#I PUT A STUPID AMOUNT OF EFFORT INTO MAKING PLAYLISTS

[idiotsonlyevent]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers (ू•‧̫•ू⑅)

omg hi cat !!! i hope you're doing well 🥰🥰

1. my kitties: ive had regina for about 2.5 years and rocky for 1.5 and they dont get along unfortunately but 🥺 i love them so much

2. music: i listen to a LOT of stuff, so ive been making more of an effort to clear out songs i no longer like from my playlists + seek out new ones as well!

3. taking walks: i NEED the weather to get nicer right the fuck now so i can start spending stupid amount of my free time walking around please 🙏

4. tea: i love tea i drink at least 3 cups of it a day, delicious beverage 😋

5. spreadsheets: menial task + organizing information = its like crack to me. SO much of my job is making spreadsheets which is such a win bc i make those For Fun + For Free lol

[evilbonehag]

Outlast AU: Normal Fucking People! EdVal friendship stupidity lets go-

(Warning for mentions of sexual assault for backstory reasons yk)

(Normal Fucking People is what I’ve lovingly named my slice of life Outlast AU where all the characters are haunt actors who scare people for a living)

• They bonded initially over loving horror and performance- they share details about their characters to each other that no one else knows. Their work at the Mount Massive/Temple Gate haunts originally got them talking and now they each realize how deeply their own lives and traumas affect the characters they play

• the weird kind of friendship where one of them is extremely put together and the other is always a fucking mess so it almost seems unfair (but it switches constantly because Eddie may be a homeowner but despite Val never having any money she is usually on the listening end when he’s got something to vent about and this is Often)

• Give the rancid vibes of a toxic couple (Constant gross pet names from Eddie, constant innuendos from Val, she likes to sit on his lap at parties and it weirds people out, they’re always hanging out and talking shit about people they hate etc etc)

• Really though, they’re each healing in their own way, its just a LOT. Val escaped an abusive Christian upbringing, Eddie has cpstd from childhood sexual abuse and they’ve each lived for 30-40 years and are JUST NOW trying to undo it all

• seriously Eddie didn’t even admit to himself that he was gay until a few months ago. Val suspected the whole time and definitely poked him about it and BOY would he get upset.

• meanwhile Eddie is a terrible great wingman for Val who is currently dealing with her giant gay crush on Marta. he’s just trying to learn how to not be overtly terrifying to be around (Hes WEIRDLY friendly. Marta hates this.)

• Eddie used to be visibly uncomfortable with being seen with Val in public in her goth-satanist-punk-what-have-you getup but they found the solution was not, in fact, to get Val to tone it down, but to get Eddie into wearing vintage. So now they’re getting into looking weird in public together, slowly but surely, and they’re quite the pair

•Eddie follows Val’s blog but he doesn’t have the attention span to Read All of That (Val writes essay-length blog posts and journals for fun, mostly about horror, sexuality, religion, human beings, etc.)

• Val is really well read and really good at talking. She has been able to get Eddie to listen to her musings very often when they smoke together

• it took Val a surprising amount of effort to get Eddie to be okay with getting high and he was a huge baby about it the first time they tried

• Eddie’s transition from “Can you please leave the spiked dog collar at home” to “Your tights need more holes in them, let me get the scissors-”

• Eddie has an oldies/musical theatre playlist for the car but Val hates upbeat showtunes more than anything. Eddie gives her rides everywhere so he’s been making it a challenge to find her something she’d like (“If I can imagine a kick-line to it, it��s trash, Ed”)

• The amount of crying and screaming these two do around each other. There was a period of their friendship where they were consistently talking each other down from things. Val is still grappling with shame around sexuality despite outwardly being very sex-positive, and Eddie has so much trouble trusting people and releasing control for fear of being assaulted again. They’re okay with being very raw and unfiltered around each other in ways they can’t be with anyone else

• “Did you see Rick at the haunt last night?”

“Fuck Rick.”

“Yeah, fuck Rick.”

[a-new-superhero]

[[Posted this over on Weverse so figured I'd post it here too, even though I have like 3 followers and just use this blog as a scrapbook for my favourite pics...]]

I'm not usually one to post on sites like this. I tend to just lurk in the background and enjoy the content. But there's been so much hostility on here recently that I wanted to put something positive out there.

Basically my whole family got into BTS before me. I didn't get it, couldn't understand the obsession with what is essentially a boyband. So I was resistant to every effort they made to introduce them to me. I don't tend to listen to a lot of pop music anyway so I really believed that they wouldn't be my cup of tea. It stayed that way for years.

And then my mental health took a dip. Or I guess it hit rock bottom. I couldn't leave the house without having a panic attack and I was living with a constant knot of anxiety in my stomach. I was crying every day. I was literally a mess and I couldn't see a way to make it through the day, let alone how I was going to get through the next week, month, year...

And BTS saved me. I mean, don't get me wrong, my parents and my husband played a big part too, but the truth is that they have their own lives and pressures and responsibilities, and they can't be there every time I feel myself slipping back into that anxious space. BTS can.

I started watching Run BTS episodes because I knew they were supposed to be light-hearted and funny, and also they were short in the early days which suited me because I had zero attention span at that point. Plus reading the subtitles meant that my mind couldn't wander and get distracted by worrying or spiralling into an anxiety attack. And it helped - I did laugh, and I quickly worked my way through the back catalogue of episodes, finding myself feeling lighter somehow, like a weight had been lifted. It felt good to smile at their escapades and the stupid things they got up to.

What I didn't expect was to fall in love with the guys themselves, and that love only got stronger the more content I watched. So often all we see of celebrities' lives is the shiny glamour or the scandal, and it's impossible to relate to either of those extremes. But BTS were honest about their struggles in the most mundane way, and that resonated with me. I don't have a huge amount of past trauma piling up that's made me this way. Sometimes life - working, paying the bills, doing what is expected of me - just feels overwhelming for no other reason than the monotony of it, how tired I am of it all, and, though their lives are in no way like mine, I could feel that strain in them in the same way.

They talked about loving themselves not as a goal to be achieved, but as a journey that never truly ends, and because of that I didn't feel like I was being preached to. I felt like I was being encouraged, like they were holding my hand along the way. Just like they do with each other. They seem to lean on each other in a very real way, the same way I was, and still am, leaning on my family, and seeing that made me feel like I could lean on them too. I can't describe it in any other way. When they dote on each other and look after each other and tease each other, argue and make up... There's a sense of safety to it all, a bubble of peace where there's no judgement of each other; only total understanding, which seems to extend to ARMY as well.

And yes, I'll still admit that their music isn't what I would typically listen to. I'm more of a Green Day/Frank Turner kinda girl. But when I finally caved and listened to their albums, looked up the lyrics, I realised that what sound like your typical chart hits on the surface actually have lyrics that matter, that talk about freedom and justice and disadvantage and self-love. And now that playlist I made of the songs that really spoke to me or lifted my mood has become my crutch. If I'm listening to BTS when I'm sitting on a train or walking through a busy store, I don't panic. I can breathe a little more easily.

I love that RM speaks so eloquently and with such wisdom, but is still a curious child at heart. It's taught me the importance of balance, of never losing my sense of wonder no matter how much I mature and grow.

I love that Jin finds his happiness by making other people laugh. I think we can all learn from that, especially when the world feels like such a dark place of late.

I love that Suga has this stoic air about him that conceals someone who loves so wholly and completely. It showed me that you can feel deeply without necessarily wearing your heart on your sleeve all the time.

I love how J-Hope always puts the others first, how he's there fighting at their side when they need him and giggling with them and kissing them goodnight when things are good. He's someone I can strive to be like in a way that feels honest and achievable.

I love Jimin's kindness, even in the face of the hate that he receives so frequently, that he holds his head high in spite of that, and I aim to have even a fraction of that fighting spirit and sass.

I love V's individuality. He's so unafraid to be himself, even if that means taking a completely different path to everyone else. It's teaching me how to be unapologetic of and fully accept my own quirks.

I love Jungkook's fearlessness, how he's so shy and yet still goes his own way, rebelling against what's expected and growing into a man to be respected as the whole world watches. I envy how he throws himself into things and I try, whenever I can, to have the courage to do what makes me happy, even if it means going against what those around me believe is best.

OT7 has brought happiness in some way, shape or form to every single person that calls themselves ARMY. This fandom is such a force for good and I'm proud to call myself a part of it. The ships, the stupid comments, the war with Blinks... None of that really matters and it's sad to see it taking up so much space here and on Twitter. We're here because a band changed our lives.

We should be celebrating that.

[[TL;DR : Drama is the worst thing about fandoms and we should all be goddamn happy just to have something that brings a little light into our lives in this dreary freakin' world, y'know?]]

[mugenloopdalove]

and that is your opinion! you’re allowed to have an opinion as does the OP. and again even if the post is circulating that still a handful of people in just the general masses of tumblr not even taking into account just the sheer amount of people that exist. that doesn’t mean that everyone thinks that your personal playlists are shit just cause they like the experience of shorter playlists. most of the people interacting with that post probably don’t even care and like both.

people are going to be mean. you’ve been mean, you’re a hypocrite for wanting people to be nice about something that personally upsets you when you’ve don’t the same shit over other things. have some self awareness. get help.

Ok but the OP could have worded in a way that showed that it's their personal opinion on playlists and their personal preference being short playlists instead of saying "If you make long playlists you're bad at making playlists" because THATS what she said. She didn't say "I prefer short playlists" she said "People are bad at making playlists because they make them long"

When have I been needlessly mean within the past few years. Yeah I used to be mean and catty over stupid shit when I let my jealousy get the best of me, but in recent years I have put active effort into being nice about things that don't harm anyone because I don't want to hurt people's feelings.

[askremiandenvy]

Needlework and Seedlings--a playlist for Kirin

A playlist of songs inspired by the unfolding of Kirin’s arc in navigating her grief. Though created with her journey in mind, these songs may resonate with anyone who has dealt with trauma or loss.

Tracklist (Song- Artist):

Coda- Echos // (“Are you dreaming, too?”)

Thirteen- The Antlers // (“Couldn’t you have kept this all from happening? Dig me out from under our house”)

Viva la Vida- Coldplay //  (“I used to rule the world, seas would rise when I gave the word”)

St. Jude- Florence and the Machine // (“Maybe I’ve always been more comfortable in chaos”)

Please Just Stay Dead- Nicole Dollanganger // (“Wild fires have been eating you inside my head, trying to smoke you out or burn you alive in it”)

Homesick- Radical Face // (“But you're not the same, you died along the way. Now we're ghosts and we're praying for winter”)

Empty- Ray LaMontagne // (“Well I looked my demons in the eye, laid bare my chest, said: ‘do your best, destroy me’”)

Lung- Vancouver Sleep Clinic // (“Can somebody pick me up? This voice is too loud. I’m losing you in the crowd”)

Crown of the Lost- Piano Magic ft. Vashti Bunyan // ( “I have dreams in which you’re a nightmare, I have dreams in which you’re unfair. But angels still dance in your garden, and flowers still grow in your hair”)

When the World Was Mine- The Count of Monte Cristo OST // (“Gone now, my tomorrow. So fast, my tomorrow's gone. The world I left behind lives only in my mind”)

Epilogue- The Antlers // (“You're screaming, and cursing, and angry, and hurting me. And then smiling, and crying. Apologizing”)

Shallows- Daughter // (“Let the water rise, let the ground crack. Let me fall inside, lying on my back”)

Faded From the Winter- Iron and Wine // ( “Needlework and seedlings, in the way you’re walking to me, from the timbers. Faded from the winter”)

[constablegoo]

some updates!   made the switch to GOO-gle docs, can u believe?? so you’ll find my navigation link now leads to that. i expanded most of the info into bite size paras from bullet points, still keeping things concise but, i think, with a much more cohesive overview. also Blog Now With Aesthetics! --all concept art from ds9 itself. i won’t be moving to a dash-only format here though, so u can still read all the same info from the comfort of ur own tunglr.

also. i made this playlist like a THOUSAND years ago and then never shared it. enjoy.

[thealterscrolls]

Hey! 'Tis me. I'm here with some numbers for the fic ask; there were so many to pick from and they were all really interesting questions so I couldn't narrow it down to just one. Hope that's okay. Anyway, any of you can answer these, and you can answer as many or as little as you want.

13 (music)

34 (personal life…no pressure to answer this one by the way)

45 (genre/trope)

50 (writing style)

57 (foreshadowing) Good luck with all your writing! :D

helo charlie friend, tysm for the ask! you picked out some banger questions and jakob and i were happy to answer them! without further ado, all of our long winded answers will be below the cut. apologies in advance for the walls of text lol

13. Do you listen to music while you write?  If yes, what have you been listening to recently?

cas: i personally have a hard time writing if the music has words but writing in silence is hard too, so my go to writing music for YEARS has always been anything by Peter Gundry. i used to just listen to his dark magic music compilations on youtube, but now i'll go through his albums on spotify. i'll write to music with words on rare occasion but only if it's a character/fic playlist of songs that remind me of the character or story in some way. i generally don't make those playlists public, but i have found that i put Lord of the Lost in as many playlists as possible to the point that a lot of them are half LOTL songs lol. here's a casual link to my recs playlist for that band lmao.

34. How much of your personal life/experience do you include in your fics?

jakob: id say we tend to incorporate a lot, which is funny if i answer on a more personal level because i dont consider myself to have lived that much life at all to be incorporating anything valuable of it. i've only been around in this system a couple months. but regardless of which of us is doing the writing, we all will pull from everyone's experiences. some things just read more viscerally when you have a memory of experience to take notes from. always have to change up details of course. it's like that homework copying meme except the copied stuff looks better than the original thing.

45. What genre/trope do you tend to write the most?

jakob: it's either comedy or it's super angsty drama/romance. rarely inbetween. i think i stick more to the dramatic, angsty stuff though. i havent written anything very humorous. im way too conscious of how much of an endless barrage of sadness my current wip is. i almost feel bad and want to lighten it up a bit lol. meanwhile cas loves writing both emotional shit and extremely stupid cursed goofy shit. they're also that asexual person who has an unnecessary amount of never-to-be-published smutty wips because exploring that kind of stuff is fun to them, but i am the asexual who could not be less interested in being near that kind of thing, much respect to those who are. i dont know enough about tropes to know which ones we write the most.

50. How would you describe your writing style?

jakob: i think i have a fairly literal writing style. they go here. they do that. being "flowery" with descriptions is a conscious effort and unless i get a specific visceral concept or wording in my head, it will just be a pretty straightforward description of events. i imagine the jump from "x does y thing" to "eloquent description of an abstract emotion" might be fairly noticeable. and to be fair, i think it's this way with everyone in the system. i dont think there's any significant difference between our writing styles, including handwriting.

57. How conscious are you about including symbolism or foreshadowing in your fics?

cas: very conscious! it's one of my favorite things about writing fics and often is the basis for a fic concept. i love when writing has little motifs and is self referential AND THE PARALLELS! GOD THE PARALLELS MY BELOVEDS!!! if i cant include a billion parallels in my shit am i even writing? this is honestly a system wide preference too because jakob's writing is like that lol. this is one of the reasons we prefer to write fics completely before posting them so we can sufficiently make sure the parallels work out and things are tied up neatly. but its also the biggest reason we dont really have much posted either </3

[amyscascadingtabs]

don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you [chapter 1]

“Actually, I want to add one more rule.” “Yeah?” Jake leans back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head and flexing his biceps through the green shirt with a smug grin. “You’re not allowed to fall in love with me.” "Won't be a problem."

Amy Santiago doesn't date cops. Jake Peralta's sworn never to date a lawyer again. When a couple of drinks and the returning of a borrowed shirt ends with the two of them in bed together, Amy decides to take control of the situation the best way she knows how: a comprehensive set of rules. There's just one little thing she hadn't anticipated – Jake Peralta is full of surprises.

Written for the B99 Summer 2021 Fic Exchange.

AO3 link // playlist

My contribution to this year’s fic exchange, for @fezzle​! @b99fandomevents​​ 💛

1. i never saw you coming (and i’ll never be the same)

 He gets out of the car, and before Amy can gather the courage to shout after him, he’s disappeared from her sight.

