#there are no good words which is why i have also started just saying ‘my dude’
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SMOKE SIGNALS ─ BAROU SHOUEI
𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼: Barou seems to have enough of your godawful dating life. What he doesn’t know is that you’ve reached your breaking point, too.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚: explicit content ﾉ 18+ ﾉ fem!afab!reader ﾉ friends to lovers ﾉ idiots in love ﾉ roommates AU ﾉ barou centric ﾉ soft love making bc he's a CLB duh ﾉ narration heavy ﾉ kinda mean to reader but it all means well ﾉ first time/virginity loss ﾉ dry humping ﾉ fingering ﾉ missionary ﾉ no beta we die like men
wc: 8.5k (longest smut fic i've written thus far whew)
a/n: hello friends i am back hehe trying out a new format :3 and also a standalone barou fic because wow i've always paired this guy w nagi sjakhdkajdfh pls give me more hair down barou im begging on my fuckin knees
“Promise me that you won’t get mad,” you peek around the door frame, head poking into Barou’s room.
“The hell did you do this time,” Barou tries to keep his voice casual, red eyes flickering from his computer monitor to your face, then back again. Frankly, he has no idea what you’re possibly referring to, but whenever you’re vague like this, it’s usually not a good thing.
Your brows knit together and you clench the sides of the door. “You gotta promise me, Shouei.”
It has to be something bad, at least in his mind, because you’re trying really hard to look convincing. He can make out the small fidgeting motions by just how hard your knuckles are gripping against the door frame. Barou exhales and pauses, and it’s for a long, rare moment. He’s always the type of guy to say whatever comes to mind, and it’s usually a whole bunch of unfiltered harsh truths and things that others don't want to hear. It’s rare that Barou is actually picking his words carefully and, of course, that catches your attention even more.
“Shouei…”
After a few seconds, Barou manages to narrow the possibilities down to three.
The first answer being the obvious choice: you’re planning to invite a bunch of your friends over for a last minute party. Your friends are loud, messy, and a bit too friendly towards him despite the numerous times he’s yelled at them. Whatever, he’s used to this by now. Afterall, he’s been living with you at this apartment for well over a year now—four years if he counts the amount of times you’ve crashed at his dorm during his time in high school and university.
The second outcome might be directly related to the second half: you’re moving out. Could it be a new job opportunity with better pay? Hell, he’s seen you hunched over and obsessively scrolling through multiple job posting sites these past few months that he’s had a feeling that the day will come sooner or later. But it wouldn’t be something that Barou could see himself getting frustrated over.
Which only leads to the third option: you’ve somehow brought home a stray animal and expect him to be okay with it—
“Okay, dude, you’re seriously starting to freak me out.”
Barou snorts and rolls his eyes. “Can’t promise if I don’t know what it is,” and motions at the empty space by the edge of his bed. “Whatever you brought back home, though, it’s a no. You know I have a cat allergy.”
“I wouldn’t bring an animal home without telling you! Plus, that’s such a lie because you had a cat growing up,” you flush brightly and glower. Needless to say, you end up shuffling past the door frame, into full view, and Barou quickly realizes what you’re referring to, and why you’re acting so agitated.
Breath quickly catches in Barou’s lungs. He averts his gaze, looks back, and clenches his jaw—all in a matter of seconds.
“You’re… dressed up,” he’s pretty sure his face is all contorted, because you’re suddenly acting meek again.
“Don’t give me that look,” your hands fly up and do a poor job covering your chest and exposed thighs.
A form fitting dress is the last thing he’d ever imagined you in, then again, you were never the type to actively show off your feminine outfits in front of him—lounging around in nothing but sweats and an oversized tee is a sight he’s more used to—until now.
“I don’t normally see you wearing stuff like this,” he tries to make the words casual and dismissive, though he’s very aware that he’s just admitted that he pays close attention to you. And, for whatever reason, he has the burning urge to tear himself away, before the tiny voice in his head starts taunting him to go even lower. “Why are you even showing me?”
“Y’know, I had an explanation to give you, but now you sound borderline pissed,” you begin to tip toe back behind the door frame, slowly.
“I always sound borderline pissed,” Barou adds. He’s paused his task at the desk, computer monitor on mute, and the room is exceptionally quiet, except for the low, hesitant creaks from the floor panels. After another moment of studying your face, he exhales and shakes his head. “Let me guess… a date?”
“Oh,” you look momentarily surprised, or maybe that’s just his imagination. You revert back almost immediately though. “How’d you figure it out so quickly?”
If it weren’t for those damn career boosting sites, the second most used apps would be those stupid dating ones.
Both of your parents work all the time, business partners even, so it’s been mainly the two of you left to your own devices at a young age. Barou didn’t have many friends growing up, outside of you and his sisters, if he can even count them.
You’re generally introverted by nature, but somehow you seem to attract people who seem to lack common boundaries and have a strange affinity to soccer. Of course, that includes him, your friends, and all the dates you try and bring back—Barou never lets them go past the shoe rack and, thankfully, your dates always seemed too afraid to object.
Your parents think that it’s a blessing of some sort. That he’s your personal guardian or a shitty guard dog to keep out unwanted men. Something about keeping you safe, another comment about being a good future son-in-law. Conversations with your relatives always tend to steer from topics of career goals, the amount of savings you have, to relationship status, and—ultimately—hey, Shouei’s available, right? Of course, you two don’t have that type of relationship.
Barou is observant, despite what others might think. Observant enough to know that you get uncomfortable when the idea of the two of you being together comes up. You tend to go quiet, then flustered, all before storming off to your own room. Maybe that’s why you spend all your energy into those dating apps—a weird rebellion phase of sorts.
He wants to chastise you, hoping it’ll lead towards you finding another pastime that consists of less unimpressive dicks. Perhaps picking up more books would be well suited for you. Though, upon recent apartment cleanings, he’s stumbled upon plenty of your obscured romance novels. The type of novels that the covers consist of half naked men in cowboy attire with the classic damsel in distress in his arms—Barou doesn’t understand why anyone reads that stuff—piled up all on the living room coffee table.
Scolding you is definitely on top of his to-do list right about now, second to decluttering the fridge. Advising that you can’t blindly trust men on these shitty platforms because god knows what they lie about to get a person’s attention. But he has a feeling that you’ll brush him off, spouting an all too familiar speech that you’ve given him plenty of times before about not being a kid. It’s probably a dumb idea, and he knows that.
So, instead, he shrugs and ignores the anxious buzzing tugging at the back of his mind. “An educated guess.”
“Oh, hm,” you go quiet at that and he isn’t entirely sure why that makes him nervous. “Do I look weird?”
“What?”
You tilt your head. “You’re staring. Like deep in thought.”
So much for keeping his expression neutral.
“Hmph,” Barou snaps his gaze back to his monitor, observing you from its reflection.
His awareness of your dress comes in levels of recognition. First is material: even from the distance he’s sitting, he can tell with a quick eye that it’s from some sort of designer brand. The silk fabric clings to your figure as if it was made for you, worshiping every curve and kissing your features perfectly. Second is how you chose to style it: the adjustments made to your chest is purposeful, making your cleavage the centerpiece while your neckline draws attention to it. Third is his own reaction to it: his mind races to the thought of how unfair everything suddenly feels.
“It’s nothing. It’s just—it’s different from the usual, that’s all.” An awkward beat and, “You don’t look weird.”
You lean back on your heels, body now coming back into view, and there’s a small grin. Looking closer, he sees that you’ve got your makeup and nails done, too.
“What? You’re coming at me for relationship advice now?” Barou asks, after a moment. “I’ve got nothing to say.”
“Your big mouth always has something to say,” you look at him with quirked brows.
He sighs airily. “Who cares, it’s not like you’ll listen,” then rolls his eyes. It’s a bit of an exaggeration, of course, but you’re quite literally one of the most stubborn people he’s ever come across.
Barou’s familiar with your on and off dating sprees before, and in the beginning he did loosely hand out some advice—even though most of the information came from all those dumb teen magazines he found in his sisters’ rooms. It’s almost like a damn script by how it plays out: obsess over a mediocre guy, go on a date or two, and be extremely disappointed when they don’t live up to your expectations.
It’s been about three months since your last date, and Barou doesn’t understand how this one might end up any different.
As if you’ve read his mind, you begin to explain, “We’ve been texting for a few days now. He seems super nice over video call, likes to cook, has a stable job—”
“Hate to break it to you, but that’s the bare minimum.”
“Shouei,” you grumble, “be nice.”
He feels his eyes narrow, lips pressing thin. “You planning to bring him back or something?” Barou can’t seem to mask the edge in his voice.
“If everything goes well, then yeah,” you look relatively proud of yourself. “Which is why I’m asking you to not scare him away—you’re capable of doing that, right?”
“It’s not gonna happen regardless,” the words roll out almost too naturally for both of your comfort, “something always goes wrong, anyways.”
Your lips press thin, weight shifting subtly between your feet. “Don’t be such a dick. I’m bringing a guy back this time.”
Barou doesn’t know what to say. What the fuck can he say? All he knows is that this is making him feel more annoyed than usual. You’ve got to be aware of that, right?
You two have fought before, of course. Nothing ever goes well when it deals with two stubborn individuals. Thankfully, none of the arguments have never escalated past mild inconveniences. Barou can’t seem to remember when’s the last time you’ve actually gotten angry, though. He imagines it being similar to his mom, or sisters, and it’s terrifying because you’re giving him that look—one where you’re a comment away from swatting everything off his desk.
His brows draw together for a moment, eyes squinting, before regaining his ground. He bites back his tongue. “Do what you want.”
“So, I take it that you’re not…?”
Barou scoffs, drumming his fingers against the desk. “Why would I be mad? I’m not in charge of you.”
It’s over a late dinner when Barou finally checks his messages. He sees a few notifications under your name, and he pauses. He doesn’t know why he’s hesitating, there’s a strange churning feeling in his stomach and suddenly he’s lost his appetite. Barou flips his phone down at the table before discarding his utensils, and the look Isagi gives him is a weird one.
“Everything alright there?”
“I’m not mad.”
Across from him, Isagi leans against the kitchen counter and laughs. “Didn’t say you were,” he picks at his dinner plate with a tilted head. “So, erm, why did you call me over here again? Something about a problem…? You still haven’t gotten to that part.”
“Everything’s fine. I’m fine. Not a damn problem around in this shithole. Fucking perfect around here,” he’s suddenly hot with anger.
Isagi replies to this with a vague handwave. “If I had to guess, someone’s out on a date, again, and you haven’t done much about it.”
Barou shoots him a scathing glare. Thinks of denying for a moment. Doesn’t. “Why bother asking if you already knew?”
Like him, Isagi is oddly extremely aware of everything and everyone. On and off the playing field. Which probably explains why he’s both the coach and fan favorite of the bunch. And more of a reason why Barou is stuck third in line for most sponsorships, right behind Itoshi Rin. Well, whatever, he was never a people’s pleaser to begin with. Though, it is nice having him around to vent to—if you count offering to cook dinner in tense silence while going over sporting logistics—because Isagi Yoichi doesn’t judge. Unless your name is Kaiser, then that’s a whole different story.
A shrug. “Wanted to hear it from you, though that might’ve taken all night.” It’s not a tease.
No matter how rough and rugged Barou looks, he can’t wipe the knowing smile off of Isagi’s features.
“So,” Isagi continues, “how long before you miss out on your chance? A few months? Days? Right now?”
He lowers the volume on the TV and shoves another bite in. “Most likely never. If anything goes down south, that’ll be on me.”
“You’re thinking about this carefully,” Isagi observes, earning him another annoyed look. “It’s a good thing—you’re usually, uh, headstrong and tenacious most of the time.” It’s kinda a compliment, Barou thinks.
“We live together,” he emphasizes, “that’s different.”
“For how long, though? At this point it feels like you’re doing this to yourself.” The corners of Isagi’s lip raise, just a little. “Have you tried seeing if she likes you back?”
Barou scowls and absently fiddles with his hair, still a bit damp from the shower earlier. “What’s with that question? If I knew then I wouldn’t be inviting you over here, dumbass.”
A beat or two. He stares at the wall for a moment and cracks.
“If she liked me back then I doubt she’d be out right now with some random guy,” Barou hates how whiny his voice sounds. He’s not the type to openly complain, especially not with his feelings like this. With Isagi, however, it seems like he brings that side out of everyone. What a weirdo.
The younger male simply smiles. “Maybe look into her dating history, you might be able to figure out some patterns.”
