#Kay honestly gonna tag this as

[unordinary-diary]

did a little doodle of Farrah

[noodlesnatcher]

Day 21: Misc Sketch Dump no.9

[penofwildfire]

Beginner: Green//flame is bad because it's gay and being gay is bad!!

Intermediate: Actually turns out being gay isn't bad so I guess Green//flame isn't bad.

Advanced: ACTUALLY actually Lloyd and Kai have a very brotherly dynamic, and Kai (along with the other ninja) served very mentor-like roles in his life from a young age, therefore it is a bit uncomfortable, if not morally and ethically questionable, to ship Green//flame.

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

There's this dating show (on Netflix?) called Love Is Blind, where the entire premise is based around the question: can you fall in love with someone without ever seeing them?

And I hate that premise because the premise has to ignore the existence of blind people to work. Because you can fall in love with someone without ever seeing them because blind people fall in love every day and there are thousands upon thousands of blind people in loving relationships.

Hence, the existence of and experiences of blind people undermine the premise of the show. So the gimmick of the show doesn't work if you acknowledge that blind people exist.

So the show is, for lack of a better word, blind to the existence of blind people. And the show works because most of the viewers are also blind to it. The show doesn't even have to go out of its way to obfuscate it or distract from it; the word blind is in the title of the show.

And I find this incredibly frustrating because it's yet another example of how invisible the lives of disabled people are to the wider population.

It turns out, however, that when you voice any of this, a lot of people get upset and feel the need to explain to you that you're wrong, presumably because they liked the show and don't like that you're criticising it.

These explanations are incredibly ironic because they literally demonstrate your point, and also, they're all basically the same explanation. Said explanation being that the show isn't about blindness and/or the show isn't for blind people.

Like yeah no shit, the show isn't trying to evoke blindness with the title; if they did that, the premise of their show would fall apart like a clown car transformer.

Oh, "blind people will never see their partner/s" so the show isn't for them? Thanks, buddy, for exemplifying my point with your counterpoint. You clearly don't know anything about blindness or blind people since you don't even know that most blind people can see a little bit, and you could have easily learned that if disabled experiences weren't so damn invisible and ignored by abled people.

And as funny as it is to watch abled people tie themselves up in knots trying to defend a dating show, it is also infuriating because you can't even say "hey, I think it's kinda shitty that the premise of this dating show ignores the fact that blind people exist" without abled people coming out of the woodwork to explain how it's okay, actually, because it's not for blind people.

It's not okay, actually, because the entire point of the show is to ask "can you fall in love with someone without seeing their face?", as if blind people don't already do that every fucking day.

You can still like the show; you can still watch it; the disabled police aren't here trying to commandeer your reality TV show. It would just be good if you'd listen to disabled people, pay attention to our struggles and fights, and include us in your damn activism.

[princess-of-purple-prose]

hi, if you don't mind me asking (since i saw you reblog a post about the orv webtoon): how far into the novel is the webtoon, approximately, now that it's starting the dark palace (?) arc? is there still a long way to go, would you say? sincerely, a huge webtoon orv fan who is trying to muster up the strength to pick up the novel

Hi, anon!! I'm so excited you asked this, because I myself picked up the webnovel right around the dark castle arc! So, um... yeah, chapter 172 of the webtoon is chapter 151 and a good portion of chapter 152 of the webnovel, and there are 551 chapters of the webnovel total. (To be even more precise, with the formatting I have on my phone, chapter 172 covers up to 2290 pages out of 8807 pages-- just over a quarter of the way through the story both ways.) There is, uh, QUITE a ways to go

That said!!!! I literally cannot recommend the webnovel enough, and this is from someone who started with the webtoon as well and then transferred straight to the webnovel where it left off at the time! The webnovel is such a different experience, since there are so many small characterization details that the webtoon doesn't adapt, and I actually bitterly regret not starting the webnovel from the start (I'm in the process of backreading, and I find new things to scream about every day!). There's no rush at all to read the webnovel all at once when the webtoon will take so long to finish, but at the same time, the pacing is so addicting that you'll probably speed through it till you're caught up or even beyond regardless! In case you'd like it, here's some info on accessing the epub file :) Happy reading!!!!

[earlyspringtranscendence]

love vespa & juno’s dynamic bc juno so severely reverts to being an 8 yr old blowing raspberries and it is the cutest most infuriating fucking thing

[sayakashairclips]

TECHNICAL SNOW DAY TOMORROW MY PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED!!!! here’s an alien cat doodle thing for your troubles (*⁰▿⁰*)

[bitchkay]

This whole fic series altered my brain chemistry.

🎸 out of my mind ! 💿 track five: the battle of the bands

guitarist!ino x drummer!reader

summary: it's the annual battle of the bands at the fix, your college campus's iconic live music bar, and this year you're taking the stage as the drummer for indie rock group cursed technique. you know the competition is strong, but no part of you is ready for lead singer and guitarist takuma ino. you lock eyes at the edge of the stage, and something starts—something that might make you feel alive even more than the beat of the drums.

warnings: language, alcohol, DOGGOS, yuji literally is just a ray of sunshine 24/7, mentions of drunk driving, so much fluff, ridiculous amount of kissing tbh, short time skip at the end, FINAL CHAPTER! || sfw. 8.8k words.

FOR THE FIRST time in a long stretch of busy days, you wake up not to the chirp of your alarm but to soft rays of Saturday morning sunlight seeping through the cracks in the blinds, painting your eyelids orange-gold. You crack an eye open and find Takuma stirring beside you. Right.

“Morning,” you whisper. For a moment, when Takuma opens his eyes, he looks surprised, and then he seems to remember why and how you got here and his expression melts into a soft smile.

“Morning, Skip.” He yawns. “Time’s it?”

You shrug. You’re pretty sure your phone is dead.

“Eh, it’s Saturday,” he mumbles. “S’fine.” You chuckle, daring to reach out and ruffle his hair. You don’t know what this is, the unspoken thing in the thin slice of air between you. You know what you want it to be, though.

For a while you both lie in comfortable silence, letting the sounds of the awakening house float up the stairs toward you. Murmuring, clattering around in the kitchen, the front door opening and closing, cars outside.

“Hey,” you say eventually, making eye contact. His eyes are a very deep shade of brown, dark but warm in a way that reminds you of old bookshelves or tree bark after the rain.

“Hey back.”

He’s relaxed, every part of him unhurried, and you take the image of it and stamp it into your mind over the memory of the night prior. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Takuma smiles. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Maybe it should be more awkward, the fact that you’re here in his bed in his clothes and you haven’t named whatever it is that stretches out in the silence. But it’s not. It’s just… easy.

“Skipper?”

“Hm?”

“I really, really like you,” Takuma whispers. The words wrap themselves around you, warm when you didn’t know you were cold.

“Yeah?” You bring a hand up to his face, trace the line of his jaw. His cheeks are a little colored in the mix of light slipping through the window and the cracked door. “I really, really like you too, Takuma.”

He cups your face in both hands, pulls your lips to his, and your whole body responds, pressing up against him in the too-small twin bed. Your hand goes to hold the back of his neck, deepening the kiss, and this is what people write love songs about, you fucking get it now, all the metaphors and cliché words you thought were exaggerations but no, they’re not, because you’re feeling all of them all at once and you don’t ever want to leave this moment in time.

“Like” doesn’t feel strong enough, not for this. You’ve only known him for a month. Is it really possible he’s already become so integral to the structure of your heart?

You’re kissing in the early morning light and it’s hungrier than you thought your next kiss would be, because even though all the rest of your days are rolling out before you, you don’t know how many there are. He twists so he’s above you on his knees, one of them between your legs, and it’s like a reversal of that night on the roof, like you can feel the night air even in the golden midmorning hours.

“Kuma,” you murmur between kisses, and he grins against your mouth, takes your next breath and makes it his.

At some point you’re interrupted by the startled growl of your stomach, and you break apart, unable to stifle the giggles rising up in your throat. “Well.”

“Well,” Takuma echoes, grinning. He stands and offers you a hand. “Breakfast?”

Downstairs, the house is alive with idle chatter and the clinking of silverware. Kirara is seated atop the counter, legs swinging as she eats a plate of eggs, and Hakari stands beside her leaning against the cabinets. Megumi scrolls absently through his phone at the table, the dogs looking up at him expectantly from either side, and Yuji is digging through a bunch of take-out boxes. When he sees you, his whole face lights up.

“Morning!” he practically sings. “Here, eat food.”

“Where’d this come from?” Takuma asks.

“My friend dropped off breakfast,” Yuji chirps, pushing a Tupperware container of pancakes toward you. If it weren’t for the brace wrapped around his wrist, you’d have no idea anything happened. He’s his usual golden retriever self.

You smile, forking one of the pancakes onto a plate. “That’s sweet.”

Your phone buzzes, and it’s Tsumiki sending you the link to the news brief. You frown at the headline, not out of any disrespect for the writer who stepped up to cover it, but more at the fact that it’s unfortunately true.

JU senior issued DUI after crash on 34th and Olson Blvd Friday night

“What’s up?” Takuma asks, immediately noting your expression. You slide the phone across the counter, watching its screen catch the light from the kitchen window. Kirara leans over it as well and starts reading off Junpei’s story halfway through.

“Zenin, who according to a campus police report was driving under the influence of alcohol, was on the phone with an ex-girlfriend when he swerved into the opposite lane.” Her dark brows knit together in some combination of anger and disbelief. “Jesus.”

“That’s fucked,” you murmur.

Someone’s phone rings, and Megumi glances at his screen and blinks, seems to hesitate. Then he gets up and disappears down the hall. You glance at Takuma, but he just shrugs. It’s probably Gojo.

