#...studying it more closely it's not an EXACT repetition all the way around actually....

[blackwinged-soul]

I may have been an intergalactic ruler, the greatest necromancer of my generation, and cojoined with the source of all darkness, all in worlds wherein I had great magic of my own.

But this thing is still the most powerful symbol in my magic.

(re, post I put on my mystic blog.)

Copying here for context. (Reminded about this by realizing it was very-close-to-new moon when I cast the latest round of shields over my room. During which I Used This Symbol.)

Oh yeah, speaking of casting all that cleansing/protective stuff: Sometimes being a pop culture witch is rewatching one of the things that has inspired your craft more than anything, incorporating it back into the thing you do, and it works SO FREAKING WELL that you wonder how you forgot about Using That Thing. Tagged: For me it's a certain protective seal that I ward my space with when I need Heavy Duty Blocking/Protecting and it always works better than all the iron or fire or mirror shields I've ever conjured. It's mostly an amalgam sort-of-mandala of a bunch of familiar symbols but Put It All Together and it's fucking MAGIC.

[lostinvasileios]

Hii I wanted to ask you about Apollo because lately I have felt some sort of connection but I haven't seen the obvious signs. I got into paganism for this feeling I have and it has felt right but I'm still not sure, it would be nice to know if he is reaching out or wants to work with me. I would also love some advice because I'm a complete beginner. Thank you for your time and have a great day ☀️

Hello, lovebee! Thank you for asking! 🤍🪻

So, firstly, you don't need any blatant, big, grand, sparkly lit up sign(s) from a deity to attempt to get close with them, if that makes sense. It's super, super important to realize that your feelings/instincts will tell you a lot when it comes to your deity work. I want you to know is that if it feels right, if it feels safe - (and, sometimes, it won't feel safe. And that's almost always because, as humans, we tend to fear the unknown a lot. And stepping into new deities, into a spiritual path, ect, is unknown regardless of how much studying or whatever you've done beforehand. But! Fear and excitement can feel the exact same. One thing that you're gonna do a lot is take that leap of fear, and come out on the other side feeling that thrill of relief of not letting it consume you.) - and if it gives you those happy feelings in all of the various forms that they can come in, it's almost a definite truth for your path. Does that make sense?

When it comes to deities, I often overlooked the connection I had with them when I was first starting out because I thought, well, it was "just a feeling", but, I've come to learn that a huge part of deity work IS feeling!

The only reason I started to work with Apollon at first was because I felt some sort of - draw to him. He, along with a lot of (if not all of them) deities often will send an emotion, a constant-like thought of them or things connected to them, ect as a way to tell you how they want your company/to work with you.

For example, even before I started working with deities myself but was aware of their existences, I had this persistent (and I mean persistent) thought of Asmodeus. His name repeating in my head, feeling some form of butterflies at the thought of him, ect. But it took me months into my journey to begin to even question if he'd like to be around me in any capacity. And, funnily enough, it turns out he's one of my soul spouses.

(Of course, not every deity you feel drawn to is spoused to your soul, just to clarify!)

Apollon is a very, very social deity. He loves getting new devotees, he loves helping people, ect. Actually, he helped me through the first year or so of my journey.

Now, the relationship I have with him won't be like yours, since, if you weren't aware: everyone's interactions with deities will be different based off of countless things, but one of the major (if not the major) key points being because of the different souls. So, take this next part with a grain of salt.

From my experience with him, he's a very tender god. He's a very loving, considerate, patient, and - lords, I could mush about him endlessly. He's the type of lord that will kiss away your tears and ease your worries. You can be as repetitive as you like with your fears and doubts, and he'll be right there with you through it all to reassure you of any and everything.

But, of course, he also does have his more - firmer sides to him. He is a god of rage, amongst all his other things. Now, he's never yelled at me, punished me, ect. But, he has made his... Stance? On certain things very clear to me. When we first started working together, I had very... Bad habits. I was not nice to myself, emotionally, mentally, or physically. At all, really.

I was very harmful to myself. And lived in a very toxic environment. And, yes, Apollon being the sweetheart he is, accompanied me and wrapped bandages around my wounds, but, at the same time, he'd give me those stern (yet loving) talks about how I shouldn't inflict them on myself, how I shouldn't worsen the pain I was already going through by allowing myself to use the same weapons my parents, friends, ect would use on me, on myself.

To work with him, or any deities in my opinion, you have to be open to... Well... Change. And, that was drastically hard for me at first. But, the thing is, Apollon is a god of light and truth, as well. And some things that come with that are the light he'll shine on things you've pushed to the shadows, and the pain that'll come with having to face the truths of your reality.

Don't worry too much, however. That most likely won't happen until sometime into your journey with him. And, it'll be in your best interest whenever it does happen. Healing hurts, and he also rules in healing. He will re-open some of your deepest scars, but he does it to properly treat them and stitch them up himself. Not just the self-taught, shaky way that they were closed up before. If that makes sense, haha.

Also! Don't be afraid to get close with him when/if you two start working together. I've found out that he particularly enjoys being able to participate in some cliche's. Like having nick/petnames for one another, allowing him to listen to your ranting or vents, telling him small things about yourself (favorite colors, plants, ect), and so on.

A lot of the time, I see people who want so badly to get close with their deities, but are too afraid or unsure how to. All in all, it does depend on your form of love and what you're comfortable with. What you're able to do. But, it can be as simple as eating something in devotion for them. Thinking of them. Making them a small, or big, playlist. A pinterest board, ect ect. You can trust yourself to find ways to help feel closer to your deities, you can trust yourself.

And, no, you don't need a job to worship or get close to a god either.

(It's also very important to establish your boundaries, not that deities intentionally try to make you uncomfortable/to trigger you! It's just, you want to have some ground basics put down first, then maybe you'll learn some more along the way... Basically - communication. Very important, lol.)

Sorry I yapped as much as I did here, I hope it helped clear some things up for you, honey! May Apollon give you his loving rays.

[iwadori]

Haikyu boys when they make you insecure PT 1 (Kenma,Kuroo)

Part 1 Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6.

Word Count:3k 

genre: angst, fluff

masterlist

Kenma:

You and Kenma have been in a long distance relationship for a while.

Both of you stream, Kenma doing it seriously for his job and you just playing it for fun,

Sometimes you stream together of course but because of your difference in audiences and games you don’t do it all the time

“Bye guys! Hope you enjoyed todays stream” You wave off to the camera and shut off your PC taking a few sips of water.

Kenma: Hey.. nice stream today Y/N are you going to watch mine?

Y/N: Of course I will 

Kenma: Ok talk to you later

Y/N: okayy <3

Kenma is what inspired you to stream, he also taught you all the ins and outs of streaming making sure you were set and ready. Your gaming style was very relaxed and friendly as you obviously weren’t streaming as a career just for fun and to make friends with your online viewers. The games you played were usually: minecraft, COD, Sims 4, Roblox, Animal crossing and *Insert your favourite game here* the way I literally named all the games I play 

You wait for Kenmas stream to start, kind of excited as you’ve always loved seeing your boyfriend in his ‘element’ when it comes to playing to games. As your boyfriends stream starts you see he’s already chosen what game he is playing today which is to your surprise Call of duty, since that was the game you were playing earlier.

As he gets into the stream you are entertained, as always since Kenma was being his usual self laughing at his own deadpan jokes and interacting with his viewers. He is currently waiting for his capture the flag game to start so as he waits he decides to read some comments in the chat.

You’re used to the usual ‘Kenma where is Y/N I miss your usual streams together’ or ‘kenma please RAIL me’ which always makes you laugh. You were also used to the common hate comments Kenma and You both got on your streams but you were definitely not ready for this..

@ Ihatewomanandiamadick : Hey Kenma did you see your girls stream today she is so dog shit at COD lmaoooo jhdfkjdrhdrr

“Well hello ihatewomenandiamadick” started Kenma “but yes I did see Y/N stream and obviously she is not the best at games and I would definitely NOT ask her to team with me for any serious gaming competitions ... but she’s fun to watch I guess” as he finished speaking about you his game loaded up so he focused his attention on that the words he just spoke going to the back of his mind as they end up at the forefront of yours.

You obviously knew you were no match for Kenma’s gaming expertise but you didn’t expect him to publicly agree with a hate comment let alone add more of his imput on you. Did he really think that about you? ‘She’s fun to watch I guess’ did he not even enjoy your streams that much?

You wanted to distract yourself, and you definitely couldn’t do that watching him so you close off of his stream and get in your bed deciding to watch your favourite show. 

Waking up at 6pm after your sad nap, you see that Kenma has left some messages to you,

Kenma: hey did you watch my stream?

Kenma: do you want to facetime later and play some minecraft..?

Kenma: y/n r u ok??

Y/N: oh hey cnt play minecraft w you rn not really in the mood..

Kenma: oh ok..

Time passed since then a month to be exact and you basically dropped off of the face of the earth, you weren’t in the mood to do anything let alone game and stream, which was a constant reminder of your boyfriend (something you didn’t want at the time.) 

You felt embarrassed over all the things he said about you and all the things you now think he thinks about you and the way you play. Maybe he thinks even worse things about you, beyond just how you game? What if he doesn’t even genuinely like you...or he has someone else...it does make sense, you do both live miles and miles away from eachother AND he’s a big streamer you see the amount of girls in his comments.

You shake your head to erase your protruding thoughts coming in your mind, but it doesn’t really help. You and Kenma haven’t spoken much over this month he tried to constantly reach out to you at first but you assume he got bored over your constant, repetitive dry texts. So you were almost content with you and Kenma not even being in a relationship anymore.

However on Kenma’s side, he was beyond worried about you. Since you haven’t been streaming or barely responded to his texts he thought something happened to you, but he didn’t want to be seen as ‘overstepping boundaries’ if there was nothing wrong at all with you and you simply were just ‘not in the mood.’ 

So here he is, in Kuroo’s apartment trying to get him to help him out on finding out what is wrong with you.

“So kenma can you remember what happened the day when Y/N went ‘ghost’“ asked Kuroo in a mock detective voice

“Y/N didn’t go ‘ghost’ Kuro, and take this seriously” said Kenma “I’m worried bout her”

“Okay fine, but for real what’s the last thing you remember before she started acting all weird.” 

“Umm I think it was around a month ago I did my saturday stream and I think she was on it but she didn’t leave her usual nice comments throughout”

“Ohh that was the stream when you sai-” Kuroo said before pausing his words as the memory of what Kenma said about you on his stream came in his mind, as even Kuroo thought it was a tad bit harsh for Kenma to say all those things “I think I know why Y/N has been so distant kiddo”

“What why?” Asked Kenma

Kuroo pulls out his phone and brings up the clip off what Kenma said and Kenma’s face cringes ‘did he really say all those things about you’ he thinks. 

“Shit.. I didn’t know I said all of that” he said quietly “how do I make it up to her?”

“There’s only one thing you can really do Kenma” said kuroo

You are woken up out of your sleep by a knock on the door. Getting out your bed like a zombie, you trudge to your front door only surprised by what you see. There in his 5′6 glory stood your ‘boyfriend’ Kenma with a controller and a kitten teddy in his hand. You were very tempted to shut the door in his face and get back to your dreamless sleep but you waited on him to speak.

“Hi Y/N” he said quietly “wanna play some minecraft...?”

“Why so you can ridicule me on how shit I am?” You ask bitterly ready to shut the door on him

“No! No not all” he said stopping you from shutting the door entering your place “Y/N i’m really sorry on what I said, I wasn’t thinking AT ALL... I love watching your streams and I think you’re great at playing games...I was just being a dick,”

You take a deep breath before tears pool in your eyes “what you said really hurt me kenma..” you say “ I know people say shitty things on the internet all the time... it’s the internet. But I wasn’t expecting you to agree with the hater and say even more shitty things on top of that.. I don’t think I want to even stream anymore”

Upon hearing that, Kenma’s mouth parts open with shock ‘you dont want to stream anymore’ were his comments that bad? Now he feel even worse as he should and is now more determined to make things right. 

He impulsively drags your arm into your game room, catching your surprise ‘what is he up too?’ you think. He stops for a second seeing your usual pristine gaming set up, collected up with dust. 

“What are you do-” you start 

“Just wait!” He says, as he rushes away turning on all your stuff and logging onto his twitch account as he sees the views go up he starts to speak

 “Hi guys, its me kodzuken and today I’m here on stream with my beautiful girlfriend and today I want to say..” he turns to you “Y/N im so sorry for the horrible things I said to you that day... I was just being a dick and I’m sorry I really am.”

You look at the chat and you see some confusion and some people recalling his words from last month. “It’s fine Kenma, I forgive you” you say giving him a hug”

“Okay Y/N, so what do you say... wanna beat my ass at bed wars?” He says with a smirk 

“When have I ever loss?” you return his smirk

Of course you did beat his ass as bed wars for rounds on rounds never losing proving yourself to actually be a good gamer girl. You enjoyed your time with Kenma, forgetting what he said before about you and moving on. 

Eventually, you guys moved in together and streamed together all the time and yes you still do play for fun but you’ve gotten way better at COD (some may say better then Kenma) but who is better didn’t matter to any of you, as long as you got to play together that’s all you both cared about.

Kuroo:

Kuroo and you have been together since you were in your first year of high school 

You met as friends first when you got him to tutor you in chemistry ( a subject you still aren’t that good at.)

Now you have your upcoming entrance exams for university in a month so your school has you doing mock exams in preparation for them.

20%

You look down at your chemistry paper that your teacher just handed you. 20%. You’re surprised, very surprised since out of all your subjects (that you go 90+% on) you studied on the chemistry test the hardest ensuring Testurou, that you didn’t need his help at all. But I guess it turns out, you did.

This failing mock grade put a blunder on your day, you didn’t interact with anyone and didn’t want to see your boyfriend so you skipped your usual routine of meeting him on the rooftop and went to the library instead ‘might aswell start early on your studying’ you thought.

As you were going over your chemistry topics, you hear an ‘ahem’ next to you and you turn your head only to find your boyfriend and his friends next to you. Kuroo with his usual goofy smile on his face. 

“Hey kitten where were you at lunch?” he asked 

“Needed to go to the library, Chemistry is kicking my ass” you mumbled 

“Oya” he said as he noticed your chemistry test laying under your textbook “20%, well damn Y/N I knew you were stupid, but I didn’t know you were that stupid” he laughed doing his stupid usual hyena-like laugh.

Ouch well that hurt. You slightly flinched at his words, “Really your name, you didn’t know the molecular formula for ethanol, that’s first year work” he said continuing to laugh “I’m pretty sure that’s one of the first things I tutored you on when we first met” 

His overbearing laughter was not good for you, you were already having a bad day and yes you do know your not that good at chemistry but you didn’t need your chemistry-enthusiast boyfriend to make fun of you for failing. Kenma and Yaku stood there awkwardly obviously aware of how bad Kuroo is making you feel but they didn’t really know how to stop his friend in the moment.Whilst he’s still dying of laughter you decide to pack up your stuff and leave the library.

You managed to get your Chemistry tutor to let you retake your mock paper in a week so that means, extra hard studying with no distractions you definitely can’t fail again. Since studying on your own was definitely not a good option, and you couldn’t go to Kuroo (especially after he ridiculed you) you decided to ask the second smartest person you know to tutor you.

Y/N: Hey Yaku! Can I ask you a favour?

Yaku: Hi Y/N what do you need??

Y/N: I have my chemistry retake next week, and as you know from your loud-loud friend I failed my recent test so can you tutor me?? 

Y/N: Pleaseeee

Yaku: Ok Y/N why can’t you ask Kuroo you know that he’d be more than happy to help

Y/N: Yakuu pleasee just help me out 

So there you was, nearly a week done with your study sessions with Yaku and you’re feeling way more confident than before. 

“Y/N what is the functional group of a Carboxylic Acid” Yaku asked

“umm... COO?” 

“Great! that’s correct Y/N” he praises i dont actually know if it’s correct or not

You then hear a knock at Yaku’s front door and hear his mum let the person in, Kuroo then enters Yaku’s bedroom with shock plastered on his face surprised to see you here.

“Y/N...hey?” he says confused “what are you doing here?”

“Oh Mori-chan is just helping me with chemistry for my retake tommorow” you say nochalantly internally smiling at the twinge in Kuroo’s face at the purposeful use of Yaku’s first name.

“So why didn’t you ask me to help you know I’m a chemistry whiz” he asks

“Maybe I’m too stupid to be taught under your tutelage” you mumble “since I seem to forget whatever you teach me, even when it’s 3 years ago... but ok”

“Y/N I-” he starts 

“Oh save it Kuroo, I have studying to do” you say cutting him off

“But I-” he tries

“So Mori-chan COOH is the function group of ethyl ethonate right?” you ask ignoring your boyfriend who is now at a lost for words

“ummm yeah it is” says yaku who is clearly feeling heavily awkward at the tension in his bedroom.

Kuroo leaves and you and yaku finish off the studying for the night, you did feel a little bad for being a bit mean to Kuroo but it’s karma for him being a dick to you. 

You wake up the next day ready for your exam which was first thing in the morning, before you hand in your phone you see a message from Kuroo,

Kuroo: I know you’re still mad at me, but I think you’re going to do so well on this test. You’re not stupid at all, you’re really smart and I love you < 3 

Kuroo: Good luck Y/N

You don’t respond to the message but smile at the sincerity of it and thankful for the boost of confidence it gave you before you start your exam.

