#argh adulting is hard

[saydams]

a rant about neurological testing

so i told my psychiatrist that i was thinking of trying to get tested for autism (i'm sure i am autistic, did many many years of research to be sure, but was never formally diagnosed). and she said "oh i'd better put you on the wait list right now because it's super long, don't worry we'll have plenty of time to talk about it before you get the the front of the line".

fine ok. and i look up her company to see how they are on diagnosing adults and surprise they are very good for that, one of the few who does it a lot. so, great!

imagine my surprise when i am scheduled for an appointment with neurological testing within the month. i dont want to say no and not bea able to test later, so i guess i'm doing this? also weird: it's on zoom. and just one day?? i dont know maybe i'm confused about what this involves

anyway! my appointment was today. and apparently it was some sort of audition to see if i can move on to the next step. i had to explain to the tester (who wasnt even from the same org as my psych, he's from some other place...) why i was there and i wasnt sure what to say so i guessed as best i could. and he kept getting interrupted? like people kept coming in and talking to him? and he didnt mute himself or anything.

so i guess i passed the audition because he said he was going to have his office send me a link to an online evaluation and after he got the results from that he would see about having me come in for testing.

anyway! i got the link and sat down to do the assessment and it turns out it is 30 minutes of video games which i am SO BAD AT--i hit the wrong button a lot and double click when im supposed to single click so i will accidentally pick the same square twice or whatever and it hurts my hands and the games all beep and flash and its awful.

then it is time for questionaires and most of them are about "the child" and it warns me to take into account what is appropriate for the child at the child's age. and i assume they mean me but im not a kid so i guess they mean me WHEN i was a child but at what age? all the ages? so i guessed and i tried to average everything accross my ages and i had no one to ask and no way to write and clarify anything and then they asked all these drug questions but i dont do drugs and some of the questions were about what happened when i abused drugs and there was no option for not applicable so i just hit "no" but even though i think that was what i was supposed to do i still had a panic attack and the whole thing was the worst

and i have no idea if it will give anyone an accurate picture of anything and i am so stressed and upset now.

anyway. i am not going to do anything else today. since th test i have sat with some tea and read a book. i feel a bit better (so now i'm just mad, not panicky anymore). and i am going to make myself go for a walk this evening when it's not sunny. (it's too bright i can't handle it now)

i hope everyone else has a better day! if you also had a rough task today, i offer sympathetic internet hugs or a friendly cup of tea.

[theexorcistiii]

I wish I could move out so bad SIGH

[notroosterbradshaw]

Writing > working and getting paid.

[bvlletproof-heart]

I think a huge thing that really causes tension in the relationships between kids and their parents is that parents genuinely forget what it feels like to be a child.

They forget how overwhelming the world can be. They forget what it's like to be curious. They forget what it's like to learn new things.

Parents just seem to have this expectation, especially with teens, for them to be full actualized adults.

[my-castles-crumbling]

smooth - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 121

Sirius Black is alluring.

With one smile, he can make any girl turn into a giggling, blushing mess.

Sirius Black is charming.

With just a few words, he can talk himself out of almost any situation, make adults laugh and let go of at least the little things.

Sirius Black is captivating.

Everyone watches as he walks down halls. People want to be him or be with him. He almost glides, surefooted, the picture of confidence and ease.

Sirius Black is-

"Argh!"

He's falling, quite literally tumbling head-over-heels down the hard stone steps, all because he was too flustered by Remus Lupin's goofy grin to pay attention to where his own two feet were going.

"Smooth," James hisses at him, laughing madly.

[utapri-translations-uuuu]

ASSMU Behind the Stage Ver.B [Natsuki, Syo, Ai, Nagi, Yamato] - Translation

Please do not repost/retranslate without permission.

Ai: It is interesting that towards the end of the song, when the 18 of us sing together, the position of the five of us splits into two, with me in the center.

Ai: On the right are Natsuki and Yamato, who are large and adult-like, and on the left are Syo and Nagi, who are small and cute.

Nagi: Nagi may be small and cute, but my feelings are the greatest, so I’ll make the audience more excited than anyone else.

Natsuki: Wah! You’re so lovely, Nagi-kun! Not only are you cute but you’re also cool! Gyuu!

Syo: W-Wait a minute!!

Nagi: Woah!

Syo: Wait, Natsuki! Don’t go hugging Nagi! If you’re gonna do that, it should be with the super cool me.

Natsuki: I understand. Of course, Syo-chan is always cute and cool too. Gyuu!

Syo: Argh! I got it, but-! You’re squeezing too hard!!

Nagi: Jeez, what are you two doing? It can’t be helped. Nagi will teach you how to hug more cutely. Come here for a second, Natsuki.

Natsuki: Okay. Is it okay if I just wait here like this?

Nagi: Yes. Lean down a bit more. Like that. Here we go. Gyuu~ Then let’s both look at Syo and wink! How was that?

Natsuki: It makes it look like we get along well, which is very good.

Syo: Wow, that was damn clean.

Yamato: Hey, Natsuki. If you have any energy left over, be my opponent.

Natsuki: Really? That sounds fun too.

Ai: That kind of thing should be done after practice, not now. Incidentally, I'm pretty confident in my own skills though.

Syo: I mean, I'm not losing either. I'm not talking about height or arm wrestling! What's needed for a live performance is spirit! I'm going to put my heart and soul into singing and dancing for my fans.

Yamato: Yeah, exactly. I can’t waste time. I need more stamina to put on the best live performance I can. Should I increase my training? First, 500 push-ups!

Syo: No, that's ridiculous. We finished practicing the basics and now it's time for the dance lesson.

Yamato: Don't be so rigid about something being a little out of order. Let's do it together! 1, 2, 3…

Syo: I haven't said I'm going to do it yet! Ah, damn it!

Yamato: 4, 5, 6…

Syo: 7, 8, 9, 10

Ai: Okay. I'll leave the push-ups to you two. Shall the rest of us go over the moves again?

Natsuki: Yes! That’s right, Nagi-kun. How about we try to incorporate a moment of interaction with the fans like we did just now in the song?

Nagi: That might be good. Let’s see…

Syo: (out of breath) Hey, don't just leave me like this, do something about it!!

Ai: (sigh) It can’t be helped… Yamato! Let's stop that for now. Since we're all here, let's all review the choreography together so that we're all in sync.

Yamato: Now that you mention it, you’re right. Got it.

Syo: Thank god! I'm so glad Ai’s here.

Natsuki: Ai-chan is our center not only in that part of the choreography but also figuratively.

Nagi: I guess I can kinda see it.

Yamato: Natsuki, that was a good line!

Syo: I feel like having Ai in the group gives it a nice balance. Let the five of us create a new harmony.

Ai: I think I understand what everyone is trying to say. Well, thank you. Now then, I think we should get back to the lesson. After this, Syo and Yamato will do push-ups. Let's start again from the beginning.

Yamato: Sounds good. It’s the perfect schedule.

Syo: Let’s do that. I’ll do my best!

Natsuki: Then I'd like to join in on the push-ups too.

[sundalion]

Argh the Ahsoka series makes me so grgrgrggrr

Sabine learning to fight like a jedi is so frustrating to watch when you know for a fact she's been trained in using the dark saber!! There's LITERALLY an episode dedicated to her frustrations as a Mandalorian having the duty of the manda'lor and not knowing how to use a lightsaber!!

She finds the root of her frustrations and tries so hard to learn, AND SHE DOES! Erasing her history using a lightsaber, literally knowing the forms, is like erasing a part of her whole character development!! She's like an angry teenager in Ahsoka, which she obviously kinda was in Rebels BUT SHE ISNT ANYMORE she's a young adult who's experienced a lot and witnessed a war. She has experience and is acting like that's not true!

I'm not saying she should've won the fight against Shin, in fact that first fight should've just been choreographed very differently! Like you can make an epic fight with two inexperienced padawans without making it look,,, plain. Maybe take the actual forms and make Sabine and Shin go through them with fighting,, but make them balance wrong or swing too aggressive, make them both have a lot of openings in their defense and attack hits. Make them,, I dunno LOOK like they both know some jedi fighting stances and forms but, not be confident in their stance,, not do them quite correctly making them open to attacks.

It's just,,, the idea of the Ahsoka series is good, having someone find a clue to where Thrawn and Ezra is,, seeing the aftermath of Ezra's and Kanan's decisions,, how the loss has affected Sabine, but also the rest of the Spectre's. Having a chance to find Ezra with the consequences of Thrawn being found too.

It's a good concept it really is, and I did get hooked but it's small things like these (not small at all) that just,, ruins the experience.. like have the people who made, acted and directed this show even watched Rebels? Do they even know the characters? What really made them who they ended up being by the last season? Have they analyzed the characters and how they act, how they emote and how complex of actual people they are? Their backgrounds, their beliefs? LIKE ARGH THEY MIGHT HAVE BUT IT SURE DOESNT SEEM LIKE ITTT

Another ick is when Sabine cuts her hair and they act like she didn't have it short for most of her life 💥💥

[kookslastbutton]

Still got it ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: "Say it again. I dare you to say that shit again, y/n."

or

On your 10th wedding anniversary you decide to voice out some slight marital concerns to your husband Yoongi. You also slip out that you don't think he can get you off given the fact that the last time the two of you got it on was months ago. Yoongi makes you eat your words.

Pairing: doctor!Yoongi x wife!reader (f.)

AU/genre: smut, fluff, slight angst, marriage AU, non-idol AU, aged up (Yoongi is 38)

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: slight brat!reader, sub!reader, dom!yoongi, oral (f), swearing, begging kink, rough sex, biting kink, edging, penetration, vaginal fingering, foreplay, some nipple play, dirty talk, orgasm denial, squirting, doctor kink, slight marital issues (Yeah, sex mostly lmao)

Now Playing: Yeah, I said it - Rihanna

A/N: hey thanks for stopping by 😊 husband!yoongi is such a dream so i wrote this 😍 anyway pls enjoy.

You had to admit, he was still quite a catch but watching Yoongi re-adjust in his seat for the hundredth time and tap his fingers on the table impatiently wasn't how you pictured celebrating your 10th anniversary. Oh wait! Actually, you're anniversary was last week but there was an emergency at the hospital and Yoongi being an ER surgeon was called in last minute.

"I'm sorry honey but work just called and it's urgent. I have to go in. I know we were going out for our anniversary tonight but we'll have to postpone those plans."