“Like I’m some sort of masochist.”
“Well, you’re currently spending your Saturday evening watching football highlights with me, and I think that’s telling by itself.”
Barou doesn’t take the bait, doesn’t bother to say anything to that. He just shoves a spoonful of rice in his mouth and half-distractedly finishes watching a previous games’ highlight on the TV. A quarter way through, and he feels himself starting to drift off.
Isagi’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and that’s a surprising relief to Barou. The younger male lets out a small noise, sets his empty plate in the sink, letting water and soap soak it up for a bit, and fishes his phone out. A few seconds and he starts making his way towards the door, gym bag in hand.
“Rin’s asking to see me for something,” he mindlessly explains while slipping on his shoes. “Guess I’m gonna have to pass on keeping you company tonight, bud.” Isagi says this with a bit of playfulness, but he shoots him a look of sympathy when his hand reaches the knob.
It makes Barou flinch, badly. “Go home, dumbass.”
Once Isagi leaves the premises, he goes back to his own devices. Watching sporting highlights soon went stale, so he opted to watch a drama that you’ve been raving about a while back.
It has an interesting start. The main lead somehow paraglides her way into a foreign country and the tall, handsome, and stoic—your words, not his—military officer has to take care of her.
He remembers, when you first discovered the drama, the main actor was all you could talk about. Sure, he’s your typical standard silent, tough guy trope, but you were especially smitten over him.
“The way he looks after her, the yearning and the need, it’s just—” you would wave your body back and forth, at a loss for words.
The ending credits snaps him out of the small lull and, out of curiosity, Barou browses through his social apps and thumbs your handle into the search bar. You guys are mutual friends, so this shouldn’t feel weird. Though, if he’s being honest with himself, he really, really doesn’t care much for what other people do in their spare time. Looking at his own account, there’s only two posts and both of them are cringey gym mirror selfies from several years ago.
So Barou doesn’t really know what to expect when he looks through your recent story highlights.
There’s a picture of a fancy looking latte with an equally fancy looking cheese foam design on top. The guy’s out of the frame, but he can make out an arm with a decked out watch in the corner. Another picture and this time it features a set of flaky chocolate pastries on a square plate with red sauce paired on the side. The third picture makes Barou pause, because it’s a selfie of you and some guy. From appearance alone, the guy is conventionally attractive, but he also has an extremely punchable face. White collared button up shirt, except for the plain fact that it’s wild open and his damn chest hairs are poking out. He’s got his hands around your waist, his stubbled chin pressed extremely close to yours, looking into the camera as if you belonged to him.
He feels his head throbbing, almost full of cotton, and he shuts his phone off, tossing it onto the far end of the couch. Barou doesn’t bother to clean the dishes, at least not yet. He sets his dirty plate aside, letting it soak in the sink alongside with the other bowls. It’s not until after another hot, long shower that Barou starts stress cleaning the apartment.
And, yeah, vacuuming the living room and running the loud dishwasher at nearly midnight is pretty outrageous and, frankly, dramatic—even for someone like him. By the time he’s done destressing, the air wafts with lemon essential oils and a hint of antiseptic scent. Eventually, after everything, he crawls under the blankets and lies still for a long time before the hint of sleep catches up.
It’s one in the morning when he hears you coming home; heels wobbling against the wooden panels, faint mumbling with a drawl, and sounds of keys hitting the small trinket bowl by the front door. He thinks maybe he should go see you, but stops himself halfway. Barou doesn’t know what he’ll do, how he’ll react, if you come back with smeared lipstick stains on your face, or if you smell like musk— like some stupid, rich casanova’s cologne.
Barou’s just about to pull the covers back over his head when a noise from the living room jolts him wide awake. A loud clatter, body hitting a surface, and he snaps his attention away. And, luckily for him, you just smelled like straight alcohol.
“I should’ve never gone out, I should’ve just…” A beat, followed by a series of painful groans.
You’re definitely tipsy from whatever drink that’s in your system. From what Barou can tell, it was strong.
“Did you take anything else?” It’s a rhetorical question but he keeps his voice quiet, low, and observes you from the couch.
You’re half slumped over, limbs hanging all over the place and your trench coat is doing an awful job at covering up your promiscuous dress. Tired exhaustion plagues all over. Barou quickly covers you with a spare throw blanket on the side.
He tries to get you off the couch, as carefully as he can, and you nearly jump out of your skin from the proximity. Your eyes are glazed, mouth slightly dry and slack, and some of your makeup has smudged—whether it’s from the date or the excessive tossing and turning, Barou doesn’t really want to know. What he does know is that you’re close, now actively leaning into his touch, and your eyes meet, and he’s yet again faced with that strange fire rushing through him.
He swears under his breath, lifting you into his arms.
There’s a million things he wants to say, majority of them being half-ass insults and I told you so, but none of that seems appropriate. His face is only inches away from yours. Barou quickly realizes that his mouth has gone dry and his tongue feels heavy. His recent reactions towards you have been… confusing, to say the least.
You stir, hand shooting up to hold your head. “Is he gone?”
“Your shitty date?”
“Mhm,” your head droops to the side. “That asshole…”
He scoffs, and makes a mental note to personally beat up the guy who left you while you’re like this. “He’s not here.”
“Fuck, thank god,” your eyes hover on his neck. It catches him off-guard. You swallow, and a strange expression flicks across your face, a bit unreadable and different from your usual wasted self. “You were right, sorry.”
For a moment, he thinks he’s in a dream; that he’s still in university, still checking up on you in-between his classes and labs—out of courtesy from your family, and being on the receiving end whenever you get your hopes up.
He shuts his eyes and opens them.
“Let’s get you to bed.”
Barou hears every heavy thump that his heart makes as he carries you to your room. His eyes keep shifting all over your body, whether he means to or not. Most of it is out of concern, your face looks terribly dazed and you’re warm all over, even if you keep insisting that it was just one drink. You’ve never been a heavy drinker, no matter how many times you tried to train your lack of alcohol tolerance. He wonders if he should let you sleep in what you’re currently wearing but, after quick consideration, you’d probably feel extremely uncomfortable the next day.
You press into the warmth of his shoulder, against his neck, then exhale. “I’m a pretty shitty friend, aren’t I?”
“What?” Barou’s eyes flick down the hall, then back to you.
“Ugh,” you make a face. “You know what I mean. How I’m always so tunnel vision when it comes to shit like this…”
“Then just stop,” he feels his face tightening ever so slightly, the unfiltered words unclogging. “Everytime this happens. Why bother going through with it?”
“You wouldn’t understand.” You laugh a little, and it’s half bitterness, half joy—something a little broken and somehow Barou immediately understands.
He watches, almost morbidly, the way your eyes subtly linger on parts of his body for a moment, before sighing. A hesitant, unspoken conversation stuck in your throat, and all at once, Barou wants to scream.
But he doesn’t.
He feels flames crawling up the back of his neck when you snuggle closer into his arms. Thankfully, before he can further combust, he’s pushing his way into your dimmed bedroom.
Barou takes a careful glance around in the dark, noting the familiar scent of you, the numerous prints that hang from the eggshell colored walls, and the small pile of clothes on your desk chair. He’s only been in your room once before, but that was just to help you settle in, so he’s never really paid attention to your surroundings. Now, though, as he lays you on top of the mattress, he notices everything in this room just screams who you are, and he realizes that maybe he should’ve said his piece earlier to avoid all of this together.
The idea fizzles out when Barou feels you tugging loosely on his wrist before letting it fall against the mattress.
“Shouei,” you call out, reaching for his hand again.
He absolutely hates the way he instantly stops and holds you, cherishing the warmth of your skin. Your fingers shakily curl around his, and Barou can’t help but squeeze back. His heart is thundering against his chest, and he’s making it painfully obvious that his breathing is erratic.
After a moment, he clears his throat. “What are you doing?”
His blood has rushed so high to his head that it’s the only thing he can hear, clogging up in his veins and leaving him feeling like he has to cling onto you for dear life. Barou isn’t quite sure what’s happening here, still disbelieving at the way you’re batting your eyes at him, eyes brimming with tears and lips puckered.
“Stay with me, please,” you mumble.
Barou lets out an airy breath, and hears himself saying your name. He’s so confused by all the fucking emotions hitting him right now, and it doesn’t help the fact that his voice gets so soft and tender when he calls out for you. His hand twitches against yours.
This isn’t fair, this isn’t fair, this isn’t—
“You’re drunk,” he finally manages to respond.
His crimson eyes trace your face in the dark, and makes out the shine of wetness on your lips when they part. You lift your eyes, and they instantly hook him in. He resists the urge to lean forward. And, just as instantly, he wants to kneel down, close his eyes, and exist anywhere but this moment.
“I’m not,” you continue and tug him closer, forcing him to sit on the mattress. Your words come out more as hot breath. He definitely smells it but, if he’s being honest with himself, you’re usually not this desperate.
Needless to say, it’s still a concerning fact. “You’re not yourself.”
You squeeze harder, brows furrowed. “I know what I’m doing and what I want.”
Barou tears away from your mouth and glances back into your eyes, studying them closely. You’re still clamped onto his hand, and he knows you’re burning on edge, too. Undoubtedly, he’s half-mast in his pants, and he’s very aware of that, as you slowly rise up, eyeing him with an expression that can only be described as hunger.
“We’ll talk in the morning, idiot.”
“What’s your deal?”
I should be the one asking that.
Barou stares at you for a long moment, The silence is heavy, suffocating. The bed shifts, and in that second, that quiet desperate hope, becomes even more evident. His grip tightens, just a little, and there’s that building headache pulsing through his temple. He really shouldn’t be here, entertaining whatever this is. What he should be doing is sleeping, it’s midnight and, fuck, he has to go to practice tomorrow, but you…
“Are you even listening to me?”
“I am,” his voice is rough when he answers, words dripping with heavy caution. “Even if you aren’t wasted, you’re acting like a real piece of work, right now. None of this shit is funny.”
“I’m not trying to be—I’m being serious,” you reply, but your lips are trembling.
Barou’s stomach lurches and he swallows back a groan, not the pleasure kind. “What do you want me to do?”
Suddenly, you shift restlessly, as if taken aback. “Stay by my side.”
“I know that,” he breathes in, and out. “I asked if there’s anything you want me to do?”
The moonlight creeps past your curtains and coats you in various shades of silver. It’s then, Barou realizes, that he's afraid of what your answer might be. He’s taken care of you hundreds of times before, it’s become second nature for him to look after you, but now this feels foreign—almost daunting when you’re looking just as scared.
But, scared as you are, you lean forward, steadying your palms onto his broad shoulders. It burns his skin at contact, but he steels himself, watching your lips part slowly. Focusing—absolutely fucking focusing—on the way that they move and the damn syllables that come right after.
He feels like dying when the words finally register.
“Kiss me.”
Barou stills, pressing a palm against the mattress and clenches his jaw, running his tongue hard against his teeth. He opens his mouth to reply—and immediately snaps it shut. It’s when you make a small dip in the bed that he recovers, gears running over a hundred miles an hour in his mind. “You want that?”
“Don’t make me repeat it,” your eyes wander all over his face and the intensity almost burns his skin. “It’s embarrassing enough that I’m doing it like this…”
Barou stares in awe. His throat feels tight and his chest clenches uncomfortably. “Doing what?”
A frown erupts on your face and you’re visibly frustrated, more flustered. “Why are you choosing tonight to be a dense prick? Do you need me to spell it out for you? I’m confessing to you. I like you—god, this is so fucking stupid—I’ve liked you since grade school, throughout college, and now! The dates, the guys, none of them work out because they’re not you. Do you know how many times a guy is saying some shit and I’m sitting there thinking ‘Shouei wouldn’t say that’ or when I’m trying to find a guy that looks kinda like you, and even that’s fucking impossible—that’s how much you’re on my mind!”
Your confession—honesty—hangs in the air and Barou nearly chokes on it. You make a low, undignified sound, and press your back against the headboard, looking absolutely anywhere but him. Barou, on the other hand, hears nothing but pounding in his eardrums. He’s not sure if that’s his heartbeat, or yours. There’s a feeling of tight strings tugging at his chest again, a painful ache being left behind. After a moment, the bed creaks.
“Okay,” he breathes, and swallows around that awful lump in his throat.
“Okay?” your voice cracks embarrassingly. “I pour out my feelings and all you say is ‘okay’? This is worse than a rejection. Yoichi said the worst thing you could say is ‘no’ and—”
“Wait, that idiot knows about this?”