Finishing the exam with a smile, you were confident you did well as everything you and Yaku went over was on the paper and you’re almost certain you atleast got more than 75%. You have to wait an hour before your teacher can give you your results, so in the meantime you might aswell reconcile with Kuroo.

When you exit the classroom, standing there was Kuroo who seemed to have been waiting for you for the whole duration of the exam.

“So how was it?” Kuroo asked, apprenhensive as he assumed you would just ignore him like you did at Yaku’s house.

“It was fine, I think it went alright..” you say

“Kuroo”

“Y/N”

You say simultaneously, he pauses for a second to let you speak “I’m sorry I was being so stand offish when we were at Yaku’s I just wanted you to see I could do it on my own, and when you called me stupid I really took that to heart since you and I both know that Chemistry wasn’t ever my best subject” 

“I’m sorry too, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, and since it was only a practice test I didn’t think you’d take it to heart but I am sorry I know you aren’t stupid.”

Before you got to say anything else, your Chemistry teacher exited the room with your chemistry paper in hand. Kuroo grabbed your hand anticipating your nerves and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Miss L/N” said your teacher “Well done on your chemistry test” he turned your test around to sure a perfect 100%. Both you and Kuroo gasped, you were elated to say the least you wanted to jump up and down in excitement but a PERFECT 100%.

“I’d also like to add that you have now got the top chemistry score in the school beating the previous title holder Kuroo Testurou” said your teacher, this made Kuroo open his mouth even wider in surprise nearly making you giggle at his response. 

Your teacher took his leave, leaving you and Kuroo in the hallway “ I guess i’m the chemistry whizz now “ you say wiggling your eyebrows just as Kuroo did to you before at Yaku’s this made him chuckle as he came to put his arm around you.

“Y/N don’t get ahead of yourself now, you may have won this battle but I will win the war” he said smiling

In the final exam, you continue your winning streak also getting a near 100% and still beating Kuroo which didn’t matter to either of you, now you’re just like him cracking chemistry puns and jokes all the time which none of your friends appreciated but atleast Kuroo found them SODIUM funny.

AN: Please kill me for the last line of Kuroos, I didn’t really like Kuroo’s since it was a bit self indulgent with my hate for chemistry but what do you guys think?

[parvulous-writings]

Not so Wyld morning // Bill S Preston + Ted Logan x M!Reader

Request:     can you write a fluff oneshot with bill (s preston) x ted logan x m! reader with like. a sleepy morning between the three?

Requested by: @mlmpunisher​

Summary: Starts off as the request, and then goes off on a trip to the Circle K. I may or may not have gotten carried away. 

Warnings: a brief joke about kidnapping/death.

Words: 3.5K

Notes:  I’ve been waiting for an idea/request for these two. They’re my comfort idiots. My love for them... Let’s just say I watch the movies a fair amount, eh? My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!

Not my gif 

You, Bill and Ted were spread rather haphazardly over Bill’s bed. Legs crossed over one another, hands on chests or in faces. You were all tangled together, not that any of you really cared about that at that moment.  You had all fallen asleep during a study session- you had been desperately trying to tutor your boyfriends Bill and Ted, so that they didn’t fail their history class and completely flunk out of school- mostly because Ted’s father, Captain Logan, was threatening to send the taller boy away to an Alaskan military school to whip him into shape should he fail the semester. That was now an all too real threat to the three of you, none of you wanted to get pulled apart from one another. You had been trying to quiz them on the philosophies of the great Athenian thinker Socrates (whom both young men insisted on pronouncing So-Crates no matter how many times you corrected them) when you passed out one by one. First Ted- who was up against the headboard, and whose head had slumped forward when you had gotten onto the fifth or sixth question. Then Bill, draped over Ted’s legs, after leaning back to protest about how the quiz was starting to become “A total drag,” around the tenth question. He had promptly passed out whilst you were telling him it was for their own good- you weren’t all that surprised when you were interrupted by a rather loud snore coming from the curly-haired Bill.You hadn’t bothered to try and wake either of them- not only would they both be rather irritable if you woke them up too early, but it was nearly one o’clock in the morning at that point, so you figured that perhaps they were both subconsciously onto something.  You had taken the range and array of textbooks off of the bed, creating a little more space for you to somehow work yourself between them and get more comfortable to get some sleep of your own. After some shuffling, and a few murmurs from both Bill and Ted, you had found the perfect position, where you had promptly fallen asleep with them.

You were the first to wake up. Ted had taken your arm in both of his in your sleep, cuddling it as if it were a teddy bear. Bill’s legs had somehow tangled with yours, and he had ended up nuzzled into the side of your chest, not that you minded all that much. Though Ted was the more affectionate of your boyfriends in public, Bill could be just as affectionate as him in private. You tried not to move at first, not wanting to disturb them- they could both be as bad as each other when it came to being woken up too early (too early was counted as anything before they woke up by themselves). So, for what you had gauged to be about twenty minutes or so, you just laid there, staring up at the ceiling. There were no thoughts of any importance that drifted through your mind at this point, not until you had finally grown restless enough to carefully push yourself up onto one elbow to check the time on Bill’s alarm clock- which he rarely actually used as anything more than just a normal clock. It had just gone half past ten, and you felt your eyes go wide- that was much later than you had anticipated. Thankfully it was a weekend, though briefly your brain had tricked itself into thinking it was mid-week, causing even more of a jolt in your chest. You would have to get up soon to make your way back home; it was bad enough that you had spent the night out without letting your parents know that you’d be out past eleven o’clock. Every moment past nine in the morning that you spent away from them, the angrier they would get with you.  With this thought in mind you tried to push yourself up a little bit more, fully prepared to undertake the rather massive task of trying to begrudgingly untangle yourself from the two men you held dear, but you were quickly brought back down again by an unseen hand. Your head landed on Ted’s stomach, and you glanced over to him, seeing him peering back at you through tired eyes and a rather messy head of hair. He gave you a rather dopey smile, and you realised he was the one to pull you back; mostly prompted by the fact that Bill was giving another round of freight-train like snores. Ted’s head fell back again when you didn’t struggle against his protests of getting out of bed, and he gave a yawn before beginning to speak. “Morning, chief.” He mumbled, voice still raspy with the last dregs of sleep his body was trying to cling onto.  “I don’t get why you call me that.” You replied in a whisper, trying not to wake Bill. “Surely I should be the one calling you that- given your dad’s job and everything...”  “Eh,” Was Ted’s simple reply, accompanied with a rather lazy shrug. It was about a minute before the only other boy awake in the room started to speak again. “I mean, it does kind of suit you, doesn’t it? You keep me and Bill in order...” He prompted, glancing over to you with that same goofy smile, before his gaze moved back to the ceiling.  “For the most part, I guess.” You smiled back at him, taking his hand and draping his arm across you, so you could play absently with his fingers. Ted never minded that. 

The pair of you fell into a comfortable silence, which was disturbed only briefly, and rather inconsistently, by Bill’s snores. You weren’t sure how long you laid there for this time, but the rather delightful monotonous repetition was ultimately interrupted by a quiet groan of protest from the blonde haired boy at the end of the bed. He rolled onto his front, trying to cover his eyes- he had fallen asleep rather inconveniently where the light peaked through the blinds in the early morning. “Someone close the blinds,” He complained, trying to turn away from them but ultimately failing.  “Bill...” You chuckled lightly, nudging him to get his attention. “They are closed. The light is coming through the gap.” Your words were only met with a groan from Bill, and a stifled laugh from Ted.  “You should get it fixed, dude.” The taller boy jested, nudging the boy again, and Bill responded with a half-hearted swipe at Ted’s foot.  “Shut up, Ted.” Of course, he didn’t mean this in an inherently horrid way, despite his gruff tone. He loved both you and Ted deeply, more than he could love anything else- or at least that was what he thought. Ted thought very much the same thing- though that was no surprise. More often than not, it was like the two shared the exact same brain. If they were not thinking of the exact same plan down to the detail when it came to schemes, they were at the very least agreed on the end result. Most of the time this wasn’t too much of a problem for you- usually you were at the butt end of whatever shenanigan they were plotting- but there were times when you did get a little bit overwhelmed by the pair of them. More often than not, the times where you got overwhelmed involved a very particular phone-booth, with some rather unique properties. Unless you were in it’s presence you tried not to think about it- the amount of times you had been put through mind-bending situations already made your head spin to even consider again. They’d predict something, it would happen immediately after said prediction, then they would turn to one another and proclaim a quick “Excellent!” before reminding one another that they would need to remember that later. You were still a little bit confused by it- especially when they sprung something random on you-but you thought you were slowly starting to understand, even though the concept of time travel didn’t seem quite real. 

You broke your train of thought upon feeling a sudden weight on your chest. Though you wanted to crane your neck to see who it was, you didn’t really need to, you knew it was Bill. You did it anyway- your eyes being met with the golden curls of Bill’s hair. “Bill, love, I’m going to have to get up soon.” You warned him, as your movement would definitely affect him more than Ted.  “No.” He replied simply. From his tone, you could tell he didn’t overly want to debate it.  “But I stayed over without letting my parents-”  “You’re fine, you’re safe, what do they have to complain about?” He grumbled, shuffling so that his chin was on your stomach, his arms wrapped around your middle. His deep green eyes met yours, before flitting briefly to Ted, giving you both a smile. “C’mon, dude. It won’t hurt to have a little longer with us, right?” He asked, and you moved your hand to quickly brush a stray curl from his brow.  “Maybe he should go soon- like, just to check in.” Ted piped up, ever in your corner. “Cause you know what happens if he gets in trouble. He won’t get to see us for like... A week. That is most heinous, and you know it.” At this rather right line of reasoning, Bill groaned, burying his face into the fabric of your shirt.  “Shut up, Ted.” This was quite muffled, and of course still not completely serious. You laughed softly, “Okay- what about this? One hour. Like this.Then, we can ask Missy to drive us back to my place, and I can let my parents know I’m fine, and you two haven’t like... Murdered me, or something.” You joked, and you can feel Ted nod enthusiastically underneath you.  “Yeah, that’s a good idea!” He agreed, and you could hear the smile that was in no doubt plastered onto his face. “Then we can all head down to the Circle K afterwards, right?”  “Sure we can, Ted.” You agreed, reaching up behind you to clumsily pat his cheek.  “Only if he isn’t in trouble, remember?” Bill pitched in, shuffling to get comfortable again. “What about half an hour? If we want to head to Circle K, obviously.” You all consider this new plan for a moment, before each of you gave a curt nod, in unison. 

So there you all stayed- you nearly even fell asleep again before you felt Bill roll off of you. He then took your arm and helped you up, and Ted quickly rolled off of the bed to grab his sneakers. Bill chucked yours at you, before going to get his shoes as well. Ted was the first downstairs- “Hey, Missy?” He called out, and he was quickly met with the young woman’s reply.  “Yeah? What’s up, Ted?” She asked, giving a warm smile.  “We were hoping that you could drive us to (Y/N)’s house?” He asked, briefly wringing his hands, as he eagerly awaited her response.  “Sure thing!” She nodded cheerily, “Let me just finish making these drinks, and I’ll be right with you. You guys go out to the car.” She nodded over to the door leading to the garage. As you and Bill started down the stairs, Ted eagerly gestured for you both to follow him.  It didn’t take Missy very long to finish making the drinks she was preparing, and you all piled into the car. “So- did you all sleep well?” The blonde woman asked, glancing back at you and Bill in the back of the car- Ted had a fascination with sitting in the front seat. Ted and Bill nodded individually; you were the one to verbally reply.  “Yeah, I think we all got a fairly good night sleep.” You give an almost awkward smile. Though, at one point, both of your boyfriends had had some form of crush on her- despite her being quite a few years older than all of you- you hadn’t entirely understood why. You never really mentioned it though.  “Good to hear,” She replied, still wearing that joyful smile. “Hey, Bill- you might need to use the spare key today, the one behind the plant, if you’re staying out late with the boys.” She took a turning as she spoke, keeping her eyes on the road. “Me and your dad are going out for dinner tonight.”  “Okay, Missy- I mean, mom.” Bill replied, quickly correcting himself on his mistake. “Just stop on the corner here,” He told her, gesturing to the side of the road a five minute walk from your house.  “Are you sure?” She asked, glancing over her shoulder as she spoke. “I can take you all the way, if you-”  “No, it’s alright, thanks, Missy.” You interrupt quickly, leaning forward. “Here is fine.” She shrugged, but begrudgingly pulled over. 

“Thanks, Missy!” Ted called after the now fleeting car, giving a wave as well, before jogging to catch up with you and Bill, who had already started to cross the road to get to your street. “I’ll quickly grab some money whilst we’re there,” You told the pair of them, and they nodded.  “I was thinking we could get some slushies.” Ted suggested, giving a wide smile.  “Blue and red?” Bill added, giving a smile of his own, and Ted nodded energetically.  “Our tongues’ll end up as purple, you two know that, right?” You teased with a grin, glancing over your shoulder as Bill laughed heartily. It took Ted a moment longer to get the joke, but he started laughing even harder than Bill when it clicked with him.  “Oh well,” Bill shrugged, a rather mischievous smile. You fell into silence again as you jogged up your driveway, almost wrenching open the door and calling out a hasty “Hey!” to announce your presence to the household and those within it. You quickly made your way to your room, as Bill and Ted quietly entered your home after you, choosing to stay in the hallway- even though they had visited and stayed over at your house many times before. They were both silently hoping that they were making their will to leave relatively soon clear. Your father came into the living room, glancing to the two boys standing awkwardly in the hallway. “Bill, Ted.” He greeted, calmly. Bill mouthed a silent ‘Hi’, whilst Ted just waved. Neither of them wanted to anger your parents- Ted, because he knew how authority figures could be, he’d had experience with his own father, and Bill just didn’t want you to be punished and kept away from them. You came back through as quickly as you could, palming some of your loose change in your hand, making sure you would have enough for a slushie for yourself, and for your boyfriends if they hadn’t brought any money with them- which was more than likely.  “Going out again?” Your father asked you, wanting to make some sort of conversation. You nodded, glancing to him and giving a smile.  “Yeah, heading out to Circle K with Bill and Ted.” You told him. He was a lot more relaxed with the rules than your mother- whom you currently assumed to be out for lunch with one of her friends.  “Did your study session go well, then?”  “Yeah- we went over Socrates again. We all passed out- that’s why I didn’t come home or call last night.” Your father laughed gently, he understood.  “I figured as much. Your mother was saying that you could have been kidnapped- but I kept saying you’re a smart kid, you’d know what to do if that were a risk. Plus, I don’t think there’s anyone in San Dimas who would want to kidnap you.”  “Even if they did want to steal him away, we’d take whoever it is on,” Bill stated, confidently- nudging Ted.  “Yeah, we would!” The taller boy confirmed with a nod. You giggled and shook your head at the pair. Even your father chuckled gently at them.  “Good to know my son is in safe hands.” Though your father was aware that these two weren’t the sharpest tools in the shed of San Dimas, he wasn’t about to take away some of your only company. Your mother had brought it up to him before, but he usually elected to ignore the comments. “Anyway- get going, before your mother gets back. If she sees you going off with these to again without checking in properly she’ll have a fit.” He gestured to the door, “Just be back by eleven tonight, alright?”  “We’ll have him back by then!” Ted told him, opening the door and striding out, followed closely by Bill, and then you. Your father gave a wave, before heading back into your family home. 

There were few words on the journey to the local orange ringed store, you only started to speak again when you had each purchased your chosen flavour of slushie. Bill with strawberry, Ted with blue raspberry, and you with another blue raspberry. You all took a seat on the curb, and you decided to fill the silence with one of the first thoughts that came to your head mid-sip. “So, are you two ready for the end-of-semester presentation Mr Ryan is going to assign?” You asked, and both of your boyfriends looked rather shocked. “What? He’s done it with every other year-group, and we’re not exactly different, specification wise....” You pointed out, and Ted groaned.  “I suck at presentations.” He complained, “Plus neither of us can remember anything that Mr Ryan has taught us!” He exclaimed, gesturing rather wildly with his slushie. “I mean, even with your help, dude, I don’t think we’re going to do all that well.” You were about to speak, but Bill was the one to step in first.  “We gotta try, man,” He placed an affectionate hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder, “If we don’t, it’s even more likely that you’re going to be sent off to that heinous school in Alaska.” Ted considered this, then nodded. Bill was right.  “I’ll do everything I can to help my boys remember all they can,” You told them, a fond smile on your face which they quickly returned. They loved being referred to as your boys, they couldn’t even deny it- you could see it in their eyes. Bill leant over and pressed a very brief kiss to your cheek- though not before checking the parking lot was clear, empty of onlookers- and Ted reached across Bill’s legs to grab your hand, squeezing your palm to show some affection; you were too far away for a kiss from him, and he didn’t overly want to get up whilst his slushie was still rather full. He took a sip from the plastic straw in his beverage, before clearing his throat. “So..” He began, starting to grin wider than usual. “Who wants to make purple?” He nudged Bill, who then quickly looked to you, wearing the same grin as your other boyfriend. You started to laugh- of course this had been something that neither of them had forgotten. 