You gave him a nod in response before he pressed a quick peck to your lips and slipped out the door. This was becoming the norm. Yoongi practically lived at the hospital. Being recently promoted as the Director of Operations at your job caused you to be out of the house quite a bit as well. The only time you and your husband spent together was in bed, sleeping. Maybe mutually passed out too, depending on the day. Enough was enough. You needed to resolve this.

Now back to the present. You spoke up.

"You're anxious."

"I'm not." He denied, stilling his fingers.

"You are. I can tell you want to leave."

"I don't want to leave y/n. I'm completely fine. Here, the food is coming."

Your waiter placed the dishes in front of you before moving to greet the next table. Yoongi watched you as you picked up your fork slowly. You hesitated before placing it back down on the table.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

The look on your face was one he was familiar with. You had something to say and he wasn't going to like it.

"Our marriage is hitting a wall."

"What? That's not true. Where's this coming from? Our marriage is fine." The look on your husband's face was nothing short of confusion.

"How can it be fine? We hardly see each other anymore. You rushing in the door at 5am while I rush out doesn't count as quality time you know. We're like two ships in the night." Your voice grew harsh but Yoongi's stayed nonchalant.

"Honey we're busy adults. I know we haven't had a ton of time on our hands lately but-"

"Lately? Nothing exciting has happened between us in months Yoongi. Don't you see? I feel like I don't even have a husband anymore."

"Y/n, what are you talking about? Your husband's right here. I'm Min Yoongi and your Min Y/n. We don't need every moment of our marriage to have earth shattering romance for that to be true."

"I know we don't need constant romantic gestures but it'd like some. It shouldn't all just go away because you think it should."

"Since when did I say I want it to go away? Are we not on a date right now? Doing romantic things and all that shit."

"All that shit. Wow, how did you ever woo me?"

"Well, it wasn't that hard after getting you in my bed. You were all over me."

"Oh don't get cocky. It was my bed, not yours."

"Whatever, it was still me drilling into you while you screamed, 'Argh Yoongi faster, faster'. You were ready to marry me right then and there. And oh look, that's what happened."

"You know what? It doesn't even matter. Especially since we haven't had sex in months. You probably can't even get me off anymore it's been so long." You crossed your arms.

"You don't mean that." He scoffed, looking straight into your eyes.

"Have I ever not meant what I say?"

"Hurry up and eat y/n. We're leaving in 10 minutes."

"Have something to prove do you?"

"It certainly seems that way, given that my wife doubts me."

Wanting to rile him up more you smirked. "Well good luck convincing me, Dr. Min."

Any form of amusement left your husband in that moment.

"We're leaving. Now."

Once the front door of your house slammed shut Yoongi practically jumped on you, shoving you to the nearest wall. Gripping on both sides of your hips he connected your lips together. You let out a small moan which Yoongi took as his opportunity to push his tongue between your lips and into your mouth. You tried putting up a fight with your own tongue but you loss quickly.

"Stop it," he mumbled before lifting your right leg up and hooking it around his waist.

He began grinding his bulge against your center, causing you to bring your hands up to his hair and yank on the soft strands. He was definitely hard. That you can guarantee. He moved to your neck moments later, sucking on the delicate skin before biting down on it.

"Yoongi!" You cried out in pleasure.

"Too hard?" He asked.

"No, no keep going."

With your approval he continued licking, sucking, and biting your neck. You knew there were definitely going to be marks tomorrow. Thank god it was the weekend.

Releasing your leg from around his waist he lifted you up in his sturdy arms and carried you into your shared bedroom. He threw you on the bed.

"Undress," he commanded. If it were any other time you'd definitely refuse, just to test his patience a little. But you hadn't had sex in months so without hesitation you pulled the silk blouse over your head quicker than you could think. He loosened his tie from around his neck before ripping his own shirt open, exposing those muscular shoulders you loved digging your fingernails into.

Skirt now on the ground, you reached behind your back to unhook your bra. Your breasts bounced slightly as you moved to pull your lace panties off and toss them with your skirt on the floor.

"Fuck." You mutually swore when you both gazed at each other's nakedness. His cock was already leaking with precum and you were sure your come was going to spill out any minute just by looking at it.

Eagerly, he joined you on the bed and took your face between his palms to pull you into a rough kiss. His hands moved down to your breasts seconds after, gropping them harshly.

"Your nipples are quite stiff," he observed.

"No shit, your gropping the hell out of my tits right now."

He smirked slightly before taking the hardened buds between his fingers. He rolled them between his thumb and third finger, causing a shock of pleasure to rush through your body. If he doesn't get to your pussy soon your fingers might slip down there themselves. Just saying.

After giving your nipples a harsh tug, Yoongi bent his head down to your chest. Your back arched as he licked around your left nipple teasingly.

"Just suck it. Can't wait much longer," you demanded.

"You should try saying that again. I think you're forgetting something."

"Pl-please?"

"Please what?"

This fucker, you thought.

"Please…Dr. Min."

Satisfied, he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking it firmly. He moved to your right breast and repeated the motion. After a few minutes of sucking your tits he guided you down on your back. He began planting open mouth kisses down your stomach but stopped just above your cunt. Prying open your legs he smirked again.

"So I can't make you cum anymore, but apparently I can still make you wet."

"Who said I was wet?" You argued. Yes, you knew you were obviously soaked down there. But you couldn't just let him win that easily.

"Hm," he began, fingers gently grazing across your clit, "you're telling me that if I push my fingers in your cunt, curl them a bit, and pull them back out, they won't be completely drenched?"

Before you could deny it a spark of pleasure surged through your body. One of Yoongi's fingers had slipped into your aching sex in one quick motion.

"Ah fuck, I knew you were lying. You're picking up a bad habit baby." He slipped in another finger, pumping and curling them both between your walls. You forgot how much further his fingers could reach compared to yours. "Shit, it's a fucking lake down here."

"This is-argh, nothing," you protested.

Without hesitation Yoongi slipped in a third finger. You gasped loudly at the new intrusion but it was nothing compared to the moan you let out when he began lapping at it your cunt with his tongue. And yes, he continued pushing his fingers in and out of you at the same time.

"Ah shit! Don't fucking stop, Yoongi. Feels too good."

Wanting more, he pulled his fingers out of you and wrapped his mouth completely over your cunt. His tongue licked across your sex hotly before dipping between your folds.

"Arghh fuck, fuck fuck fuck!" You cursed, pulling at the bed sheets. Hips arching up and thighs spread even more apart, you pushed your cunt into Yoongi's mouth. A deep groan come out of him in response.

"Well, I think I still remember where your g-spot is Mrs. Min."

"Don't flatter yourself, you're a doctor. Of course you know. Also I still haven't come ye-." Before you could finish that sentence your first orgasm of the night ripped through your body. Your husband's lips now glistened with your arousal to which he gladly wiped off with his tongue.

"What was that? Sorry, you didn't get to finish what you were saying since you were too busy coming all over my mouth." Smart ass.

"I need your cock in me, and I need it fast," you spat back.

"Not until you say it."

"Say what?"

"That I can't make you come."

"Yoon-."

"Say it again. I dare you to say that shit again, y/n."

"I-I meant with your cock!" Hey you wanted to keep your pride a little longer. Had to think of something.

"You're fucking unreal," he scoffed before taking his cock into his hand and stroking it a bit. "Alright, I'll fuck you. But you're not just coming. You're gonna squirt all over me."

Hovering over your body he urged you to wrap your arms and legs around him. The tip of his cock brushed over your folds gently before sinking into your wet heat. You both moaned in unison at the delicious stretch.

"Fuck, you're still soaked down here. Tell me when," he said.

After giving him the go ahead your husband started moving himself gradually in and out of you but it wasn't enough.

"Mhmm Yoongi faster," you pleaded.

"Now where have I heard that before?" He teased, eyes shimmering with playfulness.

"Yoongi!"

"Alright, alright. Hang tight baby." Yoongi sped up his movements in an instant. His cock began digging so far down your cunt it had you screaming and clenching like crazy. The scratches on his back were going to be quite the sight when all was said and done.

"That's it baby. Keep squeezing around me. God I missed your sexy cunt. Wanna be in it all night."

"Nghhh, Yoongi! I want that! W-we don't work tomorrow so we can. "

"Fuck, I'll do it. I'll do anything for you. I love you. Shit, my cock is so drenched right now!"

"Arghh Dr. Min!"

"Scream that louder baby! I love it when you use my title." Yoongi took his cock all the way out before slamming back into your wet heat. And yes, he was still fucking hard as a rock.

"Dr. M-Min! Oh god. Yeah, keep going. I love your cock!"

Continuing to fuck you into oblivion was going heavenly, until you had to come.

"Please, Doctor." You begged your husband.

"Please what? What do you need?"

"I gotta to, I need-."

"Need what?"

"I need to come! Fuck!"

"You need a plum?"

"No, I said I need to come!"

"You're numb?"

"Dammit Yoongi, this isn't time to fake deaf. Let me come!"

"Oh you need to come? I'm sorry but my wife said I couldn't do that anymore. With my cock at least. Sorry to disappoint you. But if you'd like, I can edge you for all eternity."

"No! Don't! You're wife is a fucking liar who was just mad about being apart from her husband for so long. She didn't mean it. She just missed you. She's also gonna make a mess of your cock soon whether you let her or not!" Screaming you dug your nails into his shoulders. The fucker decided to thrust his hips further against your own, as if he wasn't already deep enough.

"What's this? Is my wife saying she was wrong?"

"Yes, yes she was wrong. She says she's sorry and that she really needs to come. Please, Dr. Min."

Happy with your declaration of defeat Yoongi decided it was time to let you have your release. "Damn right she needs to come. Coat this cock baby. Want to feel you gushing arou-AH FUCKING HELL!"

Ropes of his come suddenly shot through your cunt all at once, making you feel so full. You were going to say something smart but your own orgasm interrupted you. And what a fucking mess that was. You ended up squirting all over the bed and all over your husband.

"Oh hell yeah baby!"

"Oh my god! Are you-are you okay? Yoongi!"

"Are you kidding? I'm living for this! I told you I was going to make you squirt, didn't I?"

"Yeah but…"

"But what? Didn't think I could do that either?" He snorted, pulling himself out of you.

"Hey! I said I was sorry."

"I know. I'm sorry too. And you're right, we've been apart for too long. I promise I'm gonna fix that but right now, I think we should clean up."

Biting your lip slightly you looked into his eyes. "We're going again aren't we? After we clean up a little? I mean if you're tired then-"

"Ride my cock or let me take you from behind?"

"Both. But I was thinking, can I suck your cock first?"

