#THEY LET US KNOW THAT THE MICS CAN BE SHARED AND I CHALKED THAT UP AS FORESHADOWING

[akkivee]

no but like fr, how did shakku know that hitoya would be thee guy to help clear kuukou of his assault charges???? how did shakku come to have so much faith in hitoya as a lawyer???? how did shakku learn hitoya’s a lawyer in the first place how does shakku know hitoya’s purpose is related to his brother how did—

[missacidburn928]

It's a year old but here's some holiday spice for you all while I wait in the urgent care with my autistic son.

I Really Do Believe In You....

Steve Rogers × Bucky Barnes x Thor Odinson × POC Singer!Reader "Honey"

Let’s see if you believe in me.

The Avengers Holiday party. You are both a guest and part of the musical entertainment. Will you end up on the naughty or nice list?

You spot them as they enter the main ballroom. Your three strapping men, color coordinated and cutting intimidating frames in their suit choices. Thank the goddess you had a good hold on the mic as you waited for your cue to join Sy in singing White Christmas, or you might have literally swooned in front of this mass of party goers.

You start your verse as you watch them make their way over to the bar where the team, plus one Sharon Carter, have gathered. Thankfully tonight’s event is Jane Foster free, so it should be a good night with you, Sy and the Chanti’s house band entertaining Tony’s rich friends and employees before enjoying some much needed time with your men.

You can't help but feel festive in your short red dress, studded red fishnets and nude pumps. You’ve kept your makeup simple with a nude lip and a smokey eye. Your hair down and in its natural state. Sy made a comment when picking you up that you looked like Santa’s little Siren. Seems appropriate if you do say so yourself.

Per usual you notice Sharon being a bit too chummy with your Captain. The woman just can’t help herself. You know all about the “kiss” when they were trying to save your beloved Bucky. But according to Steve the reason it never went further was because there was no spark when their lips touched. And he tried giving her a chance, chalking the lack of spark up to the stress of the situation, but she was way too into his status and power. So he ended things before it made it any further than a couple dates and a subpar makeout session.

What is it with these prude ass women that hang around these strong ass people? Sharon, like Jane, thinks your quad is ridiculous and you don't need that many men. Especially when you added Steve in. 

“He should be upholding traditional values as he’s America's golden boy. Not flaunting such an alternative lifestyle. Hell if he was gay it would be easier than this bullshit. Why on Earth would you want to willingly share a woman with two other men. Not to mention one of those men is a God and the other a murderer.”

Let's not forget what she also stated in that little rant of hers, when she was unaware you could hear her perfectly clear from your spot in the common room. “I just don’t understand what he sees in her. Who stays in a band with someone they used to be fuck buddies with? It’s just tacky and sad. A man that powerful should be with someone who is only devoted to him and can boost his image, not damage it. ” 

I’ll show her tacky. Lord knows I'm certainly not above being petty. I’ve been behaving for far too long. Time to put these Siren skills to use. What good are they to have if you can’t fuck with uppity bitches using them.

Continue

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

I really do, believe in you...

Wordcount: 2,860

Thor x POC Singer!Reader “Honey” x Bucky. Thor x POC Singer!Reader “Honey” x Bucky x Steve.

Summary:

Let’s see if you believe in me. The Avengers Holiday party. You are both a guest and part of the musical entertainment. Will you end up on the naughty or nice list?

Warnings:

Smut, Teasing, Dom Steve Rogers, Christmas Party, Office Sex, Polyamory, Steve Rogers is a Tease, Possessive Behavior, Not Sharon Carter Friendly, Domestic Avengers, Petty Reader, Dancing and Singing, Protective Bucky Barnes, Thor is just enjoying his mead

Notes:

Just a fun little snapshot for the holiday season! This one is very Steve heavy, but that's just where these characters took me. Have no fear though, the next full installment is VERY Thor-centric and Bucky will have his own installment to shine as well. Happy Reading Heathens! *I will have a set list of the songs used at the end. As well as links to the songs throughout the story. Please give these artists a listen!

Banner by @cafekitsune Divider by @firefly-graphics

You spot them as they enter the main ballroom. Your three strapping men, color coordinated and cutting intimidating frames in their suit choices. Thank the goddess you had a good hold on the mic as you waited for your cue to join Sy in singing White Christmas, or you might have literally swooned in front of this mass of party goers.

You start your verse as you watch them make their way over to the bar where the team, plus one Sharon Carter, have gathered. Thankfully tonight’s event is Jane Foster free, so it should be a good night with you, Sy and the Chanti’s house band entertaining Tony’s rich friends and employees before enjoying some much needed time with your men.

You can't help but feel festive in your short red dress, studded red fishnets and nude pumps. You’ve kept your makeup simple with a nude lip and a smokey eye. Your hair down and in its natural state. Sy made a comment when picking you up that you looked like Santa’s little Siren. Seems appropriate if you do say so yourself.

Per usual you notice Sharon being a bit too chummy with your Captain. The woman just can’t help herself. You know all about the “kiss” when they were trying to save your beloved Bucky. But according to Steve the reason it never went further was because there was no spark when their lips touched. And he tried giving her a chance, chalking the lack of spark up to the stress of the situation, but she was way too into his status and power. So he ended things before it made it any further than a couple dates and a subpar makeout session.

What is it with these prude ass women that hang around these strong ass people? Sharon, like Jane, thinks your quad is ridiculous and you don't need that many men. Especially when you added Steve in.

“He should be upholding traditional values as he’s America's golden boy. Not flaunting such an alternative lifestyle. Hell if he was gay it would be easier than this bullshit. Why on Earth would you want to willingly share a woman with two other men. Not to mention one of those men is a God and the other a murderer.”

Let's not forget what she also stated in that little rant of hers, when she was unaware you could hear her perfectly clear from your spot in the common room. “I just don’t understand what he sees in her. Who stays in a band with someone they used to be fuck buddies with? It’s just tacky and sad. A man that powerful should be with someone who is only devoted to him and can boost his image, not damage it. ” 

I’ll show her tacky. Lord knows I'm certainly not above being petty. I’ve been behaving for far too long. Time to put these Siren skills to use. What good are they to have if you can’t fuck with uppity bitches using them.

You wrap the song with Sy and address the room. “Once again I’m Honey, he’s Sy and they are the Chanticleers house band. I hope you’ve enjoyed your evening so far. We plan on keeping things fun, flirty and just a tad bit naughty. Might even make ya feel some things tonight. Requests are accepted but are subject to refusal. For this next one I’m going to need a certain Widow and White Wolf to report to the dance floor to really get this crowd moving and grooving.”

They exchange a look with each other, shrug and make their way over to the now cleared dance floor. A tango melody begins, which sounds remarkably like Billie Eilish's Bad Guy . As your sultry voice fills the space, your eyes feast upon the natural elegance of Bucky leading Nat across the floor. It’s turning you on, if you’re being honest with yourself. Two people you know very intimately, pressed close together, seducing the crowd with their bodies, is panty dampening. If you were wearing any that is.

As Bucky dips Nat for the last time, he tosses you a wink as he swings her out and they both take a bow.

“Now that the temperature has certainly risen, let's get those hips moving. We are a big band after all, let’s give ya a taste of what we do three nights a week at Chanti’s.” Sy starts tickling the ivory, leading the band in a 1920s cover of Levitating. You shimmy and sway your hips to the beat as people fill the dance floor once again. 

The whole team is cutting a rug, trying to get tips from Bucky and Steve on how to dance best with a partner to this upbeat rhythm. It truly is such a sweet sight to see. Even Sharon, trying to use this to her advantage isn’t phasing you. He entertains her for a few measures as she tries desperately to keep up with his footwork. He eventually pawns her off on an agent nearby and makes his way to the side of the stage.

Just before the music break he sneaks up and grabs your hand, spinning you into him as you finish the chorus. A ‘woo’ escaping you as you collide with his chest. He leads you in a simple swing as the band plays on, placing you back in front of the mic with a kiss to the jaw and a squeeze of the hips just in time for you to get back to serenading the crowd. 

Smooth asshole. I’ll be getting you back for that one, Sir.

“Should we keep this high energy up?” The crowd responds with ‘yes’ accompanied by hoots and hollers. “Requests are open if anyone has a suggestion.”

From the middle of the dance floor you hear Sam shout “I2I. I’m trying to get my goof troop on.”

You can't help but crack up at his antics, trying to pull one over on you. “Fortunately for you Samuel, we are well versed in the magic that is Tevin Campbell. But since you think you're so funny why don’t you come show these people your best Max moves and maybe you just might find yourself a Roxanne.”

Sy’s fingers produce the familiar synth beat from the electric guitar in his large hands, before the band joins in and brings this funky jam of your childhood to life. You have fun with it, goofing around with your back up singers and really livening the place up. You truly do shine when you are on a stage.

“Steve, why are you over here? Come back out on the dance floor with us.” Sharon whines.

“I’m content here with my drink currently. I’m admiring the view too much.” His eyes haven't moved from your body the whole song. Not even to address Sharon.

“Don’t you want to continue to have fun?”

“I’m having plenty of fun, trust me.” He taps his head, a devious smile crossing his face, as filthy thoughts of you fill his mind.

Just as she is about to open her mouth in response, the song ends and the dance floor bursts out in applause.

“Hot damn was that fun!” You shout out, catching your breath. “I think we all deserve a cool down after that.”

The crowd agrees with head nods and murmurs of yes. “Sy would you be so kind as to set up a chair for Steven to come join us on stage?”

You wink at him as you curl your fingers in a come hither motion to get him moving. He places his drink down and like a sailor following a Sirens song into the sea, travels across the parting dance floor, keeping eye contact with you, until he sits in the chair provided for him in the middle of the stage.

You reach over and pluck the Santa hat covering the extra mic stand. You turn toward the soldier sitting proudly in the chair behind and to the right of you. You take two steps and bend over, placing the festive red hat on his head with a kiss to his bearded cheek.

“Now that we have our Santa, I have a few things I’d like to ask for.” The band starts to play Santa Baby to the crowds whoops and applause. 

You give the room your full attention at first. Pouty lips, swaying hips, coquettish smiles as your fingers play with the mic stand. Steve’s eyes are glued to your backside the entire time, pants growing uncomfortable.

You grab the mic and begin to move about the stage as you sing about all the fellas you haven't kissed, with a wink to Thor and Bucky for good measure. Hips moving to the beat as you parade around the stage, dutifully ignoring your Captain. That is until you place yourself on his thighs asking him to come and trim your Christmas tree. 

You words and attention are only for him. The sexual tension you two have been playing with all night is beginning to leak out. The want in your voice as you ask one final time for him to ‘Hurry, tonight.”, is his breaking point. Especially as you slip off his lap and immediately address the crowd.

“Let’s give a round of applause to our wonderful Santa everybody.” The inebriated crowd hoops and hollers, as Steve, having discreetly adjusted himself, stands and takes a bow. As he passes you by, he places a hand low on your hip, giving it a squeeze. All while laying a kiss behind your ear with a low growl and a whispered command of “My office in 5.”

A shiver runs down your spin as he makes his way off stage. Eyes tracking him as he stops to talk to Thor and Bucky. Both men turn to you up on stage, Thor raises his glass with a wink and smug smile, while Bucky mouths ‘Naughty girl.”

“Looks like it’s time for this Songstress to call it a night.” Someone boos in the crowd. “Have no fear, the night is far from over. The house band is more than capable of keeping the party going. You’ll forget about little ole me in no time. For now I bid you adieu. May your night continue on with laughter and joy.”

You give a bow as Sy walks up to the mic. You give his bicep a squeeze and whisper “Knock em dead.” before exiting the stage.

You’re spread out on Steve’s desk, dress hiked up around your waist and the crotch of your fishnets ripped open, back arched as the golden Adonis between your thighs wrenches another orgasm from you with his tongue.

“Just had to tease me, doll.” He plunges two fingers, knuckles deep into your dripping folds. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the little game you were playing with Sharon.”

He crooks his fingers just so, playing with your sweet spongy spot, making you whimper out. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“I know you couldn’t. My naughty naughty girl.” He removes his fingers, leaving you feeling empty. You start to whine until you notice him unbuckling his slacks and pulling out his thick cock.

Your mouth begins to water as you lean forward, licking your lips, wanting a taste. He grabs your throat, pulling your head up. “Uh, uh dollface. As much as I want those pouty lips wrapped around my cock I need to be inside you more. Gotta remind you I’m not going anywhere as my cum slowly leaks out of you the rest of the night.”

As you open your mouth to respond with some kind of sassy retort, he grips your thighs and pulls forward, impaling you to the hilt on his length. You both moan out simultaneously as you adjust to his girth for a moment. A moment is all he grants you.

With an intensity comparable to a feral Bucky, Steve sets a back breaking pace. His strokes are hard and deep, hitting all your sweet spots, turning your muscles to mush in his capable strong hands. He’s so lost in imprinting himself to your body that he doesn't hear the door to his office opening. 

With half lidded eyes you watch as Sharon’s face emerges from the opening, jaw going slack with shock at the act of passion happening in front of her. As Steve grinds his pelvis into your clit after a particularly deep thrust, you lock eyes with the unsolicited blonde voyeur, letting every ounce of pleasure your feeling spring forth from your throat.

He growls out, nipping your neck, still unaware of your visitor. “Fuck babygirl. Squeezing my dick so tight. I can feel you’re close. C’mon. Cum for me. Give your Captain everything so I can fill you up.”

You smirk at Sharon before gripping Steve’s hair and guiding his lips to yours. You ignore the pest still at the door and proceed to grind back against your Captain as you bite his lower lip. It does as you intended and he slams into you harder, desperate to have you coming all over his dick.

You stay lost in each other, as Sharon retreats, quietly shutting the door back. Paying no attention to her surroundings, she runs straight into Bucky.

“Find what you were looking for Sharon?” He asks. “I was trying to find you and let you know that I would get Steve as he would most likely be indisposed. But I guess I was too late. See something you weren't supposed to?”

She swallows and just nods her head.

“Serves you right.” He grits out. “I hope for your sake you’ve finally learned your lesson that Honey isn't going anywhere.” A cruel smile crosses his face. “Knowing you though, I doubt that it has. I’m going to enjoy watching her take you down as you continue to step out of line. Let’s see how long you last this time.”

“He’ll get sick of her soon enough and I’ll be here to give him what he truly needs. A powerful man needs a woman fully devoted to him and only him.” She spits out.

“Keep deluding yourself, agent. You just witnessed how devoted they are to each other.” He shakes his head. “Get the fuck out of here. You’re not worth the hell Honey would give me for ruining her time with her Captain to deal with you.”

She glares at him before walking off down the hall at a brisk pace.

Uncaring of being stealthy, Bucky opens the office door and enters. He is there but a minute, listening to you come undone, before Steve is losing himself inside of you as you cling to him like a koala. His dick instantly hardens wanting to come out and play.

“Is there something I can help you with Buck?” Steve pants out, unwilling to pull himself for your warmth.

“I was just popping in to let you know Tony is asking for you. It’s time for speeches or whatever.” He replies.

You run your fingers through Steve’s hair as his head lays on your chest. “You run into Sharon in the hall or was she long gone by the time you made it here?”

Steve pushes himself up. “Why would he run into Sharon?”

“Ah, so she didn’t go unnoticed afterall." Bucky chuckles. "I caught her trying to sneak back to the party. Literally ran right into me after she shut the door.”

“What’s going on?” Steve queries. 

“Sharon came looking for you and found you ravaging me instead. I’m surprised you didn't hear the door open with your Super Soldier hearing.” You answer.

He starts to laugh. “Good. I hope she enjoyed the show.”

You slap him on the back. “Scoundrel. What am I going to do with you? How would the world respond, knowing that their golden boy can be such a pervy asshole?”

“As long as I’m your pervy asshole, I don’t care.” He kisses your collarbone.

“Alright Stevie.” Bucky speaks up. “Get yourself cleaned up before Tony comes looking for you himself. Sooner we get this done with, the sooner I can get my dick wet.” He winks at you.

“Selfish Beast.” You tease him as Steve pulls out, He scoops any of his spend that’s leaked out onto his fingers and pushes them back inside you making you moan out.

“I’m gonna enjoy knowing I'm slowly leaking out of you the rest of the night.” He makes you lick his fingers clean. “Let’s see how long it takes before more is added shall we.”

“You go on ahead.” Buck calmly states. “I’m contributing my claim now. Hope you don't mind me using your office.”

“Just don't do anything stupid while I’m gone.” Steve responds as he opens the door and heads out into the hall.

“How can I, when you’re taking all the stupid with you?” Bucky shouts back, before locking the door behind him and making his way over to your still spread thighs.

“You are not nearly ruined enough for me to allow you out of here.” He circles your throat with his flesh hand. “Let me rectify that.”

[jujutsu-headcanons]

Gojo Satoru general headcanons

Let's get one thing clear: this man is absolutely chaotic. He is always full of energy. His energy levels never reach below 50%. He is loud and proud, always running, and never takes a minute to relax.

Do not give him Monster. Shoko did that once and it took her forever to get him off the ceiling. Also, avoid caffeine. Shoko replaces his normal coffee with decaf and he still hasn't noticed the difference. Keep it that way.

He was the class clown when he was younger. He wasn't exactly a trouble maker, but he may as well be. I cannot word that sentence and I am sorry. Next.

All of his teachers assumed he never listened in class, so they always called in him when they thought he wasn't paying attention. It still shocked them every time he rattled off the correct answer.

Not only did he answer the question correctly, but he could also explain his reasoning behind the answer, and if it was multiple choice, explain why the other answers were wrong. 

This tall man child would march up to the board and absolutely fill it to the brim with work, turn around, drop the chalk-like a mic drop and walk back to his desk with the smuggest look on his face.

That doesn't mean he did the work tho

Idk how schools in japan work but we all know schools in America only care about the amount of work you do and not what you actually know so we'll use that for the sake of the headcanon: he had straight D's bc he never turned in his work

Despite not doing the work snd goofing off, teachers actually really liked him

A lot of people liked him and he was super popular, but he still felt alone

Fake friends, you know how that works, he didn't meet any real friends until he became a shaman

Clean freak. This dude actually makes his bed. He scrubs his bathroom twice a week. His desk can get cluttered but he straightens up once a week. He's not exactly a germaphobe because

He cannot respect your personal space and that's actually canon but let me take it a step further 

He's a slapper. Especially when he laughs. It doesn't hurt, it's playful dw. He hugs you from behind especially when he's cold. He picks you up and carries you around. He will grab your wrist, arm, or hand and lead you around even if you're following him. He lays his legs across you or lays across your lap. Puts his head on your shoulder. Platonic cuddling between friends is mandatory. He's just so hands-on it's ridiculous.

Unless you explicitly tell him you're uncomfortable he won't stop

Don't worry, if you aren't in that type of relationship, your no-no square is safe. Except, if you seem chill, he will slap your ass regardless of friendship status. His ass is also slappable. You can't tell me Geto and Gojo didn't run around slapping each other asses, okay

He was weird and scrawny as a child. He didn't start beefing out until he started training to be a shaman and he's still kinda smaller than most beefy boys

He can pick you up and throw you around easily. He carried around a 170 pound Yuji like a sack of potatoes and can easily carry around three times that weight

It's amazing he's so tiny because you remember 2014 Shane Dawson making all of those wack ass desserts that was just s pile of chaos wrapped in chocolate?

