#I am so melodramatic and idk how not to be help

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[bunny584]

OBSESSED: TOJI

A/N: You’re booked. Busy. Filled to the brim with board meetings. Then your car decides to stop functioning. There’s one mechanic shop open and somehow they seem to only hire God’s sweetest eye candy. One of which keeps getting stuck in the back of your throat. Uh—I mean—

S/N: Toji Mother-Fucking (literally) Fushiguro. Idk why it took me so long to feature this green-eyed monster but I am foaming at the mouth for this AU, him, and his lil vampy co-worker. Toji girlies, can’t WAIT to rush Toji Tau Sigma this fall 🙂‍↕️

C/W: ….he’s his own CW. Mature, 18+. MDNI. 

Art credit: yashaliart_01 on insta

Music: for the love of God if you don’t listen to Obsessed x Mariah Carey I’m calling the coast guard. Reader wants to pretend Toji is not her newest vice so BAD. Ive never laughed so hard and been so painfully turned on writing a piece. SOMEONE tell me not to make this a series RN.

“Can I get a little help here?”

Toji grabs the rag nestled in the back pocket of his heavy work cargos. Charcoal ink stains the fabric. 

Bugatti engines are such a bitch. And make a mess like one too. 

“Hello? Am I talking to a wall or..?”

And just like that, you’ve earned yourself a few more seconds of silence. 

The mechanic’s Evergreen gaze and satisfied smirk peer back at him in the mirror. Not even a second passes before you ensnare him in your fiery scrutiny. 

Ahh, yes. Just his type. 

You are mean. 

With a sexy fucking silhouette. An angry merlot painted on those beautiful, pouted lips. A fresh manicure and keys to your Benz dig into hips that have definitely stopped traffic. 

The mirror image isn’t enough of a bite. Toji needs a real taste, so he turns around to lock eyes with his new favorite unsatisfied customer. 

“Mornin, doll.” 

“Nice of you to grace me with your presence! I was starting to think no one worked here.” 

Melodramatic, the way you narrow your gaze to bring his name tag into focus. It’s hot, though. All this sarcasm and irritation. 

“—Toji? Is it?” You hiss venom. Clearly there’s a point you’re in a hurry to make. 

But..

it’s 7:13 AM on a lovely Monday morning.  Birds are singing. The Red Bull he just downed was particularly delicious. Life is good, right now. 

Toji has all the time in the world. 

He’s in no rush. Especially when a stunning, uptight, bratty little thing — sorry, career woman — like you woke up and chose him to be your personal punching bag. 

And he’s built to take hits. From fists much, much larger than yours, gorgeous.  

“Toji, it is. What can I do for you, darlin?” 

And he knew that sweet, innocent pet name would dump diesel fuel all over those pretty flames. 

You ramble off your full name as if he is going to use it. By the time he’s through with you, you won’t have any use for it either. 

His name, though. You’ll have plenty use for his name. 

“…and when the stupid thing turns on this morning, the dash light won’t turn off.” 

Toji lands on earth just in time to clasp the car keys shoved into his chest. You’re gawking at him. Expecting a fury of motion and urgency. Because your charming little fingers demand it. 

So accustomed to time stopping and starting on your watch, aren’t you? 

“You’re so pretty.” Toji responds with a shit eating grin. 

Just for the huffing and puffing you’re currently displaying. Sputtering about how unprofessional he is. And how much work you have to get done. 

Adorable. 

Toji slips past your disdain and makes his way to the front door. Matte black G-Wagon with a champagne interior. The vision of you behind the wheel, scowling at traffic, in your tailored dress and stilettos makes his cock twitch. 

“She’s a beauty.” He calls from the driver seat. 

“That’s why I bought it. Can you please pick up the pace a little?”

Both arms are folded across your chest, eyes rolling at his wasted breath stating the obvious. 

You’re going to look phenomenal when he has those defiant arms pinned above your head. He’ll diminish those daggers in your eyes to tears. And make those puffy lips whimper for mercy. 

Toji will have you begging him to pick up the pace in no time. Your snarky comment was just a test run. 

The mechanic lets out a low chuckle, his eyes scan the dash for the source of your apparent distress. 

The tire pressure gauge. 

Really, gorgeous? This is why you’re screwed so tightly this morning? 

It should take approximately 3 minutes to fix. But there’s no way Toji is letting you slip away from his skilled fingers so easily. Not when you need to be unwound.

Unraveled bit by bit until you’re a warm, sweet, puddle of manners and gratitude. 

“Alright, babydoll—“

“My name is—“

“I’ll have my guys get to workin on it, sweetheart.” 

He can play this game all day. You scoff. Temporarily placated by his promise of a fix. 

“It’s an all day job, though.” Toji’s right hand man comes into view. 

The only other guy in the shop (on the planet) to get as much play as he does without meaning to. 

Women are insane about his stupid, empty-headed, love-drunk stare. And the purple rings around his eyes like the last time he got sleep was in his mother’s womb. Always giggling and asking about “the hot one with the pigtails” and “the pretty one with the tattoo on his nose.”

If he were a less confident man, Toji would’ve called someone else over. But the kid gets his antics. 

And today is going to be stuffed with them. 

“Choso! Can you take this beauty to the back for repair?” 

Dracula’s first born is sporting his hair down today. Already a bit damp from work. He gives you a once over, then offers a smile that evaporates underwear off of women. 

“Happy to. Which beauty am I taking to the back?”

“Ha, quit your lover boy shit.” Toji teases, and you sneer at his hypocrisy. 

“The car, big guy. Have it ready by 5:00, yeah?”

“5:00 pm?” You do a thing with your hands eventually landing on your hips. And Toji’s dick leaks like a virgin. 

“Well, there must be a courtesy rental. My first meeting starts in an hour.”

“I’m so sorry, miss. We don’t have that.” 

Kamo, you slick fuck. 

Choso apologizes with his signature puppy-eyes and half open mouth. Even you, made of sharp words and soft curves. Goddess of Fire and Ice, you melt under his gaze. 

Toji snickers to himself, while you stutter to a shockingly patient understanding. 

Something about the boy looking half asleep and like he can’t string letters together to spell his own name always does the trick. Leaving you wide open for the kill. 

“Tell you what, sweetheart.” Toji moves in with an assassin’s expertise. 

“Consider me your courtesy rental.”

“I’m sorry—what?” You flicker between the two smiles, rightfully suspicious. 

“I’ll get you from point A to point B, safe and sound.” The mechanic offers again with a broad smile, dangling his own car keys in his hand. 

Pensive eyes drop down to your watch. Board meetings start soon and he is offering a courtesy ride. 

“Fine.” Finally, a little submission. 

“It’s a 10 minute drive. The high rise on the corner of Koen and Mitake street.” 

The financial district. No wonder why you’re so tightly wound. 

“I know exactly, where we are going.” Toji beams. Beating your slender fingers to the passenger door. You barely mutter a ‘thanks’ before settling into the seat. 

You in your heels. And suit jacket. And handbag that costs enough to feed a large family for 6 months. Nestled so perfectly into his passenger seat. Toji can’t help but acknowledge how hard his dick is right now. 

The career woman clearly doesn’t approve of how fast he is hurling down corner streets. But you should understand, no? Places to be, and all that jazz?

“Uh, I’m sorry, where exactly are you taking me?” You perk up. Darting those beautiful warm eyes at the very short building in front of you. 

Not the corner of Koen and Mitake street, but Toji’s favorite coffee shop about 3 blocks over. The only place in the city that can get an Americano right - La Parisian. 

Toji grins maniacally. Pulling his sports car into a front row spot. 

“Point A, darlin.”

“Look, I don’t know what kind of game you are playing but I swear—“

“C’monnn. Lighten up.” He turns to face your incredulous expression. You wear it well, by the way.

“People stand when you walk in a room.” He continues. “They’ll still stand if you’re 5 minutes late and properly caffeinated.” 

Silence. Two huffs. A bitten lower lip. And one long, drawn out sigh.

“Fine. 5 minutes, max. Then I’ve got to get going I have—“

“Meetings baby, I know.” Toji finishes you off. 

He steps out of the driver’s seat fast enough to be at your door before your fingers touch the handle. 

The two of you walk in stride (in Toji’s mind) to the cafe. It’s adorable how you beeline towards the pastry display. Salivating over the various treats. Doing the thing women do, badgering the person manning the register about nutritional details. 

As if your figure wouldn’t make any living red-blooded human being fall to their knees. 

“What can I get started for you?” The barista probes. 

“I’ll have a soy London Fog latte, please.” You flicker over to the dessert you think you’re leaving behind. 

“And?” Toji probes. He taps the glass in front of the vanilla macaroon.

Another crack in the shield. You flash him a genuine smile for 0.04 seconds before turning back to the register.

“…and a vanilla macaroon, please.” You’re cute when you’re sheepish. 

“And I’ll have the largest iced Americano you can make, thanks.” 

Toji closes out the transaction and you two mosey over to a small table by a window. Your shoulders relax with the first sip of coffee. 

A satisfied grin tugs on your chauffeur’s lips. He knew what you needed the second he laid eyes on you. 

Much to your chagrin, and Toji’s delight — conversation flows like a bottomless well between you. The second something warm and another thing sweet landed on your tongue — the shield crumbled down. 

You’re an account executive. 

You work 80+ hour weeks. 

Live in an uppity neighborhood with a Doberman named Rocky. You got him because you like walking around at night to clear your mind. Having a dog taller than you on its hind legs and probably twice your size has eased your anxiety about that. 

You have a mean sweet tooth. 

And you’re single. Have been for the last year or so. 

“And not looking to change that anytime soon.” You reiterate, tossing him a look. 

