#Have I had this video practically on repeat today

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

So I guess it’s time for me to advertise to the entire neighborhood how insufferably neurodivergent I am by blaring a very specific playlist on a portable speaker while I ride my bike around the neighborhood, wearing very specific clothes — holding my hands, face, and posture in a very specific way — and pray to Satan (not really… I’m agnostic just like someone else, unironically) they understand what I’m trying to tell them with the music, and make the connection between the name I’m alluding to and exactly what that name means, and put two and two together that the name will happen to them if they take any pamphlets from my father seriously and decide to convert to the path of “everlasting life on a paradise earth” ahahAhAHAHAHA I AM MAD SCIENTIST! (sunuvabitch)

[itsalwaysdark]

itis very funny i post so much abt myself but i dont actually post that much abt what goes on day to day . mainly bc there isnt much but like. u guys arent even aware of mine and lamps current music phase .. crazy

[jarofstyles]

Cabernet

This can be read as a standalone I think, but! Here is a second part of Merlot! It's spicy and sweet so I hope you guys like it. Unsure if there will be any more parts (I’m open if you guys have more ideas!) but I do love a good dilfrry.

Check out our Patreon for early access and 200+ exclusive writings!

WC- 4.1k

Warnings- smut, age gap relationship, anal (for those who asked ur welcome!), unprotected sex, cumplay, Dom/sub elements

-------

Harry was by far the best man she had ever dated. 

Their age gap was evident at times, but not in a bad way. It was rather cute when he had been confused about videos she sent or his own excitement to show her the movies or books he was referencing. The added element of their dynamic was learning from one another. Harry had been teaching her about publishing and helping her flesh out the first draft of her book while she sat in his office some days, helping him out in return by getting him coffee or lunch or an occasional shoulder massage when he got particularly stressed. An unofficial assistant of sorts. 

“I feel like if I have to write the word ‘said’ one more time, my brain is going to explode.” She grumbled, pushing her laptop across the couch and leaning back on it. The leather seat in his office was by far the most comfortable one she had sat on and he happily invited her to come into the office to see him as often as she wanted. It was both practical and selfish on both ends.It was easier to work in a space like this and with the understanding that Harry really did have work he was doing, she focused on her own stuff. A quiet pair of people working in each other’s company. 

Add in the fact that he was the boss man, it made it much easier for her to come and go as she pleased. 

“Mm, sometimes authors get stuck with words in their novels. They’ll have phrases they repeat a few too many times, usually gets called out in editing and fixed. It’s not a bad thing. But with words that are action words like that, there are options. Y’know, depending on the scene and tone. Murmured, muttered, peeped, whispered, whined, moaned, huffed, grumbled. Those sorts of words.” He tapped his pen against the desk as he lifted his eyes to her. 

It didn’t get old. Seeing her pretty face sitting in his office looking the way she did, much more comfortable than the night they’d first met, but still appropriate for an office setting.

Sometimes he did let his mind wander into the roleplay aspect, wondering if she had been his real assistant if he would have made a move. If Y/N was the Y/N he knew now? Probably. Scandalous. 

Today she wore a pair of black flowy pants and a matching turtleneck, but on top she had a chunky knit cardigan that was utterly adorable. It had yellow moons and stars, a deep purple color with sleeves she had to push up so they didn’t hide her hands. His girl leaned into the office aesthetic when she came in so she didn’t stick out too much but with him or when they were at his place or out together, he loved seeing her dressed in her normal clothing. She looked soft, whimsical almost. Like a little fairy. 

“Hm. Good point. I need to write down all the synonyms in my notes app and defer to that because if I’m getting tired of writing it, I know whoever ends up reading it will get tired of seeing it too.” Her lips puffed to blow a strand of hair that had fallen from her bun, brows furrowed as she failed and made her hand ready up to tuck it behind her ear instead. 

Again, cute.

“Not necessarily.” He replied, leaning back in his chair. “We’re our own harshest critics. I doubt they’re paying that much attention to that. The majority of people will be paying attention to world building, character development, plot, sex scenes, all that fun stuff. The exact wording isn’t always the most important thing. But it shows that you care about quality.” He shot her a grin. “So you will be successful.”

“Mmm… and not because I’m fucking the publishing head?” She grinned as she stood up, stretching her arms out. 

“Well. That helps.” He wouldn’t deny it. She had a leg up, but he wouldn’t publish just anything. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t publish shit work. It isn’t worth the reputation of my company. Your writing is genuinely good, my sweet.” He knew the drill by now. Her heeled boots were kicked off by the couch and she made her way over to him, the tiredness starting to hit her as she happily perched herself on his lap. 

“Good to know.” She snorted before pressing a kiss to his scruffy cheek. The facial hair had grown but he was shaping it currently. She promised she’d be okay with whatever he did to it but didn’t want anything to happen to the mustache. That wasn’t allowed to go. “What are you working on? Anything fun?” 

“No, nothing incredibly interesting I’m afraid.” His hand squeezed her hip underneath the cardigan. “I was working on some contracts earlier but every so often I pick up some submissions and read through them myself. This one is very bland, unfortunately. There’s potential, absolutely. Their writing style is lovely, but the plot falls flat and the characters are one dimensional. S’like they chose a specific stereotype and did nothing to differentiate them.” It was unfortunate.” It was a shame he came across all too often.

“It’s obvious this person is trying but they’ve never observed or met someone with these traits. I don’t think you absolutely have to follow the rule ‘write what you know’, but I think a lot of the best works come from drawing from our own experiences. Romance, for them, doesn’t seem to be a passion. They’d do better with mystery with their writing style as it is, but they have to improve on other aspects first.” 

“Is it hard for you to see stuff like that?” She asked curiously, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I can tell you’re a little disappointed with it, so I have to wonder if it happens a lot.”

“It does. And it is hard when you see someone with potential not living up to it but I have faith that if we send them some constructive criticism notes that maybe they won’t see it as an attack but as a place of genuine care. I’m going to have someone meet with them I think, give them my notes and have them explain it in nicer terms than the plain ones I used. Maybe they can work on it again and add more and we’d have a best seller.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I can see they care about it in the way they put details in, but it needs more.”

There was something incredibly attractive about listening to him talk about it. It was always attractive to see someone care and talk about their passions; but Harry was on another level. She could see it on his face that he was disappointed and knew the person could do better. While it made it all the more nerve wracking for her own novel, she had him working with her along the way.

He never told her where to go with her story in terms of ideas, but how to improve the mechanics. Reading over bits and telling her to take away a certain detail and add more in other places, or giving suggestions about how things could flow smoother. He’d listened to her storyboard, after showing her the author equivalent of it, and gave his honest feedback from a publisher's point of view and then from a boyfriend’s point of view.

Sometimes it was more obvious that he was the one with miles more life experience in these instances but she couldn’t be upset about it when it only aided in strengthening their relationship. 

“I see.” She looked at the manuscript on the desk with the red pen of doom. “Oof. The red pen is out… and you’ve used it a lot.” 

“Well, there are errors.” He chuffed, kissing her cheek in return. “Did you get enough done?” The word count goal had been 3,000 for today, but he didn’t make it for her. It was all on her. He simply helped keep her accountable.

“I did more. I think… 4.5?” She tilted her head trying to remember. “Now my head feels like soup.” It did feel like mush right now. That was why the laptop was closed and abandoned and she was finding comfort in the man. It was like a reward. 

“That’s ace, my dove. Amazing.” He praised. The pride he felt for her was earned fair and square. She had been applying herself more now than ever. Since their first night together they hadn’t really separated, seeing each other at least a few times a week. Her work ethic was there as she had zeroed in on what she wanted. “Why don’t we finish this up and go back to mine, mm?” 

Harry had been holding off all week. He’d gone a bit rough one night and even though she said she was fine, he wanted to give her body time to relax. As much as he loved sex, he had wanted her body to enjoy it more than anything else. Not be overly swollen and sore the next day. 

Today was going to be the day to break that. A full week of nothing but heated kisses, and she was as needy as needy could get. He felt her perk up at the mention, sitting up straighter in his lap. 

“Please! Let’s go. We can get food on the way home but I think we have some pressing matters to attend to.” She sniffed, standing from him and offering a hand to help him up. “Chop chop. Get a move on, mister.”

——-

Two rounds in and he knew she could take it. Her poor cunt was a mess and he knew that as pretty as it was all drippy and swollen, she had been aching for him to get a try into her other hole. They’d had a proper discussion about it, and he had effectively been edging her the entire night. Fair? No, but she knew how he rolled. The promised pleasure first, experiments after. Just in case she wanted to stop, she got something out of the night. 

She’d been warming his cock for a bit as he held her in his arms, cooing soft praises about how good of a girl she was, how brave she had been to ask for something new tonight when he felt her get impatient. She didn’t need to say it. He knew her well enough now to understand what she wanted. Pulling his cock out and rubbing the tip against her asshole, pressing against it and spreading the sticky cum over the rim.  “Want me t’fuck this tight little ass too?  Fill you from both ends."

“Wanna try.” She nodded, panting as her cunt contracted and his cum dribbled out of her pussy. “You’re so big I… I dunno if I can take it. Go slow.” Y/N knew she was slightly cock drunk but she also trusted him. He’d made her feel good already, took his time with everything else why wouldn’t she want to test this with him?

“Okay, my sweet. Just relax.” Harry wasn’t nervous, but he was cautious. His girl was precious cargo, and he wanted to make sure it felt as good as it could. He’d done the work of stretching her with his fingers, but it was going to be a challenge to get him in there regardless. He slowly pushed his thick head past the tight rim of her back hole. Watching her face intently, his own contorted with pleasure. "You're doing so good, doll," he encouraged softly. "Just relax and let me in. You can take it."

The pressure was intense, and she hissed out a breath as he slowly pushed more and more of himself into her. His thick head stretched her wide, and he paused, letting her adjust to the new sensation. "Breathe." The reminder was whispered as he realized she was holding her breath, his hand carding through her hair tenderly.

"That's it, baby. You're taking it so well. Always do so good f’me." He praised, his voice low and soothing. He slowly pushed more of himself into her, inch by inch, his thick prick spreading her wide. She could feel every vein, every ridge, as he slowly filled her up.

As he slid deeper, Harry could feel the intense pressure and stretch around his girth. Her tight little hole was gripped tightly around his shaft, the muscles fluttering and contracting as he pushed his way inside. She felt like she was being split in two, her body struggling to accommodate his bigger size- but she was. Slowly but surely, he sunk into her fully.

She had done it. 

“Fuck.” She sobbed out, clinging to him as he got down to the base. Never in her life had she felt so full that way, so stretched. Only Harry could make her feel this way. It wasn’t just the physical feeling, but the emotional one too. She trusted him more than she trusted anyone else. His guidance was priceless.

"You're doing so good, You’ve got it all in. Jus’ gotta let it adjust." he soothed, his voice strained as he fought to keep control. Giving her a moment to adjust, his hands stroking her hair and her cheeks, his thumb brushing away her tears. "You feel so hot around me, doll. So tight. Knew y’would be."

“I wanna be… I want you to feel good.” She whispered, looking at him with wet eyes. “It’s just so big. I’m tryin’ to take it.” It surely wasn't a beginner cock but she wasn’t known for taking the easy way.

"You're doing so well, baby," he reassured her, his hands never leaving her. He slowly pulled out halfway before sinking in again, a little faster this time. "That's it... take me all the way in."

It was the fourth time he did it that she felt the pleasure. Both from the action and the thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against her swollen clit, making her gasp. Her eyes fell shut as she leaned her head back, slowly relaxing into the bed.

He watched her face contorted in pleasure, his heart swelling with pride. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice rough. As she opened her eyes, he began to pick up the pace, his hips pressing against hers. "M’so proud of you. Look at you, taking every bit of me.”

Y/N sent him a blissed out smile as her hand slipped between them, rubbing her own clit slowly as he fucked into her ass. There was nothing rushed about it, nothing frantic, and it felt good just to be. Her muscles relaxed, making it feel even better as his cock filled her hole. Soft moans left her mouth as she curled her other hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down so he was close. “Are they the best holes you’ve had?”

Harry’s face was lax in his own pleasure as he felt her tight ass clench around his cock. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his breath hot against her lips. “They are. So fucking tight, so perfect. Can’t compare them t’anything else.” He kept up his steady rhythm, loving how her body moved with his. “You feel so good. Can never get enough of you.” He whispered, brushing a stray hair out of her face before stroking her puffy lip. They were so pretty. Kissing wasn’t something he’d thought much of before, but he hadn’t kissed Y/N. She had changed everything for him. 