He can eat every last bite of one of those monstrosities without getting a stomach ache, gaining weight, or dying basically

He knows bc Yuji dared him to do it

He has really cold hands and feet

He sounds old. Let me elaborate. He's constantly cracking his joints. They also creak when he moves. He complains about body pains like he's 80 y/o

He also shares wisdom with the kids as if he's actually 80 y/o

It's irrelevant advice that doesn't make sense but is also useful. Megumi can't count the number of times he's asked Gojo for feedback on his technique but had been told to remember to chew 40 times or never go to bed angry

Starts off sentences with "now son" and "when I was your age"

He uses his blindfold as a headband when he wants his hair out of his face. He also uses headbands as... Headbands... When he wants to wear sunglasses but get his hair out of his face

He owns so many pairs of sunglasses but he always wears the same pair

He's only bought a handful of them himself, most of them are gifts

No one knows what to get him for Christmas or his birthday bc he has everything, so they resort to sunglasses

His favorite pair is a pair that Shoko and Geto bought him as a gag. He thought they were dead serious, though, so he wore them around for a month

They were heart-shaped, rose-tinted glasses

Can you believe this man doesn't use any gel or anything to keep his hair spiky with the blindfold on? It just naturally defies gravity when the blindfold is on

Tell this man he's pretty because he already knows. He's narcissistic but not the cringy kind

Photogenic as hell. Takes great pictures from any angle. 

He gives everyone a different story as to why he covers his eyes. Sometimes he says it's because his eyes are too pretty and are a distraction. Sometimes he says it's because the sunglasses/bandages/blindfold look cooler than his eyes. Sometimes he says it's to protect the six eyes from seeing things he doesn't want to see. The world may never know

He's tried covering his whole face before, but he thinks he's too pretty for that. He at least wants one of his many amazing features to be shown at all times.

So about his driver's license;

He knows how to drive. He can be a good driver. When he wants to be. He just doesn't have a driver's license.

Now he TELLS people he just never got around to getting one, however, there's a rumor he lost it due to too many parking tickets

It's amazing the only tickets he's ever gotten have been from that and once he got caught without a seatbelt; he would have gotten out of that one if he hadn't been flirting with the police officer so bad

This doesn't stop Gojo from driving places though

He steals Ijichi's car a LOT and Ijichi DOESN'T KNOW HOW like??? The windows are never broken and it doesn't look hotwired-

Gojo has a key

You're not even supposed to be able to duplicate car keys but Gojo did 

Also; none of the first-year trio knows he doesn't have a driver's license, though that much should be painfully obvious

He whips around corners, speeds up at yellow lights, goes "watch this" and does a donut, it's just a mess

The poor students have to sit in the backseat too. Just imagine Megumi with all three seatbelts around him like that one meme.

He thrives off of Nobara and Yuji screaming from the backseat, and he can see Megumi being smooshed because he thought the middle seat was the safest through the rearview mirror

Which he doesn't even need because of the six eyes

Despite being such a reckless driver, he knows when danger will happen, so he's never once gotten in a wreck

He blasts the radio, which makes up for the driving.

Has a habit of getting in a car and ending up in the McDonalds drive-thru

Steals other people's fries and keeps the fullest one for himself.

He was rebellious as a kid and teenager, but hey, at least his juvie record is sealed 

He's been detained and in the back of a cop car many times, but the reason was never really bad enough for him to be arrested. Mostly he's just being mouthy. And the time he got caught spray painting on the side of a building. And that one time he and Getou hopped the fence to get into the local pool. And that other time-

It got worse after Getou wasn't around to get him out of trouble. Suddenly, breaking the rules wasn't fun anymore and he mellowed out. 

Tried alcohol and cigarettes before he was legal. Decided neither was his thing, however, he did start drinking occasionally when he was legal.

He's a fucking chaotic drunk. Oh my god he's absolutely feral

Most bars in the vicinity know him by name and they sigh whenever he walks in

Shoko is his emergency contact. She hates it

Shoko has to drag drunk Gojo home at least twice a month and is not happy about it

Once she left him in an alley. He made it home okay so she guesses it's fine

Once he got so drunk he spilled beer on his sock. The thought the fastest way to dry them was by sticking them in the microwave. Forgot about it until someone asked, "Who the fuck is cooking socks???"

I feel it important he was in the break room of the local grocery store and no one knows how he got there

As he was escorted out he stole a grocery cart and rode away in it while singing Don't Threaten Me (With A Good Time) by Panic! At The Disco

He has no alcohol tolerance at all what so ever

He will literally just stare at you and giggle

It's funny he's really flirty but also doesn't seal the deal. Literally, every woman in that bar is willing to get in his bed but he declines every offer. No one knows why

Its because he respects women

He helps his students break the rules as long as they're within reason. Once night Yuji was really hungry and after having a temper tantrum he couldn't order Uber eats bc the school is supposed to be secret Gojo helped sneak him out to get food. Who needs curfew anyway.

The shirts in his closet range from like twenty bucks to the iconic rich bitch shirt the kids ruined in that one chapter we all know the one 

He still wears that by the way, he calls it "art" 

When he was younger, Megumi drew a picture of Gojo being eaten by his shadow dogs. Gojo found it and now it's framed in his room.

He keeps up with current trends and memes like no one's business. This is how he bonds with his kids.

Don't call him old, but also, he'll tell you to respect your elders it's a mess

He has a lot of games on his phone. You can usually find him holding his phone sideways playing some RPG game he probably spent too much money on 

He did hop on the Pokemon Go hype train but after becoming overpowered he got bored

This happens to a lot of games. He pays way too much money, gets to be the strongest in the server, and gets bored

He likes games where you can kill other people's troops and likes to watch as they lose all their power

I canon him as being borderline sadistic

This is why he's Sakata Gintoki reincarnated

White hair, sweet tooth, black leather clothes, dad vibes, never takes anything seriously bc when he does he's scary as fuck, the works.

He is Sakata Gintoki

He liked Gintama growing up. He watched a lot of iconic shows as they aired. He considers himself an og

He's hella bilingual

Because he's the strongest he goes overseas for missions a lot. Because of this he speaks a lot of languages and knows a lot about international cuisine 

He takes pictures of himself eating disgusting foods like snails. He never likes them but he loves the idea of Nobara gagging back in japan

Has paperwork sitting untouched on his desk from three months ago that he will not touch for at least another three months

Does the crossword puzzles in the newspaper every week

Uses humor as a coping mechanism and it honestly just became a personality

Constantly popping his joints. I'm sorry if you find this gross I too find it gross.

Probably brought home every stray animal he ever met ever until he was at least like 22 y/o

Tags: @wasabito @kittaliapenn

[raisinghellonstarbug]

Stumbled Into Laughter, Stumbled Into You - A James Acaster x Reader Story

Basic plot: The year is 2019, and life has been quite dull for you since working in a job that you hate for the past two years after graduating from university. You used to do stand up comedy at uni, but you’ve been putting off pursuing it due to lack of confidence and motivation. Your best mates decide to encourage you to try a comedy mic night for the first time ever and while there you incidentally run into an old mate of yours, comedian Rhys James. That’s when your life gets turned around as you end up diving into the world of the comedy circuit and becoming close with other famous British comedians. In the midst of it all, you end up meeting a particularly distinctive red headed fellow who might end up being the very thing that brings meaning to your life again.

*

A/N: Hello Acaster fans!

So this was an idea I have had in mind for the last few months and I finally finished the first chapter of my story!

Just so you know, the first chapter does not include James, but be patient as he will appear soon (but maybe not quite as soon as you hope). I do reckon it will be worth the wait for his appearance, or at least I hope the story is still enjoyable! It is a slow burn so if you are an inpatient person, then this story might not be for you ;)

You can read this chapter below or if you prefer, there is also the link to the chapter posted on Ao3 right here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33748507

-

Rating: M

Chapter 1 word length: 2326

Characters: James Acaster (duh), Original Female Characters(s), Original Male Character(s), Rhys James, Ed Gamble, Nish Kumar, Josh Widdicombe

Relationships: James Acaster x Reader/you, Original female character/Original Male character

Story tags: Romantic comedy, domestic fluff, slow burn, fluff and smut, British comedy, eventual relationships

Tagging: @laurabeech @rilannon @jasclearwaters @marklily @queensantiagoofthe99

Chapter 1 - Summer 2019

You were sitting at your desk at your mundane job, practically ready to blow your brains out on the usual, dull Thursday afternoon. It was really warm and stuffy inside the fifteen story office block building situated in Canary Wharf. This was a place you found yourself five days a week, doing the typical 9 to 5 hours. A usual day for a usual person.

Your job wasn’t a particularly riveting one. As an underwriter for an insurance company, some days could get especially boring. You knew how to do the job well, but it was not something you really loved. It involved all kinds of clients and claims in paperwork and it sometimes felt tedious and unfulfilling. But hey, it still paid your share of rent and bills. At least you could say you could manage in the hustle and bustle of the London lifestyle.

It was nearly hometime and you were itching to get home and relax. But before that could happen, there were those last set of insurance cover forms you had to copy to get sent to the HR department. And so you typed away on your laptop, clickety clack, clickety clack… the minutes went by like a chalk on a blackboard, scraping away at a snail’s pace.

You put your full force of concentration on the documents on the screen until it was finally done. A sense of achievement was necessary in these moments despite your lack of enthusiasm. It was in the little victories you reminded yourself. You rubbed the sweat from the July heat off your forehead.

* * *

The last 2 hours eventually passed by and it was soon the rush to get out of the door before you got held up by your colleagues. They were nice enough, but sometimes they could hold you back for half an hour chatting when you just wanted to get home, or your manager might try and get you to stay an hour overtime.

Thankfully you did get out promptly, and as you ran and dashed out of the office building saying brisk goodbyes to coworkers, you managed to make it to the tube with the train just arriving on time. But not without being moderately sweaty and hot though. Bloody stuffy platforms.

As expected it was still a busy train with plenty of 5pm finishers getting themselves situated on the half crowded carriages, but as it was only 10 past, it wasn't the worst time of day for commuting yet.

You perched yourself on one of the tube’s seats and let your shoulders drop, having held the tension in your body from sitting at a desk all day. You placed your head slightly back, balancing it on the window of the train. You looked up momentarily above you and then lifted your head back up to look at your phone and choose a song to listen to on Spotify through your wireless earphones.

The streams of sound from one of your favourite songs began to play softly in your ears and you smiled, knowing that the song gave you a little bit of wistful joy. You started mouthing the words.

Call it all for nothing, but I'd rather be nothing to you. Than be a part of something, something that I didn’t do (Best to You - Blood Orange).

The words half mean something but not necessarily anything. You began to wonder about being part of something that you’re not.

I just wish I could float away from my unexciting existence… you thought to yourself.

It sometimes occurred to you that you might have wanted something more out of life, but weren’t entirely sure what. It doesn’t make you dreadfully sad, but you know that life for you hasn’t exactly been the best it could be, and that perhaps something was missing. You wish you knew what it was.

You sighed, ignoring the feeling of sorrow wash over you momentarily and propped yourself back up in the uncomfortable seat of the train. You tried to keep yourself awake so that you wouldn’t miss your stop. The music continued through your ears.

* * *

You opened the door of the three bedroom flat that you had been residing in for the last two years with your flatmates and sighed with relief that you had finally reached home. You hurried to get your handbag off your shoulder and your shoes off, placing them on the rack next to the front door and walked through the hallway.

The minute you poked your head through to the lounge, bellowing a faint hello to whoever was around, you were suddenly greeted by one of your best friends and flatmates, Grace.

“Ahh Y/n! You’re home. Thank christ!”

She grabbed you and reached her arms around to embrace you tightly. You were perplexed by this gesture as it was so random and unusual given that Grace lived with you and saw you everyday of the week. You frowned and reluctantly placed your arms around her to return the hug.

As she then let go, she looked at you with urgency in her eyes and shrieked with excitement, “Oh Y/n guess what? It looks like I’m up for a promotion! Can you believe it?”

Now processing the reason for such an embrace, you raised your eyebrows in glee and smiled proudly, gushing back to your best mate who was obviously chuffed by the matter.

“Oh wow Grace, that's fantastic! I mean, finally. It is about bloody time!”

She smiled, “Yes I guess it is. But I mustn't get too excited. I haven’t officially got the promotion yet.”

“Ah but no. I’m not having any of that. You will get that promotion. It is a guarantee. They would be idiots to not give it to you.” Grace rolled her eyes and bit her lip. She reluctantly nodded and agreed.

The smell of food distracted you momentarily from the conversation. It was a particularly appetising smell.

Grace uttered, “Yes that smell is good isn’t it? Theo insisted on cooking us a nice meal for me as a celebration.”

You smiled knowingly, having known about how Grace and Theo had been in relationship limbo ever since you three became close friends at university. You knew they both had feelings for each other but often danced around the subject, completely oblivious to one another’s obvious attraction to the other. You reckoned they had to do something about it one day.

“Thank fuck. I wasn’t prepared to make dinner tonight. I am too tired for that.”

Grace then had her worried face on. She instantly knew, as she knew you too well, but funnily enough never picked up on Theo’s emotions despite constantly wondering about them, that something was wrong.

“Are you ok babe?” she asked with a look of pity that you scornfully resented.

You sighed, half lying, “Yes. I’m fine. Just tired is all.”

You made a beeline for the couch knowing full well that you were going to talk about it whether you liked it or not. You knew that Grace would see right through your dishonesty and insist that you told her the problem.

So you waited until Grace inevitably sat next to you and gave you that sympathy look she always gave you before coming out with the concerns that were floating around your brain.

“OK fine. I know you won’t leave me alone unless I tell you.”

“Ahh, you know me so well…”

“Yes, just as you know me. I’m just- I’m fed up. Work was slow. I don’t really feel like I’m associated with my life. I feel... disconnected, I guess.”

“Do you have any idea why?”

You shrugged and looked down at the floor and then back at Grace smiling sheepishly, “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not- not fulfilled? I just don’t thoroughly enjoy my life right now.”

Grace nodded and put a hand on your leg. You twitched your face in slight discomfort. You hated it when you were given sympathy for something that seemed so miniscule. It wasn’t like you were dying.

It was times like this when you just wanted to curl up in your bed, eat a tub of ice cream and watch your favourite comedy programmes. 8 Out of 10 Cats Does Countdown sprang to mind.

As you sat in momentary silence for a bit, Theo came waltzing through from the kitchen with his silly apron on that had a naked man’s body printed on it, and a spatula in his hand. He smiled at you.

“I thought I heard your voice. I hope meatballs for dinner are good tonight. Not mine of course,” gesturing to the apron as he said it.

You shook your head at Theo’s poor dad joke and stood up to hug him. You realised that you must be really down in the dumps to be hugging Theo. It was his turn to be confused. He looked towards Grace wide eyed.

“She’s had a particularly tough day. But mind you babe, you’ve kinda been like this for weeks now.”

You let go of Theo and turned to Grace, frowning and feeling slightly defensive. You placed a hand on your hip.

“Been like what? I’ve just been a bit fed up, that's all.”

“Yes but it’s not just a bit fed up. You said so yourself you feel disconnected. We’ve been waiting for you to say it.”

You looked to Theo and he nodded gently in agreement.

“Ok… but, nothing is really wrong exactly. My life is fine.”

“Fine, yes. But not amazing. We know it’s getting you down. And the job is the problem.”

“But I’m good at it. And it pays the bills. What else am I supposed to do?”

Grace then looked away from your eyes then, twitching her lip and looking as though she was holding something back. She then sighed and began to admit something you had not been expecting.

“OK look. We know what you can do. Theo and I have figured it out. We can manage money wise. It will be tight, but if you quit your job we should be able to help you out for a little bit.”

Your eyes grew wider than large saucepans. You were totally bewildered and your mouth slightly agape.

“What? Quit my job? Why? What work would I get instead?”

“Well, maybe you won't quit your job yet. Maybe you’re right, that's too hasty. Perhaps what I’m trying to say is-”

Theo then chimed in, “-what Grace is trying to say is…”

You smirked to yourself. How do they not realise that they’re already a couple but without the sex? They’re practically married for christ sake.

“...we reckon that you need to pursue your passion. Perhaps stop wasting your talents in an office job that you hate.”

Grace continued, “yes exactly. We have had an idea in mind. See, we want you to go to this thing… it’s no biggie but well, we’ve already booked it for you.”

Your mind was racing. You couldn’t understand anything that they were saying to you. It was all too much for you to manage.

“Booked what for me? What the hell are you both going on about?”

They both looked at each other with reluctance, pondering the moment and whether to tell you the whole truth. They both shrugged and Grace was then pulling her phone out, this whole conversation beginning to appear as though they had been trying to practice it.

Suddenly Grace’s phone screen was wavering in your face. You moved your head closer to see a photo on the screen. It was a comedy club night poster. Incidentally, it was an open mic night event happening on Saturday night. You began to then put the puzzle pieces together. You folded your arms and frowned heavily.

“What the fuck have you two done now?”

Theo softly spoke, “We… booked you a slot to do that comedy open mic event thing, on Saturday night.”

“Wait. As in to perform? You can’t be serious-”

Grace tried to reassure you and grabbed your arm.

“Look, we know it might seem daunting, but we just wanted to see you happy again. It’s been two years since we graduated and you haven’t performed since then. We thought it might be good to encourage you to perform again. You were always funny to us. And people at uni thought so too. You have the stand up talent, Y/n.”

You could not process anymore. You shook your head in disbelief and placed your head in your hands, rubbing your eyes from sudden exhaustion. You then threw your hands up in exasperation. It was not possible. You could not do that again.

Fucking no way. I can’t be on stage again! It’s too scary. University pub nights are one thing but a comedy club?

You shook your head again and placed your hands on your hips. Grace tried to speak up again seeing the frustration painted across your face. In fact it was anger that your friends chose to do this without your say so.

“Y/n…”

“No. Nope. I’m not doing it. No.”

“But Y/n, we were also going to tell you that Theo is also thinking of doing the same thing! He wants to do his music again. What harm would it be for you to rejuvenate your comedy skills? Surely you can write a quick couple of gags. Nothing strenuous. You have your old material from university, right?”

You had to get out of the room. Nothing that they were saying to you could be fully accepted at that moment.

You then gave them no choice but to let you go with your head in a flurry. They both watched you leave the room, mumbling something along the lines of I’m not really hungry anymore, I’m going to bed. Soon after, you darted across the other end of the hallway, ill-tempered and almost seething, and slammed your bedroom door shut.

[bbq-hawks-wings]

Chapter 316: BBQ is capable of critiquing BNHA and… Oh boy.

Let's start this off properly, Horikoshi's typical quality of writing has been diminishing in recent chapters, but this week it was so different that it didn't even feel like Horikoshi was the one who wrote it.

To be clear, I'm not blaming Horikoshi for the issues I'm about to bring up. The man is criminally overworked, usually doesn't even get the final say in what makes it in the final drafts, and even in his other rough patches he's still produced decent chapters that hold up amongst the grand scheme of things. This feels like something else is going on behind the scenes, and while I have my suspicions on who/what might be the culprit behind it, I choose not to share it at this time because if I name names some people might go off on a crusade, and that's not what I want.

I just want to be clear that I'm not blindly firing off shots in the dark, but despite my frustrations I want to wait to see if this gets resolved down the line, and while I do I can complain about the specific reasons this chapter left such a bitter taste in my mouth.

Buckle up, buttercups, because we got a lot of points to cover.

Where's the Gun?

Not a literal gun, but I mean Chekhov's Gun. It has always been a staple of Horikoshi's writing and the reason so many of his long-standing plot lines have paid off so well.

Chekhov's Gun is a writing principal that if you see a gun on the table in the first act of a play, it will be used in the murder that happens in act 2. Basically, the author should include details that are relevant to the story and not betray the audience by leading them in one direction and at the last minute pull the rug out from underneath them to go in another direction.

