hands on the table, as she motioned to stand up. “I’m not often driven by curiosity, but… is there any other thing that seemed strange to you since you appeared in this world?”

“Uhm… this… journal I woke up with.” Niko took out a book with a black clover on the cover. They opened it to reveal different pages. “I tried reading it but I couldn’t.” They raised their hand and clarified. “I can read most books. I just don’t know this language”. They flipped a few pages. “There are also a few drawings? And some pages are torn…“

“Give me the journal.” Silver pressed her finger on a page. She couldn't understand the writing, but she could recognize the layout of the room. “That’s… the entrance to the mines. And this page… It looks like an observation room, but not one I have visited.”

“We could go take a look?��� the child suggested. 

“No. It’s a safety violation for you.” Silver replied. “But… I could go on my own.”

“How will you do that? We never saw a minecart!”

“I’ll walk.”

“On the tracks?” Niko gasped, eyes looking down at Silver’s feet.

“Yes, the magnetic rails will hold me in place.” Silver stood up, and touched the journal again. “Do you want me to take a look and tell you what I find?” 

Niko nodded. 

“Can I take the journal, to give it a closer look? I will return it.”

“Okay…”

“Stay here, then. Will you be okay on your own?”

“I think so. I’m not alone.” The messiah said, sitting on the metallic bed nearby.

-

Silver took the lone phosphor lamp that sat by the entrance to the mines, she remembered replacing the shrimp in it just a few hours ago. 

She took out the journal to look at it again. It was just like one of his friend’s usual travel logs. But then… he wouldn’t rip off parts of his journal, would he? Silver couldn’t remember an instance where that had happened. She guessed it could be a particular project of his. The design and materials looked exactly like the books she had seen her friend carry, so they had to be related.

Silver opened the page depicting the mines’ entrance. She didn’t know her friend had wanted to draw the cave. Why would he? He seemed to strongly favor outdoor locations. She turned the page to look at the observation room’s sketch. It seemed smaller than usual. Besides the usual computer terminals, there was a vaguely drawn box with writing next to it, but she couldn’t read it.

She couldn’t even recognize the writing system.

The robot wasted no more time, and stood on the rails. 

The pull on her legs was strong, making her stand steady. She took careful steps, lowering the lamp so she could detect any damage on the railings. They were… in an unnaturally good state, especially the further she walked inside. She could have attributed it to gas vents, but the mines never had such problems. She was expecting bending or missing pieces from earthquakes, but there was no sign of damage. Still, she could take the time to look into that later. There is no point in fixating on something that isn’t a problem.

The tracks led to an observation room. She took the journal again, and was motioning to place the lamp in a good position to take a look when she noticed another lamp on the floor, intact.

Intact, the lamp sat next to a box.

A box she recognized as a power cell. 

Her head turned as she scanned her surroundings, then faced left, to an entrance. As she walked towards it, a figure stood by it. 

A robot with a singular bright, yellow eye stared back at Silver. The rest of his shape was covered in shadow.

“It’s… you,” she stated. “The robot who insisted on going back to the abandoned mines.” She moved her lamp closer, to get a better look of the individual in front of her.

The robot looked away from her, scanning the room on his own, then simply replied: “You are not who I am meant to speak to.”

“Pardon?”

“I can’t speak to you.” 

“You just did.” She noticed the robot’s antennas tilting back, but she couldn’t discern what that meant. 

“My interactions are limited at the moment,” he explained, looking aside. “How did you get here?”

“I just walked here following the rails.”

“And what made you come here?” He pressed on, his eye piercing through her. 

Silver held the journal in her right hand, not easily visible to the robot in front of her. Her grip tightened. 

“I was asked to investigate here, and report back on what I found.” She saw the robot’s eye shrink for a split second.

Silver was choosing her words carefully, as she was trying to decide her next step. She was told to look out for this robot, right? Her friend said so back then, too. There had to be a good reason for that, and the situation was already proving to be different from her expectations. 

“Where is the savior right now?”

Silver froze, still staring at the robot. Did he know? She noticed his design, paired with his clothing, and came to a conclusion.

“You are a Prophetbot.” If that was the case, then she assumed his programming was that of a messenger, and would explain the prior questions as a standard screening process.

“Correct.” He was unfazed. “Where is the savior?” He insisted.

“They’re by the lookout point, in my house. They requested me to come here, as they can’t make the trip here without a vehicle.”