The rest of you eat and eventually make your way to the living room, scattering yourselves across the couch and carpet and chairs.

“That single last night,” Takuma says, letting Kuro jump up beside him on the couch. “Concept. Make it the title track of an EP.”

You blink for a second, startled. “Wait, for real?”

“Yes!” Takuma says, sitting up straighter. “Think about it. Cover art is one of those name tag stickers, you all sign it, wrinkle it up and crease it and take a grainy film photo. And you put the song on it with Next Fix and a couple of your older singles you and blow up.”

“Or you print one off that says hello, our name is,” Kirara pipes up, seeming excited by the idea. “Ooh, you can have an intro track like that.”

“All caps. Just to match the energy,” you say, picturing the EP cover in your mind. “HELLO MY NAME IS. No punctuation either.”

“I like it,” Kirara nods. Takuma’s got that excited shine to his eyes, and you realize he’s very in his element in this conceptual space—he really will be a good producer. He has the mind for it.

Megumi slips back into the room looking a little haphazard, disgruntled, looking anywhere but into anyone else’s eyes, and Yuji cocks his head in question. Not Gojo, then. “Who was that?”

“No one,” Megumi lies, waving him off and turning back toward the kitchen to avoid everyone’s questioning gaze. Hm.You know better than to ask, and it seems that’s the consensus, because nobody pushes it—Megumi will open up in his own time. You hope he figures it out soon.

For your part, it’s a lazy Saturday, hanging out with Takuma, Yuji, Megumi, Kirara, and Hakari, gaming and talking and generally just existing in each other’s presence. After the chaos of last night, it seems to be exactly what all of you needed.

It’s not until late afternoon that Kirara broaches the topic of the band.

She gestures at Yuji, a flapping motion that misses the mark a little because Kirara is sprawled upside-down in the beanbag in the corner. “Itadori, can you, like… drum with that?”

He shrugs, looking down at his injured wrist. “Yeah, probably!” You frown. So much of drumming is in the wrist, and you kind of figured Kirara’s question was rhetorical. You realize abruptly that Shibuya Incident is still going up against Black Flash in the finals on Friday, and if they don’t have Yuji, they’re fucked.

“Psh, don’t look like that, it’s fine,” Yuji insists, grabbing two Wii remotes and wielding them like drumsticks. He goes to bang them around, mimicking a rock beat, and you watch as his face twists into a grimace and he drops one of them. “Okay, so, update: never mind!” He grins sheepishly.

Kirara is the first one to look at you, and by the time you’ve processed what exactly it is she’s trying to say, everyone else has their eyes locked on you—including Yuji.

Oh, shit.

“Whaddaya say, girl drummer?” Kirara asks, pointing a finger gun at you.

“Oh, guys, I don’t… I don’t know, it’s your band. Yuji—”

But Yuji is the one who seems the most excited about it. He’s abandoned both Wii remotes on the floor and is now looking up at you with bright eyes and his eternal grin. “No, Skipper, please? It would be so fun! I can still do aux and stuff. But we could play together! It would be so awesome!”

“Is that even allowed?” you ask, glancing at Takuma, who’s trying and failing to hide a boyishly excited smile. “I mean, I already got eliminated.”

“Hang on,” Hakari says, pulling out his phone. It takes you a minute to realize who he’s asking. “Yeah, no, Panda says it’s whatever. Better that than not have a battle at all.”

Takuma nudges you with a knee, looking at you with steady eyes. It’s your choice, he seems to say.

“I think,” you say slowly, “I should talk to my band first. But… I’m not opposed.”

Yuji whoops so loudly you flinch a little and Takuma grins, putting his arm around you and squeezing your shoulder.

“I probably should head out,” you say, a little reluctantly. “Kinda left the roommates high and dry last night.”

Kirara salutes you, her face red from the blood rush of still being upside down, and Yuji chirps out a happy see ya!

“I’ll walk you out,” Takuma says, standing when you do. You say bye to the band and the dogs and he follows you to the front door, going as far as to step just outside with you. The door stays open just a crack as you linger, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back. He pulls you in and kisses you right there on the front step, and you smile against his lips.

“Are we, like…?” Takuma murmurs when he pulls away, cheeks flushed from the question or the cold, you can’t tell.

“Are we what?” you tease, shoving lightly at his chest.

“You know.”

“Well, if you don’t say it I’m gonna beat you to asking—”

This seems to zap whatever hesitation Takuma had right out of him, and he cuts in, “Willyoubemygirlfriend?”

“Sorry, what was that?” You know you’ve got a shit-eating grin on your face, but you can’t stop it. “Couldn’t really hear you—”

“Oh my god. Will,” he says slowly, drawing out the word, “You. Be. My. Girlfriend?”

You can see your laugh fanning out before you in a puff of warm air, and you tip your head forward into his chest, grinning. “Yes, Takuma, I would love to be your girlfriend.” You pull back and look up at him, lacing your fingers together. “I was kind of trying to get you alone all week so we could figure out what the fuck was going on. But it worked out, huh?”

“Yeah,” he grins. “It worked out.” He reaches up and ruffles your hair, laughing when you go to swat his hand away. “I was trying to get you alone, too,” he admits. “I like spending time with you, Skip. I’m pretty sure you’re the coolest person I’ve met, like, ever.”

“Ever,” you echo. “Those are some pretty lofty expectations to live up to.”

He shrugs. “You meet them all.”

Despite yourself, heat creeps up to your cheeks again.

“That was less scary than I thought it was gonna be,” Takuma confesses. Your phone rings in your pocket, and you glance at it and see Maki’s name sliding across the screen.

“Think that’s my cue.” You plant one last kiss on Takuma’s lips and turn around, throwing a “bye, boyfriend” over your shoulder. You glance back and catch him mid fist-pump, and he sheepishly shoves his hands into his pockets when he realizes you saw.

You’re still wearing his clothes, you realize as you answer your phone. Guess it doesn’t really matter, since they’re your boyfriend’s.

“Hey,” Maki says in your ear. “You comin’ home anytime soon? No rush, but we’re making lunch so we figured we’d ask.” In the background, you can hear Toge singing what you think is a dramatic rendition of Kristoff’s song from Frozen II, but you aren’t entirely certain because none of the words are right.

“Yeah, I’m literally walking through the door in thirty seconds,” you say, and Nobara’s face appears in the kitchen window. She waves excitedly and you raise a hand in return.

“Oh, sick.” The line goes dead as you open the front door. “Hey!” Maki shouts when she hears it click, and you slam it closed against the rush of cool air trying to sneak inside with you.

“Hi!” you call back.

Yuta pokes his head around the corner and grins at you. “Welcome home, our favorite breaking news reporter.”

“I didn’t actually report on anything,” you admit, kicking your shoes off and padding into the kitchen. Toge is somehow balancing cross-legged on one of the high stools, and Maki is making tacos. “Conflict of interest once I realized who it was.”

“Yeah, I saw the article,” Nobara chimes in, glancing up from her phone. “Yikes. Frickin’ Naoya Zenin. What an asshat.”

You snort. What an understatement.

“Hope he rots in jail,” Maki says in a sing-song voice, not even looking up.

“I love family,” Toge says.

You fill your friends in on the crash and the aftermath and Yuji’s wrist, leaving out some of the details about Takuma, because that feels a little invasive. And then Yuta asks the big question: “What about the band?”

“About that,” you say, taking a deep breath. You’re not exactly sure why this makes you so nervous. Maybe it’s just that these are your people, your band, and you all worked so hard and then went down together. It doesn’t seem fair that you get to go back on stage and try again and the rest of them don’t. “So. They asked me to fill in—“

“Yes!” Nobara shouts, pumping a fist in the air. “Oh, that’s so awesome!”

“Well, I didn’t say yes yet—”

“What? Why?” Toge asks incredulously. You laugh, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders. Of course they’re okay with it. These are your best friends. They’ll always have your back.

“I wanted to check with you guys,” you say, feeling silly about it now. “Just—I don’t know, to make sure. Since it’s not our band, and I didn’t want you guys to feel like I was, I don’t know, like…”

“Musically cheating?” Maki chuckles. “Skipper, this is great. You should say yes.”

Yuta solemnly puts a hand over his heart. “Avenge us.”

“Thanks, guys.” You grin as you hop up on the counter next to Nobara, pressing your shoulder to hers. “I love y’all.”

“Sap,” Maki says, which means love you too.

—

Using a drum set that isn’t yours is always a weird experience. You feel like everything is just ever so slightly off, and Yuji’s kit is an absolute patchwork of different brands of heads and shells and cymbals. You have to lower the stool because he’s taller than you. But it’s just for rehearsal, at least—you can use your own kit at The Fix.

It’s your first time in the shabby basement of Takuma’s house, and it looks distinctly different than your own. They’ve pinned old rugs to the walls as a type of sound deadener, not dissimilar to your own setup, but their lighting is a collection of Facebook marketplace floor lamps and a little disco ball that’s apparently Yuji’s. Your basement has string lights and a bunch of stools and beanbags, and this one has extra blankets all over the floor where Yuji and Kirara have made themselves at home.

Learning Shibuya Incident’s songs isn’t difficult—you’ve heard enough of their music to anticipate what’s coming, and Yuji’s there to give you pointers. Their three-song set for the final performance isn’t actually done, because they don’t feel like they have a good enough finisher, and after you’ve run the first two songs several times you mess around with potential chorus lines.

“What about that?” Kirara says after plucking out a new melody. “It’s hype enough, I think. Or it will be, once we add the rest of you.”