“That’s what you’re focused on? Ugh, forget it, I’ve said too much already!”
“Stop,” Barou’s face contorts into a heavy scowl, taking slight offense. “God, sometimes you ramble on so much that it’s hard to take everything at face value.”
He hesitantly presses a palm to your cheek and holds it there, watching your sudden stiff reaction. He shudders, slowly, before dusting the palm across your cheek, ears, hair, and settles it against the back of your head. He’s aware of his breathing, shaky and full of nerves. Barou moves closer until he can feel your breath fanning over his lips.
Before he can say anything else, you lean up and press your lips softly against his. They’re surprisingly soft, he realizes. There’s no heat to it, just a plush press of warmth, a little bit of pressure, and you’re silently swearing under your breath when you pull back.
“Oh god, was that dumb? Am I being stupid right now or what?” Your hands fly up, cradling your face. A muffled scream, then a groan. “I’m sorry—I don’t know what I was thinking! You—me, we were—argh!” Your body retracts back, knee pressing up against your chest as you begin to lean away from him, almost in disgust with yourself.
Barou begins to feel a strange surge in his stomach and gnaws the insides of his cheek. The unusual warmth comes back and, this time, it settles between his legs, but there’s more to that. It was a small, soft kiss—barely long enough to be classified as one. He watches you fidget more before snapping.
“Do you know how to fucking relax?” Barou adjusts his grip behind your head, tangles his fingers in your hair, and drags you back in for another.
This time, it’s lasting, a more proper kiss, and he feels you getting lost in it. Your hands fumble their way back onto his body, finding ground on his thighs and leaning forward into the heat. Barou makes sure that his grip in your hair isn’t too tight, but warm and full of affection, and it makes you moan quietly, mouth parting and allowing his tongue to swipe over your lips.
Hardly any words are exchanged while he kisses you, slowly becoming more frenzied, drowning in the wet heat, tongues curling and hands roaming. There’s a steady, painful throbbing eagerness between Barou’s legs, and he’s positive that you can feel it.
It’s overwhelmingly awkward and stupid, how worked up you both are from just a bit of kissing; from taking turns ghosting each other’s jaws and necks, to hands blindly groping and snaking under clothing to get a squeeze at bare skin. You lean up again, lips tracing the contours of his jaw, and shift a hand down, curling your fingers through his sweats and around his length. A light, breathy noise slips out of him and he feels you pulling away, eyes half-lidded, lips swollen from the heavy makeout session.
“I, um, take it that you like me back…?” You ask quietly, tugging Barou out of his trance.
He blinks, feeling the tips of his ears flushing with warmth. “You really know how to ruin the mood, don’t you?”
“I-I just need confirmation, stupid!”
“Maybe,” Barou confesses, his voice wavers just a little as he speaks. His body shifts with you in his arms, palms cupping both sides of your face. When you refuse to meet his eyes, he huffs. “Look at me. I wouldn’t do this to just anyone if I didn’t like them.”
You make a low, unpleasant noise. “So, you’ve done this with others? I don’t want to think about that.”
Barou’s chest tangles over itself again and, for a moment, being with you feels just a little less daunting. His posture stiffens, then goes lax in a quick second. He could honestly ask you the same thing, whether or not some of the men you’ve matched with have showered you in affection like this but, given your behavior, it seems like you’ve been hesitant and selective. If Barou’s being honest, he’s glad it’s that way.
“Then we don’t have to,” he surges forward, forcing his head down to catch your gaze before capturing your lips in surprise once more.
Eventually, he ends up hovering over you. You’re lying on the mattress, head semi-propped up against the pillows with half of his body weight on top of you—not too heavy, but not too comfortable. Barou’s vaguely aware of what this might lead to, with the look you’re giving him—with the look he’s giving you. He should really go to bed, or else he’s going to wake up with a migraine and a sore neck. But your cheek is nuzzled against his palm, he’s got his other hand running through your hair, soft and lazy, and he’s finding himself grinding against your lower half almost pathetically.
It’s impossible to put his thoughts into coherent sounds when your fingers work at his pants and manage to free his erection, springing it heavily against his stomach. Barou’s mind short-circuits, body jerking in reaction, with the slow, experimental pump of your fist around his aching cock. The look you’re currently giving him is mesmerizing, and it makes him feel as if he’s the most powerful person in the world.
He’s not sure how far you’re willing to go, especially since this feels like your first for everything. You adjust your hand around his length and let it run for a few more strokes. It feels foreign and electric at the same time, softer than his own hands that’s for sure. After you brush your thumb over his tip, smearing the pre, Barou immediately tries shielding himself from you, face buried in his shoulder, and swallows back a rumbling moan.
You pause, hand loosely wrapped around his base, frowning. “Is it bad? I’ll stop if…”
“No,” Barou clasps a hand over yours, squeezes, and sets a slow, firm pace. He shudders again when you adjust your position, hot breath fanning over his tip. “You don’t have to go down—”
“I want to,” you look at him with pleading eyes. “I want to make you feel good, Shouei.”
His mind goes through a whirlwind of possibilities, debating the urge to either run or dominate. Barou closes his eyes, breathing deeply in order to steady himself before he fully loses it. His cock twitches and your hand is clinging around him like a mold.
“Please,” you moan, a plea that’s both an invitation and a surrender, and it’s that damn voice that cuts through his brain fog.
You make a small noise of confusion when he pulls you back, and settles you flat against the mattress. Disappointment flicks across your face but disappears as quickly as it came when his palms make contact with your legs. He carefully watches you squirm, thighs pressing together, when he starts hiking up the dress past your waist and eventually off your body.
Barou sucks in his teeth, eyes drinking in your shy figure underneath him as he stares at your heaving chest, stomach, and plump thighs. He swears under his breath, hesitating for just a moment, before slipping a hand lower, past the barrier of your panties.
A strangled moan catches in his throat as he discovers the slick heat from your arousal, thick fingers pressing gently at the entrance. Your face casts a wild, bewildered look and you throw your head back, hand covering the lower half of your face.
“D-Don’t tease me…”
Barou clicks against his teeth. “Wasn’t planning on it.”
Almost entranced, he stares at your slick center, folds glistensing and your clit practically pulsing with need. His fingers tremble, exploring with hesitance born from innocence. The warmth between your thighs is new, intoxicating, and downright terrifying. With each careful, slow, tentative touch, the sound of his name spilling from your lips is like a sacred plea and it ignites a spark within him.
He can’t wait any longer.
Barou groans as he rubs his padded fingers in between your dewy folds and slides in, a tight and perfect fit that draws a gasp from both parties. Your walls flutter around him almost instantaneously, paired by high pitched mews rolling off your tongue. He watches your knuckles fist the sheets as he starts his slow, stretching movements.
Your body squirms under his onslaught, thighs threatening to press closer from the sensitivity but he settles a firm grip on one of them. The sight of you under him, vulnerable and consuming, with hot tears springing out of the corners of your eyes, drives him over the edge. His fingers pick up speed inside, soon turning relentless, scissoring your gummy walls at a pace that you struggle to keep your volume low. Barou watches you throw a hand over your mouth when his thumb starts rolling over your clit in slow but purposeful circles. The scent of sex drenches him, listening to you mew and beg, his heavy cock leaking all over your thigh when you begin to raise your hips.
“Shouei,” you moan out, skin glistening and wet, flushed from the heat. Your fingers grasp sloppily against his biceps, sending shivers down his arms. “I want to take care of you, too.”
He spreads your legs even further out, applying more pressure to your core. Seeing the sight of you buckling your hips, grinding so shamelessly down on his fingers, brings him more pleasure than it should. Hearing the sighs and whines you babble out tells him everything he needs to know.
Barou raises his lips to your temple as he picks up the pace, groaning from the lewd sounds below. “Finish for me first, I don’t like owing favors,” he starts kissing your throat, tongue tracing over your sweet spots as your walls start fluttering around his digits.
Your hands land on his biceps, clutching his body as close to yours as possible while you calm down from the rush, unable to stop the way you're wailing his name right into his ear. It isn’t until Barou releases his fingers that he realizes that his sweats are now soaked from your orgasm.
“I'm sorry...” You sharply turn your head away, pleasure quickly replaced by embarrassment.
Barou carefully brushes the hair out of your eyes and captures your lips in a sweet and tentative kiss. “Was gonna get rid of them anyway.”
"Oh," you breathe out, unable to form a more suitable response.
He gets up from the mattress and manages to free himself from the remainder of his clothes. Normally, he would toss them in a hamper, but tonight he’s kicking them to the side. Mild anxiousness and anticipation claws at his throat when he formally settles between your legs and, this time, your hands are back to poorly covering up your bare, flushed out body.
Barou furrows his brows and gently pulls them aside, already reading your thoughts. “Stop, you don’t look weird.”
“But—”
He bends down, hands kneading on the flesh of your breasts while his mouth latches onto the side of your neck. You struggle to keep your voice down and squirm under his touch, again. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers. “Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.”
It’s like he can almost see all the blood rushing towards your head when he pulls back. You’re nodding, shaking and quivering, and he can practically hear your heartbeat over his own.
“Let me know if I’m hurting you,” Barou’s amazed that he’s able to keep it together, that his voice is even, because your fingers are slowly guiding his cock towards your entrance.
He’s had a girlfriend in the past, though the intimacy has never gone past making out. He has a faint idea of how it should feel and what he should do, but all that thought gets thrown out when his tip presses softly against your wet folds. Everything starts to feel unbearingly hot and tight.
“I trust you,” you sharply inhale when the first few inches slide into the soft, heated space, and spread your legs wider. You shift against the mattress, a hand splaying on his chest while the other is fisting the sheets. “I trust you more than I trust myself, Shouei.”
He hisses in response to that, adjusting his length, and cranes his head back so he can avoid releasing everything right then and there. You bite back a loud moan as soon as he bottoms you out, your nails digging and leaving half crescent marks into his chest at the stretch.
“Shit—you’re so warm,” he steadies his breathing, and reaches out a hand, caressing your flushed cheeks. He carefully dives in to kiss your lips and then your throat, biting until he nearly breaks skin.
You shudder beneath him, responding with a noise that’s in between a moan and a laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re going to cum already?”
Barou ignores your taunting and scrapes his teeth along the ridge of your throat until he finds your earlobe, basking in the way you’re squeezing around him. “How you do want me to fuck you?”
Silence takes over as your answer, eyes widening at his response. A small thrust and he watches you wince from the stretch. Barou slows down his movements, pulling all the way out before sliding back into the hilt. Shocks of pleasure surges through his veins, and his throat rumbles with every tight pulse your velvety walls offer him, holding your hips steady as he builds up the rhythm.
Your moans and gasps send shivers down his whole body, arching your back as he finds the furthest point. Your grip on his chest tightens, fingers grasping, nails breaking the skin. Though, the pain is nothing compared to the binding pleasure Barou feels being buried deep around your enveloping, addicting warmth. His brain melts into a puddle, every nerve in his system heightens to a new level as you’re tightening around him.
You raise your hips higher, opening yourself and deepening the angle that he can thrust his way through. Barou’s browline pools in a thin veil of sweat as he works his way through it all, staring down at you in a silent, consumed gaze. He presses his hips forward and manages to find the spot that makes you violent and wild. The sound of his name shatters the air and you throw your head back, bliss screeching through both of your veins.
"Shouei, it’s too much," you cry out.
Barou sucks in his teeth, fingers pressing hard into your flesh. “Just breathe, you’re okay.”
He watches your eyes widen with a shaky nod. Your chest rises and falls, eyes frantically darting from the area between your legs up to his face in an attempt to calm yourself.
“I-I know, I know,” you respond, choked out and breathless.
Any consideration for neighboring guests in the complexes are abandoned as Barou pumps into you, his core tightening as every thrust brings him closer. Your walls and arousal coat around his cock with eagerness, as if afraid to let him go.
At the sight of you, teary-eyed and a babbling mess, Barou leans down and his mouth captures yours in another searing kiss that mutes your sounds. Your fingers shoot up, tangling in the mess of his long, black locks, pulling him closer until there’s no space left—until he feels nothing but wet skin and sheer desperation.
He buries his face in your neck, his hot breaths and pants tickling your skin as he senses the incoming orgasm. Barou shuts his eyes and lets his concentration break, mind fully focusing on the feeling of you swallowing him as he works his cock deep inside of you as he could go. All he can think about is how warm and tight everything feels, the sounds you’re making, how much he loves hearing you, and how long he’s been waiting for this moment. Now, with your cries of passion filling the room, back arched in a way he can't even fully describe, it’s more than he can handle, more than he can believe.