A/N: I'm so pleased that you'd come read my fics and do hope that you will find some joy in them. That said I'd really love to hear your feedback more than anything. It helps me grow as an author and put out more fics for you all to enjoy. 💕

Masterlist

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Immortal Beloved - Chapter Five.

Argh! I hope nobody was waiting on this being posted hours ago. I had a lie-in before running errands this morning. Here we are, though. Smut incoming! I hope it was worth the wait :)

Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,264

Warnings - 18+ only. Adult themes + vampire content throughout. Minors DNI!

“No, don’t even fucking think about it, don’t do it. Ahhh, shit.” 

“John,” Bryn whispered, her hands stroking his upper arms, their scorching kisses ceasing. “You’ve gone tense. What is the matter?”  

A sudden attack of inferiority. That was the matter, John making a small noise of frustration as he looked down upon her beauty, shaking his head and burying his face against her neck as he laughed with discomfort.  

“How the fuck am I supposed to please a woman who’s been around so much longer than I have?” He had to hand it to himself, not suffering a verbal faux pas and coming out with anything potentially offensive, such as the likely very high number of lovers she must’ve had at her age.  

She pulled him from his hiding place, nuzzling him, her mouth lowering to run her tongue up the column of his throat. “You are doing very well, trust me.” He seemed accepting of that, their kisses resuming, his hand sliding down to brush against the petals of her sex. Yet when he began to stroke, the pressure a little too firm, something clumsy about his touch she sensed didn’t usually afflict him... 

“John, stop a moment.” He growled in frustration, Bryn holding his face in her hands. “Come out of your thoughts a little. I meant it when I said you were doing well, but now you are overthinking the process. Relax.”  

A small frown creased between his eyebrows. “Sounds like you might think I’m lousy already, and I ain’t even started yet.” 

“No, no. I presume no such thing,” she was quick to reassure, reaching to stroke his face. Pushing him back to sit on his heels, her hand reached down to where she was wet with want for him, her dewy fingers then pushing against his lips, John sucking them with a soft grunt. “See? I very much want you; you do stir desire within me. If you are open to learning, though, I can show you exactly how to touch me? Not all women are the same, after all.”  

He could either take it as a stab to his manhood, or he could be mature and learn, rather than continue and suffer more shakes to his confidence. It swirled in conflict within him, never having this kind of attack of nerves before while in bed with a woman. The nine he’d been with before her had never made any complaint. Then again, he’d never felt the tug of inferiority with them like he had to concede he did with Bryn.  

“Alright,” he asserted, nodding downwards, “show me.” 

Ahhh, he was open to a little tutelage. Seldom had Bryn encountered men who were. Women, yes. Men, though? Their pride was usually much too great to allow for it. Moving some of the large, decorative velvet pillows upon her bed behind her, she leaned back, spreading her long legs while reaching to splay her folds open. Immediately, his pupils inked. “You have never watched a woman touch herself before, have you?” 

He shook his head dumbly, swallowing hard.  

“Then you shall enjoy it, trust me.” Wetting her fingertips, she looked down, taking his gaze with her as he watched her dampened fingers begin to circle over her clit. “Like this, soft circles to begin with. Keep the pressure very light, for here I am just as sensitive as you are upon the very tip of your cock. Then alternate, let your fingers skim back and forth until you feel it begin to swell, then use more pressure. Like this.”  

He was transfixed, his heart hammering like thunder. Watching her was perhaps the most erotic thing he’d ever witnessed, Bryn biting her lip as her head tipped back, moving her hand when she felt his fingers join hers. Oh, he took instruction very, very well. “Yes, oh, that’s wonderful. Keep going like that.”  

Further words were not needed, John receiving all the encouragement necessary from her moans, leaning to her, scattering kisses at her neck. He mapped the art of his pleasure over the black lines decorating her skin, tongue finding each, skimming, lowering, teeth softly clamping upon her nipple before moving to replace the fingers at her bud with his mouth instead.  

His tongue possessed the kind of skill that needed no adjustment, circling her gently, firmly, gently again, her hips jolting as she mewled, her fangs suddenly shooting out. He opened his eyes, raising an eyebrow.  

“It’s a good response. When aroused, my fangs sometimes pop out of their own accord.” Making them recede, she winked at him, her hands skimming the sides of his head. 

He chuckled softly, sucking at her folds. “Yeah, thought it might be that.” No matter the cause, the response was that it made his cock harden even further. It was just another thing he noted as different, being in bed with a vampire lover. Her flesh only warmed to his touch, something that was strange to get used to, especially when he pushed two fingers into the sumptuousness of her cunt, wet walls hugging as he hooked them, stroking back and forth, his tongue flicking over her clit rapidly.  

“Right there, hmm?” he chuckled when she wailed loudly. 

“Oh, don’t you dare stop!” Some parts of her he had absolutely no trouble with stroking near perfectly, it seemed, Bryn feeling the pleasure pour through her, warm wells trickling down her spine and further puddling at his hand as her thighs writhed against his face. Another thing he noticed as she began to ascend was the fact her chest started to rise and fall rapidly, but he was not about to cease what he was doing to ask over it, not when she was so close to... 

“Ahhh, fuck!” Her legs virtually knotted around his head as the blinding white of her undoing throbbed through her in glimmering waves, her slender muscles tensing as John smiled with satisfaction against the wet of her, softly kissing her folds. There he’d been, panicking he would be classed as a dud in the bedroom by his lover of much greater experience, and he’d just made her come quicker than he had any other woman. “I see you grinning down there, John Shelby.” 

He snorted softly, turning his head to kiss her inner thigh. “Mm, ‘course I am.” Another few kisses were scattered, his hands moving to stroke swirls over her hips. “I like watching a woman enjoy herself.”  

“Enjoy myself?” she exclaimed, laughing softly. “Gods, I am so fucking tongue drunk I can barely think straight!” That made him laugh, Bryn continuing. “You shall be ridden hard for that.”  

He was on his back in seconds, raising an eyebrow and nodding in the direction of his rigid cock. “Climb aboard, then.” He blinked and she was straddling him, her eyes conveying a weight of want as she started unflinchingly at him, John feeling his heart skip on a beat. 

There was something about that look, a predatory desire she would never be able to conceal, bringing it back to him, what she truly was. He hadn’t forgotten, but now to be in the cross hairs of a vampire who viewed him with such unrelenting hunger, he remembered exactly how deadly she was.  

“No,” she whispered softly, stroking his face, her hands smoothing down over his chest as she leaned to him, offering soft, sensual kisses. “Do not fear me, my beautiful creature.” Wetting her hand against the soaking mess of her sex, she reached to grasp his cock, her lips finding his once more. He took a sharp breath through his nose, for the way she began to touch him... oh. To say the way she handled his cock was perfect would have been putting it mildly.  

His hips trembled as her hand squeezed and caressed, their kisses a blaze of filthy indulgence, Bryn reading his body in a way no human could, catering her touch to the tiniest of reactions. She drew rumbling moans from him, his cock twitching in her grip as her thumb stroked the head, soaked in precum, his teeth sharp upon her lip as he panted against her mouth. 

“Fuck, Bryn. You have to stop, or I’m gonna go off like a fucking champagne cork... Jesus... fuck!”  

Her chuckle was rich, moving her mouth to his neck. “No, I will not let you. I shall know just when to stop so that you do not.” He wasn’t too sure his trusted his own body to be so compliant, but went with it, long lashes closing, concealing the blue fire of his eyes, hissing a moan when he felt her bite down on his nipple. Her tongue circled softly, her other hand joining the one upon his cock, stroking him in tandem, the heat of it settling deep in his very bones. 

The blaze of pleasure fizzed over his nerves, charging through him, his stomach tensing as his cock twitched, Bryn removing her hands when she sensed it, letting him cool down. Waiting for his body to steady, she teased kisses across his neck and chest, her nails trailing over his thighs before she grasped him once more. Again, she worked him up to dance at the edge of the stars, pausing, resuming, until he was a man reduced to quivers, a moaning mess upon her bed. 

No woman had ever rendered him such a state, and he wasn’t even inside of her. 

Sensing it was exactly what he needed, seeking to abate her own ache, she moved astride his hips, guiding him to her soaked opening and sinking down, her mouth dropping open. “Oh, by the fucking stars above, that is such a beautiful, thick cock.”  

His smirk was all confidence, knowing well what he possessed between his legs, the pleasure of feeling her around him almost crippling as she began to gyrate upon him, her nails softly trailing his chest. Lord above, the way she fucked him, the knowledge she possessed in how to move her body, the intentional pulses of her walls around his shaft... she had him mindless, his body trembling as he stroked her smooth skin.  

The feeling of her warming to the heat of his cock did something so pleasant to his insides, he knew he’d ache to feel it again and again, pulling her to his chest, their mouths locking, his fingers tangling in her tumbling curls. There was truly nobody like her.  

He craved to unleash the dominance that prowled within him like a caged tiger, but for that moment, being ridden slowly and very, very thoroughly into the bed was enough. It wasn’t long though, before the tempo and control changed. 

“Fucking like that, don’t you, eh? Like being manhandled a bit, thrown around, having this pretty little cunt fucked hard,” he panted, flattening her against the far wall of her bedroom, his fingers dug in beneath her thighs as he forced wails from her with each brutally delivered thrust.  

Oh, having a man not afraid to be a man with her. She’d missed it. Too many men over the centuries had proceeded with caution, knowing the nature of her beast and so thus keeping theirs tethered. Not John. Oh no. John Shelby let his run wild.  

“Yeah. Let me hear them pretty wails, my deadly beauty. Fucking love being split on this cock, don’t ya?”  

And he could dirty talk like an absolute champion. 

“Yes, yes I do! Oh, gods, John. Fuck me harder!” 

And he did. And it was like a thousand fires raging beneath her skin, their kisses molten sin and dripping in lust as he groaned low and deep, feeling her walls fluttering around his cock strongly. The gramophone in the corner blared thumping jazz, their moans escalating over the music, Bryn shredding a layer of skin from his back with her nails, the flush of ecstasy winding through her core suddenly surging through her veins with force.  

And still, he didn’t stop.  

She’d quite forgotten how much energy the average twenty-eight-year-old man had, her most recent lovers all quite a bit older than he. Carrying her to the bed, his hand smacked hard welts upon her backside with every step, Bryn giggling and screaming with the mirth of it, the thrill of him, finding herself thrown onto the bed.  

“Turn over.”  

Oh, a man who commanded of her. “No. Shan’t.” 

An amused grin played his lips. “Gonna be a bad girl, hmm?”  

She liked this, liked it more than she’d imagine, putting aside her ancient strength and instead, enjoying being manhandled like a ragdoll by her young lover. “Perhaps.” 