“I like that.” You tap out the rhythm on the snare rim, humming. “You have lyrics?” You look at Takuma, who’s staring at the ceiling like it might have all the answers if he just squints hard enough.

“Somethin’ about, like… losing your head a little bit because you caught feels,” he says. “Like, you’re down so bad you can’t function, to be dramatic about it. That triplet at the beginning of the chorus, Kirara—”

She plucks it out again, down-up-down. “On my own,” Takuma echoes, down-up-down. “Every little move I can’t pin down…”

The words tumble past your lips before you can stop them, because they’ve been circling your head for a week now. “Friends with all the dead in my ghost town.”

He spins around to look at you, a grin spreading across his face. “Yes! It’s like I’m going…”

“Going,” Kirara echoes, and they go back and forth—going, going, “out of my mind!”

“Whoo!” Yuji cheers, pumping a fist in the air. “Holy shit. That was crazy.” Takuma grabs the nearest beat-to-hell spiral notebook and starts scribbling.

Megumi starts laying out a bassline, subtly driving the beat forward a little, and you clamp the hat down on two and four to keep time. Kirara comes in with something that must be the verse, and Takuma reads off, “You left in the morning after eight, I got into work two hours late, I can’t see the sun without your face.” Bass, bass, bass. Megumi nods along and Yuji is practically dancing from his spot on the floor.

“One day and I run fresh out of light…”

Hm. You add, “Twelve hours without your hand in mine.”

“I’m dizzy and overworked and tired,” Kirara sings lowly. All three of you sing the chorus again, and you feel just like you’re at home in your own basement, writing a song in real time with Nobara and Maki and the boys.

“Oh, that slaps,” Takuma practically shouts. “Jesus. We’re gonna win.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Megumi warns, a wry quirk to his lips.

Kirara glances at her phone. “Food’s here. Break time, freaks.” She bounds up the stairs and Megumi follows to help her grab the bags—you DoorDashed Taco Bell, since Yuji never got his beloved crunch wrap on Friday.

You leave your sticks on the snare and move around the drum set, flopping down on the ground beside Takuma. “You’re good at that,” you tell him honestly, pulling the notebook away to read what he’s writing down. I met you across the darkened stage, you shook up my life, you got me made, you’re drivin’ me crazy night and day.

You can’t help thinking of the night you met him, locking eyes while he sang from the edge of the low stage at The Fix, lit up by purple-red stage lights and putting you in a trance. You scribble a few more lines after his and hand the pen back.

“You’re a poet,” he tells you, and you laugh.

“I’m a journalist.”

“Woman of many talents,” he says, echoing Maki’s words from that first night you met.

“Itadori!” Kirara shouts down the stairs.

“Coming!” Yuji leaps up and disappears up the rickety basement staircase, leaving you and Takuma alone.

“Hey,” he says, tapping the pen on the page. You glance up at him, nodding for him to keep going. “Can I take you out? Like, on an actual date?”

Something light and quick kicks around in your chest, a hummingbird loose in your ribcage. “I would not be opposed,” you say, as if the idea doesn’t make you want to kick your feet like a little kid. “When are you thinking?”

“Mm, you’re in night class prison tomorrow,” he says, tapping the pen against his lip now. “Tuesday?”

It shouldn’t make you so irrationally happy that he remembers your schedule, but logic seems to go out the window where Takuma Ino is concerned. “Tuesday’s good. Where do you wanna go?”

He shakes his head adamantly, tapping you on the nose with his pen. “Leave it to me.”

—

The only things Takuma’s told you about your date tonight are dress warm and bring your board. He meets you outside your place at four, his bag definitely bulkier than usual, his own skateboard under one foot.

You’re wearing a denim jacket over a hoodie and your favorite cargo pants with your boots, and you tucked a beanie and gloves into your bag just in case, but it’s surprisingly balmy out for late October. The wind is the worst of it.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Takuma says when you coast down the driveway and come to a stop beside him. The greeting makes you blush as much as his smile does, and he chuckles as he pushes off. “This way.”

“Where are we going?”

“Crazy,” he says. You roll your eyes. Sounds like the kind of dad joke Yuta would make.

“Well, then.” The two of you make your way down the street and around the bend, and you realize he’s taking you to the skate park. But at the entrance he keeps going, around the pit and a few of the ramps and to the largest one, back in the corner—not the one Sukuna deals under, but the one opposite. And you stop in your tracks, your longboard making a protesting schkk under your feet, when you see it.

Battery-powered string lights loop around the posts and down the underside of the ramp, and blankets and pillows are spread out across the ground. The area is sheltered from the worst of the wind, and you know your jaw is hanging open a little as you watch Takuma unload his bag—JBL speaker, two thermoses, and a bunch of food.

“Takuma,” you say, not knowing what other words suffice. “I—oh my god.” You did not peg him as being this romantic.

Then you think about his song lyrics and think maybe you should have.

He grins at you from where he’s sat down on the blankets, holding out one of the thermoses. You leave your board by one of the poles and sit down beside him, taking it and letting the warmth seep into your hands. “What is it?”

“Hot chocolate.”

“Mm.” You scoot closer to him, staring up at the layers and layers of graffiti and marker art covering the underside of the ramp. “This is maybe the sweetest thing ever.”

“I’m glad,” he says. “I had no idea what I was doing.”

“I wouldn’t know.” You take a sip of the hot chocolate—still warm. “It’s romantic. Big fan.”

“Really?” He points to where somebody drew a dick on the far side of the ramp.

“Okay, well, you didn’t have to point it out,” you smirk. “You ever done graffiti?” Looking at his mischievous smile and the beanie tugged over his head, the skateboard abandoned a few feet away, he does look like the type.

“Tagging?” He shrugs. “No. I would, though. Maybe we should.”

You hum, staring up at the arcing bubble letters and jagged black lines all over the ramp. You think you’d be horrible at graffiti, but you’ve always appreciated it, the way it sends a message and doesn’t ask for anything in return.

“This is like… alternative aesthetic stargazing,” you muse, lifting a finger and tracing the sharp lines of one of the illegible words in the air. You could stare at all this art for hours and never find all the intricacies of it.

Takuma digs around in his bag and produces a Sharpie with an “aha!”

“You’re gonna graffiti with a Sharpie?”

He throws it at you and you catch it in one hand, instinctively twirling it like a drumstick. “We’re gonna graffiti with a Sharpie,” he corrects.

And so you do.

The nearest part of the wall is covered in bright pink paint outlined in black, and it takes you a moment of squinting and tilting your head to realize it says LEAVEYOURMARK. Seems as clear of an instruction as any. So you do—scooting forward, you start to draw flowers into the thick bands of pink lettering, and soon they’re shifting to music notes, percussion notation, aimless squiggles. Takuma queues up a laid-back playlist with a few artists you recognize and many more you don’t, and you pass the pen back and forth, adding tiny notes to messages around the ramp, doodling in the empty space.

You’ve been on dates before, but this feels wholly different. With Takuma, you’re not stressing over conversation starters, worrying about commitment, wondering if you picked the right outfit, trying to gauge your shared interests with carefully planned questions. It’s just easy, existing with him like this.

After a while, you’re on your back in the mess of pillows and blankets, staring directly up at the massive painting of a skateboard with a face. Takuma is drawing something on the wall behind you.

Squinting, the green streaks under the skateboard look like that loss meme Toge sends you at least twice a week. You take a photo with the intention of showing it to him later, though maybe you shouldn’t—he gets way too proud of himself for versing you in what he calls Reddit culture.

You crane your neck to see what Takuma’s drawing and find the thick, dark strokes of a city skyline, towers and domes and boxy apartment buildings.

“Artsy,” you tell him, smiling when he appears in your line of vision upside-down. “You sure about this computer science thing? You’re too creative.”

“That’s what my mom said,” he chuckles, capping the Sharpie and sitting down beside you. As you sit up, he leans back on his hands and glances over at you. “I told her about you. She’d love you. I mean, I’m pretty sure she already does.” He hesitates. “Is that weird? Too soon?”

“No,” you grin. “I—that’s really sweet, actually. I would love to meet your mom.” Your gaze softens at the relieved smile that crosses his face. “Gotta thank her for raising a guy like you, anyway.”

You realize you want Takuma to meet your family too—you want to show him all the corners of your too-small town, show him the place you grew up. It made you who you are—it led you here, to him, after all.

“So,” you say, tilting your head. “When you say you wanna be a producer. Where do you mean? Like, LA?”

He shrugs. “Probably. But I’m sure it’s more competitive there than anywhere else. I feel like the major hubs are there and New York, but I wouldn’t mind somewhere quieter, either.” He loops an arm around you, and your head finds its way to his shoulder. “What about you, world-class journalist?”

You grin, thinking of all the places you haven’t been, all the places you want to go. “Anywhere and everywhere. I just wanna see it all. I wanna travel.”

“You should!” He sounds genuinely excited about the concept, and you lift your head, taking in the expression on his face—he looks the way he did when he was talking about making an EP, like the world is full of possibilities and he wants to see them all play out. “You’d be so good at it. Being a travel writer or international correspondent or whatever.” He clears his throat. “I read some of your stuff, y’know.”

“What?” Suddenly you’re racking your brain for every piece you’ve published in the JU Journal, overly critical of your own work in hindsight. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s good. Really good, Skip, seriously.” He reaches out and tugs a wayward strand of hair behind your ear, and you find yourself leaning into the contact.

You aren’t sure what to say, so you settle on a soft, “Thank you.” Somehow, the idea of Takuma going out of his way to read your work feels personal on the same level that writing a song together does. Taking in your words, your ideas, internalizing them. What is intimacy if not that intellectual exchange?