“So it may not be time yet.” Something felt somber in that statement.

“What?”

“Did they have a journal?”

Now she was intrigued. 

“Yes. I have it.”

“Please give it to me.” 

The Prophetbot took it, and with careful motions examined it, rubbing the black clover on the cover with his fingers. He waited, but whatever he was expecting to see happening to the book did not occur.

“I don’t have anything to say to you. You should just give it back to the rightful owner.” He returned the book.

“You…” Silver sighed, running out of patience. “Can you explain what this is about?”

“I don’t have a protocol on how to proceed in this scenario.” 

Silver scoffed. “Did they really have to design multiple robots with such basic programming? If this was my creator’s idea…”

“I would not know.” As she stopped her complaints, he continued: “A lot of my memories have been removed, limiting the information available to me.”

“That seems unethical.”

“It was voluntary.”

“Then it’s unwise.”

“A backup still exists nearby.” The Prophetbot pointed towards the backroom. Silver could see the faint light of a monitoring wall, and another computer terminal. “If the system is updated, then one should be able to retrieve it and install it into my main drive.”

Silver stepped inside the backroom, passing by the Prophetbot.

She recognized the tracking system as soon as she saw it. The head engineer read the note next to it, likely made by another one of the workers. She could recall every single building, as she had visited them in every waking cycle, despite nothing changing save for a few stray square anomalies. 

She never skipped a round after the guardian of the area lost their arm to them.

She quickly updated the information on the device, and the terminal next to it sent out a notification of completion. She walked towards it, read the text on the screen and turned back to the robot. He stood, frozen in place by the entrance.

“Don’t you want to install the backup?” 

“I…” He closed his eye. “This is conflicting. The conditions haven’t been met.”

“But you need it.” Silver sighed. “At this point, I don’t know exactly what I’m expecting from you, but it doesn’t seem like staying in this state is productive for either of us.” She rested her back on the wall. “At least, having the missing information would let you look for any… protocol of yours.”

Click. The Prophetbot retrieved a disk from his forehead, and stared back at Silver.

“I see. We can reach an agreement. I will do it, under one condition.”

“Which would be?”

“Give the journal back to the messiah. Do not mention my presence.”

“Why not?”

“I have limited information, but I know it is vital that they continue as usual. Just… say you found some empty rooms.”

“What about helping them? Is that outside of your programming?”

“Someone else already did. It would be redundant.”

“You can come back here once they leave.”

“Alright. I will be back.”

–

Back in the lookout point, the messiah had placed the sun in a corner, and placed a few boxes to prevent it from moving. They’d gotten bored, and had decided to take on the task of cleaning around the robot lady’s cabin. 

A framed photo had caught Niko’s attention before. Would it be too rude to take a look at it? 

The child used the nearest chair in order to reach for the frame, carefully grabbing it. They recalled a time where they had a picture of their first day of school printed, and how their mom had helped them hang it on the living room’s wall. They carefully removed the dust on the house as they shared this story with their invisible companion. 

In what seemed like just the right time, the robot lady arrived, carrying the journal with herself.

“Oh! You got here so soon!” Niko sprinted towards her, hiding the frame within their pockets. “So, how did it go?”

“Without novelty.” 

The robot’s answer was quick, and she seemed unfazed… though that’s probably expected for robots, right? Niko wasn’t sure how well that logic worked, but it seemed good enough. 

“Did the journal help you with anything?” They took it as she handed it, shaking her head. “Oh. I thought that would do something.”

“I didn’t find anything outside the usual machinery.” Silver scanned the room.

“But what about the yellow glow?” Niko insisted. “Did you find the source? Maybe there was a mirror!”

“Where’s the photograph?” The robot looked past them. Niko felt their guts drop.

“I’m sorry! I have it with me!” Their hands shivered as they took it out of their pocket. “It looked dusty so I wanted to clean it up for you a bit. To… thank you for the favor you did?”

The lady gave them a smile, she didn't seem upset. “I see.”

“I… think I know why you don’t clean it up though.” Niko looked down. “You can’t really make out the face of the person with you in the photo. They have a cool jacket though! Not my style but I know a neighbor who’d love it.”

“I rarely saw him wearing anything else. Though, I think he had two of them.”

“Is this your friend? The one that wanted to study the tower?”

“Yes.”

“He seems awesome!”

She didn’t reply. 