She leans her forehead against the steering wheel, squeezing her fist and punching it in frustration. It doesn’t feel better, just makes her hand hurt. Amy pretends that’s what’s making her eyes tear up, and not the thought that she just screwed up her chances of ever seeing Jake Peralta again.

 five months earlier.

 The cop is five minutes late entering the courtroom, and Amy vows to dislike him from that point onward.

 What's worse is that he doesn't seem ashamed. He simply gives Judge Stewart an apologetic grin, runs a hand through his already messy hair, and sits down on the bench next to the sergeant Amy recognizes as Terry Jeffords. Amy gives him a polite faked smile to tell him she's noted this presence and she's going to win this case, but the cop doesn't seem to notice the toxicity in her facial expression, because she gets another wide grin back. Judging from the colorful marks on his teeth, it looks like he had candy for breakfast – could it be gummy bears? Either way, Amy's respect for the man sinks even lower.

 At least she won't have to worry about him, she tells herself. She already knows this case is about to be a win.

 That is until it turns out this man has a reply for everything. She’d been certain the evidence against her client was circumstantial at best, nowhere near enough to get him convicted on, and the notes she’d gone through from the initial police questioning had lacked significant information. It had been nothing short of sloppy, and she’d entered the courthouse this morning filled with glowing confidence. That same confidence is now seeping away, dripping onto the polished floors of the courtroom in exchange for heated frustration as it turns out the detective – Jake Peralta, she learns – was present at the scene earlier than Amy had gathered, and from the vantage point he had, saw her client running from the corner store at full speed.

“Would you say it’s possible my client was running for a different reason?” She asks, staring coldly into the detective’s eyes as she speaks. “Such as exercising, perhaps?”

“Well, he was carrying a huge green backpack, identical to the one he was wearing when my partner Charles caught him ten minutes later. So, no,” he says, meeting her look with a smug smile of his own. “I would say that’s unlikely.”

“But not impossible?”

“Considering we also found the stolen goods in that same backpack, I’d say the chance is pretty solid it was him.”

“The bags couldn’t have been switched? Or, as my client claims, the goods couldn’t have been dropped in there by someone who wanted to get rid of them?”

“With all due respect,” says Jake Peralta, and the self-assuredness in his voice is enough for her to know the case is lost. “The streets were more crowded than a Taylor Swift concert, your honor. Someone would have seen something.”

 ~

 It’s late Friday afternoon by the time Amy returns to the office of Newsom & Associates, but there’s still plenty of her coworkers left to watch as she throws her briefcase on top of the chair before closing the door to her office and digging out her pack of shame cigarettes from the bottom drawer of her desk. The only window in the room opens out to a back alley with trash cans and forgotten bikes, which is a drab view most of the time but comes in handy for secret shame-smoking. She closes her eyes and leans back against the wall, trying to savor the first inhale. She hates the habit and always tells herself she’s going to quit soon, but at times when work stresses her out like this, there’s no better fix. It’s all Jake Peralta’s fault, anyway. He’d waved at her when they’d left the courtroom, looking genuinely pleased to see her, and that had only worsened her frustration. It’s one thing being defeated – it’s worse when the winner acts like it wasn’t even a big deal.

 “You should stop that.” The sound of Rosa’s voice appearing in the doorway to Amy’s office causes her to inhale too much smoke, coughing and tearing up as she hurries to extinguish the cigarette butt on the windowsill. “It’s gross.”

“I needed it,” Amy coughs again before drying her eyes with the sleeve of her blazer. “You should’ve been there. That fucking detective ruined my defense.”

“So? It happens. Doesn’t make you a bad lawyer. Stop pitying yourself.”

“You’re just saying that because you win nearly all your cases,” Amy mumbles. “And everyone’s terrified of you.”

Rosa does a little shrug, but Amy thinks she can spot the hint of a smile on her lips. She can’t be certain, though. Rosa almost never smiles, but that’s not nearly the most terrifying thing about her. She also rides her motorcycle to court and wears leather jackets and skin-tight black jeans to trials, and somehow no one's ever dared to police her on it. Amy once asked her out of curiosity if putting on a blazer would really hurt that much, and the stare she got back told her she’d be a fool to make that mistake again.

“Either way, it's not that. It was that cop who ruined everything. I mean, he showed up late, for god’s sake, with candy in his teeth and a wrinkled suit! But he somehow had an answer and explanation for everything,” Amy snorts. “And he smiled the whole time like he’d already won. And he referenced Taylor Swift! During the trial! Who does that?”

Rosa lets out a laugh. “You're a Swift hater? God, please don't tell me you took Kanye’s side too.”

“I didn't – that's beside the point!”

“Which is?”

“That he has zero respect for the sacred rules of a courtroom, and gets away with it all because of that super-charm smile.”

“Yeah, you mentioned the smile. Twice.”

“It was just so…” She clenches her fist until her red nails press into her palm to the point of pain, then releases it. “It's fine. I’ll win my next case, and there are lots of cops in New York. I probably won't ever see him again.”

 ~

 Amy can barely hide her frustration in court the next week when she hears the doors open and looks up from the papers she was sorting, only to see Jake Peralta for the second time in her life. He’s on time today, which she supposes is progress, but there are stains on his shirt that seem to be coming from the can of orange soda he’s holding in his hand. She wonders if it's his breakfast. If that's his diet, he looks surprisingly fit in a grey suit for it.

 He grins again when he sees her, raising his hand in a lazy wave. Amy gives him a forced smile, then returns to her papers. She’ll have to make sure to win this time.

 But despite her confidence and very best efforts, she loses to Jake Peralta yet another time.

And another.

And another.

 It's not that she's suddenly magically unlucky, because she still manages to win several other cases, but every time Jake Peralta shows up to testify, without fault, Amy loses.

It infuriates her.

 The worst part is that Jake seems oblivious to her anger. He smiles at her every time they leave the courtroom, even though she returns them with little to no genuineness at all. She once spots him doing a childish victory gesture outside the courthouse, but he never once takes the opportunity to brag about his win to her face.

 Aside from his surprisingly good manners when it comes to bragging, though, he's a mess. There's always some kind of stain on his shirt or his cheek that he seems unaware of, his ways of describing things involve one too many pop culture references for Amy’s liking, and she starts preparing to meet him every time a detective is five minutes late. She wonders if no one's ever told him how one is supposed to behave in a courtroom, but he’s usually accompanied by the precinct’s sergeant, so that seems unlikely. The more likely option, Amy figures, is that he just doesn't seem to find it that important; especially considering he seems to get away with it every single time.

 She swears it's all because of that stupid infectious smile.

 ~

 It pleases Amy to no end when she learns that Jake Peralta is going to be the witness in one of the strongest cases she’s had in a long while. The client was clearly acting in self-defense, she has a witness of her own who can testify to that, and although she knows that nothing is for certain until the verdict falls, she’s got a good feeling about this one. Finally, the day has come for Jake Peralta to watch her win.

 At first, the state attorney’s case seems solid. Jake is assisted by a short, round-faced man with dark brown hair and an expression that looks like he’s seconds away from apologizing for taking up everyone’s time, but his suit is matched and perfectly straight and he gets right to the point without any odd references, so Amy still earns a fair amount of respect for detective Charles Boyle. He and Jake had entered the subway car after hearing about a fight taking place, and stepped on just in time to watch her client aim a closed-fist punch at the face of the man on top of him. It’s clear and convincing, but Amy knows that after the recess, it will be her time to shine. She loves these moments, when it’s obvious the other side thinks they have it in the bag but she knows something they don’t, and they have no idea what’s coming. She knows trials are about justice and not personal victories – but she’s only human. Winning is always a thrill.

 She’s thinking about how she’s going to be celebrating her win later this evening when Jake Peralta bumps into her at the coffee shop neighboring the courthouse. As in, literally bumps into her, with his elbow when he hurries forward to grab a plastic cup with whipped cream and so much caramel syrup on top of the coffee that Amy pities his dentist.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry… wait, it's you!” He shines up as if he’d just seen a past good friend, and Amy’s once more taken aback by how polite he is. A lot of cops she meets during trials either tend to make fun of her profession or glare bitterly at her from a distance, but Jake's doing neither. He even reaches out his free hand to shake hers, so she accepts. “Jake Peralta – wow, you have a very firm handshake.”

“I took a seminar. Amy Santiago.”

“Where?” He asks, but she ignores him and moves forward in line to order her coffee with milk.

“Nothing for your client? Wow. I’d expected you to have better manners than that, Santiago.”

“I offered, but he wanted to spend recess with his partner for moral support. See?” She raises a brow at him. “I do have manners.”

There's that smile again, up close this time, and Amy's relieved when the barista hands her the coffee so she can hide the involuntary blush in her cheeks. She never noticed he had dimples before.

“So, how are you feeling about the rest of the trial, then? Ready to go defend the guilty guy?”

“Innocent until proven guilty, Peralta. Famously one of the most sacred principles in the American justice system. And I was born ready.”

“And lose. The whole question was, are you ready to go defend the guilty guy and lose, and you said you were born that way.” Jake grins in a way that makes him look like an overgrown mischievous school kid. Maybe not that far off, Amy thinks.

“Twist my words all you want, I am winning this case.” She hesitates for a moment, noticing Jake's detective partner looking at the two of them from a table in the corner of the room. Not normally something she'd be that creeped out by, if it hadn't been for the fact that the man isn’t tearing his eyes away from them, and he looks weirdly overjoyed. “Uhm, is detective Boyle okay? He's staring at us pretty intensely.”

“Huh? Oh yeah, he has… an eye condition.” Jake turns around and mouths something that looks to be BOYLE, and the man rolls his eyes before stalking away. “Ignore him. Anyway… so what do you think about the judge?”

 Amy's about to launch into a description of her good experience with judge Myers when someone brushes past her with their iced coffee in a hurry, losing control of the plastic cup. The unsecured lid wobbles, and before Amy realizes what’s about to happen, cold coffee splashes onto her earlier pristine white blouse. “Fuck!” She reaches for a bunch of paper napkins and tries to dab the worst away with them, but the milky coffee is already seeping through the fabric and leaving an obvious stain that her blazer can’t hide.

“What a jerk,” Jake mutters, glaring in the direction of where the stranger disappeared.

“Never mind that! I don’t have another shirt! I can’t go into a courtroom looking like this! Unlike you, I actually care about whether my clothes have giant stains on them!”

“First of all, rude, and second of all, they’re not giant.”

“I don’t care. I’m screwed. Fuck, I don’t have time to run back home before the trial starts – I guess I could call Rosa –”

“Hey, hey.” Jake holds up his hands as if trying to calm her down, which only makes Amy more frustrated. “I know this is kind of crazy, but, I have a shirt in my car that I was planning to return to my ex. But emphasis on ex, so…” He shrugs. “You could borrow it?”

 Amy considers her options. On the one hand, she figures there’s about an eighty percent chance that whatever Jake has in his car also has some kind of mysterious stain on it, but on the other hand, she took the subway today and there's no way she’ll make it to her apartment and back before the court is back in session. Asking for a longer recess is an option, but making everyone wait simply because she needs a change of clothes makes her too uncomfortable to even consider.

“Fine,” she relents. “Where's your car?”

 Jake's car turns out to be an old Mustang, which Amy can tell even from her strictly limited car-knowledge is pretty impressive, but she doesn't understand how he can find anything in there. The backseat is a mess of empty orange soda bottles, a couple of frisbees, candy wrappers, what looks to be cartoons and old CDs, and the cup holders have shaving foam next to another can of orange soda. She's equally surprised and impressed when he pulls out a clean, dark blue charmeuse blouse. Whoever Jake's ex-girlfriend was, she seems to have both taste and money.

“You're totally saving my day today,” she says as he gives it to her. “You really didn't have to.”

“Prove that cops aren't all bad?” Amy rolls her eyes, and Jake laughs. “Just kidding. You have to give it back, though.”

“As soon as I’ve washed it. Wait, we have to be able to get in touch.” She digs in the inside pocket of her briefcase and pulls out two of her business cards. “I’m assuming you don't have any, so write your number on the back of that one.”

“Rude, but correct.” He scribbles down something on one of the cards before giving it back. “I’ll see you up there, then… Amy Santiago.”

Something about the way he says her name, slowly and with perfect pronunciation, makes her want to hear it again. She hurries back into the building and toward the bathrooms, hopefully before he can tell that she's blushing.

 “The defense may call the next witness.”

“The defense calls Elinor Simons.” Amy can feel everyone's eyes on her as well as the witness as a young girl, no more than eighteen, walks up to the stand. She's pale, but she looks determined, and Amy gives her a comforting smile as she swears the oath.

 Elinor’s voice trembles at her first words, but Amy keeps steady eye contact with her, and soon she’s speaking louder and less hesitant. She had been on her way to her friend’s house when she entered the same subway car as the two young men, and had overheard the two of them fighting over something. Sitting only a few seats away from them in the near-empty car, she’d noticed the defendant looking scared, and out of curiosity, had turned off her music. She’d heard the man who’d later gotten attacked – Mr. Lorentz – scream that the defendant was an asshole, and then she’d seen him push him to the floor, much unlike the way the prosecution had described a course of events in which both men had slipped. It had scared her, so she’d gotten up to walk away, but before she could move she’d seen Mr. Lorentz leaning down.

“It looked like he was about to hit the defendant,” she says without wavering, and Amy can see a few of the jury members nodding in understanding. “And even if they were about the same size, Mr. Lorentz looked really strong. The defendant tried, but it seemed to me like he was unable to get up. I remember thinking this wasn’t going to end well, so I headed for the end of the car before they noticed me.”

“And you’re sure of what you saw?”

“Completely sure. I only found out later that the defendant was a cousin of my sister’s boyfriend, which is how I learned about the trial.”

Amy nods and clasps her hands together, trying to assume a confident stance as she keeps her eyes focused on the witness stand. “Elinor, in the position he was in, do you believe that the defendant would have been scared?”

“I think anyone would have been.”

“So the punch witnesses watched the defendant throw, could it have been in self-defense?”

“Yes. Yes, I think so.”

Amy smiles. “Thank you. No further questions.”

 The prosecution’s closing arguments are short and precise, sticking entirely to the part of the events that took part after the police walked in. The district attorney, a balding man in his fifties, as good as overlooks Elinor’s testimony in favor of focusing in on detailed descriptions of the headaches Mr. Lorentz had experienced after the event, and that alone is enough to make Amy’s blood boil; but instead she just sits there, waiting with a polite smile on her lips.

 Finally, the other attorney sits down, and the judge nods at Amy to stand up. During her very first trials, this moment used to freak her out – everyone’s eyes on her and waiting expectantly – but with time she’s come to love this. It reminds her of the thrill of getting the last word in a heated fight with her siblings when she was younger, only now, she doesn’t have to shout to be heard. Everyone’s already listening.

 “Your Honor, ladies and gentlemen of the jury: it’s correct that the defendant hit Mr. Lorentz on that train. He admits to doing so himself.” Amy nods to the young man sitting next to her, fidgeting nervously with the cuffs on his shirt. “But there is one key aspect which the prosecution has so conveniently chosen to ignore, and that is the events which led up to Mr. Petersen’s actions. A background which he not only has explained clearly himself, but which is also backed up by Ms. Simmons’ testimony.” She gestures with her hand to Elinor.

“You see, Mr. Petersen wasn’t acting unprovoked. When the incident happened, he had been pushed to the floor, and like both my client and the witness described, he was unable to get up. Mr. Lorentz himself admits to practicing weightlifting; he’s not a weak man, and in the moment, he was clearly upset with the defendant. As Ms. Simmons put it… “ She takes a break to gather the attention of everyone in the room. “Anyone in that position would have been terrified.”

“Under New York Law, Penal Law paragraph thirty-five point fifteen, a person is justified in using physical force against another, when that person is under the reasonable belief that the physical force is necessary to defend the person from what they reasonably believe to be the illegal imminent use of force or the illegal use of force. Mr. Petersen was stuck, and under the reasonable belief that Mr. Lorentz could hurt him unless he managed to free himself. He acted in self-defense, which I remind you that the prosecution has not been able to disprove. In fact, the case against Mr. Petersen cannot be proved against reasonable doubt, which means that you must find him… not guilty.”