Your walls clench violently around him, one hand flying up and tugging at his hair so hard that it stings. But he’ll take it, Barou will endure all the pain and hunger from you knowing you’re cumming hard on his cock. He lets the pain ebb away, turning into waves of ecstasy. Your name falls from his lips and fills the dark room.
Barou bites back a moan and chews his lower lip, head nuzzled deep into your shoulder blade and hips stuttering as his vision goes blurry. Pleasure overtakes him, both immense pressure and the immediate release of it exploding in his skull, and he ends up gasping for air, legs jerking and body trembling as he releases inside of you.
He holds you tightly, rocking your body and panting against your warm skin as both of you try to catch your individual breaths as the aftershocks settle through. Everything stills, all that’s left are the low hums of the air conditioner and your frantic heartbeats. Barou isn’t sure how much time has passed when he finally feels his length go limp. Gently, he slips out and catches the way you moan in disapproval at the feeling of sudden emptiness.
He raises his head and meets your eyes, finding yours wet and half-lidded, completely fucked over. Lifting a thumb to wipe away the threatening tear, he rolls off and settles upright by the edge of the bed. The darkness strains his eyes, but he manages to find what he’s looking for. A few moments later and he hands you a few tissues from the bedside table and cranes his body.
“Are you okay?” Barou’s cautious of the volume of his voice, as if raising it an octave higher would break you even further.
Your breath hitches, wincing and moving meticulously to avoid spilling out all the contents on the sheets. “I think I am?”
“You sound unsure.”
“Well,” you prop up next to him, body curling tight together like a coil, head nudging against his bare shoulder. “We just had sex.”
The word almost slaps him in the face, making him sit up even straighter.
“We… did,” he said, slowly, and now feeling a certain way that he isn’t sure how to describe. Comfortable isn’t the right word, but it’s not exactly uneasy either. But that’s another step to think about, one that he probably won’t take today. He pauses for a moment, tongue heavy in his mouth, but pushes through and ignores the fretting in the back of his mind. “Do… Do you regret it?”
“No,” and you’re quick with it, despite avoiding eye contact. Instead, you curl your fingers around his bicep and squeeze hard. After a pregnant pause, you throw back the question. “How ‘bout you?”
“I don’t,” Barou finds himself equally as responsive, and he’s sure about a lot of things.
He’s sure he’s going to wake up tired and sore, but definitely is still going to out perform his other teammates tomorrow. He’s sure that one day he’ll surpass Isagi. And he’s sure that he wants to be here, with you. You two are best friends and… what, girlfriend and boyfriend now? It’s a crazy thought, but it has his heart fluttering like some dumb teenage romcom.
You simply nod, humming in deep thought, before reaching over and pulling him in for another kiss, and this time, it’s soft and delicate. Fragile, slow, and it has Barou clenching around the edge of the mattress. You’re both making quiet sounds, and he wants to keep going, but he can’t quite subdue that little bubbling jolt of fear in his head. And, because you’re stupidly observant at the strangest times, you pull back.
“We should… probably talk about this, right?”
“We should,” he agrees but, as soon as he glances at the time, exhaustion hits him like a freight train. Barou shudders and he allows gravity to take over, collapsing back onto the cold, wet mattress.
“Hey,” you shake him, enough to rouse some of the tiredness away. “Don’t crash here tonight, everything’s covered in sweat.”
He scoffs and turns over, relishing in the mild comfort. “You’re starting to sound exactly like me.”
“C’mon, Shouei,” he can’t exactly see you from this angle, but he imagines a big pout plastered over your face. “I mean it, let’s sleep in your room. This is like a sex bed…”
“Don’t call it that,” Barou cringes.
“I mean, technically it is. Y’know, couples get twin beds in hotel rooms all the time for that purpose and—”
“If we move to my room, will you promise me that you’ll be quiet and get some sleep?” Barou can slowly feel bags forming under his eyes.
Your weight shifts above him and you make a small noise of approval. “Sure, but no promises.”
© 2023 DOOBEAN. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.
#doobean writes#bllk#blue lock#bllk smut#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#blue lock smut#blue lock x female reader#bllk x female reader#barou shoei smut#barou shoei x reader#barou shouei#barou smut#barou x reader
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AITA for playing video games?
(Tw for possible ableism?? Idk)
I (31M) have loved video games ever since I was little. They're comforting to me and have gotten me through a lot of hard times. I'm also autistic, and half of my hyperfixations have been on video games.
My girlfriend (27F) and I have been dating for 4 years, and overall have had a very good relationship. I've never liked a girl this much. But a recent disagreement has made me reconsider things.
She recently confessed to me that she doesn't like that I play video games, and that she especially doesn't like how obsessed I get over them. She says that it's childish and embarrassing, and that I should be focused more on my adult life.
I was pretty upset. I am admittedly quite immature for my age and do have some hangups on my age, and I've always worried that people would judge me for having these kinds of interests as I get older. I understand there's a stereotype of adult men spending all their time on video games and being irresponsible, but that's not me. I spend plenty of time with my girlfriend and although my job isn't great, that's down to my mental health issues (which I'm working on) more than anything else.
I pointed these things out to her, and also argued that she used to love video games, to which she had responded that she had naturally grown out of that as she'd gotten older and had expected me to do the same. I also explained that I was autistic and that a lot of my hyperfixations were on video games, and she said that while she understood that, surely there was a way I could find something more 'mature' to be hyperfixated on. She also scoffed a bit when I said I was autistic - I've always worried that she doesn't believe me because I'm self diagnosed, but I'm certain that I am (it's outright dangerous to be diagnosed as autistic in this country unfortunately).
We agreed to disagree, but her final word was that it would make her really happy if I could move on from video games and be an adult. I'm pretty upset.
I'd also like to add that this isn't a case of me neglecting the progression of our relationship. We don't want to get married, we've already moved in together, we've met eachothers' families, and while we do want kids, we want to wait until we're a bit more financially stable. This is solely her feeling that as a 31 year old man, I'm too old to play video games.
I don't think there's anything wrong with my hobbies - they make me happy and I'm not a 'toxic' gamer (most of the games I play are story based and I'm very respectful to other players in the ones that aren't). I don't think hobbies should have age limits, honestly. But it really bothers me that she's hurt by this - I love my girlfriend so much, and the fact that I don't think I can give up video games for her makes me feel really guilty. Honestly, I was really happy when we started dating that she also liked video games, I thought we could play together!
But I'm just scared that I've unintentionally been a shitty boyfriend, which is why I'm asking,
AITA?
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Candles
spencer reid/gn!reader
happy 26th anniversary of my escape from the womb, as a celebration pls enjoy this lil smth smth while i spend the evening eating a whole cake by myself🧡
masterlist
word count: 1.3k // warnings: zero just vibes, also glasses reid comes with his own warning🫡
It’s been a mission and a half, keeping it all under wraps. Penelope’s been the worst, but you managed to convince her not to put a reminder on everyone’s calendar - a new sparkly unicorn friend for her desk collection was enough to satiate her. For this year, at least.
Birthdays aren’t what they used to be.
They used to be a month long affair, sparkly and exciting. Now it’s just a day. You might get a couple of cards from a couple of family members, you might treat yourself to a takeout so you don’t have to cook, you might watch your favourite movie. It’s nothing special anymore, but you don’t mind that. It’s just a part of growing up.
Which is exactly why you’d expressly forbidden Garcia from organising any kind of celebration when she’d cornered you in the elevator about it last week. You’re still a relatively shiny new toy in the BAU, and being the centre of attention isn’t one of your strong suits anymore. You’re happy to let it pass largely unnoticed by your colleagues. She can do something next year, for sure, when you’re settled in properly. Provided there are no cases that demand attention.
Your back still aches from the flight back yesterday evening, nobody ever said sleeping sitting up is good for you. But, thankfully, it means that everyone’s been too swamped in paperwork today to have noticed Penelope’s extremely subtle efforts to make the day a little easier for you. Her way of celebrating, you were never going to get away that easily. A coffee this morning, a muffin from the café when she came back from her lunch break, she’d even called you into The Lair to present you with a card. Secretly, of course, so as not to arouse suspicion. It’s tucked away in your bag now, safe and sound. Glitter and all.
“Goodnight, my loves.” She appears in your field of vision, blonde head bobbling over the divider between your desk and Morgan’s.
You raise your hand to wave, but the occupant of the desk to your right is far too engrossed in the file to notice. It’s just the three of you left in the office - Penelope, you, and Spencer. Even Hotch has gone, armed with a stack of case files and a furrowed brow.
“See you in the morning, P.” It doesn’t take a lot of effort to return her smile, however tired you might be. That’s the thing about Penelope Garcia, you’ve learned, her energy is kind of infectious. She totters over to your desk with a sly look over at Reid, who still doesn’t appear to be paying any attention.
“Happy Birthday.” She whispers, throwing you an exaggerated wink. Okay, maybe you feel a little bit guilty about depriving her of the celebration she wanted to give you.
And then she’s off, and it’s just you and Reid and the occasional quiet tapping of keyboards, the sifting of papers.
You’ve been absorbed by a file, checking and double checking your additions to the report are accurate, so you don’t really pay Reid any mind when he wanders off towards the kitchen. Your red pen is out, scribbling on an extra copy of the notes. The Unsub on this case had been crafty, but not crafty enough, and your confidence is growing with the handful of takedowns now under your belt. It’s nice to feel like you’re contributing to the team’s success - it’s still your rookie year, but your handcuffs are a little less shiny than they were. You’re about to start typing up your amendments when there’s a noise behind you, like someone clearing their throat. They do it again, a little louder, a little less unsure. It’s unexpected to say the least, the image you’re presented with when you turn in your chair.
Doctor Spencer Reid - adjacent desk mate, awkward stakeout buddy, bespectacled distraction - is holding a small plate out to you, one single cupcake in the centre. There’s a birthday candle stuck in the chocolate swirled icing, just the one, tiny flame wobbling away in the air conditioning. He looks nervous, but there’s a glint in his eye hiding behind his glasses. You wonder what kind of threats Penelope made to get him to do this.
“Garcia said you didn’t want a fuss,” He starts rambling, “So, I figured I would wait until there were less people around and - well, it looks like it’s just us now.”
You’re fumbling for something to say, anything.
“This was - yeah, this was a bad idea, wasn’t it? You didn’t want a fuss and I did this and now you-“
“It’s okay.” You say, finally finding your voice. Matching smiles start to grow, slowly, and the lingering awkwardness evaporates.
It’s hard not to play up the childish wonder of it all - even in the beige and navy confines of the BAU office. Reid still holds the cupcake out towards you as you squeeze your eyes shut, nose wrinkled. Making a wish. You’re not really sure what it is you’re wishing for, maybe it’s that you’ll settle in with the team for the long term, maybe it’s that you’ll catch every bad guy until there’s none left, maybe it’s that a certain teammate will keep looking at you with those big old eyes and a hint of a smile on his face. Whatever it is, it’s good enough, and you open your eyes slowly. Leaning forward, one small puff of breath extinguishes the little candle. Birthday ritual complete. You’re sure Reid has a fun fact about the history of birthday celebrations and the burning of foodstuffs, but you don’t ask just yet. He’s still holding the plate out to you.
“Split it with me?”
His answering grin is contagious, you’ve no choice but to return it as he turns on his heel to hunt down a knife from the kitchen.
“And since it’s just the two of us,” He chatters on his way back from the kitchen, a second plate and butter knife in tow, “I won’t even make you wear the birthday hat.”
There’s a birthday hat, good lord. You’re glad you managed to hold Penelope off for one year, even if it’s the only one she’ll let you have.
“You have no idea how much that means to me.”
“There’s always next year.” Reid is grinning into his half of the cupcake, deliberately not watching you process the fact that you will absolutely be wearing the birthday hat this time next year. But it’s surprisingly heartwarming to hear that he thinks you’ll be with the team for your next birthday. Not that you don’t expect to be, but having confirmation that the others believe it too makes you feel a little fuzzy.
“At least I caught Garcia before she organised a street party, a card and a cupcake do me just fine.” Your words are muffled around the mouthful of cake and icing.
“Oh, she didn’t do this.”
You don’t follow. That much must be clear on your face, because he presses on.
“I made a batch, but then Penelope said you wanted low-key. So I only brought one.”
He made it?