“Better than that silly ex wife?” She prodded, watching with a little smirk as she watched him think it over. Y/N had a feeling she was by the way be was acting,  but she wanted to hear it.

"Way better." he grunted, his hips snapping forward. "Little minx, y’just need to ask that, hm? No need to be jealous. She never gets t’have me again. Only y-you." He stuttered as her hand moved around his neck and she squeezed down hard on him. "Her holes were nothing compared to yours, doll. Nothing."

Y/N giggled as she choked him a little bit, watching his eyes widen before pulling. It was obvious that while he was the big man in charge- she could have fun too. “That’s what I like to hear. I’ll tell you a secret, Harry.” Her lips brushed his as she kept the grip on his throat. Her lips were swollen and sensitive, the coarse facial hair brushing it and making her want to moan. “None of the boys my age have ever made me cum. They never fucked my ass. Never fucked me raw. And you did it all.”

"And I'm gonna keep doing it," he rumbled, eyes burning with lust as she kissed him. His hand tightened in her hair, tugging gently and pulling her deeper into the kiss. “You’ve got a man now, no need to think of those boys.You want me t’keep being nice to you? Keep making you cum?”

“If you keep fucking me like this, I do. Want my man to be so, so nice to me.” She gasped as he pushed all the way in, balls rested snug against her ass as he slowly humped into her, the comfort of the fullness making her fingers work harder on her clit. “Gotta- Gotta prove you can keep up with me, old man. That you c-can live up to the hype. I like the bit of silver at your temples but…” Her moan was broken as he pulled out and pushed back in, jostling her. “Gotta prove why older guys are b-better for pretty little things like me.”

"Oh, I'll prove it to you," he growled, picking up pace as he pounded into her tight ass. She had no idea just how badly he’d needed her to walk into his life. Thank god she had. This was everything he had ever wanted. "And right now, you need me to wreck this little hole until you can't walk straight. You need me to show you how a real man handles his woman. I'll give you everything you crave, everything you need. You just have to let go and trust me.” The man had every intention of proving how much better he could be for her than she could ever imagine.

"Fuck, look at this cunt." He muttered, reaching down to spread her dripping pussy apart. "It's absolutely soaked, just dripping down. Love it, hm?” The smugness in his tone would usually make her scowl but there was no denying it. The proof was right there. It was undeniable. “You're so turned on, baby. It's making it easier for me to fuck this tight little ass of yours." The glossy, hard flesh glistened with slick, dripping down onto the bed beneath her. His own cum intermingled with her own, making his movements smoother as he pushed in and out of her, coating her holes with their combined essence.

Her face was a mask of pure ecstasy, her eyes rolled back in her head as she whimpered in pleasure, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. Her asshole clenching and unclenching around his thick cock with each thrust, trying to milk him for all he was worth. Her body was feeling tingly, her legs trembling as he fucking into her ass, the sound of her arousal and his hips hitting her skin filling the room. She was completely lost in the pleasure, her mind clouded by the overwhelming sensation of being thoroughly fucked.

As she reached the peak of her orgasm, he took over and began rubbing her clit with his own thumb, the sensation sending waves of pleasure cascading through her body. She cried out, her pussy gushing as she came harder than she would have imagined being fucked like this. She was so overwhelmed that she could only hold limply onto his arms as he continued to pound into her, his thick cock stretching her hole as it thrust through the waves of her intense orgasm.

His face contorted, vein bulging in his neck as he struggled to hold back. "You feel too good, baby. I can't... I can't hold back any longer." His heavy balls drew up close to his body, ready to unleash another load inside of her. The feeling of her taut muscles milking him, the way she clung to him with every fiber of her being, it was too much. He was sensitive himself, but he wanted to deliver everything she wanted.

"Please, Harry...Please,come inside me... I wanna feel you fill me up. Want it everywhere." She panted, her voice desperate with need. Half of the fun of sex was seeing him lose that control he so easily held in all other scenarios. She wanted to make him feel just as good as he made her feel. He deserved it.

His restraint shattered at her words.  "Fuck, you're gonna get what you asked for."

With a guttural groan, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and let go, his hot load pulsing into her hole in thick ropes. She felt each ribbon scalding her , marking her as his. "That's it, take it all... That’s m’girl.” He kept cumming, his cock twitching as he filled her. Ribbon after ribbon filled her up until she was overflowing with his load, almost overwhelmingly so. He finally slowed, his chest heaving, before gently pulling out of her ass, his cock glistening with the evidence of their fuck.

With a sense of possessive pride, he watched as his cum began to leak out of her stretched hole, dripping down her thighs. It was satisfying in the filthiest way. Primal and caveman in every sense of the word, he loved knowing that he had done it. He’d taken every one of her holes and made her his in the dirtiest type of way. He gently spread her cheeks apart, admiring the sight of his mark leaking from her. "Look at that... You're so full of me, S’that what you wanted?”

“Mhm.” She smiled, slightly drunk on the orgasm and the fact that he had pushed her further than anyone else had before. it was a good feeling in her body, the beginnings of soreness and the calming heat of his hands as he caressed her the way he wanted. “Exactly what I wanted. Think M’gonna have to keep you around so we can do that again.”

“I’d hope so.” He laughed tiredly, pushing back down to take her mouth for another kiss. “I’m far from finished with you, sweet little thing. But I think I’ve ravaged your body enough. Think you need a bath and some tea, get you ready to sleep.” 

Aftercare wasn’t something she’d experienced in any other relationship either, but she realized now it was probably a Harry exclusive thing. He was phenomenal at it. A lot of things, honestly. He experimented with her responsibly, took care of her after every round of sex, checked in on her, made sure she was eating proper meals, and helped her with her career. She’d lucked out with him. Whatever his ex wife was thinking, she had no clue- but she wasn’t about to waste a single bit of him.

“Do you have chamomile?” She asked softly, pecking his lips in return. 

“What do you take me for? Course I’ve got it.” He scoffed, pinching her chin. “But if I didn’t, I’d find some for you. Know it’s your favorite. Added it to the grocery list, along with your cereal, your rancid battery acid energy drinks, and the sweet and salty popcorn.” 

“It’s good battery acid, I’ll have you know.” She giggled, carding her fingers through his hair. He did have a bit of gray going on the temples but it was sexy. Just hearing how much he cared and put effort into the tiny things made her giddy. 

“Yeah, yeah. We can talk about your poison in the morning. It’s time to get clean and go t’sleep. Tomorrow may be the day you write five thousand words. You never know.”

[damelucyjo]

Mazz Murray - The Winner Takes It All

[scoupsakakitty]

Just saw your posts the scoups x reader ahhhhh jts so good please continue writing, can i request some more seventeen x reader maybe from another group and the members are teasing them then it turns out they're already talking to each other or they're already together and others would find out accidentally HAHAHA THANK YOU 💖

Secrets and Suspicions | idol!Wonwoo x Reader | fluff

The practice room was alive with energy. The members of Seventeen were scattered across the space, either stretching, joking around, or scrolling through their phones while music played softly in the background. You sat on the couch against the wall, pretending to be invested in whatever video was playing on your screen, but your eyes kept darting toward Wonwoo, who was sitting beside you.

He was close—closer than friends usually sat—and his leg brushed against yours every time he shifted. You could feel the heat of his arm resting casually on the back of the couch, almost as if he wanted to pull you closer but was holding back.

“Y/N, do you want anything from the vending machine?” Wonwoo asked, his voice soft but clear enough to make the others glance in your direction.

“No, I’m okay,” you replied quickly, but your voice betrayed the slight nervousness you felt.

“Since when is Wonwoo so polite?” Minghao teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Seungkwan chimed in. “He doesn’t even ask us if we want something. Are you special or what?”

Your face burned, and Wonwoo just gave a small, calm smile. “Maybe Y/N deserves special treatment.”

His words sent a ripple of surprise through the room.

“What was that?!” Hoshi practically shrieked, dropping into a crouch as if preparing for battle. “Did Wonwoo just flirt?”

“It’s called being nice,” Wonwoo replied nonchalantly, but the tips of his ears were turning pink—something you had noticed happened whenever he got flustered.

“Ohhh, nice, huh?” Joshua grinned, walking over and sitting on the armrest beside you. “You two have been spending a lot of time together lately.”

You tried to brush it off. “We’re just friends.”

“Sure you are,” Vernon said, leaning back against the mirrors with a smirk.

The teasing continued for a few more minutes before the members got distracted by their usual antics. Wonwoo leaned in slightly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “They’re just being themselves.”

He chuckled quietly. “We might not be able to keep this secret much longer.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You and Wonwoo had been dating for a few months now, but neither of you had told anyone—not even the other members. At first, it had been exciting, sneaking around and sharing stolen moments. But now, with the others picking up on little hints, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep up the act.

Wonwoo reached down and briefly brushed his fingers against yours, a silent reassurance that made your chest tighten in the best way.

———————————————————————————-

The next day, you found yourself in the dorms with the members again. This time, they were gathered in the living room playing games while you and Wonwoo sat off to the side, watching.

“Wonwoo, you’re awfully quiet,” Mingyu said, nudging him. “Usually, you’re focused, but today you’re just staring at Y/N.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “I’m not staring.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” Jeonghan added with a sly grin. “And don’t think we haven’t noticed how you two keep whispering to each other.”

“They’re probably just sharing secrets,” Dino said innocently, but even he didn’t sound convinced.

“Secrets?” Seungkwan repeated dramatically. “Like the secret that they’re already dating?”

You choked on your drink, coughing as everyone turned to look at you. Wonwoo patted your back quickly, and that simple gesture only made the situation worse.

“See?!” Joshua pointed at the interaction. “You don’t do that unless you’re close. Really close.”

“Come on, leave them alone,” Woozi said, finally stepping in to rescue you both. But his slight smile told you that even he was suspicious.

Wonwoo, ever the calm one, simply leaned back and said, “Believe what you want.”

That response did little to ease their curiosity. If anything, it made them even more determined to figure it out.

———————————————————————————-

Later that evening, most of the members had left the dorm to grab dinner, leaving you and Wonwoo alone for the first time all day.

“Finally, some peace and quiet,” Wonwoo sighed, leaning back against the couch.

You smiled, leaning a little closer. “Who knew keeping a secret could be this exhausting?”

“Oh, trust me, I know.”

Before you could say anything else, Wonwoo suddenly placed his hands on your hips and gently pulled you onto his lap.

“Wonwoo!” you gasped, but the soft smile playing on his lips made your heart race.

“What? We’re alone,” he said, tilting his head slightly as his eyes flickered down to your lips.

You couldn’t resist him—not when he was looking at you like that. So you gave in, wrapping your arms around his neck as he leaned in.

The kiss started soft and slow, but it didn’t take long for it to deepen. His hands held you firmly, one resting on your waist and the other trailing up to cup your cheek. The world outside faded away as you melted into him, savoring the warmth and comfort of his touch.

Minutes passed, though neither of you seemed to care. That was until—

“We’re back!” Hoshi’s loud voice rang out, shattering the moment.

You jumped off Wonwoo’s lap so fast that you nearly tripped, scrambling to smooth your hair and fix your shirt. Wonwoo leaned back, doing his best to look unbothered, but the faint redness in his ears gave him away.

“Wait a second,” Jeonghan said, freezing in the doorway as his eyes narrowed at the two of you. “Were you two just—?”

“No,” Wonwoo interrupted quickly, his voice calm but a little too quick to deny it.

“Don’t lie!” DK shouted, pointing at you both. “You were totally making out!”

“No, we weren’t,” Wonwoo said again, crossing his arms as if that would somehow make him more convincing.

“Oh, really?” Seungkwan smirked, stepping closer and squinting at Wonwoo’s face. “Then explain why you’re wearing lip gloss.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widened slightly, and his hand instinctively moved to touch his lips. The other members erupted into laughter as your face turned bright red.

“Busted!” Hoshi shouted, practically falling over as he laughed.

“That’s not—” Wonwoo started, but it was no use.

“Nice try,” Joshua teased. “Just admit it already.”

Wonwoo sighed, running a hand through his hair before reaching out to grab yours. “Fine. You caught us.”

The room exploded with cheers, whistles, and playful teasing as you buried your face in Wonwoo’s shoulder, groaning.

———————————————————————————-

By the end of the night, the chaos had died down, and most of the members had gone to bed. Only a few stragglers remained, still asking occasional questions but clearly starting to accept it.

“I can’t believe you managed to keep this from us for so long,” Jeonghan said, shaking his head.

“Me neither,” Mingyu added. “But honestly? You guys are cute together.”

“Thanks,” you said, smiling as Wonwoo squeezed your hand.

When the others finally left, you turned to him. “Well, that went about as expected.”