 From the other side of the room, she swears she can feel Jake’s eyes on her. When she looks up, she sees him mouthing nice job.

 ~

 “What did you say he looked like, now again? Except for crazy hot and adorable?” Kylie takes another sip of her mojito, spying over the crowded bar.

“Okay, I said neither of those things.”

Kylie shrugs. “Didn’t have to.”

“Ugh. Whatever. Brown hair, brown eyes, medium height, I guess kind of a bigger nose… and I don’t know what he wears outside of court, but there was a leather jacket in the front seat of his car, so maybe that?” She strains her neck to try and see through the Friday night crowd. She’s never been to this particular Brooklyn bar before, but Jake had suggested it when Amy asked about a good place to give him back the shirt, and she’d figured after a long week, she might as well treat herself to a couple of after-work drinks with a friend. After being asked about the so-called mystery hottie five times, though, she’s starting to regret bringing Kylie along.

“Mm, that’s like, all the guys in here… oh, wait, that one’s waving to you!” Kylie points to a figure near the door, elbowing Amy in the side and causing her to nearly choke on her wine. She’s still coughing when Jake walks up to them, trying to offer him a smile while drying her eyes. Jake looks politely confused, but shakes Kylie’s hand in the meantime.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” she says with a meaning wink to Amy before sliding off the leather barstool, leaving it for Jake. “Have a good night!”

“Ignore her.” Amy sighs. “Sorry, I…”

“No, no worries,” Jake says, and the honest care in his expression makes her feel oddly warm. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry.” She waves a dismissive hand and picks up the dry-cleaning bag hanging on the back of her chair. “Well, here’s the shirt. Thank you for the loan. Or thank your ex, I suppose.”

“Dry-cleaned, really? You truly are type A.”

“What about it?”

“Nothing, it makes sense.” He nods to the glass in her hand. “Celebrating Tuesday’s win?”

“Something like that. It was Monday, though,” she can’t stop herself from correcting him. “I don’t get a lot of time off. Gotta make the best out of it.”

“Yeah, me neither. Do you mind if I join you for another drink? Or maybe you should do water, in case you choke again?”

Something about the way he poses it like a challenge makes her take the glass, put it to her lips, and swallow the rest of the wine in one gulp. “I think I can handle it.”

 They pay for their own drinks, because whatever this meeting is, it’s definitely not a date, and it makes Amy relieved that Jake doesn’t seem to think so either.

“A toast,” he suggests. “To your win this week. I gotta give it to you, those closing statements were solid.”

“To justice,” Amy says, and they raise their beer bottles in unison. “And my win. Finally.”

“Yeah, what has it been, like, five wins for me?”

“Four, but dream on, Peralta.”

Jake laughs. The dimples in his cheeks become even more prominent when he laughs, Amy notes. “Have you always been this intense about winning cases, then? Or is it something that comes with law school? Like there’s a class in being petty about this stuff?”

You’re intense too, she thinks, but doesn’t say it out loud. “Maybe. I have seven brothers, and I was the only girl. I got pretty good at winning fights using other things than physical strength when I was a kid. Actually, sometimes physical strength, too.”

“I feel like you could beat someone up if you wanted to. You could surprise them.”

“Oh, I could most definitely beat someone up if I wanted to. But I stuck to arguing. I got good at it. And I always had good grades, so I ended up at Columbia, and I’ve never really regretted it.” She takes a swig of her beer. “Not even when cops call me the devil.”

“I wouldn’t call you the devil,” Jake says. “I mean, do I think you lack a bit of a moral compass? Probably. But each to their own.”

She leans her head a little bit to the side, eyeing him closely. “Why do you think that?”

“Well, you have to defend people that you know did awful things, right? Doesn’t that make you feel sick sometimes?”

“I don’t have to defend their actions. Most times, it’s not even about that. It’s about making sure the trial is fair, the evidence is sufficient and their rights are respected, so that if there’s a conviction, it’s actually beyond any reasonable doubt. I like to believe most people are better than their worst moments. I see it as my job to make sure they’re treated that way.”

“Huh.” Jake nods slowly. “Guess I never thought of it that way.”

“Plus,” she winks, “someone’s gotta hold you guys accountable, right?”

“Fine.” He shakes his head. “Hey, did you say you went to Columbia? My captain’s husband teaches law there. Did you ever have a Kevin Cozner?”

“No way! Your captain is Raymond Holt?” She’s speaking way too loudly, she can tell from the way other people are glancing at her, but Jake looks entertained. “Sorry, it’s just – Professor Cozner was my favorite constitutional law teacher. I still send him and Raymond Christmas cards every year!”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” Jake grins. “But, how weird is that? Almost like the universe is bringing us together or something.”

Amy thinks that it’s not that weird, since Kevin must teach hundreds of students every year that g on to become lawyers, but she kind of wants to keep seeing that smile on Jake’s face forever, so she nods. “So weird.”

 They order another drink, plus some chips and nuts when Jake realizes he forgot to eat dinner, and move to another table in the back of the room. Amy’s surprised how comfortable she feels in his presence. It’s like she can’t wipe the smile off her face but doesn’t want to, and with time and a little more alcohol, jokes that she barely would have noticed on any other day become laugh-out-loud funny. It feels natural, even though she’s not sure how, and she tries not to glance at the clock on the wall when he doesn’t either. She’s got work to do tomorrow and she can’t stay out forever, but she doesn’t want to be reminded that this evening has to end at some point.

 “So what made you become a cop, then?” She asks when she realizes she’s the only one who’s shared her origin story tonight. “Childhood superhero dreams?”

Jake shines up like he’s been waiting for the question all night. “Oh, that’s easy. Die Hard.”

“Really?”

“For sure. Actually, my mom said I was always good at protecting people, so I ended up doing it for a job. But I think that’s bullshit. It was definitely Die Hard.”

“I’ve never seen it,” Amy confesses, and Jake stares at her like she just insulted his entire being. “But if you want a cop movie, my top three’s Training Day, Lethal Weapon, and Fargo.”

“Wrong, wrong, and wrong! How can you not have seen Die Hard? It’s classic, man!”

“I just never did! How many lawyer movies have you seen, then?”

“Uhm…” Jake squints. “Charles made me watch Legally Blonde once? It was pretty good, honestly.”

“Well, duh, that movie is a cinematic masterpiece and a feminist work of art. How feminist is Die Hard, from a scale of one to ten?”

“Hey! Holly Gennaro does plenty of cool stuff throughout the movies! You’re just going to have to watch them yourself.”

“I can almost guarantee you I won’t.”

“Fine, but you’re missing out.” He grabs a couple of peanuts from the jar between them, throwing them in the air and catching them in his mouth. “Cool trick, right?”

Amy raises an eyebrow. “Is this what you do at work all day?”

“I did teach myself that during stakeouts, but no. Whatever. Throw me another one.” She does, and he catches it again, this time almost sliding off the barstool in the process. She laughs a bubbling laugh as he does it another time. “Now you.”

“Fine. Try me.” The peanut flies through the air between them, and she tries to dive for it, but it just ends up landing at her feet. “Okay, another one.” She misses that one too. “Okay, there must be something wrong with these nuts.”

“Title of your sextape.”

“Title of my what?”

“Nevermind.” Jake laughs. “You just need some practice. Maybe at work? It could liven up a trial.”

“Nuh-uh, don’t need practice. Just need a better tactic.” Without thinking, she grabs a handful of them this time, throwing them in the air. This time, she catches a few of them in her mouth, while the rest end up spread over the couch and floor. “The key is volume!”

“Yeah, and the bartender is looking at you like he wants to kill you, so maybe don’t do it again or we’ll get thrown out.”

“It’s fine, I’m a lawyer.”

“That phrase works well to get out of trouble?”

“If you know what you’re doing. We could order more drinks to keep him happy?”

“Shots?”

“I’m down if you’re down.”

 Jake orders a Kamikaze shot for each of them, and as she reaches forward to take the second glass, her hand brushes against the top of his for a moment longer than necessary, resting there. It’s warm, and it feels calloused but somehow soft at the same time. They look at each other, his light brown eyes staring into hers, and she feels instantly hyper-aware that they’re around far, far, too many people.

She lets go of his hand, taking the shot and swallowing it before anyone can notice what’s happening. It smells like sour hand sanitizer and burns going down, and she laughs at Jake’s grimace when he drinks his.

“God, every time.” He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. “Hey, I know this is crazy, but… do you maybe want to get out of here? We could have another drink at my place… watch Die Hard… whatever.”

“Mm, yeah. Maybe I should check that the shirt gets back to your place properly?”

“Shirt? What shirt? Oh, right, fuck, the shirt!” Jake spins in place, rushing back to the table where they were just sat. “Shit, I probably spilled beer on it, Sophia’s going to be pissed now...”

“It’s still in the bag, smartass.” Amy shows him. “Ta-da. Shirt’s still clean. Comes in handy being type A sometimes, huh?”

Jake sighs. “I know you're making fun of me, but I could seriously kiss you right now.”

 Maybe it’s the four drinks, maybe it’s the thrill that comes with how rarely she does this, or maybe it’s just sheer and wild impulse, but Amy finds herself whispering,

“Maybe we should get out of here, then.”

 ~

 Amy learns a lot of things that night.

 She learns that Jake Peralta is a seriously good kisser, tasting faintly of orange soda beneath the alcohol and salt, and that being pressed against his front door with his hands protecting her head strikes the perfect balance between feeling adventurous and safe. She learns that he’s never really quiet, soft moans and sighs filling the room in the breaks between their kisses, but that the sound only makes her want more.

 She learns that he wears even more layers than her. Beneath the leather jacket and hoodie is a checkered blue flannel that has way too many buttons for her liking right now, and she curses her slight tipsiness while working at them one by one. When she's finally done, Jake pulls the grey t-shirt over his head, and she barely has time to pause to admire how he somehow can look fit despite that catastrophic diet, or the curls on his chest that are begging for her to run her fingers through them, before he's asking “my turn?”. She learns that Jake Peralta is impatient, that his hands work fast on the buttons of her cerise shirt, and that he gets adorably confused when he can't find the button on her suit pants.

“It's on the side,” she tells him and shows him the zipper, and then they're both giggling until she kisses him like that and it's back on again.

 She learns that his hands feel good, sliding slowly up the sides of her stomach and back and rubbing against her shoulder blades. She unclasps the white t-shirt bra for him, smiling to herself as he swallows quickly.

“God, you’re hot,” he whispers, and the soft bites he trails down her chest and stomach make her feel that way, too.

 They move to his bed, leaving a trail of clothes behind them, and then she’s underneath him and breathing hard as his mouth moves lower, closer. The anticipation of it all is driving her mad, but then he looks up at her and asks “okay?” with the most sincere and caring expression, and Amy’s had very, very few one-night-stands in her life, but she’s certainly never had one like this.

“Okay,” she nods, and there’s that familiar grin again, but this time it makes her feel warm in a very specific place.

 She learns that Jake Peralta can do a whole lot more with his mouth than talking people’s ears off. His breath ghosts over her through her underwear at first, warming her up even though it’s barely even necessary, and then he’s finally pulling down the black material and helping her kick them off. His tongue is careful at first, just tasting her as if to gauge her expression, but then she nods at him to continue and the next second, her head is thrown back as she lets out a gasp.

 She learns that he likes it when she pulls his hair. At first, her hands are just lightly tangling in it for practicality, but then she holds on tighter as a means of control when her legs begin to tense up and the familiar pressure is starting to rise. She’s raising her hips slightly only to lower them again, helping him get her there, and the curls of his hair are just begging to be pulled.

“Do that again,” he pauses to say, so she tugs his hair harder and he straight-up moans.

 She learns that he can make her scream, which she wasn’t expecting, and she rocks through the euphoric waves and pants and practically melts into the bed as she comes down from it.

“That good?” He winks, and she wants to roll her eyes, but he did just make her come harder than she remembers doing in a long time, so she kisses the smile off of him instead, tasting her arousal on his lips.

She learns that he's respectful and a gentleman, telling her that they can stop this here if she'd rather, but she doesn’t want to, and they don’t. He has to rifle through the drawer in his bedside table for a while before he finds a condom – maybe he doesn’t do this as often as she’d thought, maybe it’s another sign of his poor organization skills, but he finds one soon enough so she’s not sure she cares – and then it’s a little bit of a blur, but she rolls it on him with precise strokes and lowers herself on top of him and oh my god.

 She learns that when he looks at her, when he touches her, it makes her feel powerful and special all at once. He plays with her boobs as she sets the pace, his thumbs rolling against her nipples in a way she didn’t realize she liked, and she picks up her rhythm, clenching around him and leaning back on his raised thighs.

 She learns just how enjoyable it is to watch him fall apart underneath her. His pace stutters and he curses, groaning a confession of how close he is, and she could almost come again from watching him alone but she brings two fingers to her clit and touches herself anyway. He finishes before her, spilling out inside the condom with a moan that she can only imitate, collapsing against his chest as she brings herself to orgasm again right after him.

 When they're done learning, they collapse together in his bed. For a moment, Amy considers turning around and calling a cab home, because that would be the most responsible thing to do, but then Jake throws an arm around her to pull her closer, and after all, she's still a little tipsy.

What harm could it possibly do, anyway?

 ~

 Sharp, unforgiving morning light wakes Amy up before her alarm the next morning. She must have forgotten to close the blinds last night, she thinks, and rolls over on the other side so the light doesn't hurt her eyes. She expects the usual greeting of a sea of pillows, and has to stop herself from letting out a yelp of surprise when instead, she's hit with a wall of Jake sleeping with his back to her. A vague memory of them falling asleep like this hits her. He’d wanted to be the little spoon, she remembers.

 At first, knowing that intimate fact about him makes her feel proud. Then it makes her panic.

 She jumps out of bed, throwing off her part of the comforter in search of her clothes. She finds her underwear and bra together with her shirt, trying to dress as quietly as possible, quick before Jake wakes up and discovers that she's half-naked in his apartment and they have to have a very, very awkward talk –

“Amy? What are you doing?”

Too late.

 She freezes on the spot, chewing on her lip as she fumbles for an explanation. Jake’s eyes rake over her with curiosity, which somehow feels a lot more exposing today than it did last night, and it's making her lose track of her words. His bed head curls and disoriented smile is decidedly not helping her focus.

“We slept together last night,” she manages.

Jake’s smile grows wider and prouder as he sits up fully in bed. Amy blushes as she notices the shadow of two hickeys way too close to his neck to be professional.

“Yeah, I was there.”

“Very funny.” She sees her pants thrown across the back of a massage chair and quickly reaches for them. “But this… You know this can’t be a thing, right? Just so we're on the same page about it.”

Jake frowns. “What do you mean with a thing?”

“This – us – we can't date, Jake. I know that. You know that.”

He’s silent for a moment before he fakes a shudder. “Yeah, yeah, no. I’ve dated lawyers before. Never ends well.”

“You have?” The reveal surprises her. “It doesn't matter. This can’t happen.”

“I know.”

“Good,” she exhales. “I’m just going to find my clothes, then, and then I’m going to leave.”

“Hey, wait.” He twists his hands together, bringing them to his chin with a smile. “This is going to sound weird, but… even if nothing can happen between us, I’m still glad we had sex last night.”

 The confession takes her by surprise, and Amy wonders again if she just doesn't know anything about one-night-stands. Sleep together, have fun, sneak out in the morning before anything can go deeper – isn't that how it's supposed to go? If so, she's majorly failing, because she can't stop herself from giving him another shy smile in return.

“Me too. Just because, we were like… really good at it.”

“Stupid good!” Jake exclaims. “It makes no sense!”

“We still can't date, though,” she reminds him. “So how do we work this out?”

“Well, it sort of looked like you were planning to just leave, and I’m not going to stop you if that's your choice, but… there is one more option.”

“What are you thinking?”

“We could be friends with benefits,” he shrugs. “None of the commitment, none of the weird incompatibilities between a cop and a lawyer, just us and some stupid good sex.”

“Friends with benefits? Do the kids really say that, still?”

“I’m saying you could consider it.”

 Amy's first instinct is to protest, to say absolutely not and leave on the spot. Her relationship history may not contain that many names, but at least they’ve all been fairly straightforward and conventional. She's never done something like this before, and the mere idea of jumping into something so unknown with someone like Jake scares her shitless.