Toji holds his hands up in feigned defeat. “I wasn’t plannin’ on it, sweetheart.” 

You’ve warmed up to his pet names, albeit against your will. But you’re there. The both of you harmonize light-hearted laughter. Fitting together like missing puzzle pieces.

“Your eyes are so green.” 

A rather obvious observation of your own, after a few moments of comfortable silence. 

As if your eyes don’t bend time. 

Toji catches his breath before responding. 

“They are…your kids could have ‘em too, if you want.” 

You burst into another fit of giggles. Unknowingly driveling rogue pastry on your chin. Babbling on and on about how ridiculous he is. And how cheesy his pick up lines are.

Meanwhile, you’re sitting there all high powered and intelligent. With a smile that makes him want to be a better man than he is. 

…and pastry all over your chin. 

Yeah. 

He’s going to marry you one day. 

Toji reaches over and swipes the macaroon off your chin. A sharp gasp tumbles from your lips, staring at his fingers. Which Toji slips into his mouth. 

He’s a betting man and would put money down on the fact that the dessert tastes exponentially better off of your skin. 

“Toji!!” 

“What else can I do for you?” Each word more smug than the last. 

“You could’ve told me I had food on my face!” Bunny lines along your nose deepen when you frown and Toji’s cock throbs to life. 

“Why?” The mechanic shrugs. “I wanted to lick it off instead.” 

The choppy inhale is music to Toji’s ears. You avoid him. Like the plague. Peeling your gaze away and planting it on the side window. Under the guise of people watching. 

But Toji knows better. 

He doesn’t miss the way you struggle to swallow your last bite. Or your thighs coming together so aggressively beneath the small table, rip tides break the surface of his Americano. 

“I felt that, baby.” Toji leans in. Shameless about the way he scans your face. 

Your lips should be outlawed.

The bottom one is marginally fuller than the top, so it naturally hangs a bit open. Inviting the most vile thoughts from his cock. Toji’s rational mind went to sleep the second you climbed into his passenger seat, princess. 

“What?” You sputter, gulping down the rest of your U.K. cloudy cappuccino, or whatever. 

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” Your voice is steady, but the fidgeting and cagey eye contact hold the truth. 

Oh, really? 

“You’re squirming in your seat.” Toji counters, unblinking. Filling as much of your personal space as he can without tipping over. 

“Quick to cross your legs—“

“Toji!” 

Is your underwear as sticky as your face is flushed? Saliva pools in one direction, warm pre-cum pools in the other. 

“You are so out of—“

“All that talkin’ and you haven’t denied it once, doll.”

Toji’s palm digs into his crotch underneath the table. You are fucking his brain smooth with the raspberry blush along your nose and high cheeks. Sure, the sarcasm and ball-busting is hot, but this? 

The Career Woman suddenly so flustered and shy? 

You’re already thawed out. All he needs to do is dive in. 

Toji blinks back to reality when you rocket up from the table at warped speed. Your fingers clumsily fondle the zipper of your purse. 

“Excuse me for a minute.” You’re halfway to the restroom stalls by the end of your sentence.

The mechanic lasers down to the serpentine curve of your hips. Your plump, perky ass is just begging to be handled. It’s a felony, the way your work dress hugs your body. 

Is he really going to do this?

Heat slams into his groin. Wave after wave of lust slowly chipping at his teetering self-control. 

You might slap him. 

Call him a goddamn pervert. 

…and just the thought of either of those things makes his dick beat against his zipper. 

Fuck it. 

Toji is slick, how he maneuvers his way over to the restrooms. Both single-use stalls occupied, he walks up to you muttering some kind of pep talk to yourself. 

“Get your shit together.” You spit out. 

Amused, Toji leans against the wall behind you. Curious about where this cute little speech is going to go. 

“He’s a rando you met at a mechanic shop. For fuck sake, are you that horny?”

“Sounds like it, baby.” Toji takes the liberty to answer. You whip your head around and crawl out of your skin. 

Eyes wider than a newborn kitten. Mouth gaping as if you’re trying to show off how much you can handle. Toji swallows a groan. He can’t lose control. Not a chance. He has to savor his first taste of you like this. And every taste after that. 

Because, the weather in Hell is a balmy 0 degrees Fahrenheit and you are his, now. 

“I—uh, I—“ Your eyes dart over to the poor soul opening the bathroom door in slow motion. 

You think you’ve found an out, gorgeous?

Toji is faster and bigger than you are. Gripping the handle of the open door, ushering you into his new lair. Still choking on the shock of him catching your admission, you look to your left and right before diving into the empty bathroom. 

“Toji I…” 

Your back hits the wall and eyes settle on your hands. Shifty and nervous. Toji palms himself at the sight of you caged in like this. 

He’s disgusting, he knows that. 

And normally, he would ask permission. Being a gentleman and all. 

But there’s something too alluring about the way you’re trembling right now. The obvious conflict written all over your face, and heaving chest…and tense thighs…

His cock can’t take another second. 

And apparently neither can you. 

Because the second his fingers cup the back of your neck and his breath grazes your mouth you crash into him. Slotting your puffy lips into his, taking him by surprise for a millisecond. 

“Oh, T-toji.” You whine into his mouth. Grasping at his shoulders that are far too wide, far too muscular for your dainty grip.

Fucking, christ. 

Hearing his name like that. 

The gorgeous, high-pitched, pathetic plea trails down his ears to his aching sex and jerks it. If his cargos were any lighter you would’ve seen the pre-pubescent mess he’s making in his pants right now. 

But they aren’t. And you don’t. 

You mewl at how Toji nips at your bottom lip. Sinking it underneath his teeth until its swells to his liking. Melting beneath his large grasp, currently riding the dizzying lines of your hips and ass. 

“You taste fucking good, baby.” Toji mumbles into your warm cavern. Licking along the warm, soft ridges. 

“Ah-T..god.” You pull away and dive into his neck. Attempting to hide your utterly fucked out daze, but he won’t let you. 

Toji palms your ass with a tenth of his strength. You yelp and jump into his arms. He takes advantage of the momentum and lifts you high on his waist. Temporarily forcing you to look down on him.

Glassy eyed. Kiss abused lips. Panting and heaving. Cupping his face like your hands were made to. 

And something tight clenches in Toji’s chest. It takes a moment for him to shake it off, but it existed.

He’ll revisit that later.

“You look good up there, babydoll.” He pants, before setting you down on the sink ledge. He catches your chin in his hand before you turn away. Rooting you in place. 

“I…Toji.” 

Moaning his name like you’re begging for him to start and stop all at once. 

Your eyes descend to his lips. Watching the smirk blossoming across his face. Distracted enough not to notice his free hand shove up your dress in one swift motion. 

Your thighs recognize his authority and melt wide open for him. He kisses your tiny whimpers while nestling between them. 

“Mmmgh g-god please.” 

“This why you were so bratty this mornin baby?” 

Toji’s index and long fingers stroke your soaked, clothed core. Thin lace panties plastered to your warm sex. You wind your hips into his fingers. Batting your eyelashes up at him as if he’s going to give you what you want so easily.

He hovers his lips over yours. Pulling away each time you lunge forward for a kiss. Pouty and frustrated, you dig your nails into his neck and grind along his stationary fingers. 

“T-Toji, please…I’m so..ahh.”

“Needy cunt just wanted some attention, mm?” 

His fingers slip past your opening, and you offer up a soprano moan that shatters to stardust. 

Hedonistic noises fill the spaces between both of your punched out gasps. You’re fucking tight. Gummy, slick walls clamp down around his knuckles when he curves up to pet your pleasure spot. 

The steel pipe between his legs throbs against his thigh. Demanding friction. But one hand is cupping your chin and the other is so pussy drunk an army couldn’t pry his fingers away. 

“T..I—I’m oh fuck I—“

Toji bites down on your bottom lip. And you clench around him. Gushing more of your sweet arousal into his palm. And he damn near laps it up with his greedy tongue. 

“Shhh baby,” he coos against your jaw. 

“Can’t have everyone hearing the Executive getting fucked open by some mechanic’s hands can you?” 

There is a delicious irony in you treating him like a punching bag no more than an hour ago and now bucking your hips on his fingers, chasing an ever elusive high.

Sandpaper lines Toji’s throat. 

He wants nothing more than to bounce you on his cock in this bathroom. Fill you up with his cum and send you to your meetings full of him. 

But you haven’t learned your lesson yet.

“What did I promise baby?” Toji strains in your ear. His hand migrates from your chin to your neck, while his fingers ‘pick up the pace a little.’

His pretty little powerhouse. 

You babble a chorus of nothing. Unable to breathe, unable to think. Only drip. And leak. And squelch around his digits. Toji tightens the grip around your pulse point. Lulling your mouth open.  

“Talk to me, princess. What did I promise you?” He probes again, stealing air from your lungs. 

Tha—y-you would…p—point A.” Barely audible syllables tumble out of you. Ascending in pitch. Your hips reflexively try to pull away from your threatened orgasm.

“Keep going, I’m listenin.” 

“Oh fuck T..Toji?! I-Im c-im gonna—”

“I know, baby.” He smears wet kisses along your jawline. “ I can hear how messy your precious little pussy is. But I didn’t give you permission to stop. Keep going.”

Your walls spasm at his command. Followed by an angelic pitiful little whine. You’re close. So close. 

“P-P-point A to—“

“Point B.” 

Toji finishes your sentence as you reach nirvana. Full body convulsions. He slots his arms around the small of your waist. And it fits like it was molded for him. Like you were sculpted for him.

And he, for you.