“Fine.” Folding his arms, he nodded downwards. “You either do as you’re fucking told, Brynhild, or you don’t get that.”  

The way her name in full sounded upon the deep rasp of his voice, lowered a few octaves by lust, coupled by the sight of a very hard cock pointed right at her...  

“How do you require me?” she grinned, teasing her nipples to peaks with her fingernails. 

“On your front, arse up.” Instantly, she complied. “Mm, that’s better. Good girl.” Sliding back into her sopping core, he gripped her hips, beginning to pound her from behind so forcefully, the bed beneath them shook. And to think, he’d worried about being able to satisfy her. He truly had no cause for such concern. His cock arrowed her insides hard, slowing, speeding up, until he had her shuddering her way to release again, this time joining her in the clouds of bliss they both sailed into. 

“Why is it,” he began a short time later, lying on his front beside her as he enjoyed a little respite, “that when I’m fucking you, you start breathing again? Because you don’t, do ya? You don’t need to breathe at all.” 

“We often do in moments of exertion. It’s my body remembering,” she explained, tracing the freckles upon his forearm with her fingernail. “I hope you’re not so tired that I cannot enjoy a few more moments of exertion with you tonight?” 

He shook his head. “Not yet, I ain’t. Cock feels a bit sore, but it’ll be alright.”  

“I can help you with that.” Vanishing, she returned after a mere couple of seconds, clutching the bottle of whiskey he’d brought with him, a glass in her other hand. Placing them down, she decanted a large measure into the glass, popping her fangs and biting into her wrist before bleeding into the freshly poured whiskey.  

“Here.” He was hesitant as she offered the glass forth, watching the way her blood mingled with the amber liquid within the cut crystal. “There is nothing so healing as vampire blood. You shan’t be cock sore if you drink that. In fact, you’ll experience boundless energy for a few hours, sharper senses as well. Oh, and it shall amp up any pleasure you feel by about a thousand.” 

She’d never seen anyone knock back a drink so quickly.  

He handed her the glass back, the feeling of warmth radiating his chest pleasant, that familiar heat of the whiskey sinking down. It took a few moments, but when it hit him, John felt it surge through him, raw, unfiltered power, the petrol blue and peacock green tones of Bryn’s decadent bedroom suddenly brighter, the taste of the whiskey lingering upon his tongue more oaky, and his hearing...  

“I can fucking hear snoring! What the bloody hell?”  

She snorted a laugh. “That will be Albert, all the way down at the other end of the house. You will notice little things like that. What you feel is perhaps only one thousandth of what I do as a vampire. My existence is forever steeped in such intensity that I am used to it, so while you now in part feel what I do, allow me to help you experience it to the very fullest.” 

Pushing him back onto the sumptuous velvet of her bed, she captured his full lips in a kiss, her mouth descending his body, littered in little bite bruises and nail marks, circling his navel before her tongue licked a line over the dark copper hair leading downwards. His hips twitched as he watched his cock vanish into her mouth, already hard and waiting for her, her lips slipping right to the very base before slowly travelling back up once more.  

“Fuck.” His head thudded back, the slither of her tongue around the head of his hardness evoking an immediate flush of tingles, his eyes fluttering shut. He felt her blood flaring in his veins, a wildfire of ancient sanguine pumping through his heart rapidly. The experience was unlike anything he could truly liken it to, similar to the pulses of bliss before being gripped by orgasm, but gentler, his entire being feeling as it were floating, at the mercy of the spell of a sorceress.  

There was no witch, though. Just Bryn and the magic of what she was, bled now into him.  

His body hummed on a cloud of ecstasy, his hands moving to fist in her hair as his cock pulsed within her throat. Her lips tightened around him, squeezing and releasing the pressure all the way back up his shaft slowly, the noise he made in response all deep gravel, arrowing straight to her cunt.   

She added her hand to drag the length of him, following her mouth up and down, squeezing the base while her tongue ran back and forth over the head of him, making his hips buck against her deft grip. He felt himself starting to escalate rapidly, overwhelmed by the pleasure she delighted him with.  

His chest began to rise and fall faster, his arousal growing exponentially, heartbeat thundering rapidly as her mouth moved quicker upon him. That was nothing, though, to the speed her tongue flickered over the head of his cock with, so quick it was beyond comprehension.  

“God... fuck.” He gritted, Bryn moving her hand and mouth opposingly to one another, twisting and tightening on him until his further gritted curses and a sudden jerk of his cock signified his undoing.  Slowing down, she continued to caress him lightly with her hand, wringing a few more pulses of cum from him, swallowing every drop. 

“I feel you enjoyed that,” she asserted, moving to sit astride him, sheathing his still twitching cock. It should have felt too sensitive, but it didn’t. He felt unencumbered entirely, like the orgasm that had just knocked him sideways hadn’t affected his ability to feel anything but the divinity of her cunt; or stay hard.  

Vampire blood. It was truly a hell of a thing. And some people snorted Tokyo for kicks.  

“Can you speak?” she then inquired, noting him to be on mute.  

“I... erm... nah.” He was utterly dumbstruck, Bryn laughing softly, running her tongue up his chest until she reached his lips, kissing him with slow, smouldering desire. Their heated passion finally gave way to something much more sedate at around four in the morning, John sitting back on the tufted window seat of her bedroom, Bryn lying against his chest as he smoked a cigar, his free hand idly tracing swirls over one of her ample breasts.  

Outside, Birmingham was blanketed in a sparkling fall of white, huge snowflakes the size of half-crown coins still fluttering from the sky. He doubted they would be going anywhere the following evening, and he was perfectly content with that.  

“I thought I knew what cold was until I spent my first winter in the trenches,” he spoke, remembering back to his time in the Warwickshire Yeomanry, joining up as just a boy of seventeen, sent to the front lines for three years at nineteen. “It was bitter, so fucking bitter down there. If the war itself didn’t kill ya, the fucking conditions saw to it for some.” 

He’d never really spoken about his time in France to anyone, save the men he fought alongside of, those who knew, who understood. With Bryn, though, he felt inexplicably compelled to open up and reveal things about his life and himself that he had never cared to share with another. “I remember when the guns finally fell silent, it was snowing then. First time I’d heard quiet in years. 

“We used to say it was a band starting up, when all anyone could hear was the gunfire, the mines blowing. Sent some fellas mad, it did. We had to tell ourselves anything to soften it, you know. Try and make like any of us weren’t about to get blown to bits at any given fucking moment. But yeah, when it all fell silent, it was right odd. I could hear myself think again for the first time in years.” 

“You seem to not be as affected as some men have been,” she noted, her hand smoothing up and down his thigh. “Surely a testament to your strength of character.” 

He sniffed, taking another pull on the cigar between his thumb and forefinger. “You might call it that, ar. Don’t do a fella no good to be looking back all the time. Look forward so you can see what’s coming, not back at what you can’t change.” 

“I like that perspective.” Turning her head, she kissed him beneath his jaw, John meeting her lips, nuzzling her softly. “It was no doubt an absolute horror to endure.” 

He smirked, kissing her hair. “We can’t all thrive on it like you did.”  

It was true, Bryn had indeed found herself in her element back in her human life, commanding an army of men, leading them to battle. She had been a brilliant mind as a military tactician, hence why it stung her pride so very heavily that since her capture, she had only ever managed to evade the Rasmussen’s as opposed to bringing them down. If only vampires were as great in number as they once had been. 

If only she wasn’t terrified beneath it all, of it happening all over again. 

“You alright?”  

Shaking herself, she realised her silence had prompted his concern, turning to him. “I am fine, I just became lost in my thoughts for a moment. Yes, you are correct. I did thrive in battle. You should see my proficiency with an axe. It is quite the thing.” 

He snorted softly, dropping the almost finished cigar from the window and closing it, wrapping her in both arms. “Not sure I want to.” His statement, coupled with rounded eyes had her laughing, kissing his arm as she curled into him. “What I want is to take you back to bed and enjoy what time I have left, until the dawn sends you to sleep.”  

“Well, there is a way we could circumvent that,” she proposed, turning to kneel between his thighs as she reached to detangle one of her dainty, gold earrings from her hair. “I am unsure whether you would be open to such, though.” 

“The worst I can say is no,” he shrugged, offering assistance to free the strands of hair tangled within the small, art deco style hoop, Bryn eventually unclipping it and removing the other, too. 

“I can force my remaining awake by drinking your blood, and remaining, ah, active, shall we say. Before you make your decision though, it is only fair I tell you that once I have imbibed of you, I shall be able to feel your emotions, pick up on your memories, and as long as the feed is recent, always know where you are, too. Some do not entertain this idea, they feel it too personal a link to have with a vampire, but...” 

“Well, I ain’t some.” He tipped his head back, his eyebrows fluttering. “Go on.”  

Taking his hand, she shook her head. “Not just yet. Please do allow me my ultimate pleasure, which is to feed upon someone while I’m fucking them.”  

He moved at speed off the window seat, wrapping himself around her as they ventured to her messy bed once more. Keen explorations of mouths and hands followed, leading to John sitting in the centre of the bunched sheets, Bryn astride him, his fingers slowly touring her back as they shared messy, lustful kisses.  

Mewling softly against his tongue, she thrived on tiny shocks skittering through her at being split so wide around the thick of his cock, her mouth moving to his neck, kissing softly. The sound of her fangs popping sent a wave through him, a cold heat, those sharp teeth rapidly sinking into his flesh. His eyes widened, and she clasped him tighter in her grip, vanquished by her power completely as he tumbled into the moment with headlong abandon. 

He felt as if he was sailing through the stars, enveloped in entire constellations as his blood surged from his neck, her walls spasming around him, every fibre within him humming with illumination. For Bryn, drinking of gypsy blood tingled her tongue as if touched by divine nectar – and she supposed it truly was. Earthy yet sweet, a bouquet of woodland and fire, smoky and sensual.  

Biting her tongue, she sealed the wound with a little of her own blood, licking his pale skin until it was clean, holding his face in her hands. Their shared gaze didn’t falter, twin glacial blue meeting unblinkingly, and a vortex of everything that did not need words building between.  

It was profound and divine, to experience the link of attraction fortified by their blood running through each other’s veins, falling into one another, falling into kisses, falling... so contentedly falling. 

[wordsofelie]

Chapter 1

Content Warnings: Manga Spoilers, Post-Time Skip, Friends to Lovers, Enemies? (Or maybe just dense people) to Lovers, Angst, Fluff

Summary: The best way to prevent a broken heart is to tame your feelings, keep them locked in a room. At least that is what Shiroyanagi Natsumi thought. Until, she sees him again, Kuroo Tetsurou, taller, older, prettier. And she realises a heart that longs, hurts more than a heart that breaks.