 Then again, she's also never been with someone like Jake. Yesterday hadn't been a date, but it had still been better than all the awkward dinners and half-hearted walks she's been at since she broke up with Teddy a year ago. And the sex – well, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't already thinking of doing that again.

 “There would need to be rules,” she says.

“Sure, we can come up with some.”

“I’ll write a contract.”

“We need a contract?”

“Yeah,” she decides. “If this is going to work, we need a comprehensive set of rules, and they need to be written down, because I don't trust you not to adjust them in your head last minute.”

“How am I attracted to you? But, fine.”

Amy shakes her head, closing the last button on the shirt that had been left unbuttoned until now. “So… I’ll put together a draft and bring it over tonight? Your place?”

Jake gapes at her for a moment like he can't believe what he hears, but then he nods. “I’m free.”

“Cool. I’ll see you tonight, then.” With that, she pulls on her socks and shoes, leaving before she can freak out again.

“Cool, cool,” she hears just before closing the door. “Friends with benefits. Cool, cool, cool, cool… cool.”

 ~

[reluctanx]

𝘽𝙉𝙃𝘼 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝘿𝘾𝘼𝙉𝙊𝙉 >> CLASS 1-B. || Fem!s/o

𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙄𝙉𝘾𝙇𝙐𝘿𝙀𝘿: neito monoma, itsuka kendo, sen kaibara, ibara shiozaki, tetsutetsu tetsutetsu, reiko yanagi, setsuna tokage

𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂 (𝙎) : n/a [?]

-Neito Monoma

!! 🧺 | he’s actually very sweet, just a bit playful with you

!! 🧺 | he cracks joke just to make you laugh because your smile means EVERYTHING to him

!! 🧺 | i’m pretty sure he’s a nerd at color theory and would ALWAYS point out how beautiful your eyes are. even if it has a darker shade, he just knows that it’s a beautiful color that he loves so much

!! 🧺 | he doesn’t let other people touch his bunnies besides kendo, you may also be the exception

!! 🧺 | overly dramatic because he knows you can’t possibly, truly handle his bullshit

!! 🧺 | his teenager crush on you is so adorable, because he’s always in denial. or refuses to admit he have a crush on you

!! 🧺 | seeing that you’re not comparing him to a villain because of his quirk, wether it’s a joke or not. you automatically gain a part of his trust and respect. deadass

!! 🧺 | he bullies people for a reason, and you better deal with that

!! 🧺 | very argumentative, trying to fight with him with controversial topics is useless

!! 🧺 | LET. HIM. TOUCH. YO. HAIR………. pls

!! 🧺 | even if he tries, he can’t keep up late at night. HE WILL fall asleep, so sometimes you’ll be left on read accidentally-

!! 🧺 | when texting… he’s a total different person omg

!! 🧺 | no because if your seat is next to his, he will pass you the answers for the math exam.. (don’t lie, i know you’re a total dogshit at this subject. )

!! 🧺 | he’s a real big fan of Vlad king so you better be prepared seeing some of his merch in his closet

!! 🧺 | seeing you in his clothes makes him feel weird. he’ll try to make fun of you but he’s just really flustered to look at cha’ i swear

!! 🧺 | it’s rare to see him swear, so when he do so.. dear god..

!! 🧺 | HE DOESN’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR BODY SHAPE, SIZE OR WHATEVER, HE LOVES YOU THE WAY YOU ARE AND HE WILL REMIND YOU THAT

!! 🧺 | “you love me o’ sooo much it makes you look stupid.”

!! 🧺 | “don’t tell kendo about this, but i like you. for real.”

!! 🧺 | pronouns first with this man, pronouns = priority, pronouns respected. period.

!! 🧺 | he would be such a simp for you..

!! 🧺 | not obsessive or possesive, per se just jealous in a healthy way

!! 🧺 | “i’m literally a low quality version of bakugo.”

!! 🧺 | THEATRICAL, AS FUCK.

-Itsuka Kendo

!! 🧸 | SHE’S LITERALLY A SWEET HEART *SOBS SOBS*

!! 🧸 | she acts like your big sister sometimes.

!! 🧸 | she’s so shy and intimidated when she gets to date you bro..

!! 🧸 | your hero name? your hero costume? gives no shit, she find everything about you AMAZING.

!! 🧸 | you’re the little spoon, don’t prove me wrong, you’re the little spoon

!! 🧸 | she finds you so cute (especially if you have chubby cheeks, cause like uuuUhhh…)

!! 🧸 | she dresses you up when ya’ll get a girl days

!! 🧸 | she doesn’t know how to cook, depending on your cooking skills; either you get to cook or ya’ll order sum shit idk

!! 🧸 | she have a whole romantic cottagecore playlist dedicated for you whenever she thinks about you i swear.

!! 🧸 | you participates in her activity of : “knocking-down-neito-whenever-hes-been-an-ass”

!! 🧸 | can’t even afford to scold you the first time ya’ll meet, you’re so beautiful *sob sob*

!! 🧸 | if you’re in a social group space, you’re her favourite person, ya’ll are the duo of the friend group

!! 🧸 | “can’t sleep? that’s okay me too.”

!! 🧸 | picky, very picky eater. ya’ll may have trouble ordering something.

!! 🧸 | you’re the ticklish person, she’s the tickler. if you’re not, she’ll helplessly try to tickle you..-

!! 🧸 | “SPIDER, SPIDER!!”

!! 🧸 | your luck booster, i stg

!! 🧸 | she likes seeing you with fake cat ears, you look so adorable in her perspective

!! 🧸 | “LET’S WATCH A DISNEY MOVIE!!”

!! 🧸 | fast typer when texting.

!! 🧸 | you’re her angel, you are.

!! 🧸 | wants to be a make-up artist somedays.. so you better be ready and prepare to be a mannequin.

!! 🧸 | “you’re so weird *faces you* you’re so weird.”

!! 🧸 | 256 HOURS LONG OF TALK AND CHATS WHEN SHE ENCOUNTERS A LONG TIME FRIEND AT THE MALL

!! 🧸 | she wants to be a princess, your princess

!! 🧸 | SAY THAT YOU LOVE HER HAIR AND SHE WILL FLUSH

!! 🧸 | “why are you so pretty 🥺’

!! 🧸 | cottagecore lesbians :)

!! 🧸 | holding your hands + kisses + pecks on the lips, physical affection <<<<<<<<

!! 🧸 | gives you her stuffies, trust me she have LOADS of stuffies

!! 🧸 | BLUSHES SO HARD WHEN YOU WEAR HER CLOTHES

Sen Kaibara

!! 📢 | you don’t understand, the amount of love he holds for you is HUGE!

!! 📢 | fairly confident when he’s fighting by your side, you give him confidence..

!! 📢 | bad habits to compare your beauty with his

!! 📢 | trying to make him blush? oh honey, you don’t have to try once you have a relationship with him..

!! 📢 | his smile <<<<<<<<<<<<<

!! 📢 | usually quiet but tends to be talkative ONLY to you

!! 📢 | his heart beats faster and faster when you get close to him, but his face says 😐

!! 📢 | “kiss me already, dummy”

!! 📢 | really likes anime actually, ya’ll watch animes or read mangas sometimes :)

!! 📢 | *strokes strokes, scrubs scrubs your hair gently*

!! 📢 | thinks you look so cute in his clothes but doesn’t mention it

!! 📢 | secretly tries to get one of the things you crave for (an item, celebrity’s autograph idk sum shit)

!! 📢 | mockery against you? not on his watch.

!! 📢 | his love language is physical touch *sobs sobs*

!! 📢 | rubs your hand gently to calm you down when you feel anxious

!! 📢 | old times french love songs of edith piaf is his jam..

!! 📢 | hopeless romantic :c

!! 📢 | insecure? not on his watch,

!! 📢 | gives you his juice box to you and only to you

!! 📢 | you’re his first kiss

!! 📢 | BEST HUG GIVER

!! 📢 | the type to put your hair behind your ears

!! 📢 | “you’re my everything..”

!! 📢 | KISSES YOUR CHEEKS INTENSIVELY

!! 📢 | loves to feel euphoric, you make him euphoric

!! 📢 | you get the blower during summer lmao

!! 📢 | buys you loads of icecreams during summer

!! 📢 | go to the heater side during winter, right now, right here.

!! 📢 | everything you ask somethinh, he’ll answer instantly

!! 📢 | want something? dont worry, sen gotchu’

!! 📢 | SIMP

!! 📢 | wants to be someone truly meaningful to you

!! 📢 | you make him feel special for doing literally nothing

!! 📢 | he loves you, so so much.

Ibara Shiozaki

!! 🌱| literally the momo yaoyorazu of class 1-b but more theatrical

!! 🌱| you kinda just already knew that she have a preference for girls

!! 🌱| “mo- mother nature? what kind of silly things are you spouting out of that mouth of yours…”

!! 🌱| you are literally babied by her

!! 🌱| good baker and easily make your favorite dish/dessert

!! 🌱| you’re her top priority, and she carefully pays attention to you. deadass, she’s the type to wipe your mouth with her favorite tissue while she’s talking about a serious matter with her teamates bro

!! 🌱| she’s such a nerd in the rom-com industry, and gets pretty shy when you proceed to do something that is similar to a scene about one of her few rom-com movies. (ex: kadebon)

!! 🌱| she laughs so easily..

!! 🌱| “you’re so precious.”

!! 🌱| she showed all the symptoms of “crushing” back then, and you already knew that.

!! 🌱| everytime you hype her up, she smiles widely

!! 🌱| she’s so gift giving, she can’t leave you without giving you a gift first

!! 🌱| all the gifts you gave her stays safe and sound in her room

!! 🌱| “i might never be your hero, but i’ll be the winner of your heart.”

!! 🌱| she wants you to wear her clothes so ya’ll can match :)

!! 🌱| she’s quite wealthy, so she buys you some expensive gifts that reminds her of you

!! 🌱| always wrap her arms around you everywhere

!! 🌱| teases you but a lot

!! 🌱| she likes to do gardening stuff with you

!! 🌱| full knowledge on plants, every flowers she offers you was because of a characteristic that reminds her of you

!! 🌱| her efforts to be committed in your relationship is so visible

!! 🌱| always slips a little ‘I love you” everydays

!! 🌱| your love, affection and attention is enough to repay her for her consistent efforts.

!! 🌱| gets easily jealous but tries to hide it, but you obviously can tell due to her uncontrollable blush

!! 🌱| as she is so gift giving, you’ll try to argue with her saying she doesn’t need to give her this much gifts

!! 🌱| she gets overwhelmed when you make out of an exam/mission

!! 🌱| loves to give you a head massage while reading a book

!! 🌱| come and stargaze with her >:|

!! 🌱| kisses the back of your hand

!! 🌱| show you off when she have the chance to

!! 🌱| compared to what you may have assumed, she puts a lot of trust in her words when showin’ you off.

!! 🌱| “everyday and everynight, you make me happy just by thinking of your silly little face.”

!! 🌱| HELPS YOU WITH HOMEWORK

!! 🌱| SLEEPOVERS!!

!! 🌱| she felt insecure about her hair, so the fact that you had he audacity to pet her head made her fall inlove with you.

!! 🌱| gets genuinely confused when you laugh at her dramatic behavior

!! 🌱| her humor is kinda bad, so she may laugh at the stupidest thing ever

Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu

!! 🦈| oh boy, everything would be so wild with him

!! 🦈| you cannot leave the room without giving him a hug first

!! 🦈| awkward, like really

!! 🦈| “you’re the most coolest— beautifulest—…uuh.. person!”

!! 🦈| doesn’t academically succeed a lot, but puts a lot of efforts in his works. every praises you give him makes him smile

!! 🦈| makes you laugh without him knowing

!! 🦈| please, he probably starts to laugh when you start talking too fast because he doesn’t understand-

!! 🦈| in summer, he turns his arms into steel so you can grip against it (since steel is usually cold)

!! 🦈| probably have adhd

!! 🦈| loves to caress your cheeks

!! 🦈| sometimes kisses your little fingers for fun

!! 🦈| buddies to lover trope :D

!! 🦈| uses kaomoji than emojis

!! 🦈| his favorite song is teenage dirtbag

!! 🦈| he requires a good listener as his s/o, because he is a very talkative person and bring numerous topics and persons at the same time when talking to him

!! 🦈| “you’re extra-beautiful..”

!! 🦈| offers a fish related plushie

!! 🦈| shows off his abs for you

!! 🦈| two dumb hoes doing shit trope

!! 🦈| “you kinda remind me of an otter..?

!! 🦈| “wanna be a teenage dirtbag with me?”

!! 🦈| he calls you the popular girl of the school for a reason.. 😭

!! 🦈| calls you tetsutetsu junior when you wear his clothes

!! 🦈| openly admit that ya’ll are in a relationship to everyone

!! 🦈| is actually ticklish himself-

!! 🦈| loves to kiss your forehead

!! 🦈| loves to point out how cute you are

!! 🦈| definitely introduces you to fatgum and kirishima

!! 🦈| he can’t really came up with a petname.. so he’ll give you stupid ones

!! 🦈| as you can tell, he’s clearly not experienced but he tries, for you :)

!! 🦈| okay but power couple

!! 🦈| “if you steal the blankets, i am about to put my cold feets on you.”

!! 🦈| gets out of hands when he’s too excited

!! 🦈| gives you back hugs when you’re not feeling well

!! 🦈| best caregiver 🥺

!! 🦈| adores you

!! 🦈| play games with you :)

!! 🦈| sends you stupid note under the door whenever you’re taking a shit-

Reiko Yanagi

!! 👻|| you managed to get on her soft side when you told her that she wasn’t weird in any ways

!! 👻|| very quiet and patient with you

!! 👻|| really doesn’t wish to disturb or scare you, but she can’t let go of you — you were so nice

!! 👻|| when you tease her.. she’s a blushing mess

!! 👻|| you’re the only person she hangs most of her time with

!! 👻||she thinks that you’re so, so cool.

!! 👻|| doesn’t know how to react to all of your compliments, just knows how to cuddle

!! 👻|| she makes you listen to her favorite genre of music

!! 👻|| she tries her best to make your relationship with her dynamic as possible!

!! 👻|| with that say, praising is one of her top quality

!! 👻|| as much as she doesn’t know how to handle your praise, she can slap you back with her

!! 👻||”hey.. how abour we kiss? uh- um.. if- if you want to.”

!! 👻|| is actually a good kisser-

!! 👻|| her only way to calm you down was to kiss you when you get overwhelmed

!! 👻|| reiko is a really good listener and would literally listen to your 5 hours long story as she stare at you the whole time

!! 👻|| when you mention that her bags were really cool… good job bro, now she loves you

!! 👻|| SHE’S SO CLINGY, LIKE REALLY CLINGY

!! 👻|| unexpectedly good in video games

!! 👻|| “w-whoa.. i didn’t expected you to wear my clothes..you look adorable..”

!! 👻|| gets truly passionate when talking about paranormal facts

!! 👻|| she loves to play with the strands of your hair

!! 👻|| quality time <<<<<<<<

!! 👻|| would always remind you how beautiful you are

!! 👻|| once you have her sweater wrapped around your body, it’s officially yours now because she says so

!! 👻|| soft spokesperson with you bro..

!! 👻|| seems more confident when texting

!! 👻|| she loves taking pictures of you

!! 👻|| she probably wanted to make you visit the beach during the sunset

!! 👻|| she’s so proud of you..

!! 👻|| “oh, you deserve all of the praises of the world.”

!! 👻|| can’t even look at you in the eyes,, you’re so CUTE!!

!! 👻|| never leave you alone, never will or would

!! 👻|| always grips on your shirt so that you don’t get to be lost in a mission

!! 👻|| regularly checks up on you

!! 👻|| gives you LOADS of snacks during lunch

Setsuna Tokage

!! 🐊| COMMITTED IN THE RELATIONSHIP

!! 🐊| literally takes you out everywhere on ya’ll date

!! 🐊| don’t be shy, skateboard with her

!! 🐊| literally asks to be partnered up with you during the sport festivals

!! 🐊| will do everything for you

!! 🐊| have a reptile pet, you’re the only person knowing about that

!! 🐊| CHERISH YOU UNTIL SHE DIES

!! 🐊| “my sweet sweet pumpkin pie!”