He laughed softly. “At least now we don’t have to hide anymore.”

You leaned into him, letting the weight of the day melt away. It wasn’t how you had planned for them to find out, but in the end, it didn’t matter.

Because now, you could be together—no more secrets.

And honestly? That was worth all the teasing in the world.

———————————————————————————-

[venus-haze]

Reach Out, Touch Faith (Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader)

Summary: Day 22 - Thigh Riding. Someone to hear your prayers, someone who cares.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. No spoilers for the show in this fic. I finally caught up on Grotesquerie and had to write something for Father Charlie! Shoutout to @leopard-skin-pillbox-hat-ok for even putting this show on my radar. Title comes from Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode.

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Sexually explicit content involving a member of the clergy, thigh riding, some degradation.

Only Father Charlie could walk the line between a wet dream and a saint. You found this out rather quickly after becoming a parishioner. It’d been years since you went to church, but moving to the small town offered little in the way of a social life outside of work, so you swallowed your pride and began showing up to mass, and then getting involved in everything from the soup kitchen to movie nights. He didn’t judge you when you admitted you were there to make friends. In fact, he encouraged it.

“People feel increasingly isolated these days,” he had told you. “The church used to be a place for people to meet and make connections, I’m glad it’s serving you that way. Gives me hope for the future of our parish.”

After just a few weeks, people actually got to know you, to the point where you were invited to get coffee with some or join others for dinner. But in your heart, you knew you were mostly showing up for Father Charlie. Especially since he followed you on Instagram, and you almost considered softblocking him so he couldn’t see what you were up to. Morbid curiosity got the better of you, and you followed him back, dragged to the depths your desire by the videos of him exercising on his feed—his toned muscles flexing, skin glimmering with sweat. Your hand flew to your mouth when he squirted water from a bottle on himself. What the fuck kind of priest even did that?

You could hardly look him in the eye the next time you saw him. When he cornered you after a book club meeting, it was almost like he knew.

“You know, for everything you’re involved in, all of the meetings and events you show up to, I’ve never had you for confession,” he said.

It was the way he said it—had you—that made you take pause. As if his being a priest obscured something close to lust, almost implied consummation.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to know who’s confessing,” you said.

“I’d know your voice.”

“I guess I’m just scared, Father.”

“Of what? God’s judgment?” he asked. “He’s merciful if you bring your sins to Him.”

“More along the lines of what you’ll think of me.”

He smiled. “You haven’t killed anyone, have you?”

“God, no!”

“Well, there’s blasphemy,” he joked. “Come by tomorrow at seven. No one else will be here. No pressure.”

Sitting in the confessional almost made you feel claustrophobic. You didn’t know what to do with your hands, so you folded them across your lap, waiting for Father Charlie to speak from the other side of the screen.

“How long has it been since your last confession?”

You paused, trying to remember an exact date, but nothing came to mind. “A few years, probably.”

“That’s alright. What sins do you bring forward today?”

“I don’t know,” you lied.

“You don’t know?” he repeated incredulously.

“No. I can’t think of anything.”

He scoffed. You could practically see the sneer on his face through the screen. “I can list off some. Pride, selfishness, leading others into temptation—do you have any idea what you’re capable of doing? The depths you can cause a man to sink to? The sins of the flesh proliferate every aspect of our modern lives and you—you just—”

“Father?”

After a few moments of tense silence, he spoke your name softly. “I want you to leave the confessional. If there’s no one around, come over to my side.”

“What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Against your better judgment, you left the confessional and rounded it to the other side. When you opened the door, he looked at you expectantly, curling his pointer and index fingers to beckon you inside.

You hesitated. Almost took a step back, except he reached for you, pulling you in with him. If you thought it was claustrophobic before, your body, cramped in so closely with his, would have been enough to make you anxious on its own, but the proximity, his body heat, his dark brown eyes blazing with a vengeful lust, drew a whine from you when you were maneuvered onto his lap, one of his thick thighs between your legs. You suddenly wished you hadn’t worn a skirt—knee-length, modest enough when you picked it out, but woefully inadequate for the way his hand slipped up it, his fingers brushing your pussy through your panties.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, dripping with arousal in the house of the Lord.”

Rage filled your chest at his taunt. “You have some fucking nerve to accuse me,” you hissed. “Your socials are shameless. I almost thought I was on OnlyFans, the way you flaunt yourself.”

“But you liked what you saw, didn’t you?” he pressed. “Why else would you have come to confession if not for your guilty conscience?” He flexed his muscular thigh beneath you, a pathetic sounding whimper echoing from your lips in the confessional. “Unless you’re only chasing lust, that fleeting, deadly sin.”

“For the love of God, put up or shut up,” you snapped.

He was at a loss for words, then, and letting your pride get the better of you, you kissed him—claiming him was more like it, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip until he shivered beneath you. 

Steadying yourself on his shoulders, you rocked your hips back and forth against his thigh, the friction from the fabric teasing your clit so perfectly, you couldn’t help the cry that tore from your throat until he silenced you with his mouth on yours. Sweat rolled down your back at your exertion, making your blouse stick to your skin, the confessional almost suffocatingly hot.

“Is this what you had in mind, Father?” you mocked, your voice husky and almost cruel, though you knew if anyone walked in, they’d be able to hear. Wouldn’t take very long for a keen listener to figure out what was going on. “Is this my penance?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, his strong hands kneading your ass.

You chased your orgasm, finally finding it when he moaned your name in your ear like a prayer. Rode out your ecstasy on his thigh, a sick thrill rushing through you at the thought of the wet spot you’d leave on his pants, the physical evidence of your debauchery, if the only witness to it was the ever-silent, omnipresent, judging eyes of God.

“Is that all, Father?” you asked breathlessly, glancing down at the prominent tent in his pants.

With a shaky sigh, he leaned his head back, palming his crotch. “Go—go say ten Hail Marys.” 

When you knelt down at the pew just outside of the confessional, you began the first of your penitent prayers with the sound of his groans and soft curses echoing in your ears.

[artsninspo]

THAT’S MUFASAAA 🦁 | TIKTOK REACTION - RIO X READER

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

: ̗̀➛ rio's library - good girl nbc

Summary: This short one-shot explores the viral "Aaron Pierre, that's mufasaaaa" TikTok moment happening right now and how Rio would react to hearing the sound on his lady's phone. Marcus makes an appearance in this one he's about 11 years old.

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word-Count: ~800

Your timelines have been flooded with the handsome stranger ever since the popularity of Rebel Ridge. You’ve never been into violence or action films, but Rio insisted you watch the movie with him on a cozy movie night. As you snuggled into your man’s side, you couldn’t help but notice the actor’s striking eyes and impressive frame. If only that had been the end of it.

For the past week, Marcus had been singing about wanting a brother, leaving his father grinning and watching you the same way a lion eyes an antelope. Marcus had already seen the movie once with his mom—perks of co-parenting. But watching it again in theaters with you and Rio was a second treat.

Rio sat between the two of you, his arms around both as you and Marcus reached into his popcorn bucket, your eyes glued to the big screen. Rio, however, fell asleep halfway through, leaving you and Marcus to enjoy the film. You exchanged excited glances, whispers, and laughter as the action unfolded.

…

A few days later, Rio was on soccer practice duty when he noticed Marcus laughing at his phone.

“What now?” Rio asked, raising an eyebrow.

“The voice actor for Mufasa is going viral,” Marcus chuckled, jogging his father’s memory. The last time something went viral on TikTok, it had been a prank at Rio’s expense.

“For what?” Rio asked, parking in the soccer field lot.

“Women think he’s handsome. Even my mom thinks so,” Marcus said, handing his dad the phone.

Rio watched the harmless video of the actor walking down a hallway to a chorus of women’s cheers. His eyes darted to the flurry of comments, which left him both amused and unsettled.

“That’s not even the funniest part,” Marcus laughed, showing him a parody video of men complaining about the trend.

Rio shook his head, feeling too old to understand the appeal.

“I need to talk to your mom about you having access to this app,” he muttered.

“What? I’m on your side! Now, if you hear it, you’ll know what Y/N is watching,” Marcus teased.

“Y/N ain’t watching that nonsense. Go on and make some goals,” Rio snapped, shaking his head as Marcus laughed, hopping out of the truck.

Still, Rio couldn’t shake his suspicion. He’d heard you humming around the house more than usual, especially songs from the movie. Jealousy crept in, his possessive nature stirring. The only man you should be watching on a loop was him. If not, maybe he wasn’t doing his job at home.

…

After practice, Marcus ran in, hugging you and eagerly recounting his day. Rio watched as you listened attentively, plating food for both of them.

“Hey, baby,” you greeted, tiptoeing to kiss his lips.

“Hey, mama,” he murmured, holding you close.

“Hey, Y/N, been on TikTok lately?” Marcus asked as he sat at the table, his hands freshly washed.

“Not yet today. Did you send me something?” you asked, reaching for your phone.

“Nah, I was just wondering if you saw anything good,” he replied.

“No, just the usual jokes and stuff,” you said with a shrug before sitting down to dinner.

You listened as Marcus chattered about his day. After homework and bedtime, Rio headed to his basement gym, newly inspired, before joining you in bed.

As you scrolled through your TikTok feed, Rio worked on his phone, arranging his schedule.

“Aaron Pierre… that’s Mufasaaaa,” a video played, the chant catching his attention. He glanced at you, noticing the slight smile on your lips.

The sound repeated, and Rio suppressed a groan. Just as he was about to grab your phone, you scooted closer, showing him the screen.

“Baby, look at these guys trying to kill the fun! You know the actor from Rebel Ridge? He’s having a viral moment, and the men are so bitter,” you laughed, showing him parody videos.

Rio smirked, scrolling through the comments. The thirst on display amused him, though he wasn’t thrilled about your interest.

“Do you think he’s fine like the comments claim?” he asked, casually posing the trap.

“I don’t know. I haven’t really paid attention—I have what I want,” you said with a shrug, making him smile.

“Good answer. Now, I don’t want to hear that sound again,” he muttered. “If I do, you and Marcus are getting banned from that app,” he added, sounding like a congressman.

“Yes, Daddy,” you teased, putting your phone on the charger and turning off the lights.

“That’s right,” he said, his voice sleepy.

authors note: ooooh chile, this is such a fun moment for the internet. the girls have been acting up and hellish and i LIVE 😂 first fic of the year. i hope you enjoy 🥰 is this how you think rio reacts or is he crashing out lol?

: ̗̀➛ Loved the story? ❣ Like, ❝ Comment, ↺ Reblog

tags:

@meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana @1xtral1983 @theegoddessofmelanin @fictionalreads @roxytheimmortal

[woso-dreamzzz]

Video III

Meadema x Baby!Reader

Summary: You're the doctor today

"Well, look at you," Viv says with a small smile as you shuffle into the room," Doctor Meadema."

You giggle as you shuffle closer. The white lab coat you're wearing is massive and Viv wonders briefly where Beth has gotten it from. A similarly massive stethoscope hangs around your neck as you finally make your way over to the sofa.

"Doctor!" You repeat with a giggle, poking at the stethoscope before turning around to point at Beth," Mummy!"

"That's right," Viv says," That is Mummy."

You point at Viv. "Mama!"

"I am Mama. Well done and you're Munchkin!"

You nod and Viv hoists you up to sit next to her.

She's stretched out on the sofa, icing her knee from a long day of rehab and you wiggle happily next to her to get comfortable.

You press the stethoscope against her arm and she laughs.

"That's for a heartbeat, silly. Here." Viv adjusts it so it's just over her heart before helping you put the rest of it in your ears so you can listen. "That's my heart beating."

You frown and Viv moves it on top of your heart too.

"And that's your heart beating."

"Heart beating," You repeat," Heart beating!"

"Yeah, that's to show that we're alive. Because our hearts are beating."

You look a little confused briefly before breaking out into giggles when Viv tickles your tummy.

"Alright," Beth says to the door," I'm going out to walk Myle. Munchkin, you want to come?"

You look over at Beth when she speaks. Myle's by her feet, tail wagging happily. She whines a little as Beth delays putting on her harness.

Usually, you go with Mummy and Myle but today you're being a doctor and doctors don't abandon their patients. Mama is your patient today so you'll stay with her.

"With Mama," You say to Mummy who just smiles.

"You have fun with Mama," She tells you before finally securing Myle's harness," Viv, be good for the doctor!"

The front door shuts just as Mama throws a cushion at her.

You look up at Mama and Mama looks down at you. She smiles.

"Your Mummy is very silly sometimes."

Mama's right. Mummy is very silly but Mummy isn't here right now and you need to focus on Mama now.