Words Count: 2.8k

Kuroo Tetsurou - 黒尾 鉄朗

Shiroyagani Natsumi - 白柳夏美

黒 (black) 白 (white)

Scientists say black is the absence of all colours. Artists say it’s the only shade present in all colours. I say you are all of that –presence and absence, light and obscurity, shade and colour.

One of the most annoying tasks she has to do as the freshly-new athletic trainer of the Japan Women's Volleyball Team is to appear in a collaboration video with the coach and the team members. Shiroyanagi Natsumi has always been used to being the tallest girl in her class, which is why in first grade, her parents had made a bet on her career path — it would be whether volleyball player or modelling — but because she hated to be in the spotlight, she chose volleyball. But now, as she stands beside the athletes (and despite being 6’ tall), she feels extremely small. At least she managed to stay in shape thanks to her studies in sports science, I should have gone more to the gym, she thinks anyway.

When her coach broke the news that the sports promotion division of the Japan Volleyball Association wanted to include her in their campaign, she would have given anything to murder the obnoxious, stupid, sadist — and whatever adjective strong enough to express her hate — person in charge of that division.

According to the coach, it is important to bring to light their indispensable job. And what can she say about it, he is her boss after all and she dreamed of working with the Olympic team for years. So, she offered a tense smile and returned to her office.

“Did your dog die?”

Ito Izumi, the regular libero of the team, looks at her with big eyes.

“Of course not, I would be desperate if he did,” Natsumi mutters, a pout appearing on her lips at the mention of the loss of the love of her life, Saba, a cute and fluffy Cavalier King Charles spaniel that Natsumi adopted two-years ago. My child, as she likes to call him.

“Well you do look desperate, Nana.”

Liberos are said to be, well, straightforward. And they need to. At the end of the day, in a game they don’t have time to be precious or cautious, they just have to dive to the floor and end up with a few bruises. Natsumi never understood why one would want to do crazy things like liberos, that’s why she was fine with being a middle blocker in school. As the saying goes, clichés die hard, and Ito Izumi is no exception to the rule. She is in fact Straightforward, frank and a little bit crazy (she also happens to be the best libero of all Japan).

Natsumi only sighs, “I hate photoshoots. And why do I have to be here anyway? If I chose to be an athletic trainer and not a proper athlete it is because I don’t like getting the attention. Argh. ”

Only a few pictures have been taken, yet the athletic trainer already feels exhausted and blinded by the too-bright white lights of the flashes. The two girls are seated in a corner of the studio, taking a water break from all this agitation.

“Eww, I know you don’t like photoshoots.”

“Why are you laughing?” Natsumi asks, eyebrows raised.

“It’s just-” Izumi took a few seconds to wipe away the tears that started to form in her eyes “I just remembered the day of your graduation, when Yaku and I dragged you all the way from the toilets to take a picture.”

Her friend cringes at the mention of the memory, she softly pushes the libero. “Shut up!” Deep down Natsumi feels her heart lighten. Is that nostalgia from a time when one did not have to think about taxes and bosses and grocery shopping and whatever adult responsibility?

“I remember how Suzuki-sensei screamed at Yaku for entering the girls’ toilets.”

“He turned all red.”

They laugh so loud the make-up team turns and gives them suspicious looks.

“See, I know this would make you smile.”

Natsumi looks at Izumi, offering her a soft smile. “You always know how to make me smile.”

And this is as true as the law of gravity. Izumi never fails to make her friends smile. The girls met in high school. They both went to Nekoma, known to be a powerhouse for volleyball. Natsumi was one year above Izumi. When the latter became a first year, Natsumi was made vice-captain of the female team. She remembers when Izumi entered — or rather burst into the gymnasium. She’s so loud, everyone thought. She was grounded by the captain and had to take care of the cleaning for a whole month. One time, when Natsumi stayed a little longer to train her serves after a defeating match, Izumi told her how happy she was to be in this team. Natsumi found her naive at first, they had just lost, and terribly, how could she be happy? But as she looked at her, cleaning the polished wooden floor and acclaiming every action her teammates made, Natsumi smiled. That day, she discovered that Izumi wasn’t just loud and naive, she had a gift, one of putting the smile back on your face. Whether it was when Yaku hurt his ankle during his last high school tournament, when Kenma forgot to save his progress on dragon quests or when Kuroo turned silent for a whole month when Natsumi announced she was leaving for America. Her presence itself brings joy.

“Do you have news from Yaku by the way?” Natsumi asks.

“Of course I have. He came back from Russia last month. You know, It’s not because he broke my heart ten years ago that I resent him.” Izumi puffs out her chest, trying to express the little pride she has left through her posture.

“This sentence itself makes it obvious that you’re not over it.”

“I-well, you know how I am. I have a crush on a guy-”

“On a libero you mean.”

“Alright, alright, on a libero. I have a thing for liberos. Anyway. I confess to him. He says I’m a pain in the ass. I get over it and find a new gu-libero. That’s called the circle of life. That happened in high school with Yaku, with that Nishinoya guy, the list is long. My new target is the cutie cutie Komori from the boys’ team though.”

For anyone foreign from the situation, Izumi could be diagnosed with Emophilia. But Natsumi has known her friend for over a decade now, nothing could surprise her anymore when it comes to Izumi’s love life.

“Anyway. We’re having dinner with the boys tonight, wanna come with us? Just like the good old days.”

Natsumi knows what “good old days” mean, she knows who that includes, and as strong and independent and tough she may be, she doesn’t feel ready yet.

But maybe that’s the point of life, jumping off the cliff when one feels the least ready.

But she gets up. Somehow being in the spotlight of the cameras and getting yelled at by the photograph is less scary than where this conversation is leading to.

“I am deeply, deeply, sorry for being late.”

An infuriating, sarcastic voice resonates in the studio — or as it sounds like to the athletic trainer. That doesn’t stop her from turning around as fast as the light.

Taller. Older. Prettier. That is how Kuroo Tetsurou reflects in Natsumi’s eyes as he makes his entrance.

“Kuroo-san!” Coach Watanabe runs towards the man. “Kuroo-san, it’s good to see you.” He energetically shakes his hands.

“There was an accident on the road, I’m very sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine! Listen, girls.” The older man shouts to capture everyone’s attention. As if Natsumi’s eyes were not already glued on the tall silhouette of what appears to be a ghost. Am I time travelling? She asks herself. No way, no way, Kuro would never wear a suit.

She’s not dreaming. He is indeed wearing a suit. A black suit, making his thighs look as muscular as ever. A red tie, reminding her of his Nekoma’s jersey. A few buttons of his white shirt loose, probably in an attempt to get some fresh air — Tokyo summers are cruel — all of that means only one thing, Kuroo Tetsurou is no longer a teenager. No longer the captain of the volleyball team. No longer an awkward eighteen-year-old boy unable to confess his feelings for his best friend from the opposite gender.

When Kuroo catches sight of her, his whole world seems to be still. Did colours disappear?

“Shiro?” he whispers awkwardly, too low to make the coach stop his presentation.

“This is Kuroo Tetsurou, he is in charge of the sports promotion division of the Japan Volleyball Association. He was the one suggesting the brilliant idea of this campaign.”

So this is the obnoxious, stupid, sadist person Natsumi wanted to murder a couple of days ago. Of course, how could it be someone else? How naive of her.

If Kuroo is no longer a teenager, so is Natsumi. Her younger self would have walked past him, giving him a cold shoulder and screaming that he was the most stupid and selfish and stupid  — teenagers do have a limited list of vocabulary — person she knows. How dare he reappear in her work territory now? But her twenty-six-old self clears her throat and manages to find better words than “stupid” and “selfish”.

“Hi, Kuro”.

“Hello there, are you real or is this a very good hologram of Shiro?”

“Even though your hair looks like you just woke up, you’re not dreaming. That is me.”

“Well- I guess you look smaller. And more tanned.”

“You can thank the Californian sun for that.”

Kuroo's heart skips a beat. How could he say thank you to the Californian sun when that same sun was the one who took her from him?

“Tetsuu!” Izumi sings. However, her joy is quickly stopped by the deadly glance Natsumi is giving her.

“Did you know he would come?” Izumi reads in her friend’s eyes.

But liberos are fearless, they like to jump and dive and sometimes, to drown.

So she ignores her and slams the man on the arm, “The captain is looking fine.”

“Izumi, it’s good to see you, it’s been a long time.” (A long, long time indeed.) “How are you? Are you enjoying your new life in Italy?” he asks.

“Ew, our coach is pretty intense. The Italian championship is coming next October, so we need to prepare but apart from that pastas are good, the sun shines, and the wine is fuck-”

“Izumi, we need to go back to the photoshoot.” Natsumi interrupts. “See you later Kuro.”

As she’s about to go to the other side of the studio, Kuroo adds with a smirk. “I did not know you were into modelling now.”

That’s your fault, she wants to say, you were the one proposing this fucking campaign. But instead, she goes for something more sarcastic, after all, she is talking to Kuroo, the king of sarcasm.

“There’s many things you don’t know about me, Kuroo Tetsurou.”

If Natsumi had got up and tried to run away from the “good old days” conversation is certainly not to end up in this precise situation. But here she is, stuck between Yamamoto and Kuroo in the most crowded Izakaya of Shibuya. Izumi is ordering her fourth beer, Asahi, her favourite. Yaku is trying to hide it from her. Lev is eating a cauliflower salad and explaining that he needs to keep his diet clean if he doesn’t want to lose his contract with whatever agency he is working with at that time. Yes, she is having dinner with Izumi and “the boys”.

“Shiroyanagi-san, do you want more fried chicken?” Shibayama asks with his usual polite tone (almost too pure for this world). But Natsumi says no, her hair already smells too much of greasy food, she might need to wash them with a super special shampoo tonight.

Don’t get her wrong, it’s not that she doesn’t want to be here. A reunion with her high school friends could be very enjoyable but the thing is, when she woke up that morning she did not expect to run into Kuroo Tetsurou and even less to eat next to him and feel his shoulder and hand and leg against hers in a small restaurant.

“Isn’t Kenma coming?” she finally asks Kuroo.

“He has this very important livestream tonight, but he might come later.”

“Nice.” She shyly mutters.

Kuroo looks at her sipping her glass of water.

“Is this how this conversation is going to be like?”

“What do you mean?”

If Natsumi did not know Kuroo well she might have thought that his attitude remained unchanged. But she does know him, even separated by years and continents, she knows when he was pissed. And right now, he looks pissed.