The mechanic burns his gaze into your skin. Riding each choppy wave of your ecstasy. Such tiny, sexy sounds. Staccato breaths fanning his lips, his chin, his neck when you try to hide from his scrutiny. 

You are a goddamn dream. 

And his future wife.

Toji guessed it when the macaroon balanced on your chin for a full 30 seconds before he swiped it away and you accused him of defamation of character. 

But now? 

Watching you saddle this stallion of an orgasm. Clawing at his back with all the desperation of a pretty little damsel in distress. 

Distress at just his fingers, alone. 

What intoxicating melody will he unlock when he laps up the honey straight from your core? How will you gasp and moan and squirm when he single-handedly re-shapes your cunt to accommodate his size? 

He has no clue. 

But Toji will spend forever figuring you out. And mastering you.

The back of your neck fits beautifully into his grasp as he coaxes you from hiding. Pupils blown out. Cheeks flushed and warm. Tendrils matted along your forehead. Before he can speak, you beat him to the punch.

Of course you do. 

“I’ve decided,” You pant. The baseline spice returning to your grin. 

“That you might just be obsessed with me, Toji.” 

Both of you share a hushed laugh. Exchanging cotton candy breaths. But then his lips accidentally brush yours and Toji can’t help but dive in for a kiss. Fucking the warm cavern of your mouth with his tongue. 

You pull away before he’s ready, with a look on your face that makes him feel like a God. 

“I might be.” Toji whispers, partially against his will. His lips find the corner of your mouth. Careful to avoid falling victim to your pout again.

“Let’s get you to the other point B, baby.” 

The car ride to your office could make anyone queasy. 

Constant banter back and forth. Full bodied laughs. You mindlessly stroking his forearm with those angelic fingers riling his cock up as if it just now discovered women. 

You let out a small sigh, with slightly dropped shoulders when your office building comes into view. Toji doesn’t know how to interpret it. But for him? Reality is coming too quickly.

“So,” You start once the both of you are out of the car. Pretty face tilting up and Toji’s dick strains against its confines.

“What do I owe you, Mr. Fushiguro?” 

The way you say his name.

It takes the will of God for Toji to bite back his original response.

“Nothin, doll.” He’s wearing the same, dumb, love-struck face Choso wears on a daily basis. Shockingly, Toji couldn’t care less. 

“The tires just needed air. Choso will drop it off in an hour.” 

He would do it himself. But the urge to park in an empty lot and abuse the fuck out of his cock until a shred of clarity re-settles in his mind is a tad bit overwhelming, sweetheart.

Then your mouth drops in an incredulous ‘Oh’ and all Toji can picture is ruining the back of your throat. How pretty you are going to be wretching around his girth. Gasping for air. Choking on his cum. 

“Toji. Fushiguro.” You like using his name, don’t you?

“You held me hostage for a whole morning for some air—“

Toji kisses the rest of your complaints off your tongue. And you whine. Slot open for him with no resistance. Because under all that irritation and sarcasm, buried within the Trojan Horse, lays your supple, delectable submission. 

And he will take every opportunity to taste it. 

“I had a great time on our first date, babydoll.” Toji rasps against your swollen lips. 

The raging erection is threatening to embarrass him. There’s not enough restraint in the world to be around you any longer. Toji nestles your voice in his back pocket. The two of you watch each other with wordless, taken aback smiles as he takes slow steps toward his sports car.

Before the mechanic sinks into the driver’s seat, he makes a promise.

“Can’t wait for our second date, Mrs. Fushiguro!”

[abyssalzones]

i am so bad with words but ough. you get it. YOU GET IT!!! fords story is SUCH a compelling narrative on abuse and the recovery afterwards. i don’t think i realized how impactful it really was tho until a) reading your tbob review google doc (you articulate yourself so well and i loved hearing your thoughts on it!!) and b) those pages in tbob where the pines talk about bill (the pages where Mabel is dipping bill in guac like a chip lol). ive been in the gf fandom since i was 13 and bill was always always my fav character (who i was definitely not unhealthily obsessed with) so hearing that tbob was coming out was like a dream. i then read tbob and before I got to those pine pages i was kinda thinking like the rest of the fandom like “oh hehe these guys are exes” and then i read those pine pages and especially the part where ford says that he doesn’t have to feel shame anymore talking about his experience with bill… really hit me?? and then the sudden tonal whiplash when bill starts talking again hit me harder and something just clicked. like oh! bill is an abuser. oh my god. bill ABUSED ford. like it wasn’t just “omg hehe divorce <33 omg they’re exes <33”. like bill manipulated and used and abused this guy who’s been so insecure his entire life about something he couldn’t help and has always felt excluded and was so so desperate for praise and love. and for the first time in my stupid ass brain it clicked at just how awful and monstrous that is. so yeah. idk you probs don’t care and I’m sorry for filling ur inbox with nonsense lol but tldr you are one of a few people who actually grasp and understand fords character and treats his story about abuse with the care and respect it deserves. so… thank you? i love your art btw.

— sincerely someone who relates to ford pines a little too much

NO I DO CARE. I CARE A LOT

honestly asks like these make me feel like articulating myself is actually worth it in any capacity. I don't go into writing for the sake of changing people's minds since I know a lot of people likely won't be swayed by some stranger's essay on the internet about a cartoon, so it feels like I'm asking to get super frustrated if I think of it that way. but then every once in a while (mainly now, this is a very new phenomenon to me) I get to hear feedback like this and it shocks me every time. it's awesome to me when people go on a whole character arc about a piece of fiction because it reassures me that even in this little microcosm instance people often just don't have a moment where it clicks for them, and it could just take some time or the right set of circumstance. idk. probably a little melodramatic but I think it's cool + I like when people are good readers!

anyway, thank you!! this really made my morning :D

[olderthannetfic]

please, send help. i (23y/o) think i am getting to a stage where I need to be a Cool Aunt TM for my niece (13y/o). She's been a bit too online since she had to move around a lot. She had a bit of antis mentality, but i'm trying to pull her away from it slowly. At the same time, she's been around the internet, reading 18+ yaois and shit. I did the same at her age, so I can’t say I don't understand her. But as an adult idk how to talk about this 18+ healthily with her? or do I even need to? should I leave her on her own devices? I didn't have an adult to talk about these things with growing up so idk how you're supposed to do this.

There is not way to say how my parents or sibling (her mom) would react if I drop this on them, could be +/- , but it's a bit of a lottery depending on the most recent online articles they read lately. lol. They're open to convos, but a bit religious.

I'm taking suggestions if anybody would like to give some.

P.S. I am also not a cool person, i'm pretty much a lame homebody so… i also don’t know how to be cool lol.

im so sorry idk who else to ask.

--

Ahaha. Well, don't try too hard to be ~cool~. Nothing could be more offensive to the sensibilities of a 13-year-old.

A well delivered "Oh, come on, no one really thinks that" and eye-roll in response to the more delusional anti stuff has a wonderful effect if you're offline and the person respects you. Humans in general and 13-year-olds in particular are hypersensitive about fitting in. A boring and serious lecture from an older person will set off every melodramatic "The old people don't understaaaand!" instinct, but a well-timed "LOL, WTF" causes internal panic that one has missed something. If she wants the serious and nuanced explanation, she can ask for it, but I wouldn't start there.

As for how you talk about raunchy art... it really depends on the person. If she realizes you like the same stuff, she may bring it up. I think recs are fine, and so is euphemistic "I liked the ship dynamic in this one". "I got off to this" is TMI on your part. (Well, it's TMI on her part too, but be prepared for TMI if you become the confidant of a 13-year-old.)

Honestly, as long as she's directing the conversation and you aren't sharing details of your masturbation habits, I think you'll be fine. 13-year-olds aren't babies. If they're old enough to read porny doujinshi, they're old enough to talk to a trusted adult about them.

My teen tastes were weird art films full of sex. 13 is pretty young, but within a couple of years, she'll be the age I was when I was trying to see shit like Crash. She could be anywhere from self-assured in her tastes and interested in discussing her favorite media to easily-influenced to paralyzed by guilt. Creepy grooming shit comes from groomers choosing to groom, not from the topic of sexuality being in the air. If she's reading something with even a shred of plot or romance, you can talk about that without the actual conversation being X-rated. My main concern would be to avoid her trying to impress you by consuming media she finds uncomfortable or talking about things she doesn't actually want to share. You can really only judge that by body language and tone of voice in the moment.

I mean... does "18+ yaois" mean actual BL series here that have a few sex scenes or doujinshi that are entirely porn? ('Yaoi' basically means 'PWP' and is not exactly complimentary, after all.) It's somewhat harder to talk about the latter. But I liked some pretty out-there shit as a teen and did talk to adults about it. They just let me do most of the talking.

Probably the easiest way to broach the topic is to catch her reading something and go "Oh, I read that one" or "I liked [name of BL]".