Her knee is still hurt like it was when you first came home to them. Mummy's knee has gotten better but Mama's is being a bit mean to her.

That's why you're her doctor today in your big coat and your first aid kit.

You clamber over Mama's body to make it to where she's icing her knee.

"Careful, Munchkin," Viv says to you," My knee hurts."

"Kay," You chirp.

Mama said that the stethoscope is for listening to heartbeats but you wonder if you can also use it to listen to Mama's knee. Maybe there are mean little men in Mama's knee making it stay mean to her.

Mummy always says there's mean little men in your nose that keeps it stuffy when you're sick so you think they must be in Mama's knee too.

You press the stethoscope against Viv's bare knee and she jumps a little at the sudden contact.

"Mama," You say," Mean men in knee still mean."

"Oh, yeah?" Viv says," That's not very nice of them. Do you have any treatments, doctor?"

You think for a moment before nodding.

"Uh-huh!"

When you came in with your lab coat and stethoscope, you were also holding a little first aid kit.

Beth had bought it for you when you expressed an interest in one after hanging out with the medics at practice one day. You took it almost everywhere with you.

"Mama!" You cry out," Zip please!"

You take it everywhere with you but you're yet to learn how to actually undo a zip.

Viv smiles fondly, unzipping the little pack so you can rummage through it.

You throw the things you don't want out and Viv has to stifle her laughter, knowing that she's going to be the one picking it all up later.

"Found them!"

Your puppy plasters are your absolute favourite because you think they look like Myle and Myle's amazing. They're special and they're for your boo-boos only.

But you don't mind sharing with Mama.

You rip a handful of plasters open and clumsily place them on Mama's knee.

"What are those for, Munchkin?"

"Doctor," You correct.

Oh, sorry. What are those for, doctor?"

"Fight the mean men," You tell her.

"Well, I hope they do a good job," Viv tells you," But I'd feel better if I got cuddles too."

You hurry to flop onto Mama's chest, where you stay until Mummy and Myle come home.

"Doctor Munchkin's fixing my knee," Viv says as Beth inspects the array of puppy plasters on her knee.

"Oh, wow," Beth says," I'll have to get Doctor Munchkin to fix me up later too. Is that alright for you, doctor?"

You nod. "After Mama cuddles."

[querenciasturniolo]

guest ⮕ m.s.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: swearing, awkward flirting, embarrassment

summary: request

a/n: this was requested by @rainsoakedphoenix, and i had SO much fun writing it (even though it took ages) ! sorry for the mix up, i hope this works 😭💓 i wrote this while watching the new season of heartstopper, which is AMAZING by the way

(this is like 89% dialogue, which i’m sorry if it wasn’t your vision, but i tried my best 🤞🏻)

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

“Good morning campers, and welcome to the Cut the Camera podcast. I’m Nick Sturniolo.”

“I’m Matt Sturniolo.”

“And I’m Chris.”

Your eyes flickered between the three of them, reaching your hands up to adjust your headphones. Nick finally turned his head to you.

“We have a special guest for this episode, introduce yourself.” He said.

You looked at one of the cameras and smiled, lifting your hand to wave.

“Hey, I’m Y/n.” You said, wincing slightly. “Jesus, that was awkward, someone else talk now.” Matt pulled a face, you looking over at him and mocking him playfully.

“Like some of you know, Y/n is one of our good friends from home. She hasn’t been in much of our content because she doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing, but that’s fine, we love her anyway.” Nick said. You scoffed and leaned back in the diner seat, pulling the mic with you.

“It’s not that I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m just an awkward piece of shit.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “S’not my fault your fans love watching me suffer.”

“Well that turned dark. Anyway, Y/n, why don’t you introduce the topic.” Chris said. You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Today we’re talking about how the four of us met, and how I’ve continued to endure their torture for so long.” You paused, Matt’s jaw slack as he looked over at you. You grinned and shook your head. “No, I’m kidding. They’re pretty great, I’m glad they’ve tortured me for this long.”

Chris scoffed. “You love us and you know it.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what I said, but if you want to get all mushy already, then yes, I love you guys.” You said.

Nick awed next to you, Matt leaning over and bumping your shoulder with his.

“You’ve always been the lovey-dovey one. Y/n has called me at like six o’clock on a random Tuesday before just to tell me she was thinking about me.” Nick said. You covered your face with your hands and groaned.

“God, why must you expose me? Let them think I’m dark and gloomy.” You grumbled.

Matt scoffed then, the audio coming through your headphones clear enough for you to peek an eye through your fingers. “None of them think you’re dark and gloomy, they’ve seen you in videos before, dude. Accept the fact that you’re a softy.” He teased, your jaw practically hitting the floor.

The conversation went on like this for about twenty minutes, the four of you talking and bickering back and forth. The conversation ran off the tracks quite a few times, and Matt tried reeling it back in as best as possible.

“So, back to the topic at hand—”

“Nick, what did you say?” Chris asked, completely cutting Matt off.

“I was just saying that was bullshit.” Nick said.

“Guys, what are we even—”

“How is what I just said bullshit?” Chris asked, the both of them in their own little world.

Matt sighed and looked at you, shrugging his shoulders. You turned to face him fully, resting your arm on the back of the booth. “So anyway, what’s an average day in the life of Matt Sturniolo?” You asked. Matt frowned and adjusted himself to face you completely.

“What?” He asked, pulling the mic towards him.

“What’s an average day in your life?” You repeated, raising your eyebrows.

Matt’s frown relaxed as he thought, shrugged, and finally spoke. “I’d say; wake up, shower, eat, go to meetings, come home, go to bed, repeat.” He held his hands out to count on his fingers, your eyebrows raising as you listened, no emotion on your face.

“Wow, riveting.”

Matt scoffed and shook his head, opening his hands and gesturing them towards you. “Please, tell me about your extraordinary day to day schedule, I’d love to hear it.”

“Of course you would. I happen to have a day packed full of important tasks.” You said, lifting your chin sarcastically.

“Oh, really? Name one.” He said, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, I work.” You started, Matt nodding and pursing his lips.

“Oh, you work, do you? And what do you do after that?” He asked, your eyebrows lifting and your jaw going slack.

“Well, if you must know, after work I go home and eat and then shower and go to bed.” You said matter of factly, Matt staring at you completely unamused.

“That has got to be the most boring play-by-play I’ve ever heard.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, and yours was better, Matt?”

“I think so. What do you do for work?” He asked, the corner of his lips turned up in a half smile.

You sighed and shrugged your shoulders. “Retail. It’s not the most glorious job, but it gets the bills paid.”

“Yikes, customer service.” He winced, to which you shrugged your shoulders again.

“Like I said, not the most glorious job. I deal with a lot of dickheads, but the regulars are nice.” You said, grabbing your cup and taking a sip of it. You jutted your chin at him. “It’s your turn to ask a question, I don’t think they’re gonna stop any time soon.”

Matt hummed and thought for a moment. “Um, what’s your favorite color?”

“That’s really the best you could come up with, Matt?” You said, a laugh leaving your lips as he looked at you in mock offense.

“At least it’s not as mundane as ‘what do you do everyday’, Y/n. Cut me some slack, I’m trying here.” He retorted, your hands going up before you answered.

“It’s blue.”

“Lame.” He said, your eyebrows furrowing.

“Matt, that’s literally your favorite color, too.” You said, Matt scoffing.

“You don’t know me.” He mumbled, a laugh bubbling out of you as you adjusted in your seat, scooting the slightest bit towards him.

“I’ve known you my entire life, you dork. That argument is invalid.” You said.

Matt pursed his lips and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, really studying him for the first time in awhile. You reached forward and lightly pinched a lock in your fingers and twirled it. “Your hair is getting long.” You said. There was something in Matt’s eyes that you couldn’t quite place, but the apples of his cheeks were tinged pink.

“Yeah, I need to cut it soon.” He said, his voice quiet.

You nodded your head, letting go of the lock of hair and resting your hand back on the booth centimeters away from his. “If that’s what you want.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he lightly jabbed the tips of your fingers with his.

You paused, realizing how passive it had sounded. You immediately shook your head. “No, oh my God, nothing! It was just an observation.” You said, resting your hand on his.

“So you wouldn’t care if I shaved my head?” He asked, mischief glinting in his eyes. Somehow, your fingers ended up entwined, but both of your palms were resting on the back of the booth. It was comfortable, but new, and you didn’t know exactly how to navigate this. You shrugged your shoulders and pulled your headphones off of your head and rested them around your neck.

“I wouldn’t care, no. Just because I think your hair looks cute long, doesn’t mean I’m going to freak out if you change it.” You said honestly. Matt blinked, processing your words before he replied.

“You think my hair looks cute long?” He asked. You nodded your head, ignoring the burning in your face.

“That is what I just said, yes.” You said, trying to sound like it was no big deal

“Wow, admitting you think I’m cute on recording? That’s crazy.” You could tell he was teasing, and by the color of his cheeks, you could tell he didn’t mind.

You cocked an eyebrow, tilting your head to the side as your smile grew. “Are we just going to ignore the fact that you’ve been practically holding my hand for this entire conversation?”

“I haven’t?” He said, immediately pulling his hand from yours and resting it in his lap, his eyes darting downward. You smiled and shook your head, teasingly gesturing around the room.

“Matt, it’s literally on camera, from multiple angles.” You said, Matt’s eyes meeting yours. He studied your face and eventually smiled and rolled his eyes, the awkward tension he was radiating before slowly dissipating.

“Yeah, okay, whatever.” He mumbled, adjusting his headphones before meeting your eyes again. You opened your mouth to speak, but were quickly interrupted.

“Oh my God, this is honestly disgusting.”

You whipped your head around to Nick, your eyes wide as he met you with an incredulous stare.

“You guys have been flirting like, the entire time. I’m surprised I haven’t thrown up yet.” He finished, your face on fire as your eyes flickered to Chris’ amused smile.

“Honestly, Nick and I stopped arguing like, five minutes ago. We just wanted to see how long it would take the two of you to notice.” You looked back at Matt, who was awkwardly laughing into his hands and shaking his head. “Clearly, way too fucking long. Can we get back to the topic of our joint childhoods now?” Chris finished.

You cleared your throat and nodded, adjusting yourself in the booth so you were facing forward and your shoulder was to Matt.

“Where were we again?” You asked, Nick jumping into the conversation effortlessly.

The rest of the podcast went smoothly, the four of you in almost perfect harmony for the rest of the time, the little embarrassing interruption nearly forgotten.

It was nearly forgotten until Matt’s hand rested over yours under the table and entwined with yours. You felt your face heat up and the corners of your mouth twitch, but you didn’t say anything or make anything obvious.

Matt was your best friend, and as affectionate as the two of you were, hand holding was never on the list until now—and honestly, you didn’t mind.

[couch-potato28]

Imagine being a Blue Lock manager! ⚽

Prologue

(a/n: Hey everybody! First time writing here, so please 🙏 excuse my poor looking posts and grammatical errors /let me know if u see any!!/ English is not my first language so pls take that into account O.O tyy ❤️) WARNING!-there's i think one swear word

wc: 2.8 k words im sry really, like i yap a lot 😭

ALSO: please let me know if you're interested in the continuation

Imagine that in addition to your logical thinking, communicational skills and physical performance, Blue Lock also tests your mental health, because if you excel in these 4 areas, you might be worthy to become a manager of one of their players. However, competing with 199 other girls who are going through the same ordeal, let's admit, doesn't really calm your nerves. But how did you even end up in Blue Lock in the first place?

—————— Saturday morning, sitting in the corner of a nearby coffee shop, with your books open, laptop fully charged, your phone on silent mode with of course, a cup of caffeine on the side, you are ready to conquer those history notes. You had already started to memorize everything the previous week, so today was really about practicing and revising. After cracking your back and sipping some coffee, you began reading the first few lines on your laptop, occasionally peeking at the highlighted parts of your book in case you got stuck.

Time passed quickly, and when you looked at the clock on your phone screen, it turned out that you had been repeating ridiculously difficult names, dates, places and events which were described in an awful lot of detail for exactly 1 hour and 32 minutes. Seeing that, you decided to take a well-deserved break, which actually just consisted of texting and watching funny cat videos.

Closing your laptop and books, you gave yourself half an hour to rest, so that time wouldn't double leading to you procrastinating and forgetting everything you'd just revised. Reaching for your phone and turning off the silent mode, you started reading the few messages that had come in during your study session. Most of them were sent from your best friend, briefly stating that she had fallen asleep and will probably have stay up all night to cramp whatever material she can get into her head, hoping that she somehow manages to pass on Monday.