“Small talk.” he finally answers. “We haven’t seen each other in years and the only thing you’re asking me is when Kenma arrives.”

“I haven’t seen Kenma in quite some time too.”

That’s how you wanna play, Kuroo thinks.

“Says the girl who left for America.”

From across the table, Yaku overhears his former captain and decides to let Izumi drink her beer. That’s a lost case anyway, she’s already drunk. What matters now is how Natsumi’s eyebrows frown and how she starts scratching her nails, a bad habit she has since forever and that she usually goes back to when she feels uncomfortable.

“It was eight years ago, Kuro, eight years. Do I need to apologise, again?”

“I’m not looking for any apologies.”

“Then what do you want?”

Yaku wants to interfere, he’s good at it, that used to be his job in the team, but as his mouth opens to speak, Inuoka lets out a sound that only he — and probably Shoyo — could understand.

“Heyaaa! More meat is coming.”

Kuroo gets distracted for a second, drifting his attention away from Natsumi. The girl lets herself breathe again and grabs her bag. She has to get out of this place and escape from the noise and the heat of the food in front of her.

When Kuroo turns back, Natsumi is out of sight.

Once safely outside, she gets a cigarette and a lighter from her pocket.

How funny it is that people smoke when they feel stressed, strangled, muffled. Can this be called fighting fire with fire?

“I did not know you smoked.”

Long and blond-dyed hair, yellow eyes, awkward smile. Natsumi would recognize him in a crowd filled with thousands and thousands of people. Or cats.

“What a shame for an athletic trainer, I know the song.”

Kenma chuckled, “As if I would judge your lifestyle when I sleep maybe three hours every night.”

“That’s the prize to pay for being rich and famous.” She lights up her cigarette. “I only smoke when I’m tense or having a drink with my friends though.”

“Which one is it right now?”

“Both.”

Kenma doesn’t reply back so she decides to go a bit deeper and complains about the raven-hair boy.

“Your best friend is the worst. He says I’m only having small talks with him when we haven’t seen each other in years but he blames me for going to college in America. Argh. This was eight years ago, Kenma. Why is he still mad? I hate when he does this with his superior tone and tcht- never mind.”

Her voice has become more nasal and furious as she talks. Anger and cigarettes are not a good combination.

“Guess some things never change.”

Natsumi, back pressed against the wall, sighs, “for sure, he hasn’t changed. He’s still a jerk.”

The good thing about talking with Kenma is that she is free to say whatever she wants, she can even insult his best friend, and he wouldn’t argue.

“What I meant is that you guys have always been kinda awkward.”

“Awkward? What do you mean?”

The boy, already tired of the conversation, crouches down, “You can’t have a proper conversation without fighting. I’ve never seen anyone like you two, or, well, maybe Shoyo and Kageyama are like that. If you were a romantic book you would be, I don't know, what they call academic rivals or something like that.”

“A romantic book? Seriously Kenma, as if…”

The silence questions even more the boy, “as if what? As if you could ever have romantic feelings for him? I don’t really know this kind of stuff so I won’t give any advice but I’m not blind. And neither are you.”

It’s a good thing Kuroo is still inside, she would hate having to discuss that topic with him. “Romantic feelings for Shiro?” She remembers him saying to Kai one evening outside of the changing room, “She’s more like an annoying cousin to me.”

Kenma gets up and she stubs out her cigarette.

“Tell the boys and Izumi I went back home because-”

“You missed your dog.”

That is the easiest and probably most credible lie he can give, so she thanks him with a soft smile and leaves.

She hopes to find solace under her fleece blanket, drinking a hot chocolate buried in whipped cream and with her dog resting on her chest, but when she opens the door of her apartment — a door that needs to be oiled — and is welcomed by the darkness, the silence and the emptiness of the room, she sighs. Soon enough, Saba greets her by whining.

“Hi baby, I missed you.”

The only thing that eases her mind is that tomorrow will be Saturday, no need to go to work, no need to run into him.

She doesn’t have a lot of pictures on her white walls, only a few from high school with Izumi and some from college. As she looks at them she wonders if she should have been to America at all, if she shouldn’t have stayed in Japan instead. With him. But thank gods, she comes back to her senses quickly and regrets ever thinking that. America was great, it was the best decision of her life. She shall not let the guilt intrude upon her mind. Kuro must be getting under my skin. She concludes before going to bed.

Author notes: hey guys ! this is my first fanfic on this account, I hope you enjoyed it. feel free to tell me what you think <3

[akindplace]

Some posts on this website claim to be from people who are such intelectuals because they have a life philosophy or because they have found themselves, and that teenagers these days are lost because they have no sense of self. Maybe because being a teen is also about figuring out who you are?

Some people still in early adulthood (not just here, but in real life too) keep going after kids for acting in ways that are, in essence, clearly normal teenager behavior. You see, if teenagers never experiment with their very own "silly little things", how come they will find themselves? It seems the identity struggle they went through in their teen years, which were not that long ago, was completely forgotten.

People claiming they have found their own lifestyle, how they have their own individuality so they don't need to do whatever teenagers are doing these days forget that they were also teenagers once, just as lost, just as awkward and experimenting with style, trying to figure out who they are, what media they want to consume, what they like to study, what kind of job they want... and then some adult was being just as cynical towards them.

But eventually, they figured it out, and they have only found themselves now because they went through that experimentation phase. Instead of being comprehensive towards younger generations now they're grown up, they became just like that annoying adult who criticized them when they were a teen. Like being a kid isn't already hard enough.

Point being: how can anyone become anything if they don't experiment? How can anyone know who they are if they don't go through phases? If they don't try to figure what they enjoy and what they don't? And why engaging in small joys like the media teenagers consume these days should mean someone is superficial, dumb or vain? Maybe if you had small joys, you wouldn't come after teenagers with the same "argh, kids these days!" crap when you're an adult. That is just creepy, cynical, pseudo-intelectual behavior.

You act like growing up isn't a process. Like it isn't about learning from mistakes. Or that figuring yourself out is a continuous thing one should go through.

Anyone can pretend they were born with the personality of a fully grown adult, that they never went through phases or ever felt lost, but deep down, every one as a teen is just as awkwardly trying to figure themselves out as the so called "kids these days".

[anjuschiffer]

Repairing a Broken Hero (if you can even call me that...)

...hi? (Eve, I did the thing :D) and no I’m not dead, adulting has taken over my life QQ

-

Prompt: The hero finally snaps after losing everything they loved. They fall, sobbing into the villains arms. The villain is shocked, but understands the pain. They wrap gentle hands around the hero, combing a hand through their hair. Telling them that everything will be okay. The hero continues to sob and all the villain could do is repeat that phrase: “it’s okay.”

-

TAG: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan @vixen-uchiha @nathleigh @startouchedqueen1318

-

MASTERLIST | AO3

Being backed into a small parking space behind apartment buildings wasn’t something Victor saw himself ever being cornered into. 

The sound of wire zipping back to its place was all Mr.Freeze heard as he felt himself jerk forward, only for hissing to replace the noise filling his ears. 

Mr.Freeze hissed as he looked down at the tube that flailed about, the chlorofluorocarbon gasses leaking out of his suit. 

“Do you know how much that cost?” Mr.Freeze yelled, feeling his knuckles ache as he propped his gun back up to his enemy. “Thousands of dollars! All wasted because of you!”

Meanwhile, a girl simply smiled back, a craze filling her eyes as she remained crouched from the dumpster she was resting on. 

“You act as if that actually came out of your pocket when we both know it didn’t. And even if it did, I still wouldn’t have given a shit.” The heroine cladded in black and red sassed back, fiddling with what looked to be a blade in her hand. “You are my target and I did what I do best: neutralize.”

He watched as she twirled it once more before placing it back onto the belt she had on, the wire rope loosely dangling. 

“It was made out of steel.” Freeze seethed. “A small, thin girl like you shouldn’t be able to-“

He barely managed to speak another word, something quickly zooming past his face, hearing something creak towards his left, noticing the blade missing from her waist. 

While he only turned his head a bit, he couldn’t help but fully turn to look at the massive wedge missing from his glass helmet. Only a few millimeters of glass was left to stabilize the rest of it to prevent it from completely shattering.  “You little-!”  

He watched as a trashed television came his way, Freeze quickly dashing to the side to avoid it. 

“Come on Mr.Freeze! Don’t tell me that’s the best you’ve got, is it?”

That set him off and he hated that he gave her the pleasure of knowing it. After all, that stupid grin wouldn’t leave her damned face!

He began to shoot at the girl, watching as she jumped around the area, flipping herself off walls, ladders, cars, well…everything! 

He froze up incoming debris, trash bins, some plants that were out on the fire escapes and even some loose bricks the heroine found laying around. “Stay still!”

“Why should I? You’re the one who chose such a bulky weapon in the first place!” 

“You really are a huge pest!”

“I’m not the one who has a hard time aiming, now am I? Maybe try a little harder?” The heroine suggested, her grin growing wider as Mr.Freeze froze another car instead of her. “Ooo, how’d you miss me? I’m literally standing still right now! Hell, I’m standing two meters away from you! Shooting me shouldn’t be hard, you know.” She laughed as Freeze missed another beam, pulling herself up a fire escape.

“Stay still, you little bug!” He noticed her scrunch her nose at the name. 

“Please don’t ever call me that.” She warned, twirling a yo-yo about. What happened to the blade from earlier? “Only my friends get to call me ‘Bug.’ You only get to call me Red Beetle. And for the record, I stopped being a “little girl” years ago.”

“You are barely towering five feet and are as small as a bug. But don't worry, soon, you’ll be- argh!” Mr.Freeze fell to the floor, his helmet almost completely cracking upon his head hitting the floor, feeling his suit start to hiss thanks to the increase in temperature. 

He tried to get up, only to feel his legs bound up, noticing Red Beetle’s first weapon around them. “You arrogant chi-”

“Shut it.” Red Beetle growled, towering over him as she rewrapped her weapon. “You don’t know a single-!” Red Beetle let out a scream, Freeze grinning as he finally landed a beam on her, watching as frost began to form on her arm, the ice slowly crawling up to her shoulder.

He lowered his arms, grateful that he decided to modify his gauntlets into ice cannons.

“Not so cocky now, are we?” He shot another beam directly at her body, hearing Red Beetle screech louder, watching as she collapsed to the ground, watching as she tried her best to breathe. “Now, I suggest you stay down and- argh!”