Without another word exchanged between you, you leant to close the gap between you and Bill, letting lips and tongue tangle in a passionate display of affection. Ted stared on adoringly, not overly minding that Bill was the first to get your attention and affection- though now he had finished off the majority of his drink he scuttled round to your other side, carefully taking your jaw in his hand when you eventually pulled away from Bill to catch your breath. Your break didn’t last for too long, since Ted pulled you gently so your already kiss swollen lips met his equally soft ones. Bill couldn’t help the warm and love-filled smile that spread over his face, before he just had to press a kiss to your cheek, and then reach over to Ted’s cheek to make sure he wasn’t left out. You all separated after a minute or so, and you wiped your lip carefully, wearing the same wide and almost goofy smile as the other two. Your lips, and tongue, as predicted, had turned a rather strange shade of purple.  “I think we should get another snack,” Ted suggested, “Cause I’m hungry, and then we can get the colour off of our tongues,” He grinned, and Bill considered the preposition.  “I guess some food wouldn’t hurt...” He agreed, “Marshmallows?” He suggested, which was replied to with a nod from both you and Ted. “I’ll get them then,” Bill smiled at you both, searching his pocket for some spare change as he got to his feet; marshmallows were a fair bit cheaper than slushies, and he could afford them with what he had to hand. Whilst he went back into the Circle K, you shuffled closer to Ted, smiling lightly as he drew you closer with an arm around your shoulder. That morning had certainly been most excellent, as most of the time with your boyfriends always was- it was something that you always looked forward to; spending time with them, making memories that would forever make you smile. 

[skreej]

Duster isssss maybe just one of my FAVORITE things to talk about EVER and I am going to talk about it now this is going to be long. SO. To be clear. I am talking about Duster the band they are one of my favorite bands and I aim to educate all of my friends about it so I can make more nerd comments about it. ANYWAY I want to talk now.

"Space Rock" OKAY. First an introduction. Some of Duster's music falls into the genre of space rock. I'm not even going to get into the fact that I love love love that name so so much because it's a pun buuuut I hadn't heard of it before reading the Wikipedia article for this band. Space rock has roots in psychedelia and is known for being trancelike. WHICH IS EXACTLY THE REASON WHY I LOVE DUSTER SO MUCH. I was talking to @b00kotter and I kept repeating that it sounds like you're being put in a trance with the repetition of riffs and everything ugh I love it so much. Also space theme. Duster's albums tend to have at least a couple songs in them based around space, and they have albums called Capsule Losing Contact and Stratosphere which are almost all songs with space themes. Love. Anyway. Keep in mind space rock.

"Stratosphere" The song. Is. Noises. I don't EVEN CARE actually because guess what that also happens to be the name of the album. So yes I will listen to seven gorgeous luscious minutes of noises. Because they're space noises and guitar noises which are TWO. OF. MY. FAVORITE. THINGS. Otter also told me that she listened to this song while studying and I didn't believe at first that anyone else would be so insane that they would actually listen to seven minutes of space noises but I am so so so glad that she did. I want to say that this song, although it's avant garde, adds something that is hard to identify (for me) to the album. Without it I feel like the album wouldn't be complete. Yes the album is called Stratosphere and it IS themed around space so why oh why would they not include this song? Grammarly is very mad at that sentence because the clarity is not good but I don't care it is a literal computer application it can shush. ANYWAY the song is just mmmmmmslfaksflksajf it doesn't make sense but it also really really does. In the words of Otter, it's "organic", and in my words it's "organic in a material way"??? If that makes literally any sense. Listen to it.

"Constellations" Also from Stratosphere and also in Capsule Losing Contact. Song with words. This song is going to be one of the top songs in my Spotify Wrapped because I love listening to it on repeat while studying or doing homework (this is a theme whenever I talk about music lmao). You know why? It's because of the trance. It's distorted and gorgeous and it makes so much sense. Constellations???? is such a great name for this song. Otter brought this up I will give credit to her. The reason she gave was that if constellations had a sound from Earth it would be distorted and UGHHAKSDHKJKHAKFHFON that is PERFECT. Listen to this one too.

"Sleepyhead" This one is from Together, Duster's most recent album at the time of me writing this. Otter had to deal with a few minutes of me going absolutely feral and foaming at the mouth because there are some small scratches in this song. But scratches I mean the sound that comes from an amp when your hand hits the strings of an electric guitar and I don't know how to explain it any other way. To hear the first one it is around the 0:28 - 0:30 mark and you have to listen closely. It may be hard to believe but I also love and appreciate this song for more reasons than the scratches INCLUDING! that I cannot decipher most of the lyrics. Now this may seem a little strange but the words I do hear are the exact buzzwords for a comfort song. Things like perfect, familiar faces, quiet, gentle, soft, sunset.... words like this. AND GUESS WHAT I JUST LOOKED UP THE LYRICS AND THEY'RE BEAUTIFUL. Please also listen to this song. It was half of the inspiration for my original username as well as "Golden Slumbers" by the Beatles but that's a story for another time.

This is going to be all I can write for now sadly but if I want to I might write more rant posts about bands or songs I like or anything because I have recently been actually writing my own thoughts instead of just reblogging. So yes. I hope you enjoyed and it's crazy if you actually read all of my words that I didn't proofread even once or fact check so enjoy and good night.

[sunshinetoshi]

saying and staying in love

timeskip!oikawa x reader (2.1k words)

tw: angst, mention of cheating (kind of)

A/N: hello!! if you’ve stumbled upon this and want to read some imo kinda painful oikawa angst i’m going to link part one here. heheh reason for that is this is actually part four of a (5) part fic that i split up and i think out of all the parts this one is the one that needs context about what’s going on. and if you’re from the other parts!! ty for continuing to support this fic 💓 this part is more plot-based and is meant to get the story moving to set up the final chapter so it’s not as sad as the others lol but i still really like some of the details in this one so i hope you enjoy!! (if it’s a bit wonky let’s pretend it’s not my brain is kinda fried rn)

You debated clicking the record button on your television about eight times now. Groaning, you plopped onto your new couch.

You moved apartments about two weeks ago. It was only a few blocks away from your old place but you just needed a new space. It had been nearly a month since you two said goodbye on your old living room floor.

You looked around at the small, still unfamiliar, apartment. And as you stared at your stuff still in moving boxes stacked around your coffee table, you felt a wave of fear. It all felt too new.

And so you clicked record.

See the plan was that you were going to watch the recording in the morning after you woke up and had breakfast. That was the plan when you clicked record earlier. But here you were. Awake at two in the morning, eyes pried to the television.

He was doing it. He was their new starting setter, playing his first professional volleyball game.

A soft smile grazed your lips seeing him enjoy himself. He was where he was meant to be. You were thankful to still see passion in his eyes when he served. And you felt the familiar rush of being awestruck watching him in action.

They won by a landslide. After he cheered with his new teammates after the final spike you watched as he found a camera and pointed straight at it with a fire in his eyes. It was electrifying.

The media was all focused on him for post-game shots and interviews as if they weren’t spewing his stats and general background the entire game. Interview after interview and they were asking the same questions. At times you almost snorted in amusement at how he craftily answered, always charming his way through interviews. Your mind began to wander as the repetitive questions kept coming. But then you heard a new set of questions.

“This is your first official game and from the looks of the crowd here you already have quite the following!” They panned to the stands where there were in fact clusters of young fans ogling and cheering at him. It was quite the slap in the face for you. But you listened as the interviewer continued on, “But I saw what you did with the camera when you won. Is there already a special one in your life? Or was that your way of saying ‘hi’ to those watching from Japan?”

You studied him closely. The words from his letter echoed in your head. How was he going to answer?

He let out a small fake laugh before a genuine grin settled on his face. You noticed his tone was serious this time. “Well I want my friends and family to see me but someone in particular told me they’d be cheering for me. They told me to come here and show everyone what I’m made of. So that was for them, to let them know. I’ll be doing my best every set I play so I can really give them a game worth watching.”

Your jaw dropped and your eyes began to water. He was talking about you. He used your exact words from that night.

And he kept to his word that he said in that interview. And every game he pointed at the camera. Pointed at you. And it gave you chills. You kept your word too and watched every one of his games, cheering him on.

-----

Five years had passed.

And a lot had happened. You had finally graduated from college and now had a stable job. You even adopted a pet. And your small apartment finally felt like home.

You were in such a good place in all these aspects of your life. You’ve gone through so much growth and you could confidently say you were happy.

You hadn’t spoken to Oikawa in all this time. But you still watched his games. And he still found the camera and pointed at you. It no longer caused a yearning in your heart to hold him again nor did it bring up hurt from what he did. There was only pride and happiness that he was living his dream. He always will have your support.

But when you watched the news about the fast approaching Olympics you could feel your stomach doing a couple flips at the thought of Oikawa coming back.

-----

One day you left your work for the day. And you were surprised by an old friend you hadn’t seen in a very long time.

“Hajime,” your voice was filled with nostalgia.

He gave you a gentle smile, “Hey, it’s been a while. You look good, Y/N.”

“Thanks, you too! What are you doing here?”

“Oh,” he scratched the back of his head, “People from our high school are big gossips and I found out you worked here.”

“They definitely are,” you joked light-heartedly, “But I actually meant why are you here? I assumed you’d be pretty busy being a coach right about now. Congratulations by the way! Athletic trainer for the national team! That’s no small feat.” 

“Thanks! And yeah I’m pretty busy but uh, well I wanted to give you this,” he took something from his pocket and handed it out to you hastily.

“Hm?” You take it and you almost lose your breath from reading it. It was a ticket to the Olympic volleyball events. “I- what?”

“I thought you’d like to finally watch one of his pro games in person. It’s been a while since you’ve been in the stands.” He saw your apprehension at the mention of his best friend and quickly added, “It’ll get you in for Japan’s games too. Cheer on your country.”

You just stared at the ticket.

Iwaizumi sighed, “Y/N, I know I came here so suddenly and it must all be a confusing mix of emotions. I’m not saying you should forget what he did or anything like that but this is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing. Don’t you think? Going to the Olympics. Not even for him or for me but just as a spectator, I think it’s a big opportunity.” He tries to quell the different worries he figured were running through your mind right now. “Plus, I picked a seat away from the court, he won’t see you and he doesn’t know I’m giving this to you. It’s just something I wanted to do for you. Just, at least think about it.”

You looked up at your old friend. “I’ll think about it. Thank you, really. I’m sure you had to pull a couple strings for this, this is really kind of you.”

He nodded and checked the time on his watch, “Well, I have to get going. I just wanted to stop by here on my way to a dinner thing but maybe one day we can catch up.” He scratched at the back of his neck, “I know it’s been a while but it was really nice seeing you. It’s been so long that we haven’t talked, I missed you.”

You smiled in agreement, “I know, I missed you too. But I’m glad life has been pretty good to us since we last saw each other. It was really nice seeing you today. We’ll definitely catch up one day.”

He smiled and started walking away with a wave but you called out his name. He turned to you. 

You looked a little sheepish but this had been in your mind the moment you saw Iwaizumi. “I just wanted to say thank you. I know you’ve been keeping that promise you made me all those years ago. You’re a good guy, Hajime.”

-----

You sat down in your seat and immediately wanted to get right back up and make a run for it. But you had built up guilt. You didn’t come for the first four days of the preliminary round and decided just this morning to come for the fifth and last game of the preliminaries. So you sat still and waited for the game to start.

When you saw Oikawa walk onto the court you did lose your breath a little. You've been watching him all this time but seeing him on the court, knowing you two were in the same building put surprising knots in your stomach.

But Iwaizumi was right, it was fun regardless of the history you had with Oikawa. You cheered alongside everyone and watched the game intensely.

A few moments made you want to crawl away though. Like in the beginning when you heard some familiar voices and whipped your head around to see some of the old Aoba Johsai team members who were around your year. You ducked your head a little until you were sure they passed. Or when they showed some of the teams’ family members on the big screen. When you saw how big Oikawa’s nephew got you were flooded with memories.

When the game was over and they won you watched with wide eyes as you saw, in person, Oikawa turning to find a camera and pointing at it. Just as he did on the recording of the game you watched from the last match. Just as he did all those games before that. It felt unreal to see it live. But you stopped yourself from overthinking it all. And you made an extra effort not to delve into hypotheticals. You were here to support an old friend and to experience the country be the venue of the Olympics.

-----

When you got home and made yourself a snack you realized you were running low on food and decided to go to the grocery store. You were halfway there when you abruptly stopped walking. It was an unbelievable sight.

In front of you stood Oikawa, looking up at the building in front of him. 

Instinctively, you looked up at it yourself. It was your old apartment building.

Your mind raced with what to do and you could feel your heartbeat beginning to quicken. You didn’t know if you should walk past him, walk up to him, or just turn back around to your apartment. But you found yourself moving toward him.

“Tooru.” You watched as his body froze at his name. Did he recognize your voice? When he turned to face you, you couldn’t help but smile. He was here.

“Y/N?”

You nodded. Starting to feel a little shy you shifted your weight and after tearing your eyes away from all the small parts of his features that have changed you gestured toward the building in front of you. “What’re you doing here? Would’ve thought you’d be busy with the festivities, Olympic Village and all,” you ended with a small smile.

He still looked slightly stunned to see you but he shook it off and smiled back at you. His smile seemed not to have changed, you noted. “Reminiscing, I guess.”

You two stared at one another for a bit, now taking the time to take one another in.

You’ve watched him this whole time but just like at the game earlier, to see him in person was different. You could feel his eyes on you as he looked at you for the first time in five years. You wanted to gulp when you noticed a familiar warmth in his eyes, another wave of mixed emotions hit you. 

“Congratulations on today’s win.” You wanted to break the ice. The air was too strong, too emotion-filled already.

A small blush dusted his cheeks, “You watched?”

“I said I would, didn’t I?” you gently teased. You felt your heart thud a little bit at the sentimental feeling of messing with him.

“You did,” the corners of his mouth turned up. “You did.” He realized he repeated himself, “It, uh, it was a fun match today.”

You nodded in agreement. Another pause in the conversation as he continued to stare at you. You cleared your throat. “You know I saw you have a little trouble looking for the camera today.”

His brows knit in confusion. He did have to turn a bit before he found the camera today but how did you know? They wouldn’t show that on TV, would they?

You chuckled and pulled out the ticket that was still in your pocket and showed it to him. “Courtesy of Hajime.”

And how would you know that his heart swelled at all this new information. How questions and thoughts he had in these past five years were addressed in the last couple of minutes. You finally went to one of his pro games. You knew about his game ritual dedicated to you. You have been watching his games all this time.

You were now here in front of him.

“Have some time to chat?” he asked you. 

There was still something, something big he needed to talk to you about.

taglist:  @daichis-kitty @elianetsantana @rrroadkill @minnieminnie00-got7 @dudejuststop @tsukkisfatsimp @sakusasonlywife @kotarosbabygirl @pnk-milks @misssugarless @emikafyne @lalu-vici @dekuspet @tnu-ree @whorefornoodles @owlnymph @itlivesintheanime @marshieee @admiringlove @800855​ @4ambagelbites​ @luckyvirgo​ @definitely-yours​

^🥺💖 i appreciate yall wow

if you wanna be added to the taglist for the FINAL PART AHH WTH just lmk xx ty for reading heheh

part one // part two // part three // part four // part five

[shoichee]

Hello! Can I perhaps ask for no. 28. “Make me” from your prompt list for my beloved Imayoshi? It's so nice seeing him here on your theme and avatar and that pERFECT url, it feels like I finally found my people.

HELLO HELLO, and YES I WAS SO SURPRISED THAT NO ONE TOOK THIS URL... considering that it was just an alternative spelling of shoichi and its a rlly short handle too mwehe // im sort of a particular person when it comes to how something looks, whether itd be outfits, drawings, coloring, and the UI of a blog, u name it.... i may have spent hours trying to have the perfect colors for this theme PLEASEEEE, but without further ado here is our man, our little shit, Imayoshi

@knb-kreations howdy! another new work posted here!

Imayoshi x Reader

28. “Make me”

Word Count: 2331

prompt list here

»»—————　☼　—————««

Imayoshi doesn’t exactly know how he feels about you.

Scratch that, he does know. He’s quite amused at the shenanigans you pull on others around you, and a lot of times, you actually elicit a few dry laughs out of the guy. Other times though, he’d wish that you would just shut the fuck up, especially when all he hears amidst his studying was your loud “whispering” and “hushed” jokes. How you were always nearby no matter where he is was still a mystery that he casually ponders about from time to time. Perhaps your natural tendency to project your voice creates the illusion that you were near when you really weren’t?

No matter, such trivial thoughts can’t occupy his mind when college entrance exams loom closer. Then again, they weren’t particularly difficult; they were simply a hassle to secure near-perfect scores, especially when his chances of admittance rely critically on how well he does.

“That’s an awful drawing of a samurai,” Susa comments, snapping Imayoshi out of idle thought.

“Ho? Is it really terrible if you were able to tell what it is?” Imayoshi chuckles. “The point of a drawing is to convey the right idea or emotion. It seems that my drawing skills hit a bulls-eye with this sketch, no?” He playfully spins his pencil around, patiently waiting for his reply to goad him.

All Susa does in response is to roll his eyes before he turns his full attention back to his notes. He knows better than to try a comeback against Imayoshi, who can easily make it backfire against the person with a pleasant close-eyed smile. Imayoshi, seeing Susa’s nonverbal resign from engaging further banter, also looks down back to his book of scribbled notes and chicken-scratch drawings before he exhales an inaudible sigh.

School just doesn’t cut out to be mentally stimulating for him. It’s a little too repetitive and mundane for his taste.

“Argh!! Oh no!” your voice rang out, despite your poor attempt to be reasonably quiet. “I forgot applications for the Coca-Cola scholarship are due today!”

Coca-Cola… what?