“Told ya to set an alarm >:( Well, you should have accepted my offer to study together HAHAHA good luck btw :D”-you wrote in response, feeling kinda sorry for her. Then you went straight to your emails after seeing a notification, where you found a recently received message with a strange title.

“BLUE LOCK INVITATION”

What the hell is Blue Lock? And why did you get an invitation? Your initial thought was that it’s a scam and were trying to delete the email if your stupid finger hadn’t slipped, making it press and open the email. Great, now your eyes were glued to the screen, trying to read whatever was on the message.

“Dear L/N Y/N!

We are honored to invite you to the Blue Lock Manager Training Program, where you will be granted the chance to work with one of our future star football players. We hope you will consider the offer because this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. If you are interested, please come to the following address and time.

Any further questions will be answered on-site!

Blue Lock Assistant and Health Manager,

Anri Teieri”

Um, what the fuck. Yeah, doesn’t sound sketchy at aaall…as you read the letter over and over again, trying to make sense of it, not understanding how they even knew about your existence in the first place and more importantly…how did they get your email address? Although that wasn’t the point, it piqued your interest. You had so many questions yet you could only get answers on the spot.

“Smart tactic.”-you said, before browsing the internet to find something about this Blue Lock project. About 20 minutes later though, you leaned back into your chair and sighed in defeat as there was not a single thing about Blue Lock at all. The only thing you had was this quite fancy looking email.

Finishing the rest of your coffee, you began to think about the offer and whether or not to go. Your current job wasn’t good neither was the payment, which is why you recently had to take on a second job. But from what you read about the program, if you were to actually work with a soon to be star football player, the pay would probably be high. Plus, how hard can it be to manage a person, right?

After thoroughly thinking about the offer, you decided to give it a chance. Finishing the rest of your work, you came home and talked to your parents somehow persuading them to agree. Later that day you also informed your best friend as well. The weekend passed as you successfully finished your history exam on Monday and then you headed straight to the so-called Blue Lock building, the very next day. ——————

That's how you ended up in your current situation. On your first day there, they led you to a big hall with a bunch of people. To be specific, young girls around your age. Looking around for a bit, you realized that there were a lot of girls indeed, but no boys in sight. Finding it a bit strange, but shrugging it off, you turned around to face a huge stage, where moments later a pink-haired woman appeared, whose name you assumed and now know is Anri, introduced herself and greeted you from a big podium with a mic in her hand.

Finishing the brief intro she then continued with a very thorough and detailed speech, revealing that if you agreed to the conditions of the program, you would technically be locked up in the building for the next 3 months and would participate in intensive training, where you potentially could be eliminated for poor results.

“There goes my money…”-you thought, since you never really cared about football in your life nor did you know anything about it. Which in retrospect, you should have done or researched a bit before coming here since you applied to be a football player's manager after all.

“Well, it doesn't matter now anyway.”-you told yourself for some comfort. After Anri had finished her monologue, she instructed everyone that:

“If you agree and ready to take on the challenge then please go through this door!”-pointing with her microphone at a huge dark blue door that was slowly opening.

Hesitating a bit, you thought about all the possible things that could go wrong, but after a not-so-long train of thoughts you managed to convince yourself. Also that little push by a girl running towards the doors sealed the deal for you as you slowly started to walk towards the unknown.

“I mean, what can I lose, right? My sanity is gone already and even if I get eliminated, I'm just going to go back to my normal life again”-you whispered and with a small grin you officially entered Blue Lock.

To your surprise, the facility was quite clean and not to mention huge since most likely somewhere on the other side of the building, boys were kicking balls and running laps. Following the others, you arrived in what you assumed was a large waiting room with multiple TV screens on the walls. After managing to squish yourself through the crowd, a sudden voice spoke from the speakers and an egg-headed guy with a strangely perfect bowl cut appeared on the screens, introducing himself.

“Hello, diamond grinders! My name is Jinpachi Ego, the coach of the players in Blue Lock and the overall boss of the facility. I guess you already know why you’re here so I won’t bother with that anymore. First, let’s start with a quick count, which is...currently 200 people.”-he said and you looked around with wide eyes. The fact is, there were indeed many people besides you, but you didn't think such a large amount of them would participate.

'Pfft, no worries…'-you encouraged yourself, realizing that you’d probably get kicked out on the second day, if not today. You looked up to the screens again, and bowl cut continued.

“Out of these 200 people, the best performers will be given the best athletes to work with. But! You have to know what you’re doing. From now on, every minute of your time will be spent, from morning to night according to a routine and the underperformers will be eliminated. Understand?”

You nodded unconsciously, following those around you. This was serious and there was no turning back now. Even so looking at that man’s gaze as he spoke somehow made you shiver a little.

'What have I gotten myself into?'-the question suddenly popped into your head, making you doubt for a moment, if you being here was truly a good decision, but Ego's voice immediately made you get back on track.

“Great. Let’s start with a quick summary then. First, you will be divided into 20 teams, 10 people each. This division was based on your current abilities, but they can change over time while you’re here. Each week, the levels to pass are going rise and be harder, and those who can't pass will automatically fail and get eliminated."-he said leaning back into his chair.-"Next, is the routine which the assistant will tell you about in detail later. The goal here in Blue Lock besides creating football players, is to produce ideal managers who have the perfect skills and attitude to fit with them, and to maintain their level, helping them until the end of their careers.-he suddenly raised his index finger and the screens showed what looked like an animation of whatever he was about to say.-"This includes, one: Strategic and logical thinking, two: A healthy and fit body and three: The highest levels of media and communication! If you perform well in these three main areas, then a job and the experience of a lifetime are guaranteed! Don't disappoint me! Now lock off and goodbye for now!”

With that, the egg-headed man finished his speech, disappearing from the screens and Anri, with a microphone in her hand, started to divide everyone up, while handing out papers with our new weekly routine printed on it. Seems like you have been assigned to group number 10. That's not bad, but were your abilities really worth as much to be a team 10 member? So far you have only (tried) to manage your own life and your current football knowledge was equal to zero. But there was no time left for further thoughts, because after receiving the uniform you had to immediately start on the first task according to your assigned routine for the day.

—————— Okay. This was harder than you thought. Wiping off the sweat from your forehead, you started running your seventh lap around the damn track again.

"I’m gonna pass out.”-you muttered under your breath, as your newly made friend, you’d just met a few days ago appeared next to you.

“Same, I'm too tired to be running around in the morning!”-she replied, and after a few seconds the sound of a whistle was heard, signaling the end of the first part of the warm-up. Well, today was going to be long again.

Your new routine consisted of starting your mornings at exactly 7 am with physical exercises and then, you had a quick breakfast. After that you had to start on some brain work tasks for the day, followed by communication class and lunch. A 15 minute break later, media and IT started and before finishing the day with a small workout again, were language lessons waiting for you. Yes. You also had to learn languages.

Unfortunately not just one, not two or three, but four fucking languages in which you had to reach a basic level. At least the variety was good, since now you knew how to say hello in French, German, Italian and Spanish. (multilingual queen slay) And then based on those you could decide which one you wanted to work on more and reach at least an intermediate level. If that was not enough, the knowledge of English was also mandatory, but at an advanced level. Also for every other day there were talks, activities and tasks about basic football for those (like you ^_^) to have a grasp on the topic. So there you were, in full uniform everyday for the last two months, suffering through training.

It almost hurts to admit, but on some days you started to miss your simple, slightly boring school life. Thinking back to your friends and parents who you hadn't talked with in a while, to those boring classes and your warm bed. Training was hard since other than having to excel at the 3 fields, worrying that you could get eliminated at any moment, if you lacked behind was stressing you out even more than you already were. On top of that, seeing that some of the girls were kicked out of the building was saddening, yet it worked like a charm to make you work even harder to survive till the end.

Sure, it’s not like it wasn’t good here since you arrived. Luckily, you quickly adapted to the new environment, getting used to the shared bathrooms, roommates, the extreme routines and plans you had to follow and the surprisingly good canteen food. But the lack of 'fresh air'of the bustling Tokyo, the crowded places, the subways and the fact you could sleep in on the weekends certainly made a void in your heart. The mountains were a beautiful view, but you started to get bored of them after a while.

That's how you usually spent the rest of your days with. Time also flew a lot quicker with your new friends who you suffered with together until they finally announced the end of the program, ordering everyone to gather in the waiting room. Everybody arrived on time and just a few minutes later bowl cut finally appeared on the screens again. —————— “Yo, diamond grinders! Congrats on surviving till now. Looking at your data and statuses, I'm pretty much satisfied with everyone. Well, it doesn't matter now, since the results are already decided.”-Ego said in a voice that lacked emotions yet again. Still the boredom and lack of sleep were evident on his face, noticing his eye bags and the empty cups of ramen in the background that he didn't even bother to clean up. He coughed a little before continuing.-“After analyzing every single one of you on each field, I have decided on which player to assign you, based on these factors and scores. Let's start now, shall we?"-he asked and a little icon of the first girl who was about to be assigned, appeared on the TV screens, showing her name and the team she belonged to.-"First of all, congratulations to Aiko Hashimoto…”-he said a girl's name that felt unfamiliar to you, and then went on with, what you assumed was the player's jersey number and the name of who she would be managing from now on. Meanwhile on the big screens the footballer's little icon made an appearance as well next to Aiko's.

Ego soon continued with announcing the girls by their rank and time seemed to slow down the moment he started speaking again. After a while, at least 20 minutes have passed, yet your name was nowhere to be heard. Even your closest friend was now assigned to some boy, while you were still waiting for your turn. 'Did you do that well? Maybe they just forgot to kick you out.'-you assumed after another 5 minutes passed. Listening to Ego as he was still announcing names, you glanced around at the remaining girls who seemed confident while standing, not hearing their names yet. They seemed certain that they were getting one of the top players you thought, while you, yourself were still unsure who you would end up with. Before any more thoughts could occupy your mind, the sound of a familiar name hit your ears.

“Next up is L/N Y/N.”-you heard from the speakers and finally your little icon also turned up on the screens. Oh my gosh, it’s you! Wait who was before you again? What numbered player are we even at now?!

Blinking twice, you looked up to the main screen, staring at the miniature doddle of you, while Ego was about to say the lucky guy's name you were going to work with. A sudden rush of excitement and worry began to overwhelm you, anxiously waiting to hear the fruit of your 3 months of suffering. Sure, you did do well in all areas required and even gained some knowledge about football in general, but was it enough? Every girl here did their best, trying equally hard, afraid of missing the opportunity of a lifetime and getting kicked out of the facility.

You gulped ready to hear whatever and whoever was waiting for you on the other side of Blue Lock. Ego’s voice rang through the waiting room as he said the following:

“Congratulations L/N Y/N! Based on your results, you've earned your place in Blue Lock as the manager of player number…”

(Oh my gosh, this was a long one, hope you guys enjoyed it ^^; i wasn't sure about this story since it's my first one, so pls let me know if you are interested in a continuation and tell me, who you think will get u as their manager? (★‿★) tyy

[kaces-graham-crackers]

Stirring the Quiet - Sweet Mistakes

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: In the bustling streets of Hollywood, The Daily Grind café offers solace to those seeking peace—famous or not. Y/N, co-owner of the cozy shop, wasn't expecting a masked Jenna Ortega, a regular, hiding in plain sight. Is it just you, or did the spilled sugar not turn out to be the only thing that sweetened your day?

Word Count: 1.1k

The smell of espresso hit me like a warm hug the second I opened the door to The Daily Grind. We'd only been open for three weeks, but the place already felt like my second home. Wilma, my best friend and now business partner, had really nailed it with the cozy vibe— mix of warm lighting and cushy chairs that practically begged you to sit down and spill your deepest secrets into a cup of coffee. We were doing pretty well for ourselves. A lot of it had to do with how we ran things. We prided ourselves on being a low-key spot where even the biggesr stars could come in and out without anyone batting an eye. No paparazzi, No instagram Stans, just people famous—or not trying to enjoy their coffee.

We've had a few people challenge our "No photos, videos, or interrupting other customers of any caliber." rule—a sign clearly displayed at the top of the menu and outside the café. The moment a camera was raised, we'd calmly walk over and politely ask them to leave. If that didn't work, we had a quiet agreement with the boutique's security guard next door—one glare from him, and they usually scurried off. Our café was a sanctuary, and no one would ruin that for our customers. After all, our motto was "We serve coffee, not fame. Take a sip." Today had been like any other day: customers trickling in, ordering their usual, and leaving with smiles. But something was different tonight. Maybe it was the way the door chimed a little softer than usual or the quick sound of shuffling footsteps. I didn't look up right away, as I was too busy balancing a stack of to-go cups while trying not to trip over that corner of the rug that always seemed to curl up, which, let's be honest, was my usual struggle. But I felt it—a shift in the atmosphere. Someone was trying way too hard not to be noticed. I peeked over my shoulder just in time to catch a figure in a hoodie, sunglasses, and a face mask slipping into the booth in the back corner.