He made it. For you.
If he wasn’t hurtling towards inappropriate crush territory already, he sure is now.
“Thank you, Spencer.”
It doesn’t escape your notice that it’s the first time you use his name. Not Doctor, not Reid, just Spencer. He’s noticed too, if the blush steadily creeping up his cheeks is anything to go by. But you don’t want him to steam up his glasses, and you definitely don’t want to dig yourself in any deeper - so you ask him about birthday candles, an answer he’s more than happy to provide between the last mouthfuls of cupcake and remaining file reports.
Maybe the work birthday thing isn’t so bad, you’ll just have to find that hat before next year.
the canyouniverse is back with a vengeance baybieeee 🧡🧡 i’m love them sm (and you!! for reading!!!)
#featuring bestie penelope garcia!!!! for no other reason than i adore her!!!!#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#lou writes#the canyouniverse
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🎀txt reactions-when they forget your birthday🎀
warnings: f-word, crying, loud voices,fluff,comforting
×Choi Soobin+
you were so tired with all works. The files you should set down, The essays you should read and write your thoughts and a lot of surveys you should handle with..You were almostly forgetting your birthday because you were busy also no one celebrated it. You were new in this country which you moved for your work and met with your bf Soobin. He was the sweetest. While driving to your house, You were thinking how will he surprise you. You know that he is busy with his own schedules but sometimes he can forget all of them for you and you think It should be one of the day he should celebrate and not forget. But it didn't work. When you went to home, Your house was cold and alone. You gulped and looked around. Your hope is still here and you were thinking that Soobin will come from the corner with birthday cake in his hands and he will smile at you with his biggest one. But he wasn't in the house. You searched all rooms but there is no evidence from him. You sighs and sits on your couch which is stained because of your cat's liquid food. You were looking at your hands and playing with your fingers. You heard a knock on the door and got up immediately. You opened the door and saw Soobin. He seems tired with his big hoodie and loose pants. You smiled at him. "You seem so tired,hun." You hugges his neck and he smiled. "Yes,I am. I came here,maybe we can cuddle or relax. I just want to be with you." Soobin stroked your hair and hugged you back. You sighed. He seems like forget your birthday. You and him sat on your couch and he holds your hands. You were looking at him with doe eyes and hoping that he will remember it.He looks at you back. "You seem like you want something, do you need anything?" He asked. You look at him and ask. "Did you forget?" He seems kinda curious about what did he forget. "What did I forget?" He asked. He started to think about the saten and he looks at you back. "Your birthday,right?" He asked. You nodded softly and crossed your arms and looked at him. He seems kinda sad to forget it. He looks at you and replies. "Sorry,sorry. Will you forgive me? We can plan the rest of the night. I will go and get some snacks and I will make us a blanket couch. Wait here!" He replied while getting up to grab his wallet and coat. You laughed at him and holded his hands. "It is fine. No one celebrated it anyway so Why don't we just lay down?" You asked. He sighs and nods. He holds your hands and pulls you in a hug. "I couldn't forget it..I was just too busy, please forgive me?" He replied. You nodded and kissed his cheek. He blushes slightly and holds you tightly.
×Choi Yeonjun+
You were out with your friends for celebrate your birthday. Everyone was so curious about your mysterious bf. You can't tell them that he is Yeonjun which is a TXT member and someone who doesn't have individual lifestyle. You just hide it from them. They were asking you about his surprise. You blushed slightly and couldn't say anything. He did nothing..Really nothing. Your day started really normal. He texted you as good morning and you called each other just for fun. You waited him to just happy birthday and nothing else. But he didn't. You waited his text in his work time but he didn't. You waited again and again, until you wore your clothes to go with your friends. They were telling and asking you about him. You were just telling them he is busy. You spend your night with them. Laughing at them wtih their jokes. You went to home back. Yeonjun was sitting in their shared flat. He waved at you. "Welcome honey. How was your day?" He asked to you. You sighs. "Fine,I guess." Yeonjun find out that you are sad. "What's wrong bub?" As he asked, you came near of him. "I know, you are busy but..Did you really forget my birthday?" As you asked, his eyes got widen. He gulped. "So so so so sorry..I knew it but It just went away from my mind..Sorry." he pecks your cheeks and kisses you deeply. You forgot the topic already :)
×Choi Beomgyu×
It was night. You were staying in the hospital for the night shift. You were tired as hell because the patients and their families weird needs. You were running around the floors and grabbing necessary things for the doctors. You were running blood tests and injections. You were trying to eat something without making anyone call or disturb you in the injection room until a little boy knocked your door. His parents came near of you that he has an injection. You sighs and puts your sandwich down. As you injected, he started crying. You picked him up softly. Your forgot your anger suddenly and the little boy cradled to your lap. His parents take him and they go..You started reminding him all night and went home. It was the morning when you wake up with the door sound. As you got up and reached the door, It was Beomgyu with boxes. You remind that it is your birthday and you smiled. You thought he buy you a present. As he saw you, He hugged you tightly. You kissed his cheeks and hugged back. "What is it?" You asked to him. He opens the box and it was trainers for himself. "Yeonjun hyung bought me these. Aren't they cute?" As he asked, you nodded. You sighed and sat back on the chair. You yawned softly. Your cat was purring around the room. Beomgyu pets it and he looked at you. He suddenly looked at the calendar and saw the pinning. His eyes got widen and he turned you. "I am so, freaking sorry honey. How dare I to forget it..I am a mess..Let's have a quick breakfast and I will take you to the restuorant in the night. We will visit the mall too. I will buy supplements you want for your hair too but just forgive your babe." He pouts. You chuckled and hugged him. How can you be angry towards him?
×Kang Taehyun×
It was the weekend which is going to be spented with Taehyun at the house. You planned everything, You washed your hair, wore makeup and chose a dress for the night even. But it ended up in a bad way. You and him were in the house. Taehyun was stressed about the works and he was trying to be calm. You were waiting for him to be calmer. He takes a deep breath and hugs you. You waited him to tell you something at least a happy birthday sentences. He didn't. You waited him all day and you just slept on the couch, watched an animation movie which ended up in a fooly way. You sighed when he crossed the line. He left you in your dorm , alone in your birthday. He just told you that he needs to be alone. You sighed and nodded. After an hour later, he ended up in your dorm again. He has a cake and a gift in his hands. He smiled at you and lifted you in his arms. " sorry about that. It just slipped from my mind but now we have enought time to celebrate." He kissed you deeply and made you forget about his angey side. You spent your night with him cuddling, whispering sweet songs and drinking Orange juice from the glasses which is has some doodles on it. He hugged you tightly and kissed you again in your livingroom while eating strawberries and holding his gift in your arms. A cat :)
×Kai Kamal Huening×
It was your first night in txt's dorm. The other guys are aware of your birthday and they were waiting for Hueningkai's surprise for you. They were expecting him to turn off the lights, brang a cake which is in penguen shape and a plushie as a gift for your collection. They expected him to clinged on you all night and pecked your cheeks. Singing you a birthday song with chaotic effects. But this isn't happening..You came their dorm with loose pants and a shirt (probably it is Hueningkai's shirt). You sat on the couch with Huening and started playing with Ps5. He was using all his efforts to beat you but ended uo with a lose. The all members are laughing at him. He gets up and goes to the kitchen. The all guys followed him and you were alone in the livingroom. They asked him where is the cake. Hueningkai looks at them. "A cake? For what?" They got surprised that he forgot your birthday. As he recognized, he started panicking. He got his coat and run to the outside to find a market which is selling a cake. You got confused while other members are trying to find candles and balloons. You realized that it is your forgetten birthday. You sighed and got up. The all lights turned off suddenly and the cake came to near of you. Hueningkai was smiling to you so you are. You hugged to him and he kissed you. The guys watched you behind and they were scared how will you guys be clingy rest of the night. Whatever, they were right.
#txt fluff#beomgyu fanfic#beomgyu fluff#hueningkai#tomorrow x together#txt fanfiction#txt hard hours#txt imagines#txt reaction#txt scenarios#beomgyu x reader#beomgyu icons#txt yeonjun#soobin txt#soobin x reader#txt huening kai#yeonjun icons#choi soobin#beomgyu txt#txt fanfic#kpop fanfic#kpop aesthetic#artists on tumblr#txt edits#txt angst#taehyun x y/n#taehyun fluff#choi yeonjun#beomgyu
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★ NEVER AGAIN ˎˊ˗ aaron warner.
- pairing: aaron warner x fem!reader
- summery: you and aaron warner alone in a room! they might kiss! …what?
- warnings: kissing, tension, literally almost kissing, the anger of almost kisses, someone walking in
- words: 735
- belle speaks: requested by EMS HERE‼️ love ya <333 i kind of made it a one time thingy because i was too lazy to make like all three ones and its three a.m and im not getting any sleep tonight either!!! i love aaron also SORRY THIS WAS SO LATE IVE BEEN IN A WRITING SLUMP⁉️⁉️
- tags: @reminiscentreader @nqds @never-enough-novels @xo-zozo @evaswarner @sc11vb @sophiesonlinediary @starrynightsxo @f4iry-bell @his-littlefox @viivdle @aaron-warner @reyreadersblog @urbanflorals @imaseabear @lyrakanefanatic @tornqdowarnings (im literally way too lazy to remove the old tags so click here iif you want to be added to my nee taglist!)
you were painting. that, you knew. you were on a stool, tracing the outline of a girl in a flower field peacefully. you weren’t great at painting, nor were you bad at it. you just liked to paint in your free time.
that was before AARON WARNER came in. you turned your head to the sound of the door opening and the blond man came into your sight of view.
he looked mildly shocked at the view before he started to walk towards you, closing the door behind him.
“you paint?” he asked, walking up behind you to view the painting over your shoulder. it wasn’t done yet, but you’d get an idea of what you were painting if you looked.
you ignored how his presence behind you made goosebumps scatter. “yeah, only when i have nothing else to do,” you said simply.
he hummed and before you knew it, he was pulling out a stool beside you and sitting down on it. he leaned his head into the palm of his hand and stared at the painting before his eyes trailed back to you with a look you didn’t know.
but what you did know, it made your stomach flutter. “are you going to watch?” your voice seemed to make him snap out of his trance and you didn’t know if that was good or not.
he softly smiled at you, his dimples showing. “yes, if that’s fine with you, angel,” he said. he’d always call you that. you didn’t know why, but he did and it always made you get flustered.
you didn’t know what else to say, so you tore your gaze away from his emerald green one. you picked up the pencil back up, bringing it up to the canvas to finish tracing the outline before you paused.
you knew it was aaron’s fault. his gaze never strayed from yours, even as you hesitantly began to draw on the canvas.
though, the strokes weren’t smooth, swift—you. aaron’s gaze never failed to make you nervous, which is now a fact that you began to hate.
taking a breath, you began to trace again. slowly but surely this time, your movements were soft. you went ahead with tracing, more confident now. his gaze was soft as he watched you trace, even whenever you finished and started to paint.
time felt non-existence as you continued to paint, and you thought that aaron felt it too. he didn’t say anything or do anything, he just sat there quietly, watching you paint.
soon after, you finished the painting. you added a few colors here and there to touch it up and you couldn’t see the girl's face—it made it easier that way—but it was still beautiful. at least, in your opinion.
the colors were covered in different types of green. dark, light, pale, emerald, sea, his eyes.
aaron sat up and went behind you to look closely at the painting. but he was closer to you than last time. so close, that you could smell his scent of gardenias.
he leaned down, the side of your face almost touching his own. you didn’t move—couldn’t. you glanced at him and he was looking at the painting with wonder, his eyes glancing over all the small details.
he turned to face you—your faces inches apart. so close that if one of you moved an inch, your lips would touch each other. you felt his breath on your lips, your noses almost touching.
the smell of gardenia covered your senses, imbraiding into your soul as he moved his hand to push your hair to one side behind your ear.
his touch was gentle; soft, as he cupped your cheek. his eyes glance down to your lips before back up into your eyes.
he was so close, so, so close, even when he slightly leaned in—“hello?”
you quickly moved back, almost pushing aaron away in the process. you didn’t know you were panting before you got back to your senses. he, too, looked shocked.
juliette came into the room curiously. “oh, yeah. y/n, kenji needs you!” she said, oblivious to the tension between you and aaron and what had almost happened between the two of you.
“uhm—right. right.”
you get out of your seat, your heart beating in your chest as you spare the flabbergasted man a glance before walking out of the room with juliette.
never again. definitely.