Horikoshi has done this to phenomenal success in the past. Just as one example, he dropped hints about Nomu being human experiments early in the series but held off explicitly stating it for a while. He hinted at the loss of Shirakumo in the main narrative and that he was important to Aizawa and Mic as well as approved it for Vigilantes so when it was revealed that Kurogiri was Shirakumo's body, not only did it narratively make sense but it also pulled in Eraserhead and Present Mic's emotional stakes into the battle with the Doctor, and then when Ujiko reveals he was after Aizawa's quirk the whole time it made the payoff for Mic punching him in the face all that much better and brings the weight of his crimes and the impact they have on the victims full circle.

That's 3 different guns paying off in the long run: the Nomu, Shirakumo, and both Mic and Eraserheads' personal arcs past the loss of their childhood friend and that they could finally finish processing their grief and avenge him in full righteous fury instead of chalking it all up to cruel chance.

He has left details, some particularly innocuously, in plot lines like the Touya Todoroki reveal, Hawks' backstory, Shigaraki's blood connection to Nana Shimura, even with Mr. Compress's backstory, and more. When re-read, these details become more obvious and usually leaves us with a greater sense of satisfaction in the plot knowing that twists and turns were not only planned, but built up to and hinted at for us to find so the payoff is that much better and it feels purposeful instead of just shock factor.

None of that happened this chapter.

Lady Nagant has zero business being in this plotline. She was never hinted about before this arc, and her existence does nothing to tell us about the plot moving forward or the world that they're trying to change. Nothing her existence provides actually has any bearing on the universe or tells us anything we don't already know. But that's not how she was presented.

In the beginning we're given a glimpse of her helping Overhaul escape from Tartarus. The focus on her was odd enough to begin with as a new character, and the fact that she didn't look like she fit the profile of someone who belonged in Tartarus was like a flashing neon sign saying, "Pay attention! This new character is important!!!" She then shows up later with Overhaul in hand to attack Deku out of the blue. We get her talking about how she thought Overhaul might be useful and her disillusions with Hero Society. We catch her mannerisms with eery similarity to Hawks only to find out immediately after she was a senior colleague in the HPSC. Never once to my knowledge has Hawks referred to any of his senior colleagues as a "senpai" - not even his fellow heroes - and when he catches her in midair, he uses the words, "Don't die on me, senpai!" as if she's near and dear to his heart.

The entire character arc is set up for her to have known about Hawks and grapple with her desire to help people and her fear of re-creating what she hated, and this also set up Hawks to be the successor who succeeded where she failed and helped bring her to a place where she could be a hero without guilt again. What actually happened?

They're strangers.

They have never actually met before, and while he seems to know a lot about her, she doesn't even seem to have any idea of who he was - at least as far as being another hero under the thumb of the HPSC. So ALLLL that setup, all that gesturing, and all of the potential themes that would be right at home in an arc like this goes completely out the window.

Her story doesn't tell us anything new. The HPSC bad. We knew that. They're not above throwing innocents under the bus to achieve that goal. We knew that. They preyed upon young hopefuls with powerful quirks with the intent to maintain the status quo. We knew that even if the fact that Hawks isn't the only one now makes more questions than answers. We know that these young heroes can never say no under threat of steep, life-shattering consequences. We knew that already.

So what does Lady Nagant even bring to the table?! The entire "you're just a puppet doing what you've been told" angle is a little tired and out of place in this point and time with actual anarchy in the streets (not to mention hypocritical considering she was a blind puppet following orders and offers zero actual solutions that supposedly fall in line with her heroic nature), and it could have been left to any number of other villain characters who could have executed on the theme better - you know, like Shigaraki who's justification this entire time has been, "hero society doesn't make people safe, it just makes them feel safe" from the moment of his inception.

So from that angle she's unnecessary.

Her presence messes with the continuity of the series as well. If Hawks is supposed to explicitly replace her, that would mean that he wasn't just a fluke find on the commission's part and grabbed to mold into their own special superweapon; and that also would mean that her killing of the former president was before he was discovered which should put her at least in her forties. If this isn't the case, and he was meant to simply replace her in a "special agent" case, that still begs the question of how many more gifted children the commission preyed upon and are still out there.

And maybe the worst kicker for me is that something stinks. The way the art in this chapter is presented, if you completely blanked out the speech bubbles, is the same setup I had before - Hawks reaches out to his former mentor and pulls her from the brink of despair with a moving message about why he never gave up hope in being a hero who could actually make a difference.

Again, this is not what we got. He claims he knows her, and it's implied to have been a deep, personal character witness; but at best he only knows about her from secondhand sources. Even his reasoning as to how he never lost hope doesn't vibe with his character.

We have gotten so many cool one-liners for Hawks, but there has always been a consistent tone and imagery with them.

"Those who can fly, should."

"I don't belong in a cage."

"I'm free of my shackles."

"Can I be a shining light, just like him?"

What we got was, "I'm an optimist to a fault" which was the wording the official release went with and was by far the best iteration I have seen, but even this falls short of being truly in character for him and answering her question properly.

@mikeana made an edit of the titular panels for us Hawks stans this week with dialogue we and a few other friends felt was more fitting not only with the imagery of the chapter itself but internally consistent with the specific expressions Hawks uses in his heartfelt, personal dialogue. I just tweaked it a little bit more to fit what I was going for in our original conversation.

Which brings me to another concern.

2. What's the point?

There was no use for Nagant in the series as she's been presented so far. But more than that, Hawks has no business in this fight to begin with. He literally did nothing to earn this emotional moment, and this should have been Deku's moment.

We were teased in an interview with Horikoshi that Hawks was going to get a special moment as an important end-game character as a "shining light" of hope for others to follow as well as promises for Ochako to have another moment in the spotlight to make a difference.

If this was Hawks' shining light moment, it wasn't necessary, and it does nothing to move the plot forward or develop characters in any true or believable way. It just happened because plot. This should have been Deku's victory through and through, and even he is the reason BOTH Hawks and Nagant made it out alive instead of painting the street below them.

Deku's victory was stolen from him, too. It sours the other promises made to us about other characters moving forward, as well, if this really was Hawks' "Shining Light" moment.

By the way, did you forget about Overhaul? Me too!!! What was the point of getting our hopes up about reintroducing this beloved character with the implications this was a major arc setup to have him scream about pops and then get detained with no clues about what's going to happen to him besides, "Say you're sorry to Eri, and you get to see pops"?!

All this posturing and clumsy narrative flailing only actually succeeded in getting Deku in front of AFO again for plot when we already know Mr. Potato Head could summon, show himself to, or find Deku at any time he wanted. But instead we get this time skip with a bunch of heroes completely mended walking into a big, spooky mansion for AFO to evil monologue at Deku for… *counts*

FOUR PAGES!!!

Only to then give him the "I want YOU!" point over a pre-recorded message and the final nail in the coffin to me that something is off.

3. Ex-pu-LOOOO-SHUN!

It's become almost a game among friends to count how many explosions have happened since the end of the war arc - and specifically fake-out explosions. In the end of 311 we get All Might's car attacked via explosion and Deku cornered by Nagant only for All Might to be fine in the next chapter. In 315 Lady Nagant herself explodes in a blaze of glory to once again not be dead.

Gee! I wOnDeR if aLl the heroes were AcTuAlLy cornered and KiLlEd in that explosion in the mansion!

None of us do. They're fine. We're going to see it first thing next week. The shock has worn off, and it's repetitive and annoying at this point. There is no cliffhanger despite how the framing might try to tell you otherwise.

It's BAD WRITING.

The writing has been moving far too quickly and clumsily with no explanation in sight, and even character interactions are being cut short to the point of them being meaningless and empty.

This doesn't even feel like Horikoshi's bad writing. It feels like someone else is trying to call the shots and rushing him through these final bits of the series, and he's run out of things he's previously set up for months and months to reappear so someone is trying to get Dabi-reveal levels of attention with arcs and storylines that don't have the build-up to result in a satisfactory payoff.

4. At least it can get better... I hope.

Maybe those who share my suspicions or know what particular suspicions I have are with me in believing that this is a temporary disappointment and we haven't seen the last of the writing that's captivated me for years. I don't blame Horikoshi for these glaring faults that all came to a head in this chapter.

It CAN get better later, and I think it WILL- we just probably are going to have to wait for it. Until then, I'm going to enjoy the Hawks panels we got, maybe edit the last few chapters to be more in line with something more like the BNHA I know in a "fix it fic" fashion so I don't groan in anticipation of how long it might take us to get there.

See you all next week, hopefully on a much brighter note.

[cyanide-mustard]

Distraction (Part 1)(Reggie Peters X Reader Fanfic)(JATP)

This is my first time writing/posting a fanfic so please go easy on me but also constructive criticism is appreciated. There will be a part 2, so If anyone would like to be on a tag list for this specific fic or general fics in the future, just send me a message. Anyways, on with the fic! 

Description: Reggie wears a new outfit and the reader gets a little flustered and carried away.

Tags: F/M, Bisexual female reader 

I’m going to kill Julie. 

I came to this decision while we were finishing our last song of the night. Now don’t get me wrong, I love Julie with all my heart. She's an amazing friend, but all I can think about now is how I’m going to kill her. I know she didn’t do it on purpose or have any ill intent, but I’m about to have a stroke, and it’s her fault.

She and Reggie had disappeared earlier in the afternoon, and I hadn't seen either of them until we got on stage, but as soon as I saw them, my heart stopped beating. Julie and Reggie must have decided he needed an outfit change, I’d never tell him, but I thought he looked amazing in what he wore, whatever he wore, though this might have been too extreme of a change for my poor little heart. 

When I first appeared on stage, everything was normal. My guitar was in my hands, and I was ready to play. I was stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of Reggie. He was wearing a red and black plaid skirt that cut off mid-thigh and his signature leather jacket. I even missed the first couple notes of the song, making the boys look over at me with concern on their faces. I shrugged it off and tried to keep my eyes on the left side of the audience but it was a struggle not to look at him. I was finally beginning to cool down and loosen up when, oh no, Reggie started to make his over to my side of the stage. We stood back to back as we played together; my heart was doing backflips, and my pulse was racing with no signs of slowing down. 

Reggie went to his side of the stage once the song eventually ended. I let out a sigh of relief, only to immediately regret it. When he made it back to his side, he took off his leather jacket to reveal a black, sleeveless muscle tee. I pried my eyes from the current target of my spiralling thoughts, knowing that if I let myself stare any longer, I wouldn’t be able to hold my tongue, or my lips for that matter. “Get it together,” I said to myself a little too loudly. Alex looked over at me with confusion until he moved his gaze over to Reggie and back to me when the smuggest smirk appeared. I had a feeling that we would be talking about that later. I don’t know what supernatural force decided that I deserve to be punished like this. I never did anything too bad while I was alive. Sure I told my fair share of lies and maybe I did some less than angel-like behaviour, but nothing bad enough that would ever make me deserving of this toture. I'm pretty sure that when I died, I went to hell. I went to Hell, and watching Reggie in his current outfit was to be my punishment for eternity. And as torturous as this was, the worst part is that I can’t touch him and that I never would be able to. He’s too involved in my life for me to risk telling him about my feelings and them being unreciprocated. He’s helped me through thick and thin and has always been there to help me in my time of need. I would never be able to live with myself (while I guess I didn’t since I was dead) if I ever ruined the relationship I had with him and the band. 

We played the rest of the set with minimal errors from me. Thankfully the knowledge of my feelings towards Reggie was kept just to Alex, though Julie gave me a look every so often that made me feel like she knew exactly what was happening. ‘We’re almost done’ was the mantra I had been repeating to myself the whole night, then we finally were almost done. I grabbed a drink of water in passing as we moved onto our last song of the night, ‘Edge of Great’.

As we played through the song, Reggie made his way to me again, but instead of going back to back like he normally did, he brought his face close to my mic to sing with me. He was close enough that I could practically taste his cologne on my tongue, thick and suffocating, but sweet all the same. The smell of cinnamon burned my nose, but I liked it. As one of the stage lights fell on us his pupils dilated, and I tried to take in every detail of his face that I could. It reminded me that this moment was real and that I’d always have this memory. I marvelled at the fact that I was still able to stand up straight because of how intensely my legs shook beneath me. I felt light-headed, almost to the point that I thought I would pass out. I chalked it all up to adrenaline and the two red bulls I drank before the show. I started to get lost in my reckless thoughts. I thought of how good his lips might feel on mine. Would he bury his fingers in my hair or keep them on my waist? On that note, how would his hands feel? Would they still feel soft despite the calluses he definitely had from years of playing bass? Would he mark my neck with hickies, or would he just leave my lips bruised and swollen? Would his moan sound just as sweet as his singing, or would it be dark and heavy? I cursed myself for being so reckless with my imagination.

Can ghosts pass out? I didn’t get time to think about that cause he somehow moved even closer to the mic, subsequently closer to my face. I didn’t think it was possible for him to be any closer to me without touching me; he was so close that I could see all the little freckles splattered across his face. I would never tell him this but I loved the freckles on his nose; they somehow made him look cute and hot at the same time. One day, I would love to trace all of them with my finger, count and memorize the placements of each freckle. I could also see all the little flecks of colour in his eyes, cascading out into a kaleidoscope of blue and green that made me weak in the knees. I, for the life of me, could never figure out what exact colour his eyes were. I’d contemplate if they were blue with a green overlay or vice versa, or maybe one flat colour with an undertone, but his eyes would always shift with the light, so I could never be sure. I would be content if the rest of my life (or afterlife I guess) was just dedicated to figuring out what colour his eyes were. We were on the last couple lines of the song, and I was still just staring at him, anchored to his eyes, eye contact unbreaking as if my life depended on it, which it kind of felt like my life did depend on it. I finished the last note of the song, and my eyes stayed glued to his for a minute before leaving to look at that crowd. I think the reason I stopped looking at him was because deep down I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from kissing him if we kept staring at each other with this intensity .

We all quickly bowed to the crowd before we disappeared, earning a gasp of shock from the audience before they resumed clapping. We poofed into the side alley on the side of the building. 

“We were amazing, guys!'' Reggie exclaimed and we all laughed at his excitement.

“How should we celebrate?” Alex questioned. 

“We could go to that club a few blocks down, I heard it’s pretty cool,” Luke suggested, causing me to pale at that idea, don’t get me wrong I loved clubs and dancing but the last thing I wanted to do was watch Reggie drool over other girls. 

“I think I’m going to head home guys. I’m tired and I don’t think I could do any more walking or even standing up,” I said. 

“Are you sure? That’ll mean you don’t get to dance with me, the master of dance.” Alex jokingly nudged me in the ribs, but I could pick out a concerned lilt to his voice.

“Yeah, I’m exhausted. I’ll miss dancing with you so I’ll make an IOU.” I responded. The boys began to walk down the street as Alex told them that he’d catch up to them in a second. He turned to me and accusingly said “I know”. 

“Know what?” I tried to play dumb but he saw right through it. 

“Your crush on Reggie, obviously.” Alex placed a firm hand on his hip, tilting his head in a manner that told me he’d known long enough to have grown exasperated.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yeah, I’m surprised I didn’t notice it earlier. I’m more surprised that only Julie seemed to catch on, Luke and Reggie really are oblivious.” We shared a giggle at that, and then I took a breath to collect myself before responding.

“You can’t tell anyone, Alex. I don’t want to ruin my friendship with him.”

“I won’t, but they can only be so oblivious for so long,” Alex said, and deep down, I knew there was truth to his words. “Especially if you keep looking at him like that.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? It’ll be fun, plus I’ll miss your company,” he reiterated for the third time, and I decided that this time I would tell him the truth.

“Yeah no, I’d rather not be forced to watch Reggie flirt and dance with all those other girls, even if they can’t see him it still hurts to watch.”

Alex's face contorted to one of pity before he gave me a hug, lingering as he spoke softly. “Ok, I’ll see you when we get home.” Alex then turned, jogging to catch up with the boys.

Ughh, what was I going to do.

Tag list:

@unihedgehog22

[evansfm]

she’d forgotten just how much she LOVED it : the deafening sound of a crowd to her right and a live band to her left . everything fell away the moment the house lights went dark and the stage lit up ; her view of the world was distorted through a camera lens , and her trigger finger was fast on the shutter button . she’d been told before , time and time again , that photography was something ANYONE could do . . . point , shoot , move on to the next . but years of experience taught her it was more than that . to be the best behind a camera , you had to know PEOPLE . . . you had to recognize minute moments of pure , unfiltered human emotion and grab them before they disappeared forever . and evan was the BEST with a camera in hand , something she was still trying to convince herself of . 

self - doubt was buried deep when she was in the moment , though , focused on her surroundings . live music was the closest thing humanity had to MAGIC , she thought , the way it could bring strangers together in intimacy . . . the way it could make you feel like you were floating if only for a couple of hours . she did her best to translate that into her photographs , but the artists she worked with always made it EASY . they loved their work as much as the fans in the crowd did , and it was evident in the way she watched every musician she’d had the pleasure of working with pour everything into every performance . saint valentine was no different , no matter how BIG they’d gotten over the past several years . 

and they were big . the o2 was the biggest venue evan had ever shot in , and though she’d been the only one backstage , it seemed she wasn’t the only one in the pit , trying to get that coveted money shot of nicky haven at the mic . he was notoriously UNFRIENDLY with cameras , never a fan of being in front of them or having them in his face while performing . it was precisely why evan arrived early that day , camera bag zipped up and tucked away . for the first few hours , she just hung out with the four of them , getting to know them and letting them get to know her . by the time they reconvened in a side room set up with evan’s photo gear , she knew to have nicky’s younger brother –– a roadie that tagged along on all of their tours –– nearby . she knew that their drummer –– with her long , black hair and dazzling smile –– was the only one who could get a laugh out of him . that he was a bit sweet on her . she knew that he looked at his band like family and that he hardly trusted anyone else . 

so she cleared the room . 

it was like that with all four of them ; she’d spent the morning getting to know them , the afternoon shooting what she now knew to be the cover for their next single , and the evening doing what she knew best . she carved out a space for herself in their lives , if only for the night , and made it so hardly anybody noticed when she lifted the camera to her eyes . backstage , then on stage , then in the crowd . photographing live music like riding a bike , because she never forgot how to do it , and she’d only gotten better as time went on . . . evident in the way they’d CHOSEN her to document their first ever sold out arena .

it was unlike anything she’d ever experienced from a creative point of view . occasionally she’d find herself at shows this big , mostly when she was younger –– beck had always been a big fan of mumford & sons , something evan still quietly carried with her . but back then she was one of thousands , a face in the crowd that kept watch on her brother , rarely so unabashedly joyful . being there on the job , though , was completely different . . . having the means to wander where she pleased , slipping effortlessly through an electric crowd , shooting from the shadows of a stage bigger than she imagined . it reminded her of why she picked up a camera in the first place , pausing magic moments in time and turning them into tangible things to be kept forever . 

even more , though , it put her world –– her life in london –– into perspective . moving through concrete halls of the arena as it emptied , making her way backstage , she flipped through some of the raw images she’d gotten in the last couple of hours . her feet felt light , and her stomach was alight with fluttering from excitement . this was what she was BEST at . this was what made her heart feel full . the thought of her desk back at nme , the all-staff meetings and assignments with restrictions or specifications . . . it looked a lot more like what she was SUPPOSED to want . it was logical , working with the safety net of a publication . it felt like a step backwards , a step towards the life she was building in galway , before everything wonderful about manchester happened . 

“ admit it , ” evan peeked up from her camera screen –– beaming –– to see all four members of saint valentine as they lingered outside of the packed green room . nicky had his arm flung around his younger brother , and a crooked smile pasted on his lips , “ that was unlike anything you’ve ever seen before , right ? ”

“ consider me minorly impressed , ” evan said , tucking her dslr back into her bag . her hands instinctively cradled the film camera around her neck .