[henghost]

Twig Liveblog for Arc 13

aaaaaa ‼️‼️‼️ idk if i've metabolized my thoughts enough to be fully coherent about them but i feel like i'll burn alive if i don't get them out, so:

it's like, after 3.1-10: "oh this is fun! a little cat and mouse game with the lambs." then after 3.11: "i am ready to commit grievous acts of violence." the earlier chapters are nonetheless worth discussing as without them there could not be such a "devastating" fifth-act catastrophe. particularly the communication experiments fascinated me. what a perfect metaphor! what if a radio could feel fear? what if a a radio could feel love? might we not also ask--what if a weapon could feel horny?

of course the lillian perspective deserves special attention as well. even before she says so explicitly, we understand that she is "ruined." there is her drug use, her physiological response to even the smallest mention of sy. this is perhaps the anatomical effect of being so close as the lambs, who are essentially a single organism: losing one, especially the one to whom you were closest, is like cutting off a limb. poor girl! like the rest of them she's wrapped up in shit too vast to possibly understand much less overcome.

helen is also going through it :( maybe she'll be the next one to join sy... mary's perspective is also quite rough--this is when i realized that this sy guy is on a level of psychosis i hadn't really considered before lmao.

and then at last there's That Scene with lillian, which reads at first like some kind of fanfiction--some kind of fanfiction lillian herself might have written--complete with typically teenaged overdetail, melodramatic descriptions of flushes, body heat, etc., till finally there's a sort of "surrealist coup," we realize we are too deep in sy's subjectivity to understand the reality of the situation, there's a break, we are lost.

it's all just so (say the line, henghost!) freudian... one of freud's most correct insights is that eros permeates all aspects of life, and therefore that to deny, suppress, or compartmentalize it cannot achieve anything but to make it sick, make the host neurotic. for example, instead of simply fucking your best friend who's clearly into you, you might design an obscenely elaborate rube goldberg type contraption throughout a monument to your darkest trauma (that psychotic fucking carnival orphanage lmao) in order to "win" your ex back. it is wrong, therefore, though understandable, to say that sy has "castrated himself"--it would be more accurate to say that wyvern has his dick twisted up in knots while he's still trying to get hard, poor guy. (by the way, i really have to write something about how wyvern is an allegory for ssri's lol.)

i won't even broach the moral ambiguity, though i'm sure there's something interesting to be said about it--for me, it's like asking about the morality of a withered tree or oedipus rex. and it really is that sophoclean: it was doomed to happened; it was fate. it is written into jamie's dna. sy is a gun who wants, and a gun cannot help but fire. libido is the engine pushing us down a railway designed at best by deus sive natura or at worst by the Academy. i feel fucking sick to my stomach!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! nonetheless, i found it life-affirming. it's pessimistic, yes, but it's a pessimism of strength.

anyway, i've gotta give kudos to the author. for all the (deserved) shit i've given him, the wildbow of twig is clearly a far more mature writer than the wildbow of worm.

i must also--since this the last recorded arc for the audiobook!!--shoutout kim dauber, who provided professional-level audibook-reading for free!!! it's possible my reading will slow down without it :(

[twig-tea]

The La Pluie finale had everything:

The Perfect Confession

Ok listen I am not one for nonconsensual public confession but know your audience, Tien is a perpetually invisible middle child who is not afraid of public attention and he is a film major, Lomfon making him a film to illustrate his feelings got me emotional, and him then also saying them out loud!! Because my boy learns from his own and others' mistakes, yesssss.

The Perfect Apology

I was so ready for Tai to suffer from the bed of his own making this episode, and I was not sure four days of searching was going to be enough. But that apology was PERFECT. He apologized first, he explained exactly what he did wrong, and he fixed it by saying his feelings aloud, finally! I was braced for the show to let him get away with not saying it, but he did. AND the show did us one better by giving us the explanation that he was parroting his parents' bullshit, which is such a real thing and it is difficult to catch yourself doing it, so the fact that he recognized it displayed his growth before the apology too. Just, all around this was so perfectly constructed and I was so pleased. Hell yes.

Surprise Sapphics

Listen, I am always here for more women loving women. Always. And LBR it's only a surprise that we actually got Dream and Nara confirmed because I know many of us were already shipping them.

Confirmation of Other Side Pairs

IDK if anyone else was rooting for the other vet techs than me, but they shared coffee so they're married in my head now I don't make the rules.

Best Brothers Being Best

Honestly Tien could have just said "unfuck it" to Tai again in that phone call and it would have rolled up to the same thing lol I really do love how their relationship was rock solid through this entire show, even when romance was potentially a threat. They have such a good sibling dynamic, one of the best I've seen in any show, and it makes me happy whenever Tien and Tai interact.

It also had a few things that I didn't love:

Awkward Logistics

This is maybe not a big deal because Tai is a writer but he works in a job that requires him to be in the office at least occasionally and Patts just started setting up a new vet clinic in Chiang Mai. Is Tai going to leave his friends and family to work remotely and live in Chiang Mai with Patts? Are they going to have to work out their relationship anew long distance? This is going to suck a little bit, and the adult in me could not help but notice and have it damper my joy. That being said, it was something Patts said he was thinking about for awhile so maybe it's something that would have come up anyway in future.

Patts Now Believes in Soulmates

Honestly, this was the biggest damper for me and I wish they hadn't included it (but maybe they had to for the sequel, IDK). Patts originally was willing to try with Nara because he didn't think the soulmate thing could dictate his emotions and he loved her, but she would not believe him. He also was willing to try with Tai before realizing that they were soulmates. And he told Tai that he would have wanted to try a relationship with him whether or not they were soulmates. So why now are we told that he suddenly thinks he can only love his soulmate for the rest of his life? This is not just anti-narrative, but anti-Patts' previous statements. I get that he was hurting and predisposed to be melodramatic in that moment, but it was a weird statement to include.

Bow's Throwaway Het Happy Ending

Not to be heterophobic but where is her cute Northern girlie who Tumblr convinced me she was dating? Bow deserves better imho

Tien's Turn for Drama

I KNEW this was going to happen! They spent too much time making it a big deal that Tai was the only sibling with hearing loss during rain. I just want my best boy to be happy for five minutes! Considering these characters, and what Tien's already said about what he would do if given this choice, I could see this plot being interesting. Especially because Tien had to suffer, now it's Lomfon's turn, maybe. But still, just let me have this cuteness for a little longer, show!

But all of that is relatively minor and honestly what we got was so good I can forgive and forget all of it.

TL; DR La Pluie stuck the landing and I could not be more pleased!

[gayspock]

like i swear im done haaaahaaaaaaaar

does anyone just feel a sickfucking resentment whenever they see anyone remotely interested in anything any more. idk. it gets harder to not submit to being such a bitter, jaded bitch sometimes but what else do you have. trying genuinely to find some fucking interest in any of it, or something to just help me bide my time til i fucking die and none of it fucking helps. the number of failed, stupid hobbies, attempts at outings, etc. and i just cry over it all, cuz in the end i wasted so much money and time and i felt nothing but fucking dogshit. idk it feels so fucking dumb. its such a dumb thing to fucking cry about sometimes and its so embarrassing because i know people would do nothing but roll their eyes & grit their teeth and tell me i just havent found anything yet or its not important and its like i dont know. its not just this is it its like. something something i feel so fucking barren in every aspect of my fucking personhood because i cant seem to fucking do anything right even the most bare fucking essentials. something something. im not just lonely bc i dont have people to talk to right now but about it being a repeated fucking problem and not havingany means of ever getting myself out of the fucking isolated hole im in. stupid shit like this being wrapped up into it. i dont have anything to put on dating apps oranything to talk abt with people because i think im like a fucking ghost at this point, im struggling half the time with basic fucking comprehension , my fucking brains slowed down to a grinding hault and im losing so many years and i dont know where theyre going just that its nonstop neverending never any way out never any improvement im not getting out etc ... because i cant fucking do anything but spiral downwards and theres nothing fucking else to do any more and hasnt been for a long fucking time. something something get fucking help like for fucking what at anymore. think they all justgave up because its just a road to fucking nowhere and theres no helping me not in a fucking melodramatic, oh i was alwaysss doomed way, but in the pathetic fucking nothing way . the youre not depressed way you need to fucking kill yourself because thats the sensible option why the fuck would you want to exist as yourself thats moronic bc nobody fucking likes you nobody ever would theres nothing remotely fucking notable nevermind likable nevermind lovable does anyone feel insane i keep crying bc it doesnt feel fucking fair that it takes so much time and energy and everything just to not even not-function but to just fucking coast sometimes. i keep thinking abt how sad i was as a teenager and how much it fucking drained and hurt all the time to keep trying to keep up with everyone like pleaseee please fucking like me and for what for what . i dont think a single person remembers who i am at this point and i used to think i was crazy and i still catch myself thinking it now but no they do not. like you. nobody likesss youuuu.... you iddiottttttttttttt... something, something AHHAAA THE BAD THOUGHTS! ARE SIMPLY NOT TRUE! ON ACCOUNT OF THEM BEING BAD!!! but screaaaam it turns out they are and they prove to be every single time...... keep fucking sobbing about how youre never the priority, my guy you are not fucking remotely anything to anybody because youre nothing and you are alone you are the failure you always thought you were nobody fucking likes you youre going mental trying to leech onto people and its not like anythings fucking different its just more detached like god why do i fucking show up for work and even fucking bother pretending. like fine im not actively trying toget close any more. im long past .that. go into work smile try to not fuck it all up come home and cry. but why even fucking pretend im fucking paper mache craft of a person does anyone want to set fire to everything before they die just for some vague satisfaction like

i keep wanting to fucking detach from everything and run away and never fucking see anyone ever again in some fucking fantasy world where its possivle to fucking torch everything. but like even that isnt real is it like is IT bc its just in my fucking head where i torch everything no matter what and nothing MATTERS IN THERE ITS JUST A STUPID LOOP and by gdo i wish i could remain apathetic but i start going nuts every time im stuck in a situation playing house and nicies too long its poisonnnn its poisonousssss help me CHRISTTTTTTTTTT BECAUSE i cant die in this house i keep thinking abt when i off myself trying to come up with solutions to never being found i am not fucking being another fucking husk of a fucking being not for forever I NEED. TO. DISAPPEA.R COMPLETELY. NOOO REMAINSSS CUNT NO TRACE POOF