Everyone looks up to warily eye you, and your few friends, who are currently rushing to pull you down and slap their hands over your mouth to mute you, were panicking at the new attention you managed to garner. Even still, your mind seems more fixated on whatever was on the laptop’s screen, rather than what they were doing to you.

Imayoshi can’t help but stifle his audible mirth from how you manage to change the mood of the entire library within seconds.

“How do you even forget something as important as a huge scholarship like that?” Susa says in dismay. “Makes me kind of wonder how (l/n) would handle life after graduation, to be honest.”

“Well,” Imayoshi begins. “I wouldn’t worry too much. It’s best not to underestimate (l/n)-san. Surely we’ve learned our lesson with Seirin?” He toys with the pencil grip before he sporadically draws some lines loosely resembling another sketch.

“Drawing again?” Susa raises a brow. “Have you even been studying?”

“Well,” he replies. “There’s still plenty of time before exams—months to be exact. Could you even study with the current distractions in here?” At his own words, he nudges his chin in your direction.

“It’s not just any exams though, it’s—”

“Whether they have more importance or not doesn’t really concern me. After all, standardized testing isn’t worth stressing out for when we’ve taken essentially the same thing all our lives.”

“What most are worried about is the content inside the exams, Imayoshi,” he said, carefully treading into dangerous waters with Imayoshi’s tendency to take all replies as mind-game challenges for his own amusement.

“‘If you have been paying attention consistently throughout the year, you wouldn’t be having much trouble…’ that’s what you once oh-so-wisely said to Wakamatsu yesterday, hmm?” His mimicking tone drips a hint of arrogance. “Unless you mean to tell me my ears do not work? But by all means, please feel free to correct me.”

“That’s different,” he sighed, his face clearly evident that he was done with Imayoshi’s shit. “That exam only tested content for the past year, not your entire academic repertoire over the courses of middle and high school.”

“I’d like to think that the logic still applies the same way.”

“Well,” Susa heaves with a languid stretch. “You generally score better on the exams than me, so you’re probably right. Still, don’t neglect your studying.”

“Right, right, Susa-senpai~”

“... Please don’t call me that again.”

“... If you say so,” he said, but his smile blatantly showed his real intentions of never stopping his irritable quips. Susa gets ready to pack up his book bag before he heads out the door with a friendly wave. Imayoshi half-heartedly returns the gesture with a casual wave of his own. He immediately notices you also packed up and about to leave with a worried frown, and of course, while audibly mumbling your concerns and makeshift schedules to accommodate time for last-minute essay writing. By now, all of your friends have left for home.

“Ah, biology lab due next week, kanji worksheets due tomorrow, hmm, um, how would I finish this on time… ah, calculus test is tomorrow too, ah shit… should I ask someone to tutor?—ah, but it’s super last minute, and there’s still that scholarship… argh, fuck!” Your voice peaked in volume at the end, and the librarian immediately shot daggers at you.

“Shhhhh!”

“A-Ah! S-Sorry, sorry!”

Imayoshi was watching you with his chin on his arm propped up on the desk, unable to control the smile that escaped his lips. You really were entertaining to watch, and you never cease to bore him.

He turns away to crack his neck and roll it around before methodically packing up his writing utensils and notebooks. Soft shuffling filled the air as he rearranged the items inside his bag. As he turns to pack the last thing on the table, which happened to be the notebook filled with his idle doodling, his face slightly softens at the drawing he did after the samurai. Yes, the one Susa chastised him for when he could’ve been studying. Yes, perhaps he was right when he was terrible at drawing after all; your panicked face and wild hand gestures didn’t really translate well into paper, and it looked a little too much like a horror comic and less than a sketch of you. Still, he’s oddly proud of it.

Imayoshi promptly pushes the chair in and leaves the library, but when he rounds the corner of the adjacent hallway, he bumps into you.

“Er—hi! I mean, please, uhhh… if it isn’t too much to ask—canyoupleasetutormeforthecalculustesttomorrowbecausemyfinalgradedependsonthat?”

Imayoshi winces at the sheer volume of your voice and plugs his ears in out of habit to block out some of the decibels. Wakamatsu was eerily similar to you in that regard. Only difference between the two of you was that you were deceptively intelligent. Extremely so.

“My, my, if it isn’t (l/n)-senpai!” He fakes a surprised look, earning him an eye roll on your end. “You need someone like me to teach you the works?”

“I—what? We’re literally in the same calc class, Imayoshi,” you retort. “Besides, drop the ‘senpai’ honorific. It feels so slimy when you say it so disingenuously… Aren’t we both 3rd years too?”

“I’m so hurt,” he mocks. “What if I was really genuine with you?”

“Look, right now, no remarks from you, Evil Glasses,” you say. “It’s really, really urgent and I don’t know how to grasp the material for the class lately, plus my essay, ugh…” You rub your fingers against your temples in an attempt to make the stressful headaches disappear while Imayoshi simply watches with his eyes slightly open.

“... You usually do well on all your exams, no? Unless my eyes and memory fail me.” It was true; even though you were as loud-mouthed as Wakamatsu, you would often shock a lot of people when your name always appeared in the higher percentiles of exam results. Apparently most students and teachers associate your rowdy personality with an expected subpar academic performance. He has you to thank for when your score reports always cause reactions of utter disbelief from the teachers. You really do liven up the school and make it a lot more unorthodox.

“I guess…” you mumble. “But I really wanna do especially well for this one because math is my weakest subject, and you always score the highest for these types of exams, so…”

“It may be my best subject,” he says, leaning slightly closer to your face. “But I’m not the one with the highest scores in any math subjects throughout these years, and we both know that quite well, don’t we, (l/n)? Why don’t you come clean about the real reason why you’re here?”

“Oh my literal fuck—Imayoshi, you’re one of the best students in calc right now regardless of exam results,” you petulantly huffed, not backing down from his intimidation. Imayoshi notes your cheeks reddening, and he figured it was either because of the close proximity between your faces or the fact you were frustrated… perhaps both. “And you’re the only one around here on campus who I could ask!”

“Really now,” he chimes, moving closer to whisper in your ear. “Are you sure?” With incoherent stammers, you backed away from him, slapping your hands against both of your ears to protect them.

“W-W-What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Looks like I won this one, (l/n)-san,” he purrs, relishing the fact that only he could render you this quiet. “Ho? What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

“I—Shut up!” you lamely shoot back. “You can just say no if you really don’t wanna do this—urgh, I’m leaving, I’m not gonna waste any more time—”

“How hurtful,” he dryly remarks, standing up straight again after leaning for a quite a while. “It’s almost as if you’re rejecting me~” He knew you would always take his bait and quip back (unlike Susa), regardless of whether or not you tell him that you weren’t going to engage further.

“As if,” you snorted, making another exaggerated eye roll. “You’re the last person who would ever be hurt from this.”

“Dear me!” he exclaims. “Have you ever considered that perhaps I don’t help out people for free? Did you think I would be a gracious, selfless person who would help you like a saint?”

“Okay, fine! Perhaps I didn’t think that far ahead, okay? You just were the first person that came to mind, and I thought asking you wouldn’t hurt.” His smirk widens almost maliciously at your words, lips already opening to deliver another irritating quip before you immediately spoke again to stop him. “Okay, Imayoshi, you little shit, just shut up—I don’t wanna hear anything from your mouth right now.”

“I don’t see any reason why I should listen to you at all,” he muses. “Why don’t you make me?” He has a shit-eating grin plastered across his face, eagerly eyeing your next move, and as he expected, you let out a frustrated noise that prompted passerby students to shoot pointed looks towards the both of you.

What he didn’t expect was for you to take a huge step towards him, unceremoniously pull him down to your level, and press a reverberating smack on his lips. His eyes are immediately blown wide open to look at your embarrassed, but determined face. His fingers unconsciously move to touch his warmed lips.

“... That was quite romantic, wasn’t it, (l/n)?” he dryly says, recovering almost immediately from the shock. All the other students fled from the blatantly bold scene to save face. Not that Imayoshi really cared.

“Okay, you know what? Bye, I’m not gonna play anymore mind games with you,” you grumble. “Essays and studying aren’t gonna be done by themselves—wah!”

Imayoshi gently tugs you back to reciprocate back a kiss, meticulously slipping his hands behind your head and on your waist to accommodate you. Your eyes are completely open from the shock that the Imayoshi Shoichi was actually kissing you. You don’t close your eyes from the sensation, completely entranced when you make eye contact with his half-lidded eyes watching your every reaction closely. The kiss ended all too soon, and Imayoshi separates himself from you, secretly admiring your dazed look.

“That was quite a strong reaction to just a simple kiss.”

“I—that was not just a ‘simple kiss!’”

“Now would you like to tell me the true reason why you approached me?”

“You’re… insinuating that you know something.”

“Well we wouldn’t know unless you come clean,” Imayoshi purrs. “I can sometimes be wrong too.”

“Ugh, what the hell—fine, I am quite enamored by you, and uh, I… find it infuriating to be with you, but it also gives me butterflies… so I thought I could be with you more… if I asked you—don’t get it twisted, though! I still need your help to study!...” He covers his mouth to suppress a laugh at your honesty.

“Was it really so hard to say that in the beginning, (l/n)-san?”

“Okay, that’s it! I’m really, really leaving! Fuck off, Imayoshi, I swear to—”

“Ho? Just a minute, darling~” he tuts, reaching to hold your hand. “Perhaps if you offer more kisses as an incentive, I’d be more inclined to offer my expertise.”

“How quaint,” you dryly reply. “It’s almost as if we’re in a relationship.”

Imayoshi can’t help but bark out a genuine laugh. You even managed to pick up some of his mannerisms so quickly.

“That’s an interesting proposal, (l/n),” he murmurs. “Should we try that?” You tut at him irritatedly as you tug your interlocked hands while speed-walking ahead.

“Hurry up, or I’ll consider breaking up with you right now.”

“Ah ha!~” he chuckles at your attitude. “How mean, (l/n)-san! Too bad that we both know that’s not going to happen anytime soon.”

[getdownkyh]

Extra Credit (m) | Young K

01 . 02 . 03 . 04 . 05 . 06 . 07 . Epilogue

The two seconds pause between the rhythmic knock let him know that it was you. And judging by the time of the day, it was safe for you to assume he was alone, working past the office hour as usual as the end of the semester approached. 

His face lit up seeing you walking in, closing the door securely before walking up towards him, “What you up to?” 

A tired smile graced his face, glasses pushed up as he turned to face his screen, “Work. Same old, same old.” 

Standing behind him, you gave his shoulders a soft squeeze before taking a few steps to his right and pushing yourself up on his desk, swinging your legs as you looked around his room. Swiveling his chair to face you, he took your hand in his, looking at you with pleading eyes. “Kiss me?” 

Giggling, you leaned down and gave him a quick peck. He grunted in response, words laced with complaint, “A proper one. Not like that.” 

Raising a brow, you leaned closer to his face again, eyes studying his features. Your fingers roamed over his shoulders, before moving upwards, ghosting his neck and cradling his face in your palms. 

His fingers found purchase in the ruffle of your blouse, tugging you to close the distance between your lips, as he moved his hungrily over yours, nibbling on your bottom lip. 

You chuckled again as you broke the kiss, putting your hand flat on his sturdy chest, “Okay, that’s enough, go finish your work.” 

When he pulled himself away from you, there was a short moment where you thought, to your own surprise as well, that he was going to resume working. But when he tilted his head to the side slightly, contemplating, you can almost pinpoint the exact moment he decided fuck it, and pushed his chair closer to you, pushing your legs apart and positioning himself between your legs.

Pushing your skirt upwards, letting his fingers stroke the skin of your thighs in the process, he relished in the way your breath hitched slightly. He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, his nose tickling the sensitive skin as he snuggled and rested his head, his cheek pressed into your right thigh.

Instinctively, you let your fingers card through his hair, scratching his scalp gently and feeling him pushing his head deeper into your hand, "No more work?"

He sighed, looking up at you while his finger traced circles into your unoccupied leg, "Too distracted now. I can see up your skirt."

You would hate to admit it, but you felt a fresh wave of arousal pooling between your legs at his words.

He chuckled, words slightly muffled from his cheek being squished by your thigh, "And I can see your arousal soaking through your poor panties."

Pushing his head off of you, you placed your heel on his thigh to push your butt slightly off the table, earning a hiss from him. Your eyes never left his, gaze confident as you dragged the soiled piece of underwear down your legs, before kicking it off onto the floor.

The moment your pussy was bare, he was pushing himself between your legs again, only for you to grab him by his hair, tugging slightly to make him face you, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at you in surprise.

Using your other hand, you started gathering the wetness between your bottom lips and using it to lube your clit as you rubbed circles into it.

His breath was hot on your thigh, as he looked up at you pleadingly, "Let me,"

Ignoring him, you plunged two fingers inside your hole, letting out a whimper at the feeling of the sudden intrusion, face squirming as you pumped your fingers in and out slowly.

The tighter you felt you own walls clamping on your fingers, the tighter your grab on his hair became, pulling out more sighs from him, with him now pressing open mouthed kisses all over your inner thigh, grunting Whys as he watched you.

Pulling your fingers out, you wiped the juices coating them on his cheek, "Just showing you how much better I've gotten since our first time here, Professor."

Hooking his arms under your thighs, he tugged you forward, his face now barely inches from your dripping hole, your fingers letting go of his hair as the tug caused you to place your hands flat on the table to stabilise yourself.

"You had your fun," he nuzzled his nose closer towards you, "Now it's my turn."

The moment his tongue breached your folds, swirling between the wet lips as he collected your arousal, you clamped your hand over your mouth to contain your moans. No matter how much better you claimed you had gotten, nothing beat how good he made you feel.

Just one swipe of his tongue, and you were a trembling mess in his hands.

One arm let go of your thigh as he moved his lips to suck on your reddened bud, fingers moving to spread your folds, allowing the arousal to leak out and onto his desk.

Pushing yourself up with your elbows, you felt your head spin at the sight of him, pupils blown out as he stared at you, his tongue flicking over your clit repetitively. There was a dull ache throbbing in your walls, as your body craved for the pleasure it was used to, the prolonged foreplay making you desperate over the second.

As soon as he saw you open your mouth to speak, he pushed two fingers inside you, causing incoherent sentences to leave your mouth. He chuckled, sending vibrations straight to your bundle of nerves, "Use your words. Be a good student and ask me properly for what you want."

Swallowing thickly, chest heaving, your voice came out in a squeak, "God. Younghyun, stop,"

His reply was an unamused, "Hm? Younghyun?"

Pressing his fingers deeper into you, he wiggled them at a certain angle, rubbing onto that delicious spot inside you, "Address me properly."

Sighing, you bit your lip before blurting out a broken, high pitched, "Professor,"

And in an instance, all forms of pleasure were ripped away from you, with him pulling his fingers out and his lips away from you.

You opened your eyes, staring at him, "W-why did you stop?"

"You told me to." He chuckled.

"No I didn't mean it that way." You flushed, feeling hot and bothered by his teasing.

He shrugged, acting nonchalant.

Furrowing your brows, you sat up, pushing yourself off his desk, stumbling as you tried to stand up, leaning towards him as your fingers made quick work of unbuckling his belt, freeing his erection, drawing out a contented sigh from him in the process.

Moving to straddle him, you grit your teeth as you spoke, "I meant, stop using your fingers, and put your dick in me."

Right when the head of his member met your core, you felt him grip your waist tightly, stopping you from moving. Pressing a kiss to your cheek, he chuckled again, "You're so cute when you're desperate."

Before you could muster a reply, he stood up, kicking his chair backwards and pushing you towards his desk again, the edge digging into the small of your back.

But you could barely focus on the sting as you wrapped your leg around his waist, him chuckling gratefully as he snaked his arm around your middle, before finally pushing his erection into your cunt, both of you moaning at the same time as he bottomed out in one shove.

One hand on his desk, another around his neck, you threw your head back as you basked in the delicious stretch and the drag of his thick girth inside you. Younghyun swore he could count the number of pistoning his hips did on one hand, and your walls were already fluttering close around him.

Teeth grazing your pulse point with your neck bared for him, he chuckled, "Already?"

Incoherent garbles were all he got in response, causing him to pull his head off of your neck to look at your face, which was contorting in pleasure, eyes squeezed shut with tears brimming the corner of your eyes.

"Fuck, you're actually so fucking close."

Kissing your swollen lips, he whispered into your skin, "So good, baby, you're so fucking good, let go for me."

The orgasm hit you hard, as it always did. The jolt of pleasure sending numbness straight down your legs, your body shivering in gratification, held in place by his strong hands as he drink in your blissed out expression.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Broken words were spoken as he reached his own high, tucking his chin into your shoulder as he released with heavy, rhythmic grunts. You rubbed your hands up and down his chest, soothing him down although you yourself could barely feel your legs.

"You okay?" you whispered into his ear.

"Yeah, just give me a second." He laughed.

You stayed in comforting silence for a moment, running your hand up and down his chest and back as your ragged breathings slowed down, feeling his member softening inside you.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" you asked as he pulled out, gently lifting you onto his desk as he wiped the mess between your legs.

"Hm, yea sure?"

"Do you get turned on when you people call you Professor?"

His hand paused their movement as he contemplated his answer, standing up and caging you between his arms, face hovering over yours, "I don't know...try calling me Younghyun?"

Biting your lip as you suppress a giggle, you half whispered, "Younghyun?"

He smiled stupidly seeing the way your lips curved as you said his name, leaning closer until your lips met, "Nah, its just you."

