#storybled

it felt foolish.  how mentally,  she would try to keep herself together.  never breaking her cool & peaceful exterior as she trotted forward in her attempt to catch up to him.  fingers just able to touch the sleeve of his haori as she moved to his side,  aiming for his attention.

 TURNING ON THE TIDE   /   ACCEPTING

@storybled​  [  leon  ]  :   “i think we’ve avoided things long enough, don’t you?”

these words, this thought, the whole concept was so heavy on raihan. he knew it was an inevitability that this topic was going to come up eventually, and part of raihan feared it. he was so used to the dynamic they had, the flow, the way things were  -  the stolen times away from the public to indulge in whatever they wanted without worrying about the label of them for the longest. but the past few days had grown awkward, leon looked at him in ways that would make his stomach flip and curl in on itself. leaving nausea in raihan’s wake and keeping him up at night, leaving him to stare at the ceiling in his dark, dark room at home. raihan can’t believe he lost sleep over the way leon looked at him when to him, it shouldn’t mean anything. it’s what they settled on, right? it was ... it was all that was there between the two. an unlabeled rendevouz. secret meetings with no other intention in mind. at least, that was what raihan was led to believe for the majority of it all. 

and now it’s left a worrying, bitter taste in raihan’s mouth and he doesn’t know if he should turn tail and flee the moment leon looks at him with those honeyed eyes.

storybled asked:  “  so when are we gonna actually go on a real date?  ” / gojo u_u

morning after starters || accepting @storybled

Nanami was drinking the night before. Low and behold him ending up in bed with Gojo. Shit, He knew something felt wrong afterword's. Though it was relaxing. at least he could be rough with someone and they could take it. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he was putting his clothes on while he rolled around in bed. 

Though the question in mind, made Nanami stop and look down. A date? Sit down and have dinner with the other? Most times he found him annoying until he could stuff his mouth with something. But none the less the blonde looked at him and frown.

              “Do you really want to have dinner with me?  --- or do you just want to stick with just sleeping with one and another whenever we want it?”

part of him wonder if he was trying something else --- Gojo wanted to date & settle down, or was he just really fucking around with Nanami’s head. 

          his eyes shift from the TV screen, mouth still full of popcorn that he flushes down with a big mouthful of soda before responding.  

           “  well! you know i trust your taste,  ”  giving a big grin, he takes the tynamo-patterned sleeping cap off, revealing the absolute mess that is his hair. there are strands pointing in every possible direction, the static electricity from the joltiks residing underneath his cap having done its best in making his head look like an abandoned pidove's nest.  “  ingo says it's a ' lost cause ' or something. can you believe it? how sillllly. he's just jealous!  ”

         there's something sentimental in the scene. just the two of them, having a cigarette on the dark alleyway, with the distant city ambience drowned somewhere in the background.  

         except, it's been well over twenty years from those days. and now, instead of being that insecure, crushing teen who was too nervous to look directly at the man beside him, there's a limo waiting for giovanni to finish his break and get back to the few tasks still waiting to be finished before morning.

         being alone with him is odd. for a moment, it feels like another dimension. maybe even one where they weren't torn into the opposite directions. those words cause his gaze to subtly move towards nanu. yet again, his phone rings, interrupting the thought. giovanni shifts, taking out the phone and turning it off without a word.

         if none of this existed, could've they made it? in another life, without interpol and without rocket, would've they had a chance? of course, it's useless to think about. a pure waste of time.

         yet those words circle through his mind, repeating a few times over.          '  do you ever think that? '

          “  i do,  ”  an obscure reply, left lingering in the air. then, he turns, flicking off the cigarette before giving his old ‘ friend ’ one more glance over his shoulder.  “  do you want a ride?  ”

      How chaotic it had been! A disorder so unattractive that it may as well be a brief heap of trash spread across the gilded beauty that Team Flare strived to make true...Malva had separated herself mostly from the situation, yet not far enough to be blind to what was happening, to where everyone happened to be wandering, to be planning. Like a predator stalking her prey, she so loved to play with her food, a tiny rodent had no chance against the queen of the pyroars. What else would she be? If she didn’t know what was happening across the world, then how might she accurately--or perhaps in this situation...inaccurately--portray the news? The face of the media, she so required to know the truth! After all, how might she twist it to her will if she hadn’t a clue what the reality was? One must have a handle of the real before it can be made into a fantasy.

      So when she heard the tweeting of a little bird, she couldn’t help but to immediately act. How easy, in fact, it was to enter, to hold a lock between her fingers...Just as she held small notes between her hands, sharp talon-like nails gently pressing against them. Where had she gotten the letters? It was quite simple, but she had no need to go into it. Why would she?

      When the lights flickered on to the entering, Malva only relaxed her position, leaning back into her sit over the comforter of Alex’s bed. It was so luxurious, beautiful really, it would be a shame if it were to be stained by unnecessary bloodshed.

      “ These are adorable...I can’t help but to wonder why you were hiding them! ”

      Her voice was as smooth as silk, and yet bit back like a viper’s strike, the Elite Four member gently shuffling between the little child written notes before carefully sliding them together like a deck of cards, ready to be dealt. 

           emmet’s job may have a full control of his life and schedule  –  and he wouldn't have had it any other way  –  but being able to squeeze in these quick shared lunch breaks with noah is quickly becoming one of the highlights of his week. even if the thirty minutes seems to go by too quickly sometimes. it’s weird. usually he skips lunch breaks altogether and simply grabs something on the go before returning to his shift.

          the sound of the subway coming to a slow stop to the track beside them is his cue for exit.  “  well, i gotta depart again! this was verrry fun, though. thank y–  ”  he catches the moment in slow-motion  –  noah may be just an inch taller than him, but up so close, it felt like more. he unconsciously holds his breath. just a small, brief, barely lingering touch of lips against his own. so subtle, yet it causes emmet's face to turn deep red in seconds.

          “  oh, fuck. i mean–  ”  no, no, no. no cursing at the workplace.  oh no.  he quickly leans forward to leave a little kiss onto the corner of the other's lips before turning and almost running right into the closed subway doors.  “  s-see– see you. gotta go. bye!  ”  and he's off, with so much hasty pep in his step that he almost gets tangled into his own legs.

          “  easy. the joltiks. look at them go!  ”            and they are, scurrying all over the control board.