!! 🐊| “let me kiss you until you can’t handle me anymore, darling.”

!! 🐊| she loves snuggling to your neck and leave soft kisses

!! 🐊| eyes contact is important

!! 🐊| you’re her favourite person

!! 🐊| ya’ll be ruining your sleep schedule for each other

!! 🐊| you guys always wear something that matches with the other (a hat, item, shirt.. etc.)

!! 🐊| setsuna announces her relationship with you to the class as if she proposed to you in a mariage

aight ya’ll, bye!

[bipercabeth]

“your hands are shaking” + percabeth !!! 🥺 (ofc I went for the hands)

started this with the intention of writing a lil drabble between roommates ch 9 and 10, but it got away from me. here’s 1.4k of soft idiots and hands

Percy comes home from the last swim practice before states and promptly throws himself onto the couch, tossing an arm over Annabeth’s thighs and pressing his face into the cushion next to them, his skin and breath contrasting the pervasive cold their radiator fights against. Today was the last intense day, so she knows he's hurting even before he hooks his hand under her leg to pull himself closer and groans with the effort. Annabeth sets the notes she scooped up upon his entry down on the coffee table and combs a hand through his damp hair with a frown.

"Did you walk all the way here with wet hair? Perce, it's freezing out."

"Can you let a guy die in peace?"

"We both know it's my life's purpose to make sure you never know peace, so I'm gonna need you to answer the question."

"You know the answer."

She thunks him gently on the back of his cold head but soothes his responding whine by scratching her nails along his scalp. He purrs, a low throaty sound she feels through the couch and his grip on her. Her playlist plays through the TV, a soft instrumental meant to help her focus on school. Instead it zeroes her in on Percy's profile, the edges of him that soften in the light of their apartment and her company. Soft black curls drape over his eyes, and she pushes it back to find them closed in contentment. A finger traces the line of his jaw of its own volition, soft and feather-light against the hard edge. She trails it down his crooked nose, which was broken one too many times to heal straight, and rides the bump over the dusting of freckles. Her fingertip only just traces his lips before he presses the barest of kisses to it, nearly shocking her into recoiling. Of all the sideways attempts at kissing him to express her feelings, he has never once made that move. It's just a whisper against her pointer finger, not her collarbone or cheek or wherever else she's laid her lips on him in a moment of courage, but it's significant all the same.

Instead of telling him that, she says, "If you get sick five days before states because you walked outside with wet hair in February, I'm actually gonna kill you.”

Percy ignores her threat. "Just wanted to get home to you."

"Well that's...incredibly hard to be mad at you over."

"It is, isn't it?" The corner of his mouth lifts just so, hinting at the dimple she knows will press into his cheek at a moment's notice.

"I take it back. I'm mad." She lifts his arm off her legs and attempts to scoot away, but he catches her around her legs again. She lets herself be manhandled, knowing her smile will betray her posturing the moment he looks up at her.

He pulls her closer than last time, now laying his head on her thigh, his cheek smushed against her sweatpants. "How's studying going?"

Annabeth's gaze flickers to the pile of books on the coffee table. "It's...going, I guess."

"You feeling okay?"

"Yeah, just..." She exhales and looks back to Percy, the most peaceful thing in the living room. "Midterms, ya know?"

"Like last time?"

There's an undercurrent of concern to his voice, one Annabeth is used to hearing but can never quite comprehend being directed her way. "No, not like last time. A good, normal amount of exam stress and existential dread." Her hand returns to his hair, which warms under her touch. "Is that why you hurried home?"

He looks up at her then, earnest despite the long day. "I just wanted to spend some time with you before our week explodes. You not going crazy is an added bonus though." His eyes undermine his tone as they search Annabeth's face, checking for eyebags and other signs of stress. Seemingly satisfied with his findings, he tucks his cheek back against her leg.

Resigning herself to being done with school work for the night, Annabeth nudges Percy and asks him to fish for the remote between the cushions. They're mid season six on New Girl, and she's hoping to finish before the week is up. Percy finds the remote and bends awkwardly to pass it to her behind his head.

"Percy, your hands are shaking," she says, taking the remote and his hand into her own.

"Practice was brutal today," he sighs. "Coach gave us this arm exercise where you do this between each stroke"—he flexes his hand before making a fist and opening it again—"for some reason. Threw us off for the beginning of practice, but it made us work harder in the end. That was probably the point, but right now it just sucks."

"Sit up."

"Annabeth, I can't ask you to—"

"You're not asking for anything. I'm telling you to sit up."

Percy heaves himself out of Annabeth's lap and rests against the back of the couch, turning to jelly in his attempt to protest. Paying him no mind, Annabeth throws her legs over his like a seatbelt and takes his far arm into her hands.

"Forearms bad?" she asks.

"It's all bad."

Annabeth rolls her eyes and flips his palm to the ceiling, feeling a slight tremor from the angle once more. She presses her thumbs from his knuckles to his wrist, the soft flesh of his palms malleable beneath her touch. They're the slightest bit clammy too, she notes with a small smile. They weren’t before her legs were in his lap.

Before long she moves to his forearms, anchoring his palm on her knee while she digs into the muscle and pushes out the lactic acid. Just as she reaches his elbow, she realizes she forgot to do anything with the TV.

"You can turn on whatever you like. I'm just gonna focus."

His voice is close. "I like watching you focus." Annabeth doesn't remember scooting almost entirely into his lap, though she's been leaning in the higher she travels up his arm. Doesn't mean she's ready to look up—with her tongue poking out in concentration, no less—and find his face inches away from hers.

Percy clears his throat and offers her his upper arm in the form of an escape. Annabeth takes it, sinking her fingers into his bicep and working out the stiffness.

It's a nice arm. Two of them, actually—he has two very nice arms. Objectively. From an artist's standpoint. It's no wonder Rachel used to use him as a model for anatomy studies in her drawing classes. He has good anatomy. Solid. Streamlined. A true swimmer's build, all broad shoulders and tapered torso.

Annabeth gives the swell of his shoulder one last squeeze and switches arms, scooting away slightly to make room for his wingspan. She starts the same way as last time: with his palm face up in hers. Her hands have memorized this route by now, so she lets her mind wander as she sets about his forearm.

"How's practice been? Besides the obvious, I mean."

"Do we include Sloan being a dick in the obvious?"

She can't help the way her fingers dig in. "No. You tell me about that. Always."

He sets his free hand on her shin for a moment, putting out a bit of her fire. "Nothing serious. Just stupid comments, usually under his breath. He's not going to try anything with Coach watching him the way he has been."

Annabeth focuses her frustration into her work, ignoring Percy's wince. "You promise you'd tell me if it was bad?"

"Do I have a black eye?"

She makes a show of looking. "Nope."

"Then he didn't say anything bad."

Annabeth finishes his arm and frowns. "That just means you didn't get hit." She picks up both of his hands and checks his knuckles. The skin is unbroken and unbruised, and he didn't wince at all when she worked his palms. In a lapse of restraint, she presses her lips there. "Keep 'em that way, okay?"

He chuckles, and she watches his Adam's apple move. "Yes ma'am. You done?"

She releases him with a flourish. "All done. Nothing to do now but wait."

Percy looks at her, his eyes dark. "I know the feeling."

[5uptic]

crewfu: fanfic spotlight!

We work together by Anonymous (5up & DK, unrated, gen | 248 words)

Summary: One likes plants and baking, the other loves to create and design video games. They stay up and create monstrosities together, it's their fun, it's their favourite game. Aka a 5up and Dk roommate au!

No matter how life tangles, I’m still here with you. by hungryandsleepy (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 279 words)

Summary: 5up has been working so hard on his new map, and of course, he needs someone to give him a motivation to go to sleep.

objectively pretty by vesque (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 462 words)

Summary: steve is drunk. he's pretty sure 5up is too. that doesn't mean being called pretty is any less momentuous.

you plus me by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 489 words)

Summary: 5up and Steve meet.

he said to me by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 656 words)

Summary: 5up and Steve share a moment.

by the snowmen by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 670 words)

Summary: Steve has a moment when it's all over.

today you got to know me (a little bit too slowly) by runninohhoney (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 675 words)

Summary: Steve lights up a cigarette. 5up doesn't smoke.

what would it take by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 787 words)

Summary: It's Steve's first mission. He hecks up. Or does he?

sorta cute by floweruru (5up/Steve, unrated, m/m | 822 words)

Summary: ‘I wouldn’t do that,’ he said. ‘That’s just disrespectful,’ he said. Yet there was 5up, crushed like a can in Steve’s embrace, feebly kicking at nothing as his feet leave the pavement.

i was gonna kill u, but ur kinda cute?? by Cthulhuer (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 1k words)

Summary: Steve is a mess and 5up is worse.

I hear a Symphony by AwkwardAce (5up/Fundy, unrated, m/m | 1.1k words)

Summary: He exhaled until his lungs ached for air, fingers twitching as he opted to remove the sleek white gloves he wore in a feeble effort to soothe himself. It didn’t work. He wrung his trembling hands together as his eyes raked down the worn leather case taking in the doodles- some etched some drawn- across the faded surface. He snapped the buckles open and his breath hitched, catching in his already tight throat. For a moment the world span, his head throbbed and he wanted nothing more than to run and hide. 5up breathed out slowly, shakily.

staring by lytriis (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.1k words)

Summary: steve asks 5up out. 5up doesn’t know how to respond.

and it's four am, and yet, you're here by vesque (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: in which steve shows up at 5up's house, in the middle of the night, completely spontaneously

more than this by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: Steve catches 5up venting.

3:15 by vesque (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: Steve tries to guess Five's name. It's much more difficult than he anticipated.

things were different by fourpebbles (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.5k words)

Summary: His eyes circled around to his friends, Kimi and Janet engaging in pleasant comversation, sleepy and becoming increasingly more sober. He looked, finally, across him, and caught Dumbdog staring at him. What now bro, what did this guy want. small talk, turns into not small talk, then there's no talk

Once Upon A Dream by SmearedWords (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.5k words)

Summary: 5up looks ethereal, while Steve is struggling to breathe. "You're not real either." Or: Steve has a crush and a nightmare in three parts, 5up is tired, the crew life is hard and Polus sucks.

the ones you love will call you back by homeward_bound (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.8k words)

Summary: stevesuptic: dude, is it weird that i miss vegas   DumbDog: No? I do too.   stevesuptic: okay [steve misses vegas and apollo. they talk about it]

cough it out by cj__writes (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2k words)

Summary: Apollo thinks that Steve must be well and truly gone, at this point, because he giggles, like Apollo’s just told a particularly funny joke. He looks Apollo right in the eye and asks, “Do you trust me?” “Absolutely not.”

ivy by Secular_Czar (5up/Steve, teen rating, gen | 2.1k words)

Summary: It might be a sad day, in general, but Steve isn't about to let it get to him. His friends won't ever let him wallow either.

The Colosseum by WhenTheFogClears (general rating, gen | 2.1k words)

Summary: Five squinted, looking at the colosseum intensely. He thinks Apollo was latched onto the sphinx’s shoulder, fur matted with blood. Janet was slumped against a column, probably out, with Kimi whose bow was snapped in two, her leg twisted at an odd angle. DK was in the corner trying to cast various supporting hexes and charms with a broken arm, whilst Hafu was dragging a heavily bandaged Steve away. or 5up slaughters a cat

Oneshots :) by woofles1990 (5up/Fundy, 5up/Steve, teen rating, multi | 2.5k words, oneshot collection)

Summary: Just a bunch of MCYT/Among Us oneshots, mainly featuring 5up's crew because yes :)

the adventures of 5up and steve staying up late because they're under 30 by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.5k words)

Summary: “The night is young!” Steve yells at the ceiling, throwing his hands up in the air. “Take advantage of it! Commit crimes! Fuck hoes!” Five catches his hands in the air and laughs. “You wish you had hoes.”

unreasonably in love by cj__writes (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.6k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: "It was like pieces of a puzzle, everything coming together. And now, here they are, standing in their apartment, which looks more like a hollow shell than a home, filled solely with scattered boxes and the minuscule amount of furniture that they brought with them to Vegas." Or: what happens after Apollo and Steve move in together.

cant be love by fourpebbles (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 3.5 words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: He had chuckled to himself, he felt so stupid. Who in their fucking minds names a playlist 'sugr?', he thought, internally cringing. A story where a Steve meets an Apollo, and some things happen.

Somewhere in the darkness, us together for a while by tumtummeke (Apollo & Kimi & Steve, teen rating, gen | 3.6k words)

Summary: Apollo worries about Steve. Steve breaks his vape pen. Kimi plays power washer. Self-indulgent angst, with a generous helping of friendship and cuddles.

odyssey by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 23k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: "First you will come to the Sirens who enchant all who come near them. If any one unwarily draws in too close and hears the singing of the Sirens...they warble him to death with the sweetness of their song. Therefore pass these Sirens by and stop your men's ears with wax that none of them may hear." -Homer, The Odyssey

Also: SilverSprinklez10‘s yupwaves collection.

Summary: This is a Harry Potter AU based on the characters/personas of the youtubers/streamers.

FAQ:

Wait what is this: pretty straight to the point! i’ll regularly share crewfu-related fanfictions to this blog :)

How regularly is “regularly”?: great question! LOL. it depends on the flow of fanfics that get uploaded, which i do not have any control over, but i’m looking forward to do this twice a month. after all, it’s only me doing this and i often run on a tight schedule.

What’s the format like?:

[title of fic with link] by [author of the fic with link] ([main pairing(s), if there is one/multiple], [fic rating: eg, general rating], [relationship: eg, m/m] | [word count in k] ([added prompt to specify if it’s complete or not)])

Summary: [summary provided by the author. if it doesn’t have a summary, a “No summary” prompt will be put instead]

(What does WIP mean again?): Work In Progress :)

Why are you doing this?: from the beginning, my blog has hosted conversations about RPF (real people fiction) and crewfu pairings. this has evolved into people sending me updates about certain fics in the crewfu tags every now and then, but i wanna take the next step and just do these things myself. after all, i’m already lurking in the tags often to see the fics that get posted. as someone who is both a writer and a reader, i wanna appreciate fanfic writers and help out other people that want to read fanfic and consume more fandom content!

Will it be AO3 only?: well, ao3 has a very helpful tag system that makes finding fics incredibly easy, as well as allowing people with no accounts to like and comment on fics, so that’s the site i will personally look in for fanworks. but if there are any fics you’ve written or liked in any other platforms, such as wattpad, you can always contact me through my inbox (send an ask or a dm!), and i’ll make sure to include for the next fanfic spotlight :)

Does it mean you won’t reply to fic asks anymore?: yeah, i guess. since i’ll be doing the searching myself it seems counterproductive. but if i ever skip a fic or again, it’s in another platform, or you’ve posted/read the fic a while ago and you want to get more traction on it, hit me up and i’ll take it into consideration!

Will you read every single one of the fics on your list?: oh no. again, i run on a tight schedule, and also i have my own taste when it comes to fics. i won’t be reviewing fics or any of the sort, and my intention extends to simply sharing these fics to this page so people will have easier access to them :) that’s where ao3 tagging becomes SUPER useful!!!

So what’s the criteria for the way you’ll sort out the fics in your list?: word count, going from lowest to highest. in case of fics in other platforms, i guess i’ll put them at the top of the list. i’ll also be looking for fairly recent fics, so let me know if you want any old-ish fic to be included.

I see you talking mostly about 5up/Steve and Steve/Apollo. Can I still send/see other crewfu fics?: why yes absolutely! my goal is to push every fic which heavily features regular crewfu characters - 5uptic and supdog just happen to be very popular pairings. so, to give you a list: core 4 (5up, hafu, dk, steve), apollo, aipha, annie, janet, kimi, ellum, koji... you know the drill. it doesn’t have to be centered on a relationship, or about 5up in specific, etc. my only requirement is that any of the previously mentioned members are a central part of the fic or are HEAVILY featured in it (sorry, minecraft fics with 50+ tags who only mention 5up as an afterthought won’t make the cut :/).