-end

[chocoblep]

#14: Dancing

Forward. Back. Left. He’d done the steps many times now, and with each iteration he grew more sure, more comfortable with the movements. Akira had been at this for hours, and he was tired and hungry, but he was so close to perfection that he could taste it. It had been a long and arduous journey, but Papa had finally let Master Inagawa give Akira a preview of what it would be like to train with him.

Back. Forward. Right. Keeping his feet in a tight area was difficult after training in Kendo, but he made it work; after all, the best samurai were adaptable, and the best shinobi undetectable.

Master Inagawa mirrored his movements, the picture of poise and grace, and he looked down upon Akira with a discerning eye.

One arm sweeping up, and then back down. Tail swishing as he spun on the ball of his foot.

“Good,” his teacher said, moving to his side. “Next time, you will dance with a partner. You will learn to copy movements and affectations.”

“But I thought being a shinobi was about sneaking around and being really fast in a fight,” Akira said with a little frown. “What does dancing have to do with anything?”

“Nothing,” his teacher replied. “And everything. Dancing is a bodily expression, and no matter how well we try, it is very hard to copy the exact motions of someone else. To accomplish this, you train your eyes and your limbs to imitate other things. The pose of a man considering a purchase. The intention of movement of a teahouse server.” His instructor paced a circle around him as he spoke. “Dance teaches us to be acutely aware of our own bodies and the way they move, and how to move them with the sort of precision required to affect a different personality.”

Akira looked up at Master Inagawa, frowning. “So I am learning to copy other people really well?”

The pale Raen looked down at the boy and smiled. “Yes. And by learning how to copy other people really well, you are learning how to sneak around and disappear.”

The boy made a face. “Wait, so you don’t just vanish in a poof of smoke? You’re actually just pretending to be someone else?”

“And if you do it well enough, they never notice you,” the man replied.

Takahane, who had been watching this exchange, smiled. For a boy like his son, the glamorous was attractive, and learning that there was no magic involved in the shinobi’s disappearing act was sure to dissuade him from the art.

Instead, Akira got a big smile on his face. “That’s so cool! You disappear without actually disappearing!”

The shinobi looked to Takahane with an expression on his face that clearly read, I tried to make it as boring and repetitive as possible. Takahane sighed softly, tipping his chin downward in the barest of acknowledging nods. They had lost this battle.

“What else can I learn?” Akira asked insistently.

Master Inagawa laid a hand on the top of the boy’s head. “Soon, my boy. Stay diligent studying the sword, and you will learn all there is to know about the art in time.”

[milkybonya]

hello! smiling anon here :) i had a random idea pop into my head: what about a friends to lovers! chanyeol x reader inspired by his song ssfw? cant wait to see how you’ll do this one :) thank you :)

friends to lovers is a concept that i love :”) i hope you enjoy !

SSFW - Chanyeol

Warnings: some angst/mentions of crying and food

Summary: SSFW by Chanyeol where as the seasons pass, college!Chanyeol realizes he’s falling for his best friend.

Lyrics appear like this throughout the fic

You’re so natural Like the seasons And I’m standing here taking it all in

Like a spring blossom, you’re Deep inside my heart yeah Spreading and taking over babe

You remember the exact moment you met Chanyeol because it was in quite an unconventional way. 

On a spring day, you were passing through the park on your way to your classes. The trees were starting to blossom, their green leaves beginning to take form. The pavement was filled with colourful petals, and as you took a second to admire them, watching them crumple beneath your shoes, something flew by you.

Looking up, you watched as a boy hurried through the park on his skateboard, weaving skillfully in-between the many students who were on their way to class. He wore a baseball cap backwards and his backpack hung on one shoulder.

He looked down to check his phone for a moment and ended up heading straight towards the trash can. You shut your eyes tightly, willing for him to look up before he fell.

A loud crashing sound.

The poor boy was sprawled out on the ground. You were getting closer to him, and noticing that no one had stopped to help him despite everyone staring at him, you walked faster.

Maybe I’ll help him out just this once.

“Are you okay?” you asked him as you stood above him.

He sat up quickly and brushed himself off.

“Of course I’m okay. I was going too fast for my own good,” he chuckled, standing up. He tried to walk, but he was noticeably limping.

“I think you should go to the infirmary,” you told him.

He continued to refuse and resist, but eventually you managed to convince him. The infirmary was far, and the boy who’s name you learned was Chanyeol couldn’t walk at all. So, you had to get him to sit on his skateboard while you pushed it towards campus. It earned the both of you many looks from everyone else, but it turned out to be a funny memory.

Most importantly, that was the day your friendship began.

Well, it was mostly just Chanyeol pestering you at first. 

He’d find you on campus and wouldn’t leave your side until one of you had class.

“My hero!” he yelled from across the hallway. That had become his way of greeting you.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as soon as you turned around.

“Are you going to eat now? Can I join you?” he asked, a smug look on his face.

“You’ll probably still join me even if I say no, but sure,” you said, walking towards the food hall.

When the two of you sat down to eat your food, Chanyeol asked you if you would be free that weekend.

“Yeah, I’m not doing anything. Why?”

“Remember that band you said you liked? They’re having a show nearby this weekend!”

“What? And I didn’t know?” you said, dropping your fork onto your food.

“You’ve been studying so hard, you probably didn’t see their social media posts. We can go together!”

It was at that concert that he felt something for the first time. On the drive to the venue, watching you laugh as you sang along to the stereo, watching the wind hit you through the open window, he felt some sort of... adrenaline? His heart was racing and he felt incredibly happy. 

Even at the venue, he couldn’t focus on the performance properly. His eyes kept coming back to you, and he watched as you danced along to the rhythm of the music.

The two of us are Like spring and summer Blossoming and deepening

Eventually, you and Chanyeol became close. You grew to appreciate his clinginess and his presence. There were many nights where you both pulled all-nighters, stressing over your work. The only comforting thing that you had during those times was each other.

Chanyeol became someone who you would go to if you were feeling sad or happy. You could share anything, and he felt the same with you. 

It didn’t even take that long. All it took was the changing from spring to summer. The weather got warmer, the days longer and the two of you learned to appreciate one another more.

Perhaps the exact moment the two of you felt a shift in your friendship was when you had many personal issues on your plate yet still pulled an all-nighter to study for an exam. You didn’t do well and buckling under the pressure, you broke into tears in the back of the lecture hall.

No one stopped to ask if you were okay. Everyone left and you were still there.

But somehow, Chanyeol found you. He sat beside you and with his warm hands, gently moved your head onto his shoulder. You cried for a whole hour in that position without saying anything. Although Chanyeol’s shirt was stained with your tears, he didn’t say a word.

“Wanna go out for coffee?” he asked, a smile smile on his face.

At that moment, you realized that Chanyeol was truly your friend. Without even having to know why you were crying, he let you cry. You felt incredibly thankful for him.

We don’t change our minds When the leaves fall I want to hold you closer to chase away the cold This season is already half gone Growing closer to you Even through the rain the two of us Kept dry because our love

After spending the summer together working the same summer job, the leaves began to fall from the trees and you found yourself pulling your coat around you more tightly.

Chanyeol’s heart ached.

When he saw you on that first day of classes resuming, running towards him so you could greet him, his heart ached in the best way possible. The world slowed and all he could see was you. His heart was beating quickly and... he really wanted to wrap his arms around you and hold you close.

He shrugged it off, but any time he saw anyone acting a little too friendly or flirty with you, he would feel sad. He would check his phone throughout the day to see if you had messaged him.

Yes, he was in love.

It was a fact that slowly grew on him throughout the colder season.

Somewhere between fall and winter, he confessed to you in the middle of the park where you first met. The snow started to fall and he held your cold hands in his.

Looking right into your eyes, he smiled softly and said, “[y/n], this is kind of random, but I know now that I really like you.”

His heart was pounding and somehow in the cold, he was sweating beneath his three layers. To you though, he looked incredibly confident, and his out of the blue confession made your heart stop.

From that day on, the two of you became one, withstanding the difficulties of university through your love for one another. When the two of you weren’t busy, or even when you were, you would make time to go on little dates. Coffee shops, small restaurants, malls, whatever it was, spending time in each other’s presence was like a healing experience.

On the few nights that you spent together, Chanyeol felt most at peace when he was holding you in his strong arms. Your head pressed right against his chest with the covers wrapped loosely around you both - that was his home. He’d look down so he could press his lips to your forehead, and the kiss would linger for long, but there was no such thing as too long.

When we turn a page on the calendar Our love more and more Flourishes You mean the world to me When all four seasons Pass by one by one Our love continues to grow I’m fallin’ in love with you

Your relationship with Chanyeol was one where you had your freedom and independence, but you were also tightly interlocked with him. The two of you lead career-driven lives but also had one another.

Sometimes, it was hard to not see one another when things got busy, but this only made the two of you love one another even more. Looking forward to seeing each other again after longer periods of not being able to gave you a lot of hope.

You never needed to do anything special when you were together. Just seeing Chanyeol and holding his hand was more than enough. So when he’d kiss you, your heart would burst into a million butterflies because his lips would always meet yours so lovingly.

The seasons passing felt repetitive, but your love was growing exponentially. 

On a spring day, you were passing through the park on your way to campus. You had finished your studies a long time ago, but there were some errands that you had to run there. 

“Meet me at the park by the campus at 1!” you had told Chanyeol on the phone. He had asked you if you were free today, and you had gladly agreed to see him.

When you were walking back, there he was, baseball cap on backwards, sitting on his scratched up skateboard and flashing a wonky smile your way.

“What are you doing, you silly thing,” you said, lightly punching his shoulder.

“Just waiting for you under these pretty trees,” he said, looking up.

“Okay, but why are you wearing those clothes?” you asked him, suppressing your laughter.

“Actually,” he said, pulling something out of the pocket of his zip up sweater. “I’ve got something here.”

A sleek, blue box appeared in his hand. Chanyeol was slightly blushing. You could only guess what was going on.

He opened it, revealing a ring inside.

“Do you want to marry me?” he asked, still sitting on his skateboard.

The sight of him proposing while dressed and sitting like that made you laugh. You ruffled his hair and bent down to kiss his cheek, which made him blush even more.

“I’d gladly do so,” you replied, helping him up. He slipped the ring on your finger and then held your hand.

“So... wanna grab coffee or something?”

[mewsimps]

a/n: i was rewatching jujutsu and thought...sukuna using u in an alleyway? wow. ꒰๑ ᷄ω ᷅꒱ this one i kinda skimmed through with editing so...whoops ehehe ⸜( ⌓̈ )⸝

t/w: choking, creampie, noncon !

you wouldn't have been in this situation if you had just stayed home.

you wouldn't have been in this situation if you didn't take a short cut between buildings.

you wouldn't have been in this situation if you were smart.

these thoughts and more are what repeated vividly through your head, making you wince from their brightness.

here you were, tits and head pressed against the cold brick wall, arms folded behind your back, with a knee shoved up into your cunt. the whole action had went by so quickly. the last thing you remember before having your head slammed against the wall was walking through an alleyway to cross to the other road without having to walk around the block. you knew that it was a sketchy thing to do, but what would be the luck of something actually happening to you? you're luck couldn't be bad enough for someone to come up on you and take advantage of you, right?

well, here you were in that exact situation you didn't suspect happening. the situation you took lightly.

it was your fault.

after holding you still for a bit, the presence leans into your ear

"what's a little thing like you doing out so late..?"

the masculine and deep voice sends twitches to your cunny. there was no way that in a scary situation like this, you were reacting in this way.

you figured he was expecting a response, because he lifts and slams your head back into the wall.

"well?"

you manager to muster out some words, hoping it suffices. a low noise of understanding rumbles through him. you get flipped around, and are now facing your perpetrator. his hand moves to your neck and adds pressure, and his knee places itself back into your cunt.

broad and bare shoulders as well as a chest that looks like it was chiseled out of wood hold up a strong neck, and atop it sits a head with a strong jaw. you feel your pulse in your temples as you study the large man more. it seems that he has pinkish toned hair with an undercut, and weird markings on his face and body.

before you could asses him any further, he rips off your bottoms, snagging you panties along with it. there was no way this was actually happening. an hour ago you left your house. just 20 minutes ago you were crossing the street. and now you were here. about to get fucked raw and unprepared in a dirty alleyway. there was no way.

you let out a whimper, realizing that this was the situation you were in now. he simply laughs at you. what's a whimper gonna save you from. you squirm under his grip, attempting to close your thighs together tightly in hopes of protecting yourself. like that would do anything.

he uses his knee to easily spread your legs apart, and use his free hand to pull out his cock. you didn't dare to look, and it's not like you could with your neck held hostage by a large hand. you were so scared. your legs trembled as you attempted to prepare yourself, if that was even possible.

he shoves his head into your slit, rubbing it up and down. it's so big, there's no way that it would fit in you.

he slowly starts to shove himself inside of you, keeping his hand around your neck. he gets maybe an inch or so in before he snaps his hips forward, shoving in 4 more inches or so.

you feel your poor little cunt stretch around him, you feel like you're gonna tear. it hurts so bad. it burns. it stings. like he cares. right now you're only purpose is to be his hole. that's all you are.

you hear as he groans, leaning his head back as he pushes even deeper into you. all you can do is gasp and cry out, clawing at his hand around your neck. you feel so full, so stretched out.

when he bottoms out, you swear you can feel him in your stomach. he releases your neck and lets you fall onto his chest. you could try and get away, but he would probably catch you and do horrible things to you. more horrible than what's happening right now.

he grabs onto your hips, bruising your soft skin with his large and rough hands. he starts to effortlessly move you up and down, snapping his hips forward for even more friction and movement. you're just a cocksleeve for him. he doesn't care how you feel, he's just using you to make himself feel good. the massive tip of his cock continues to ram into your cervix, clearly filling you up too much.

your cunt still isn't used to his size, so every time he slams back into you a cry is forced out of you. all you can do is wrap your arms around his shoulders for support, resting your head on his chest. there's nothing you can do but take it.

lewd noises echo in the alleyway from his cock ramming into your cunny. you feel as he bites down onto your shoulder and rams into you harder and faster, his muscles rippling under his skin as he moves. the noises of skin slapping and squelching continues.

you feel his big cock twitch inside of you, and you hear as his groans become more repetitive and louder. was he close to-

you feel hot fluids fill your cunt, seeping down your thighs and legs. he pulls out of you and turns you around, pressing your face back into the wall and repositioning himself.

this was gonna be so painful.

[motherofoliver]

A Fire Reborn: Chapter 1

(AO3)

Summary: Shouto rejects Momo despite liking her, thinking it would be best for her, but after a close brush with death and Momo losing her memory, he decides to makes amends and try to be closer to her.

Word Count: 1,851

Notes: This was based on a headcanon and my first BNHA fic and I also abandoned it during some difficult time but I do plan to finish it. I finally got it added back to my AO3 account.

*****

Was it possible to feel both happy and terrified at the same time? It had to be because his heart was being twisted and torn in two different directions right now.

It was night by the lily pond, and there was a summer breeze that kept moving Momo’s bangs in front of her eyes so she kept tucking it behind her ear. Shouto focused all his attention on that repetitive movement so he could distract himself from the words she was saying to him.

She had asked to speak to him privately so they came here where no one could hear them. She looked nervous and kept fidgeting and twirling the belt of her jacket but eventually looked up at him with those deep onyx eyes and directly told him that she liked him, more than just a friend. The unexpected admission sent him reeling though he did his best to conceal the reaction. More things were said after but he didn’t really hear them because he was mesmerized by her blushing cheeks and the soft movements of her full lips. He was overcome with an overpowering desire to kiss her but he stopped himself quickly.

What makes you think you deserve to kiss her?

He would be lying if he said he didn’t like her too, he had since the first time they were paired up together and he witnessed her brilliance first hand, his admiration growing every time he saw how calmly and intelligently she would act under pressure, how kind and caring she was towards her friends, how considerate she was of everyone’s feelings, until his admiration blossomed into something that was a little more than just that. He found himself smiling every time she got excited over something and the bubbly side of her would surface, or when she was studying another book of hers, her brows furrowing a little while concentrating.

It would also be a lie to say that he didn’t imagine this exact same situation a thousand times before in different settings. Sometimes he would confess, sometimes she would, sometimes one of their classmates would spill the beans, but it always ended with him taking her into his arms and kissing her. He would then invite her to a place that offered good cold soba or whatever food she liked and they would spend the evening talking and really getting to know each other. The image in his head invoked a sense of warmth that spread over his body whenever he entertained those fantasies.

But right now, the image of the flowers, the ones Fuyumi told him his dad left for his mom in her room, kept flashing in his mind like an alarm and the old feeling of nausea crept up again and filled his throat, rendering him cold and mute. Shouto wanted to believe he was nothing like father but those flowers were a cruel reminder of what he could be.

His father was once kind, or at least pretended to be, and he was obviously attentive enough, but he still managed to turn into a fiery monster in human form. What’s preventing Shouto from becoming the same? As if half his body didn’t serve as enough of a reminder to their shared DNA, he shared his ambition and drive too. No matter how hard he tried to run from his past, there was no escape, because it was engraved in every cell of his body and advertised to the world by that scar on his eye.

Momo was too good and the thought of her ending up isolated in a hospital one day like his mother made bile rise up even higher in his throat. He liked her too much to put her through such a thing, he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t let her throw away her life, her kindness, her love, for someone who might bring her pain and ruin. He knew he was nothing like that now but how could he guarantee he would never become like his father? There was no way to be sure.