[infuschia]

idk

hi guys i am so sorry for totally ghosting :/ i know that's the worst feeling with a fic you love and i'm so so sorry. i'm gonna be so straight up, i have had a WILD life from even before i started this fic up until right now - and although things are finally starting to take shape and calm down to say the least, i lost a lot of myself during that time. i grew in many ways as well, but i think there's just been a lot that happened to me over the past year or so that held me back from goals i have or the type of person i wanna become or whatever, and without going into detail, i cannot lie alot of it has been really really hard. i definitely used writing as an escape/coping mechanism of some sort for the negative feelings i was experiencing - and that can be super helpful for real plus i've BEEN in therapy lol, but i also still found myself retreating away from parts of my life that would have been good for me and my growth to pursue, and i can't be doing that anymore. as much as i fell in love with writing all this for you guys, it ended up taking up a lot of space in my mind as more of a distraction from my own setbacks and issues instead of being something wholly good for me, if that makes sense. unfortunately - THE MOST PAINFUL MIC DROP iamsosososorry - that distraction has had to end. some lowkey rock bottom moments forced me to take a better look at my life for what it really is AND for what i want it to be, and at this time i do need to step back from the false life i created in this story and step back into my real one. not that i was like living in my bedroom on my laptop or nothin LMAO i'm just sayin there have been some things i know now i can't continue with in the same way that i did before, in terms of what i spend my time and energy on. i can't say for sure that i'll never be back but i don't wanna be making any promises i can't keep. I LOVE AND APPRECIATE ALL OF THE LOVE SO MUCH OVER THE YEAR I SPENT WORKING ON THIS FOR YOU ALL i NEVER EXPECTED like anyone to read it so just every split second you even spent CONSIDERING this fic was just music to my soul and i again can't begin to describe how wonderful it's been hearing from you all and knowing that at least in some small way i was able to add a bit of joy to your lives. it's not goodbye, it's see you down the road - LMAO IGNORE MY MELODRAMATIC ASS SO SILLY but fr. over the summer i fell in and out of love and back again (MAYBE I SHOULD NOT SAY LOVE LMAO maybe lust and some feels LOLOL BUT MAN IDEK AIFSHJABJHD) with an old potential guy of sorts (have talked on and off for the last three years bruh hometown crush), and after all this time of never actually being upfront about what we thought of each other we were FINALLY honest with each other about how we felt on things, just before having to go back to school in different parts of the country - with a hope to see each other again down the road #romantic? #idek. i hope it works out with him, maybe my romantic ass is just bein delusional asf but i also just have that feeling that we'll find each other again when the time is right. and maybe just maybe i'll be back at this when the time is right - but all i know for sure is that, just like with this man-whos-not-my-man-but-may-just-be-one-day, right now i gotta focus on loving myself above all. THIS IS CRAZY SO MUCH WRITING I KNOW but i know how it feels to have a fic you like just drop off the earth so i guess better something than nothing, better late than never. SO so so much love forever and always. you guys all have my heart no matter who you are, where you are, or whenever you're reading this. LOVE YOU TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH YOURE AMAZING AND KEEP ON BEING YOU CUZ THATS INCREDIBLE ON ITS OWN <3 <3 <3 see you down the road my friends xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

[ribbonpinky-art]

feeling melancholic and hopeless again. so im gonna just write out my emotions and none of it correlating. self pity post galore

im thinking about things. life is rough. so stressful. my mental illness is worsening by the day. lots of stuff happens behind the scenes that i choose to not talk about

and what im thinking about now, is that who was once one of my absolute comforts (junko).. im thinking abt that adorable little fumo plush of her i ordered several months ago is just sitting on top of my other plushies.. that i wasn't even excited to have her when she first arrived.

i didn't care.

and that hurt, knowing i didn’t, remembering how much she once meant to me.

same with my Chang’e. i want nothing to do with either of them now. they no longer bring me an ounce of comfort, only dread and remnants of a self indulgent story of kindness that once lifted me up. it all died. feels too idealistic. i feel like im too much of an outcast to let this story exist outside my private circles. i dont even want it anymore, or if i want to ever again

i think as of lately, focusing on oc’s (including ones i havent spoken of yet) has been better for my state of mind

doesnt help that im kiiinda only appreciated for my Junko works!!!! awesome!! i dont want to draw her anymore !!! fml!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! other people are better at drawing her than me anyway, ya wont miss me. lemme focus on my evil lady oc instead...

maybe im being melodramatic, and i do not care. perhaps in a few months i will be enamored with them again? idk. idc either

i feel more disconnected than ever to fandom, when i was seldom a part of any of it in the first place. im that person that exists on the outskirts, not really part of their community. im disconnected to people. i cant make connections with anyone, but i never could .. ok . i could, with a couple folks here and there. im grateful they want me around (not counting my partner of course, theyre the best thing thats ever happened to me. im not just lucky, im fortunate af we met at all)

im aware of my own issues- im autistic, im unmedicated when i probably need meds to regulate my emotions, i live in a toxic family. im triggered terribly easily, and when im hurt, it *hurts*.

 i fear that, because of my strange way of speaking and how a lot of my conversations are stilted, and what i perceive as unusual behavior-- i fear i make other people creeped out/uncomfortable. irl or otherwise. like, maybe ppl will be friendly to me at first, but after a year and i dont say much anything and im just this creepy, quiet weirdo to them now. and thats so silly. whats creepy about me?? im a pint size thing who cant even look anyone in the eye very well. is that creepy?? ok, i struggle to talk sometimes, i might be uninterested in conversation but i dont want to be disliked for it-- idk ((ok i have “Creep” by Radiohead set in my mind because of my mental state, and its kinda funny to me for some reason)

i genuinely feel like i lack intelligence. i suck at thinking. i suck at thinking of words, remembering things, and the tiny mistakes i do make are SO small that it should be impossible to make the mistake in the first place. was i always like this? i feel like i used to be smarter , lol

i am quite literally, a complete failure in my family. i cant stress the truth in that enough. even my grandmother is disappointed in me and only wants to see a text message from me saying i got a worthy job in my field. that only thing that matters to anyone, my one and only point of interest in everyone i speak to in my life even outside my family, is that i dont have a real job. thats it. everyone is waiting for me to be.. someone.

because im no one.

but none of them have been a particularly positive influence in my life, seeing as im stuck here.

i genuinely feel disgusting for existing. my body feels wrong to be in when i am visible to any human being. perhaps even to any animal and bug, too. i dont want to be looked at, to be remembered by anyone who wont understand me

nothing is changing!!!!! and when it is, its worse than before!! why cant i just be brave and GO

..

..

..

not all of this reflects reality. i beat myself up a lot. mirrin knows it. i know it.

it hurts

[yanderefairyangel]

Duality in Engage

Maybe a part 1 of something idk.

Ok so the realization fall upon me thinking again about the DLC (how the heck is something so badly written have so many good things in it at the same time ?!) but remember about the twins thing ? Well, I noticed that all the siblings in Engage that are character rather important are a pair of sibling, like twins.

All pair of siblings.

And I already pointed out that Engage relies a lot on the duality theme.

Just as how Nel describes she and Nil/Rafal as "two halves of a whole", each siblings pair have personality that complement each other.

Alfred is a kind guy who let his kindness drives him and making him reckless whereas Céline is more dignified and calm.

Diamant is a stoic and confident man, brave and driven for an idea with peace whereas Alcryst is a pessimitic yet kind and brave young man who looks up to his brother despite his lack of self confidence.

Ivy is an elegant and cool princess, she is rather sweets so in short a gap moe whereas Hortensia is an extrovert girl a bit childish and who likes cute stuff.

Timerra and Fogado are both extraverted and free minded and can show themselves to be capable of being very serious when the situation asked them too.

Pandreo is a sincere priest but is overall an enthusiastic person whereas Pannette tries to speak elegantly and acts more dignified then her brother in fronts of others even if alone with her brother, she drops the acts.

Clanne and Framme are equally passionated about Alear but Framme is more extravert and openly passionate when Clanne is a bit shyer and gets easily perturbed.

Nel and Rafal are a special case because during the DLC, Nel sounded cold and distant compared to how warm and smiling and sweet Nil seemed. However, once they joined your party, Nel shows she is actually very kind, and caring even if she doesn't know how to properly explain it due to... hum reasons (cough, cough Sombron abuse) whereas Rafal acts colder and tougher even if in truth he is very kind (he will kill me for saying this)

Pretty much like Timerra and Fogado having similar personality, Alear and Veyle are both very sweets person pushing their boundaries to help those they love and ready to shield themselves when necessary.

Now you'll notice that the siblings have opposed personailties that harmonizes with each others right ? That's how the complement each other, as a half of a whole.

But guess what ? Remember when we were like "Ah, Altfred isn't evul he is just reversed personality Alfred" ? Well, turns out they actually have more of a personality swap with their siblings.

Altfred is more rational and cautious about his plan, like Céline is whereas Felline is not only an extreme version of Céline, but she is more hot blooded like Alfred is.

I don't think I need to explain it for the Brodian brothers now, do I ?

Hortensialt's personality has been affected by the trauma but ultimately, her personality ressembles more that of Ivy whereas Ivyalt is more flashy to the point of being melodramatic which is an exagerate version of Hortensia' bright personality.