Isn’t shipping Bad™?: well, it’s a little more nuanced than that. i will go out of my way to discourage and shame people who often violate CCs’ boundaries by acting like so and so has a crush on this person, or that this and that are Actually Into Each Other or secretly dating. any sort of tinhat bullshit is a big nono (think larries). but i run on the assumption that people who write rpf understand that what they’re doing is simply write a completely fictional story using real life personalities, and understand the boundaries necessary to do it - aka they’re not tinhats, they understand they can’t assume everything about CCs’ thoughts and personalities, they understand that what they’re writing is strictly fiction, they keep these works only in fandom circles, etc. (but again, it’s only one me doing this, so please be kind if i don’t happen to know that this person is Actually a tinhat or whatever).

show fic: NO. (seriously. i don’t feel comfortable putting my ao3 account out there. please respect my privacy on these trying times <3)

I REALLY don’t care about your rpf/fic talk: fair! i’ll be tagging every single one of these posts as “fanfic spotlight”, so just mute the tag using tumblr settings so you’ll never have to look at these! likewise, you can follow the tag if you want to keep up with it, or search it on my blog to look at the other entries you might have missed (but this is the first one! lol).

Hey, my fic is here and I don’t feel comfortable with it being shared over here: no problem! let me know as soon as you can and i’ll take it down <3

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH15

This section has a lot of moving parts, and a few surprises in store for our resident mean girls ;)

Previous     First      Next     AO3

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

Chapter 15: Irresistible

Marinette stared across the street with a pensive frown, arms crossed, fingers tapping. She couldn’t bring herself to do it last night, partially because she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. Even now, she still didn’t believe it was real, but as Gabrielle served coffee and sweets to patrons in broad daylight, there was no mistaking it.

Gabrielle had a job.

None of it made sense. Why was someone like her working at a café? Was it punishment? Did her parents want her to get the sense of what the “commoners” had to put up with to keep her humble? HA! As if. Maybe it was a publicity stunt. Rich heiress works relatable day job. Rich people were always trying to seem relatable.

Marinette pursed her lips, equally as confused as she was when her old classmates believed every word out of Lila’s mouth. Something else was going on. Gabrielle wore a polite smile for customers, but it didn’t touch her eyes. She looked… tired. It was the same look on every businessman’s face when they came into the bakery before work—exhaustion from the persistent grind of a monotonous routine. Whatever the reason was, Gabrielle had been there a while.

Mustering up her courage, Marinette took a deep breath and cautiously approached the café. She slipped through the front door, peering around at the other patrons, though Gabrielle was nowhere in sight. Were her eyes playing tricks on her? No, she’d definitely seen her. She was probably in the back. Should Marinette wait? What was she even going to say?

“Can I help you?” a stern-looking man behind the counter asked.

Marinette jumped. “Uh, I was just looking for someone…”

“If you’re not ordering, then get out.” He looked every bit as capable of throwing her out if necessary. Marinette understood why Gabrielle looked so exhausted with a manager this mean.

“I-I’ll have a coffee, please. Two creams, one sugar.” She dug out the correct amount of change and dumped it into his hand.

The man grunted in response before turning over his shoulder. “One up!”

Marinette flicked her gaze to the back door, but it remained shut. The manager sighed, stalking to the back with his hands on his hips.

“I’m just gonna go sit…” Marinette gestured to a table with her thumb.

A few moments later the door opened, and a tall girl slinked over to the coffee machine. Her hair was tucked inside of her cap, pulled low over her face. Marinette craned her neck to watch, but Gabrielle turned her back purposefully to hide her face. When the drink was finished, she placed it on the front counter and attempted to retreat to the back, but the manager cleared his throat, pointing to the table where Marinette sat. She let out a sigh before retrieving the drink from the counter and walking it over herself.

“One coffee.” She set it on the table with more force than necessary and turned over her shoulder quickly. “Enjoy.”

“Wait.” Marinette held out a hand. “Can I get an extra packet of sugar?”

Gabrielle’s shoulders stiffened, hands clenching into fists. She pointed to the supply stand across the room before retreating to the back, mumbling to her manager that she was going to take her break.

It seemed as though she wouldn’t be resurfacing any time soon, so Marinette pulled out her sketchbook and headphones, occasionally sipping her drink. She wasn’t going to let Gabrielle get away without explaining herself, especially after what happened last week. There was more to her than met the eye, and Marinette was going to get to the bottom of it. Gabrielle knew she wasn’t fooling anyone, so it was only a matter of time before she fessed up.

After a while, a green apron appeared at her table, and a perfectly manicured hand refilled her cup from the kettle.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed.

Murderous green eyes glared through Marinette, but she sipped her coffee calmly.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Gabrielle’s grip tightened on the handle, and Marinette had no doubt that it was taking all of her willpower to remain professional, lest she incur the wrath of her surly manager.

“Fine. You caught me. I… work here.” She cringed at the word as if it were painful to say.  “Congrats, you want a picture so you can show everyone at school?”

“No.” Marinette shook her head. “I want to know why.”

“None of your business.” Gabrielle snapped. Marinette shrugged, taking a sip of her drink while Gabrielle tapped her foot contemplatively. “Fine, but not out here.”

Marinette yelped when Gabrielle pulled her up, scrambling to grab her things as she was dragged to the back. Kicking open the door to the small employee bathroom, Gabrielle shoved her inside and pulled the door shut behind them. She covered her face, taking a few deep breaths before lowering her hands to glare at Marinette.

“I work here because my family is bankrupt.” She choked on the word, covering her mouth. “My dad’s an idiot, and now his businesses are failing, investors are pulling out. Three generations of wealth is drying up. They told the manager I was 16, so I can help pay for school.”

Marinette’s eyebrows raised in shock, and she gaped in silence as Gabrielle took deep breaths. “How long have you been here?”

“Since the summer.” Gabrielle leaned against the sink. “And I’m probably going to die here one day. Once news gets out, we’re going to be the laughingstock of the town. No one in their right mind will hire me to do anything worthwhile. I’m gonna be stuck serving coffee to poor people forever.”

Marinette almost pointed out that Gabrielle was one of those “poor people” now, but it didn’t seem like the time. Besides, she stood between Marinette and the exit, so goading her wasn’t in Marinette’s best interest if she hoped to get out of there alive.

Even still, seeing how broken and miserable Gabrielle was… Marinette couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. Just because she picked on everyone at school didn’t mean Marinette wished the worst for her. She couldn’t imagine having everything ripped away from her and being forced to work a job she hated. For the first time since moving to her new school, Marinette was the most fortunate one in the room.

Reaching out a reluctant hand, Marinette attempted to touch her shoulder, but Gabrielle shook her off. “I don’t need your pity!” she growled. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. You’re just gonna go run and tell your little do-gooder squad and spread it around school.”

“I won’t,” Marinette promised, and when Gabrielle glared again, she added, “Not if you don’t want me to.”

“Why? I more than deserve it after how I’ve treated you and your stupid little friends,” she said.

“It’s not my secret to tell.” Marinette shrugged.

“Wow, you really are stupid.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes, the hints of a smile tugging the corners of her mouth. “Thanks, I guess. I really don’t deserve that from you.”

“No, you don’t.”

Gabrielle pursed her lips before reaching out to pat Marinette’s shoulder awkwardly. She averted her gaze and turned to the door, though her hand hesitated on the handle.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I come from a very messed up world, and up until a few months ago, I thought that it would always be my world. It’s been hard.” She paused for a moment, then continued, “Ya know, sometimes when I see people like you, I wish it were me. I wish I knew how to be nice.” She opened the door and stalked out, leaving Marinette alone in stunned silence.

“Whoa,” Marinette said. “I thought she was being punished by her parents, but bankrupt.”

“That explains why she backed down so easily whenever you challenged her,” Tikki piped up from her bag.

“I guess it is true when they say that you don’t really know someone.” Marinette winced.

“Maybe you can become her friend and teach her how to be nice. That way she can make new friends in the future,” Tikki suggested, but Marinette let out a mocking laugh.

“Oh no, I got my answer, so I’m going to forget this ever happened. I think it’s what Gabrielle wants. Besides, it’s not my job to go around fixing every broken person I come across. Look how well that went with Lila,” Marinette said pointedly.

“I think you’re wrong about what Gabrielle wants, and while it might not be your job, I think you can’t help yourself,” Tikki said.

“Of course I can. Watch.” Marinette gently pushed her back down with one finger before strutting out of the bathroom and all the way out the front door, though her bravado was short-lived when another familiar set of green eyes flashed her a taunting grin.

Lila.

Marinette froze in her tracks, heart taking off into a sprint. A range of emotions bubbled in her core—anger, fear, sorrow, regret. It had been over a month since Marinette left, and despite her best efforts to move on from her old life, Lila could dig up all of her past hurt with one sinister smile.  

She sat at an outside table, patiently sipping her drink. Her posture was relaxed, purposeful, and a bit too smug for Marinette’s liking. This was no coincidence. Lila had been waiting.

“Marinette, it’s good to see you,” she said with a sugary sweet lilt.

“That’s the worst lie you’ve ever told.” Marinette’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”

“Enjoying some coffee.” She lifted her cup as proof. “Now, did I stop here because I saw you walk in? Well, that’s debatable.”

“What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing,” Lila said innocently. “I was just taking a break from a long day with my best friends. They all just love me, especially Alya.”

“Good for you,” Marinette said. She brushed past her, but Lila wasn’t finished.

“Even Adrien has been paying attention to me lately. He’s like a strand of pasta, you know? He thinks he’s so tough when in reality he breaks so easily,” she cooed. “If you put a little heat on him, he’ll bend to your will in minutes.”

Marinette stopped in her tracks, hands clenching into fists. “Adrien knows you’re a liar,” she said. “If you push him, he’ll tell everyone the truth.”

“Maybe, but no one else will believe him if he tries to out me. I think he realizes that. It won’t be long before he gives up and conforms. He really can’t stand to lose all of his friends like you did.” She leaned against her fist with a smirk. “It won’t be long before I take him from you too, Marinette.”

Marinette spun around, angry tears welling in her eyes and a sharp retort on her lips, but Gabrielle appeared to refill Lila’s cup. She surveyed Marinette’s tortured expression before trailing the coffee stream across the table into Lila’s lap.

“Hey, watch it!” Lila shrieked, jumping up.

“Oops!” Gabrielle pressed a hand to her lips as Lila wiped at her romper. “Sorry I’m a little clumsy. I’m still training.”

“Ugh, you’re lucky this time, Marinette, but don’t think that this is over!” Lila growled. She grabbed her bag and stalked off.

Marinette and Gabrielle stood together in silence before one of them inevitably cracked, and they both threw their heads back with laughter.

“Thank you,” Marinette said. “That was… nice of you.”

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Don’t get any ideas. That was for your discretion,” she said.

She turned her head, but not in time to hide her flushed cheeks. Marinette hated to admit it, but Tikki was right. Sometimes she couldn’t help herself.

♪♫♪ Turn Off the Lights ♪♫♪

“Have you thought about what I asked last time?” Adrien asked.

Chloe chewed her sushi slowly, purposefully leaving him in anticipation. He really hated how sadistic she was, especially when it wasted his time. Consorting with Chloe made his skin crawl, but after Marinette called to tell him about her encounter that afternoon, he couldn’t wait any longer. If he knew anything about Chloe, it was that she’d do anything for expensive sushi.

“You really have fallen down quite the rabbit hole, Adrikins,” she said, sounding impressed. “First you threaten to blackmail me if I don’t help you, now you’re bribing me. I always knew I’d rub off on you eventually.”

“Look, this isn’t about petty revenge or whatever you normally do,” he said. “Lila is dangerous, and she needs to be stopped.”

“I seem to recall a time when I asked for your help, and you didn’t come through for me.” Chloe examined another piece of sushi thoughtfully. “If it were anyone else in the world, I’d have laughed in their face when they asked for help. You’re lucky we’ve been friends since we were in diapers, Adrikins.”

“I know I messed up. I’m sorry.” He lowered his gaze. “I learned my lesson.”

“Good. With your silly little conscience out of the way, we can actually get some real work done,” Chloe said. “I do have a few ideas for you, but…”

“But what?”

Chloe leaned against her fist with a wicked grin. “I need to test your loyalty. If you’re going to lie down with the dogs, you can’t be afraid to get dirty, so I need to know you’re capable of breaking the rules.”

A chill prickled his spine, and Adrien shifted in his seat. “What kind of rules?”

“See? This is why I have trust issues, Adrikins.”

He sighed, squaring his shoulders and facing her head-on. “Okay, fine. I’m in.”

“Excellent.” Chloe clapped for her butler, then pulled Adrien to his feet. “Your father thinks you’re helping me with my science homework tonight, but you and I both know Sabrina has already done it. I threatened my way into a party uptown, and you’re coming with me.”

“But-”

“Ah, ah!” Chloe held up a finger. “Prove to me you have what it takes. Break the rules.”

Adrien’s stomach churned as Chloe dragged him down to her waiting limo. When he’d come to her for help, he anticipated having to push his conscience aside to get what he wanted. To make a deal with the devil, he had to be willing to sell his soul, and sneaking out to a party across town was page one of their contract. It would all be worth it in the end. For Marinette’s happiness, he’d sell his soul a thousand times. He was already clutching the pen—Chloe just needed to show him where to sign.

♪♫♪ Pretty Places ♪♫♪

“Marinette! There’s someone here to see you!” Her mother called up the stairs that evening.

Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed. Who would visit at this hour? She wasn’t expecting anyone. Adrien had piano practice. Macy had vocal lessons. Eliott and Martin were having some “guy time” whatever that meant. All of her friends were previously engaged, so who was waiting for her downstairs?

She set aside her knitting and slowly made her way to the living room. Whoever she expected to find didn’t compare at all to the tall red-head standing in the doorway.

“Gabrielle?” Her jaw dropped. “What are-”

“Is your room up here?” She pointed, quirking a perfectly-plucked brow. When Marinette nodded, Gabrielle took her wrist and dragged her back up the stairs.

“What-” Marinette gaped as Gabrielle shut the trap door and dusted her hands. “What is happening?”

“Get dressed.” Gabrielle ordered, but when Marinette remained frozen, she rolled her eyes and added, “We’re going to a party. Get dressed.”

“We’re what?” Marinette asked as Gabrielle threw her closet open and began digging through the rack.

“The son of one of my dad’s golfing buddies is throwing a party at their mansion tonight, and we’re going,” Gabrielle said. She sifted through hangers until she found a shirt and tossed it at Marinette. “Put that on.”

“Wh-”

“Do you know how to put on a shirt? Or does your mom dress you every morning?” Gabrielle looked her up and down.

“I know how to put on a shirt,” Marinette replied matter-of-factly. “I’m just confused. Are we friends now or-?”

“Gross, no.” Gabrielle wrinkled her nose and moved over to the dresser as Marinette turned her back to change.

“So, if we’re not friends, then what are we?” she asked as Gabrielle examined a pair of black jeans.

She lowered them, a thoughtful expression on her face before she shrugged and tossed them at Marinette too. “I can’t party with my old crew without risking them finding out my secret, but you on the other hand are stupid enough not to tell anyone despite how delicious it would be to watch my world crumble after I was so mean to you,” she explained while rummaging through Marinette’s shoes. “So, I’m settling for you tonight.”

“Thanks?” Marinette tilted her head to the side. “I think.”

“Where’s your makeup?” Gabrielle asked. When Marinette retrieved a small pouch from her vanity, Gabrielle’s eyes narrowed. “Ugh, this is all you have?”

“I don’t wear a lot of makeup,” Marinette said defensively.

“If I weren’t broke, I’d buy you a proper makeup collection, but we’ll work with what we have for now.” She tucked it under her arm. “Come on. We’ll do your makeup in the car.”

“We- wait!” Marinette called as Gabrielle descended the stairs.

“Hi, sweetie, is this one of your new friends?” her mom asked as Marinette scrambled after Gabrielle. They exchanged glances, and Gabrielle gave her a stern look.

“Uh, yeah. She’s one of my classmates,” Marinette said.

“Gabrielle Burton, it’s nice to meet you, madame,” she said in the politest tone Marinette had ever heard from her. “We’re meeting up with a group of friends to see a movie. Do you mind if I steal her for the evening? My driver will bring her home afterward.”