It took him a few moments to gather the courage to utter his next few words but before he opened his mouth, he allowed his mind to wander and conjure up an alternate reality. One where he really takes her into his arms and kisses her, he would inhale her scent and commit it to memory, maybe she would put her arms around him and bury her face in the crook of his neck and they could spend a few minutes like that till the weather got too cold and they would have to go inside. Perhaps he can get her some hot chocolate and they could sit alone somewhere where she could lean on his shoulder till it was bedtime, then they would go their rooms but not before one final kiss.

“Thank you for sharing your feelings with me” his usual nonchalant voice was low “But I’m afraid I don’t feel the same” his face betrayed nothing but he had to swallow a hard lump. The smile on Momo’s face fell and she could only let out a defeated “oh”. The small blush in her cheeks quickly took over all of her face and neck, clearly embarrassed, as she started apologizing profusely “I’m really sorry for putting you on the spot like this, I’m really sorry. Ahh, this is really awkward” she laughed nervously, tears filling her eyes.

“It’s alright, nothing to apologize for, I hope you’ll have a better chance with someone else” he allowed the words to exit his mouth hurriedly while turning around to head inside, not daring to look back at the sight of Momo for fear it would break him. He moved as fast as he could without jogging but he still caught a glimpse of some of the girls of his class behind the wall fence, they were starting to move towards Momo but Jirou was glaring at him, she flipped him off before joining her friends.

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should turn back. He said he didn’t want to hurt her but the look on her face just now showed he failed. Maybe he should go and tell her he was joking or something (Jirou would actually punch him for that though). Shouto felt his neck constrict as a weighty chill took hold of his body, his hands resisting the urge to tremble as he could feel himself losing grip of his emotions. Even when he was trying not to hurt someone he loved, he couldn't help but be like him .

He forced his body to turn away from the pond, knowing those thoughts were just his way of allowing himself to slip. She’ll get over this quickly, she had all her friend to support her but if he was with her, she would hurt for a long time. One swift blow was the smart solution.

It’s for the best. He kept repeating it in his head like a mantra, hoping it will dull the ache in his chest. He breathed a sigh of relief the second he shut his room’s door behind him and sunk to the floor, allowing himself to let out the tears he’s been holding. It was fine, it was fine, he  couldn’t let himself falter over something he knew was the right choice, and however he felt now was a momentary inconvenience at the most. It was fine, it would be fine.

He never thought the right choice would be so painful to make.

*****

He’s not sure who told him the news, or how he got into the car going to the hospital with some of his classmates, or how he found his way to the waiting area in the hospital. Everything around him had blurred into dull colors and distant sounds, locking him in a trance  Momo was injured in a fight with some villain while she was out with some of the girls. She was in the hospital and he knew nothing besides that it was a severe injury.

Everyone went inside to check on her but he stayed behind. He didn’t want to face her. Did she get injured because of him? He knew how anxious she can get, did that affect her ability to fight? Was it the reason the villain got a chance to injure her?

No, Momo was a strong fighter, smart and capable under pressure, she wouldn’t let her feelings get involved, not after all the progress she’s made with her quirk. But still, he couldn’t help but blame himself for rejecting her the night before. He felt as if a fiery grip took hold of his heart and squeezed hard till he was out of breath.

He could’ve lost her today. He could’ve lost her and her tear-filled eyes would have been the last thing he remembers of her. Telling her he didn’t care for her would have been the last thing she heard him say. The panic that rippled through him made his breath rapid and shallow.

How cruel could he be? How could he let his fear of the future to take over and hurt someone he cared about? He was so worried he might turn into his father and hurt her in the future that he allowed himself to hurt her now. He looked at his hands and they were shaking, he couldn’t do this again. He couldn’t hurt her again, not now and not in the future. He couldn’t let their last encounter be the last one.

He won’t let himself turn into his father, he would work to become a man worthy enough of being with her, and he would never abandon her again. The thought filled him with enough drive to go to her room and tell her everything, no more worrying about what he could be in the future, he's in charge of his destiny and he won't let himself turn into a monster. His classmates were in the next room visiting Jirou who was also inured, and Momo was sitting in her bed, staring out the window. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Her face turned to him, and besides a small scratch on her cheek and a bandage around her head, she looked the same as she always did. She smiled at him and there was no hint of malice or anger in that familiar smile. Could she have forgiven him already for what he’s done?

“Thanks for visiting” she welcomed with a courteous albeit tired tone “Are you also from UA?”

The question made Shouto double back for a moment, why would she even ask that? Is she pretending she doesn’t know him? Momo was too mature for that. A sense of foreboding was building up in the back of his head like a glass vase wobbling off the table.

“I’m sorry, I was told I’ve forgotten most the people I know because of the injury. Do you mind telling me who you are?”

In the distance, Shouto could hear a crash.

[solalunar-eclipse]

Scars You Can’t See - Chapter 6

Chapter title: Tip of the iceberg

Word count: about 4300 words

WARNING: This chapter contains descriptions of blood and violence.

Author’s Note: I must admit, while I said a couple of chapters ago that this was inspired by Mission:Impossible, that’s by no means the only inspiration for this fic.

First | Previous | Next

...

It was the next day after the heist, and the whole team was exhausted. Still, they had to remain on the run, and they all knew that there was still work left to do.

The three had decided to head into the sprawling city of Westopolis. It was a thriving seaside metropolitan area with a big name for tourism- a good place to hide out among the crowds.

They ended up renting a small, lower-level room in a towering hotel made almost entirely out of glass and steel. The receptionist was very reluctant to hand over the keys, clearly expecting Rouge in particular to trash the room and break all the furniture.

“Miss...Ruby, was it?” he asked, arching an eyebrow condescendingly. “I suppose you may stay here, though you must pay for any...damages incurred.”

“Absolutely.” she replied, without the slightest hesitation. Turning on her heel, she walked off with Shadow and Omega in tow, leaving one immensely surprised employee in her wake.

Their room was decently clean and nicely furnished, albeit a little plain and without the excellent views those on the higher floors would receive. Rouge left shortly afterwards to go find a VHS player, leaving the other two alone in the room. Omega remained standing and attempted to curb his impulse to break something simply to spite the receptionist. They didn’t have an unlimited supply of money, after all.

Meanwhile, Shadow simply slumped onto the bed and glowered at the wall. The E-series robot, after a minute of studying him, decided that he was likely tired from the mission yesterday, as well as highly apprehensive about what he would have to do soon. 

Omega did not normally give a second thought to the emotional state of most organic life-forms. The large majority of people, to him, were mostly irritating but otherwise of little concern or importance. He remained indifferent to- if slightly perplexed by- their hormonal imbalances and the ‘feelings’ that they produced. It was simply foolish to be ruled by something as fickle as your emotions. (He was aware that he had acted in a manner deemed irrational in the past, but this was due to his programmed goals, not a spur-of-the-moment sensation.)

Shadow was an exception to this rule. Omega viewed him as a person who had fought by his side many a time with impressive skill. Now, the awareness that the hybrid was reduced to a weakened mess simply by the constraints of his organic body was...strange. Omega found that he disliked seeing a talented fighter being laid so low by something as fickle as a few chemically induced sensations.

While the robot would never admit it out loud, Rouge and Shadow were people whom he would defend from any danger or displeasure, no matter what. Although most organics could handle the world just fine on their own, he had decided, these two in particular were talented enough (and their company was enjoyable enough) that he would punch anyone and anything who dared to harm them. And then fire a few missiles at the offending thing for good measure.

This thought process, he decided, explained why he sat down on the bed and proceeded to pick up the dejected hedgehog as though he weighed next to nothing.

“Hey- Omega! Put me down!” Shadow shouted, flailing in surprise and embarrassment as he was lifted into the robot’s arms. He made several grumbling noises upon realizing he was trapped, but ceased the majority of his movements.

“You are still not acting like...you.” Omega said, looking at Shadow thoughtfully. “We are currently attempting to remedy the issue, but it appears that this is more of a long-term solution. What would be an acceptable short-term solution?”

The hybrid rolled his eyes. “There is no ‘short term solution’, Omega. Running from the most dangerous law enforcement in the country tends to make people a little tired. There’s no need to search for a solution, anyway. I am perfectly capable of dealing with this on my own.”

Omega considered how best to proceed. Despite Shadow’s protests, he clearly required aid. And he hadn’t missed the hybrid’s refusal to admit to the effects of his past on his current state. He was never very good at dealing with emotions or stubbornness- that was more Rouge’s strong suit- but Rouge wasn’t here. And he was.

He had been told before that physical contact was often pleasant for organics, when initiated with people that they trusted. And Shadow trusted him, correct?

Thinking for a moment longer, Omega chose to touch the hybrid’s quills in a calming manner. He did so cautiously, ensuring that his sharp fingers would not cause any unwanted harm. Shadow was too caught off guard to protest, his eyes closing within moments as he resigned himself to being pet. As the mechanical creation continued in his repetitive motions, he noticed a quiet noise emanating from somewhere in the room.

Further examination revealed that Shadow was the source of the noise, and that he was purring.

It wasn’t much, just a little rumble in his chest, but something about the indescribable noise made Omega tighten his grip slightly on the small (oh so very small) hedgehog. Despite Shadow’s incredible prowess in battle, he was still reminded in this moment of just how fragile and vulnerable even the most powerful organics were.

Embarrassingly enough, this was when Rouge decided to fling open the door. Shadow snapped out of the daze Omega’s attention had put him in and squirmed as he tried to escape the steel trap that the robot’s arms had created. His effort was too little, too late, however, as Rouge squealed upon seeing the two ‘bonding’. “Awww! You guys! This is so sweet! I swear, I’m getting cavities just by being in the same room as you two.”

Omega glowered at her. “This is not ‘sweet’. I am attempting to…” He trailed off as he realized that what he had been doing did, unfortunately, fall into the category of cute things. “...fine. I was merely aiding Shadow in his moment of emotional distress. There is no need to make such loud shrieking sounds.”

“I’m fine.” the hybrid grumbled sulkily. “Stop worrying about me.”

Rouge shook her head. “Hon, we’re never going to stop worrying about you. That’s pretty much what being friends is about. We care about how you’re feeling.” She tried to wrap her arms around both Shadow and Omega, but resigned herself to the fact that she didn’t by any means have long enough arms for that. Instead, she worked her way into Omega’s hold, smiling warmly at the two of them. “Hugs are good for everyone.” she declared. “That’s just a fact.”

Shadow allowed himself to smile, just a little. “I...appreciate you both doing this for me.” he said quietly.

The E-series robot watched this interaction with a certain amount of...he wasn’t sure what this was called, actually. He was...pleased? Yes, he was pleased to see his two favorite people getting along.

He decided to hold them a little longer as a result.

Rouge sighed after a minute, though, resigned to what came next. “I guess we’ll have to get to the difficult part eventually.” She looked over at the VHS player, before pulling the box of tapes out. “Which day was it again?”

Shadow pointed at a cassette. “That one.” he muttered, staring down at the bedspread.

“Can you not remain in an adjacent room or go somewhere else for the duration of this video?” Omega asked him.

The hedgehog shook his head. “No. No, if we’re putting this out there, I want to know what it looks like.”

“You don’t have to prove anything to us, hon…” Rouge reminded him.

“I need to prove it to myself.” he declared, an air of finality to his words.

Omega stood and plugged the player into the TV set, before putting the tape in. He began to set up the screen, and it seemed to take an eternity before everything was ready to go. Rouge grabbed Shadow’s hand and squeezed it tightly. The robot, on returning to the bed, took his other hand. He took a deep breath. 

“Do it.”

Omega pressed play.

...

The tape shows a grid of all the security cameras throughout Space Colony ARK. The footage is slightly grainy, but the three can make out vaguely distinguishing features on all of the people. 

Omega fast-forwards the video until the moment that the first G.U.N. soldier appears. Shadow holds both their hands tighter.

They watch as the soldiers begin to move through the space station. At first, they don’t cause much alarm- the space colony was funded by G.U.N., after all. Their leader and a couple of others enter the main laboratory and speak to the scientists. After a minute, an alarm goes off.

One of the soldiers fires on the scientist who triggered it, and he sinks to the floor, red pooling around him. All of the other researchers freeze.

Several screens away, a small hedgehog and his sister begin to run.

The space station itself is against them. They were sitting and stargazing on the exact opposite side of the structure from the escape pods. The two have to rush through an endless maze of corridors, avoiding the soldiers throughout it all.

The soldiers are now firing indiscriminately on civilians and government scientists alike, as they are blocking the halls and the soldiers are desperate and violent. The people are only unintentionally in the way, of course- they’re simply fleeing the destruction. None of the researchers knows where Project:Shadow is right now, and the soldiers are frustrated. Every second that slips by is one where they don’t have what they came for.

Clearly, they didn’t come into this situation looking for a peaceful outcome.

Meanwhile, the blond-haired human pauses to catch her breath. She is very sick, after all, and has not run much in her lifetime. The hedgehog looks worried, but remains by her side. He is partly fearful due to her health, after all- and he would never leave her side in such a dangerous situation.

He startles at the first sound of gunshots and begs her to keep moving.Thankfully, she gains a second wind from the adrenaline and they continue to run. Despite the fact that the hedgehog is skating, pulling her along, they are not moving very fast. Not fast enough.

Behind them, the carnage continues.

On the bed, Shadow is crying silently. Rewatching the destruction of his childhood home breaks his heart, and both of his friends can see it. He looks at the desperate hope in the eyes of the hedgehog on the screen (who isn’t that much younger but at the same time so different) and knows what comes next. 

He spots an elderly scientist with an instantly recognizable moustache, handcuffed to a railing. The man is one of the few survivors of the massacre. He begs the soldiers to spare his daughter’s life, to bring her back safely. Shadow is startled to hear, among the words, a plea to please remove Project:Shadow alive. To not kill him.

The scientist looks desperate and tells the soldiers that he loves his children. He tells them that he needs to see them again.

His children. Plural.

The sound of crying rings out across the hotel room.

The human girl convinces the hedgehog to get in the escape pod first. He can’t work the controls because he’s a little too short- ‘fun-sized’, she calls it. Besides, it’ll make her feel better. He could never argue with that.

The soldiers arrive. The girl looks back and forth between the pod and the controls. Shadow pinpoints the exact moment, this time, when her expression changes from fearful to resigned. He wishes he hadn’t eaten this morning- his breakfast won’t sit still.

Shadow screams “No!!” as she lunges for the control panel, the word ripping raw from his throat as though he can somehow save her if he just shouts loud enough. He chokes as he hears the gunshots, as he sees her fall. He sees himself clawing at the glass, screaming and crying unintelligible words as Maria speaks her dying wish.

He barely even sees the pod eject, his eyes blurred with tears. Omega pauses the video.

...

Rouge pulls Shadow into her arms. He’s shaking and barely seems to be aware of what’s going on, silent tears trickling down his face as he sits limply in her embrace. She feels him gasping for breath- he can’t quite seem to get the air he needs.

“Breathe, Shadow.” she murmured. “I’m here, I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay, I promise, but all you have to do is breathe.”

He reached out and held her back tightly, clinging to her with enough force to drive some of the air out of her own lungs.

“I’m here for you, Shadow.” Rouge whispered. “Just let me know what you need when you can.”

“I will not go anywhere either.” Omega said, turning his volume down. “You will be safe here with us.”

Shadow gasped for breath one last time before whispering quietly, “You promise?”

“Of course you are.” Rouge rubbed circles on his back comfortingly. “We’ll always watch out for you.”

“Absolutely.” Omega added.

After another few minutes, Shadow began to relax a little, but he made no move to pull back from the bat. “Sorry…” he muttered.

“No, don’t apologize.” Rouge said, her voice strong and warm. “None of this is your fault. None of it. I promise.”

“I shouldn’t be reacting like this.” he growled.

Omega placed a hand on his back. “It is completely normal to react in such a way to traumatic experiences, as a matter of fact- and that is the truth.”

“You’ve seen it now, hon. We’re going to watch the rest of the video, but you just turn your back and lie down, okay?” Rouge offered.

“Okay…” Shadow sighed, too exhausted to fight- and he didn’t really want to, anyway. Both of his friends kept their hands on him as he turned around, and his face relaxed more as he closed his eyes, exhausted from his panic.

“I will mute the sound.” Omega informed him.

…

Mostly, the rest of the video was just filming the cleanup and shutdown of Space Colony ARK. Eventually, once the crews started getting to the lower levels, the cameras were shut down. It seemed that G.U.N. didn’t want anybody to know what happened next.

But there were still five full minutes left of film…

Omega and Rouge shared a look. The bat turned to Shadow and told him that the tape was going to run longer than expected. They’d watch it all the way to the end, even if it was just a black screen.

It turned out that it wasn’t blank at all.

When the camera opened with a new security camera view, Rouge grew tense. 

The date says it’s about ten years ago. It’s dark out. The footage shows G.U.N. soldiers standing in the shadows, watching a gathering of people. It looks like someone’s speaking to them from a stage. One of the soldiers gives a signal to the others.

They charge into the crowd without warning. People begin to shout and run as the soldiers move through the crowd, stunning people with batons and taking prisoners left and right.

Amidst the chaos, the speaker begins to film the event. She is grabbed from behind by two soldiers while a third points a gun at her. She appears to talk to them, panic evident in her eyes. The third soldier snatches her phone with one hand and steps on it before shooting it twice. The speaker doesn’t look to be above twenty.

She looks scared. She doesn’t look like a criminal. She looks like an ordinary person.

The tape ends there.