Both Solmiic siblings were flipped, but Timerralt still care a lot about her brother even if Fellgado is... well, he literaly is evul and this contrast a lot compared to our caring Fogado but... chuckles, I am sorry... Each time i recall their intereactions I am... wow, Fellgado has no chill. Anyway...

and for the Fell twins, their personality is also reversed as Nel comes off as colder then she actually turns out to be, whereas Rafal, because he assumes another's identity, is the complete opposite of his true personality, but his support with Gregory explain that well already. And I think that's why their relationship as siblings seems to work way less then for our Regular royals. Their support conversations shows how the siblings actually manage to be on an harmonized relationship and able to communicate with each other. However, the Alternate siblings doesn't have that at all, even from the glimpse with have of this even though they aren't completely off the spectrum of their counterpart's personality it's still in my opinion a proof that the Royalts failed to have a deep bound as siblings relationship, the most obvious one being Ivyalt and Hortensialt, then you have Diamalt and Altcryst, Timerralt and Fellgado and Altfred and Felline. I think another example of this is that it's precisely because they showed personality that weren't their that their relationship went this bad (that and all the things I mentionned in my Rafal post). And you'll notice that in this universe, our siblings with tragic dynamic, Alear and Veyle, AREN'T even siblings in that world !! That' probably the biggest evidence i can have for my point about siblings dynamic failling. I think it's quite the deal that the 4 winds managed to have a healthy familial relationship in a world where family were unable to have an harmonized relationship or were more then separated as in this world, the links between Alear and Sombron and Veyle were literaly non existent (I mean they have a common ancestor in that universe but hum) compared to our universe where our main cast have healthy family relationship whereas the Hounds didn't (as I mentionned in my Hounds post)

I think it's also shows how duality ends up serving the family message/theme in Engage with the duality of family being illustrated with healthy harmonized family despite the difference (character on our party) and unhealthy toxic and disaharmonious family relationship (our ennemies)

[wolperkinger]

idk if i can articulate this well

I'm trying to understand whether or not roleplaying is something I even enjoy anymore. It's... tough

Writing is something I enjoy and there are so many characters I'm passionate about that I want to explore further than canon ever did, I think that's what really makes writing enjoyable to me, and were I not to have roleplay blogs then I wouldn't ever post about these characters in such detail. Analysis, headcanons, etc. it's just not something I'm confident enough to do outside of a roleplay environment

...But at the same time there's so much that comes with roleplaying that makes it not enjoyable

It's incredibly anxiety inducing and intimidating to interact with people I'm unfamiliar with (I would've loved to have gotten over this after literal years of roleplaying, alas...). And as someone who struggles to really, well, do anything, especially consistently for any period of time, it doesn't help my anxiety as I sit there and do nothing, watching the days turn to weeks and months as I am unable to formulate a timely reply or answer an ask. And for a lot of blogs a month is enough to break mutuals, nevermind longer than that. I get it, truly I do, but it sucks all the same and only ever aids my anxiety, knowing that the second I stop a lot of people just... won't be interested anymore

It eats me up inside! It makes me feel guilty! Which just makes me feel worse, which just makes me not wanna do anything! It sucks! It can so quickly turn into a cycle of self loathing and guilt

(and this is before I even get to all the plethora of real world issues that I won't go into which just make things difficult to near impossible for me. These are not exactly small things I can fix easily at the drop of a hat)

I really want to write! It makes me so happy! I also... don't... want to write. It stresses me out

I don't know what to do because in the end I know I'm going to feel awful about whatever choice I make. It'll make me disappointed if I keep going with something that causes me so much stress, just as much as quitting it completely would also make me disappointed. If I deleted everything and freed myself from roleplaying entirely I know for a fact I'd just end up wanting to do it again, and then in that situation... not having these blogs would- you guessed it- make me feel just as awful

Maybe I'm being melodramatic, but this is how I feel. Or at least I tried to put my thoughts down in a somewhat coherent way

As a general rule of thumb I lean more towards keep roleplaying (in fact I'd like to make a very casual sideblog multi for my old muses, I miss Hapi & I still want to write Andrias), but I worry that I'll once again lose steam and then disappear for months to a year. And I don't want to do that to people. I hate how I can't ever seem to consistently commit to things I want to do, it's frustrating

RP blogs do generally seem to come and go really quick, it's not exactly unusual, but I still feel bad about essentially abandoning people all the same

In the end... I don't know what I'll end up doing. I've got some motivation as of writing this so I might get some interactions done, just unsure of how long that spark will last before I'm gone for another, what, six months or more?

(tangentially related though it is worth mentioning all the same, I've been getting back into art recently so I want to dedicate most of my time to that, especially with Artfight on the horizon. I want to prepare well in advance so I don't feel rushed to draw multiple whole ass character references)

[thelivingdeceased]

c.f writing update #1 - ghost I

i hit 10k words on this project so im gonna share some things about the first chapter because this chapter has been written for months and i NEED to talk about it (intro to that WIP if you missed it).

(this may or may not be coherent. we’ll see)

Chapter I: Ghost I

Ghost I was originally the second chapter of this book and was called phone calls but i then decided (with the help of a friend) that the og first chapter (which was called broken ribs) was boring and scrapped it :D i like this chapter as the first one a bit more because i truly think it’s written better and feels a lot less closed in. broken ribs was claustrophobic and very melodramatic and it weighed on my brain. so when i got the confirmation that the feeling wasn’t just me i happily scrapped it for what is now Ghost I

This chapter is about 4k words so it is LONG !! the other chapters are not nearly this long i swear but there was a lot to be added in this chapter.

The chapter name comes from the metaphorical ghost aspect of the book. This chapter is the first of many ghost named chapters (there’s already a ghost II and III planned) and even though they’re called “ghost” no actual ghosts appear :D (also my personal favorite ghost chapter is ghost III atm)

before i get on to excerpts (my favourite part :D) here’s the little summary thing (idk what it’s called i just write one before every chapter)

Nadia and her friend Edith could care less about the idea of cryptids. They’re ghost hunters, not cryptozoologists. But when they come face to face with one and are told a whole town is full of them, they think it might be time to talk to their boss, Basira.

okay so !! here’s the opening paragraph to the chapter because it’s pretty snazzy (it really isn’t)

' No ghost hunting team truly cares about a cryptid.’

The ache in my head gets worse in the car. So does the pain in my ribs. The image of the cryptid is still burning in my mind. Edith’s hands still shake even though she’s gripping the wheel like her life depends on it. We don’t know what to say, so we say nothing. Though the presence of the creature looms over us.

i really don’t know how to feel about this first paragraph. if i get a better idea, i’ll change it. but until i start editing it’s gonna stay like this.

my friend says that nadia is very katniss everdeen without the constant survival mode element and i think that sums her up pretty well so here’s a paragraph that my friend called katniss core

The world grows darker as we drive and the silence soon becomes comfortable. My head is aching and I just want to shut my eyes and pray that sleep takes me. It won’t. I’ve barely slept for a week. My hand grabs on to the water bottle again. I don’t splash my face with water, though I am slightly longing to feel the cool water drip down my too warm face. I just hold it, as if holding it will make my headache go away.

nadia and edith interaction time !!

As if she is reading my mind, Edith asks, “Is your head okay? I didn’t have time to check if you broke skin or something.”

“It hurts but I’ll be fine. I don’t think it’s serious.”

“I hope so. We’re not big on hospital trips.”

nadia’s an orphan (because she’s funky) and she gets very jealous of kids with parents so here’s a moment where that happens

A mother is walking with her child across the street. They’re talking about the event they just went to. The child is full of life and joy and the mother is smiling kindly. Her face is tired but she still manages to look enthralled in what the child is saying. Her responses are more than half-assed mhm’s and yeahs, and instead finds actual answers.

It was fun wasn’t it?

Maybe we can go to another thing with Mikayla.

Something similar to jealousy fills my chest. I wish I would’ve had that as a child, instead of an orphanage director who could care less about the child he’s looking after. I long for an actual parental relationship. I hope that child has the greatest life, free of all the hardships I’ve ever witnessed.

first andre introduction !!!

Edith unlocks the door and we walk into a fully lit home. Andre’s on the phone whispering something and he stops when he sees us. The phone slams on the hook. He leans on the wall as if nothing has happened. I’ve noticed he does this often. Does something and then pretends he wasn’t doing it. Maybe he’s a drug dealer.

sorta long passage of the sillies in silence and andre being sketchy (he’s not actually a drug dealer lolz nadia’s just spent too much time around wild orphanage kids)

We walk into the kitchen, the simple floral wallpaper meeting my eyes. It soothes my head and is pleasing to the eye. It’s one of those things I never notice until something in my day has changed. Like a headache. Like the witnessing of pseudoscience creatures. Like the making of lunch at eight o’clock.

Edith begins to make sandwiches. I sit at the small table. There’s a marker in front of me. I grab it and begin doodling on my skin. A ghost, an eye, a smiley face, my name. The ink bleeds on my skin with every stroke. There’s a rumour that the ink from this marker will give me skin poisoning. I’m not sure how much I believe it. If it did give people skin poisoning, wouldn’t they put a warning? Maybe not. The world doesn’t like to put warnings sometimes, even if people will die.

Edith takes the marker from my hand when she’s done with the sandwiches, placing it gently on the table, and sits down across from me. We begin to eat our sandwiches in silence. Andre’s talking on the phone again, probably thinking we can’t hear him. There’s an urgency in his voice as he whispers the words, “I need something with freedom.”

Edith’s done with her sandwich long before I am. She seems impatient, as if something must happen now or something will go wrong. She’s bouncing her leg under the table and going back and forth between putting her head in her hands and leaning her chin on her hand. I realise she’s waiting for Basira. The clock strikes 8:30.

basira introduction !! (she is the coolest grimm crew member)

She walks in behind Edith. Her locs are pulled up and her top hat is in her hand. Her face is glistening with sweat and she lacks a coat. She sits next to me, tossing the hat in front of her.

silly conversation in the middle of basira being like “cryptid filled town is NOT important. i want to sleep im tired >:(“ (also basira knows what bleeding internally is she’s just very tipsy and tired rn)

“You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s not important. Unless one of you got hurt I don’t see why we’ve got to discuss this now.”