“ more like majorly . ”

“ are all american musicians t’is sure of themselves ? ”

“ no , ” lindsey , their lead guitarist named after fleetwood mac’s very own –– and certainly living up to it –– ruffled his shaggy hair with a towel , “ nicholas here just has a massive ego to compensate for other shortcomings . ”

an unintelligible grumble sounded from the taller boy , lost in the scuffle of nicky trapping him in a headlock and dragging them into the green room . spencer , their bassist , now back in his wire-framed glasses groaned and followed the both of them , uttering weak words of protest . only izzy hung back , beautiful black hair damp from a hard night’s work and finally pulled back into a long ponytail . evan wondered a few times how she managed to keep her vision clear on stage . she flashed a dazzling smile after the three of them , then turned back to evan .

“ dudes , am i right ? ”

evan’s gaze shifted from her to trail after the three of them , jostling each other about as people began to swarm for congratulations . despite the lightness in her chest , there was something small missing . . . an ounce of longing gripping at her stomach –– she missed all four of them .

“ absolutely ridiculous , ” she laughed before her gaze shifted back to izzy , “ you , miss , could out-drum just about ANY of t’e musicians i’ve worked wit’ . absolutely killer . ”

“ don’t flirt with me when i have no chance , connely , ” deep brown eyes sparkled in jest as she added , “ i know kiv o’niell’s got first dibs . ” shared laughter filled the hallway , “ you coming in ? we’d love to have you . ”

“ um , ” evan turned once more , peering into a hectic , happy room . a smile settled on her lips , “ i’ve actually got plans , but tomorrow ! i’ll stick around after tomorrow . ”

izzy studied her for a moment , giving a slow nod and an understanding smile , “ he’s in boston , right ? ”

“ not yet , ” evan sighed , not bothering to ask how she knew . she was sure she’d slipped it into conversation at some point that day , “ toronto . t’ey play boston in a couple days . reckon i can catch him in between press rounds if i time it right . ”

“ well , go on . we’ll see you tomorrow . bring that magical little machine with you , too . ”

“ you got it , ” evan lifted two fingers to her temple in a small salute , not needing to be told twice . her feet were moving before she’d even finished .

maybe it was the confetti fluttering about in her stomach . maybe it was the realization that perhaps nme wasn’t the dream she thought it was . maybe it was the sight of three boys jostling each other around after a good show . her only instinct , her only real thought , was to call kieran . to tell him all about how she’d gotten an infamous trouble maker to open up , how her photographs would be used as cover art for a stand alone single , how nothing quite compared to being in the thick of a live show . . . and how 20,000 people with a band she didn’t truly know couldn’t hold a candle to THE FOUND in berlin . . . let alone the found later in their career . it could’ve been the endorphins , the adrenaline , but evan felt certain in what otherwise seemed like a whim : being confined to a desk wasn’t it for her . she didn’t know what came next . . . leaving nme or locking down her own studio or heading out on tour with another band , but she knew she wanted to tell him . she was happier than she’d been in WEEKS , and the only missing piece was kieran .

even if things hadn’t been picture perfect with them lately . distance was easy when they were just an easy drive away from each other , but with an ocean , a tour , and ever changing time zones working against them things had been . . .  more difficult than what they were used to . evan tried to chalk it up to overthinking when she felt a hollowness in her chest after he missed a call . . . or worse , after her mentions flooded with a girl she wanted nothing to do with . she’d been familiar with the nastier side of the internet for a long time , if only because of her proximity to four boys rising to fame , but after she and kieran made it clear to EVERYONE that they were far more than friends , things had only gotten worse . it was easy to ignore before bex . easier to brush away as though it were nothing but a nameless , faceless few who put their opinion where it didn’t belong . but now , with evan in london and kieran ( and bex ) in the states . . . things were BRUTAL . especially as more and more usernames tied to the found’s opening act wandered into her tags or her mentions . she’d kept it to herself , for the most part , knowing that he couldn’t really do anything to change it . . . but it wasn’t like bex , herself , was helping . she couldn’t help the occasional curiosity that came when she couldn’t sleep , only to find a clip from bex’s story , fawning over kieran the way she had shamelessly back in manchester as evan was standing right there . 

she learned quickly to monitor her time on social media ; these days she mostly only used it when work required it of her . the last thing she needed was an array of new tagged posts on instagram , all having nothing to do with her and everything to do with her boyfriend . she’d known for some time about the rumors , and since stumbling across them she’d tried her best to tune them out . it did nothing to soothe the things she’d been actively working to unlearn over the last several months . the things her father , who left his entire family for another one , left behind . the things a boy , who she’d thought would be her first love despite his constant need to make her feel inadequate , left behind . kieran walsh was everything those men could never be . . . but it was easy to let the mind run wild when he was thousands of miles away .

even with the recent distance –– with the missed calls and miscommunications –– she still ached with missing him . she still wanted nothing more than to tell him about the night she’d just had , the one he’d been SO SURE would go well . she wanted to tell him that he was right . . . and that maybe she’d leave her desk behind to start something new . so she moved quickly from the empty bowels of the arena to the crowded lobby areas , smiling at but aptly dodging anyone who recognized her by CHANCE , kieran walsh’s girlfriend . she poured out into the parking lot with the rest of them , and only when she was exhaling as she flopped into the driver’s seat of her car did she pull out her phone . 

‘ hey , checking in with you babes . are you alright ? do you need me to come over ? ’ isla’s message sat at the top of a mountain of notifications , every single one from her work email address . . . and her personal .

‘ COMMENT REQUESTED ’

evan’s brow furrowed as she typed back to isla : ‘ great actually ???? why ’

but the answer to that question was tucked away in the emails flooding her inboxes . over a dozen emails from over a dozen different publications were reaching out , hoping for her thoughts on an article linked at the very end of each .

she’d been walking a tightrope over the past few weeks , balancing in the breezes that tried to sway her off center . work . distance . arguments . rumors . however all of it was stuff she could handle , for the most part . . . this , though , was like someone took a pair of scissors and snipped the rope as she was standing in the center of it .

‘ ‘I DON’T KISS AND TELL : Bex & The Found’s Kieran Walsh Confirm Rumors are True ’

it was nothing she hadn’t seen before .

" Rumors have circulated all over the internet throughout The Found’s wildly successful North American tour, and for weeks all we’ve gotten were vague answers from Bex and silence from Kieran . This past Saturday , however , it seems the pair –– speculated to be growing intimately closer over the course of tour thanks to Bex’s ever present social media presence –– finally decided to make it known outside of their inner circle . . . those rumors may not have been rumors after all . Summer in Toronto is warm , but these two were hot (and heavy?) outside of Everleigh . . . ”

and then her vision began to blur as a photograph came into view . she blinked , turned up the brightness on her phone , and held it closer as she stared and searched for some sort of flaw in the composition . . . a tell tale sign of photoshop , a detail that proved it only LOOKED like them , but wasn’t . . . 

but she found nothing . only bex and kieran swept up in each other’s arms in an intimate looking moment , a moment no one was meant to see . the telephoto lens caught her smile perfectly , beautiful as ever as hooded eyes looked over at kieran . what’s worse was . . . it looked like he was smiling too . wrapped up in each other the first photo , walking away from the club’s exit together in the second . 

nausea began to settle in as she stared , unable to read any other part of the article surrounding the photographs . things began to fall into place , one by one . the way she’d picked up the phone –– maybe she truly didn’t remember evan , because maybe evan didn’t exist at all in the states –– , the copious number of videos and photos evan had been tagged in but never got around to seeing , the secret keeping , the missed call . THE MISSED CALL . it was that night . . . when time got away from him and he texted instead of calling . she hadn’t understood then , but she had a hunch now that maybe . . . maybe it was because bex was there , laying on the side of the bed that should’ve been HERS .

her chest began to rise and fall in rapid breaths , every cautionary tale and lived experience flooding her lungs at once . everything from the past few weeks toppled over onto her chest because she’d been RIGHT to worry about bex . she’d been right to feel like the place she left in the boys’ lives was being filled with a girl who had eyes for kieran . she was right to tell kieran to be CAREFUL with that one . . . because it wasn’t insecurity , and it wasn’t being a JEALOUS  girlfriend . it was instinct , and her gut feeling was never wrong . 

or maybe it had been , when it told her it was SAFE to allow herself to believe that love stories didn’t have to turn into tragedies . . . that not every man would hurt her the way declan had or leave her as her father did –– trading her in for a newer , more expensive model . 

but kieran , with his arms wrapped around bex and a smile on his lips , had done BOTH . . . and hadn’t even had the decency to tell her before telling the world . 

am i worth so little ? she thought , am i so easily replaced ? so easily unloved ? how could i be so stupid . . . so naive ?  

her phone screen was a blur without definition , clear droplets hitting the glass like the beginnings of a slow summer rain . her clothes suddenly felt too tight , frantic breathing ripping at the seams of her shirt . her stomach lurched and turned and somersaulted , unsteady and queasy and . . . 

she shoved her door open , slipping out of her car and kneeling just on the other side of it . tucking her hair behind her ears , grasping curls in a ponytail behind her neck , she threw up on the pavement of the parking lot . it brought no relief , though . in fact , her cheeks were still stained with tears . her chest was still heaving with labored breath . her head was still racing . . .

when did it start ? did he put up a front at first or did he immediately find himself in need of a distraction . . . one that was close in proximity and ready and willing . why wouldn’t he just BREAK UP with me ? being dumped would’ve been easier . 

was he bored with her ?

was he in need of someone smarter ? someone prettier ? someone more accessible ? someone who knew the life of a musician far more than she could ever understand ?  

she stood , wiping her mouth with the back of her hand . 

maybe it was a misunderstanding . . . a doctored photo . . . 

the parking lot was nearly empty . . . how long had she been like that ? motionless in her car as tears puddled over the article until she had no choice but to move . . .

evan’s lashes fluttered , blinking away tears as they came ; she had no idea when her hands had begun to shake , but they trembled as she pulled up her recent calls . his name sat there near the top of the list . . . maybe if she called , he’d tell her it was a fake . a rumor . a mistake . or maybe bex would pick up again , still wrapped in his bedsheets in the midst of an afternoon off of press . her thumb hovered over his name .

kieran had WATCHED her change for a boy who didn’t love her . he’d seen the aftermath of a broken heart . he’d witnessed the hurt she felt when it came to her father , the anger . and yet there he was , crystal clear in a photograph breaking her heart for the world to see . 

kieran , who swore he loved her . who swore she had nothing to worry about . who swore that she was just a jealous girlfriend the first time evan brought up her discomfort with bex . who swore he’d come home to her . 

it was worse than declan , because she hadn’t loved him this much .

it was worse than her father , because she’d never really promised to stay .

her thumb tapped the screen and she brought the phone to her ear ; the shrill ring came three times before anyone picked up .

“ evan ? ”

“ mam , ” she huffed , voice cracking as silent , angry tears finally broke into a choked sob , “ can you –– . . . could you –– . . . i t’ink i –– ” 

“ evie , my sweet girl , take a breath , ” her voice was sharper now . evan imagined her sitting upright in bed , spine straightened with worry , “ tell me what’s going on . ”

“ he –– . . . kieran –– ”

“ is he OKAY ? ”

“ YES , ” she shook out her free hand , slight frustration creeping in and only fueling the tears , “ yes he’s . . . i mean he looks . . . i t’ink maybe he’s ch-chea– ” she couldn’t even get the word out ; she was going to be sick all over again . 

“ oh , evan –– ”

“ could you just –– could you PLEASE come to london ? ”

there was a pause , agonizingly long . 

“ i can be t’ere tomorrow . ”

[lutrain2020]

Meet the Creator!

Introducing: Squido!

Commission:  I haven't and don't really intend to. I don't want to take anyone's hard-earned money. Just ask me to draw things and there's a good chance I will.

Social Media:  Tumblr: @sky-squido​ AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_squido/pseuds/sky_squido

Tell us a little bit about yourself!

Call me Squido! I love to draw and write but I'm also super extraverted and I love interacting with humans so always feel free to chat with me! Aside from drawing and writing, I just love being outside and have a tumblr sideblog dedicated exclusively to nature photos I take. I love mountains, the ocean, the sky, and just about everything else in this beautiful world of ours! If you ever feel like having an internet stranger give you a thousand word rant, ask me why my favorite color is blue and you will not be disappointed!

What got you into creating? what inspires you to keep creating?

I've been drawing for as long as I can remember and can't seem to stop, though I take long breaks sometimes I always seem to come back to it again. I try not to have anything in mind when I draw, but to start sketching and let the drawing happen. Sometimes I find that what I'm trying to draw is not what my drawing wants to be (if that makes any sense) and change what I'm making halfway through. It makes drawing a really relaxing and carefree therapeutic experience! Writing is different. I've always enjoyed writing, but I didn't write much and never shared my writing with anyone because I thought it was super pretentious. It wasn't until entering High School and joining the literature club and making a deal with a friend that we'd share our writing with each other that I actually gained any sort of confidence in my ability and sought to improve it. Being in that club and sharing my pieces at the open mics was a really encouraging experience! I invite everyone to share their writing, even if it's with some random internet stranger (I'm open anytime!) if they're unsure of their abilities. A little encouragement goes a long way! Now that I'm on Discord, ao3, and tumblr, I receive so much more feedback than I ever have before! It's been super encouraging! What inspires me most is definitely nature. Even if my ideas aren't directly related to the outdoors, I get my best ideas there. Fandoms are also a great idea generator. The sheer volume of headcanons and prompts is enough to make me dizzy with ideas!

What's your creative process like?

I love sketching. My favorite thing about drawing digitally is that I can sketch as much as I like and never worry about wasting materials! Often times my sketches turn themselves into drawings without permission and other times they stubbornly remain sketches for all eternity. I always dive right in because I have no patience and the idea I started out with generally isn't that great but in the process of pursuing it, it spirals out of control and sometimes the idea gets better and sometimes it gets worse but I just kinda roll with it. Creating is a really chill process for me and while I regularly scream stuff like "I'M DRAWING ON THE WRONG LAYER NONONONONONO" or "NO HECK FRICK SHOOT IT SMUDGED HECK HECK GET THE ERASER QUICK," the creative process is a great way for me to unwind. I'm the same way about writing. I never plan or outline and just kind of roll with things. I mean I generally have the basic jist in mind, but I try to not have a plan so I can keep the story driven by the characters and not force them into acting the way I wanted them to in the outline I made hours or even days ago. Creating is my opportunity to break free so I don't really see what good a plan or outline does me. I'm a pretty spontaneous person!

What kind of mediums do you like to use?

I like to take pictures, but it's not really my main focus. I've been mostly digitally drawing—I use my iPad Pro and Procreate—but lately I've been pencil sketching with just your average everyday mechanical pencil (I'd forgotten how nice the texture of paper was! Clearly I spent too much time drawing on my iPad!). I have these Stabilio chalk pastels I love to pieces, but have also spent a great deal of time with watercolors. Digital is my primary medium currently, though.

Is there a specific scene wrote that you are particularly proud of?

"Sky’s golden scales are glowing with reflected light from the sun while beneath them, the same pulsing blue in her mane runs like a river as her very skin is alive with electricity. The sun’s beginning to dip, fading through the color wheel from yellow to deep orange to scarlet and the world is bathed in watercolor and hue shifted through the rainbow until all that was blue becomes red. This new alien world begins to darken as red fades to deep purple-pink, the clouds catching last vestiges of gold in their pillowy folds, yet Sky continues rippling with lighting, the bright blue flowing like blood through her veins and the gold shimmering in the eerie azure glow. We weave through the winds and zephyrs and I close my eyes and let the breeze caress my hair and when I reopen them, I’m standing back on the ground again in a world long since darkened by night. I place my hand over my beating heart where Sky is still laughing with joy and smile because once you’ve awakened your dragon, you don’t need wings to fly anymore."

Is there someone who inspires you and your writing or art?

Every fanartist and fanfic writer that posts their stuff online is an inspiration to me. Even if their stuff isn't very good—especially if it isn't very good—it's a huge testament to the courage of the creator and their bravery in expressing themself! I sat on fanfic and fanart for years and never shared it and here were kids half my age putting out art that was their first experiment in a new medium and a little shaky but it was still out there and they were still being supported by the community and that really inspired me to reach out and stop lurking in fandom and actually get involved!

is there something that you struggled with that made you grow as a creator?

I feel like everyone has these periods where they were just gaining confidence in their artistic ability but suddenly everything they make is trash and they're not happy with any of it and they feel so down and worthless and "where did all of my hard-earned ability go? Will I ever get it back?" I think this is a pretty common experience and when I find myself there, I find it most helpful to share what I make anyway, even if I hate it, with someone who I know will give it to me straight because they'll point out the deeper problems—the root of the issue—that I hadn't even noticed and I can use that information to grow as an artist. Bad pieces are just as valuable as good ones. There was also a time where I had a lot of trouble developing a style. I did a lot of experimenting and never found anything I liked. What happened is I just kept drawing and whatever popped out eventually evolved into my style. I used to get frustrated that I couldn't draw anything without a reference, but after years and years of using references and drawing some of the same things over and over again, you won't need the references anymore. I mean, they're great and you should always feel free to use them, but over time, you won't need to look up a picture of every little thing you try to doodle.

What got you into writing or art?

My silly twitchy fingers can't ever seem to stop drawing! Same with writing. Words and ideas follow me around, little plot bunnies pestering me until they get written down somewhere. I was greatly inspired by the works of C.S. Lewis in my writing, especially his Cosmic Trilogy. My art style was aided by Hiromu Arakawa's Fullmetal Alchemist, which was a valuable stepping stone in developing my own style. Other than that, it was my own insatiable desire to MAKE THINGS that spurred me onwards. I don't think I could stop if I tried!

What's your favorite part of the creative process?

After you've got that first paragraph and you've found a flow and you've got a topic and you just GO. I get into the zone and the story starts happening on its own and I'm not an author anymore, I'm just a channel between the world of the piece and the page. That's my favorite. I love watching things take shape. I love shading a sketch for these same reasons. The whole drawing comes together and becomes A Thing and it's the most exciting time to be a creator. Something else inside you has taken over and you're just along for the ride. I have no idea if my experiences are common at all but this is what it's like for me!

What's your least favorite part of the creative process?

EDITING. I HAVE ZERO PATIENCE. THE THING IS DONE. WHY DO I HAVE TO KEEP LOOKING AT IT. CAN I POST IT YET. This leaves me with a lot of holes in what I make and I can't do a very clean, super detailed drawing unless it's for an art class and I'm forced to keep working on it. I have a terrible habit of never proofreading my things!

What's your favorite type of scene to write?

AAH hard question! I love writing description and places where I can really let my inner 19th century romantic be unleashed but I also love a good emotional moment between two characters. Something tense. I like fight scenes, but I try to keep them brief and interesting. Sometimes I find scenes where I have no idea what's going on and I try to avoid that, but it's really hard sometimes.

What's the hardest for you to create?

I have so much trouble with endings. I can generally figure something out, but there's always a moment of panic before the end like "heck I wrote everything I wanted how do I wrap this up????" That's probably a byproduct of me planning nothing XD I sometimes have trouble with characterization and making sure everyone acts the way they actually would. The hardest part is continuing after you have an "oh heck what do I do now" moment that breaks you out of your zone and all of your ideas and plot threads turn invisible or evaporate or go wherever it is they go when you're looking for them.

What's your favorite genre to write?

ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST. Wellll... scratch that. I love something adventure-y and plot driven with a lot of really meaningful character interactions. I've always had trouble putting my writing into genres, but I guess that kind of speaks for itself in a way.

What fandoms do you enjoy creating for?

Linked Universe is the fandom I have created and posted the most for by a LONG SHOT. I found LU shortly after making my tumblr and I joined the Discord shortly thereafter. Since then, it has been nonstop inspiration and creativity for me! I tend to get sucked into one fandom and it consumes me for a few months before I silently drift out of it and never think about it again. LU is the fandom I've been the most active in EVER though—and it's still going—so there's a good chance I'm never getting off this ride.