Nobody speaks.

…

“What happened?” Shadow asks, turning over just as Omega switches off the TV. “What is it?”

“I’d have to watch it with the sound on to be sure-” Rouge swallows thickly at the idea- “but it looks like G.U.N. attacked a bunch of innocent citizens.”

Shadow looks shocked. “I thought that was-!”

“Illegal.” Omega says flatly. “That is illegal...and it goes against everything G.U.N. is supposed to stand for.”

“I...I’m going to watch it again.” Rouge said. “I have to know. Shadow, go for a walk, okay?”

He leaves without question.

They watch it again.

Once they’re done, Omega watches as Rouge sits for a minute to process the film, before she rewinds the tape. Squinting at the screen for a moment, she sags slightly when she finds what she was looking for. 

The bat walks into the hallway and sees Shadow standing at the end of it, looking out the window. The sunlight frames his strong stance and alert ears. Anyone else would say he looks powerful. 

Rouge thinks he looks apprehensive.

“Shadow?” she calls, walking over to him. A twitch of his ear signals his acknowledgement. “There’s more.”

“What is it.” he responds, his voice monotone.

“This took place in Empire City. On United Federation soil. With ordinary people talking about nothing but their ideals. I suspected it the last time, but I had to rewatch it- there’s a couple of background clues in there.” Rouge’s voice shakes.

Shadow shakes his head. 

“She was just a girl, Shadow.”

Suddenly, his back straightens. “She?”

Rouge realizes she hadn’t told him this before. “There was a girl, speaking to the crowd. She was a teenager, it looks like.”

Shadow drags her back into the room. He stands there for a solid minute, trying to control his breathing, but has to give up and grabs a pillow, digging his gloved hands into it. He looks like he’s on the verge of tears again. “Is she alive? Did they kill another granddaughter? Another sister, did they-”

“I don’t think she’s dead. There would’ve been a lot of protest if that happened, and the film’s recent enough for me to have heard of it.” the bat said.

“We don’t know that for sure. Rouge, we can’t stop here. Not now. Not when there’s more.”

She exhaled heavily. “I agree. Completely.”

“As do I.” Omega said. 

Rouge groaned. “People get away with something awful once and they think they’re invincible. Ugh.”

“Not anymore.” Shadow hissed. 

The hybrid realized something, his eyes widening slightly. “Omega. Go call Sonic or Tails. Now.”

Omega came to the same conclusion as him immediately. Without comment, he left the room and descended the stairs to the ground floor. If G.U.N. had visited the two...with that kind of reputation…

He managed to find a public phone in a store a couple of blocks away and dialed Tails’s number.

“Hi! This is Tails speaking!” 

“This is E-123 Omega.”

“Omega!?” Tails gasped. The next sentence sounded muffled, as though the microphone was being covered. “Sonic! Omega’s on the phone!”

The robot heard a faint shriek of “What?!” before Tails came back on the line.

“Has G.U.N. visited you at all?” Omega asked, keeping his voice absolutely level. No need to frighten the fox if nothing had happened.

“Actually...yeah.” Tails said, sounding a little tentative. “They didn’t hurt us, but I did have to rescue Sonic.” He proceeded to recount the entire event, from the agents’ arrival to their (reluctant) departure. He also updated Omega on the latest news stories, which were predictable, but still irritating.

The robot did not like Tails’s story though. Not the news, not the agents, and especially not the part with the Taser. However, as much as he would like to fire lots of explosives at all of G.U.N., he decided that it would be best to update the two on his news. “We have found the security files from Space Colony ARK. They prove beyond all doubt that G.U.N. killed many of the inhabitants of said space colony in cold blood, including one Maria Robotnik.”

“That’s great!” Tails exclaimed, before realizing what he’d said. “Uh...relatively speaking.”

“However, one of these files contained excess information. We do not know whether this was on purpose or by accident, but either way, they show soldiers of G.U.N. taking multiple people into custody without giving any reason for their actions. When asked why they were doing this, they gave no reply. Further investigation is necessary, but it seems that they treated ordinary people like enemies of the state. And this was done while the current commander was in charge, according to the date on the security camera files.”

Omega heard Sonic start shouting unintelligibly in the background. Tails responded to him once or twice with a “Yeah” or “Mm-hm”, but suddenly called, “Sonic! Be careful, you’ll break something if you keep up like that!”

The fox turned his attention back to his slightly confused audience. “Sorry, he’s angry and just like roundhouse kicking the air and stuff. Though I think he’d rather be smacking around G.U.N. robots- no offense, by the way.”

“None taken. I am fully aware of my superior status regarding those mindless drones.” Omega scoffed.

“Yo Omega!” he heard Sonic shout from the background. “How’s Shadow doing? Is he there?”

Tails sighed in a rush of static. “Sorry, he’s...kind of rushing around right now so he’s forgetting his manners and isn’t coming to the phone himself, but that’s okay, I guess.”

Omega would have smirked, had he been built with the necessary components to do so. As it was, he simply answered, “Shadow is not here. He has been...struggling with the combined knowledge that G.U.N. is even worse than we realized and rewatching his sister’s death. In respect to his privacy, I will not say more.”

Tails relayed this information over to Sonic, who sounded sad. “Oh...aw, man. Hey, can you tell Omega to let him know I miss him?”

The fox seemed upset by this news at first, but then he giggled. “Did you hear that, Omega? Sonic really misses Shadow and he wants him to know, isn’t that cute?”

“Absolutely.” the robot agreed, fully aware of what Tails was trying to do. 

About two milliseconds later, Sonic roared, “I meant RACING him, Tails! Stop ASSUMING THINGS!!”

Tails laughed again, the wickedness of it obvious this time. Suddenly, Omega heard a loud clatter, and then the crackle of someone picking up the phone. “Sorry, Omega,” Sonic hissed into the speaker, “It’s been nice talking but I have a fox to launch into the sun. Gottagobye!”

Omega walked back to the hotel, pleased that Tails and Sonic seemed to be doing alright. (He wasn’t as worried about Knuckles, he was basically unreachable by anyone. The echidna would be fine.)

When the robot neared his hotel room, he heard loud voices. It seemed that Rouge and Shadow were participating in something he remembered was called ‘venting’, in which they were able to express their feelings without producing any significant action plans. He believed that its purpose was to release emotional tension, and it was sometimes good for them. It was also a very fun activity when he was the one allowed to rant.

“I know, right?! I mean- who do they even- oh, hi Omega!” Rouge exclaimed when he returned, smoothing down her hair from its slightly messy state.

“Greetings. I have learned Tails and Sonic are both alive, healthy, and generally safe. Shadow, Sonic wished for me to inform you that he misses you and would like to race you again at some point in the future.”

Shadow smiled faintly. “That’s nice to hear.”

“I know, right?” Rouge sighed. “Finally, some good news.”

“Although.” Omega added.

Rouge covered Shadow’s ears and then proceeded to say a series of very rude words that Omega could never repeat around Tails. The hybrid waved his hand at her once she was done, muttering something unhappily about not being a little kid.

“G.U.N. did visit them.” the robot said.

“And?” Rouge asked.

“And Sonic was very close to being on the wrong end of a Taser.”

A hint of gold flickered behind Shadow’s brown contacts. “They. Did. Not.”

“They did. But Tails rescued him, so do not destroy the room.” Omega informed him.

Chaos energy still sparked slightly between the hybrid’s fingers. “Who did it.”

Omega decided after a moment of thought that Shadow was unlikely to blow up the room or cause other serious damage and spoke. “A barn owl by the name of Agent Toya.”

“I knew her...she was always pretty quiet. And intense.” Rouge said. “I’d like to get you a meeting with her sometime.”

Shadow smirked darkly, before sighing and falling back onto the bed. “Ugh. I’m too tired to spear her right now.”

Rouge walked over to the window for a minute and looked out, before spinning back around, her eyes bright. “What we need-” she declared, pulling Shadow off the bed and grabbing Omega’s arm with her other hand- “is to go out to a park or something, grab some food, and make fun of all the rich people with their expensive condos and million-dollar handbags. We can listen in on all the hot gossip too. How’s that for an idea?”

Omega was pleased with this idea. “I will taunt all of the people who think they have nice cars. Ours are far superior to their puny vehicles.”

Shadow smirked. “Only if I get to have a lemon iced tea.”

“You could get literally anything and you choose lemon iced tea, but fine. I’ll grab lunch and get you your ye olde drinke while I’m at it, mister 50s.” Rouge rolled her eyes, but she was only joking and he knew it.

“Shut up.” he huffed, swatting at her as they walked out of the hotel.

Rouge cackled so hard she had to sit on Omega’s shoulder for a while to catch her breath. Once she was finished, she grinned down at him. “Feeling better?”

Shadow’s expression briefly darkened, and Rouge regretted saying anything. But then, he seemed to seriously consider her question. “Yeah.” he said quietly, allowing his mouth to twitch up into the faintest hint of a real smile. “Yeah, I am.”

[alfredo-kesmann]

WIP ask game!

My Italian ass is asking for "Ci sarà", but my angst heart beats for "Solitaire". I don't want to be greedy, so let's pick Solitaire.

Unless...?

Thank you so so much for asking, and I'm sorry for reponding so late! The reason for this is mostly that I actually finally got inspiration for Solitaire again after you send me this ask, so thank you for that! I'll give you little snippets of both WIP's, because greed sometimes is good (namely when it motivates me to finally work on WIP’s). 

So, first things first: Solitaire.

You're absolutely, completely right about the angst. The entire plot is Martín angst, I'm not even kidding. The general outline is that it forms a series with Fear and loathing/ Now I see, I see it for the first time, which is about Andrés in the Mint realising he should never have left Martín but accepting that it is too late now anyways. Solitaire is to be Martín's experiences of the Mint heist and the time afterwards. The title is taken from MARINA's song by the same name, and although it only is vaguely is inspired by the song, I want to match the vibe I get from it: a supposedly beautiful life that actually is just... loneliness and tears. A ‘we could have had it all’ and ending up with empty hands. 

I only have a few paragraphs jotted down yet, though, because I find it one of my hardest WIP's to work on: I want to show a canon compliant Martín, and I want to accurately portray the way he feels like a victim, even if he isn't truly one. I want to correctly talk about his mental ilnesses (I am guessing at least depression and narcissistic personality disorder, though I’m not planning to label them in the story), but I am no psychologist. I started this WIP around March or April and I suppose I am now more sure about what I'm doing, and now the words are (finally) slowly flowing. 

That being said, enjoy these little snippets:

“Andrés was like a poisonous drug, flowing through my veins and cutting off any necessary blood supply, but it felt so exquisite, like a breeze in the warmest summer day."

[....]

Martín sat in the middle of broken glass, a reflection of him in more than one way, and cried until breathing was getting hard and his eyes were red and dry. 

[...]

The two of them had become so intertwined that sometimes it was difficult to see which one of them was dead and which one of them was still living.

[...]

The television only showed static now, ever since he had thrown an empty bottle of vodka towards it. ‘Don’t shoot the messenger’, went the saying, but Martín hadn't been able to think straight after he had heard the news. In a way the image was fitting, because Martín’s life had become static too, ever since that horrible day.

[...]

But now he understood Andrés’ romanticizing of the death, for his best friend had lived his whole life knowing he would take his own one day. And he had wanted to make his final show grand, he had wanted a last standing ovation, one that deafened his eyes, before the red curtains closed forever. Martín also knew that Andrés would dissaprove of the method he was contemplating, in his sad little flat, a simple shot instead of blazing guns. So he put the velvet box back and instead took a bottle of vodka in hands, waiting until a better idea came to mind, waited until he had a plan, ignoring how those were harder to come by now Andrés wasn’t with him anymore.

Now, Ci sarà is practically the polar opposite of Solitaire: it's pure and unadulterated fluff. The only thing they have in common is that they both are named after a song and both get too little of my attention ehehe oops. I have no idea where I want to go with this story, whether to make it a one shot, or something more. I think the latter, though.

Basically, I had been studying (very) late and it was around 3AM. I was listening to a music playlist when Ci sarà came on. It is one of my favourite Italian songs (though honestly I love anything by Romina Power and Al Bano) and yes I know, I know, my music taste is just as basic as Andrés de Fonollosa's. I, myself realised that exact fact then as well. So, I thought: what if this would be the song for Berlermo's first dance at their wedding? The song just makes me so happy in an undescribable way, and since feelings are always much stronger deep in the night, I felt so incredibly happy and in love listening to it, in the middle of the night, at a volume that was a little too loud. This resulted in me putting the song on repeat, and trying to describe that feeling I had felt. So in a way, ci sarà is a writing exercise. 

The plot thus far basically is Andrés being overwhelmed by happiness during his wedding dance with Martín (and everyone is alive and happy). Because as much as I love making him suffer in stories, I also like writing his strangely soft side around Martín. I might write the entire wedding and also the proposal, because I have ideas, especially for the latter (Andrés had been planning to propose for months, then Martín is the first to ask him. Andrés is divided between tremendous frustration and great happiness, but obviously says ‘yes’; that’s also why I imagine that they both take the surname ‘Berotte-de Fonollosa’). 

So, here some snippets (I couldn’t choose so it’s slightly more than ‘some’):

They were spinning, whilst the music was swelling, and it was dizzying Andrés. One step back, to the side, close, one forward, to the side, close, an endless repetition. Martín spinning him around and pulling him in his arms again. Their friends all singing Ci sarà, all wearing white clothing and pearly smiles, the adoration clearly visible in Martín’s eyes, how beautiful Martín was looking in the suit. No, not just Martín, his Martín Berotte-de Fonollosa. They were turning again, his husband’s -he couldn’t believe it, his husband’s- warm hand burning on his waist, then on his right cheek, only shortly and suddenly the refrain started and Martín was singing too, albeit softly, yet it’s still too loud in Andrés’ ears. Everything is so loud, so bright, so vibrant. It’s all so pure, and he’s drowning in love, with the sun shining brightly as if it was God’s blessing of their union, the perfectly green grass as nature’s wedding gift to the new spouses. 

[...]

Andrés manages to spot his hermanito in the choir made of bank robbers, he’s holding hands with his wife and Paula and he looks so happy and carefree. He has finally accepted Andrés’ relationship, he had even been the one to walk Andrés to the altar, and the things Sergio had told him then were still going through his head.

The butterflies in Andrés’ stomach were taking him over more and more, he is growing dizzy and dizzier. All this love, he has no place for it, it is seeping through his veins, bursting out of his fingertips like rays of sunshine, out of the fingertips that are currently in Martín’s hand and on his shoulder. Andrés knows that he hasn’t had much to drink yet, but he has never been more intoxicated, intoxicated on this eternity captured in less than four minutes. Martín is turning them again, leading him gently, keeping him steady. Martín is there for him like he has always been. And now it’s finally right, it’s finally the way it should be, the other ring on Martín’s hand. Finally, he has married his last spouse, it’s finally the one who he was meant to be with. Finally, finally, finally.

[...]

Andrés feels like he is flying, like his feet aren’t touching the floor anymore. The two of them form a leaf in a strong summer wind by the blue sea, slowly going upwards in an intricate dance, but they’re also so much more. They are the wind and the sea, the entire universe is drowning in their love and they are drowning in the universe. It’s all so much, so so much, yet so small. There is no Berlín, no Palermo, no monastery, no friends forming a choir, no wedding cake, it’s just Andrés and Martín Berotte-de Fonollosa, and their love for eachother. 

[...]

Andrés is oh so dizzy with happiness and love, and then he feels it, wet on his cheeks, rolling over his lips, Martín’s hand gently sweeping the oceans welling in his husband’s eyes away. He wants to open his eyes, but he can’t and he doesn’t need it anyway, he already knows what Martín’s soft smile would look like. When Martín kisses him again, softly cupping his cheek, Andrés realises his husband had been crying as well, their tears mixing together like everything between the two of them always has, the way they’ve always been. Like so many of their clothes, their ideas, their furniture, their past and future, their personalities, their love. They have always been intertwined, it just took Andrés a while to see. 

[...]

“I can’t believe you cried,” Martín said as he giggled, truly giggled, and Andrés thought it was somewhat comparable bubbles coming to the surface in a fishing pond, and then decided it was a stupid thought because nothing can compare to his husband. Andrés can’t help smiling. “You were crying too, mi marido,” he says softly, the quip in there lost, replaced by pure adoration. He takes Martín’s face into his hands. “Today was my last wedding, I know it for sure. No one else has ever made me feel like this.” And normally, Martín would have joked that he must had said that to all of his wives too, but he didn’t. Instead, his hands mirrored Andrés’, softly stroking Andrés’ cheekbones, which were still wet with tears. Their lips met without any of their usual aggression and hunger, and maybe this kiss was even more important than the one after the exchanging of vows, for Andrés just had made a promise that was much more meaningful. 

Thank you again for asking, I hope you liked these snippets! I might or might not have just started another WIP based on the season 5 trailer, so I have no clue when these two will finally be published. 