“I think you’re going to be a really good producer.” It’s his turn to blush. “I mean it. Not everyone has the perspective for it, or the ear. But you do.”

“Ah, well, I—”

“Am not good at taking compliments?” you cut him off, raising a brow. “Mm, we’ll fix that.” He laughs, and you’re leaning in to kiss him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Maybe it is the most natural thing in the world.

It’s late October, and you are not the least bit cold.

—

Your hands need to stop sweating before you lose a drumstick or something.

Shibuya Incident has about twenty minutes before you’re all due on stage for the finals, and The Fix is alive with students and lights and drinks and music and chatter. You’re out on the floor tonight, off to the side for easy access to the stage once Black Flash clears out.

“We’re kicking off with the reigning champions of the Battle of the Bands,” Panda booms, throwing an arm out as the band takes the stage. “You know ‘em, you love ‘em, they’re every genre and no genre, covers and originals, brass and wind. Give it up for Black Flash!”

You whoop just as loud as anyone else here, grinning at Nobara’s animated cheering from closer to the center of the floor. Miwa walks right up to the mic and takes it off the stand, the neck of her white electric in her other hand. “Hey, folks!” She brushes her bright blue hair out of her face and shouts, “Y’all ready to hear some good music?”

She has the sort of infectious enthusiasm that could work on pretty much anyone, and before you know it you and Kirara are spinning each other around to the beat of a synth-heavy pop song that sounds like it came straight out of the 80s. The instrumentals are simple but tight, and Miwa jumps around, engaging the crowd, belting like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

“They’re good,” you catch Megumi saying lowly, probably to Yuji, but Takuma’s the one who answers.

“If I tell you the power of friendship will lead us to victory—”

“No.”

“Well, okay, you’re no fun.”

Kirara turns around and plants a hand on her hip, looking at Megumi. “Fushiguro, we’re fine. We’re going out with a badass new single and not one but two percussionists. We’ve never sounded this good.”

“Just being the token pessimist,” he sighs, cracking a reluctant half-smile. “I know we’re good.”

Yuji elbows him playfully. “Mr. Realist.”

Black Flash segues into a second track, an ABBA cover that has you dancing without thinking, and Takuma catches your eye and grins, moving along with you. And all too soon it’s over, a third song come and gone, and Panda’s back up on stage and the five of you are hopping up over the side to make your way to your places. Hakari and another tech have already swapped out the kits, and you settle yourself in the comfort of your own throne, your own pedals, flipping on the snare and pounding the kick a few times.

Yuji’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, grinning at you. “You got this,” he mouths, shaking his tambourine at you.

You truly have no idea where he got a tambourine.

“What happened in Shibuya? Who the hell knows?” Panda shouts, riling up the crowd. “Give it up for Shibuya Incident!”

That’s your cue. You look at Kirara, who nods with a conspiratorial smile, and then Megumi, who plucks out a few notes in answer. Yuji’s already giving you a grin and a thumbs-up. And Takuma… he’s already stepped into his on-stage confidence, all relaxed, easygoing performer, and the look he gives you has energy coursing through your fingertips like an electric shock.

You hold your sticks above your head, clicking them loud on the lower end of the shaft, and shout, “One, two, three, four!”

You are alive.

The first track is another pulled from their EP, and you’ve listened to it probably an embarrassing number of times—you know Yuji’s part down to the sixteenth note, the roll, the rest, but you don’t hesitate to put your own spin on it, and he’s alight with the same energy beside you, messing around with a tambourine and a few other aux instruments near a mic of his own, since he’s also doing backup vocals tonight.

Your hands are moving fast, your feet pumping the pedals of their own accord, an instinct, and it’s over before you know it, a sheen of sweat already forming under the stage lights. You grin, catching your breath, wiping your hands on your jeans as Takuma introduces the band.

From your place near the back of the stage, you get more of the low feedback than anything else, but you definitely hear when he says Shibuya Incident and the crowd responds raucously in kind.

“That’s Kirara Hoshi on guitar and vocals,” he says, pointing to her as she does her little riff.

“Yeah, Kira!” You have no idea where Hakari’s voice is coming from, but it’s unmistakable.

“We got Fushiguro back there on the bass,” Takuma continues, and Megumi gives the crowd an unbothered nod, showing off his own instrument for a moment. “Itadori’s back here on aux and vocals.” He pauses to let the crowd shout for Yuji and then adds, “And filling in for him on kit, we’ve got the legendary drummer from Cursed Technique. Everyone give it up for Skipper!”

You do a quick roll, laughing as your own band goes crazy—you can’t see them in the glare of the lights, but you (and everyone else) can definitely hear them.

“I’m Ino, we’re Shibuya Incident, and this next one’s gonna slow things down a little.”

This one starts with Megumi, a laid-back track with a similar vibe to the first song you ever heard Shibuya Incident perform, but a little smoother. It’s over before you know it, and then you and Kirara are launching into the new single. Even Yuji looks like he’s having the time of life on backup vocals.

“On my own,” he and Kirara harmonize, Takuma taking the lead, and you nail the next two lines with punchy cymbal-tom hits, “all the shadows look like a death threat, everybody’s waitin’ to get hit, it’s like I’m going (going) going (going) out of my mind!”

All your worries melt away as the beat drives your movements. You’re not thinking about dropping a drumstick, missing a measure, losing the competition. You’re doing what you love with people you love, and that’s all you’ve ever wanted to do.

“Think I’m seein’ double in one eye, startin’ to think this air is spiked, no one told me that’s what love is like.” Takuma lets the guitar hang and grips the mic in one hand and the stand in the other, leaning with it as he engages the crowd, and you definitely hear Nobara screaming. “You got me going (going) going (going) out of my mind, yeah, yeah.”

It’s over so fast you can barely breathe, and you’re laughing before you know what’s happening, Yuji throwing his arm around you and shouting, “You killed it!”

Takuma turns around and locks eyes with you, and you see that same adrenaline high in his gaze that you know is in yours, and when the band stumbles off stage in Panda’s wake, he grabs your hand and pulls you into a hug. “That was crazy!” he practically shouts, which is probably good, because your ears are ringing so much you probably wouldn’t have heard him otherwise.

“Guys,” Megumi says, deadpan as always, but you can see the effects of the performance even on him, his usually stoic expression unable to mask his own excitement. “I think… we might have a shot.”

“Holy shit,” Kirara says. “Skip, write the story. Resident pessimist breaks vow of negativity—”

“Oh, shut up.” Megumi elbows her as she dissolves into laughter. In the wings, you can hear the indistinct sounds of Panda’s instructions as he starts voting, and music kicks up over the speakers. Ten minutes. Ten minutes.

It’s the longest and shortest wait of your life, and then you’re back on stage with Black Flash and Panda, and it’s fucking time.

You wonder if everyone else can hear your blood roaring, too.

“Once again, an insanely tight vote,” Panda says, a hush falling over the crowd as they wait for the verdict. “Phenomenal performances from both of our final bands, but someone’s gotta win. Give it up for the champions of this year’s Battle of the Bands…”

You imagine Maki hissing under her breath for Panda to hurry it up, Nobara’s hands clasped together as she anxiously bounces on the balls of her feet, Yuta biting his lip and trying to get Toge to shut up.

Takuma’s hand is on your shoulder, Yuji on your other side, Megumi and Kirara behind you. You glance at Miwa, and she gives you a knowing look that you can’t interpret.

You almost don’t hear it.

“SHIBUYA INCIDENT!”

You don’t know which screams belong to who—maybe one of them’s yours—but you’re swept into a massive pile of musicians drunk off victory, and you’re laughing, and Miwa’s jumping up and down and saying how that was insane, guys, you were amazing, and even Mai nods at you in congratulations, and Yuji is abruptly on Todo’s shoulders, and as the stage lights turn down a bit you finally catch sight of your own band, losing their minds on the floor.

“That’s our girl!” Maki hollers, and Yuta whoops as Toge pumps a fist in the air. You realize you can’t see Nobara, and two seconds later your questions are answered when she somehow materializes on the stage, launching herself at you with a massive grin on her face.

“You did it!” she shouts. “Holy shit, Skipper!”

Everything around you is chaos and laughter and noise, but something in the center of your being is incredibly still, and you think maybe it’s contentment. In this moment, you would ask for nothing else. It is perfect.

Nobara detaches herself from you after more profuse congratulations, turning to Miwa, and the bands make their way gradually off stage. Takuma’s hand is in yours—you don’t know when that happened—and he pulls you past the band, past the wings, all the way into the drum storage room backstage.

“That was fucking amazing,” he says. “You’re fucking amazing.” His beanie is off, tucked into his pocket, his hair as wild as his eyes as wild as your heart.

You close the door.

It’s a pulse. That’s the only way you can describe it, the rush of living energy that comes with kissing Takuma Ino behind the stage of a shitty campus bar, the heat shooting through your veins in time with the throb of the bass from distant speakers. Breath on your teeth and hands in your hair, the warmth in your gut from skin-on-skin proximity, ears ringing with the sound of your name on his lips and love-blind eyes, you’re alive and addicted to a feeling you know you’ll chase forever.

—

TWO MONTHS LATER. DECEMBER 19.

The house is alive with laughter and chatter and Michael Bublé’s Christmas album spinning from the record player. The semester is over, and tomorrow you’ll scatter for winter break, home for the holidays. Nobara insisted on throwing a party before all the inevitable road trips and flights, and the main floor is strung with multicolored lights and tinsel—Yuta’s plant, Rika, even has a tiny Santa hat on.