What's the work you are most proud of?

AAAAAAAAAAH MY BABIES. okay um here's the first and only fanfic I've ever posted anywhere but I'm really happy with: https://sky-squido.tumblr.com/post/618964544219463680/turn-back-time-a-linked-universe-fanfic I have a lot of other pieces kicking about, but they're not fandom so I haven't shared them yet. I probably will after I touch them up a bit.

Do you have any fics inspired by real life stories?

Not really? I don't really know where my ideas come from to be honest!

Where do you post your finished works?

my tumblr. I tag stuff #squido writes and #squido draws so you can find them easily. I also put them on the discord but they get lost in the stream of other works pretty quickly so stick to my tumblr. I also have an ao3 now! https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_squido

If you have any fun stories about the pieces you made, please do share!

Turn Back Time was actually live written in the Discord, but entirely unplanned and in the #angst channel! It was just a headcanon but then I started describing it and like 2 hours and 5k words later I'm sitting in the Discord like "what just happened??"

[worm-writes]

Hero Classes get all the fun. 

“Class, as you know, the sports festival is coming up soon,” Several groans echoed throughout  the support room, “and while this may not benefit us, we still need to participate.” Powerloader sighed as he wrote today's material harshly on the main board. Thanks to a certain student, each student had a miniboard to write on so the main board was just used for lists of material of the day now. 

UA was known for having it’s sports festival to show off all the uprising hero students and to get them internships with heroes, which is a bit annoying when it comes to the other classes as it didn't help them in any way. He looked around with a frown, the sports festival always interrupted the students' invention time as they always ended up getting requests for their hero work. But as he scanned their faces, a single look from one of his most devastating students said otherwise. He paused writing midword, put the chalk down, and walked out the room, Powerloader will deal with the chaos after it happens.

Izuku smirked from on top of his desk, following Powerloader with his eyes as he left the room, oh this’ll be so much fun now that he got his silent go ahead. He pushed the miniboard he was pretending to write on aside. Well, since Powerloader DID give him permission, albeit him leaving the room, he may as well present to the class. Dodging charpel from an explosion, Izuku made himself to the front and quickly erased Powerloaders half written material plans. In its place, he wrote, ‘How to have fun when everyone else doesn't care.’ The students who were milling about as they usually do, complaining, deeply invested in their creations, talking to each other and sharing ideas, everyone seemed a bit frustrated with the news and were dealing with it their own way. Izuku clapped loudly, gaining everyone's attention.

“Since Powerloader has bailed, I have a plan to make the sports festival just remotely interesting this year.” He grinned manically, everyone joining in as enthusiastically as they possibly can. Who said the sports festival needed to be just about hero students? Everyone thought at the same time, all on the same wavelength.

“Hey, don't forget us too!” Hitoshi peeked in and winked at Izuku, the rest of the door opened to reveal a large group of kids form both from general studies and management. The three classes were always benefiting from each other's business, whether it was information or equipment. He quirked an eyebrow at them, and crossed his arms, if they want in on the plan they need to pay. The group smiled brightly as before something was pushed up to the front. A large rectangular package was thrown at his feet by Hitoshi. Smart, Hitoshi was the one person he would most definitely deal with. A stray classmate came up and opened it, looked in a bit, then nodded at him. A large smile broke out on his face and the group sighed in relief. 

From the school, in the teachers lounge, a shiver ran across them as they all heard the Principle crackle with delight.

“Hey! Has anyone seen Mineta?” Denki called out as the class left the waiting room, no one responded to him as the roar of the stadium drowned out any other noise around them. To be honest, even if they did respond, no one really cared where the grape flirt went in the first place. Midnight stood on a tall stage and was whipping at the floor with a smile. They vaguely heard the other classes get called out and looked around to see them. 

“Are they allowed to do that?” Iida called out as the rest of the students met up with the promising heroes.The promised heroes were skeptical when they saw the rest of their student body in their own clothes, mostly leather, and not in their gym uniforms like they were. The teachers heard that Nedzu had approved of multiple things for this year's participants so they wouldn’t know either at this point when they were given a large pamphlet of approved items and it was apparent that Midnight had not read it, not that she needed to. Towards the middle of the group, Izuku smirked, the only rules were that the heroe students were not allowed to be in hero costumes, nothing said anything about the rest of the student body.

“I pledge to win.” Class 1-A and B screamed at Bakugou and his provoking speech as Midnight carried on, stumbling over her words as she explained rules. Mic joked about the speech over the announcement. No one really noticed as the other classes seemed to kick back and watch it all happen. They were all just hanging out with each other, from small groups sitting/laying on the floor, to playing tag. As Midnight called out the event, the hero students prepared to run, not noticing that they were the only one who seemed even remotely ready. Midnight whipped the floor and called out ’go’, having the heroes students shot forward into the slightly small space.

“WOAH! AND THE HERO STUDENTS ARE OFF! BUT WHAT IS THIS!? ALL THE OTHER CLASSES SEEM TO JUST BE STANDING AROUND DOING NOTHING!” Present Mic narrated, just then Todoroki sent a wave of ice through the entrance of the passage of the obstacle course. Near the center of the group, Izuku smiled up at Hitoshi, his head laying in his lap as he played with his hair. He wanted to lay there for a bit longer but, you gotta do what you gotta do. He stood up, with a sigh, calling time as he helped the smiling boy up. They bumped their hips as they walked to the front with a small group of people behind them and spread out in front of the crowd. In sync, everyone pulled out a box from their pocket and tossed it in the air.

The boxes grew, morphing with shape into 4 wheeled first bikes. Screams erupted from the crowds as groups formed around each bike and climbed onto them. Hatsume crackled loudly from besided Izuku, no one climbed onto her bike as it popped loudly, little explosions coming from its comically large exhaust pipes and it looked obviously different from the rest as it was a lot more flashy with puffier wheels. On his other side, Hitoshi gave him a crazed smile.

“May the devilman win.” He called with a wink, and as the last people climbed on the bikes, engines were revved. Then at once, everyone shot forward, Hastume in the lead as her wheels crushed up the ice left by Todoroki. One by one each dirt bike shot out of the entrance, laughter echoing all around at the speed. 

As they reached the bots, two different dirt bikes went to the front, passing some hero kids, and passed a rope between them. The kids in the back of the bike, quickly tying it to the ends, and the bikes broke apart, going to the farthest ends of the path, making the line become taught from tension. As they sped past, the bots, which were frozen due to Todoroki, shattered on impact from rope, sending the debris everywhere. Some hero kids screamed as they were quickly left behind to dodge it, especially this one blond kid that Izuku drove by.

It wasn’t easy to get plans from Nedzu but as Izuku drifted out of the way of falling robot parts, he can't be helped but be reminded of the chess match the two shared between the two. It was risky and hard, Nagamine, one of his classmates, had followed along and almost passed from stress when Izuku didn’t win. Yet, with a grin and a deal, Nedzu happily handed over plans. His crackling haunts his dreams but as Izuku swerved out the way of debris, hands gripping harder around him as his classmates screamed and laughed madly, he couldn't help but think it was worth it.

As they reached the tightropes, a different classmate of his shot up to the front. They stood boldly on their bike, the passengers holding onto tightly as they pulled out a small machine, and leaned over, showing it onto the front of the bike. A white foam shot out of it as everyone neared them, and hardened upon hitting blank air, creating a small bridge under the bike as it rose into the air and across the clearing. Everyone whooped loudly as they followed, passing most of the hero students at this point. Izuku going second to last, Hatsume right behind him as her wheels broke the substance, not letting the heroes even try to join them. 

Everyone fell in line besides each other right before they reached the landmine field. All hitting a small button on the right side of the handles. Out spung smaller cubes from the sides of the dirt bikes, people on the back catching them before throwing them out again, only for them to morph into two wheeled dirt bikes. As their classmates all hopped onto their own individual bikes, it became a one for all. Everyone swirling and bumping into each other, trying to knock people over, setting off the bombs. Others sped up, dodging the landmines and going past Todorki and Bakugou, who were fighting in the front. 

This year, not a single Hero class was going to win, and as Izuku passed the two who were now rushing more to the front, he smiled again. Happy that everyone was having fun, it was his plan after all. As he crossed a line, hearing some stray number get called, he hopped off his bike, and cheered. Watching a few of his classmates joke and play with each other. Hitoshi came in right behind him, the smile on his face was bigger than what Izuku had ever seen. He hopped down from his bike and embraced Izuku, blabbering off about the race. Izuku's cheeks started to hurt as he realized he had as big of a smile. 

Yeah, this year is going to be good.

[bethagain]

Re-sharing some of my fics under the new Mandalorian genfic tag. Calling all other genfic writers to come share yours, too, under “#noromo mando.” We can love our reader inserts and OC romances and slash fics, but let’s show some love for non-shippy stuff too!

Probably all of my followers who wanted to read this one have done so, but here it is one more time, in case it makes someone else smile: The post-Chapter 16 Christmas Special. It's Life Day at Luke's Jedi school, and Din Djarin's come to spend the holiday with Grogu. Featuring laughter, cookies, family. Plus Luke and Din having a pretend lightsaber battle with cardboard wrapping paper tubes.

Can You Beat My Uncle in a Fight? (read it on AO3)

He still has to work. That makes his schedule unpredictable. 

Sometimes the work is for the New Republic. He’s not sure how he feels about that, yet. The rules haven’t changed: find them, bring them in. Alive if possible. Otherwise not. Din looks at the row of carbonite slabs in his new ship’s hold and thinks, Miggs Mayfeld. He kind of had a point.

The new ship isn’t bad. It’s good, actually. It’s got sleeping quarters that were built for sleeping. Amazing to wake up each morning without every muscle aching. Years back, he’d chalked that up to getting older. Accepted it as normal. 

He’d accepted a lot of things as normal. 

The ship’s on course now for Miriyan, where the jetii’s school sits in a clearing, surrounded by tall trees. He’s a day late, but it can’t be helped. Job ran long. He’d rather have let the quarry live, but sometimes things don’t go the way you want them to. 

The school is a nice place. Peaceful, if you don’t count kids sparring with pretend lightsabers in the open courtyard. That part makes it feel homey though, if you’re a Mandalorian. In fact, he’s been meaning to talk to Luke about that. Those kids could be much further along. Maybe he should offer to help.

He finds himself shaking his head, thinking about it. A jetii sorcerer trusting a Mandalorian? And vice versa? Ancient enemies, the Armorer said. But it turned out, when he brought it up, Luke barely knew anything about it either. 

“Yeah,” he said, “apparently that was a thing. Do you mind?”

And Din said, “No.” And that was that. 

In fact, the main reason he takes these New Republic jobs is because Luke recommends him. The young jetii’s heart seems to be in the right place, even if the work is sometimes iffy. Din can’t exactly explain why he trusts him. 

But if he weren’t running on instinct right now, he’d probably grind to a stop altogether.

Miriyan’s sky is golden with sunset as his ship touches down next to an X-wing, a couple of A-wings, and a freighter that looks like it’s seen better days. It’s a hike from the airfield to the school, but he knows the way. The forest rustles around him. Now and then a twig snaps or something scampers. Luke said Miriyan didn’t have any large predators, but Din still keeps a hand near his blaster. 

By the time he gets to the courtyard, the day has settled into evening. Light from the main building’s windows stands out, looking welcoming and warm against the blue of late twilight. 

Din knows by now that he doesn’t have to knock. He presses the catch on the simple wooden door and steps into the common room. He barely has the chance to take in the cheerful chaos--groups of people gathered in comfortable chairs and seated on the floor, colored lights strung about the rafters and a bright blaze in the large fireplace--before he’s surrounded by children clamoring, “He’s here, he’s here! Grogu he’s here!”

Grogu’s still only halfway across the floor, toddling on his little legs, so one of children runs back to get him. Din can’t follow without running down another child, so he waits for the boy to bring Grogu to him. The boy’s got a bright smile that looks a lot like Luke’s. The smile turns shy when he’s actually facing a tall, beskar-clad Mandalorian. 

Din kneels down to his level. He’s careful to say, “Thank you,” before lifting Grogu from the boy’s hold. The little arms immediately reach out for him, settling around his neck as the child snuggles his head into the space between his breastplate and chin. 

“I missed you too, kid.”

When he looks up again, the children are still gathered around, watching with rapt attention. “That’s the cutest thing ever,” one of the little girls breathes. Din’s grateful to see Luke on his way over. A jetii rescuing a Mandalorian might not exactly go with the Creed, but he’ll take it. 

“All right, all of you. There’s hot chocolate over by the fire. Get going! Scram!” Luke’s voice is kind, underlaid with a sense of laughter. The children giggle as they scatter.

“Job go ok?” Luke asks as Din straightens up, shifting Grogu to the crook of his arm. The child coos happily, looking from Luke to Din with big eyes and a bigger smile. 

“Well enough,” Din says. “I’m afraid you won’t need to have a trial.”

“Ah,” Luke says. “You ok about that?”

No one’s ever asked him that before. 

Finally Din shrugs one shoulder, and Luke nods. “Come sit with us. You’re a lot more interesting than that hot chocolate, the kids are going to be all over you again any minute. They’re a little more shy with my sister. Maybe we can buy you a bit of a reprieve.”

Din follows him across the large hall, weaving their way through groups of adults and children. Everyone’s got mugs of warm drinks and plates of snacks. Every now and then, as he passes, he hears an adult scolding a child: Shhh, don’t stare! 

The lights aren’t just decorating the rafters, they’re strung around the large windows, too. Boughs of some kind of fir tree decorate the walls. Must have been brought in from the forest. 

He has a vague idea that this is how people decorate their homes for Life Day. He’s never celebrated it. He’s never been invited to the home of someone who does. 

Grogu babbles happily on the way. Din has no idea what he’s saying. “Did you?” he asks when the child pauses for breath. “Yes? Really? That sounds fun.”

Luke leads him to a group of squishy chairs arranged in a corner. “My sister Leia,” he says, and a lovely young woman with intricately braided hair nods hello. 

“It’s so nice to meet you,” she says. “Luke says Grogu goes on about you non-stop.”

The boy who’d brought the child to him is sitting at Leia’s feet. Din looks over at Luke. “Your son?” he asks.

“My nephew. Ben. He belongs to Leia and Han.” 

Han is apparently the man slouched comfortably in the chair across from Leia, a tumbler of what looks like whisky in his hand. “Welcome,” he says. “Can I get you something? For a mystical sorcerer, Luke stocks a pretty good bar.”

“No, thank you.”

Han’s unfazed. “Luke wasn’t sure if you’d--” He waves in the direction of Din’s helmet. “Let me know if you change your mind, yeah?”

“I will.”

Luke’s pulling another chair over. He slides it into place next to Leia, then collapses into the empty chair on her other side, kicking his feet up onto the low table in front of them. Din settles into the chair, Grogu on his lap. The baby reaches for a plate of colorful cookies that Luke’s boots narrowly missed. “Those aren’t yours,” Din starts to say, but Ben immediately lifts the plate so the child can reach.

“Which one do you want?” Ben asks, as Grogu stares at the plate in delight. “You can have two if you want.”

The chair is comfortable. The room is warm. The chatter all around feels friendly. Grogu’s weight against him settles something in his mind, a part of his brain he hadn’t even realized had been on high alert for weeks. 

Luke seems to sense that he needs a minute. He’s chatting quietly with Leia and Han, something about Outer Rim settlements, until Ben finally throws up his hands and announces, “You’re all so boring!”

“Ben,” Leia starts to scold, although Din notices she’s hiding a smile. 

Han just grins outright at his son. “I guess we are. Too much talking. You have a better idea?”

Ben looks like he wants to say something, but he’s suddenly shy again. He sidles over to his father and whispers. 

“You better ask him,” Han says. “Go on, I’m pretty sure he’s not going to bite.”

Ben whispers again. Din, curious, taps the mic control on his helmet to turn up the sound. He catches the end of Ben’s question. “....beat Uncle Luke in a fight?”

It’s not polite to listen in like that, so Din waits until Ben, still standing close to his Dad, repeats the question. 

“I read about Mandalorians. You’re the best warriors in the galaxy. Could you beat my Uncle Luke in a fight?”

Luke bursts out laughing. “I don’t know,” he says to Din. “Could you?”

Ben’s waiting for an answer. Grogu’s bouncing on Din’s lap now, waving his hands and babbling again. It sounds pretty insistent. 

Luke answers Grogu seriously. “We could find out. I don’t know if your dad wants to, though.”

Something in Din’s brain short-circuits for a second at the phrase “your dad.” While he’s recovering, Luke and Ben are discussing options. 

“I don’t think a lightsaber fight would be a good idea, Ben. Do you?”

Ben looks around the busy room, at children chasing each other, at families laughing. “No. Someone might get hurt.”

“That reminds me,” Luke says. “You still have that Darksaber?”

“It’s back on the ship. More trouble than it’s worth to carry.”

“Have you learned how to use it?” Bo Katan asked that once, and the scorn in her voice was nearly as sharp as the laser blade. Luke sounds genuinely curious. 

“I’ve trained with swords,” Din says. “I can’t really practice with it on board. The ship’s not made of beskar.”

“Good point,” Luke says. “I destroyed more than a few pieces of furniture when I was learning.”

Ben’s not letting this go. “He knows how to use a sword,” he says to Luke. “I bet you’re really good at it,” he adds to Din. 

Din finds himself smiling behind his helmet. “I’m not too bad.”

Just then, tumult and shouts from across the room have Luke getting to his feet. Din slides his left arm protectively across Grogu’s middle as his other hand hovers by his blaster. But it’s just a bunch of kids play-fighting, and most of the noise turns out to be laughter. 

Somewhere the kids have found a bunch of cardboard tubes, and they’re cheerfully batting each other with them in a boisterous approximation of a lightsaber battle. It’s nothing like the carefully orchestrated sparring Din has seen on other visits here. This is a free-for-all. Kids are getting bonked on the head and whacked on the back, and they’re all laughing like mad the whole time. 

Luke’s family have abandoned their comfy chairs and come along to watch. 

Din’s with them, mystified by the whole thing until Leia explains. “They’re from the paper we use to decorate gifts. If you’d been here last night, you’d have gotten to see. We made a party out of getting everyone’s presents wrapped.”

Her tone is kind. Luke must have told her he’s not familiar with this whole Life Day thing. But Din’s having another moment: Gifts. He didn’t even think of gifts. 

“Don’t worry,” Leia says, apparently realizing. “We made sure there’s something for Grogu. The children wanted to wait until you got here to open presents, so we’re doing that later tonight. You’ll get to see.”

Why are these people being so nice to him? It must all be for Grogu. He’s grateful. “Thank you.”

While they’re talking, Ben grabs up a spare cardboard tube and dashes into the fray. He immediately gets bopped in the shoulder and spins around to hit the other kid on her backside. Leia smiles, Han starts cheering Ben on, and Luke--Luke’s got a maniacal sparkle in his eyes. 

Din watches, impressed, as Luke shifts into Jedi Master mode. His face goes solemn, his back is straighter, every movement suddenly more measured. He strides into the fray, the children’s own movements slowing as they watch him. They don’t seem afraid. It seems more like respect. 

Luke gently takes a cardboard tube from one of the older boys, who hands it over and steps back. The Jedi Master moves into a fighting stance, cardboard tube balanced in his hands and looking for all the world like a lightsaber--if it weren’t so completely absurd.

“All right, Mandalorian,” he says, and his tone’s filled with laughter and that solemn expression’s turned back to a grin. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

There’s no saying no. The kids are all cheering now. Even the parents are getting in on it. “Two credits on the Jedi Master,” one of the men calls out, and someone replies with, “My bet’s on the Mandalorian,” and Leia’s got her head in her hands but she’s laughing through her fingers. 