“I… wasn’t able to help you. But this journal… may be related to his research. I’m not sure what place it has in your journey, but it’s important that you keep it. Take it with you. Maybe show it to someone else and see if they can help.” 

“Do you think so? What if they can’t read it either?”

“He wouldn’t write without an intended recipient. Someone will. Off you go now, there’s nothing else for you to do here.”

“Thank you for everything! Goodbye, huh…”

“Silver.”

“Goodbye Silver! I’ll remember you.” 

“Goodbye, messiah.”

[not-goldy]

Heyy! just found your acc and I am absolutely loving it here. idk if you'll read or reply to this but im writing this just because im kinda disheartened seeing some of these jikooker's behaviour. like i get it, we should always be open to the possibility of jikook being in a relationship with someone else but to see them dropping jikook in a matter of seconds after one shady grainy video drops is just... some are still adamant that jungkook does infact have a girlfriend. I've been seeing so many "jikook broke up", "jikook just bros", "jikook poly", "jikook were just fck buddies" it feels like these jikookers are just heavily insecure and somewhat believe certain taekookers' theories as they've been going off about how jikook haven't been close in 2023 and they are no longer 'glued together' just because we don't see it.

its like they were just ready to drop jikook and found this video issue to be the perfect opportunity lol....i honestly don't know where im going with this dkdkdjflkdjf but yeah. i dont think it was jungkook in that video (pretty obvious if you ask me) and I'll keep supporting jikook. jikook's bond is so different than all the other duos in bts and them not dating would be more shocking than them dating each other. ig these jikookers don't wanna act how taekookers did in the whole taennie situation but that's the thing this jungkook thing is in NO way similar to the taennie proofs we got. we got HD pictures and saw their managers in their video ffs.

also the acc that posted that video on weibo went on to post a clearly fake edited video of "jungkook" roaming around his apartment when asked why don't they have more videos of jungkook if they had so much access to jungkook's apartment, and had their lie get debunked so yeah. mindless rant over i guess. JIKOOK FOREVER.BTS FOREVER.

I almost logged out but since you love it here I love it here too🤭

You see right there- even if it was Jungkook in that video it is not conclusive of anything. It's just back hug. Looks like a younger boy worrying his Noona to me and if it wasn't then we need to talk about a little things called consent. Sis looked like she could use her personal space.

Besides, if it were him, nothing special there. He does that with every one. Almost all BTS members. I remember a video of Jimin asking him what he was doing clinging onto him behind him.

He did it with the tattoo girl and said there was nothing between them. How could this have been any different?

I feel people aren't used to seeing him interact with girls that much so they get uncomfortable getting glimpses of him around girls.

They will tell you he is the handsiest member of bts but then turn around and act flabbergasted when he gets handsy with anyone that's not their bias.

I'm glad he put those fake rumors to rest.

If that video was him that would have amounted to some heavy charges cos why we peeping at people's homes with cameras 🥲

The creepy things obsessed fans do and the lengths they go to give me chills. No respect for his privacy whatsoever.

He has friends other than jimin. He has FEMALE FRIENDS as well. People need to get used to that fact and stop acting like a disturbed beehive whenever the topic comes up.

He has female friends cousins acquaintances dancers assistants etc and he has a unique dynamic with each.

The entire Fandom needs to grow up.

For now I'm just embarrassed for them. Imagine cooking up a lie that didn't even take 2 secs to be shut down. The audacity they had to come into our dms trying to convince us we are making excuses for him and not accepting facts meanwhile the delulu ones were them all along.

And they seem to forget some of us are part of the groups they meet at to cook up these elaborate narratives just to stirr up shit. They dumb as fuck.

[blinkvlink]

theory time!

so. after today's ask about how rebecca lied about not knowing the details of rook's death, something i thought about before became more clear:

the supernatural rogue leader is rook's sister, i think all of us already suspected this for a while. there are many evidences that support this.

first of all, we know whatever the detective's eye color is they take it from rook, who has a twin sister. and falk mentions that the detective reminds them of her. not them, or him, her and he specifically mentions the detective's eyes.