I chuckled lightly, nearly knocking over the cups I had stacked. Of course, someone who tried not to stand out only made them stand out more. But hey, this was Hollywood; people like to stay incognito. I walked up beside Wilma as she finished giving a customer their order. She was also watching the spectacle; Wilma leaned in, wiping her hands on a towel. "That hoodie's been here three times this week. Any hunch who it could be?" We, of course, leave celebrities alone here, but we like to talk between ourselves to try and figure out who it is. I shake my head. "No, but they're definitely someone. No one hides like that unless they're trying not to be recognized." Wilma smirked. "Duh—You can tell by how they keep looking over their shoulder." Our eyes met, and she gave me a knowing look. Her smirk grew into a giant grin. "Your turn, mascot," she said, tossing her towel over her shoulder as she walked away. I blinked, confused. "Wait, what? What is that supposed to mean?" She stopped briefly. "Maybe you'll have better luck talking to them. After all, you are the people's favorite barista and a great icebreaker. She looks anxious, so work your little charisma magic." And with that, she disappeared into the back, leaving me staring at the mysterious figure, wondering how I'd gotten roped into this.

As I walked over, I flipped to a new page in my notepad and repeated my mantra when serving customers: Treat everyone the same, whether they're the guy from down the street or some A-lister hiding from the world. No fuss, no fanfare. I tried to stay calm not to scare them out of the café. There was no need to be weird or awkward about it I'm just going to—oh. As I slid up to the table, I managed to knock over the sugar container. Smooth, Y/N. Real smooth. With a quick glance, I crouched down to pick it up, hoping I hadn't drawn attention to either of us. When I stood back up, the figure in the hoodie had their head down, but I could feel them watching me. Great, now I spooked them. "Uh, sorry about that," I chuckled nervously, brushing the sugar off my apron. "That usually only happens on Wednesdays, more than I'd like to admit." A soft giggle escaped from under the mask. Before I could attempt to piece the giggle to a voice she pulled down her mask just enough for me to see her face.

Jenna Ortega.

I blinked, not sure why my brain of all times decided to short-circuit now.

Jenna—freakin'—Ortega was sitting in my café, laughing at my stupid joke.

"Don't worry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've seen worse." I swallowed, trying to play it cool, even though my hands were suddenly very sweaty. "Uh, yeah, sorry about that. I wasn't expecting..." I trailed off, realizing how dumb I sounded. I mean, who was I expecting? Jenna looked around cautiously, lowering her mask completely once she realized no one had recognized her. "I just...needed to get away for a bit. You guys are pretty discreet." I nodded, my heart still racing. "Yeah, absolutely. This is a judgment-free zone. No one here will treat you like, you know...you." A soft smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and I tried not to stare. "Good. I could use a place like that right now." "Well, you found it," I said, sending her a warm smile. "Is the other barista not here today?" she asked, fumbling with the strings of her hoodie. "Wilma? Yeah, she's hiding in the back. I can go get her if you'd like?" she softly cleared her throat, "No, that's alright, she just knows my usual." "Well, I promise not to screw it up." I smiled, flipping back to a blank notepad page. "Alright, I'll hold you to that. I'll have an iced coffee with caramel and whipped cream." She smiled back at me. I nodded, jotting it down and turning back to the counter. "Coming right up." As I worked on her drink, I couldn't help but glance back over. There she was, sitting quietly, reading a book with her headphones around her neck, looking a lot more calm. Just another person needing some space and quiet in a world of phones, lights, and cameras 24/7. It felt great that our little café was something special for people. Not just because of the stars who might show up but because we somehow created a space where people could just be. And that? That was worth all the spilled sugar in the world.

[ariichive]

crossed wires

k. kenma ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹🍒

fluff | misunderstandings (nothing serious) | reader has a rbf | mutual pining | cursing | fem. reader

this is a cute idea i had; i thought kenma would be a good fit for this ;p

"kenma, how do you not see what everyone else does?"

kuroo's teasing voice rung through Kenya's mind. it was like an alarm going off on an early school day. please, just be quiet. kenma stared at the giant 'GAME OVER' on his console; his irritation with his best friend seemingly growing.

"clearly, you're not seeing correctly. you sure your hair isn't cutting off any brain cells?" kenma mumbled as he pettily shut off his console. his eyebrow twitching when he heard the familiar snicker from the tall captain next to him.

"dude.. that's like.. not possible."

kenma did not have the energy to respond.

the two friends continued on their walk home after a long practice. kuroo, the whole walk there, had been nonstop bickering about the 'not so obvious but totally obvious' admirer he had: (name). admirer was not the term he would use. if anything, it was more like a butcherer stranded on a meat farm with nothing but a meat saw and an empty stomach. maybe even like one of the villains from his game; the ones with a deep rooted trauma causing an untamable hatred for the player. well, in kenma's case he was the poor player and you were the villain.

it all started in the beginning of the new school year. new faces in a new classroom. usually, kenma never really paid attention to his classmates. sure, he gave them a typical rundown and would decide to judge them based on first impressions for the rest of their lives. then boom, he would eventually forget their names come the second week of school. they didn't talk to him, he didn't talk to them.

that was hard to do when you, a classmate who sat diagonally behind him, would constantly feel stares at the back of his head. one time, he seen the reflection of your murderous gaze in his gaming console and he damn near flinched.

did he accidentally do something to you in the past? he tried to put a name to the girl with (eye color) eyes and (lip color) lips, but nothing was ringing a bell in his head.

because of this, he started to pay more attention to you.

when lunch would roll around, you would become joyful with friends, a rather pretty smile on your face. this was when he heard one of them say your name in a fit of laughter. (name). he repeated a few times in his head. kenma thought it was a nice change of scenery; his heart even skipped a little. and then when you felt eyes on you, turning and making eye contact with the quiet boy in your class, your face dropped.

it looked like a mix of both fear and absolute horror before morphing into a stone faced, angry expression.

yeah, you definitely hated him.

at first, he kept these interactions a secret from kuroo; truly not wanting to become a victim to the already relentless teasing.

until the one day you so happened to take the same train as them. today just had to be different.

kenma was set on ignoring you. he was locked into his video game: a PVP fighting game with unlockable characters and an online ranking system. kuroo usually would have ignored kenma's gaming; it was second nature to him after all. but of course, today was different.

"care to tell me why you're playing an online game with no internet?" kuroo pointed out as he stared at the constant loading circle making zero progress on kenma's screen.

kenma snapped out of whatever trance he was in and looked up at his friend with wide eyes. "...no." kuroo hummed in response, taking a quick look around the train. that is when he seen a sight that he never thought he'd witness. a girl staring at kenma with practical hearts in her eyes.

"kenma.. that girl is totally checking you out."

kenma's face contorted into one of disgust and confusion as he looked in the direction kuroo was only to make eye contact with you.

"kuroo, if that's how girls look at you i think you're never going to get married." kenma quickly shook his head and avoided looking back at you with everything in his body. "what? i know what i'm talking about. listen to me, i'm older and wiser." kuroo smirked arrogantly.

"she is the definition of if looks could kill."

"so you think she's pretty?"

kenma paused, his brain not really processing kuroo's words.

"that's not what i..."

pretty?

he hesitantly glanced at you again. with a closer look, he noticed how you fiddled with your hair when you looked at him. the way brows were furrowed, and the way your leg bounced.

it kinda looked like.. you were nervous?

"...meant?"

by the time he realized how long he was looking at you, his stop was already here, leading to his current predicament of kuroo's constant teasing and shitty advice.

"he.. HE DEFINITELY LIKES ME!"

you screamed into your pillow with a heated face. after rolling around for a few minutes to calm yourself down, you laid on your bed facing your ceiling.

you first noticed kenma during a rather boring lesson. the teacher's voice was draining all your energy, and it was getting harder to keep your eyes open. your eyes found focus on the boy in front of you, who had bleached hair and questionable posture.

he was playing a video game hidden in a book on his desk. you glanced up at the teacher one more time, making sure he was distracted. you watched as the boy played effortlessly through levels of a game you didn't know the name of.

before you knew it.. the school day ended.

it became a ritual for you, staring at his game after lazily taking notes. it came to the point where it felt like you were playing the game yourself. every time he would die and have to restart, you felt the anger and frustration for him.

a character would die? you'd silently weep for the fallen character since it seemed like he didn't give a fuck. and if he did, he wasn't one to show it casually on his face.

the most he ever showed (that you noticed, anyway) were subtle stretches of his legs, a twitch in his finger, and a knuckle pop.

or when he won after a tedious battle a sigh of relief, his shoulders dropping.

so maybe your facial expressions were a bit.. emotional compared to his and definitely not as subtle.

it didn't help that whenever the boy, who's name you learned was kenma, would look at you, your body immediately froze and you tried to get your face as normal looking as possible; not realizing what might've seemed normal to you was terrifying to kenma.

he wouldn't hold eye contact for so long before going back to whatever he was doing, much to your pleasure.

the train ride today was a change in your relationship with kenma.

why didn't he look away like normal?

it was a change yes, but not a bad one.

with delusional friends encouraging the idea, you've come to the conclusion that kenma kozume has a crush on you.

sure, maybe you were exaggerating. but any high school girl would, it's part of growing up! you justified this in your head.

and maybe you weren't too far off from the truth. his sneak glances during the school day allowed him to see the happy expression on your face when he reached an ending of the game. the look of anticipation when he was going through his game library; trying to find a new game to play after beating the last.

one he liked most, though, was the look of shock when he angled his console perfectly out of view from the teacher, but in a position for you to see more clearly.

pls reblog and like if u enjoyed it!

kinda proof read kinda didn't lol sorry 4 any errors

[kitasgloves]

"You are in love"

tracklist

— ♬ "And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars. And why I've spent my whole life tryin' to put it into words"

— ♬ Kuroo x Reader, timeskip, SFW, fluff, gen reader, high school friends to lovers, no beta

One look, dark room, meant just for you. Time moved too fast, you played it back. You see buttons on a coat and remember a lighthearted joke, back then it had no proof and it was not much but you saw enough. When you were younger, you had trouble making friends. You used to believe that there was something wrong with you and that nobody was willing to stay and play, for a long time you coped with that. Being alone. Until high school went up and changed everything.

You didn't originally want to go to Nekoma High, you were aiming for Fukurodani Academy or even Itachiyama Institute. But you ended up going to Nekoma which you admit you hated at first. You had the potential to be in more prestigious schools in Tokyo but at least you ended up in one of the higher class sections during your first year. In terms of academics, there was no hassle. You went through every homework, classwork, presentation, and even group activity like a breeze. However, in terms of social life, you offer nothing but silence.

You couldn't connect with anyone in your class, they were kind people but there was no one who you see willing to open up to you and vice versa. It felt like your childhood and middle school all over again, you always ended up alone. But you were fortunately wrong. It was a fateful day during lunch and you were eating alone when you spotted a shadow over your head. And you saw him, feline-like eyes and bedhead hair. He offers you an eager smile.

"Mind if I sit here with you?"

He asks and you nod. He sits across from you and pulls out his lunch. He looked taller and older than you. The way he behaved around you told you how he was comfortable with approaching strangers, and you stopped eating.

"You're Kenma's seatmate, right?"

"Oh, you mean Kozume-san?"

"Yep! He didn't go to school today, he got sick"

"You know him?"

"We're childhood best friends, we sorta tell each other everything. I'm Kuroo Tetsuro, by the way"

"I'm [Surname], [Surname] [Name]"

Kuroo seems so eager to get to know you. Your first lunch shared with Kuroo left you puzzled, you're convinced it was only a one-time occurrence. But it repeated, again, and again. And it turned into a routine, for months until the entirety of your first year. You and Kuroo became friends, something you never anticipated. You two became so close that it felt natural. By the time you reached your second year, you and Kuroo were inseparable.

He convinced you to join the boys' volleyball club as a manager. Kenma became the witness to all your shenanigans with his childhood best friend. Because of Kuroo, you changed. You've learned to open up to people, you've become the person you are today thanks to him. Your friendship with Kuroo got you through the hardships in high school up until graduation. The two of you remained close after he left for college and the beginning of your third year. You and Kuroo consistently kept in touch until it was your turn to leave Nekoma for college.