In addition to the actual residents of the house, Takuma and the band are here, as well as Hakari, Panda, Tsumiki, Miwa, and a handful of other friends. Megumi’s even brought the dogs, who have both taken a liking to the loveseat by the window and claimed it as their own. You’ve informed Megumi that they’re going to stay here with you forever (he said no, but you don’t take orders from him).

“Okay, I’m dropping you off at ten, right?” Yuta quadruple-checks. You’re huddled in the kitchen with him and Maki—Toge was here a minute ago, but he heard someone in the living room mention Just Dance and ran off to assert his dominance or whatever.

“Oh my god, yes,” Maki answers for you. “Yuta. You wrote it down. It’s in your calendar. You live in the same house as Skip, you’re not gonna forget.” She bumps her shoulder with his and he sighs in admission.

“I know.” He smiles at you. “Just gotta make sure she gets home for the holidays. Can’t have you turning into a sad Christmas cliché on us, Skip.”

You salute him with half a gingerbread cookie. “Appreciate it.” He’s taking you to the airport tomorrow for your flight home and refuses to take your gas money, so you’re already planning on beating him to paying for the first grocery run when you get back.

“Things with Mai are good?” you ask, glancing at Maki. She shrugs noncommittally but doesn’t correct you, which is a good sign. She and her sister met up the week after the Battle of the Bands for coffee, which you genuinely thought was a joke when she told you about it. They’re both going home for Christmas and have apparently decided to try and like each other a little more openly. And she actually showed up tonight, which you have to admit you weren’t entirely expecting.

“Yuta!” Toge hollers from the other room. “You have to come do Rasputin with me!”

Yuta groans, looking pleadingly at Maki like she can get him out of this, but she just grins. “You heard him.”

“You hate me.”

“Yeah,” Maki says fondly. Yuta, defeated, goes to join Toge in the dance of death. Maki whispers to you that she’s going to record it for blackmail and slips out after him.

Tsumiki appears beside you, drink in hand, and leans against the wall. She tilts her phone screen toward you and you see it’s the Journal website analytics.

The top story right now is yours. You grin. “Oh, wow. I didn’t realize.”

“I expected it,” she admits, tucking her phone back in her pocket and gazing out across the room. “Look, I’ve been meaning to tell you. We won’t start the application process until spring sem, but, if you want it,” she glances at you, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, “I really think you should apply for editor-in-chief, Skip.”

Your mouth opens and closes without anything of use coming out, and Tsumiki laughs. “You don’t have to, but—”

“No!” you blurt, grinning. “I—I want to. I would love to. I was planning on it. I just didn’t know you… wanted me to.” Kusakabe’s just the advisor—when it comes to actually hiring the next editor, Tsumiki has the final say. Her endorsement is as good as a job offer. “I… thank you, Tsumiki.” You look down, suddenly overwhelmed by the words. “Big shoes to fill.”

“Aw, none of that,” she says, stealing a cookie from the tray on the counter next to you. “I literally can’t think of anyone better.” With a wink, she disappears through the doorway, where Kirara and Nobara are talking animatedly. Nobara gestures to you when she catches your eye.

“Dude, our listens are shooting up!” she says, shoving her phone into your hands. Your EP dropped mid-November, six tracks recorded in the studio with Takuma and Hakari, and you’ve performed better than you ever expected. The analytics show a sharp uptick that’s probably in large part due to Panda playing your stuff on the radio station.

You whistle, leaning on Nobara’s shoulder. “Awesome.”

Kirara leans against the wall, considering. “You guys thought about what you’re gonna do next year?”

Truthfully, you’ve really tried not to. The idea of Maki and Yuta graduating is so bittersweet. But graduation means Shibuya Incident will have a hole in their band, too. Kirara will be gone.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Nobara muses. “We could join forces. If we lose Maki and Yuta and Kirara, the only thing we’re doubled up on is drums and lead.”

It’s not a bad idea. And if Yuji is track captain next year and you get that editor job, neither of you will have as much time for the band—switching off could actually be very helpful. You hum, considering. You’ll have to talk to the others.

“Oi,” Kirara says, reaching out to poke you with a socked foot. “Your boyfriend’s in lost puppy mode over there.” You glance into the living room to see Takuma scanning the room next to Megumi and the dogs, probably looking for you.

“Dumbass,” you say fondly, and nod goodbye to Nobara and Kirara before making your way over to him. The boys are halfway through Rasputin and Yuta is, much to Toge’s chagrin, kicking ass. Toge looks like he’s just run a half marathon.

Takuma lights up when he sees you, a mischievous smile appearing on his face as he intercepts you by the hall entrance.

“Oh, wow, what is that?” he asks cheekily, and tilts your chin up to see a piece of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. That was definitely Nobara’s doing. “Crazy that we just happened to—”

You cut him off, dragging him in by the shirt and kissing him, and makes a surprised sound that has you smiling against his lips.

“Crazy,” you repeat after you pull back, relishing the flush on his cheeks. Even after dating him for two months (as of today), every reaction you get out of Takuma makes your heart rate bump up a few beats. “Oh!” he says, suddenly remembering something. “Wait, c’mere, I have something for you.”

“Takuma!” You swat at him. “I told you not to—”

“Boo hoo,” he says, sticking his tongue out and dragging you toward your room, where he dumped his stuff earlier. You quietly close the door behind you as Takuma digs around his bag, standing up with his hands behind his back. “It’s Christmas and it’s been two months. You have no defense. Close your eyes.”

You do, giggling a little as he grabs your hand and presses something into it—something soft. “Okay,” he says, and you open your eyes to see a little stuffed penguin perched in the palm of your hand. It’s fucking adorable.

“Oh my god!” you cry. “Oh, he’s so cute! Takuma.” You cradle the penguin to your chest with both hands, grinning.

“It’s you!” he says, laughing. “Not official Madagascar merch, but I thought it was pretty cute. Your own lil’ Skipper.”

“I love it,” you say, making the penguin do a little dance in the air. You grab its tiny wing and poke Takuma on the nose with it. “Thank you.”

“Merry early Christmas.” His nose scrunches up a little in thought. “Early Merry Christmas? What’s the right way to say that?”

“Happy early nondenominational holiday of your choice,” you say teasingly, because the public university won’t actually say Christmas despite the decorations all around campus.

It’s a running joke among the entirety of the student body that the massive tree in the arts lobby is not a Christmas tree but a secular modern art installation. There are variations of insane alternate tree names on the school meme accounts. The knockoff JU Barstool page even got in on it, and the student groups hosting the Hanukkah and Kwanzaa celebrations.

Takuma’s answering laugh is bright and it follows you as you cross the room to your desk, pulling a box out of the second drawer. “Your turn.”

“What?” He has the audacity to look confused. “Skip—”

You hold up the penguin. “Objection denied!” The box is light and square, and you watch excitedly as he opens it.

“Oh my god,” he says when he realizes what’s inside. “No way. These are the exact ones—how did you even—?”

You had to do some investigating to figure out the precise guitar strings he uses, but what's your journalism degree for if not this?

“Who knows?” You shrug playfully. “Maybe it’s the psychic powers, maybe it’s the housemate I begged to sneak into your room and find out.”

Kirara was more than willing. “Good thing you came to me and not Itadori,” she laughed. “That kid can’t be subtle to save his life.” Takuma’s strings have been on the brink for a while, and you’re honestly shocked none of them have given out yet.

“They’re perfect,” Takuma laughs, setting the box back on your desk. “I love them. I love you.”

He says it so easily it takes you a moment to realize what just happened. He freezes, mouth opening and closing like he doesn’t know what words he’s looking for.

“I—uh,” he says eloquently. “It’s—I mean. I didn’t mean to—I mean, I didn’t mean to say it like that but I did mean it, you don’t have to say it back, if it’s too soon or you—”

Instead of cutting him off verbally, you grab him by the shoulders and press your lips to his. His eyes are wide when you pull back, despite the way he relaxed into the kiss on instinct.

“Hey,” you laugh, one hand trailing up to the back of his neck. “I love you, too.”

The excited smile that spreads across his face is slow and hesitant, like he can’t believe you reciprocate. You pull him back in and feel his grin against your lips, his hands coming to rest at your waist, warm.

“Thank god,” he murmurs between breaths. “Because I keep almost accidentally saying it, and it was gonna happen sooner or later.”

“Least it didn’t happen over the phone,” you grin, your hand skating down his arm and coming to rest in his.

Sheepishly, he admits, “Almost did. Yesterday.” Your laugh is bright and so is his answering one, and you perch your little stuffed penguin atop the guitar strings and tug Takuma toward the door.

“Okay, lover boy. Back to the outside world.”

“Lover boy, huh?” he teases. “Kay, pretty girl.”

“Couple of cheesy ass romantics we are.”

“Mm.” He presses a kiss to your temple, the action so casual and unthinking you want to melt. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The second you step back into the living room, Yuta grabs you by the elbow and presses a Wii remote into your hand.

“Oh, no. Yuta—”

The song’s been chosen for you, and Toge has passed the remote to Maki, who looks like she’d rather die than give a rousing performance of TiK ToK by Ke$ha.

“Well, at least it’s you,” she says. Toge tries to discreetly pull his phone out, but Maki gives him a death glare that could send a grown man to his grave. He nearly drops it in his hurry to shove it back into his pocket.

You snort, patting Maki sympathetically on the shoulder. “Let’s kick ass.”

Three hours later, everyone has somewhat settled down, sprawled across furniture and countertops and the carpeted floor. Yuta’s grabbed an acoustic from the basement and it’s being passed around, goofy Christmas songs overlapping with the still-spinning record player.

You enrolled here with the intention of building a new life, finding a new purpose—new faces, new music, a new place to call home. And you feel like you’ve found it. This is the point of college. You’re surrounded by the best people you’ve ever known, and your heart is practically overflowing with how much you fucking love them all.