“Looks like you don’t get a choice,” Han says, offering to take the child. “Go on, wipe the floor with him.”

Ben holds out another cardboard tube. Din, half amused and half horrified by this whole thing, reaches out and takes it. 

It’s close. Din’s not sure if Luke’s holding back, but he sure isn’t. It’s only sparring, of course. He knows how to do that without hurting his opponent. Not that getting bopped with cardboard would do much harm anyway, but the goal is not to get hit. He’s breathing hard but he can still hear everyone cheering as he forces Luke back toward a corner, then has to duck and roll, narrowly avoiding the Jedi’s sudden counterattack. 

He should probably be embarrassed. This is about the furthest thing from dignified that he can imagine. Mandalorians train with real weapons, not these… they’re not even toys. They’re pretend things. 

This really should not be so much fun. 

The battle ends when Luke finally manages to land a blow. Din’s on his back on the floor, Luke leaning over him. He’s already got one boot against the jetii’s stomach, ready to throw him back across the room, when that cardboard tube sneaks in low and connects with a pauldron. In a real fight a hit against his armor would barely have registered. But this isn’t a real fight. 

Din concedes with grace, accepting Luke’s hand to pull him to his feet. 

All around them, credits are changing hands as the kids run up to surround them both. Din expects them to congratulate Luke, but mostly they want to talk to him. 

“How’d you do it?” 

“You almost beat him!”

“Can you teach us?”

“Master Luke, can he teach us?”

Luke’s brushing dust from his shirt and trousers, still grinning. “I don’t know, maybe. Let’s let him catch his breath, ok? We can ask him later.”

By the time they get to opening presents, Din’s exhausted. Watching the kids open their gifts is nice, but he’s content to sit back away from it all, Grogu snuggled on his lap again as the two of them let the party go on around them. Ben brings Grogu’s gift over. The child tears happily at the colorful paper, adding it to the cheerful litter of wrapping that’s now covering the floor. Inside the box is a plush toy in the shape of a bantha. Even the curled horns are made to be soft. 

“He told us about your adventure on Tatooine,” Ben explains, as Grogu examines the toy with delight. The child cuddles it to his chest for a moment, then holds it out to Din. 

“You want me to tell him?” Ben asks the child. Din realizes, startled, that Luke’s nephew must be jetii, too. Of course he is, though, why wouldn’t he be. Maybe Han and Leia are, too. 

“He says it needs a hug from you.”

Din accepts the little plush and speaks to Grogu as though he’ll understand. “How about if you both get a hug?”

Grogu chirps happily. 

Ben translates, “He says yes.”

Din gathers the child and the toy up together, gently wrapping his arms around them. Ben nods, and then there’s that smile that looks so much like Luke’s. 

“I’m glad your dad’s here, Grogu.” He pats the child’s head, flashes Din one more grin, and leaves them to have some time together. As a family? Din thinks, looking over Grogu’s head at parents and children looking at gifts, sharing cookies, and laughing together. 

As a family.

[hollowedpeacher]

There was a delightful breeze that came through the air as the Mayor admired the crowd of people coming together to celebrate his birthday. Although he knew it was the barbecue that drew the crowd, it didn't stop him from feeling pride in his town as he hopped on the stage to make a speech. The Mayor tapped the microphone getting the attention of the townspeople with a smile on his face until suddenly a screech came ringing out the speakers.

Everyone in the square reached for the ears, covering them as the sound rang out for a minute and filling the air. It was like nails on a chalk board, causing shivers up spins for forcing. But instead of comforting silence, a distorted voice echoed out from speakers surrounding the stage. "Hello Peaches," the voice began smugly, as if they were smiling from behind the microphone.

“I bet you thought you were safe, nice and cozy in this oh-so-wonderful town. Did you think you could spend this weekend guzzling booze and cradling the karaoke mic with those cotton candy-coated sticky fingers without hearing from me? This weekend may be all about fun and games, but just because you try to ignore the problem, doesn't mean it goes away - isn't that right Angel Barbosa?"

The crowd turned their heads, all looking for the brunette among the sea of people who suddenly appeared to be thirsty blood sharks. While some appeared to be satisfied with the bubbling caldron of drama on the stage before them, many were hungry for more. The shuffling of everyone's feet, in conjunction with their murmurs, created a dull, chaotic roar amongst the crowd. "The Barbosa name is know to be strong, superior and loved. But how would people feel knowing that their matriarch isn't taking time off for a break like those who have the luxury of being ignorant for the weekend? If they knew little Barbosa came home to a place of abuse and to take care of mommy dearest, that'd certainly change the connotation of that powerful name. Such a cross to bare. I do hope chemo is treating your mother well." 

To believe that the Peacher's reign was over was a long shot. The townspeople knew that this entity always came for the throat, and in cases of utter desperation, the whole flock. And while the square quickly filled with hungry whispers, musing about the Barbosa family and where exactly Angel’s mother had been all this time, their thoughts were cut short as the voice carried out from the speaker once again, menacing and coming with a vengeance.

"While we're discussing health problems, why don't we take a look closer at someone with much less power? Perhaps you've heard of her - the quiet little field mouse, constantly turtling in the corner with a blunt in hand to ease that anxiety that will certainly make her heart stop one day. Sweet, dearest Clementine,” the voice continued, drawing out the blondes name painfully slowly, savoring each syllable. Eyes darted around the sea of people in search of their regular waitress at the Giant Peach as the voice began once again. "It's a shame you can't set off on a journey to Oz to find a new heart. I'll share a quote that you can empathize with from the wonderful wizard himself: hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable. The tin man was enthused to discover that the heart-shaped clock he was given ticked. But you know what it's like to be living on borrowed time. Shhhhh. If you listen close enough, folks, you can hear the sound of the irregular heartbeat speeding up, and up, and up, and up—”

By now the crowd was searching for where the voice was coming from with no success. They should've known by now that once the Peacher took the microphone - it was quite over for whoever they laid their mark on. And while there were many desperately searching for the source of the voice, following the trail of dozens of wires leading away from the stage, their efforts were futile and led them to dead ends. The Peacher was good at this. The Peacher had been doing this for years. Their empire wouldn’t come crashing down because of forgotten wires. Not a chance.

"Let's call it ladies night, shall we? How do you feel about that, Lennon? Or should I say Jazlyn?” The voice coo’d, letting Lennon’s real name roll off their tongue with ease. “What? Did I strike a chord? I'm surprised to see you out, Rapunzel. You're usually cooped up in the towers. How did you ever end up in a place like Peach Hollow? You may have traded San Francisco's streets for suburbia, but you never stoped looking over your shoulder. It's tough shaking off that kind of pain, isn't it? I do hope you have a good therapist or the number to a private investigator on speed dial. You never know whose creeping up behind and when they're going to strike."

With every name and every secret that spilled out from the speakers, the crowd in the square grew more restless. People began backing away from the stage in fear of being the next target while others continued their search for the victims, questions ready, prepared for attack. In a flash, friends turned to strangers, changing everything anyone knew about their friends, and opening their eyes to the truth that their small town in the middle of Georgia was not as picture-perfect as it was made to appear. The veil was being lifted, exposing the dark truth that lay hidden behind the climbing vines and looming trees that lined their streets. The truth was, finally, coming out. 

"Hot off the presses. Two of our Peach Hollow dames are with child! While one of our mamas has done a one-eighty from their past, it seems Scarlett has not changed her ways at all; the effervescent juggler of men. Have you settled on the one who helped create the thing in your womb? Can you say with certainty who is sharing your seed? Or is he just another faceless man you've had wrapped around your pale, perfectly manicured finger, much like your college professor? Do you love Dominic the way you loved the man before him? Wonder how many papers you would have failed if you weren't riding away on that stallion? And a married man too? Do you ever wonder if his wife found out? Guess she'll know now.”

The Peacher questions fired off like bullets from a gun, shooting off in every direction without even a second between to recover. They were sharp and to the point, the barrel aimed to kill. On stage, the Mayor shuffled nervously from one foot to the other, his sunken eyes scanning the faces of his residents, the residents he vowed to keep safe and protect, no matter the cost. And instead they were being attacked with accusatory words and hurtful questions. It seemed no-one was safe, and he could do nothing but pray it was the end.

"Why don't we end off this wonderful evening with the thorn in the Peach Hollow garden? Rose Harmon. Until death do us part is not meant to be taken literally, you know? Let's play a game of twenty questions in lesser words. Was the body still warm when you packed your bags? Did you know the batch was laced? How does one recover from something like that? What are you on now? Meth, Coke? Can you even say her name? Be careful, Rose, don't think Finley is with the guy upstairs if you know what I mean, and the reaper may be coming for you next."

A gasp filled the air as the bright, vivacious woman who’d worked nearly all booths that afternoon had her dirty laundry exposed for the world to see. At this point, a quiet hush had fallen over the crowd. People abandoned their desperate search for the source of the voice, and instead stood in silence. Whether they accepted the words was up for debate - but if there was one thing the residents of Peach Hollows knew, it was that The Peacher, despite how vile and violent they could be, was never wrong. They simply provided the information. And now, it was up to everyone else to pick up the pieces.

"Clearly Peach Hollow was bred on the foundation of honesty. Look around; all of you have your secrets. This isn't meant to stir up drama. What am I? A fucking gossip columnist? TMZ? No, I'm the person lurking in the shadows, the person sitting in the booth near the back, or waiting in line at the bathroom. I’m the person that ensures all wrongdoings are brought to light, that we pay for what we've done. Whether it's a business deal or illness or an abortion that you thought you could hide, I will know. Soon enough, the town will know. Peach Hollow is not a safe place to be, and it won't be as long as the chase is on. Oh, how could I forget? Happy birthday, mister Mayor. I hope you liked your gift. You should have seen the look on your face." 

And suddenly, everything was quiet. 

[f4liveblogarchives]

Fantastic Four Vol 1 #178

Mon Aug 19 2019 [11:39 PM] Wack'd: Welcome to 1977! [11:42 PM] Wack'd: When last we saw our intrepid heroes, the Frightful Four had shot Ben into the Negative Zone, entrapped Reed, Sue, Johnny, Thundra, and Tigra, and teamed up with a big purple monster named "Brute", who is actually the shape-shifting Reed Richards of Counter-Earth! [11:42 PM] Wack'd: Exciting! [11:43 PM] Bocaj: Good ol' Tigra [11:44 PM] Bocaj: I can only imagine that her stint with the FF has more dignity to it than her first stint with the Avengers [11:44 PM] Wack'd: So Thomas apparently decided the Negative Zone thing was a little much, and teases a fight between Ben and a buncha weirdies before Counter-Reed fishes him out and puts him in shackles [11:45 PM] Wack'd: ...debatable

[11:46 PM] Bocaj: DIGNITy [11:46 PM] maxwellelvis: "Is it really such a stretch?" [11:47 PM] Wack'd: So backstory time! Counter-Reed was shot into space during the Galactus / High Evolutionary fight to get reinforcements, and, well [11:47 PM] Wack'd: 🎵 He was struck by cos~mic rays! 🎶 [11:48 PM] Bocaj: sure [11:49 PM] Wack'd: Anyway I guess being martyred made him jaded or evil or whatever [11:49 PM] Wack'd: They don't really get into it, and it's not like any member of the Frightful Four has airtight motivations, so [11:49 PM] Wack'd: Anyway he stowed away on the Four's ship to get to Earth and here we are [11:50 PM] Wack'd: Counter-Reed demand Reed dies because this planet ain't big enough for the two of them [11:51 PM] Wack'd: And Flint is like "what? No, we have other plans," even though the last time this team showed up he was the murderery one, but whatever [11:52 PM] maxwellelvis: Last time must have remembered Sandman's half-Osborne [11:52 PM] maxwellelvis: and this time they forgot that. [11:52 PM] Wack'd: Which is weird, because the reverse cornrows are back [11:53 PM] maxwellelvis: Yeah [11:53 PM] Wack'd: Anyway, turns out they're holding the Four for ransom, so Counter-Reed takes a chill pill, but if the ransom doesn't get paid he's gonna murder the fuck out of Reed [11:53 PM] Bocaj: we don't have to believe that Sandman is related to Norman [11:53 PM] Bocaj: We don't have to give John Byrne that [11:54 PM] Wack'd: Here we are--his last two appearances were under Conway's pen [11:54 PM] Wack'd: So we can chalk that character trait up to just more of Conway being an edgelord [11:55 PM] maxwellelvis: Either that or Gerry was just writing him like he was in a Spider-Man comic. [11:56 PM] maxwellelvis: But also, in that appearance, Sandman was in that horrid outfit Jack Kirby put him in, right? [11:56 PM] Wack'd: Ben wonders where Impossible Man is, and

[11:56 PM] Wack'd: Remember, kids! TV is bad! Read comics instead! [11:56 PM] maxwellelvis: Oh no, we're going there. [11:57 PM] maxwellelvis: Let's just be thankful he didn't turn on one of the eps with Mork in it. [11:57 PM] Bocaj: God his eyebrows are intense [11:57 PM] Wack'd: @maxwellelvis : Under Conway, or I guess under Buscema and Buckler? The costume went away. George Pérez has brought it back [11:58 PM] maxwellelvis: But he has his hair visible this time? [11:58 PM] maxwellelvis: So I guess he ditched the helmet? [11:58 PM] Wack'd: I'm pretty sure it's always been more of a...head-jockstrap [11:59 PM] Wack'd: Roy Thomas' fixation on how 60s the Four are continues--get it? No one reads them anymore!

[11:59 PM] maxwellelvis: Clearly, Justin Credible should have played Sandman in a Fantastic Four movie [12:00 AM] Bocaj: I wonder what the sales do look like [12:00 AM] Wack'd: More topical references

[12:01 AM] Wack'd: Hi NYC Mayor Abe Beame, Jimmy Carter, Gerald Ford, and a pre-election Ronald Reagan [12:01 AM] maxwellelvis: Ha ha, it's funny because Gerry fell over [12:01 AM] Wack'd: Gerry? [12:02 AM] maxwellelvis: Gerry Ford [12:02 AM] Wack'd: Ahhh [12:02 AM] Wack'd: hahahahahahahahaha

[12:03 AM] Wack'd: I guess Pete is the murdery one now?

[12:05 AM] Wack'd: Kinda got a one-track mind, don'tcha, Wizard

[12:05 AM] maxwellelvis: It's like he uses that statement as punctuation. [12:06 AM] Wack'd: Anyway, here's a plot point that's dated oddly--Impossible Man's TV-watching is cut short by the end of the broadcast day [12:06 AM] Wack'd: Assuming the TV is out of juice, he goes to fidget with the Baxter's generator [12:07 AM] Wack'd: And thus ends up turning off all power to the building, including the mechanical traps our heroes were stuck in [12:07 AM] maxwellelvis: Oh. [12:07 AM] maxwellelvis: We're not going where I thought we were. [12:07 AM] Wack'd: You thought he was going to save the day with pop culture references [12:07 AM] maxwellelvis: And I was so looking forward to seeing Impossible Man go around on a bike and leather jacket [12:08 AM] Wack'd: Yeah, we were on the same page [12:08 AM] maxwellelvis: I thought he was going to get into wacky hijinks imitating Fonzie. [12:08 AM] Wack'd: Anyway, fight fight fight~ [12:09 AM] Bocaj: Impossible Man was the 'villain' of an episode of Avengers Assemble. [12:09 AM] Bocaj: His shtick there was that he was the Biggest Fan of Falcon and decided to use his powers to force Falcon more into a starring role [12:09 AM] Wack'd: Impossible Mite [12:09 AM] maxwellelvis: They turned him- yeah [12:09 AM] Bocaj: Like most episodes of Avengers Assemble I was mostly just embarrassed for having watched it and second hand embarrassed that it even got made [12:09 AM] maxwellelvis: they turned him into Bat-Mite [12:10 AM] Wack'd: It's Sue against Counter-Reed, who can't bring himself to kill her because APPARENTLY ANOTHER BOOK REVEALED COUNTER-SUE IS IN A COMA AND HE'S REAL SAD ABOUT IT [12:10 AM] Wack'd: SURE [12:11 AM] maxwellelvis: I think if I ever got to be the showrunner of a series of Marvel cartoons, I'd try to have Irving Forbush fill the role they tried to fit Impossible Man into, @Bocaj [12:11 AM] Bocaj: From what I know of him, that makes more sense [12:11 AM] Wack'd: I dunno if this is the point at which shared universes officially become a mistake [12:11 AM] Wack'd: But we're getting there [12:12 AM] Wack'd: Anyway, Reed's stretchiness is now completely gone, so he asks Ben to save Sue for him [12:13 AM] Wack'd: And Ben's like, "uh, actually I'm saving her for me, because I also have a relationship with this person you married and it's weird that that didn't occur to you" [12:13 AM] Wack'd: And then he Buscema-punches Counter-Reed across the room [12:13 AM] Bocaj: Nice [12:13 AM] maxwellelvis: So, Counter-Reed has to be the seeds for the Council of Reeds, right? [12:14 AM] Wack'd: Tigra is still glued up so she steals a anti-grav disc with her teeth and just fucking kamikazes into Wizard [12:14 AM] Wack'd: I'm pretty sure that's not how those discs work but it's cool so whatever [12:15 AM] Wack'd: And then Sue force-fields him and he grumbles about getting his ass kicked by women [12:15 AM] Wack'd: Meanwhile Johnny melts Pete's gun and Tigra punches Flint over and over and over so he can't reform. [12:16 AM] maxwellelvis: Sure [12:17 AM] Wack'd: Off-panel, the Reed-on-Reed fight has concluded, with one Reed flung into the Negative Zone and another bemoaning his lack of stretching [12:17 AM] Wack'd: The rest of the team rejects Reed's resignation on the basis that his real superpower is being super smart and also they're a family [12:18 AM] Wack'd: Anyone want to guess what the twist is? [12:18 AM] maxwellelvis: It's the wrong Reed [12:18 AM] Wack'd: Yeeeeeeep [12:18 AM] Bocaj: gdi [12:19 AM] Bocaj: Once alternate universe duplicates come up its just common sense to have a security phrase [12:19 AM] Wack'd: They've traded their beloved leader for a man who keeps secrets, pouts when he doesn't get his way, and generally makes bad decisions [12:19 AM] Wack'd: So, you know [12:19 AM] Wack'd: Kind of a lateral move

[tiredlonelyghost]

I decided to do a timeline for the erasermic ship! Basically my headcannons on these guys lovely love life so if you wanna read it read below! for i have also included my crappy art c:

Friendship: so pretty much these guys were friends at UA I mean its cannon ffs. though I’d like to think they had a bumpy start because you know, angst and teenage emotions are always fun to think about! 

Shouta’s and Hizashi’s personalities couldn’t be anymore different, so when they first officially met  Shouta wanted nothing more than for this weird cockatoo looking person to somehow vanish or be expelled. He was loud, annoying, and for some reason he laughed at his own jokes more then what was necessary. Walking into class was pure hell for Shouta for this kid also thought it was mandatory to greet each person who walked in like a bird as well, teachers, students, a odd pet principal, anything. If anything could be worse Hizashi then made it his personal goal at some point during the school year to befriend Shouta; Needless to say, Shouta wasn’t having any of it. Their interactions mainly consisted of Hizashi trying to form anything conversation with our eraser hero in training and failing as Shouta would just sit there and never say a word to the other boy.

 All Hizashi wanted was to get to know Shouta better, the dude is really cool! Unlike Shouta, Hizashi had a weird obsession with him from the beginning. You could basically say he was the first ever eraserhead fanboy ( Eraserhead trash #1) and he would stop at nothing to be this dude’s friend. All the other students were confused at Hizashi’s interest in Shouta, to them he was just another loner who never talked and sat in the back of the class by themselves; but Hizashi saw more then that. He saw skill, determination, discipline, and one cool ass quirk yo! He tried his best to get a word or a reaction out of the other boy but his efforts never got him what he wanted, and it was really affecting our poor cockatoo. He couldn’t understand what he was doing wrong, he tried talking but he never got a response, he tried being nice sharing notes and even buying a random snack or two for the other boy but still nothing; you would think he would’ve gave up, but a yamada never gives up, he would keep trying even if it never got him no where. 