“I hit my head.” I say, looking for the marker again. “If that counts.”

“Are you bleeding?”

“I don’t know. Probably not.”

“You don’t know?”

“I could be bleeding internally.” I can’t find the marker.

“That’s where blood is supposed to be.”

Edith cuts in. “It wasn’t a ghost, Basira. It was a cryptid.”

nadia realises the kitchen lights are dim and she’s very bothered by it and edith is like “girly are you okay” cause they aren’t dim

“The lights are dim.” I say.

“Are they? They seem bright enough to me.”

“No, they’re definitely dimming. Do you have any extra light bulbs? Maybe I could change them.”

“They don’t need to be changed.”

“It’s practically pitch black in here at this point. I can go buy some more if you need me to.”

“Jesus, Nadia, are you sure you’re alright? I think you hit your head harder than you think.”

plot twist !! the lights are actually dim and nadia has her “i could fr do this right now” moment

I know I’m not seeing things when I walk out into the hallway and the lights are just fine. It’s only the kitchen that’s dim, which tells me that it is the light bulbs. I look toward the door. It’s unlocked. My coat is on its hook. There’s a convenience store down the street and they don’t close till midnight. There’s money in my coat pocket.

nadia does NOT buy lightbulbs she actually buys cigarettes cause its the early 70s and there’s no adult supervision and now her and edith are hanging in her room listening to black sabbath and talking about backstories !!

“What was the orphanage like?” Edith asks suddenly. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Do I mind her asking? In the short week I’ve been away from the orphanage I’ve tried not to think about the orphanage and its horrific people. Now I’m being confronted with it by someone other than myself and it’s bothersome. Then again, Edith probably has a story similar to end up at a job like this before turning eighteen so there’s no reason not to talk about it a bit.

“Loud. There’s a lot of children running around all the time and they’re always shouting.”

“I guessed that would probably be the case. Do you have any fond memories?”

I used to, but they’re all plagued with a strange feeling of impending doom now. “No, not really.” Silence passes over us for a moment before I adjust myself and say, “What about you? What was your life like before Grimm’s Ghost Hunting?”

convo continued but now it’s about edith

“Pretty boring. Quiet, even. I attended school up until I dropped out and then my mum kicked me out which led me to end up here.”

“You dropped out?” That goes against every single thing I’ve ever known about her.

“Yeah,” she shrugs. “It just wasn’t for me, I guess.”

The phone starts to ring after she says that. It echoes through the room and is particularly loud for me, as I’m sitting right by the bedside table. Edith drops the photos at the sound and looks at me, eyes wide.

nadia’s scary ex girlfriend calls her and nadia’s like “eek how do you know where i am” and i hate lynette williams sm

“Hello?”

“Hello Nadia.”

I freeze. The cause of the impending doom feeling is on the other end and her voice is just as fear inducing as it was when I last heard it. Lynette Williams, a pretty French girl with a world of evil on her side. She haunted me more than the ghosts for a year and now she’s haunting the phone.

“How did you get this number?” I ask, voice shakier than I would like.

“Magic.” she laughs. I hate the sound of her laugh. “How are you? Is the real world treating you well?”

“Fuck off, Lynette. Don’t call again.” I slam the phone on the hook. My breathing is heavy and my headache is back again. I can’t stand her.

“Who was that?” Edith’s voice scares me.

“No one. It’s no one.”

final part of the chapter !!!

She looks unsure. I don’t blame her. I’d be unsure if I were her. That phone couldn’t have sounded good one-sided. Lynette’s voice rings in my head. She doesn’t care how I’m doing. She just wants to scare me. It’s working. It’s working very well. I’ll never admit that out loud but I can think about it. I can think about it till my brain rots from the fear of one girl. I don’t want to think about it anymore.

I sigh, rubbing my hands over my face, and turn to Edith.

“Can I have a cigarette?”

and that’s Ghost I for you all !! this post was just an excuse to rant and share things about my silly story and i’m sorry it’s a little long. also this has not been edited so it’s not the greatest but it’s not bad either :DD i’ll probably make an update for the second chapter soon !! i hope you enjoyed reading about my silly book and have a good day !!

[crimzoncrow]

venting again lol

feels weird to keep venting here but i don’t really have anywhere else to put it . im hoping thisll just pass quickly and that it just feels as bad as it is because of how recent everything is but im so fucking tired . i want to work on my art and my fic and my crochet and all my other projects and i hate that i can’t but im just so tired

i know that i should rest and try to make sure my sleep schedule stays steady and try to make sure to eat and drink enough but it just feels so difficult . i know that mental health and healing is never just one steady line of improvement but it just feels awful to be able to tell how much worse i am now than i was just a few days ago . and i know it’s not the worst i can go or even the worst ive been but it still sucks even when at least this time i can believe that there’s an end to it somewhere

i can’t help but feel melodramatic, talking about it so much and making such a huge deal of it. i kind of regret having my fandom stuff on here instead of on a sideblog or something because this doesn’t feel like a personal blog and it just makes me feel weirder talking about personal stuff on here . ive been thinking about maybe trying to just make a sideblog for fan stuff but it seems like so much effort to try and figure out moving things and getting other people to look at that blog instead of this one etc etc idk

i keep wanting to just post more thoughts and comments and personal stuff here, because of the whole not having anywhere else to really talk about things at the moment, but it just feels weird

idk

im tired . i just want this to pass quickly

[vynnyal]

dumping my random thoughts, comic ideas, and wildly misinformed theories abt hk onto my victims: part 2!!! p clear what I was doing in some of these, lmao

btw if you have any input im very, super interested please feel free 2 share

"So who's the mother?" Grimm: "Mother? No, there was no mother." "Then how--?" grimm: "Mitosis, obviously." Cut to two panels of the person dissociating over what they imagine the process to be.

FUCKIN... ASEXUAL PRIDE GRIMM

Hornet yelling shaw instead of yeet or koby.

Hornet yelling git gud at inappropriate times in place of like... Actual Advice. Alt: jdghghf or when she gets nervous, as a distraction.

Her thinking of something cool to say while waiting outside the black egg temple. alt: her thinking so hard she almost misses her cue, making her flub; aka the reason she says somn more like "geddun" in-game. alt alt: thk and ghost sharing a blank look (mid-battle) and thinking "she flubbed" in disbelief.

Hornet and something with the "spidersilk paper" lemm mentioned, maybe using it to """document""" her day when she has time to spare. She insists it's not a diary, so don't even try.

Hornet grieving the little weavers.

(speedrun) "You wanna fight? Huh? Huh? Well I dont, bye"

Zote "I only saved you for the money" joke.

Quirrel pretending not to understand modern slang.

Quirrel... Dad jokes... Holy shit

FUCKIN... DAD BOD???

conifer appearing in increasingly absurd locations.

Quirrel playfully commenting on the uh... "information"... The tablets display. alt: he can actually read it just fine, but is coy abt telling ghost what it says.

rather than just appearing, Quirrel and ghost walk through the archives together, the mood bittersweet.

Hollow knight passing the time in the black egg lightheartedly.

Wyrm and root trying to argue but the height difference just makes them both laugh.

ghost appearing before Root, expectant, only for them to slowly realize she doesn't actually... care about them. or any of the vessels, really. she expects them to do their duty, her claims of shame apparently not deterring her away from the fate they were created for. alt: she acts like that not out of any kind of malevolence, but out of pure ignorance. It doesn't occur to her how much it costs the little vessels... Or that they even have anything to lose, at all.

Cut to the future after the bad end, as yet another fragile vessel appears before the queen, far too late to save anyone now.

Godmaster traitor lord battle, ghost walks in looking very nervous. Traitor looks smug, asking if they're afraid (of him), only for the next panel to show ghost sweating profusely as they have Fragile Flower Flashbacks. alt, they're imagining/being pressured by the ghost girlfriends glaring at them/wailing "WAIIII" in tendem.

Ghost asks how thk got so big, only for them to reveal their body is still the same size, and they're just controlling a big suit of armor like false knight. Jdbfjfgjr

its been pointed out the bee knight doesnt... actually have any wings to buzz with. the noises are entirely vocalized. The reason buzzy baby makes buzz noises is because he felt left out when he was a kid; the queen, seeking to comfort him, explains how he can create his very own buzz sounds using an alternative method, instead. Despite his battle prowess, his mind never matured, continuing up to his very last moments to make the habitual noises of his childhood.

(godmaster) having soul left over and fuckin SCREAMING in the faces of the nail masters just before the bench.

Defeating bee boy by one mask, relaxing for a sec, before realizing the bees are stILL COMING ACTUALLY,,,,

The aftermath of the sheo fight, ghost just DRIPPING with rainbow-colored paint.

ze'mer and her lover meeting in their dreams.

flower lesbos hanging out with the thorn husbos (nailmaster/sheo hfshh)

Team cherry hid the gays behind some of the hardest missions because, let's be honest, no homophobe would put that much effort into anything.

Quirrel saying "I've only had ghost for a day, but if anything happened to them I'd -" Cuts to ghost, shade over their body Quirrel: "..."

Messing with the hot springs... geysers? Idk 3 heads things. whats in there? How were they made? By the ancient civilization, maybe pale king? alt: finding quirrel relaxing casually inside one of the eyesockets instead of in the spring, lmao.

"I'd sure like to be a shade, like heck- they can fly, they can do that weird teleport thing, and they have-", turns to it, "- ALL MY MONEY!!!"