#⭑ belles drabbles#⭑ belle loves aaron#aaron warner x fem!y/n#aaron warner x you#aaron warner x reader#aaron warner#aaron warner x y/n#aaron warner x fem!reader#shatter me#shatter me series#aaron warner anderson
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Why you should listen to Chonny's Charming Chaos Compendium
I didn't expect to truly write a post about this album.
Anons introduced me to its genesis, production and themes and they seemed interesting... but was there enough food for thought?
I had no idea. My expectations were positive, so I imagined I would listen to something good: I just didn't know if this album had enough for me to talk about and say something new - considering that the CCCC fans already did a great job analyzing every detail of the songs.
But when I listened to them (and read more theories/explanations), I noticed some interesting things. Things that stirred my brain and made me think. Things I wanted to talk about.
So here I am, writing a post about Chonny's Charming Chaos Compendium Volume 1. I am not pretending to explain the lore or the songs in detail and I don't want to bother you with an extremely long post. All I want is to give you some material to decide if CCCC is worth a try.
And, if you've never heard about it before, I hope my words will spark your interest, because this album deserves more attention.
One last thing: please be aware I will talk about all sorts of themes, from love to suicide, because those are also the themes of the album.
_______________________________
A simple plot
I can hear you, fans who have listened to the whole album: simple story?! It's complicated! It's open to interpretations!
And yes, you're right. But if we consider the core foundation on which the songs are built... well, that's quite straightforward. With this album, Chonny Jash is telling us about his struggles and how they led to a psychological split inside him into Mind, Heart and Soul. Then these three parts start fighting, until they find a way to reunite again.
And yes, we can also add that this is a time loop and things are destined to repeat themselves, but the structure is still simple, clear and concise. As clear as the tripartition of the album into Calamity, Cacophony and Concord, three parts that correspond to the story's three main points: the split, the fight, the reunion.
And this simplicity isn't a bad thing, oh absolutely not. This is perfect.
There's a common misconception that a good story should be complicated. The plot should be complex and convoluted and the more complex and convoluted it is, the better the story will be. I made this conceptual mistake too and it took me years to realize how wrong it was: the better stories are not the most complicated ones, but the simpler ones.
Why?, you may ask. Isn't a simple story proof of amateur writing - or even worse, lack of creativity?
Actually, it's quite the opposite and there are four reasons why:
If a story has a simple, clear foundation, it will be easier to build on it: a simple foundation is stable and strong, it won't break down too easily. You can add layers and metaphors and hide your plot points behind different interpretations, but your public won't get lost, because the foundation would still be clear: there are three figures, they fight, they reunite. Everyone can understand it.
If everyone can understand your foundation, your story is universal. Everyone can approach and experience it, from an old person to a child, and everyone will find something inside: a message, a feeling, a piece of advice, anything.
If your story is universal and the foundation clear, your vision is also clear. And if your vision is clear, you know what you're doing. And if you know what you're doing, your story will be much more organized too: there won't be dull/useless parts, filler, or moments in which you're just dilly-dallying, waiting for the right idea to strike.
Since your story will be more organized, the flow will be better too and the events will make sense, the public will be more prone to welcome the suspension of disbelief and immerse themselves in the story. People aren't stupid, they can subconsciously feel when an artist is confident and the story is strong. And once they feel it, you win. The public is yours now, you can guide it into your world and show your vision as you intended. And people will let you do it, because they know they're in good hands.
This is what I experienced too, the more I progressed with my listening. There was a lot of care behind every word, the lyrics kept explaining and expanding the plot and everything showed the confidence of an author who knows what he is doing and how to do it.
And there's nothing better for a story, than a confident author.
_______________________________
Clear elements despite the ambiguity
Even if the foundation of CCCC is very simple, the story is enriched by a ton of ambiguities and things purposely left very vague. They may be better explained when/if Volume 2 comes out in the future, they may be left open to interpretation forever. It doesn't really matter: having a full understanding is good, but leaving everything behind a veil of mystery is a good choice as well. It depends on Mr. Jash's choice - and if my previous point wasn't clear enough, I trust this guy's choices.
However, despite the ambiguity, I also really appreciated how there are a lot of extremely clear elements in this story, starting from some events, to specific details of the main characters involved.
Some examples?
Heart tried to shoot/kill/destroy Mind
Heart's breakdown is due to something love-related
The whole series of events is stuck in a loop
Mr. Jash threatens suicide if the parts of himself don't reconcile
Mr. Jash frequently talks about how he keeps making covers of songs others made before him
And what about the details? For example, we know that every character has a specific set of elements associated with them:
an object: a blindfold (Heart), a crown (Mind), a trident (Soul)
a name: Artemis/the moon/Juno (Heart), Apollo/the sun (Mind), Atlas (Soul)
a color: black+purple (Heart), blue+white (Mind), gray+red (Soul)
And those are all elements we get from the songs and they get stuck with you, while you progress with your listening.
Again, this is a very clever choice: considering everything is open to interpretation, having some clear elements serves as "anchor points" in a sea of ambiguities. By doing that, the listeners won't get lost in a maelstrom of possibilities, but they will keep being guided down a clear path - the one traced by the main points of the album (breakdown, fight, reunion).
Also, having some fixed elements keeps everyone's attention too: some people might like to get lost in pure ambiguity, but most lose interest in a too-vague story. Even if the author had a clear plan, if everything is too obscure, people will inevitably think: "It's incomprehensible, so the author had no idea what they were doing" and ditch the story entirely.
Mr. Jash handled the ambiguity aspect very well, by balancing the obscurities with the clear elements. And this proved, once again, how clear, strong and detailed his vision is.
_______________________________
Favorite character?
Ooof, that's hard.
Each character has a specific personality and that alone proves how carefully Mr. Jash planned every element related to them.
Heart is sad, desperate, apathetic, prone to self-pity, sick and tired of everything. But he's also strong enough to try and oppose Mind out of fear of what he could do. He tried to attack someone as powerful as him and take him down, just to preserve the Soul and save their vessel.
And that proves he's not weak at all: he's a lot more powerful than he seems. And, as he said, he's not a child: he felt Mind could've been a threat, so he took the matter into his own hands and tried to find a solution.
And it makes sense his solution was so drastic, because it was dictated by feelings. Because the Heart is influenced by feelings. It's perfectly coherent with the kind of character he is.
Same goes for Mind: he's cold, harsh, a threatening figure because of his design/nature. He takes control of the situation, he appoints himself as the new leader, he wants to react, do something, move forward and ignore the element he sees as the weak link.
And he definitely doesn't hold a grudge towards Heart, nope nope: my bro spent a whole song saying "Look at Heart, he's an idiot". And then, if this isn't enough, he ended his song, by calling Heart "akaryocyte": which is a cell without a nucleus. Hence, a virus.
I'll admit it: this sick burn is the sickest burn that ever burned and probably the most clever insult I've ever read and that made Mind top #1 best character of the album - sorry Heart, but Mind is too sick. (Also, I am a cold logical person too, so I ended up thinking the guy wasn't so bad after all.)
Last but not least, we have Soul. And Soul is basically shut down all the time by these two motherfuckers arguing, to the point he looks more like a shadow, rather than a real character... until he decides that you know what, time to show how confident he actually is:
You must be so arrogant to think that either of you
Can control The Soul so wholly
When to be one whole you can't hold solely
One song was enough to show Soul's true colors. He's stronger than the other two, he's more in control than them and he's the only one able to draw a line and make an actual threat: if they do not find a way to reunite, he will kill them both.
A couple words and Soul's picture got flipped: he's not just a background voice anymore, he's the leading figure now. And if he is sick and tired, then these three are facing the real shit.
But just like the other two, Soul isn't just that and we see it in The Bidding.
Here happens something incredibly beautiful: once Heart and Mind find a way to harmonize, Soul immediately rejoices: with the impatience of a child, he asks them to do it again, "One more time, go again/No, this can't be the end". Soul, this powerful figure who threatened suicide one second ago, begs them to try again, to do it "for me", because they can finally harmonize, because "I don't know how much more I can take".
Once again, with a couple sentences, we learn how heavy this whole situation has been on Soul and how eager he is to try again, once the other two find a possible harmony.
This doesn't just show how deeply Soul has been affected by the whole situation, but also (on a higher level) how strong hope is.
Soul was ready to commit suicide: a few verses before he said this was the day "we'll tie the rope". But one small step in the right direction, despite being flawed and made out of spite and resentment, was all he needed to change his mind and drop the idea of suicide entirely.
That also proves how human Soul is. Because this is what humans feel too, especially when they play with the idea of suicide. Most of the time, this idea is the result of desperation and inability to find a way out of a situation that seems impossible to overcome. But once these people find even a teeny tiny fragment of hope, the will to live overcomes desperation and people latch to said hope, no matter how small it is. And, just like Soul did here, they try to have it again, to repeat it, to feel that spark again.
Because the will to live is always much, much stronger than the desperation that leads to suicide.
_______________________________
The choice of a time loop
These three characters are stuck in a time loop: things are destined to repeat themselves. And believe it or not, but this is extremely human too - and a clever choice as well.
From a psychological perspective, Mr. Jash can "break" again anytime. Life is full of stuff and events, so... who knows? Maybe in the future, he will face another heartbreak and his Whole will break down into three once more. Or maybe it won't be because of a heartbreak: maybe something else will happen and lead to a new split, a new fight and a new reconciliation. Maybe even the lack of confidence that starts to shine in Concord is proof of a future split.
But if we think about it, the time loop works from another perspective too: a meta one.
Every time you listen to the whole album, every time to replay the songs, you are relieving the split. Every time you listen to them, Whole splits into Heart, Mind and Soul. Every time you trace their history, they split, fight and reconcile.
In other words: every replay is a new loop, a loop in which these characters are stuck - not just because of their humanity, but because they're characters and this is their story. They cannot escape from it, because that's their entire world.
I don't know if Mr. Jash thought about that while making this album... but he gave me this thought and that's just another proof of what I said at the beginning of this post: if a story is very well made, everyone can find a message inside it. And I'm sure you will find something too.
(How about a coffee? ☕)
_______________________________
TAGLIST:
@royalprinceroman @mudpuddlenl @allmycrushesaredead @aquatedia @whatishappeningrightnow @effortiswhatmatters @bella-in-a-bag @doydoune @forever-third-wheeling @payte @hypnossanders @idontreallyknow24 @imcrushedbyarainbowoffical @patton-cake @hereissananxiousmess @purplebronzeandblue @cynicalandsarcastic @lost-in-thought-20 @andtheyreonfire
@riseofthewerewolf @rosesandlove44 @chewy-rubies @groaaaaan @arya-skywalker @csi-baker-street-babes @queen-of-all-things-snuggly @reesiereads @dracayd-universe @starlightnyx @stubbornness-and-spite @averykedavra @joyrose-fandomer @mihaela-tbg @igonnatalknothing
@thatoneloudowl @grayson-22 @softangryfuckingdepressed @theotherella @boopypastaissalty @nevenastark @varthandiveturinn @roses-bubbles @cuter-on-the-inside @coldbookworm @snixxxsmythe @charmingcritter @analogical-mess @emphasis-on-the-oopsie @selfdestructivecat @yangwalkerao3 @the3rddenialist
#chonnys charming chaos compendium#chonny jash#cccc#chonny mind#chonny heart#chonny soul#cj soul#cj mind#cj heart#cj whole
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Point A: Taiga never actually wanted to stop VBS from pursuing Rad Weekend.
Point B: Taiga massively lost the idgaf war with himself with that one.
I promised I would not be LUtF posting but it seems I'll end up LUtF posting anyway. Oh well, here's a short-ish one
Taiga is one fascinating fucker of a character, but I feel what most people get wrong about him is that he never actually went into LUtF with genuine malice.
Most importantly, Taiga is a character who vastly prefers to speak with his actions rather than words; this is somewhat canon and is referenced in On Your Feet!:
With that in mind, you have to consider the things Taiga did for VBS (+ team) prior to LUtF. And it's actually... More than anyone else aside from maybe Ken.
1. Probably the most important one, letting them see COL venue (Legend Still Vivid)
This is both a precious memory for Akito and An and an important experience for Touya and Kohane, who have not been there before. He does this entirely on a whim by Kohane's request, but it's important to see that he is genuinely touched by Kohane's resolve, as well.