“Of course, you girls go have fun,” her mom said.

Gabrielle didn’t wait for Marinette to respond before taking her wrist.

“Uh, bye, mom!” Marinette called over her shoulder.

Marinette blinked a few times as Gabrielle shoved her into the back of a town car, and the driver headed uptown. Gabrielle turned her chin with one finger, shaking the foundation bottle in the other hand.

“Close your eyes,” she ordered. When Marinette hesitated, she added, “Relax, I’m not going to make you look ugly. I’d never be seen arriving with someone who looks like a wannabe beauty guru.”

Marinette pursed her lips but relented, allowing Gabrielle to make her over on the drive. Several times Gabrielle grumbled about her limited options, stating several expensive products that would have worked better. Nevertheless, she attained some level of satisfaction because she instructed Marinette to open her eyes and look in the mirror.

“Wow.” Marinette’s eyebrows raised. Her makeup never looked half this good when she did it herself—a skilled hand made all the difference. She peeked up at Gabrielle applying her own lip gloss and pursed her lips. “So, what kind of party is this?”

“Relax, goody-two-shoes, the most exciting thing at this party is wine. My parents don’t let me go to trashy parties.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes, removing her large trench coat to reveal a sparkly black dress with mesh cutouts along the waist. “Just try not to act too lowbrow, okay? Don’t embarrass me.”

“I’ll do my best?” Marinette said as they pulled up to the front steps.

“Great.” Gabrielle tossed her compact into her purse and kicked open the door. “Oh, and just because we’re arriving together does not mean you are allowed to socialize with me here. Don’t hang off me like a sad little koala. Go dance and have fun with other people.”

“Right. Wouldn’t want anyone to think we’re friends,” Marinette said.

“Exactly. I’m so glad you understand.”

Marinette took in the towering mansion with wide eyes, twirling around in the foyer to catch all of the detail work. She’d been hanging out with her new friends for almost a month, but she still wasn’t quite used to such luxurious mansions.

“Cut it out! You act like you’ve never seen crown molding before,” Gabrielle hissed. She closed Marinette’s jaw with her finger. “Just be normal.”

“Yes, because this is so normal.” Marinette gestured to the marble statue fountain in the middle of the foyer, and Gabrielle rolled her eyes.

“It is for these people. Now get away from me.” She spun Marinette around and pushed her toward the sitting room where various groups of people were chatting over hor d’oeurves before retreating to the living room dancefloor.

Marinette stumbled several feet, bumping into someone’s back and falling onto her butt.

“Sorry!” She rubbed her head, but the warm green eyes staring down at her held no contempt. “Adrien?”

[pixelwisp-archive]

Itadakimasu!! | Part 11: I'm Sorry (Written Chapter)

word count: 3.1k

The Mixtape: Thinking of you | CA, 1979

The music that pooled out of Onigiri Miya was anything but what you expected.  A small smile crept up onto your face - despite your best efforts - and with a featherlight touch, you crept into the restaurant, silently thanking the soft jazz for drowning out the creaks as you pushed the door open in search of a certain chef.

Osamu stood at the sink, hands working some leftover dishes from the work day. He hummed softly along to the music, and it surprised you just how nice  he sounded - how his deep hum complemented the honey voice that dripped through the speakers; rich, thick, and soft like velvet. You padded into the kitchen, clutching the wine and apron closer to your frame so as not to bump it on anything that could give you away, and allowed yourself a few minutes to listen and appreciate before ultimately ruining the moment.

“I didn’t know you could sing, Miya.” You brought a hand up to suppress a giggle as he stiffened and dropped the plate he had been washing with a loud clatter. Osamu bowed his head and cleared his throat, loud enough to drown out the music for a brief moment before it ultimately pervaded the kitchen once more. He grabbed the nearest towel to dry his hands before reaching for the remote, the music ceasing with a quick click. Once he turned around, your eyes immediately fell on the dusted pink that settled onto his cheeks, and you did your best to ignore the warmth that ignited in your chest at the sight.

"So, Etta James, huh?" Osamu coughed awkwardly, turning his attention back toward the sink to finish up the last few dishes that lingered in the basin.

"Ya know Etta James?" An affirming hum left your lips as you placed the bottle of wine and your apron on the island, eyes flitting over the rustic kitchen in search of wine glasses.

The kitchen was a decent size, the bright wooden counters and cabinets a stark contrast to the dark iron of the appliances, but it complemented each other and suited the space well. The soft ivory paint on the walls kept the overall area from being too loud compared to the rest of the restaurant, and you wondered if Kita was behind the greenery that added a lush, vibrant addition to the otherwise plain shop. Your eyes landed on a modest pile of cookbooks stored neatly in the corner, and you let out a huff of victory as you made your way over to the wine glasses that sat in a windowed cabinet above them.

"My parents were big fans, they've always had a funny fascination with America," you explained, and from the corner of your eye you saw him nod. The two of you relished in the, for once, comfortable beats of silence that followed, and you were surprised when he - for a second time since you had met him - decided to be the one break it.

"My Ma used to have this busted up, old, mix tape that she would play every night when she made dinner. Got it at a flea market when she spent a semester abroad in California. She always talked about how she wished she could visit again." The fondness in his voice made your heart squeeze. You busied yourself, listening intently as you placed two wine glasses onto the counter and filled them generously. "Eventually the cassette broke from years of abuse, but I managed to find the songs and make her a playlist. She still listens to it, every night, and I guess I got so used to it that it feels almost...wrong, to cook without hearin' it in the background, even though I'm not home anymore." You slid one glass over to him and he raised a brow at it, a soft smile pointed your way.

"I think ya skimped me a bit," he joked, and you chuckled sheepishly, a hand coming to scratch the back of your neck.

"What can I say, I like my wine." He chuckles as you reach for the small remote. 

"You didn't have to stop it, you know. I love me some Etta," you said, and his smile widened ever so slightly as you pressed play, the smooth voice fluttering through the speakers once more, softer this time as you adjusted the volume. You lifted the wine glass to your lips, taking a tentative first sip. The second the bittersweet liquid hit your tongue, you closed your eyes and sighed into the familiarity. It flashed you back to Tokyo; the seemingly endless nights on the balcony with Tendou and Semi, your drunken laughter rivaling the music in volume as Semi sang along with fervor - but, really, does anyone sound good when they're nearly a bottle deep?

Reality slammed into you like a meteor, and you were instantly struck back into the present moment, meeting Osamu's eyes as he watched you curiously. You felt the warmth crawl up your neck from the embarrassment, and you cleared your throat in the hopes that you could divert his attention to literally anything else.

"So,  are you gonna teach me how to properly make some Onigiri tonight?" His eyes fell on the apron you brought, the one he gifted to you, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise as his lips settled into a playful smirk.

"Who said anythin' about 'teach'? I said I'd show ya how I make it; I didn' say nothin' about teachin' ya."

"And miss out on learning how to make Onigiri Miya's signature dish? No way." Osamu scoffed as you grabbed your apron and began tying it around your waist. His arms folded in front of him, his lips a thin line. You couldn't tell if he was thinking or already disapproving.

"This was meant to be an apology, you know," he started, but you cut him off.

"I know! And what better apology than by helping me perfect my shaping?" The resigned sigh that followed meant a victory for you, the grin proof enough for both of you that you had won. "So, what are we making today?"

"I figured I'd keep it simple tonight. Ya like fatty tuna?" Of course you do.  Who doesn’t? "Great, let's get started then."

To be honest, you weren't expecting Osamu to be as patient with you as he was. Even though you were decently acquainted with the 'art form' that was Onigiri (as so eloquently and dramatically described by Osamu), you decided to entertain him and pretend to struggle with every step - over shredding the tuna, spilling the spices, adding too much mayo - in the minor hope that you could catch him stressed and maybe a bit frustrated - but to your somewhat disappointment, mostly pleasant surprise, every effort to get at least a furrowed brow or a groan was met with a warm smile, sometimes a breathy chuckle, and a strong pair of arms gently guiding you through the correct steps.

It was as equally frustrating as it was endearing.

"Now ya wanna dip yer hands into the dish of water I left on the side for ya, yeah, great, that's it - now grab a pinch of salt - not too much, just a pinch, and ya wanna rub it into yer hands to prep for the rice."

"What if I have a cut somewhere?"

"Do ya have a cut?"

"Well, not that I know of, but what if there's a cut I don't know about?"

"Well then I guess we'll find out soon, won' we?"

You huffed, but nonetheless pinched the tiny mountain of salt and collected a modest amount before tentatively rubbing it into your hands. Your shoulders were stiff the entire time, prepared for the sudden sting on the off chance the salt decided to acquaint itself with an unknown wound on your hand. You heard Osamu stifle a laugh, and your eyes met his as he smirked at your cautious form.

"Stop staring at me, focus on your own stupid rice ball." He laughed - loudly, beautifully - and you felt your hands tremble the slightest bit as you tried to put all of your focus on making a stupid, dumb triangle out of some stupid, dumb rice.

"Need some help?" You merely grumbled in response as the little bundle of rice and filling crumbled in your hands, despite your feeble attempts at shaping it. He set his own, perfectly shaped, onigiri aside and scooched over to you, his arms reaching around your form, chest pressed lightly against your back. "Yer pressing in too softly, so the rice isn't holding. Cup yer hands like this-" he cupped your hands within his own "-just like that. Now press a little firmer, like this." You were trying your best to pay attention to what he was showing you, you really were - but you couldn't help but marvel at how soft his hands were. You expected them to be rough; calloused from years of cooking, volleyball, and the handyman side hobby, but clearly that wasn’t the case. What kind of lotion did he use to make them feel so smooth? Probably some fancy homemade Aloe Vera lotion Kita made for him, you thought with a scoff.

This new revelation had also made you hyper aware that your hands were not, in fact, soft - countless burns, cuts, and other various acts of carelessness in the kitchen have given your hands a battle worn texture that no amount of hoity toity, all natural Aloe Vera would be able to soften up. He must have been cringing inside just having to touch the absolute burlap that is your haggard looking, stupid hands, oh god-

"Nice job, yer doin' great." The gentleness in his voice plucked you from your inner turmoil, effectively grounding you back to the task at hand. What was once a crumbling mess of rice and tuna now stood a beautifully crafted onigiri, the plump triangle nestled snuggly in between your hands. A gasp left you as you beamed at the finished product, and you whipped your head toward him, twisting slightly within his grip so you could face him properly.

It was then that you realized just how close he was to you.

Whatever words you had planned to say to him died in your throat as your brain tried to comprehend why the hell his face was so close to yours. Osamu seemed to be in a similar state of shock, eyes wide and mouth emulating a fish, opening and shutting when the words weren't coming to him. From the way your own mouth gaped, you imagined you shared a similar expression.

Simultaneously, almost comically, you separated yourselves and severed eye contact, Osamu finding something above you particularly interesting. What exactly, you weren't sure - you were too busy eyeing every minute detail of the remarkably plain tile flooring.

Like an awkward embrace from an old friend you never truly vibed with, the uncomfortable silence settled between you two once again.

It would have almost felt nostalgic, if you didn't hate it with a seething passion.

'And my arms need someone, someone to enfold'

The playful jazz number cut through the silence, and you mentally cursed Etta for clearly not reading the room - your arms were certainly not looking to enfold anybody at the moment, and you imagined it was likely that Osamu felt the same.

You spun back around toward your work station, a quick roll of your shoulders the only indication that you were gonna keep working, because you sure as shit didn't trust whatever would have come out of your mouth had you chosen to open it. Lucky for you, he seemed to get the hint and moved back toward his own work station, making quick work of shaping what he had left, while you continued to struggle, albeit far less than before.

Not a word had been uttered in the moments that followed, the music filling the awkward rift that split between you.

To be honest, you felt guilty that nearly every interaction between you two inevitably dissolved into a dense, unbearable tension; the once lighthearted mood suddenly cracked open like a fault line, the quiet settling between you like dust, and it always felt so thick that trying to bring the moment back its old, enlightened state seemed to take such an immense amount of effort - effort that neither one of you appeared to want to put forth.

You wondered if Osamu shared a similar sentiment.

While you finished up the last of your onigiri, you allowed your attention to flicker to Osamu as he eyed the leftover tuna filling with seemingly great interest, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. You watched as he scooped the mess onto his finger, putting obvious effort into keeping it balanced as he brought the teetering pile to his lips. Right as he went to close his lips around his finger, the tiny mountain fell, smearing onto his chin and landing on the counter with the saddest little ‘splat’ you'd ever heard. The disappointment he exuded at his misfortune is what ultimately broke you, and you laughed - a bright, gleeful sound that dispelled the suffocating air in an instant, and made you feel like you could finally breathe again (which was ironic, considering how out of breath you were from the incessant giggles that sprung free with absolutely no regard for your lung capacity).

Your hand flew to your mouth in an (admittedly failed) attempt to stifle yourself, as well as possibly save the last shred of rapidly waning dignity Osamu was probably holding onto for dear life. You folded in on yourself, laughter bouncing off the restaurant floor and - again, probably - stabbing directly into Osamu's crumbling pride.

Just as you opened your mouth to apologize, Osamu's loud, beautiful laugh cut through your own, and at the sight of his uncharacteristically bright smile, accompanied with the little smear of mayo on his chin, you realized that, maybe, probably, he was actually doing just fine; and that this - laughing with him - was something you'd never been given the chance to do before, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't something you wished you could do more often.

You hoped that, maybe, Osamu wanted that, too.

"So, I take it they didn't teach you how to make onigiri at your fancy schmancy culinary school?" He smiled as you bit back a groan. It was embarrassing, how ugly your onigiri looked next to his. Sure, you were joking about your incompetence in the beginning in the hopes to rile him up a little; but when it came to actually forming the balls, well - there's a reason the spite onigiri you made were small and round.

"You win this time, rice man." He boldly plucked one of your creations and plopped it onto his plate, while you opted for one of his. You knew yours were gonna have too much mayo and way too much seasoning, and you weren't about to subject yourself to that.

You took a bite out of the rice ball and audibly moaned - how is something so simple so delicious? He chuckled, lazy smile draped across his features as he watched you eat. The little sparkle in his eyes didn't go unnoticed by you, and you felt a tiny tug on your heart at how excited he was that you were enjoying his food, even if he wasn't being outwardly showy about it like you tended to be.

"'This time'? Does that mean we're doing this again?" You reached for another one of his as you hummed to yourself.

"Hmm, maybe. Maybe I'll force you to bake me some macarons." You were kidding, of course - you wouldn't wish that upon even your worst enemies - but the way his eyes brightened and he agreed with a small but noticeable lilt to his voice had you wondering if maybe making macarons wouldn't be all that bad if you made them with him.

He bit into your onigiri, taking a far more generous bite than you would have, and you snickered at the obvious attempt to conceal the grimace he had involuntarily made upon swallowing. The way he tiptoed around his critique of your failure was incredibly endearing ("It's not bad, just...mayo-y." "You don't have to eat it, you know." "No no, you worked hard, I'm gonna eat it."), and you felt the first little crack form in the walls you had begun to keep up around him ever since the curry incident.

The longer you enjoyed the food, wine, and - surprisingly - company, the harder it became to ignore the guilt that had settled onto your heart earlier in the evening. What started off as a mere twinge had become a sizeable weight in your chest, growing each moment you spent with him that didn't make you want to launch him off the summit of Mount Fuji.

"I'm sorry," you said, quiet and out of the blue. He shot you a confused smile.

"Pretty sure that's my job right now," he pointed out, and you offered a meek chuckle in response.

"I shouldn't have sold the dessert onigiri. Seeing just how passionate you are makes me realize the gravity of what I did. My ego was a little bruised and instead of being an adult about it, I openly insulted you and Kita by making a mockery of your business. I took it too far, and I'm really sorry about that. I'm sure it goes without saying, but I'm gonna stop making them so you don't have to worry anymore." He was quiet, staring at you in a way he hadn't before, and it made you feel far too exposed, playing with the rice crumbled on your plate as you waited for a reaction.