 One day though, he finally got a response; just not the one he wanted. Hizashi walking into the school’s entrance one day saw Shouta in front of him, and just like always he walked up behind him gave him a charming Hizashi greeting and began talking. Before walking into the school itself though Shouta stopped in his tracks, turned around, looked at Hizashi in the eyes (sunglasses) and said the three magic words 

“Please, fuck off.” 

Hizashi actually doesn’t remember clearly what happened after that. He did however, remember crying the entire day. He doesn’t even know why he had cried so much over a simple rejection but it had stung him so much, all he wanted was to be this dudes friend, why did he hate him so much? Hizashi is pretty much a zombie the entire week after that, no one but the students that had witnessed what had happened knew what was wrong with him. The classrooms atmosphere dropped with Hizashi’s mood, the room was to quiet and the tension in the air was almost unbearable and nothing made it better no matter what anyone tried. Until one day Hizashi was sitting at his desk looking down at his hands when he heard someone walk up and drop a snack on his desk. Confused, Hizashi looked up and saw Shouta standing there in front of him. His jaw tensed up as he braced himself for whatever the other teen was about to say. 

“I’m sorry, Yamada.” 

For once in his life Yamada Hizashi was speechless, another three magic words and it seemed that this depressive cursed that was laid upon him vanished. He smiled, rubbed the back of his head and accepted the apology. Shouta began to response to him after that, he didn’t talked a lot but just enough to keep Hizashi happy and smiling. They’re inseparable after that.

Confession: 

Throughout high school after befriending each other they’re best friends. They depend on each other for almost everything and Shouta honestly doesn’t know when he became so emotionally invested Hizashi. Though making him cry that day did seem to make something in him “snap” it was like he could feel any emotion the other boy was feeling at all times, and he didn’t like it at all. He could feel Hizashi’s happiness, his sadness (and among other things but lets blame that on hormones) after awhile of experiencing this though he began to get used to it. 

 They finally entered college and became roommates ( oh boy oh boy I wonder how that happened) while Shouta saw this as being one step closer to being a pro hero, Hizashi completely saw something else. 

PARTYING! DATING! SEX(ing?)! 

 Shouta really couldn’t stand it. Everyday Hizashi was begging him to go to some party with him, meet some people, be social. Shouta didn’t want any of it though, he didn’t need to party, he didn’t need to be social. If anything, all he needed was Hizashi by his side and he could get through anything, and it’s when he hit this realization shit went down hill. He soon realized that him feeling Hizashis “emotions” wasn’t really that at all. He was happy when Hizashi was happy, he was sad when Hizashi was sad,(and among other things, those damn hormones amirite?) that was all on his own and he hated it, because that meant he was in love with his best friend. 

 After he realized this, jealousy hit him like a rock. Hizashi was always bringing some date back to their room, or talking to Shouta about this chick or that dude. This caused things to go a little sour, Shouta began to distance himself from Hizashi. He couldn’t deal with the complicated feelings of a one sided love, he wouldn’t be able to get his studies done if all he was thinking about was how Hizashi was probably out doing god knows what with someone else right now. He drowned himself into his work, blocking out anything or anyone that tried to reach him. Blocking out Hizashi. 

 It obviously doesn’t take Hizashi to long to notice that Shouta is straight up ignoring him. He pulled this shit in high school before they were friends and hes pulling it again now. Like before Hizashi doesn’t know what he did wrong and it drives him crazy. He tries to chalk it up to Shouta just being really serious with his studies, which isn’t that far from the truth; but theres a difference to being busy and straight up ignoring someone. He doesn’t know if he should press Shouta about why he’s doing this, or just leave it be and hope for the best. He chooses the latter, It’s lonely and honestly kinda painful but he knows when Shouta is ready he’ll talk about why he’s doing what he’s doing. 

 One day though, Hizashi just has to talk to Shouta about something, a band that Hizashi is obsessed with is coming to the city they’re in and Hizashi is ecstatic. He had it all planned out, He’ll come back to the room tell Shouta about the concert, Shouta will be hella pumped and they’ll go together, and everything will be okay. Except that isn’t at all what ended up happening. 

 Hizashi does go back to the room and tells Shouta about the concert, but Shouta ignores him. Not a word out of him. So Hizashi repeats himself but louder this time, same response. He began to think, if this isn’t getting Shouta’s attention maybe something else will, so he does what he does best, be annoying as hell to Shouta. It isn’t till Hizashi is basically screaming the lyrics to Hit Me Baby by Brittney Spears Shouta finally looks at him. Their eyes lock and the room falls silent as Hizashi is muted by Shouta’s intense gaze. Shouta opens his mouth, and says three. magic. words.

“Please, fuck off.” 

Hizashi doesn’t know what happens again. All he knows is that he’s bawling his eyes out and had Shouta pinned underneath him. He finally catches his breath, and began to shout at Shouta. Screaming at him asking why, why was he acting like this, why did he hate him? Did he do something wrong? Is there something he can do to stop this behavior? The list goes on. Shouta is under him wide eyed and shocked. He didn’t realize that saying that would cause such a reaction from the other, he was uncomfortable. With the weight Hizashi was pressing down on him and the headache he was beginning to developed due to his screeching, Shouta began to feel extremely overwhelmed. The screeching came to a sudden halt though, and Shouta took this chance to try to sit back up. Hizashi stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, he used his other wipe to wipe away the tears that had started to dry on his face and took a deep breath. 

“Shouta, I’m so sorry for shouting. I just, I can’t stand it when you do that. You mean so much to me and I’m so scared something is going to take you away from me, that’s why when you do this I just feel so hopeless. I don’t ever want to lose you, if I ever did I don’t know what I’d do.” 

Hizashi reached for Shouta’s hand, Shouta’s breath stilling as his fingers wrapped around his own. He looks at their conjoint hands, and then back at Hizashi. His eyes are red and puffy from crying so hard, he looks tired, drained. Guilt washes over Shouta like the ocean over the shore. He has to say something to make Hizashi feel better, he can’t let him stay like this.

“Hizashi, I-”

His sentence was cut off as Hizashi moved the hand on his shoulder to cup his jaw, forcing his head up, and leaning in to kiss him lightly on the lips. It hadn’t lasted long at all, but for Shouta it felt like the entire world paused, only to be resumed when his friend pulled back and looked him in the eyes.

 “Shouta, you mean so much to me.” 

Marriage: 

If you’re thinking Hizashi is the one that proposed HA HA HA BITCH YOU’D BE WRONG

after that incident in college, our boys finally started dating, after graduating college and becoming our beloved heros Present Mic and Eraser Head. They  finally got settled down and moved into some semi-decent apartment. Their lives are hella busy, with Eraser being a pro hero and a teacher from Present Mic being  pro hero, a teacher, AND A FUCKING RADIO SHOW HOST, things can get kinda hectic needless to say. Though at the end of the day ( or like week) both of them are just happy to finally spend alone time together in the comfort of their apartment, watching crappy movies and eating food that will probably give them stomach cancer in the next 20 years. 

 One of these days though Hizashi can see that Shouta is anxious, yet he doesn’t know why. They had be cuddling on the couch watching some cheesy romance movie, Shouta tensing up every now and then. It got really bad though when a proposal scene came up, Hizashi had to pause the movie and ask Shouta if he was alright. 

He was quiet, looking anywhere but at Hizashi. Then suddenly he sighed, and nodded.

“It’s just that lately, I’ve been thinking about something a lot.” 

Hizashi raised a eyebrow up at him and Shouta sighed again. He suddenly shot up and walked into their bedroom. Hizashi extremely confused at this point, didn’t know if he should follow him or stay where he was. That didn’t matter though as Shouta came back into their living room, standing in front of their couch and hiding something behind his back. 

“When we first met, I honestly would’ve never thought that you would’ve had this much of a impact on my life, I was just some weird quiet kid trying to get through his school years and you were this loud, annoying, popular guy who wouldn’t leave me alone. At first I couldn’t stand you, but as we got closer I’ve found that I actually couldn’t stand being WITHOUT you. life is to quiet when you’re not around, it lacks warmth, security, and color. You make everything seem so bright and cartoon like it actually makes me wonder if your quirk is actually being a fucking cartoon or anime character. There’s been times where I’ve pushed you away and almost lost you, times where I would hide how I feel around you, but no more of that. Hizashi I’ve been thinking about this for awhile, And if you’ll have me.”

Shouta got on one knee, and pulled out a tiny box out from behind his back, opening it and revealing a ring.

“I’d like it if you would be my husband. Hizashi, will you marry me?”

Hizashi then almost deafens the entire city from screaming yes.

Family:

a couple years after getting married our boys finally adopt our lovely Hitoshi and then eventually Eri. Their life isn’t perfect, but they wouldn’t have it any other way. 

(theres more to say but I’ve been working on this non-stop for 8 hours now and i need to crash before I actually black out and die or something) 

[jungblue]

mixtape (m)

pairing: min yoongi x reader 

genre: smut, fluff, comedy / college, podcast personality au

word count: 15,610

description: Two mystery students from your college run the podcast dubbed ‘mixtape.’ It’s become a sort of phenomenon around campus, listened to by almost everyone. In their most recent episode they discussed various study methods... One of them being oh so tempting.

“This week’s topic is—” Sugar started, of course only to be swiftly interrupted by the second half of the two-man show podcast that had sort of gone viral around your college campus.

But regardless of being cut short, the metallic nature of his voice still managed to worm its way directly into your chest, where it festered into something so captivating that you couldn’t help but sigh. It was cool to the touch as the syllables of his chosen words sent an intrusion of goosebumps along your arms and thighs. It had a certain gravel, a deepness that you could sometimes feel in the pit of your belly if you listened to him long enough with your eyes closed. However, more times than not, the grit would be severed with a vibrant laugh that rang so sweetly that you could feel it clamoring around your heart with giddiness on its heels.

“—Studying! So sexy, right?” Jay interjected mid-sentence, something that anyone who listened to their weekly episodes would quickly learn is a norm.

However, there were times of course where Sugar was allowed the courtesy of going off on long tangents without his friend’s interruption, and in those moments his voice was hypnotic, if you had to put it simply. It tugged you beneath the current of concentration until you were pressing the volume button on your phone to raise his vocals higher. The small hitch of his breath, or exhale against the mic when he would sigh due to the topic at hand, they made you lean in closer to the invisible man on the other side of the pre-recorded audio that filtered through your headphones.

“Another Jay-led interruption here on mixtape, wow how shocking?” Sugar deadpanned, his sarcasm making you grin to yourself in amusement.

“He loves me guys, don’t let him fool you just because he likes to act all cool and stoic while recording. He’s a big softie, honestly.”

“Really? I’m the softie? Who was the one I found crying on their couch the other day because Bridge to Tera-fucking-bithia was on TV?”

“Oh, you really wanna go there?” Jay scoffed, a comeback already settling on his tongue. After all, this sort of playful banter, along with their personality dynamic was the main reason that the podcast worked so well. Because really it was just half an hour of them going on tangents and talking shit to each other. “You cried for hours over that fucking sports anime, Ace of some shit. I had to buy you like three pizzas just to calm your ass down — which you never Venmo’d me back for… Just sayin’.”

“First of all, it’s Ace of Diamond, asshole, and you didn’t play sports in high school so you just don’t get it. Their pain and suffering, the loss, the goddamn character development. It’s just — okay, never mind I’m not getting into this with you because honestly I’m getting a bit teary-eyed thinking about it again.”

They both snorted in laughter over the microphone, and you couldn’t help but do the same because it was honestly infectious. Their conversations were always so natural and funny.

“Okay now that we’re done talking about shit that makes us cry, are you ready to get into this week’s topic that you so rudely interrupted the introduction of?” Sugar asked after they both came down from the high of their breathless amusement.

“I mean it’s studying, dude. Can you blame me? I’m just gonna tell everyone that I really wanted to avoid this topic at all cost, but Sugar here just wouldn’t budge. So if you use our voices as a monotonous background for your descent into sleep tonight, I legit won’t blame you.”

“Nothing is monotonous when it comes to you, so let’s not lie. This is a podcast of integrity dammit.” You heard the playful slam of Sugar’s palm against whatever surface they were presumably sitting at. You giggled slightly at his sliver of humor until he continued. “But really, even though it isn’t the most exciting topic ever, this is still a college podcast, and Jay and I need to cover all of our bases, so you just gotta bear with us. But as a special treat for suffering through my tips and tricks, next week’s episode is gonna be one that I’m sure you were all expecting eventually—”

“—College sex life! That’s right, my friends, we’re gonna get all down in that bow chicka wow wow nitty gritty—”

“I hate you so much,” Sugar said, but you could definitely hear the way his voice shook with laughter at Jay’s ridiculous commentary. That was another reason his voice enticed you so much. It was just really raw, always managing to convey the smile, annoyance, distraction, or frustration that no doubt laced his expression. It was funny, you had absolutely no idea as to what the appearance of your favorite podcast personality was, yet you still managed to picture him inside of your head as he spoke with each and every emotion that his weekly episodes brought him and his lively counterpart to. The curl of his lip or roll of his eyes somehow manifested themselves in your thoughts so vividly. “You sound like such a fratty douche, maybe you wanna reel it in a bit?”

“Well I am fratty, but not the douche kind.”

“Debatable, but admittedly sometimes I do forget that you’re part of Delta Delta Dickhead.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s next week’s topic, sorry for the wait.”

���Ohhh nice segue, dude. But you’re still an asshole. Anyways yeah, next week’s gonna be a lot of fun, you’ll get to hear all about Sugar’s freshman year filled with pointless Tinder dates and chlamydia surprises — so, so much fun.” It seemed that you and Sugar sputtered violently in surprise at the sudden proclamation.

“Really? You’re gonna rub freshman year fuck-ups in my face?”

“That’s what friends are for.”

“You mean shitty friends,” Sugar proposed.

“Tomato, tomato,” Jay replied by saying the words in the exact same way, with what seemed like a shrug.

“That’s… Not even how the saying — okay, whatever. Moving on. Studying. What’re your tips, and don’t you dare say things about not cramming or waiting until the last minute. Nobody wants to hear that Harvard shit.”

“Don’t be mean, kids from Harvard might listen to this.”

“I mean it was a compliment more than anything. Their time management skills are just alien to me. But the bigger point here is that if there’s anyone from Harvard listening to this podcast please make me the CFO or something if you end up creating the next Facebook or whatever. Just don’t screw me over like Eduardo. I saw The Social Network, buddy,” Sugar warned as he moved in closer to the mic it seemed.

“Great movie.”

“Fucking fantastic movie.”

“No biases whatsoever.”

“Of course, they would never.”

“But anyways, so my studying tips,” Jay paused for a moment, already sighing. “See this is why I didn’t wanna do this topic. Nothing is fun about studying. How can I even make this interesting?”

“Guess you’re just not as creative as me,” Sugar replied, most certainly smirking as he did so.

“Okay, big shot, you go then. What’s your tip?”

There was a small pause before he answered, and it made your breath hitch a little. “Well, it’s a bit not safe for work.”

“You’re lying,” Jay exclaimed immediately. “What the hell kind of studying are you doing? Studying pussy, maybe. Not fucking physics.”

“Well you’re not wrong, I mean on my part at least. But it can definitely be applied whatever way you want, depending on who needs to study.”

You felt yourself sit up straighter against your headboard, slightly (or very) intrigued by whatever this studying tip was.

“Okay, just spill already. Now you’ve got me interested. If this is any good I’m actually gonna be pissed that you didn’t tell me sooner.”

“You’ll live,” Sugar laughed. “But the only thing you’ll need is flash cards.”

“Oh my god, wow I’m getting so hard just thinking about those flexible paper rectangles. Mhm, oh yeah.”

“I’m ignoring you. Anyway, once you have the flash cards you’ll have to find yourself a consensual study partner who’s in the mood to go down on you—”

“What the fuck? That took a turn. I mean a good turn, but still,” Jay interrupted for unsurprisingly the millionth time, and so Sugar simply continued without acknowledging the outburst.

“Once you have the agreement set up, it’s pretty straight forward. Get your stack of flashcards with everything that you need to know for that exam, and for every one that you get right you get some of that sweet, lovely oral stimulation, and for every one that you get wrong you obviously get nothing. Or you could always be mean and push the incentive higher by saying you get nothing for the next five or so cards if you get one wrong. But yeah that is my studying tip.”

You felt your tongue almost involuntarily run along the top of your teeth. There was even a slight flare of pressure in your lower stomach as you imagined the idea of participating in the scenario that you wish you had heard of sooner. Maybe you needed to pick up some flashcards…

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jay finally said after a pause that you chalked off as astonishment. “Dude, that’s… That’s fucking genius. You should’ve written that on a blimp and gotten it flown over campus. Like… Sex and productivity, now that is revolutionary.”

Sugar simply snorted in response. “Okay, it’s not that crazy. I’m definitely not the first person to do it. But I thought I would share for all the unknowing parties out there. So yeah, if you’re gonna have sex, might as well study for bio or whatever while you’re at it.”

“Okay real question though,” Jay suddenly asked, curiosity brimming. “So you’ve actually done this before, right?”

“Obviously, I wouldn’t recommend it if I hadn’t,” He responded simply.

“So obviously the most important question is… Did they pass the test?”

Oh yeah, that was sort of the important part, wasn’t it? That the sex wouldn’t be so distracting that your productiveness wilted because of it. So with that in mind, you waited carefully to hear Sugar’s answer.

“Dude, okay so this might sound like I’m bragging, but I promise it’s just the truth. Every time I’ve done it,” He paused for a second, building the anticipation. “They set the fucking curve.”

You felt your blood spike instantly, and then you had to accept the fact that you just got the tiniest bit turned on by the idea of good grades. What the hell was wrong with you?

“Shut the fuck up. You’ve gotta be lying. I don’t’ believe you. I refuse to believe you, dude.” You could tell that Jay was smiling through his disbelief, even if his words were skeptical.

“I swear. No bullshit. One-hundred percent, all of them.”

“What… the fuck? I don’t know if I should believe you, but to save us from arguing until the end of time on the episode I’m just gonna go with it for now. But like, wow… Oral and studying, who knew?”

“I promise I’m not lying, but yeah try it out guys. Flashcards are sold at your local Wal-mart, Staples, and just about everywhere else you could possibly think of.”

“Yeah, might be kind of weird though. If someone’s about to go down on you, and you’re just like, uhm hey can you read these flashcards to me in this weird study tactic I learned off of a podcast,” He laughed, and yeah you had to agree. It sounds nice in theory, but actually asking someone to do it might be a tad awkward.

“Just put it in the bio of your Tinder profile. ‘Just looking for someone to do the mixtape flashcard study tip with.’ If they get it and are interested, then there you go.”

“First message: You got the flashcards?”

You snickered at the idea, as did the two boys in your headphones.

“Yeah, you’re definitely not getting a reply with a lead-off question like that.”

“Definitely not. I don’t care if you look like KJ Apa, you’re not getting a response.”

“Who’s that?”

“Archie from Riverdale.”

Sugar hummed in response. “Haven’t seen it. It’s that CW show, right?”

“Yes, and oh my god, I can’t believe we’re friends. It’s so good. Like the dialogue is kind of ehh, but the actual story is addicting.”

“Wow, sorry I didn’t take you for someone that would enjoy CW shows.”

“Fuck off, Gossip Girl transcends time and space.”