(It's heaving implied that literally the only people who would be able to give VBS that opportunity would be Taiga and Ken, but Ken was at that point still massively hitting the brakes on how much he wanted to involve himself into the mess that would later become LUtF - although we can see him starting to crack, as well)
2. Giving actual, genuinely good advice to Kohane that pointed VBS in the direction of "you need to connect with people of the town to be able to surpass RW" (Kick it up a notch)
Taiga and Kohane's mentorship relationship were genuine to some degree; even before that, in Awakening Beat, Taiga also gives Kohane the advice she needed.
Bonus point: he also gave this same advice to Arata, a kid he barely knows (Power of Unity)
This is genuine and valid advice; you can see how it ties into Nagi's story and how RW came to be. Why would Taiga be giving out free tips if he was opposed to anyone trying to surpass RW? Let's mark that down for later.
3. Helping out Akito as well (Fina a Way Out). Whether is intentional or not is up for debate, but it's important that it took Taiga to talk to Akito for him to finally find inner peace.
While he's at it, Taiga gives almost the same, if not more, amount of support to VBS. So why?
Because of VBS' third event, RISE. it's a pivotal moment for their story, and it changed a lot of things... But most notably, it showed Taiga that they are serious.
Keep in mind that Taiga never entertained Nagi's idea to pass their dream on to the next generation in the first place. It was something Nagi wanted, and what Ken wanted to see through, but not Taiga (Light up the Fire, Episode 7)
Taiga: (...Nagi. This isn't for you.)
Shortly after:
Taiga: after everything, no matter what you say to me, my resolve won't change.
Taiga: no matter what, I will make our music the best in the world.
Taiga: this if for nobody's sake - I'm doing this for myself.
Through the event, Taiga is strongly against the idea of giving up on their dream - on his dream. While he doesn't appear to harbor any grudge towards Ken in particular, he is very unhappy - and is downright cynical - about the idea of someone following in their footsteps.
So for the most of his presence in the story, what he does is just entertain the idea of VBS actually getting on that level. He's tentatively curious, but he's not exactly emotionally invested in it. He's taking a "wait and see" approach towards VBS as a team, nudging them on, but without any particular serious intend behind his actions - he doesn't believe they're strong or willful enough.
And hoo boy he waited and saw.
After the absolute hell VBS brought up at Crawl Green and most of the audience seeing Nagi in Kohane (basically confirming his suspicions), Taiga realised that oh shit, those kids are actually doing it... Which meant it was about for him to show them what they're actually getting into.
(please refer to the first picture again. I'm working with limitations here)
This isn't an attempt to kick them down as much to give them a reality check. Remember, for the entirety of their 3-4 rotations, VBS have been pacing in circles trying to figure out why they host an even after an event and basically achieve nothing. Moving forward, yes, but they still don't understand why the RW was the way it was, and Taiga wands to give them the answer, because they would never progress themselves without it.
Which is: a) Nagi's story 2) the skill difference between VBS and Radder. Caucasian Destination aside. Please suspend your disbelief for a moment. This is a shounen anime about rap. Still with me? Okay, moving on.
But why a battle?
Well, aside from him being a calloused old bastard who also likes to scratch his ego, because he knows that the harder VBS lose, the higher they rise.
Don't get me wrong, he's downright cruel to Kotarou and antagonistic towards the rest of them and talks a lot of shit, but all of it is to make VBS hit the ground harder and test their resolve.
Because losing and then getting back on top is how VBS thrive - their frustration from losing is what drives them to work harder. This is part of Vivid Street's battle culture, as well; they kind of weed out the "weak", depending on how the loser react, and good sportsmanship is encouraged - so trying to "get back at ya" after losing is entirely normal and a part of the culture Taiga and VBS both were practically raised in.
He's seen the way Akito behaved after battling Shephard, and he knows An well enough to know she's an extremely sore loser and will always push herself to work even harder. It's not hard for him to deduce the rest of the team will react similarly. He simply sees them losing, and losing in that way, as a necessity for them to realise their limits and find strength to move forward. And they do.
( ^ On your feet. Make no mistake, this is An's "I'm being a little shit right now" face. The "I'm about to rub your fur entirely the wrong way and enjoy it" expression if you will).
The entire 3rd episode was an - callous and assholey, yes - attempt by Taiga to rile VBS up enough so that they want to challenge him again, now with the whe context behind the story and what will it take of them. It was never, at least, not intentionally, attempt to stop them - Taiga is putting his whole trust in VBS as the only ones he respects enough to actually show the them the wall they're claiming to challenge, and he fully believes that when he does, they'll just come back stronger for it.
Which is why, as they call him out and threaten to go beyond his dream, to be even better than he is, he is smiling.
#jay rambles.txt#jay's character analysis#project sekai#an shiraishi#vivis bad squad#taiga kotaki#pjsk
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It’s 🦋, I’m back. I have thoughts and opinions and (it ended up being long) broad character analysis! You’ll see what I mean by sounding like a cocky academic in a sec.
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Dr. Ratio definitely has a lot of elements of gifted kid syndrome. The not being treated like a normal kid, the self deeply intwined with excellence, the being really amazing but never reaching your “full potential,” etc etc.
But the whole idea behind gifted kid syndrome is that those kids eventually burn out or plateau. They lose motivation, or they’ve got unaddressed issues, or they get cocky and stagnate.
Sometimes… Sometimes those kids just don’t. They just don’t stop. Sometimes those kids get continuously moved up to the next level, but every time, it’s not enough of a challenge. Even in adulthood. And these people only get there because they really do care about learning, so it gets really, really exhausting to only hear things like “genius” again and again without actually being taught. At some point you start to wonder if you’re just… at the top already. If you’re the final destination.
If you don’t make an active effort to reach out to people outside that bubble, it’s easy to get caught up in the idea that you’re on a different level. You’re desperate to satisfy an insatiable potential. That’s what the Genius Society is, essentially. People who are labeled geniuses are usually isolated by society, so when they find each other, they come to the conclusion that they’re a unique breed of their own in order to explain how achingly lonely it is with no one to keep up with them.
They aren’t.
That’s why Dr. Ratio is such a good character to me. He’s undergone the same kind of genius-isolation treatment, but instead of separating himself from humanity, he insists on being counted as no different, even if that leaves him mostly alone. And he doesn’t pretend he isn’t intelligent either! He’s not modest, which is very annoying sometimes, but it’s… a lot realer. I mean, isn’t it more disingenuous to have people tell you how genius you are all the time and just pretend not to know you’re smart? He’s not a superior specimen of man, but he’s also not an idiot. He’s a Mundanite.
So in the spirit of being absolutely shameless, I have to say that it feels good to see some actual empathy put into this archetype. Makes me feel less like a crazy person for having the same philosophy and similar struggles.
(Still figuring out an adequate balance of self-confidence and modesty though, the social skills really are the hardest part)
In my opinion, you don't sound like a cocky academic at all. You're explaining your own views on this prospect, and honestly, I really liked reading through this. I agree - Dr. Ratio holds a special place in my heart because he's been isolated due to his intellect, but he still tries to help people and be with them. He still actively expresses his empathy (even if it's in ways that aren't quote on quote, kind) and he does care for others and tries to better their lives and teach them. Self-isolation and isolation from society is absolutely hard to deal with, but seeing him react in that way is honestly really touching and heart-warming. To see a "Gifted Kid" who just kept on going, but who also chose to grow from that experience by choosing to interact with others despite his status.
Once again, really loved reading through this. I believe in you, and I'm glad that you can empathize with others and that you can still connect with others to some level despite going through that. You're doing great, anon. If my words are worth any salt, I'm proud of you for going this far and for trying your best. Please take care of yourself and remember that you're a person outside of your intellect, too. Feel free to drop by again with more takes, because this was really sweet to read and now I have more motivation for my Dr. Ratio angst. :)
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Thoughts on My Adventures with Superman S2 episode 4
Alright 2 things, 1 I love how General lane Not only set up an entire bunker like fortress in Clark and Jimmy's apartment, but also made them Use a Code word in order for them to Even get in, 2 I Reallly love Clark's reaction to Jimmy's achievement, it really shows how much he cares about his friend and is really happy for him 😊 Also is it me or has the Animation gotten So much Better this Season, they really stepped their Game up since the Spiderman fiasco, especially when it comes to the lighting and faces, I mean just look at Clark's smile here >_<
Bruh I'm calling it right now, by the end of this Season Jimmy is going to lose ALL of his Money, that Money meter keeps going down each episode, if that isn't foreshadowing Idk what is ^^;
Once again I'm really loving the relationship between these 2, the fact that Jimmy wants Clark to come not because he's an Alien but because he's his best friend is really sweet, and it really shows just how much the writers Really know about Superman and his world and want to make it to the best version, also the fact that Clark is LITERALLY deciding which outfit seems more "Hype man" is Really funny to me, especially Jimmy's comeback line after this
Judging how Waller is clearly making another Task force X I wanna say this Blockbuster, but I'm not entirely sure, so far this guy's only appeared in like a few episodes this season, So if they kill him off I Wont entirely be mad, because he serves No purpose other than filling out the Villain slots, and the reason why I'm saying this might be Blockbuster is because I can't recall another Villain with super strength and Built like this in the suicide Squad other than blockbuster, who coincidently died IMMEDIATELY in a Suicide Squad comic run
Even though the episode is clearly about lois and father, it's Super obvious that it was actually focused on the relationship between Clark and Jimmy, and how they feel about 1 another, this scene with Clark telling Jimmy about how he's made him feel was really beautiful and Ngl, I kinda teared up at this point, the relationship between the 2 is some of the best I've seen in a Long time since the animated series back on WB Kids, they really put a lot of effort into fleshing out each character and making us Fall in love with them even more ^w^
The whole Superman Debate Scene was great, I really loved how Lex and Jimmy are basically two polar opposites, 1 supporting superman and his pureness and the other being Superman's biggest Hater, with both literally being incredibly rich rn, and it's kinda funny, while Jimmy is losing money, Lex is Gaining money, gaining everyhing that we know him for; Lex brought up a lot of good points regarding Superman and how "Dangerous" he is, Stuff that I think will Return in Season 3 with people Gunning for Superman or trying to Eliminate him, maybe we might actually see Batman Show up Next season 😏
I find it So CONVENIENT that general lane's Rendezvous point Just so happens to be near the STAR Labs EXPO, almost like if this was planned for this to happen here, So that when Superman shows up he could be made out as the Bad guy *looks intently at Lex*
As Sad as this scene is you're really telling me He DIDN'T HEAR THAT!? I mean the dude has SUPER HEARING for a reason, you're REALLY telling me he Didn't hear that? Ok whatever Sure, I guess super hearing Only works when the Writers Need it huh, even though they made a WHOLE episode about that Last season 😒
🥺🥺🥺 I don't have any words for this scene other than Seeing Clark like this really hurts my soul, seeing him come to the Realization that he's Never gonna truly fit in and that He NEEDS Someone like him to Really understand him just shows how much Clark has repressed these feelings by trying to be Something he's not, which is human, Now he's Finally starting to accept his Alien/Kryptonian half, with the 1st step being to find someone Truly like him
ZOD IS HERE OMG ZOD IS HERE!!