[snipehuntpotatosack]

Unofficial Commentary on the text tagged [Chronic Metaphor] – A Servo-Subsystem Research Program Summary in Four Cantos; with Addendum re site visit

Initial apologetics (if the term is applicable and/or recognized) are due concerning the graphic or “pronunciatory” form in which the material herein discussed was/is presented, even tho the unit(s) generating said material were not at any time under my direct or indirect personal control. Yes, I identify myself as a “person” in the oldest and most trivial sense in addressing you herein, and the form I use will continue to be the prosiest, fussiest and most boringly irritating of proses. As for why precisely a psychoneurotic pseudopoet with a rusty valve stuck open seems to have generated an idiosyncratic 255-line precis of the non-results of an actual very official, time-consuming, and quite expensive archeologic-epistemic study in astrocognitive phenomena in a species of volatile vers libre rather than the usual lethal academic sludge-speak: as part of one of the cyclical waves of good-heartedness affecting managerial disposition toward the treatment of the “semi-sentient,” a random selection of report writers were encouraged to experiment with other linguistic models which might more effectively package complex/banal-seeming information so as to attract more network attention, this being regarded as an a priori goal for some reason…It is not clear whether the composers of the CM text had any particular literary models in mind (and I can assure everyone that no ‘machine’ time has been spent on investigating this uninteresting question); I think it more likely that the inspired creator(s) attempted to place breaks similar to physical speech rhythms – as in the incantations of Druidical sages gone cybermad – into whatever data it occurred to them to convey (partly suggested by the fact that the “speaker-units” under study imitate the rhythms, the rushes and caesuras, of persons talking – while of course making no sense whatsoever).

 Regardless of the semi-bizarre form in which the summary report has been assembled, and even taking into account its various semi-snide sidelights on the assumptions, motivations or delusions of participants in this and other official research ventures, having been called upon unofficially to comment on its usefulness at this stage in our reckoning with what we have encountered, I can only add the following:

I have nothing further to add.

Whatever follows should not be expected to modify our overall evaluation of the project or of any potential for further expenditure or non-expenditure; it represents only my particular, that is personal, inclination to fill in some background details regarding this overall puzzling, unsatisfyingly incomplete area of inquiry. (As intimated in a particular line of Canto C, “breadth” without “depth” of information can be particularly irksome to the curious mind, though whether my extra depths may lead anywhere is doubtful.)

Standard trans-galactic probe techniques did in fact encounter (and retrieve detailed information in a wide range of sensory and mathematical categories), at a date not too far from the beginning of our current technocratic era, with a nearly perfectly planar solid object consisting entirely as far as we know of the element Carbon, in the form graphite, at a location which remains constant though classified. Its planar quality is “nearly” perfect, of course, since the sheet does possess some top-to-bottom thickness – exactly 256 molecules. Otherwise, no limit to its extent has yet been found, by any sensing or calculational means possible, in any direction. (We can, of course, access its “other side”, by approaching from the other direction). The object is thus referred as “finite but boundless,” in the sense that before contact is made with the planar surface, there is no graphite; once contact is made, there is.

 This description would seem to imply that the plane slices the megaverse in half; and so it would, except for its orientation in Riemann space. You will appreciate that this point cannot be expanded on using semantic language.

 The entire “population” of the plane is a transfinite (that is the word, as per Canto A , – and there’s no other; we simply cannot know how many) set of black carbon nano-fiber cubical audio speakers, of an extremely basic design, with one smallish vibrating sound-producing diaphragm each. Forgive me if I slip into homey jargon – each one is about knee high, and they sit there about one-and-a-half arm’s length from each other in a very exact pointillist array, all facing in the exact same direction, if there was a way to define that direction, which there isn’t. Tomography indicates a small disk at the interior base may be their power source, though what activates and deactivates (or uses up) this power source is beyond our ken. In addition, a small white light of the simplest construction on top of the cube lights up with modest wattage when the speaker-unit operates, and goes out afterward.

 Yes, of course we’ve tried to sample the graphite. Of course we’ve tried to disassemble a speaker and microanalyze its parts, in situ or, if it could be arranged, at another location. They cannot be picked up, moved, pierced, bent, melted, dinged, crushed, drilled, lasered, or physically affected in any way. This although they are quite physically real; you can trace its contour through your glove, and if you bang your knee against one of the corners (through the leg of your e-suit) it will raise a lump. It cannot be detached from the surface of the plane by the application through torsion of a force sufficient to propel an object free of the gravity of galactic center. No, we have not attempted to destroy any smaller or larger part of the plane and its population using the most fearsome destructive tools known; logical analysis could not project any conceivable gain in information through this procedure.

 And yes, as the lumpiness of my description indicates, I have been personally to Site F, as the wags call it (short for many possible terms). Only once. Continued data collection of any sort of data anyone or anything could ever dream up obviously continues via automatic installations on site; budgetary questions only arise  concerning whether to continue analyzing this Leviathan of unappealing input as it grows dusty in our virtual ledgers. As for the considerable resources entailed in dispatching any more eyewitnesses to F, in corpore, I suspect the only reason this is not now completely ruled out is a kind of inchoate, cosmic superstition – having never successfully peered into the mind of function f, if any such thing exists, we can’t stop peeking sideways to see what it might do next; and we certainly wouldn’t want it to feel slighted in the meantime.

  Approaching F from a series of eccentric hyperbolics, one’s first impression is of a dimly pearlescent Cupid’s bow, of the radius of a gnat, then an inchworm, then perhaps a comb jelly, performing rather silly flips and inverted rotations in the blackness as your perspective gyrates round that of the approach trajectory. When very close indeed, the sense of a gargantuan flat dance floor – picked out in midnight streaks not by F itself but by our own, stationary illuminators – grows alarmingly, and then vanishes completely as one comes to rest – on an array of cubes, rather than the actual floor, which makes no difference. (An odd sensation, being deposited on a perfectly flat plane – it immediately popped into my head that our own technology approaches nothing similar.)

It is simple to make shoe-soles that love graphite. The environment of F is pure, dead-vacuum, intergalactic space, with a floor to walk on. Unfortunately, the floor is studded with solid shin-busters whose regular spacing will not spare one without considerable practice, so travel groups are collectively lighted from above. There is not much of a walk to reach the Activated Area, no matter when you go, since one can land anywhere; but tourists are given about fifteen minutes approach time to allow the pupils to adjust.

 You are advancing on foot into the maw of trillion-diamond Tiara City, the scintillating illusion building intricately to past fifty, sixty degrees above the horizon even tho every individual photon originates mere centimeters from the surface. The walls and webs of light are thickly constructed to the sides of you and behind you, and seem to be narrowing and crowning upward ahead – the parabolic arch now spanning well more than a billion active electrified entities of unknown origin and purpose. Two hours walk, three, and the illusory multidimensional effect has worn thin as you near the focus; adjusted retina now perceive a flat broad white light everywhere, neither intense nor interrupted, utterly transparent, and yielding a perspective at once completely repetitive and monstrously surreal, as the twinkling cubes march in serried ranks to the horizon.

 Then, your automated guide introduces the next phase of your learning experience. Your earphones, which have been shut completely till now, are slowly – over a period of many minutes – exposed to what is really filling the air around you, reaching and remaining at a level approximating eight percent of the true volume level –

 Did I say the AIR?

 Indeed Madam or Sir, without which there would be no way to hear, record, analyze the Speech of the speaker cubes. In fact, when Site F was first discovered, millions upon millions of active speaker-units were gabbling away freely – as evidenced clearly by the tremblings and agitations of their sound-producing diaphragms - and producing no sound at all in the vacuum of space.

Nor did they, until our researchers filled the surrounding space with ambient gases appropriate to the operation of the speaker units in producing phonemic sound. Verbal sound. Innumerable combinations of gases with and without particulate additives have been tried for this purpose, but only one maximizes F-Site speaker performance: the exact proportions of nitrogen and oxygen found on what our dear dead ancestors were pleased to call home.

Our poetic prologue omitted this as a mere technical detail; the notion that indestructible space-born units would be sent on an eternal mission, i.e. to talk – and not only not given anyone to talk to, but no way to be heard if there was –

did not interest our core analytic cadres compared to the potential or hypothetical mathematics of the mother-ship f function.

.

So now, fellow voyager, we have reached the final revelation, laid bare to our senses. As hovering tanks emit invisible atmospheres toward all and sundry, we finally hear the Star Speech of the mysterious Speakers. They talk, and talk, and talk, in every direction.

As far as anyone can understand, it means nothing at all….

except for one small detail.

There is one other thing about their conversation, which the Poem did not mention.

 They don’t just talk. They whisper, they moan. They bellow, they proclaim in profound orotund baritones. They shriek like the demons of Macbeth’s blasted heath. They burble, grovel, compliment, snarl, sob, ululate, snicker, mimic, plead, project, perorate, bloviate, gargle, snivel, boast, wheedle, insinuate, denounce, exaggerate, hype, summon, denounce, deceive, chatter, natter, blather, yammer, wail, mourn, elegize, mesmerize, scandalize, ingratiate, stutter, sputter, mew, whinge, neigh, hector, harp, emote, ejaculate, envision, exclaim, erupt, elucidate, yowl, yak, jape, jest, jabber, greet, grandiloquize, chisel, charm, chuckle, chitter, crow, brag, argue, segue, toast, threaten, ameliorate, pray, parry, aver, avow, acclaim, attest, affirm, achoo, agree, account, accept, accredit, auction, authorize, augur, theorize, temporize, tantalize, tongue, tang, teeng, tong, and tan two tonsils for every top ticket in town

And there’s one other thing we know. Not from ourselves, because we’d have to die first. But from the machines, who can stay there long, long after we’d wink out.

 If you just stand there, and wait until all the quintillions around you have had their say, they all wink out, night falls; and The Perfectly Clear Light, and then The Trillion Diamond Tiara City, and then The Pearly Cupid’s Bow, move on, on, on into the Inky Way, talking, talking forever

[gh0stiegirlie]

Synopsis: You have been a pro-hero for the past three years, and a damn good one too (although, you don’t think so). When you and Ground Zero are assigned on a stakeout case together to capture a member of the Dark Akumu, which is currently Musutafu's most threatening Villian League, it changes the entire course of your career-- and your life.  

Length: 1.6k words

a/n: YOOOO the bitch is back better than ever after two years, and super into my hero academia. this is going to be a multiple parter series, so I hope this is a great lil pilot!

                                                                                                 pt. 2 -> 

The feeling of civilian eyes analyzing your every move is nothing new; You are a pro-hero, after all. However, the feeling of Ground Zero glaring daggers into you as you enter the sheriff’s office is a new-- and rather unsettling --experience. 

“Welcome, Ether.” Sheriff Chie greets and gestures for you to take a seat in her office’s beaten-down spinny chair. “I have a very special case for you tomorrow night.”

“I’m all ears,” you shift awkwardly in the chair, trying to get comfortable. The number of times you and other heroes have sat in this shitty chair and listened to the Sheriff explain a convoluted plan to capture a villain was innumerable. Although, you guess the number is in the hundreds. At least. 

“We’ve had a lesser-known pro-hero go undercover, and they were able to join the intermediate group of Dark Akumu. They’ve disclosed that during pro-agencies weekly wrap-ups with their heroes this Friday, they will be attacking several meetings. But, they can’t attack without supplies.” she continues pacing around her office, although she has nowhere to go. Her office is an inadequate size for the amount of time and effort she puts into her job, and every hero here knows she deserves a bigger space for her ideas of grandeur to fester-- and a raise in her salary, too. But since pro-heroes are the ones publicly capturing villains and doing the true “labor”, you’re the ones who receive the fame, glory, and money. Police officers no longer receive the credit they deserve, and some even believe they're no longer necessary. But Sheriff Chie is an example of why the police industry is still breathing within the tight confinements pro-heroes wrapped them in; they love representing and protecting the quirkless people of the world, and society needs that. Even if it doesn’t realize it. “Tomorrow night, the Dark Akumu will have their leader's right-hand man, Youkai, collect a shipment from a smaller underground group.” She slams her hands down on his desk with enthusiasm and points at you. “That’s when you and Ground Zero come in.”

You push yourself away from the desk in shock. “Katsuki Bakugou?” You exclaim, spinning around in your chair to face the door. You stare out the small window into the police department. “I haven’t spoken to him since high school…” you trail off, remembering his bitterly cold gaze from a few minutes ago. It looked like he was trying to ignite an explosion inside your intestines. After a few moments of reflecting, you turn to face Sheriff Chie. “Why us?”

“Your powers aid each other well,” she responds simply. “The two of you will stakeout until both parties arrive for the trade. The combination of your compatible powers with the element of surprise,” she grins, “you two will be unstoppable, and capture Youkai in a matter of seconds.”

“It’s a great plan, Chie, really. All your plans are.” you begin, “But I think you’re underestimating our foes here. Yeah, they only have one villain collecting the supplies, but still. This is currently Musutafu’s most threatening villain league. He's not going down without a fight. And by fight, I mean a full-on battle.”

The Sheriff scoffs. “You underestimate yourself, Ether. Ground Zero holds more confidence in you than you do,” she explains with a wink. You turn away once more, so she can’t see the pink blush encompassing your cheeks. 

“You know Bakuguh—uh—Ground Zero and I haven’t spoken since U.A. Even then, we scarcely interacted. Except for a brawl or two.” You twirl a piece of h/c hair that fell out of your high ponytail. “It’s true that our quirks complement each other. So how come we’ve never been paired up before? Why now?” You question. 

Chie simply replies with a shrug. “There’s never been a need for two of the most powerful modern heroes to pair up; Now there’s a demand for that exact role. And you two have been selected to fulfill it.” You shift in your chair uncomfortably and avoid Chie's imploring brown eyes. She puts a hand on your shoulder. “Cmon, Skylar. I understand you have a… difficult past with Ground Zero, but I’m asking you as a protector of people and as your friend to please try and look past that. At least for one night. The city needs you. ” Sheriff Chie pleads, and she’s right. You hang your head in your hands before running one through your hair. Then, you spin around with perfect posture and a humbling smile on your face. You respectfully nod your head at Sheriff Chie.

“I’m sorry, Sheriff. You’re right. I’m sure Ground Zero and I are old enough to move on from our past together and instead focus on our future. Thank you.” 

The Sheriff's proud grin is contagious, and you can’t help but smile in satisfaction with her plan. As you are about to leave the office, Chie stops you. “Before you go! I want to talk to you as your friend, not a sheriff.” You walk over to her desk and lean in close. “Hero Ground Zero was also somewhat… displeased, when he heard you were his partner. Just... Try not to fall... deeper, into his bad side. He'll lure you in, but you have to be smarter. And you are.”

“But... does he even have a good side?” You joke, and Chie chuckles.

“I know, right! With every passing second he spent in my office he looked more and more like an angry balloon ready to pop. I think his head just holds tons of hot air that he can only release by yelling at someone or punching something.” 

“It felt like he spent all of high school searching for a reason two do one of those things! Someone could walk by him the “wrong way” and he would get offended.” You laugh, holding tightly onto your aching sides.

These are the moments with Sheriff Chie you cherish; the one when you two aren’t head sheriff and pro-hero, but Chie and Skylar. Normal people, normal friends. 

After laughing over Ground Zero's unnecessarily aggressive attitude towards literally everything to the point of rolling around her modest office and bumping into shelves and knocking down paperwork, you decide it’s time to leave. You hug on the way out.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at three pm sharp. I’ll briefly explain the mission again, and you two will be on your way shortly after.” You nod, and as you walk away Chie calls out from her office, “Oh! And we’ll be providing some spicy food!! The least we can do for our favorite heroes.”

You giggle and shake your head, sending a quick wave in Chie's direction as you continue to the exit. Before you leave, you glance at the spot Ground Zero was sitting in earlier. All that remains of the hero is a minor burn from his butt, presumably after growing impatient from sitting down for too long. Surprisingly, you smile at the thought. Ground Zero must not have changed much since U.A. While part of you dreads working alongside that hothead of a hero, another half appears eager to see what he's like as a pro.

It has only been a few years since you graduated with Bakugou and the rest of class 3-A at the age of seventeen. You're only twenty one now, but you feel like you've lived through three lives since high school, not three years. While the school had prepared you well for the fighting villains part of pro-hero life, they hadn’t prepared you for the physical and emotional consequences. As mentioned, you're barely twenty-one, but you're a regular at the doctor and chiropractor. You bare a heavy burden of having to execute everything perfectly all the time; no room for casualties. Because of this stress on saving every person, along with all your brand deals and sponsorships, you hardly maintain a life outside of work. While you love what you do, you miss meeting with friends at a coffee shop in the morning only to shop at the mall until midnight. You miss cuddling up with your Midnight plushie at 10 o’clock and watching superhero documentaries till the crack of dawn. Now, you are the one protecting those friends lounging around in coffee shops and malls, and the hero starring in documentaries. You truly love it all; You love digging your nose deep into Chemistry books and studying chemicals to create new toxins. You love protecting essential workers from the terrors of those who use their quirks for evil, and consequently beating the shit out of those people. But sometimes, you wish you were another bystander.

As a kid, you watched in awe as the heroes fought tirelessly, day and night, to always flawlessly beat the villain. But actually doing that, especially without complaints, is more difficult than you ever comprehended.

You park your Toyota Supra outside one of your perks of being a top ten pro hero. Currently, you live in a 1286112000.00 yen mansion and recently bought a 5358800000.00 yen estate. You were to begin moving next week and considered holding a little gathering at your new home in Tokyo as an excuse to hang out with your pro-hero 3-A classmates.

When you lock the front door, that’s when the isolation consumes you. Vast linoleum halls and long vinyl walls form a repetitive, meandering maze in your home. The only company you have are the halls that are starting to fill with donation boxes. There is one similarity between you and this house you are preparing to abandon; You both are empty on the inside. 

You shuffle your way onto your velvet sofa and turn on the TV, ensuring to avoid the news. While mindless cartoons play in the background, you take out your phone and read every Google result for Ground Zero.