Mr.Freeze didn’t expect Red Beetle to launch herself at him, feeling as she managed to rip one of his gauntlets off his suit. “Get off me!” Mr.Freeze yelled, throwing her off of him, watching Red Beetle collide with the wall, Mr.Freeze watching as she slid to the floor. 

He watched as she tried to prop herself up again, only for arms to give in. 

“All you heroes are the same.” He slowly made his way to her, noticing how blood was seeping from the corner of her mouth, but besides that, she looked fine. How was she still in almost pristine condition?

“Are we really?” Red Beetle croaked, finally finding the strength to sit up. “Are we really the same?” She asked him again, this time, looking straight at him as she did, her eyes boring at him, causing a shiver to run down Mr.Freeze’s spine.

Her dull eyes got ingrained into his mind, as if she saw things he has yet to see. Or maybe it was her drastic change in demeanor that was causing him to doubt his advantage?

No. 

She’s doing this to throw him off…he should know better than to let his guard down.

But her face…her eyes… she wasn’t smiling or grinning as she said it. She wasn’t brimming with confidence or arrogance as her other fellow heroes would sometimes hold when they told him those same words. 

The way she said those words…he couldn’t help but distinguish the hint of anger, disgust that lingered behind the question. 

It was as if she was testing him or rather, testing what that phrase meant to him…to her… 

“All of you heroes talk about justice and peace, blabbering how violence isn’t right and how it should never be the way to handle a problem and yet, here you are. Punching, kicking, destroying your surroundings, your beloved cities all in the name of justice. All of this violence to justify saving those you love and want to protect-“

He didn’t expect her to laugh, the girl going into a laughing fit with no end in sight only to be left dumbfounded when tears began to fall from her eyes. 

How they started to pool onto the floor as she hung her head. How her tiny frame kept shaking with each laugh she let out. 

“Protect? Me?” Her giggles began to cool down. “Doing all of this in the name of justice…” She suddenly stopped, as if she hadn’t just been laughing moments ago. She then snapped her head to look at him, contempt raging in her eyes as tears kept spilling from her red eyes. “I’m not doing this to protect anyone. Hell, today was my first day here in Gotham. I don’t know anyone here besides Batman. 

And even so, I only met him for an hour max. So I don’t really care about him to be completely honest. And don’t get me started on the Justice League. I’ve only known them for a few weeks.

So to have someone to protect?” She let out a scoff. “I have no one. The only reason I’m even here today was because they wanted me to prove myself to be worthy of being part of the Justice League. 

I never asked them to fight you. 

They made me fight you.

Can you imagine? Having to prove an international league of heroes that just recently came to being not long ago that I can be of some service to them? That I have to take one villain down today to get them to acknowledge the fact that I’m someone who wants to be on their side? To prove my worth?

Because apparently saving Paris from a domestic terrorist that has been manipulating people for seven years wasn’t enough. 

That seven years of having to balance my life and hero work was worthless to them. 

But can you really blame me for taking that long to unmask the villain?

When I was given this mantle, no one was there to help me. There was no Justice League to reach out to. 

I had to learn the ropes myself, I had to figure out how to unmask this villain by myself. 

I spent days learning how to code, how to hack, restore damaged video footage, assemble listening devices, nano tech…

Do you know of any teen that can hijack an entire company’s security in mere minutes? 

Of a teen that not only had to teach herself four different types of martial arts and then show her team the same thing because it turned about that she wasn’t the only one who was given this task in her city?

Of a teen who had to let go of her entire team to prevent endangering their lives?

Or what about a teen that not only remembers every face they’ve ever had to save, but also remembers the faces of the people they’ve had to bury because they were just a few centimeters away from saving them?

What about being able to suppress any emotion they’ve ever felt because even the slightest show of emotion can make you a possible pawn for your city’s villain?” She asked him, a scowl growing by the question.

Mr.Freeze didn’t know when he had lowered his weapon, his mind too fixated on the person in front of him. 

“And to top it all off, even after I showed them the aftermath of my battle with this villain, of the effects that are still lingering in Paris because of this asshole, one of the League members had the audacity to say my evidence wasn’t enough. That I had to do something else to prove myself simply because he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that I can’t let magic -not even any magical evidence for that matter- to just linger around for some other asshole to abuse. 

Because how the fuck do you expect someone to not be attracted to magic? To leave it alone?

Was Hawkmoth not enough to prove to the world that magical artifacts -hell, magic itself- being lethal when in the wrong hands? Am I not evidence enough that even with a team of magic retainers, it is not enough to defeat a single person who knows more about magic than the heroes themselves?” She asked, gripping at chest, or at least tried to.

Was this all true? If so, the Justice League shouldn’t be putting down this girl for her efforts, and even if there wasn’t solid evidence about the Hawkmoth villain, then shouldn’t they at least investigate the situation themselves?

They have the modes and money to do so, so why don't they?

Mr.Freeze continued to watch the girl in front of him, watching as she was trying to bring herself back into reality. “Do you know how old I was when I was given this job?”

It took him a while to register those words, a few seconds more to realize this wasn’t a rhetorical question. 

“H-How old were you?”

“I wasn’t even 13 years old yet, a few months shy from it… do you want to know how old I am now?” She took his silence as a yes. “I recently turned 19.” A chuckle escaped her. “Just last week actually…I spent it by myself at the League’s dormitory…

Seven years…I spent seven years being a hero…

But I never asked to be a hero.” A scowl rose to her face again. “ I never asked to be burdened with such a duty. 

I didn’t ask to be robbed of my childhood. 

I never got to enjoy what we’re supposed to be some of the happiest years of my childhood…my life… 

Instead, my time was taken from making memories with my friends and spent taking care of someone else’s responsibilities. 

I was supposed to waste time at slumber parties, talking about boys, hanging out with my class on trips, studying for exams, planning my career, falling in love, spending time with my parents…”

Tears began to fall down her face again. “My parents…” A sob escaped her.

But that was it, and he knew. 

One sob was all it took after all. 

Soon, he saw how Red Beetle began to wail, screaming as she probably recalled her parents. 

He watched as she furiously scrubbed the tears that escaped her, watching as she screamed out for her parents. 

“Maman! Papa!” Screaming like a child who lost her parents in the supermarket.

But unlike that scenario, she will never unite with them ever again…

Just like him…

They’ll never reunite with the people who meant so much to them…their world…

He never dropped to his knees so quickly, Victor quickly bringing Red Beetle into a hug, feeling her freeze at his action, how quickly she silenced herself. 

“It’s okay.” He softly spoke, hearing a hiccup escape the girl. “It’s okay.” 

And that was enough to make her bring back down her barriers. Bring back up the sorrow she had been holding in for so long. 

He found himself astounded when Red Beetle reverted to her civilian identity, left with a teen in his arms, pouring her soul out as if her life depended on it. 

“It’s okay.” He found himself saying, rubbing circles on her back in hopes of soothing her. “It’s okay.”

But he knew it fell onto deaf ears. 

Red Beetle cried until she couldn’t, her sobs slowly coming to a soft hic, her head leaned onto his shoulder, her hand welded into his armor as if she feared he would leave her here on her own. 

In his arms, she looked nothing like the person he fought an hour ago…

Nothing like the hero he thought she was…

She was just a child…

A child forced to be an adult…a hero…

Heroes…is the Justice League truly worthy of that title?

“Red Beetle, are you feeling okay?” He softly asked her, not hearing a single indication of an answer from the girl. He pulled away from her ever so slightly, surprised that the heroine had fallen asleep. “Of course you would sleep after crying like that, but it’s alright.” He told her, lifting her up with ease, wondering if she was eating enough. “It’s okay now. I’ll make sure you’re safe until you wake up.”

And I’ll make sure they don’t force you to be a hero again. 

-

“REPORT: Red Beetle OFFLINE. 

REPORT: Red Beetle OFFLINE. 

REPORT: Red Beetle OFFLINE.

REPORT: Red-” The automated voice loud continued to say as the members of the Justice League continued to stare at the blaring red letters that engulfed the room in red light.

They couldn’t believe it…

She just reported to them just half an hour ago…

What happened to Red Beetle?

Where did she go?

NEXT

[mah-t-wordblog]

Ofc 💛💛💛 it was hard to write 😅

The hashiras are better

Ler: Gyomei Himejima

Lee: Kokushibo

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

Ships: NONE

Warnings: This is a tickle fic, if you don’t like it, just scroll down

This fanfic is originally in Portuguese, my English is translated using an automatic translator, if there are any big errors you can tell me so I can fix them

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

“I’m going to kill you, you damned demon!”

“Not if I kill you first”

The two clashed their swords

“CUT” the director shouted

The two adults stopped and took a deep breath.

"Argh”

“Today was great everyone” the director continued “you can rest in your dressing rooms”

Gyomei and Kokushibo went to the dressing room they shared together

“It was great, wasn’t it?” Gyomei said

“It was” kokushibo laughed “the ending is awesome!”

"Why?" The giant man said, taking off the lenses that made his eyes turn white

“Kokushibo kills everyone, even you! Haha”

“But we all killed him” Gyomei rolled his eyes

“But I think I'm better, I killed a lot of people”

“I don’t know” Gyomei laughed “are you sure?”

The bigger man approached the other

“Yes” Kokushibo laughed

“You will admit that hashiras are better~” Gyomei began without warning to squeeze the other's sides

Kokushibo was surprised, he laughed

“NOHOHOHOHO”

“Yes, who is better now?”

“THEHE DEHEHEMOHOHONS”

“Huh? Are you sure?" Gyomei squeezed Kokushibu's armpits

The smaller man shouted, laughing

“STOHOHOHOP”

“You know what you have to say”

“OK OK THEHE HAHAHASHIRA ARE BETTHEHEHEHEHER”

Gyomei raised his hands as promised, Kokushibo sighed on the floor

“Gyomei Himejima may not torture people, but I'm not him” Gyomei said laughing

"I hate you!" Kokushibo laughed

“No, you don’t, you are my best friend”

Kokushibu laughed “idiot”

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

Thanks for reading 💛💛

[justakidicarus]

I’m actually really tired of most AU’s in certain niche’s rn on Ao3

Just like, super tired of specifically the “Jaded Protagonist” trope.

You see it in every single Deku travels through time (or in every time travel AU period)

You see it a good deal of Varian in/during Season 2 AU’s

You see it in most Tommy SBI found family books.

The Jaded Protagonist has just gotten too edgy to me. When every time the character is just biting the heads off everyone else and striking out on their own despite everyone trying to understand and help them, who ch tends to be most of the drama and often leads to OP characters (Especially with Deku) its just not enjoyable to read for me. I understand that this might just not be for me and other people may enjoy these more serious characterisations but it just makes the book feel more bogged down and hard to get through, as the sheer amount of miscommunication these jaded characters bring is the main driver of conflict

I am especially talking about the countless Jaded Izuku fics.