After all, your heart is not a finite thing. You’ve just got an endless supply of affection, and you’re not scared of it.

Love is the right word, you think, letting your head fall onto Takuma’s shoulders, legs tucked up beneath you on the couch.

“I love you,” you whisper, just to say it. When he whispers your name, your real name, in the shell of your ear, something in your chest sparks a little. He makes it sound like a song.

“I love you, too.”

directory | prev.

jjk taglist open: just send me a message!

@shutuppeter @mikikkoo @reactwithjan @theclassbookworm @lilactaro @bisforbuse @risararelywrites @idkidk32 @gojodickbig @stargazing-with-choso @anonymity-222 @honeyyhuggs

a/n: that’s a wrap on out of my mind! ahh! i loved this one a lot, and it has so much spinoff potential i’m going a little crazy with it—keep an eye out for the megumi spinoff dropping soon. if you want to be alerted when it drops, lmk and i’ll put you on the jjk taglist. also, greta wrote a sukuna spinoff here—go read!

@bitchkay i need you to know your reblog tags give me life and you were fucking RIGHT ON THE MONEY with these developments

i’m not sure if i’ll start writing other fandoms or not—if y’all would want to see attack on titan or blue lock do let me know!

[perksofbeingpoet]

☆ THE POETS AT THE AIRPORT ☆

CHARLIE: trying WAY too hard to be everyone's airport crush. has to be dragged out of the liquor section of the duty free shop ("but the vodka is so CHEAP"). plays a game of "trying to sneak as many metal objects past the security check as possible". when he gets a pat down he keeps wiggling his eyebrows and saying some variant of "wow no you're wayy too old for me" to the security guy (who's probably considering quitting his job). is secretly terrified of flying but tries not to let it show (grips neil's hand so hard it hurts when they take off)

TODD: literally a ball of pure anxiety in the beginning of it. SO scared he overpacked, he's constantly talking about what if his suitcase is too heavy and he has to empty it out and everyone in the queue will be watching him and GOD HE HATES AIRPORTS. calms down a bit after the security check (totally panics about what if he accidentally put a gun down his pants or something and doesn't remember), and then just chills in the perfume area of the duty free shop, trying all the scents. buys loads of snacks because you never know if the place you're going to has the good ones. tries not to think about the possibility of the plane crashing. likes watching the clouds.

NEIL: A literal kid. Is the one who ACTUALLY overpacked, and runs around with his suitcase (he'd totally sit down on it and ride it around if that was socially acceptable). spends like an hour in the shops and is suddenly convinced he needs to buy a lot of unnecessary stuff. BUT goes into airport dad mode as soon as he needs to, he has all the tickets and keeps reminding everyone of having their passports ready, he knows the gate number etc. takes the lead and gets them to the plane safely.

KNOX: has like an hour long "in case i die on the plane" video ready for chris, and they have a long phone call to say good bye (interrupted when charlie gets into a fight with a security guard - "c'mon dude, who's side are you on, the government?? like being a small little guy in power??" "Sir I'm going to repeat it one more time, I need you to take off that belt please."). if knox wasn't dating chris, he'd totally be looking at all the cute girls at the airport for like two seconds and trying to telepathically tell them they're cute (relatable, not gonna lie). Is so polite and charming to all the staff that it's on the verge of being funny, Pittsie teasing him about really being the perfect son in law. Honestly just a very chilled flyer, he has fun.

PITTS: has even more fun. has like an extra bag full of snacks that everyone makes fun of and then obviously wants some of later (pittsie gives them some because he's a bro, but they have to swear that he's the best and will get the front seat of every car they'll ride). TOTALLY has one of those inflatable neck cushions. the security guy comments on how tall he is mainly to make conversation, but pittsie is still proud of it (i think i mentioned my headcanons about pitts' relationships with his height? or did i never publish them?) and smiles for the next minute. reads the on-flight magazine. super excited at take off, he's like LET'S GOOOO while todd and charlie are on the verge of crying. freaks out about omg I forgot my passport (neil took it from him one second ago). fun facts about planes!!

MEEKS: the chillest. tries to calm todd down by telling him statistics and all that about the narrow chances of dying on a plane until charlie snaps and is like SHUT UP OH MY GOD ("'kay sir" 🫡😳). nerds out about planes with pittsie! has WAY too many tags on his bags in case they get lost. tells really bad airport puns that pittsie thinks are HILARIOUS. spends the wait by just sitting in a café and drinking way too much coffee. ONLY buys one teeny tiny little bag of m&ms and then eats like half of pittsies snacks. sits more comfortably than pitts because his legs are shorter and don't get cramped and DEFINITELY teases him about it like 'hmm i don't know what you mean, there's plenty of leg room!"

CAMERON: really excited for the flight, loves the whole experience. printed out everything twice just in case!! all his liquid items are in these little plastic bags that no one ever uses (or maybe y'all are just better than me). eats SO much beforehand to save money because the airport prices are ridiculous. runs to the gate like three times to check it hasn't been changed. has the craziest methods to keep his ears from popping.

[jjunberry]

txt! as chase atlantic songs

pairing! txt x reader

genre! angst, slight smut

warnings! toxic relationships

synopsis! songs by chase atlantic i think txt would be

wc! 600

soobin as slow down

“you’re buried in the pillow, yeah, you're so loud”

you were soobin’s dirty little secret. he met you after a show and once he had you, he was hooked. he was laid on the bed and his eyes trailed your form. “come here babe.” he said his voice deep. you crawled up the bed and sat on his lap. his hands gripped your hips, giving them a squeeze. “gonna let me fuck you?” you nodded. “you gotta keep quiet baby.” he said before flipping you onto your stomach. soobin was quick to push your panties the side. using your wetness he coated his dick and slipped in. you moaned out at the feeling. soobin grunted and pushed your face down into the pillow. “be quiet or i’ll cum and send you home needy.”

yeonjun as right here

“i’m right here, here. oh, baby take a look around, i’m the only one that hasn't walked out.”

yeonjun hated your friends. he only ever wanted your attention on him. he slowly drove them out. one by one they fell off cutting contact with you. “i just don’t understand why they go out without me.” you ranted doing your skin care. “come to bed baby, forget them.” he said. you ignored his words continuing your rant. “baby.” yeonjun snapped his voice stern. “i do not care about your fucking friends. now come to bed.” you nodded and abandoned your skin care. yeonjun pulled you against his chest. “i’m the only one here for you, forget them.” he kissed your head.

beomgyu as you too

“if you love it, then you cut the thing loose.”

it was a repeating toxic cycle. fighting, breaking up, getting back together. fucking roughly to bury the reason you faught again. you were tired but you just loved him. you’d forgive anything he did. “y/n we need to talk.” beomgyu said. here we go. another fight. “what now beomgyu?” he leaned against the door frame and watched you change into sleep clothes. “i’m done, i have my bags packed. i can’t keep doing this. it’s exhausting.” you sighed and looked at him. “very funny beomgyu just come to bed.” he ignored your words and walked over kissing you deeply. “goodbye baby.” he turned to leave. “if you leave don’t fucking bother coming back.” he just sighed and walked out.

taehyun as the walls

“honestly she needs a little loving. fuck it, now i’m getting off the subject, yeah, yeah.”

you were lonely. always by yourself. against the wall at parties, in the back of the room. he always spotted you though. there was something about you taehyun couldn’t shake. you needed something or someone. that someone being him. it didn’t take long for you to fall into bed with him. taehyun filled that void and satisfied that need and want within you. he had his hand wrapped around your throat as he thrusted into you roughly. he stilled cumming in you. when he cleaned himself up he left and rejoined the party. you never felt so full yet so alone.

hueningkai as heaven and back

“all in one night. she just went to heaven and back.”

you always wanted him. he just wanted something quick. kai took you out that night. all over the town. different clubs, different parties. you felt so high. kai took you by the hand and lead you do a dingy bathroom. his hand slipped into your pants. your eyes rolled back. before you knew it kai was taking you against the bathroom stall. you felt like you were in heaven. you could feel your orgasm approaching but it was cut short when kai finished and pulled out. he tucked himself away and left the stall. your heart sunk to your feet. it all came crashing down watching him leave you.

author’s note! i got a little carried away with this one…. these are some of my favorite chase atlantic songs soooooooooo it was only fitting i went a little crazy writing this.

tag list! @jjunieworld @304files

love, echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪

© jjunberry

[evansonlylove]

okay then, well i like your kai fict and i think that you prolly wanna make some more. how about kai x reader where the reader want to be a dom so bad —doing a cowgirl or whatsoever, but kai enjoy slash jokingly or mock the reader about no matter how hard she tried she can never be the dom, so kai show her that he will always in charge. but anyway no pressure at all, free to ignore this if you dont want to okay? <3

i’m so sorry this took so long, i haven’t been doing the best and i wanted this to be good! i hope you enjoy it and get to see this. And thank you so much for sending this request in, i seriously appreciate you sending it in. REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

don’t test me

Kai anderson x Female reader

summary: while out with your friends one night you hear about their sex lives, although what you heard shocked you. Kai had always been the “one in charge” and you liked it that way but something in you wanted to try and dominate him. (reader is a sub at first, tries to dom and kai puts her in her place) caring kai at the end

warnings: 18+, smut, degrading, slapping, aggressiveness, choking, p n v, no condom, spit kink, kai’s fixation on being your God. all that kai toxicity and smuttyness

bold letters are kai’s speach.

“Hi baby” you hear his deep beautiful voice come out of your phone as you put it up to your ear. Even while out with your friends you missed him, how could you not?