"I'm sorry, too. I only said those things because the idea of you expanding yer menu terrified me. Yer an amazin' chef, and I honestly think ya could run me out of business one day." His voice was soft, too; and you felt the crack grow considerably wider, your vulnerability peeking through pinched brows and hands that you couldn't seem to keep still. "I've always wanted to open up a location in Tokyo, and expand the menu. Onigiri made sense because it's always been a source of comfort, but as much as I love makin' em, there're others things I wanna make, too."

The air between you was...light. The weight that usually settled itself into your shoulder blades seemed to have dissipated, and you couldn't tell if it was the wine, the time, or Osamu. Maybe it was all three.

"I...I like it better when we don't hate each other," you said.

"I never hated you," he said.

"I never hated you either," you admitted.

"Does that mean we can stop pretending we do?" He looked you, and you saw hope.

You smiled.

"Yeah," you said. "We can."

Prev | Masterlist | Next

Fun facts -

Osamu listening to old 60′s love songs just did something to me ok, especially my girl Etta

Kita is 100% responsible for the plants 

Osamu’s mom kept the tape, even after it finally broke beyond repair. It reminds her of Osamu’s father, who she met that summer in Cali

he was another exchange student from Japan. They had a summer fling and inevitably said their goodbyes when the summer was over and he had to fly back home.

They ended up bumping into each other a year after she moved back - and fate has been a big theme for the Miya’s ever since. 

Osamu has always felt a little funny about it - it feels too convenient, and he doesn’t like the idea of not being in control of his own path.

He thought your ugly rice balls were disgusting, obviously, and he was sure to eat his own after the first one lmao

A/n - when you haven’t updated in so long you have to look at past chapters to remember how you formatted 😭. BUT ITS FINALLY DONEEEE, this chapter KICKED my ass oh my god but it feels so good to be finished and we’re finally moving into new territory~ I’m very excited for the next few chapters!! I hope you guys enjoy this latest chapter, please don’t be afraid to shoot me messages if you have questions!! I have a LOT of behind the scenes content that doesn’t make it into the fic sometimes and I’m always eager to share 🤩✨💛

Taglist (bolded cannot be tagged!)-

@larkspyrr @oikawaandkuroostan @fucktheworlddude​ @doctorspencereid​ @keiarma​ @cherriechurros​ @halesandy​ @k3nma-fairy​ @jewlmin​ @tabipleats​ @kaleidoscopekai​ @confusedturtle​ @vintagexparker​ @hoeevern @syaziahvg​ @hallothankmas​ @lilith412426​ @aurorahoneybuns​ @oikawakuns​ @reina-de-tay​ @prettyinblack231​ @snowyseungs​ @darlingkuroo​ @chloji​ @1sillylittlething​ 

[eutxrpe]

HELLO!!! tell me ab ur biggest selfship i wanna know >:)

uhhh... it used to be shinso but now it's one (1) atsumu miya. putting this under the cut lmao...

we have a stupid amount of artists that we listen to in common so we make a shared playlist for each month (he plays for our spotify duo like a true gentleman <3)

he knows i get anxious about physical affection so he often silently reassures me a lot about that MWDJOWISD i end up sitting in his lap while i write or do homework, his hands laced around my waist

we do matching/complimenting outfits a lot since we like putting in effort on our clothing styles a lot lmfao

atsumu's love languages are acts of service, physical touch, & words of affirmation while mine are words of affirmation & quality time. his unofficial love language is food (so i usually peel orange slices for him) and mine is music (so he sends "this song reminds me of you <3" a lot)

i can't cook to save my life. i also cannot stand eating for my life. atsumu hates this so he teaches me simple recipes he learned from osamu and watches me eat with a stupid grin on his face. (i am also a very, very clumsy eater.)

we have a lot of stay-in dates where we just binge horrible shows and make fun of the characters (i.e euphoria) but just end up kissing

if we go out, we end up walking to a park and playing volleyball (i was unofficial libero and backup setter on my team so it gets hella competitive) sometimes we'll do 2v2 with osamu & aran.

i steal his hoodies all the time. he does not mind.

i'm gonna stop myself lmfaooo but yea!! i love him

[sleepover saturday asks]

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

when/how did you realize beatles music was amazing and something you couldn't live without?

I'm trying to not start off every answer with "OOF" but you people do keep sending me loaded questions lol. That's fine though, I enjoy it, keep it coming! My close attachment to the bug boys (both their music and them) is new. It more or less started at the beginnng of May of this year.

I've always known about them and known a good handful of songs. We sang Yellow Submarine and Hello Goodbye in school, I have memories of playing Beatles Rockband once at my cousin's house and also the Love album used to be relatively regular car music for my family. Also, I was in class with someone who was obsessed with their music and sometimes she'd be playing songs. My opinion on the music for most of my life has been kind of… middling. There were songs I really liked or loved (like Help! or Eleanor Rigby) songs I thought were fine but didn't take much note of (something like Being For The Benefit of Mr Kite) and ones I just really didn't get the hype for (A Hard Day's Night comes to mind [I love it now]). But I have a sort of kneejerk sceptic reaction to people hyping stuff up for no discernible reason sometimes, and so the more I'd hear older people with little knowledge of music theory and history call them the be-all end-all of music, the more I sort of developed a kind of aversion to them. I just hate being told to respect and/or like things without knowing why, y'know?

PSA to older Beatles fans: you will NOT convince younger people to listen to your music by telling them their music taste sucks actually.

On the other hand, I had also sort of gotten the idea I should maybe go through their entire discography and get behind the myth of it all. I sort of attempted this a few times over the years, like I started listening to Sgt. Pepper once and then for some reason had to stop halfway, and I listened to the This Is The Beatles playlist on spotify a few nights in a row in 2019 lol.

What actually made me commit to doing it was 1) I had seen a LOT of backlash against Taylor for breaking the Beatles' records for 3 number one albums within the least amount of time in the UK last April, and like the sheer stupidity of some of the arguments being made why "Actually She Didn't Break This Record" really set me off (for example talking about it being "more effort" to buy an album back in the day… But the Beatles weren't competing for number one against anyone who had it "easier" to sell their albums and Taylor wasn't competing against anyone who had it "harder" than her. Or talking about absolute pure sales numbers when that's not what going number one means?) and 2) in a Discord I was in, someone shared a link to an 8-Bit version of Sgt. Pepper at the beginning of May, which I decided to listen to cause it seemed like good study music and I rather enjoyed! I found it really let their talent for creating good melodies shine through.

WHY DO I KEEP COMPLETELY EXPOSING MYSELF IN MINIATURE ESSAYS WHEN ASKED STRAIGHTFORWARD QUESTIONS

Anyways, so all of that made me go okay! I'm gonna go through this motherfucking huge discography then I will know this music better than a LOT of the people who hype it up and then I will be able to be objective about all of this.

So I listened to Sgt. Pepper and Please Please Me and then the White Album. The first was enjoyable but I didn't really ~get the immense hype, Please Please Me bored me at first (I think their early style is something you kind of need to get into and need to hear a few times to fully appreciate. But also Love Me Do sucks and why a record label thought it would be a good debut single is absolutely BEYOND ME) and the last one REALLY caught me off guard. There was stuff in there I loved (Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da is actually possibly my very first favourite song that wasn't a kids' song. I used to have to go to these psychomotor education classes and that song played there often and I adored it. Also Piggies slaps, send tweet) but also like a lot of stuff I found pretty weird and off-putting. And I still haven't warmed up to Yer Blues and Why Don't We Do It In The Road. That album did, however, get me very interested in the band. I think the weirdness of the album really just invited me to look into their history. I wanted to understand why they had broken up. That sent me down the rabbithole of the India trip history and I just kept reading more and more wikipedia articles related to all of it.

It was around this point I sort of came to realize that I'd had a lot of wrong preconceived notions about them, especially John. I was never someone like roaming around twitter, yelling for him to be cancelled, but he had simply never seemed sympathetic to me. For instance, IDK if I misunderstood what someone told me or if that person had misunderstood, but the story of John learning chords with Paul left-handed to follow him better (and maybe also Stuart not letting Paul change around the strings on his bass) had somehow been morphed into John finding Paul's left-handed playing off-putting and forcing Paul to play right-handed?? And I was like "Wow, what an asshole!" Also all the 1970 narrative that the two didn't like each other, plus I projected boomers' and gen-xers' Beatle snobism onto them and just got the impression they were pretentious narcissists. (I mean they were kind of that, but not to the extent or in the same way I imagined)

So I think learning these things opened me up to them more. Like I realized Hey! They were my age! And then at some point I found out about the Christmas albums and thought that was so fascinating, that that existed, (a huge part of my initial interest was my fascination with the marketing around them, which is why I watched AHDN and Help! super early on) so I listened to those and was like "Fuck! These guys are endearing!" and then I remember lurking on bug-tumblr and seeing that "Well that was very observant of them, because we aren't American actually" quote and I wanted to find the video of it and ended up finding this legendary video. And starting to actually like these guys and realizing they took all of this ten times less seriously than their Boomer fans do made me more excited to keep listening to the discography and look up more of the stories behind the songs and just kind of… Come to understand them better. I also found that once I accepted that some Boomers are just gonna hype up their fave music too much I'd enjoy it more. Like I'd listen to I Want To Hold Your Hand and get a bit defensive like "why do you love this so much??? the lyrics are so dumb??" but when I just kind of accepted that fact I realized no! It's an amazingly structured bop, which yes, has weak lyrics but it's fine!!! It's the Call Me Maybe of its day and that's NOT a bad thing!!

And in the end they have an amazingly versatile catalogue that covers most things you might be in the mood for. It is kind of hard (for me) not to like it.

There are still sort of two bands in my head: the archetype, the myth, the pretentious group of people who hate each other that I just sort of instinctively want to dislike and the band who sang all those songs I had NO IDEA existed and came into my life without any baggage or expectations from my part. I've pretty much never listened to say Hey Jude in the past months, even though I don't find it bad the outro is too fucking long because it's kind of got too much of that baggage to me still.

This was SUCH a ramble but I hope this makes sense to people to some extent. Anyways I'm a new fan, drag me, but maybe drag me more for how much I seem to know after three months. Seriously, this is a curse.

[aerial-aspie]

An Autistic Point of View 2

Hi there! It's Hazel and I'm first going to talk about what it's like to me to be autistic.

So for me I got diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome at the age of 14 and it has helped me understand a lot of my traits, which now I can articulate to you.

I'm obsessive and I mean very obsessive, once I find something I really really like it's all the occupies my brain day and night, everyday and sometimes to the point where I can't focus because all I want to think about is my obsession. A few examples of this was Vocaloid, BTS/K-pop and right now Genshin Impact.

During lessons, I struggled to stay 100% focused at all times because my brain always likes to drift off into dream land and I have to make a big mental effort to reign myself back into reality. This problem affect me when I used to take Chemistry (it was far too hard for my pea brain anyway) and the moment my brain switched off, BOOM! I'd missed a ton of information, even if it was only for 10 seconds.

However, now, after changing subjects and finding the right ones for me, I'm finding it much easier to control my need to daydream and can focus much better.

Next, I am forgetful. Imagine a sieve but only the unimportant information (normally to do with what I'm obsessing over) stays and everything else falls through, no matter how important it is to me. I hurt my knuckles over lockdown learning and needed to ice them frequently and it was very important, however, 2 seconds after remembering I needed to do that, you guessed it! I forgot about it.

Forgetfulness is hard, especially when at school because I need to drill my theory into my brain so hard because I will forget so easily. As well as at school, I have my phone and Alexa full of reminders to tell me to simple tasks such as to update this blog or to practice my piano or else I'd forget.

Lets throw in a weird one now. To be honest even I have no clue if this is an autistic trait but it's certainly something that affects me. When studying or reading I can't listen to any music with English lyrics. Why? Because I focus on the lyrics and draw myself into them and then struggle to concentrate when working because I can understand what's being sung. So my playlists involve game soundtracks, a few screamo bands (you can't understand what they're saying anyways) and Asian pop.

One thing that was said through my diagnosis is that it's possible I could have anxiety for life and as of writing this I'm currently trying to get therapy or medication for it.

Anxiety is isolating, it's painful with its physical side effects (which manifest in chest pains for me), it gives unneeded stress over problems which to others seem minor, it gives me panic attacks which range in severity, it gives a fear embarrassment, of messing up, of standing out, of being DIFFERENT.

Everything about myself I scrutinise, I'm trying to give up chocolate because it gives me so much extra stress that I believe it's unhealthy for myself. I must present myself in a way where I don't seem rude or impolite as I'm scared of how everyone will react. If I get into an argument or something I believe is an argument, I beat myself up about it and I feel like I hurt everyone around me.

I believe I'm a constant annoyance, when I'm around people I'm comfortable with I'm a chatterbox and you can't shut me up. But it makes me self conscious, am I talking too much? Is everyone just being friendly out of obligation? Are they all secretly annoyed at me? Are questions I ask myself daily and blame myself at some points for not being normal.

My brain sticks to the past and words echo my mind for sometimes years giving me fears that others would even know of. Such as the lessons about heart disease in biology always play in my mind to the point I want to give up chocolate because it's giving me so much stress as my brain is like OH MY GOD YOU ATE CHOCOLATE NOW YOU'RE GONNA DIE! And then I get stressed and get chest pains which only further add to it.

Now we got the heavy topic out the way lets move on! Autism has led me to have a fine motor coordination disability which has affect me my whole life, I can't handwrite well, I struggle opening tins, peeling vegetables, unlocking the door to get in my house, using scissors, folding things and the list goes on (and let me tell you it's long).

But you get the gist, I struggle with a lot of things and it can take me a much longer amount of time to work out things than someone normal.

I'm also extremely disorganised, actually that's a lie. I'm extremely organised but it doesn't look it. My room is a mess and I know that but I could tell you where everything is in seconds because it's what I call 'an organised mess'. I organise things but it's not neat, it's just where my brain decides is a good place to put things.

My school bag is so organised to point I don't like people touch it because I know where everything is and it has to be in the same pockets or else I'll get upset because it just has to be there and that is something no one can change.

However, even though I'm on that point of organisation, I still get stressed about if I have forgotten anything even though I never have.

Part of my autism is physical traits too, I am born with weak muscles in many places, the ones I know of so far are my wrists, knees, eyes and lower back. Because of this I can't handwrite long essays and have to have computer support to help me with this problem. With other areas, it's places I know I need to be careful when training at circus because I discovered my weak back after crucifix rolls on a cloudswing went wrong (it's a type of error that will always happen when learning this move) and I locked up my spine, from then on I've never done that move ever again.

Whilst being quite extroverted (only around people I'm comfortable with, if not I'm extremely shy) I'm actually very sensitive to things. I can't be touched suddenly or at my waist or I will flinch or flail and let me tell you, as I martial artist I do hit extremely hard in reflex. I also am sensitive to loud noises when I'm not expecting it, such as seeing war horse the stage show where the sounds of gun shots and explosions were played so loud that I had a panic attack in the theatre. However, at concerts, I'm fine as I'm expecting this loud noise and I know what is coming.

A weird thing I find about myself is that I'm very contrasting, I'm highly emotional but don't understand emotion. My first emotional response to any emotion is to cry and yes it is extremely embarrassing to cry in front of others (I believe crying in public should be normalised not shamed). Yet I can't understand emotion such as when people are sad, I don't realise it and happily talk to them and then feel like they hate me because they ignore me and then beat myself up for not realising they're sad when they tell me so. But it's not just sadness, being talked to in a firm voice, to me means they're angry when they're not, criticism means everything I've done is stupid and you get the point.

However, not only do I not understand emotion normally, I actually at times can't feel it, I get excited before a concert but when it starts I feel nothing, everything I feel just disappears and my mind is blank, so I actually have to force myself to be happy and then my brain realises I'm happy and I don't have to put in effort to sustain an emotion.

Now last but not least (remember how I said I was forgetful, it's already come into play here that I can't even remember if I've covered everything about my Asperger's) I can't do instructions, if I'm given a list of items I need to take, a long list of instructions to follow with no physical copy to reference by the time the last instruction has been said, I've already forgotten the first one and this has been fatal when I've ended up with really bad sunburn because I forgot to bring sun cream because the list I was given was too long to remember.

And that's it folks, my autism is a nutshell that's probably missing some stuff but it's as much as I can tell you from the top of my head and if I remember more stuff I'll make sure to post it.

Thanks for following!