You haven't heard from each other ever since and you've made a new life in college. You gained new experiences, new friends, and new challenges to overcome. Even if you and Kuroo drifted apart, there wasn't a day that you don't wonder where he is right now. By your last year in college, you began to miss him. To miss the memories you had with him in high school. Watching movies, playing video games with Kenma, volleyball practice, and having sleepovers. You had a major case of nostalgia when you went through your old photos back in high school, there were Polaroids of you and him on his graduation that never fail to make you tear up.

College ended as your career began. You found a stable job that paid enough to sustain yourself, and that's when you began trying to reconnect with Kuroo. You also found out through a colleague that Kenma became a YouTuber, rising in popularity. All it took was a quick DM to his Instagram account and you got Kuroo's contact number (thankfully, Kenma still recognizes you). Apparently, he works at the Japan Volleyball Association within the Sports Promotion division. Something you knew he would definitely pursue. 

It was close to midnight when you contemplated calling up his number, a million scenarios flooded your head. He could be already asleep, he doesn't know your number so he might not answer, or maybe he has already forgotten you. Your chest goes tight at the last thought. But you suck in a deep breath and dialed Kuroo's number. You held your phone against your ear and stared down at your Polaroid picture with him in your hand, it was one taken during your eighteenth birthday.

"Hello?"

You hear his voice in the line and your throat goes dry. It felt like your heart came to a screeching halt before it began racing after realizing the situation. You let out a shaky breath.

"Hi, Tetsuro"

"...[Name]? Holy shit [Name] is that you?!"

He sounds so excited and it causes tears to blur your vision. You let out a relieved chuckle knowing Kuroo hasn't forgotten about you. Immediately, you and him began talking and catching up on each other's lives. There was a brief exchange of apologies for letting the years go by without keeping in touch, but there were no grudges held and all was forgiven. 

"Where is your place? I'll pick you up, let's get coffee!"

"Sure"

It began snowing outside as you wrapped yourself in your thickest clothes. You waited in front of your apartment complex and saw a car pull up minutes later. The windows roll down and your heart leaps out of your chest. It was Kuroo Tetsuro, your high school best friend. He was grinning at you like he always did back then. He kept his signature bedhead hair and the only difference was he seemed to look more charming than he was during high school. You smile as he opens the passenger door for you.

You sat in the passenger seat in quietness while smiling at each other, it truly felt like nothing had changed. Small talk and he drives. You two grab coffee at midnight. You and Kuroo stood against each other under the snow, sipping on coffee and laughing. The lampost light reflects the chain on your neck, Kuroo's eyebrows raised.

"Look up"

He says, and your shoulders brushed. It was no mistaking it. You were still wearing the necklace he gave you on your eighteenth birthday. You couldn't tell if the cold made his ears red or something else. No proof, one touch. But seeing Kuroo slide closer to you made you feel enough.

Something has changed, you couldn't point out what it was but something wasn't the same with you and Kuroo. The two of you spent a whole month making up for lost time. If it was possible, it seemed like the two of you became even closer. Perhaps closer than him and Kenma, but it felt way more different. You began noticing the shift in your and Kuroo's relationship one morning when you woke up at his place after spending the night drinking. You smell burnt toast in the kitchen and it was a Sunday. You keep his shirt, and he keeps his word. And for once, you let go, of your fears and your ghosts. One step, not much. But it said enough.

You feel the change transform you and Kuroo uncontrollably. This felt nothing like high school anymore. Kuroo was getting closer and closer each time and you welcomed it. You've never felt so comfortable with anyone in your life. This is proved when Kuroo and you began kissing on sidewalks. You knew you'd never find someone like Kuroo in your life, so whenever you two would fight, you two would always talk.

However, everything comes into full circle one night when Kuroo wakes. He spent the night at your apartment and slept beside you. You stirred awake and you see the strange look on his face. He looks at you deep into your eyes, you gaze back with bated breath. He pauses.

"[Name], you're my best friend"

He says. And you knew what it was, he was in love. He's in love with you. So you instantly leaned against him and shared a long gentle kiss. For a long time, you felt like you two were dancing in a snow globe 'round and 'round. And now he keeps a picture of you in his office downtown. And understand why you spent your whole life trying to put it in two words. But you can hear it in the silence. You can feel it on the way home. You can see it with the lights out. You didn't see it back then but now it becomes crystal clear; you're in love, true love. You're in love with Kuroo Tetsuro.

"I think I fell in love with you the moment you gave me this necklace for my eighteenth birthday"

"Oh. Well, I think I fell in love with you when I sat with you for lunch back at high school for the first time"

"You're lying"

"No! Ask Kenma! I just didn't know it back then. But now, when you called me up after what felt like ages, I knew I didn't want to be in love with somebody else"

"Ew, cheeseball"

"Shut up! Look at you, being so in love with me!"

"As if you aren't more terribly in love with me, Tetsu"

"I wouldn't want it any other way, darling"

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 17

Part 17:

The silence in Liana and Patrick's room had a static tint. Like hearing a sound from an old song over and over again but not knowing which song it is. A familiar but distant feeling. A repression that explodes in your face. Over and over and over again.

The knowledge that she was alone made it easier for her to release the tears, as if in this characterless room, in the fancy hotel, she could allow herself to be well…herself. And all she wanted right now was to lie on the bed in a fetal position and cry over the years she wasted. Over the time that won't come back. Over wrong choices. Over mistakes. Mistakes. Mistakes. So many mistakes. Why couldn't she be one of those people who shout "bingo" after exactly three rounds? Why does everything have to be complicated? Why does someone else always win?

Patrick came in late. As if he wasn’t even trying to hide what he did. Liana fell asleep easily, it was past midnight, and he expected her to be asleep. To his surprise, the light was on and Liana was packing a suitcase. "Lilo, what's going on?" He swallowed hard. He didn't see her face but his heart was racing, 'You know what's going on.' "Lilo," her voice was quiet, and sarcasm washed over her like the last of the cynics as she chuckled while repeating the nickname.

"Where were you, Patrick?" She turned to him, and he swallowed hard. She was swollen and red from crying and anger, and like always, all her emotions were displayed on her face like a billboard. He had seen her contempt for him before, but not like this. Not with such determination.

"Liana," he closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing. "Be a man and say it," she said, not moving, continuing to look vaguely at him, past him. He was silent. "Pussy," she rolled her eyes and went back to the suitcase. She sounded like Tashi for a moment, and Patrick wanted to die. Sweet, gentle Liana. The one who thinks eight times before saying something, sounded like Tashi. "Liana, look at me for a second. Wait a minute." He wanted to throw up. He didn’t know how to stop her anger. How to minimize the damage. How to make sure she stayed where she was. How to make sure she would let him get close to her again. "If you touch me, I'll stab you in the eye." She said with feigned indifference when she heard his steps approaching her. "Please look at me." He begged. "Liana." His voice was more authoritative, knowing she wouldn’t withstand it. That her desire to feel needed and good was usually greater than her anger. "It won't work. Not this time. Not when it comes to Tashi Duncan." She said, as if knowing in advance what his strategy would be. What he would try to do.

"Let me explain. Please." He would get on his knees if he had to. She couldn't leave this room without knowing that he loved her. That he would leave his entire life for her. As he had done once before.

"Thank God I don’t have your baby. God, what a mess would that be." She muttered to herself as she closed the suitcase. Patrick took a few steps back. "What are you talking about?" He also had tears in his eyes, and he felt like he couldn't breathe. "What the hell are you talking about? Hey, look at me!" He approached her, raising his voice with every word he spoke.

"Do you really think I would have kept your baby, Patrick? As if this whole life isn’t a mistake anyway," she shook her head from side to side, saying the most venomous and painful things she could think of. "What baby?" His voice returned to being quiet. Like a child who was promised a puppy and then told he hadn't behaved well enough. "Ask Tashi." She scoffed and walked past him towards the door.

Patrick didn't stop her.

Art couldn't look at Tashi. They were supposed to go over videos of his competitor and do a short practice before today’s game, but he couldn’t look at her, and he couldn’t hide it either. "Did you tell her?" she asked after 20 minutes of awkward silences and business as usual. "Huh?" he didn’t understand. "Liana, did you tell her?" she asked more slowly. Sometimes it took Art a moment to understand. "What did I tell her?" His heart started to race. "Oh my God, Art, you saw me and Patrick yesterday. Don’t tell me you didn’t tell her." She reacted as if it was obvious. "You saw me?" he asked. "Of course I saw you. You wore green and stood out like a traffic light." She rolled her eyes. "And you still went with Patrick." He didn’t understand.

"Oh my God, Art. Just answer me, did you tell Liana or not?" She was starting to lose patience completely. "Yes..." he turned red and couldn’t look at her, "I’m sorry, I couldn’t hide it from her, Tash-" he started a monologue, hoping it wouldn’t cost him his friendship with Tashi. He had gotten used to her presence more than he was willing to admit, and she really did make him a better player. "Good, did you seal the deal?" she asked, and he blinked at her, not understanding anything anymore.

"Tashi, what?" he asked, feeling like they were having a conversation between a deaf person and a mute one, at this point. "Art, God help me, did you fuck her?" she asked directly for a change, reaching the conclusion that she couldn’t hint at anything with him. "What? No!" he was startled by her accusation. He would've jumped out of the couch if he hadn’t been more concerned about his composure in front of her.

"Why the hell not?" she asked in disbelief. "I don’t understand this conversation." He voiced his thoughts aloud. He was maroon-colored at this point. "I made it so easy for you, Arthur, what else needs to happen for you to claim what is yours?" She looked him in the eyes and saw him swallow hard.

"Liana is not mine." He said. Loser. "She’s not Patrick’s anymore. That’s for sure." She replied. Tashi really and truly didn’t understand what was holding him back. For a year she had seen him fumbling in the dark with the girl he looked at with hearts in his eyes. A year. Who doesn’t give up after a year?! Maybe someone who carries the key to her room for five years like a pathetic fool while she’s in a relationship with his best friend. But Tashi knew more than Art. Tashi saw Liana up close as a woman sees another woman. She saw the dark circles around her eyes and the despair. She saw so much despair.

And Patrick has this ability, Tashi thinks. To be the best and the worst at the same time. Like an electric current throughout the body, there are places where it feels good and places where it burns. Patrick mostly burns. And Tashi saw Liana six months ago, almost completely burnt out. Almost begging for a lifeline.

So she gave a push. She gave a little shove in hopes that everything would sort itself out. If Art had enough balls, everything would have been sorted out yesterday, but in the meantime, everyone keeps suffering and paying for his mistakes from five years ago.

"Okay," she sighed. "Let’s go back to the video and leave this until we get back from Atlanta, alright?" she asked. "But Tash-" he tried to resist. There were so many questions on the tip of his tongue. "Art. You are going to win this tournament. You are going to be the winner of this week, do you understand me?" she asked in the most authoritative and serious voice she could find. Art had no choice but to nod.

Hey, can we talk? -Patrick-

Liana -P- Hey, not sure if you saw, but I won the Atlanta Open, wish you were here. How are you? -Art- Hey girl, you haven’t answered your phone for a few days, should I be worried? -Melissa- Liana, if you don’t answer me, I’m coming to America and staying in your shitty apartment until I grow old. -M- Patrick and I broke up. -L- Do you want me to come? -M- Always. -L- I miss you. -P- Liana. we need to talk, we can’t leave things like this. -P- Just tell me you're okay. -P- You weren’t at the construction site today, can I call you? -A- I packed all your things, when can you pick them up? -L- Liana, can we talk like adults? Please. -P- Lilo, I’m begging you. -P- Okay, tomorrow at 8 PM, is that okay? -P- Leave the key in the closet outside when you’re done. -L- You won’t be at the apartment? -P- Hey, can I come over tomorrow around 8 PM? -L- Of course. Here’s the address. -A-

Liana heard a knock on the door at two in the afternoon and got annoyed. She didn’t want to see Patrick, and they had agreed that he would come to get his things at eight in the evening. Why couldn’t he just do one thing properly for once?!

“We agreed you’d come at eight, so what the fuck is this?!” she asked as she opened the door, seeing Tashi standing there. “I decided to come early,” Tashi replied sarcastically. “Can I come in?” she asked and entered without waiting for an invitation.

Liana was dressed in an oversized T-shirt and shorts. If Tashi had to guess, and she didn’t really want to, the shirt probably belonged to Patrick. Her hair was greasy, and she looked like she hadn’t slept since Tashi last saw her briefly in Atlanta, three weeks ago.

“You don’t have a couch in your living room,” Tashi said. The small space that could barely be called a living room looked empty, filled with boxes that Tashi assumed were Patrick’s, but the absence of the couch was noticeable. “I paid the neighbor $150 to get rid of it or burn it. I don’t know. Why are you here?” Liana asked, looking at her with complete disinterest.