“Hi kai! can you hear me good?” slowly slipping away from the crowd in the bar you trip on your heels, you tried to act as a sober as possible so he wouldn’t know you drank a little too much.

“Yeah, yeah i can. did you see the time yet?” he says with a demanding voice, shit. it was past 10 and you hadn’t even noticed. You look back at your friends waving their hands at you to come back.

“oh, the time? i mean it’s still kinda early and i don’t go out often. Do you think i can stay a bit longer?” you put your finger up to your lips and bite your nail nervously, but it was true. You were a good girl, always obeying his rules and staying true to him and only him.

“hm. Okay fine but not to long, i’ll be waiting for you so no funny business” finally hearing him agree you smile, after all he was your ruler, him saying yes to you felt like a reward. Quickly you reply

“thank you thank you! i’ll be good i promise” As much of a tough guy as he was, you knew how to get into his heart. Your cuteness and even fake innocence always found your way into that man’s love.

“You better be. i’ll see you in a little okay princess?”

“mhm!” you reply instantly and hang up, practically running up to your friends who had a drink waiting for you

“I don’t get why you have to explain yourself to him y/n” one of your friends say as you sit down. Soon they all tag along in teasing you about your relationship “Like yea he’s hot but don’t you even just want to be the dominant one? not have to say where you are and do whatever you want?”

Their words take a while to sink in, you had honestly never thought about your relationship being opposite or different in any way. You loved being his little lamb and good girl, being owned and loved even if it was in his twisted way.

“I don’t know.. i like it the way we are. Plus i could never dominate a man like him.” you say as you sip your drink and start thinking about it, what it would be like to ruin him if you could. Ruin him the way he does you… maybe make him beg. Snapping out of it you finish your drink in one gulp

“I’d give it a try if i were you, i didn’t know i had half the kinks i do now till i tried it. but, Kai is definitely more possessive and all that crazy shit than all out boyfriends combined so it’s up to you girl.” she laughs as you shrug your shoulders and feel your phone vibrate. You read a message from who other than Kai ‘it’s been 30 mins y/n don’t push your limits’

“you know what? i’m gonna do it. it shouldn’t be so hard to dominate a man” you stand up and take a shot glass filled with tequila and down it all. “Wish me luck” you hug them goodbye and walk out the bar feeling like you were invincible. Obviously at the time you didn’t know it was the drinks talking.

‘calm down, i’ll be there in a few.’ you reply as you start your walk, luckily you only loved about 5 minutes away from the apartment. Playing music loud out of your phone, you loved this feeling and you had almost forgotten what it was like to have fun. But like clockwork there’s another message from Kai within seconds

‘just get home you brat’ you read, he wasn’t as mad at you thought he’d be. Brat was like a cute nickname he gave you sometimes, And finally you’re downstairs without even noticing. You take a deep breath as you open the door to your apartment, you see your boyfriend sitting on the couch watching TV. You always knew he was hot but seeing him after the talk with your friends at the bar made you see how bad you wanted to own him. Putting down you bag and walking towards him you straddle him on the couch and push him back.

“I take you by how you look, you drank a lot?” you put your hand on his chin and roll your eyes

“yeah? what about it?” you say as you kiss him roughly, moving your fingers through his hair. If there was one thing you knew about yourself getting drunk is that you get confident and horny. You start grinding against his cock, you smile into the kiss as you felt him get hard in his jeans. You didn’t even feel his hand make his way to your neck slightly choking you.

“And what makes you think it’s okay to talk to me like that-“

“shut up and let me fuck you for once” you cut him off as you slip your dress off through your arms, revealing your lacy red bra to him. You could see the anger displayed on his face but honestly you didn’t care, it only turned you on more. He starts to sit up but you push him back again, you knew he could break you in half if he wanted to so the fact that he was holding back from taking control meant you could do more. You reach down and undo his pants fast before he could even react. or do you thought

“Maybe you let the alcohol get to your head a little you much you fucking brat. You don’t fuck me, I fuck you” he grabs you by your waist lifting you up slightly as he slid your panties to the side. “Dont worry little lamb, i’ll show you who fucks who” he whispered into your ear and ran his fingers down your lips. In that moment you melted instantly, you took his cock out his boxers as you saw his eyes tell you to.

“Aw you’re backing down so fast? even more pathetic than i thought” he said before you could even gather words to say he jerked his hips up finally putting his cock inside your wet pussy causing a moan to leave your lips. One of his hands make his way to your back and take your bra off in a quick motion. After a few jerks up into you he stops

“didnt you want to fuck me? go on, try” your pussy was left throbbing, you knew you could never make yourself feel as good as he did but there you went being his obedient little slut and started riding him. Your thighs shook as you slid up and down his hard cock, you could barley keep the same rhythm.

“I can’t do it kai..” you let out a desperate moan, feeling pathetic.

“Oh you poor girl, it doesn’t feel as good does it?” he placed both his hands on your face caressing you softly before he slapped you across your left cheek, and holding onto your chin after. “look at me and beg me to fuck you, admit you were wrong. You could NEVER dominate me, deep down you know you love being my personal little toy.”

“you’re right, i cant and will never be able to do it like you. You own me and i fucking love it” you bite your lip slowly and place your hands on his shoulders

“Yeah that’s right you fucking slut” His hips jerked up to yours once again fucking you restlessly, your moans filling the room as you leaned your head down on his neck, moaning into his ear. “you love getting fucked till you can’t take it.. you.. love getting ruined by your God” he whispered between thrusts, driving you crazy.

“Oh my god yes kai, i fucking love it, i love you” you whimpered out as your legs began shaking again and your core tightening, your pussy throbbing around his cock. “fuck please let me cum please kai” his hands reached down to your ass, gripping you tight, holding you up so he could fuck you even deeper than you thought was possible.

“yeah you love it, i love you more my little slut but you can’t cum just yet” his free hand runs down to your clit as he rubs small circles around it just perfectly to overstimulate you. Your breathing gets heavy as you feel his cock throb inside you. “this perfect little cunt is all mine, you cum once i tell you do okay?” he whispers and kisses down your neck, his thrust getting harder and moans leaving his lips and into your ears.

“Fucking cum for me now” you felt your body give out as those words left his mouth, leaning completely on him as his arms go around you holding you close as he filled you up with his cum. “This cunt was made to take my fucking loads, oh fuck you feel so perfect when you cum around my cock” you feel his cum dripping out with your juices as he stayed inside you

“kai.. oh fuck you have no idea how much i love being yours. i love it when you mark my pussy with your cum” you whisper as he holds you in his arms, still not pulling out.

“I had to remind you who’s in charge, if i have to slut you out to show you that then i’ll do it a million times till it gets burned into your pretty little head.” he lifted your head up from the crook of his neck and kissed you roughly “And as cute as it was to see you try to even dominate me, don’t ever try that shit again. don’t test me.” his hand wrapped around your neck as he awaited your response “you got it?”

“yes divine ruler i promise” you said as his placed around kiss on your lips and lifted you off his cock with a groan going into your ear. you tried to stand up but with the alcohol in your system and your legs not working properly as your boyfriend had just fucked you like no other.

“come on baby i got you” he carry’s you in his strong arms, you let out a smile as he takes you to the bathroom. “let’s get you washed up, and get us ready for bed” you felt your heart melt, everyone knew kai as a mean stone cold person but with you he was different, you loved these loving moments you got with him. As he got you in the bath you tried to think of what you’d tell your friends tomorrow but quickly get distracted as he gets into the tub with you. his beauty always hit you as if it was your first time seeing him. “you’re so fucking beautiful you know that baby?” he says catching you off guard as you didn’t notice him looking at you the way you were at him.

“youre a different kind of beauty kai. one i could never be” this relationship was all you both could ever want it to be, you could see it in his eyes and he could see it in yours.

once again ty so much for this request, if anyone else wants to send more in i appreciate it so much! i hope this was good. - rain♥️

[lemonlyman-dotcom]

This Infinite Love

Once he’s closed the dishwasher door and hit start, TK leans against the opposite counter, mirroring Carlos’s position.

“Hi,” TK says with a cute little smile.

“Hi, baby.”

“What are you thinking?”

Carlos crosses the kitchen in two large steps, boxing TK in by placing a hand on the counter on either side of him. He presses a chaste kiss to his husband’s soft lips.

“I’m thinking… we make a pretty great team.”

A brilliant smile takes over TK’s face, crinkling the corners of his eyes and putting almost every tooth in his mouth on display. It’s how Carlos knows he’s truly, spectacularly happy.

Just like his brother.

“That’s my line,” TK whispers, pulling Carlos in for a deeper kiss. He smiles into it, working his tongue into TK’s warm, sweet mouth.

TK sighs, going pliant in Carlos’s strong and steady embrace.

There’s a sound of tiny feet pattering across the floor. “Are you KISSING?!”

They pull apart with a laugh, TK drops his forehead to Carlos’s chest and Carlos gently cradles the back of his head in one large hand.

“Yes, mijo, we’re kissing. But we need to get ready for Nochebuena tonight, why don’t you go up to your room and I’ll be up there soon to help you, okay?”

“Oh-kay,” Jonah says with a skeptical tone. Waiting a beat before running off across the living room and making his way up the steps. Slowly. Hand on the railing, two feet per step.

“Hey,” TK says once they’re alone again, rubbing a hand over Carlos’s heart. “Do you remember our wedding night?”

“How could I ever forget?”

He remembers barely making it through the loft’s front door before they were tearing each other’s clothes off. They made love on the living room rug and split a piece of leftover wedding cake afterwards, eating it straight out of the tupperware with their bare hands. Not even bothering to get dressed.