secondly, at the end of book 3, the figure leaves a knight piece on rook's grave, which in a chess board is right next to the rook, possibly directly referencing their once close relationship and a nickname that rook himself gave to his sister. however the person who places is it there is reffered to as they in the text. there is two ways this could go, one: the figure is not the supernatural leader but their child because not only do they share the same color as their potential mother and the detective, they refer to the detective as 'the rook i was always meant to have.' or two: it's just a way for sera to keep up the mystery and not immediatly reveal the person's identity (which im %99 sure she is saving for the end of book 4)

the rest of the entire theory is placed upon this, so beware.

now, if i come to the main thing im focused on. i think rebecca knows exactly what happened to rook. i think rook was killed by his sister either direcly or by the people she sent, and rebecca knows this. she knows very well that the leader of the rogues is the detective's aunt.

something that supports this is that when the detective mentions the leader of the rogues after the talk with falk in book 2, both adam and rebecca reacts in a worried state. adam jumps to say that the rogues do not have a leader. while rebecca doesn't say anything.

perhaps because their worries come from different sources.

also, mind that this scene takes nearly right before rebecca's lie about she doesn't know how rook died.

now, one last thing, as to why i think rook's sister might have killed him.

there is a human sera mentioned a few times in some of the asks, who can travel the dimensions as they please. i think this is rook's sister, and when she was assumed dead, she was simply in the echo world. where she became a supernatural.

then, she came back and while i don't have the reasoning for this, she hated the agency and loathed everyone who worked in it. she then tried to convince rook to think the same way, but once he refused and she saw how connected he was to rebecca, she killed him.

now, the leader sees the mc as the rook she can have, as the detective could be open to manipulation. even if your detective gets along with rebecca, rebecca's knowledge of the aunt's existence could easily break this by default, leaving the detective open to be possibly convinced.

and this, i believe, is the entire angst of book 5. learning how rebecca knew a very important part of detective's life, yet said nothing. the aunt constantly trying to pursue the detective, presenting themselves as a family member, but possibly having much darker intentions.

i believe if rebecca is ever going to die, it will be in book 5 as well. possibly killed by the aunt.

anyway this was long enough, so i will just leave it at that. hopefully it all made sense lol.

[paalove]

(you) always take it further than i ever can: 7! 9! 26! I am obsessed with this fic conceptually!!!!!

ask game'

oh man i have the word doc open for this behind the browser im typing in rn, actually!! my grown up akkayan 💖🌒☀️🙈

...

7. What inspired the idea for the plot?

so, this was a prompt, but specifically the prompt was for fake dating akkayan! i was stuck on that idea for a year, because there's the one option of, like, post-canon, theyve broken up but they want to convince their friends or someone theyre still together - nice and angsty etc, except i absolutely hate post-break-up fics for the majority of pairings.

like, nothing against the genre, but i find that when it comes to fic, either the reason for the breakup is too big (leaves the rest of the fic trying to justify the relationship, which isn't what i read shipfic for sdkmsdkmds) or it's too small in a way that tends to contradict the characters' canon development.

and otherwise i couldn't think of many scenarios where either character would end up fake dating anyone, honestly. akk lies, sure, but he's all tormented about it, most of the more tropey scenarios don't really fit. buuuuut aye does go undercover, in canon, and i realised i could lean more heavily on that... so then there's the question of why would he ever go undercover with akk, without already being in a for-real relationship with him?

and that does indeed lead into...

9. Was there anything from canon that you pulled for this fic?

my rule for different setting aus is that the characters and the plot need to rhyme with canon as closely as possible. like, universe alteration, canon divergence things, they can go apeshit, but if im writing a mafia au or a werewolf au or a vampire au or a superhero au, i need to be in conversation with canon, you know?

(zombie apocalypse sandray au and not me-as-until we meet again are the biggest exceptions i can think of!)

so this isn't everything, but, quickly: undercover ayan seeing far more than akk wants him to, akk implicated in something he desperately doesn't want to be, akk feeling like he doesn't have an escape, ayan wanting to be that escape, akk wanting that so desperately he can't trust it...

and of course, akk&wat&kan hanging out in akk's bedroom being stupid 🥰

26. Wild Card! I'll tell you a fun fact about this fic!

“I’ve been busy, but me seeming to date won’t mess up anything,” he returns to Ayan’s question. “We can make the posts.” Ayan nods. “Make the posts,” he repeats, seeming to fold down his smile so it’s almost invisible. Akk shifts in his seat.

aye is making fun of him for acting like an old man here, but akk is relatively online, he knows he's phrasing things badly - it's just that he's tripping over his own tongue dksdkmsdm