Miscommunication in general has just become so overused and stale to me that it makes a boring plot. X character keeps saying ominous things like “You couldn’t change anything anyway even if you did know so I won’t tell you,” and then we find out that if the characters did know then they absolutely could have helped. It makes me mad at the characters for their decisions and a bit mad at the writer for choosing this of all things as their main plot drivers.

I want more X character time travels to the past but instead of being an edgelord they are a dork who keeps forgetting key details not for plot reasons but because they aren’t relevant in their time and it stresses everyone out.

For example:

Adult Izuku (ArsenAll) on the bus ride to the summer training camp with class 1-A just chilling and chatting happily with the Dekusquad about funny little anecdotes when he mentions Yuga doing an underground mission and suddenly startles so badly from his seat he nearly falls out but Uraraka catches him. The entire bus looks at him as he whirls around and starts profusely apologising to Yuga. No one can tell what exactly he’s apologising for but Yuga is getting steadily more pale.

“Yuga I am SO sorry I completely forgot about the whole- y’know THE THING I mean it really hasn’t come up or been relevant since like- first year but that’s really no excuse and you’ve probably been super stressed about it and I haven’t even mentioned it or thought about it and I can’t even really fix it rn cause it’s a pretty private matter and I don’t really want to share personal details with everyone but you kinda really need to know and argh I am Super Duper Sorry!”

Just like, funny stuff like that instead of angsty going of on his own and destroying every threat with zero help. Enough of the Jaded Protagonsit, bring some light into this dark and dreary atmosphere and environment. We should aim to make our readers laugh not groan in agony from our characters emo attitudes.

[dragonsarecool]

June of Doom Day 4 - Fracture

A/N: Strickland never realises the amount of suffering he inadvertently caused Marty. Set during Part II.

Dammit, McFly, you'd make the lousiest James Bond ever.

Marty's hand flapped around uselessly on top of the desk, blindly feeling around for the sleek paper of the Almanac's front cover. He felt the tips of pencils and the edge of what he suspected was the desk lamp, yet he couldn't risk moving further out from his hiding place for a proper investigation. Strickland couldn't have put the damn thing in a drawer, or the bin…That would've really helped-

His ears registered the disgusting creaks of Strickland's chair.

Then came the sickening crack.

His nerves screamed.

HOLLLYYYYYY SHHHIIIIITTTTTTT-

The sensation seemed to spread along each of his fingers and radiated as far down as his wrist. He was able to contain the urge to scream long enough to rip off his fedora with his other hand and shove it into his mouth, biting the fabric so hard that he felt the fabric seams rip. OH MY GOD OH MY GOD WHY STRICKLAND WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DO THAT YOU OLD BASTARD AHHHHHHHHH-

A loud slurp told him that Strickland had finished his coffee, the pressure instantly being relieved from his tortured hand as the principal's chair returned to its normal position. Marty instantly yanked his hand back under the desk, continuing to munch on the fabric in his mouth. The pain only seemed to intensify as he looked at the mangled flesh; even his fingernails were pulsating with agony.

He couldn't believe that he hadn't screamed, but it was still taking every ounce of control to stop himself from hyperventilating. Get a grip on yourself, McFly!

Strickland rose from his chair, the sound almost making him jump and smash his head into the desk. He watched on as the principal gazed at the Almanac before casually dumping it in the wastepaper bin, slamming the office door behind him.

If he hadn't been in so much pain, Marty would've seen red. Instead, he stared at the trash basket in a numb state of disbelief. Seriously, Strickland?! You were just gonna THROW IT AWAY? Why the hell did I even bother!

Marty took a few deep breaths before he forced himself to move from under the desk, cradling his injured hand as carefully as he would a newborn baby. He forced himself to tear his gaze away from the discoloured skin and pulled the Almanac from the bin. "Yes! Yes!"

Holy shit, I did it! Thank goodness….This means we can finally go home!

Feeling giddy from a combination of pain and bliss, he found himself beginning to flick through the pages, expecting to see the familiar statistics and columns he'd initially seen in that future vintage store. Instead, a cold dread settled over him as he began to come across raunchy photos and a disturbing lack of women's clothing. "No!…"

No no no no no! Don't tell me!…

Fumbling with one hand, Marty threw the dust cover aside, his heart sinking as he realised he was looking at an adult magazine. "Ooh La La?! OOH LA LA?!"

In any other circumstances, he might have considered taking a moment to have a proper read.

But his fury was raging hotter than the fire consuming his hand, and he swore colourfully as he threw the useless magazine aside, panting as he grabbed the walkie talkie from his jacket. Dammit, Biff, you bastard! You did this on purpose!

"Doc! Doc, come in! GAHH!" Marty sunk his teeth into the collar of his jacket to stop himself from howling. He glanced at his noticeably-swollen hand, the beginnings of multiple bruises visible in the muted office light. Curious as to the extent of the damage, he gingerly tried to flex his fingers, only for a renewed wave of torment to ripple through his flesh.

"Marty?!" Doc's anxious voice warbled through the radio. "Marty, come in!"

"Doc!" He realised his voice was shaking almost as badly as his damaged hand. "Doc, Jesus, I blew it! ARGH!"

"Marty, what the hell happened?!"

"Strickland!" Marty hissed between gritted teeth. "Squashed my damn hand, GAHHH! SHIT!"

"Marty, focus!" Doc ordered. "What about Biff and the almanac?"

"He must still have it! All I got is the damn cover!" Marty realised he was on the verge of tears. He clenched his jaw shut as he doubled over, moaning pitifully into his elbow. God, man, this hurts!

"You mean you don't have it?!"

"NO I DON'T, DOC! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK?!" Marty allowed an unrestrained scream to leave his throat, the sound reverberating in the small office space. He remained unrepentant of the racket he knew he was making, continuing to hold the swollen appendage delicately. "I don't have it and it's all my fault and- ARGHHH!"

"Marty! Marty, you need to focus!" If Doc was angry or disappointed with him, he didn't let it show in his voice. "Where is Biff now?"

"…I don't know!" Struggling to gain his breath, Marty stumbled to his feet and collapsed into the wall next to the windowsill, resting his forehead amongst the dusty blinds as he tearfully stared out into the empty car park below. "He could be ANYWHERE and I wasn't fast enough-"

"Marty, the entire future depends on you finding Biff and getting that book back!"

"I KNOW, DOC! I'M TRYING!" Marty shrieked furiously, his emotional state only heightened by the spasming of crushed nerves and ligaments. Despite the thick curtain of tears obscuring most of his vision, his jaw fell as he suddenly recognised a very familiar scene unfolding in the car park below. "Holy shit!"

I never got to see this part!

"Marty?!"

Marty stared in amazement as his mother leapt from her seat in the Packard to tackle Biff, only to be cruelly shoved to the ground in front of a visibly-shaking George. "Hang on, Doc! I gotta go!" He screamed eagerly. "I got one shot! My old man's about to deck Biff!"

Without bothering to answer Doc's garbled question, Marty shoved the walkie-talkie and his injured hand into the depths of his jacket, racing out of Strickland's office at an unprecedented speed. I can't screw this up again…The broken hand is gonna have to wait.

I just hope it doesn't fall off…

[littlenighttales]

If you’ve been here for a minute, you know the drill. Spoilers for chapter 4 of The Sounds of Nightmares, writing my thoughts as I listen to it for the first time (+ some extra edits in the parenthesis for extra thoughts on it after a few extra listens.)

So

Here we go. E4. Go. Go listen to this before reading this.

The Sounds of Nightmares

Two of a Kind

Yeah… so this one gets a bit philosophical at the beginning. Going on about duality and whatnot. Also have I mentioned how the main theme for this series absolutely slaps? Because it’s very good.

So Noone’s outside a reunion, but she can’t go in. It’s a bunch of happy kids outside playing and laughing. Otto gets Noone cake from it though (:

Apparently the room has a two way mirror, so they can look out but not in. Creepy. Otto spills the beans on the creepy disappearance. I’ll go ahead and mention I’m glad I don’t have to rewrite my happy ending story.

Obviously Noone starts freaking out about just straight up getting yeeted into what I’d dare compare to hell on Earth. She thought before they were just nightmares. But… nope.

Noone hates being alone, Otto reassures her a bit. He’s not seeming like a bad guy here lately. Just… having a bit of selfish-selfless motives. Doing sort of bad things for someone himself, but more for someone he knows. Does that make sense?

Wherever Noone was, there were happy kids! Carnival. LN3 teasers? But this is Little Nightmares, so I’m fully expecting the poop/fan collision within seconds.

The kids start talking more like teenagers, a bit weird. Suspecting we’ll see the “I don’t want to grow up” bit from Noone again. A kid named Rusty takes Noone for a ride- Ferris wheel. Also sky boats.

Rusty and his friends aren’t fans of being there. They’re basically slaves. Figures the bad news would come. Happy time lasted longer than expected.

Rebellion is planned. Noone gets assigned to lookout.

What the frick. Rusty sounding like he’s plotting his own death.

They stop talking about the “nightmare” to talk about going to the Nowhere. He opens up a little bit about CiCi. Noone figures out why Otto has been working with her like this. Finds out about his motives. She’s uncomfortable. But. He. Keeps. Pushing.

Noone mentions that the people of this world have distorted faces. Carnival guests a lot like the Maw guests. Definitely near or at the Carnival of LN3, I think

Magic show made Noone forget she’s a lookout. Mentions it’s like she’s under a spell. Ferryman is back?

Nope. It’s the carnival owner? He’s got no eyes. And a dummy made of a kid(?), maybe an adult? Noone says it looks like a smaller man. It sounds like it could be a Chuckie moment.

Noone tries so hard to warn the other kids.

And that dummy is definitely a possessed one. Dang, Chuckie moment.

Noone has a panic attack, some serious PTSD, sounds like ):

Someone hug the poor kid. Get that child a fluffy goat kid to hug!

Otto mentions the Ferryman by that name rather than Candleman. He’s all the more determined to go to the Nowhere. I know this is the same length as the other episodes, but it feels so much shorter!! Argh! It’s gonna be a long wait for next week! (Hey, future me here! Yeah, so I wrote this on the spot the day it was released, and yeah… still a long wait as of Saturday lol)

Good episode, but E3 is still the best so far imo.

We’ll probably see Noone get reverse-raptured (for lack of a better term) again next episode, maybe Otto finds his way to follow her.