“You and I, we’re not friends, you remember that, right?” Tashi said. “You came to my house to tell me we’re not friends? You slept with my boyfriend, I figured out we’re not friends on my own.” Liana rolled her eyes. Indifference was the only thing evident in her voice. Maybe also exhaustion. “I just remember you sitting across from me in a café, me asking if you wanted to be friends, and you saying something like ‘God no’. We were both there, right?” Tashi reminded her of their conversation when Liana had asked her to accompany her to the clinic.

“Well done, Tashi, you did a good deed for a complete stranger, and now what? You won’t rest until we all remember that you’re actually a bitch?” Liana asked, looking at her. “Look at you, how much character you’ve developed in these weeks,” Tashi replied and chuckled. “What the fuck do you want? I’m busy.” Liana said, turning her back to her. “With Self-pity?” Tashi asked. “Do you need something? Did you come to gloat? What’s the purpose of your visit? How do we finish this faster?” Liana ignored her question.

The truth was, Liana pitied herself a lot. She had ended a relationship with someone she really loved, who had hurt her so much there was nothing left. And she probably still loved him. And she probably always would. And what did it say about her if she was willing to love someone who treated her like gum stuck to the sole of his shoe? But Tashi didn’t need to know all that.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry if you got hurt.” Tashi sighed, and Liana turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think you’re supposed to get hurt, but I’m sorry if you did,” she added quickly. “I’m not supposed to get hurt by the fact that my boyfriend of the last four years slept with someone I trusted enough to ask for help when I had no one else to ask?” Liana asked in response. Her leg started to shake uncontrollably.

“You’re not in a relationship with me, I don’t owe you anything.” Tashi shrugged. “Do you want to hear what I think, Liana?” she asked.

“No, not really.” “I think you chose wrong. I think one of them thrives when you’re with him, and one of them withers when you’re with him. You chose wrong. And now you’re dealing with your choices. Because we both know Art worships you, and when you stand next to him, he’s the best he can be. He proves to you he’s the best he can be. He’ll be the best for you because you’re there, next to him. Watching.” She paused to catch her breath but looked at Liana with a gaze that made it clear she wasn’t finished.

“Patrick, on the other hand. He’s at his best when he needs to prove to you that he deserves your attention. The moment he got it, he lost it. He lost interest. He lost the reason to prove himself. He stopped striving higher. He wilts. You think he’s draining your will to live? Just by agreeing to be his, you took away his reason to live. It’s too comfortable for him now. He doesn’t need to impress you anymore, and who is Patrick Zweig when he doesn’t need to impress Liana Levy? A shadow of the person he was. You chose wrong, and you know it.” She finished, examining Liana, who just looked at her with tear-filled doe eyes.

“Buy a couch, Liana, or better yet, leave this shithole. It smells like mold here. Art’s apartment is nice, and I think he’d be happy to have you as a roommate.” Tashi applied what looked like hand sanitizer, patted Liana’s shoulder twice, and left the apartment.

All Liana could do was sit on the floor, crying. She didn’t have a couch to hold on to for the remnants of her self-respect.

heyyy :) kinda shorter chapter but I felt like it was a needed one. also, once again, we have more Tashi 🤭 as always, talk to me, the askbox is very open <3

taglist: @soberbabes @nina357 @lamoursansfin @marley1773 @ruyaas-world @apolloscastellan @primlovesdilfs @fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 YOUTUBE SERIES huh yunjin

previous. masterlist . next

🧋💿 yn and yunjin being the most obvious people alive 1.3 million views

clip one 🧋( we found out yn wrote understand about yunjin.)

“okay so..” somi said to the girl sitting across from her, she was doing an interview with yn. “understand has been massive hit girl, how does it feel to be the second member to have a song out.”

“um.” yn looked up for a second. “it feels nice, I’ve always had a love for songwriting.”

“oh yeah.” somi exclaims. “you wrote this, so who’s it about?”

somi raised her eyebrows when yn laughed awkwardly. “um.” she scratched the back of her neck. “it’s actually about my member yunjin actually… she’s like a person that i genuinely love so much.”

(*youtuber caption * ynyn shippers are getting fed today 😭)

“oh!” somi says loudly.

“no!.” yn sits up in her chair defensively. “not like that, like in a friend way you know, like she’s a person in my life that i just know we’re gonna be friends forever.”

all somi does is raise one eyebrow .

(*youtuber caption * somi just like us fr)

clip two 🧋(yn and yunjin not being able to even be 2 millimetres from each other)

the girls were filming some behind the scenes of them practicing for their comeback.

as chaewon talked to the camera, in the background you could see yn and yunjin standing in front of each other holding both of each other’s hands.

yn says something to yunjin and walks towards to the water dispenser, only for yunjin to follow close behind her and wrap her arms around yn.

cut

the girls were walking out of music bank, ready for the fansites to start taking photos and to see fans outside.

yunjin and yn held hands as they walked out the building waving at the fansites.

yn let go of yunjin’s hand to make a heart with sakura, only for yunjin to switch sides to hold her other hand.

cut

yn waved to camera, the one that was going to be her fancam.

the camera follows her as she walks towards yunjin asking her to help her fix her mic, while the other girls get in ready position.

yunjin fix’s her mic before wrapping her arms around yn pressing the girls face into her neck.

both girls flinch when they hear chaewons finger snap at them to get into their positions.

cut

“these two.” chaewon points at yn and yunjin “are inseparable.” the girls are on knowing bros. “they can’t go a second without being together.”

“see look !” eunchae yells pointing at the two girls in their uniforms yn had her arm tucked into yunjins they both throw their heads back in embarrassment as everyone in the room laughs.

clip three 🧋 (that one airport video.)

the camera pans to yn and yunjin who are standing in line at the airport.

both girls in comfy clothes since it was a very early flight, yunjin pulls on her hoodie as she listens to yn talk to her.

the out of knowhere the camera catches yunjin face gets close to yn’s face, following with yn jumping back in surprise.

(*youtuber caption* ummm what was that 🤨)

clip four🧋(yn and yunjin MMA that’s it.)

yn whispers something to yunjin, still looking straight a head but yunjin turns her head towards extra close and from a viewers point of view, it looked like she didn’t hear what yn said and asked her to repeat.

yn turns her head ready to repeat it but jumps back at how close yunjin’s face was to hers (their lips were almost touching.)

yn holds her hand on her heart turning away as yunjin puts her head in her hands in embarrassment.

🧋📁 yn’s song understand is actually understand by keshi if anyone wanted to know

[basu-shokikita]

Skwisgaar Skwigelf can f🎸ck with your head

Inspired by @mirrorshards's suggestion to make a certain video I showed her about Skwisgaar and Toki, I’m posting this silly drabble I wrote. Original will be linked after the drabble ‘cause I don’t wanna spoil.

Thank you @triplefaggot for the screenshot edit 😚

Have some Scandinavian shenanigans!

“Stops, just stops.” Skwisgaar said without any emotion in his voice. “Comes here.”

Toki swallowed heavily, releasing the grip on his guitar. With insecure steps, he walked out of the booth, where Skwisgaar was waiting for him on the couch. As well as the rest of the band…and Knubbler.

They were in the middle of recording a new album and this week, especially, was dedicated to the rhythms section. After watching Murderface get chewed out for not learning his parts, Toki had spent the whole night practicing in panic. At the very least he couldn’t afford to be as pathetic as Murderface, who most of the time didn’t even know where the chords were. 

He had to do better.

Problem is, he had no idea if his efforts had given any fruit as Skwisgaar’s expression was more inscrutable than the guitar resting on his lap. Nathan and Pickles had adopted a completely laissez-faire attitude. As far as they were concerned, Toki was Skwisgaar’s responsibility and they didn’t want anything to do with it. Knubbler looked almost bored, his face resting on his hand, awaiting for Skwisgaar’s verdict. 

With deliberate slowness, Skwisgaar folded his hands in front of his face, as in deep thought. His eyes bore into Toki’s and it felt like they were piercing his soul. He would’ve felt naked standing there for Skwisgaar to watch, if it wasn’t for his guitar shielding him.

“You says you prackstickeds last nites, ja?”

“J-Ja.”

A few seconds of silence.

“Amazings.” Skwisgaar mumbled and Toki wasn’t sure he had heard him right, though he didn’t dare to ask him to repeat. 

Weakly, he cleared his throat. “Um…?”

“Toki,” Skwisgaar put his hands down. “I has a massive problemks with yous playingks today.”

Feeling like someone had thrown a rock down his stomach, Toki looked down and braced himself.

“And its dat I wish you playeds like dis before.” 

Toki raised his eyes, a smile forming at the corners of his mouth. “Skwisgaar!”

“Because if you hads,” Skwisgaar continued. “Dens I would knows yous playingks ams gonna be mines cause of deaths.”

“Oh…” Toki lowered his eyes again. “Sorries…”

“And by cause of deaths, ams talkingks abouts Obituaries’ Cause of Deaths.” Skwisgaar said. 

Obituary, the band? Like, the ones that made the classic death metal album Cause of Death? Was Skwisgaar praising him?!

Toki couldn’t help the excitement drumming in his chest, that Skwisgaar had compared his playing to such a quintessential part of death metal history. “Thank y-”

“You knows how the bassists’ cause of death was cancers?!” Skwisgaar interrupted him.

Okay, now he really was lost. “Skwisgaar,” He scratched his head in confusion. “I don’ts knows if you ams insultingks me or nots.”

“Oh you don’ts?” Skwisgaar stood up, seemingly infuriated. “Okej, den lets puts it simples and easies: packs your shits, dildos, yous off de bands!”

“Whats?!” Toki squeaked, feeling a rush of blood to his head.

“Whoa!” Nathan was just as shocked.

“Skwisgaar, th’ts a bit too much…” Pickles tried to calm him down.

Skwisgaar ignored his bandmates and kept talking. “Because you shoulds be playingks in de best bands in de worlds!” He opened his arms effusively.

Although still recovering from the previous shock, the words moved Toki. “Oh, Skwisgaars, dat ams…”

“Aren’t we the bescht band in the world?” Murderface intervened.

“Quiet, Willy.” Knubbler silenced him.

“Just nots any worlds dat ams in.” Skwisgaar crossed his arms, staring down at Toki. 

“Am really confused here, dood.”

“Yeah, me too.”

It was comforting in a way for Toki to know the others were just as puzzled as him, but he was still on the receiving end of the lecture. “Alls do betters…” He muttered with closed eyes.

“Because, honestlies, Tokes, ams jealous of you.” Skwisgaar said.

Toki’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets. “You ams?!”

“And yours totals refusals to cares abouts yous playingks.” He took a step closer towards Toki. “Dis ams not fits for humans ears, noes, dis shoulds be listeneds by gods what has mores sophistikateds ears and infinites kindness to save humans from playingks likes dis!”

Toki was barely registering the words anymore, his head was spinning, he felt dizzy, like he was caught somewhere between a dream and a nightmare. Well, maybe it was the fact that he stayed overnight practicing so he had had little rest. Maybe he had fallen asleep mid practicing and this was nothing but an illusion? Maybe he never left his bed this morning? Maybe this wasn’t happening?

“If you dieds now, dens you wouldnts has to lives a lives whats you never does betters dan todays.” Skwisgaar said, though none of those words made any goddamn sense.

“T-Thanks you, Skwisgaar…” Toki managed to stutter before collapsing on the floor.

The rest of the band watched his unconscious body as a less than impressed Knubbler went to get the Klokateers. Their faces denoted something between slight concern and total indifference.

“Well, you knocked the kid out, Skwisgaar.” Pickles finally spoke. “Ya happy now?”

“Uh, he looks dead.” Nathan commented with a grimace.

“He ams gonna be fines.” Skwisgaar waved a dismissive hand before letting his weight flop back on the couch.

“I’m gonna draw dicksch on hisch fasche.” Murderface announced, producing a sharpie out of his pockets.

“Will ya stop thinkin’ about dicks for a second?” Pickles gestured at Nathan to help him get Toki off the floor. 

“What? He totally did the schame thing to me lascht time I pasched out!”

“That was different.” Nathan argued. “You deserved it.”

“What?!”

“Whet were ya tryin’ to tell him, anyway?” Pickles stared at Skwisgaar in exasperation.

Skwisgaar, who had started fretting from boredom, stopped. “I thoughts it ams was obviousk.”

Pickles and Nathan gave each other glances before looking back at Skwisgaar. “No?” They said in unison.

Skwisgaar shrugged, fingers back on the strings. “It was just okejs.”

------------------------------------------------------------

If you recognized the skit this is from, bless your heart, and if not, here you go:

Congratulations, now you understand my elaborated shitpost