“Back then, did you ever think it would be like this?” TK asks, gesturing to the home around them. The beautiful, cozy, slightly chaotic home that they built together out of love, sacrifice and dedication.

“I didn’t,” Carlos answers honestly. He’d thought it would be years before they ever even talked about having kids. Thought they’d be in the loft for at least a decade. “But I knew it would be unexpected. I knew it would be an adventure,” He pauses to lean in and nip at TK’s earlobe “It’s always an adventure with you. You always make everything fun.”

TK bites his lip and giggles. “With my wild heart?”

“Yes. Your wild, generous, beautiful, incomparable heart,” he murmurs, feeling his affection welling up inside him, his heart beating out the rhythm of his love for Tyler Kennedy Strand.

Carlos leans in to kiss his husband one more time. “But, baby, I knew I could do it all with you by my side. And look, I was right. We don’t know what life is gonna throw at us next. But I do know I’m excited to find out… with you.”

Thanks for the tags @carlos-in-glasses @heartstringsduet @annoyingcloudearthquake @herefortarlos @alrightbuckaroo @carlossreaders @bonheur-cafe @tellmegoodbye @whatsintheboxmh @thisbuildinghasfeelings @henrygrass @everlastingday @goldenskykaysani 💕

Assuming most people who wanted to go already went, but tagging @laelipoo @chicgeekgirl89 @ladytessa74 @ironheartwriter @literateowl @nisbanisba @the-126-family @firstprince-history-huh @eclectic-sassycoweyes @emsprovisions @captain-gillian @paperstorm @welcometololaland @basilsunrise @lightningboltreader @liminalmemories21 @freneticfloetry @sapphic--kiwi @tinyluminaryzombie @kiwichaeng @guardian-angle22 @rmd-writes @reyesstrand @never-blooms @decafdino @certifiedflower @irispurpurea & OPEN TAG 🏷️

[danaduchy]

Listen, I realize I fucked up a lotta things. But I've managed one thing for now. Not to fuck this up, what we have. Sometimes when I wake up, feels like I'm back for a while. Like I got this body to myself. Like I'm free. Seconds later, feels like I'm missing something - something really important. Then I realize you're there, always were, and this stupid wave of relief washes over me. You're fuckin' closest to me by a long shot. There twenty-four seven. Of all the heads I coulda popped up in, hella glad it was yours. Wanna be clear - I will do you no wrong. When the time comes, it'll be my life for yours, I'll agree to get wiped. Tags are proof of my promise. | I'd do the same for you.

Said it was important to you, this thing with Kerry. | It was. But not more important than you.

Hoped for a lotta things in my time. And people I cared about got hurt. Don't need that happenin' again. Mind's made up - gonna stick with you these last moments. Allow me that much. Just glad you'll pull through. And that I got the chance to call you my friend. | I… I don't want you to die. | 'S OK, I know. Better this way, though. Scares me I can't stick around to see what happens - to you, the world. But honestly? Thought of you gone so I could live always scared me more. Think this is it, kiddo. Promise me one thing, will ya? | I promise. No idea what, but… I promise. | Not askin' you to never give up. Sometimes you gotta let go… Just don't let anyone change who you are, 'kay? | Johnny… I… | G'night, Vincent. Today was a good day.

[hollowed-hallowed]

Bonnie Bennett's Rarepair Bash 2024

Sunday, July 7th to Tuesday, July 16th

10 Days of Bonnie Bennett getting the love she deserves!

Each day has a word, a rarepair, and an ao3 tag. These are just for inspiration - all optional, not a requirement. Use whatever you wish to create for our favorite Bennett witch!

Prompts

DAY 01: Sunday, July 7th

Word: Drive

Ships: Baroline (Caroline Forbes); Tonnie (Tyler Lockwood)

Tag: "BAMF Bonnie Bennett"

DAY 02: Monday, July 8th

Word: Luminous

Ships: Klonnie (Klaus Mikaelson); Bonbekah (Rebekah Mikaelson)

Tag: "Soulmate"

DAY 03: Tuesday, July 9th

Word: Mend

Ships: Bonliv (Liv Parker); Bonkai (Kai Parker)

Tag: "Bonnie Bennett Leaves Mystic Falls"

DAY 04: Wednesday, July 10th

Word: Expectation

Ships: Bonlena (Elena Gilbert); Stefonnie (Stefan Salvatore)

Tag: "Alternate Universe"

DAY 05: Thursday, July 11th

Word: Gratitude

Ships: Bonlijah (Elijah Mikaelson); Bonley (Hayley Marshall)

Tag: "Vampire Bonnie Bennett"

DAY 06: Friday, July 12th

Word: Vendetta

Ships: Breya (Freya Mikaelson); Finnett (Finn Mikaelson)

Tag: "Canon Divergence"

DAY 07: Saturday, July 13th

Word: Eternal

Ships: Boncent (Vincent Griffith); Batherine (Katherine Pierce)

Tag: "Dark Bonnie Bennett"

DAY 08: Sunday, July 14th

Word: Shadow

Ships: Davonnie (Davina Claire); Kennett (Kol Mikaelson)

Tag: "Friends to Enemies"

DAY 09: Monday, July 15th

Word: Innocence

Ships: Boncel (Marcel Gerard); Original Character(s)

Tag: "Bonnie Bennett Goes To New Orleans"

DAY 10: Tuesday, July 16th

Word: Nocturnal

Ships: Bonora (Nora Hildegard); Crossover Character(s)

Tag: "Time Travel Fix-It"

RULES:

Rarepair for this event is a ship with less than 150 completed works, with main focus on the Bonnie ship. (Honestly, this is a casual event, so if you’re doing the bigger Bonnie ships, I'm not gonna stop you, but the focus is on the rarepairs - the rarer, the better.)

Crossovers, polyamory, OCs, LGBTQ+ are all welcome.

I’ll be reblogging folks work until the end of August, so if you’re late, no worries, still bring what you have when you can.

Please tag appropriately, even if that means you’re simply stating you’re not going to tag anything. (This is mainly for fic writers.)

Use #bbrarepairbash2024 so others can find your work. Tag me @/hollowed-hallowed and/or @/bbtvducollection, so I can make sure I reblog your creations. If there’s enough interest, I’ll start a collection on AO3.

Drop me a message or ask if you have any questions. I’ll see you all in July!

[heedmywarnings]

Severe Case of Not-Giving-A-Fuck

By yours truly, the most confusing writer in this app. Also yes, I will finish this. Yes, this story is unfinished. Why? Why not?

~--~

Okay I've abused this plot more than I've abused my own OC's so have this very bland meal I've prepared for people stalking this probably dead tag.

~--~

Why am I in this situation again? Who knows.

You just woke and found yourself in a Danganronpa class trial- wait no. This is the Opera House? I mean, I just woke up, man. I thought Neuvilette was Monokuma.

[I'm an artistic genius, I know.]

"Goodmorning, and welcome! ...my graceless, divine fraud!" A voice shooked me awake, not really but it gathered some of my remaining attention.

Fuck, Monomi? She was cool, but I didn't like her all that much. Wait no, that's Furina. I guess they're alike... in a way, I suppose.

"...what the fuck?" I murmured, though everyone probably heard it. "So, uhm. Morning?" Seriously, what the fuck is happening?

"Dearest Dark Diva of Divinal Deception! Are you ready to fight me until your blood has been drenched upon the foundation of my empire?" Furina laughed uproariously.

Okay maybe she's not really a Monomi, maybe a Gundham?

"Fight? Kay... do we start now or what?" I asked, honestly, I can't even open my eyes.

"Wha- first that blonde traveler, now you!? A-Am I not intimidating-?!" Furina grumbled in frustration. Neuvilette coughed, "Lady Furina, I'd advise you to calm down, especially in this scenario," He said.

So, Monokuma is Monomi, and Monomi is now a spineless Monokuma? Weird.

"Are we gonna fight with our bare hands? I don't really have a weapon." I yawned.

A person spoke up, "What are you suggesting to do, fraud?" Is it a monokub? Ah no, just Chlorinde. "Fight, isn't that what she wanted?" I point at the Archon.

"She means a Fight in court," Mono- Neuvilette responded.

Ah. A fight in Court. ....boring.

"Kay. Do we start now?"

"Do you even know what you're being accused of?"

"Should I know?"

...

"Very well. Let's begin," the Chirf Justice declared.

"Oh wait, who's the one prosecuting me?"

"You're worried about that?" Furina chimed in.

She sighed, "If you must know! Then take a look for yourself."

As she said those words, I turned to look at the individuals on the opposite side of the room.

"...Navia..? Oh wait, no its the Traveler. Sorry, you were both blonde."

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 26

So I’m writing this earlier than planned, plan was to schedule 25 days at a time and do so once I’m getting close to all of the previous ones being done posting. I’m only going to do Day 26 at this current time though just because Day 30 is directly related to my Vampire Junkan Fic's ending, and I feel like I’d be better off writing the description for that after actually finishing it.

Honestly i’m just procrastinating working on Chapter 9 lol

O~kay so day 26. The fuck do I say on this one?

Hm. i’m gonna level with ya’ll future audience i’m actually kinda fuckin stumped here. 

I guess this is the first pic I drew of this AU to actually feature Blood Drinking. That’s mildly interesting . . . c’mon jem you’re a professional at not shutting up you can make this work. 

. . . 

Can’t talk about the outfit, that’s for day 32.

Heart Eyes? Can I talk about heart eyes???

God dammit i have to actually write the fanfic don’t I?

Uhhhh, see ya’ll tomorrow I guess???? If yer reading these I hope you were mildly entertained by my bumbling.

As Always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated~ They always make my day!