Also I Officially dub these Days "Superman Saturday's" ^^ 🦸♂️
#anime#kawaii#2000s anime#90s anime#my adventures with superman#superman#clark kent#jimmy olsen#lois lane#lex luthor#sam lane#maws#maws season 2#Blockbuster#atomic skull#kara zor el#supergirl#superbat#general zod#miimo96#Superman Saturday's
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hella idk what to send to you for aftg im either bored or annoyed and I don't wanna just say bad things about it 😭 like that's just rude and yall obviously like it I DONT WANNA BE SOME DEBBY DOWNER MDMWKEM
I looked at the anti aftg tag too to see if I could intermingle there and last I checked it was a mix of fans obsessed with the series and haters being just a tad harsh imo, so i couldn't even do that RIP. I'm so lonesome in what is maybe a whole group of people gaslighting me 😔👊
honestly ive said this before and i always have to tread a very fine line with it because this isn't me saying it's OKAY or like. promotable. but i do think to an extent that aftg's problematicness is actually an aspect of what draws people in a lot. like the characters and their reactions to things feel real for who they are, what they've been through and the environments they were raised in if that makes sense? and then you go in the anti-aftg tag and it's just again and again 'they said THIS thing and acted THIS way in response to THIS scenario and it was PROBLEMATIC' and like. yeah. outside of the internet bubble you're in people do actually do that. like that behaviour exists. it IS problematic, well done. you pointed at a wall and called it a wall. but like? in real life people - PARTICULARLY deprived, traumatised people that typically don't ever get therapy or community or someone telling them why something is bad - DO act this way. ive said half of my love for andrew is literally just because he took an awful backstory and let it make him a complete cunt and ive NEVER seen a character do it as shamelessly as him before. and yeah there's the argument for how it's never resolved in the book where nora ties it with a bow and points at the bad behaviour so the readers can go 'see, this is wrong' and we all clap, but idk it just for me feels that when people point at the aftg characters and go problematic! problematic! problematic! it's like they're missing the point a bit.
the point being? that we need to be putting WAY more heat on the author. i really dislike her and a lot of her writing choices and her insistance of using slurs that aren't hers to reclaim and just because it happened to make the characters feel just that bit more authentic i can still acknowledge that she CLEARLY wrote it without characterisation in mind and just added all that problematic shit anyway. like i never get why there's so little focus on nora's writing decisions and thousands of posts just fucking CRUCIFYING the characters themselves and 'let's explain in detail why this behaviour is Morally Reprehensible and they should be Locked Up Forever'. like if u want to focus on the characters so bad and pretend they're the sole reason why aftg is Problematic and Bad then why is it so hard to acknowledge that someone raised the way they were might have some misinformed, ignorant beliefs. idk lol
#but i do also think im prone to viewing these characters as TOO real and i understand there's a line to be drawn between media and reality#like at what point does 'life imitates art' become just a genuinely shit piece of media#and at the end of the day im fully aware which end of the spectrum aftg is on LMAO but this is my 2 cents#like ive met so many people that have said absolutely heinous things that the internet would eat them alive for#like homophobic sexist shit you name it they've said it and it IS problematic and uncomfortable to listen to#but i also know that while teenagers online that would call them problematic were busy claiming some new fucking buzz word to throw around#those people were actively just fucking trying to survive. like they weren't learning about why misogyny is bad#because they were fucking addicted to drugs or living through poverty or some shit like they had BIGGER PROBLEMS#like not everyone got the education or life experiences you got and while it's valid to assume someone saying horrible things#is horrible themselves there's also the times it's just genuinely a misinformed ignorant person#like they'll say 'problematic' things and i'll point out why it's bad and they'll literally go 'oh i never thought of that.' that's it!!!#like i have this childhood friend whose life has been an absolute circus start to finish like COMPLETE instability i wont even get into it#low and behold she had NO ONE educating her about things and one time i had to explain to her why having abortion rights was important#bc she just out of nowhere said she was against abortions. and i initially was outraged and disappointed that this came from her#but i didn't patronise her or shout i just explained my angle on why i think they're good and she was on side immediately#cause she always had bigger problems than researching ethics and no one to guide her so she just absorbed the first opinion she came across#and in a small town from a working class family that opinion is typically not the nice woke answer the internet demands#and with aftg particularly andrew bc he's the one who gets a lot of slack for being violent and generally unreasonable#you have someone who has literally not had someone treat him kindly a single time in his life and each new person is a genuine safety threa#like the average person just does not have to deal with that! ofc they have more time to decide their political and moral compass!#and that's so relevant to real life! popularity for the monarchy is highest amongst the working class! the people voted for brexit! trump!#the lower classes and marginalised simply do not have the resources that higher classes do#and someone fighting for survival is not going to be reading twitter threads on cancel culture in their spare time#so many issues in the world can be eased so much quicker by kindness and patient non-patronising education#than just. pointing and calling 'problematic' at anything remotely uncomfortable#idk where this came from its 2am i should go to bed and instead im ranting not even about aftg anmore this is completely it's own thing now#i feel like i worded this badly too im gonna wake up to anons in the morning accusing me of like. condoning spiking#also gloomy i am SO sorry you are the true victim of this i went ENTIRELY off piste on this one please ignore this 😭#ask
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me in my free time: *voraciously engages with media analysis in the form of short&long form video and written content* *writes entire document summarizing the plot points of barbie as they fit into the heroine’s journey* *spends almost every free moment writing or thinking about writing or engaging with visual media* *will turn every conversation into one about media analysis*
me on the first day of film class: i like the way it’s shot 🫤
#TO BE FAIR#I’m not saying I’m an expert or anything cuz I’m far from it#my professor asked about the last movie we saw#which was the shining#and I simply Do Not care about the shining#because I’ll do a frame by frame analysis of atsv but i could barely stay awake during the shining#what was that movie even saying dawg#someone tell me without using the word shot or cinematography and ill listen to u#or tension#BRUH I GET IT. ITS BUILDING TENSION. AND THEN WHAT.#AND THEN WHAT.#the funny thing is i know why the shining is a technically good movie#it just ain’t for me at all#also this is not me acting like an expert i am still Very Very Stupid about movies#just thought it was funny#I did have to bite my tongue from going off about barbie when my small group started talking about it
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i may have made this post before. anyway. i understand that maybe i am just on the dying side of a linguistic change and sometimes one must accept that. but i personally would really love it if society could come up with a gender neutral world we all had the same connotations as boyfriend/girlfriend because every time i hear someone talking about their partner and either the person talking about their partner is like 23 years old or they’re discussing someone they’ve been dating for two months i have to undergo a moment of semantic recalibration in which i do feel temporarily insane
#i guess the silver lining is if partner loses its marriage-like weight#then maybe it’s not weird for me to continue to refer to the dude i’ve been with for 12 years as my boyfriend#i’ve started using partner recently ish partly bc i’m an extremelt#partner-using area#and partly bc i do assume that if i call him my boyfriend it will convey something other than the situation as it stands#but if partner can mean some guy i met 6 weeks ago then why not#although also now that i’m in my thirties i’m more sensitive to like#the orientation of boyfriend/girlfriend on the expected marriage access#there are no good words which is why i have also started just saying ‘my dude’
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how to stop thinking any good thing someone says to you (like compliments or being proud of you or other positive expressions such as these) is a lie just to be polite or bc they're biased and thus can't judge you work and your being objectively bc they love you. asking for a friend
#lovebombing won't work on me i will automatically assume there is an ulterior motive there#i may be off on what it is. but i won't trust it either anyway#(joking btw ik i'm not immune to abuse tactics. that's actually part of why i'm vigilant to all that i think)#(but not only)#i think my main issue is i know in my heart these things can't be right. the bigger the compliment the less i believe it#bc i'm below average and so is anything i create. propping it (and me) up as smth unique feels disingenuous#in my heart i do want this like i wanna be told nice things but they usually make me feel worse lol#bc i still think i'm shit and now i feel like i can't trust that person either.#(still. if someone is mean to me or even just harsh instead. i will cry)#also while this is already very deep and digging into my core the next tags are gonna dig into therapy level deepness lol#i think this is actually why i only want ppl to be sexually attracted to me honestly#smth abt it being like. a physical reaction. makes it easier to believe for me#also smth you can express smth you can do to prove it beyond just saying words#(i will sometimes still doubt it when i have a steady partner of any sort lol like i'll ask if they just indulge me or actually want it)#which is why it's fucking me up sm that i'm getting uglier 🥲 i'm already not great - being trans and fat limits a lot of your options - but#things are getting even worse lol 🥲 who knew that was even possible#all this isn't really a very good base to stop hating yourself. so my self loathing is only getting worse every day#thus making any good word harder to believe. and the cycle continues#. yknow when i started typing this post i did not expect to go on for this long#i am on these sleeping pills that make me lose my filter i'm sorry 😔#vent
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#have learned my little sister believes the moon landing was faked and cites a video on nasa’s website saying ‘they’ve lost the technology#to reach the moon’ or something. maybe the tech they used to reach the moon the first time? ok#idk*#anyway#also learned she knows a flat earther who cites the Bible as his source#bc the Bible says the moon is flat (im v rusty on my Bible bc i haven’t read it in full since i went through confirmation so maybe it does#and if it does feel free to point it out to me)#but anyway have they not ever thought about the fact the Bible was written before a round earth was discovered?#course their argument is that the Bible is the word of god but like#siiiiiigh#i don’t have patience for conspiracy theorists#oh another argument they used re the flat earth theory is a Malaysian flight going to France instead of India when a woman went into labor#and my mom and i instantly started pointing out how there’s SO many factors to take into account as to why they landed in one place over#another and it doesn’t mean bc on a flat earth France is closer to Malaysia#but the way conspiracy theorists approach conspiracies is always ‘i just think it’s fun to learn about!’#and then those conspiracy theories (which are always created by people who know how to manipulate people into believing lies)#end up convincing them bc of those good arguments built on complete nonsense#so the conspiracy doubter or conspiracy ‘just curious’ becomes a conspiracy theorist#it’s baffling how the most logical people can believe this bullshit#the Bible says the earth is flat* not the moon
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it’s like every day i flipflop back and forth between “katsuki should say ‘eijirou’ as many times as he can all the time. ‘eijirou come look at this’ ‘jesus christ eijirou it’s 7 a.m.’ ‘eijirou, steak or fish tonight’” and “i need krbk to call each other baby or else i’ll die”
#idk if it's obvious from the every piece of content i've made in the last 6 months but i've like been stuck on this one#and not to like accidentally peek a little deep into my psyche but it might be bc for the brief time i had a gf last year#we dove like REALLY hard and heavy into the pet names#i did not enjoy being in a relationship with her (largely bc it was so affectionate so fast) but. i did like the affection#and honestly thinking back on the times where we did call each other 'baby' specifically it felt like so much bigger than 'babe'#which is probably why it sounds so gross to some people but the more time goes by and the more i think abt what an actual good#relationship would look like to me. the more i feel like being able to say 'baby' and not have it be cringe would be a factor#which is why i've been so stuck on making things that make krbk say baby. as stupid as it is#i really do love bkg saying eijirou and think that's the more in character option anyway#sometimes your krbk has just gotta be a little self indulgent though you know?#and other times it can be realistic and so so good#if this fic i started last month ever does see the light of day....and it might bc i do like the premise#it'll maybe be the most realistic take on bkg as a part of krbk that i've ever written#not to keep rambling but also thinking back on the way i've written bkg over the years i really do think his character lends itself to#a lot of levels of realistic vs indulgent#weird wording but i'll explain#in canon he's so analytical and thoughtful at heart you know? but he's also 16 and brash and impulsive and plain dumb sometimes#once again thinking about how i didn't actually like him that much on my first watch until the latter half of s2#where his characterization starts to become a little more day-to-day instead of really heavy digging into HIS psyche#so he just shows up over and over again to get mad about something stupid and it's endearing#like 'who is this guy'#so you can write a bkg who's very out of his element and hotheaded and thinks of himself differently than he actually comes off#or you could write a bkg (like the bkg as of late) who's very in control and calculating and doesn't let his guard down#neither side is technically inaccurate but it can be hard to strike a balance bc those things sound very out of sync with each other#so within krbk you can write a very 'actions speak louder than words' bkg who is kinda neutral-cold most of the time#or you can write the goofier 'i won at romance and i'm gonna rub it in your faces' easily swept off his feet fandom favorite bkg#which can be very good#and if anything the fact that he really does keep his guard so high up so often makes you WANT to write him being sappy#especially when he's grown up#have i ever mentioned that like the stock photo of krbk in my mind has aged up?
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creating a new dnd character is so fun like what the fuck
#currently developing my drow paladin's backstory and shit some more and jshsgsj they are so different from caim#bc caim is like. a good person in general! they have some issues but overall they try their best#meanwhile valkyon (the drow) is like. they 100% believe they're also a good person. when in reality. they are not.#they're a vigilante who kills people who they believe are bad and are trying to get stroger and stronger..........#ngl val might have been kinda inspired by light yagami. alongside kotoko yuzuriha from milgram#what can i say. characters who have a strong sense of justice and then start killing people who they believe deserve it are sooo interesting#i wanna study them under a microscope#and that's exactly why im making a character like that!#also trying to make them visually distinct from caim is also really interesting#i think i have the facial features down. where caim is a bit soft and round val is all sharp edges#sharp cheekbones. straight nose. more angular eyes#now i also have to also design an outfit for them which will be a bit more difficult but i think i can do it#they're a dex paladin so i can't just go for full on armor. gonna have to play around with that for sure.#i know i wanna include a shoulder cape or something of the sort#ooooh actually i just googled shoulder capes (to see if there's any other word for it) and saw something cool on google images.#gonna have to come back to it later#but yeahhh i guess i know what im doing tonight#as well as learning a bit more about how to play a paladin before the oneshot on friday#wish me luck ig#hananans
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