Ngl I still don't fully understand the relationship between ghost, their shell, and their shade, and should prolly read up before blabbing, but what is it that separates ghost's body from their shade? Or their shade from ghost, themself? We see in the dnm ending they can very much "control" their shade, as they voluntarily rip off their shell to release it. Or... Oh shit am I dumb? Did ghost kill themselves right then? Oh fuck did ghost die to let their shade kill the radience. Please tell me I'm wrong I'm really upset now yfjfihrufhgi

Gonna be honest the previous one was me trying to contextualize the concept of ghost being able to fly like shades do but now I'm just thinking abt ghost, fuck. Still. Imagine ghost n thk just, like, hovering towards people with their funky tentacle legs. Or better, no tentacles, they can just Do That. Establish your dominance, little vessels.

Ghost doing the superman "ripping off your shirt to shift into super-mode" thing except they just tear apart their shell. Alt: hornet: "that looks painful"

Broken vessel was stuck. Out of all the dead vessels we see- the one in greenpath, those hung in nosk's den, the floor of the abyss, even ghost themself- not one retained their body after death. Except, that is, for broken vessel. Something, somehow, was anchoring their shade to their shattered shell and keeping it there, unable to seep away and reunite with their siblings below. They weren't just another corpse. That was ghost's sibling.

Just what is a vessel's coak? From what I've seen of the sprites, it's clearly attached to their shells; some in nosk's den are even hung from them, with their shells dangling below it. It seems biological- by which I mean, not some sort of clothing or ambiguously god-based substance- which makes its selective decay rather odd. On one hand, in greenpath, nosk's den, and some specific corpses within the abyss, their cloaks have stayed firmly attached. On the other, we have countless shells left naked all over the place- even ghost's shell is like this. Of course we have to keep in mind ari prolly just didn't wanna animate that, but that's no fun. I don't really have a prompt or theory here, as nothing I come up with quite fits the bill... Just more of a thinkpiece, I suppose.

Nyooming past quirrel at blue lake, freeze frame of ghost and q sharing a startled look.

Ghost distracting sheo by making him gush over his artwork. alt, "winning" the battle by showing him something they made, and/or just having a paint-off. Ghost wins no matter what, obviously.

Ohhh... Ghost learning to express themselves through art...

Lurien secretly has multiple eyes, fit neatly in the one socket.

Appreciating the genius of the mimic grub room (the real grub's location is hard-coded. im still mad)

Hearing Hornet say "get down" instead of "git gud" and the connotations of that. alt: hearing "git gud" when she's actually saying "get down", being offended or otherwise reacting to that, before being promptly smacked in the face by whatever she was warning them abt.

Hornet doing weird, obscure spider things.

Ghost: WHAT is THAT?? uumuu: uumuu emoji face

Where does the shade get its sword? Is it a void-sword? Did they scavange it? Did they make it???

The actual guttural horror of falling into the centipedes in deepnest.

The irony of feeling incredibly sad and hurt at thk's pain, but absolute bloodlust for pure knight.

What was written upon the journal found with the corpse in ash at hollownest’s edge. Alt: h. how did ash even get up there.

[oohlook-thevoid]

After my friend mentioned mental health resources to me yesterday I was like, ok when the webchat on this one site opens up tomorrow I’ll go talk to someone there about the stuff that’s bugging me. I go on today, it turns out that my local authority has created a new site so I can no longer use this one. I’m like ok I’ll go to the new site. The new site doesn’t have a webchat, it just has counselling with waiting lists. I try to look for another webchat but everything is a crisis line. And like, I’m not in a crisis but I’ve got some problems I’d like to talk over with someone and get advice on so basically now I’m just gonna have to not bother. And I’ll just deal with this all later when it comes to a head when I start uni. yay.

[stackthedeck]

106 and 109 for mattfoggy if you want (*﹏*;)

Anon love and light of my life thank you for this! This is an exercise in being conscious so the word count goal is under 2k yes! just barely

106. “I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”

109. “That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think?”

oof this turned out very angsty but idk what you expected actually looking back at the prompts this could have gone way fluffier

Matt’s been coming to the office less and less. They all have. There’s a new crime boss threatening to pollute and corrupt Daredevil’s city. Again. Karen has thrown herself into her investigative journalism. Again. And Foggy can’t stand to be alone in the office knowing that they’re both out there on the street trying to get themselves killed. Again.

Foggy sent a text to Matt this morning, just a simple “we need to talk, come to the office.” A part of him was worried Matt wasn’t going to show. He hated that any part of him could entertain the notion. Hated that Matt had proved that part right before.

But Matt did show right as Foggy was finished packing his things. Right as he tossed their sign into the trash. Matt frowns, not the heartbroken look Foggy was expecting, but the kind of look Foggy’s mom gives him when he gives his nieces and nephews candy before dinner. 

Matt touches the wall where the sign used to be screwed on then cocks his head towards the trash. “That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Foggy shrugs, confident that Matt will get the gesture from the sound of the box rattling in his arms or how his muscles sound or however Matt senses anything. “But so are the horns on your fetish gear. We’re all entitled to a little melodrama.”

Matt grabs the sign out of the trash. “We’re not doing this again.”

“This is all we do. Crime happens in one of the biggest cities in the world and you get wrapped up in your one-man courtroom justice and Karen follows you on your little crusade that the courts or the police can’t possibly help you with, that I can’t possibly help you with. You blow off paperwork and court dates and depositions and there’s no one to keep everything organized and scheduled and suddenly I’m all alone in a law firm that can’t get clients even though we’re free. If we’re not going to act like a law firm why the fuck do we need a sign!”

“We need a sign because Karen and I are so close.” Matt shoves his way into the office, dropping the sign on Karen’s empty desk. He reaches for Foggy’s box of things but he clutches it to his chest as he steps away.

“We’re going to get all the evidence we need and you and I are going to step into court and put him behind bars. That is what we do!”

“I’m sick of this cycle,” Foggy groans, “what happened to helping the little guy? When was the last time you heard a rent dispute case or a domestic battery case? You are not helping the little guy, Matt, you are fighting the big guys and that’s not the same thing.”

“I’m cleaning up this city,” Matt says, cool and calm despite the white knuckle grip he has on his cane, the way Foggy can practically hear his teeth grinding. He would make a great lawyer.

“And I’m making it a better place and I would like some help.”

“I know.” Matt slumps against the desk, hand rubbing over the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry Foggy, I’m tired and I just need rest and that’s not an excuse, you’re right I should be here too.”

“No, no, no.” Foggy puts down his box only to step closer to Matt and think about touching him. “I am not letting you come in here with broken ribs and a split lip running off an hour of sleep, that’s not going to help anyone.”

“Do you want me to come in or not?”

“I want you to take care of yourself, asshole!” Foggy looks at Matt, his glasses slipping lower down his nose, and he can see a black eye and nasty bruise on his cheek. “I want you to get a full eight hours of sleep.”

“You know I can’t do that and you know exactly why.”

“Yeah, I do,” Foggy huffs, “ and I don’t want you going out at night with broken ribs and an hour of sleep, you are going to get yourself killed!”

“I won’t stop being Daredevil, people need me, my city—”

“I’m not asking you to choose between Daredevil and the law firm.” Foggy reaches for the sign, but Matt pulls it behind his back before he can grab it. They’re not wrestling for it, they’re not five. And Matt would win. “Hence the sign. I want you to be Daredevil to the best of your abilities and if that means becoming nocturnal, I won’t stop you.”

“Foggy, I need this law firm, I need you here,” Matt sighs, “Am I not the one-man courtroom you think I am. I don’t make my own justice, I bring them to justice. I need you and Karen and the law.”

“You need to sleep and seek medical attention.” Foggy rolls his eyes. “I just rolled my eyes by the way.” Even when he’s mad, he still has the knee-jerk reaction to help Matt even when he knows he doesn’t need it. He could be a dick, let his anger roll out of him, and have Matt be none the wiser but goddamn it, he does not want to hurt Matt, never.

“Every case that I have worked on, all the evidence I bring you and the police has been perfect. I am not slipping.” That’s what people who are slipping say. “Why do you care if I’m sleeping at night, it doesn’t affect you? I never let it affect anyone but me and that will not change.”

“Why do I care about you?” Foggy scoffs. “Because I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass. So you are going to let me dissolve our practice until you can get it together.”

“You love me?” Suddenly everything in Matt softens like a puppet whose strings have been cut and all the tension gives way to nothing. He looks so tired as his mouth struggles to form words.

“Obviously,” Foggy sighs, “that’s not the important part, the important part is you getting your life in order.”

“I love you too.”

“If you did, you wouldn’t make me fear for your life every night.”

“I’m not putting away the suit.”

“I’m not making you wake up at six in the morning for court when you sleep at five.”

“Foggy, I was serious when I said I need you.” Matt steps forward and suddenly they’re chest to chest. “I need us, I need this law firm.”

“You need—”

“I need something to come back to.” Matt takes Foggy’s cheek in his hand and Foggy doesn’t lean into it because he’s fucking furious goddamn it. But he doesn’t pull away either. “Knowing that I have a life outside the suit, something to come home to, it keeps me from being reckless.”

“Daredevil isn’t reckless? I rolled my eyes again.”

“I know I sound ridiculous, I know I’m asking too much.” Matt rubs his thumb over Foggy’s cheek and despite himself, he leans into the touch, into the rough callous of his fingertips. Matt smiles, his breath catching. “But please, let me come home to you.”

“Just promise me you’ll come home.”

“If it’s to you?” Matt leans in and kisses him. Foggy shouldn’t kiss back because this was supposed to be a breakup, an intervention. But Matt’s lips are soft and he can barely taste iron from his split lip and touching him means that he’s here and not out bleeding in the street.

“Always. It’s what we do.”