“You’re in a frat, of course you’d like that boujee shit,” He quipped playfully.

“Not true. I had a girlfriend in high school who watched it, and like… dude before you know it you’re invested and crying that Serena gets everything that Blair wants in life. It’s fucked up.”

You smiled, partly due to your own enjoyment of the teen-socialite drama, but also because of Sugar’s laughter that he was clearly trying to stifle. “Good to know,” He ended up saying with light traces of humor still managing to catch his words. “But what were we even talking about? Study tips? Yeah, so—”

“Dude!” Jay suddenly exclaimed, making you jump slightly.

“Fuck, don’t yell. What is it?” Sugar replied with a hint of irritation.

“They’re giving out free milkshakes and t-shirts at the quad.”

Sugar sighed, because just like you they were college students, and who in their right mind could pass up free stuff on that type of budget. You certainly hadn’t when you had heard about it yesterday, when the duo seemed to have recorded this week’s episode. “Right in front of my fucking podcast, really?”

“Sorry, no post-coital cuddling this week. Gotta run, and I’m sure by the time all of you hear this you’ll have gotten your milkshakes and shirts too, so no hard feelings?”

“Yup, so until next time I’m Sugar.”

“And I’m Jay. Don’t run the on-campus store out of flashcards while we’re gone, you filthy animals. Or totally do because that would be hilarious.”

“Christ, milkshakes are running out. Let’s go.”

The podcast ended with that, Sugar abruptly demanding to quicken the pace in the name of free milkshakes. You don’t know why but the pure relatability of it made you smile, even if just the tiniest bit. You reached up, pulling the headphones out of your ears before lying flat against your bed.

Today had been a rather stressful one with studying for your upcoming anatomy test. It was more information than you could ever hope to cram into your head with the small frame of time until the actual exam. But even with that looming thought eating at the back of your mind, you still felt a lightness in your chest, and you knew what it was because of.

You weren’t sure what it was about them specifically. Their personalities most certainly, their dynamic as friends, the side-tangents they would go off into about The Social Network and Gossip Girl, or the fact that they would stop mid-podcast to high-tail it to the quad for free shit. But it helped to distract you, even if it was only for a little while, away from the stresses that your own life faced. It was strange, that two random guys that went to your college and did a weekly podcast, were able to make your day just the tiniest bit less suffocating. You didn’t know what they looked like or even what their real names were, but somehow it just felt like you could take a breather for the amount of time that you listened to them banter.

But most certainly the strangest thing was the fact that you had developed a weird… Crush? Yeah, that was probably the only word for it. You had developed some strange… feelings towards the guy who used the alias Sugar. It was odd, that over the months of listening to him speak, his characteristics coming through more and more, you just found something about him so alluring. His voice, personality, ideals, sense of humor, just everything pulled you in, only for you to sadly realize that you had no idea who he even was. You didn’t even know his damn name. That was honestly what you wanted to know the most. Of course, you would love to know what he looked like so you could put a face to the voice, but having his name, there was just something more personal about that.

You could feel yourself drifting with that thought. Names scattered around inside of your head. None of them feeling right as you tried to tie it to the voice you had become so attached to over the past several months. Your eyes closed, the deep grip of sleep pulling you farther from consciousness.

You wish you could say that you had gotten to stay like that for a while, peacefully napping, thinking about the mysterious podcast personality, but you got maybe an hour in before your phone started ringing violently from where you had dropped it on the bed after finishing the podcast.

“Fuck,” You mumbled to yourself, voice scratchy as you blindly reached for the device, only vaguely looking at who the caller was before swiping to answer it. “Yes?”

“Someone sounds tired,” Jimin said, sounding slightly amused with your groggy state.

“Yeah, I was napping, you ass.”

“Well I have an important question,” He replied, ignoring the insult. But Jimin had been your best friend for years, so you were both used to the banter by now.

“Better be a million-dollar question.”

He let out a tiny laugh before replying. “Oh, I know you’ll be interested. Did you listen to the new mixtape episode yet?”

You felt yourself wake-up slightly, just at the mention of it. “Yes, I have.”

“Good,” Jimin said plainly, as if he had already known your answer. Which of course he had because he knows you always stop everything and listen the second a mixtape episode drops.

“Why?” You asked, but this was Jimin, your best friend, and so you weren’t at all that surprised by his response.

“Let’s go get some flashcards.”

﹍﹎ ﹍﹎ ﹍﹎

It had been four days since the episode that had caused, what a good portion of your college-campus deemed as ‘flashcard frenzy,’ had dropped. The bookstore, nearby Wal-Marts and office supply chains were suddenly selling flashcards at an alarming rate, so much so that they moved displays of them to the front just for easy access. It was quite honestly the most hilarious phenomenon you had ever witnessed. Too bad you had yet to try the study tip.

Your test was already so close, and you didn’t have time to play around with the idea. You needed to pass, you needed an A, you needed to set the goddamn curve, you apparently needed fucking Sugar between your legs. Christ, what was wrong with you? You didn’t even know the guy. Not his name, face, anything.

But beside that fact, your mind was coursing with stress and possibly every shred of knowledge you could have about anatomy without knowing the important details, and it was beginning to take its toll on you. You could barely keep your eyes open in your other classes today and not even Jimin coming by to cheer you up with food helped. But regardless of that you needed to at least try and study some more, which is why you were currently wandering the library in search of an open table. However, it somehow seemed that every person enrolled in your school had a test coming up because all of the tables were packed, not a spare seat in sight.

“Why, why, why?” You mumbled to yourself as you continued to pass table after table that held zero vacancies.

It was loud on the first floor of the library, as it was mostly used for group studying, or just people who disliked pure silence. You were the latter, unable to concentrate in the cold atmosphere where a sudden cough, or someone rummaging through their backpack could send your focus off the rails. You much preferred a constant stream of noise.

You made your way through the entirety of the first floor with no luck in finding a table to study at, and you were close to giving up and going to the on-campus Starbucks because it never failed to be noisy in there, but then in the corner of your eye you caught sight of a table with a free chair. You breathed a sigh of relief too soon however, because you quickly realized that there was someone sitting on the opposite side of the relatively tiny table compared to the rest in the library.

Normally you would’ve tried to search around a bit more, because you didn’t like feeling as if you were invading someone’s personal space, but knowing how packed out the building was, you knew this was as good as it was going to get. So you tentatively began your strides forward until you were approaching the table, the stranger’s hair hanging down over his eyes as he stared at a textbook.

You internally raised your pitch into a politer tone. “Uhm, hi. Is anyone sitting here?”

In hindsight, you probably should’ve known the second his beanie-clad head lifted, sending a sudden swirl of something hot to the pit of your stomach, that it was a pretty obvious sign that you were beyond fucked. His feline eyes met yours, seemingly cold at first glance, barely covered by his fringe from beneath his hat. You felt yourself gulp slightly, breath stalling just by a fraction as the question you had asked him approximately three seconds prior started to fade. So much so, that when he answered with a kind and polite, “no there isn’t, you can take it,” you kept standing and staring at him like an idiot before you registered the words moments later, and with ample amounts of clumsiness finally took the seat across from him.

“Thank you,” You mumbled, slightly embarrassed of your less than stealth gawking. You thought you even managed to catch an amused smile tracing the stranger’s lips as you snuck another glance, only causing another wave of heat to streamline its way to your face.

You tried to keep your head down as much as possible as you pulled your laptop, papers, and… flashcards, from you backpack, in order to cut down on the chances of accidently staring at your tablemate again. However, this proved more difficult than expected. Your eyes almost forcibly prying themselves from the mess of your studies to catch a glance at the way he was leaning his temple against the capped end of his pen. You found the gesture cute for some reason, especially as he began to tap it against his skin, presumably as he thought through whatever he was working on. Curiosity seized you further as you slid your sights downwards to the textbook sitting before the stranger. Even upside down you could tell that the cover read ‘Calculus’ in bold letters, with several equations that you had forgotten long ago in high school, branching out as a decoration of sorts.

Math, definitely not your strong suit. But really you weren’t sure if you even had what you could call a strong suit in any subject… Especially as you finally returned your eyes to your own belongings, the power points glaring off of your computer screen and a high stack of flash cards sitting so dauntingly before you.

You sighed deeply as you tried to further arrange your side of things on the small table, the reluctance to get started pitted its way deep into the recesses of your procrastination-geared brain. It was in this flurry of trying to figure out where you should even start, that you noticed the low-battery of your laptop. You quickly pulled out the charger from your backpack, already moving to lean underneath the table when you realized that the outlet was in fact right next to the boy in front of you. You paused, realizing that there was no way to get to it without asking him to plug it in for you. You had barely been able to ask for a seat without stuttering and staring like an idiot, so it looked to be time for round-two of making yourself look like a fool in front of unreasonably cute guys.

You inhaled, preparing your pitch to be a bit higher, “Hi, sorry to bother you again,” You began, voice drenched with that robotic politeness that people tended to reserve for strangers. He immediately looked up, one headphone hanging haphazardly out of his ear, and again you felt a slight stutter oncoming. Goddammit, why were his lips so pouty? His eyes so… smoldering? “But, uhm, do you think you could plug this in for me?” You managed to finish, motioning towards the charger in your hand.

His blank expression shifted into something softer. “Yeah, no problem,” He answered simply as he reached across the table to take the cord from your hand.

“Thank you,” You replied as he leaned down to plug the charger into the wall.

You were expecting a return to silence after the short exchange, already pulling your headphones out of the middle pocket of your hoodie in fact, but it was the sudden resurgence of his voice that had you pausing.

“What’re you stressing over?” He asked, his voice a bit louder, a bit clearer, and for some very odd reason a bit… familiar? You weren’t quite sure of why this was, but his tone felt almost nostalgic for some reason. It sent a flooded rush through your chest as he somehow managed to illicit a strange sense of comfort around you. “Only been here for like five minutes and you already seem sort of done with it, y’know?” He was smiling as he finished his question, and wow did that only make your throat run dryer.

You watched the way his lips curved to one side in a sly sort of smile. It was the type of smile that seemed implicative even when it was totally innocent, the sideways grin of confident curiosity pulling on the nerves hiding deep within your belly.

“Anatomy,” You finally answered after staring a bit too long again. “Yeah… I’m sort of fucked.” You decided to answer bluntly, because really there was no point in fronting when the overwhelming anxiety could be seen clearly on your face.

“Definitely been there.” His smile reached his eyes at this, the gums of his teeth peeking through, which almost instantly transformed his grin into something less innately cocky and more so candy sweet. “And I mean like actually been there. I was a biomed major before I switched to engineering.” He raised his textbook to show off the cover filled with various math equations.

“Oh my god, did you pass? —Fuck, sorry you don’t have to answer that.” The question passed your lips before you could process that it might be a bit rude. But he simply laughed in response to your sudden exclamation.

“No, you’re good. But yeah, I passed. With an ‘A’ actually — not to brag.”

Your mouth dropped. “Seriously? How the hell? It’s so much information.”

“Just… Proper study motivation,” He chuckled, and you weren’t sure of what he meant until you saw his eyes dart towards your flashcards. He had only looked at them for maybe half a second at most, and yet the action suddenly had a rush of heat climbing up the back of your neck. You could tell from the slight smirk marking his lips that he knew exactly what he had done, and it only made your face grow warmer. However, thankfully it didn’t seem as if he was expecting you to answer because he immediately changed the subject. “But really it’s not as hard as it seems. You just have to know how to compartmentalize everything, so it’s not so overwhelming.”

How the hell was he going to go from insinuating that you just needed some oral motivation to compartmentalization is key? But not that you were complaining… Especially if he was insulating himself.

However, you were still a bit flustered, so your response came out a bit stuttered. “Uhm y-yeah, easier said than done.”

He seemed to enjoy this reaction from you though. He bit at his lip slightly as he smiled, clearly in amusement form your response.

“My name’s Yoongi by the way,” He said suddenly, allowing you to turn your attention from his mouth and onto something that was appropriate.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, I’ll let you get back to studying.” After that the boy you now knew as Yoongi leaned slightly over the tiny table to get a better look at the page you were on. “Looks like you’re on the skull. Just a tip, focus on the foramen and the openings. She’s obsessed with questions about contents. I know it’s a lot easier to start studying when you have something to focus on.”

“Yeah that does actually help. Thank you.” You flashed him a quick smile before turning your eyes down to your textbook. You found yourself taking Yoongi’s advice, focusing first on the contents of the openings in the skull — too bad there were about ten million fucking openings in the goddamn skull. And it was after about thirty minutes of just trying to memorize them straight from the textbook that you realized it just wasn’t working. It looked like those flashcards were going to come in handy after all.

You felt yourself about to reach for them on the edge of the table, but then you remembered something, causing you to hesitate. It was the way Yoongi’s eyes had locked onto the flashcards with insinuation earlier that made a chill run down your spine. You wanted to reach for them, but for some reason you felt self-conscious… But maybe you were being silly? Maybe it had just been coincidence? And besides that, you honestly didn’t have time to waste with wondering. Your test was in two days, you needed to focus on anatomy and not the possible things that this boy you had spoken less than ten sentences to could do with his mouth.

After a few moments to collect yourself and continuing to revel in your dramatics, you finally reached for the pack of flashcards. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to Yoongi’s face as you did so in order to gauge his reaction. But to your surprise there wasn’t one. His eyes kept themselves trained onto the pages of his textbook. Because of this you felt rather silly. See it wasn’t a big deal, you had just made it one. You felt yourself relax into the chair once more as you began to pick at the plastic surrounding the cards until it finally opened. You pulled out a couple from the stack and then readied yourself to start writing out all of the contents that you needed to know.

However, it was the second glance you spared him as your pen hit the paper (because his attractiveness was an obvious distraction for you) that you saw his crooked grin once more. His eyes met yours, but this time he didn’t pull away, instead he kept you locked in. You felt your breath catch in your throat for a second, until you finally just lost it at how completely insane this entire situation was, since clearly it was no longer a secret that both of you knew what was running through the other’s mind. You released the tiniest of laughs and a playful roll of your eyes as you began to tap the end of your pen against the flashcard, still not breaking eye contact.

“Need help with something?” Yoongi asked with a flirty smile, not even trying to hide his motivations now.

You couldn’t help but scoff at the blatancy, even though you knew that it was affecting you in the exact way that he was intending it to. “Do you offer help to everyone that sits across from you at the library?” You felt yourself lean over the table as you said the words, and Yoongi seemed to follow your lead, leaving the smallest of spaces between the two of you.

“Not at all,” He replied, confidence dripping past his lips. “Just you, honestly. You’re someone that looks like they need help focusing, who happens to have an unopened pack of flashcards that they seemed to have purchased for a certain reason. But please tell me if I’m wrong or if you’re just not interested. If that’s the case, then I’ll be happy to help you study in whatever… mundane way that you want. I’ll even spot you a coffee.”

Your face must have distorted into something of absolute disbelief, because Yoongi suddenly couldn’t control his laughter, putting his cute, gummy-smile back on display. But eventually you reined your expression back in as you let the madness of what was being offered to you settle in.

“Hmm, free coffee or oral… Tough choice, honestly,” You whispered across the table so that anyone close by wouldn’t hear.

At this Yoongi propped his arm onto the table and rested his head against his palm. “Well, since I know that anatomy struggle, I could also spot you some coffee regardless.”

“Wow, you must really wanna go down on me?” You asked, amused, and he simply shrugged as if to say, you’re not wrong. “Why the interest?”

“Do I have to have a big reason?” He asked, letting his hand fall back onto the table. “You’re cute, you need help on a test for a class I’ve taken… I’m just offering a friendly service.” He never stopped grinning at you in that crooked sort of way that made you feel like you were in the corner of some house party instead of the library.

“That’s it? With those standards you should give head to half the girls on campus then.”

“Well, half the girls on campus didn’t sit in front of me with a pack of flashcards meant for something a little less than academic, now did they? Plus, you’ve just looked really cute sighing at your textbook for the past thirty minutes.”

“Thanks, dickhead,” You scoffed playfully. “Glad my suffering is cute to you.”

“It’s very cute,” He mused. “But how about this? You don’t actually have any flashcards done, but lucky for you I remember the contents of the skull, so I can quiz you anyways. Wanna do a practice round.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, but admittedly it piqued your interest. “Practice round? Don’t exactly think you’re brave enough to lay me out on this table and just go for it in the middle of the library.”

“Wanna see if that’s true?” He asked, a certain fire flaring across his eyes. It sent a swirl of arousal through your lower stomach, but you quickly pulled it back in.  

“Maybe another time. So what’s this practice round all about?”

Your question had him moving his chair closer to the table, in fact it had him moving as close as he possibly could, with his stomach now pressed completely against the wooden edge.

“I’m gonna ask you a question, and please feel free to say no, okay?” He whispered, once again leaning over the table.

“Okay,” You nodded with a bit of excitement.

You watched as Yoongi looked from side to side to make sure that there was no one close by. Everyone around you was a good enough distance away that they couldn’t hear what you were saying, and those that were walking past your table seemed to be doing so quickly enough that they wouldn’t be able to catch anything either.

“Can I touch you?” He finally asked, his whisper turning huskier.

Your eyes widened, lust building. “H-here?”

“No one will be able to see, promise. But if you don’t want to, that’s totally okay too.”

The thud of your heart was beating with a dangerous mix of nerves and exhilaration as the words settled between the two of you. “Like… Touch how?” You finally asked after a couple of seconds of mulling it over.

“Just over your pants. If you move your chair closer our knees will be touching. No way anyone will see anything.”

You sighed, smiling because you know that you really shouldn’t do this, but the answer has already been decided by the wetness between your thighs.

“Why’re you tempting me like this? I just met you. I don’t even know your last name, and I’m about to let you basically finger me in a goddamn library.”

“Would knowing my last name make you feel less guilty?” He chuckled.

“Maybe?”

“It’s Min. My major is audio engineering. I’m a senior, graduating in spring. Let’s see… I love rap music. I have a dog named Holly… Any other random facts you’d like to know?”

Somewhere in that rambling sentence of just listening to him speak about himself, your chair was already pushing itself closer to the edge of the table until your knees were clashing with Yoongi’s beneath it. “How about how fast you can make me cum?” You asked boldly, your hesitance turning to dust the second his hand found its way on top of your thigh.

“Wow, someone’s not as shy as they let on.” Yoongi tongued along the top of his teeth as he broke out into a grin. “Well, if we were talking normal circumstances I’d say quicker than you’d probably want, but since this is a game about what you know, then I can’t really say.”

“I literally met you an hour ago…” You trailed off, throwing your hands into your face to hide the embarrassment. “Gahh, I can’t believe I’m about to do this!”

“You know this is only making you cuter, right?” You heard him say, your face still covered. “But really, if you’re uncomfortable then we don’t have to.” You felt your hands suddenly being pulled from your face, and Yoongi appeared with a look of sincerity.

“No, that’s the thing. I really want to, even though I know I shouldn’t.” You sighed, dropping your head onto your textbook. “Why do you have to be so hot? It’s not fair.”

“Oh, so you’re just using me for my good looks then?”

“Don’t forget about your brain,” You said. After all you were only considering this because he had taken anatomy… Yeah, totally no other reason.

“Ah, glad my intellect hasn’t been overshadowed by the things you’re picturing my mouth and hands doing to you right now.” You bit at your lip to try and stifle the grin that threatened to split across your face, and Yoongi seemed highly amused with your failed attempt.

After that you let a few moments of silence settle between the two of you. You tapped your fingers across the wooden part of the table, heavy sighs of contemplation coming one after another. But Yoongi didn’t seem to be impatient at all. He simply continued to sit across from you, the slightest upward quirk laying at the corner of his mouth as he waited for your permission to start this game.

So finally, with one final sigh that rivaled all of those that came before it, you decided it was time to begin.

“Fine. First question.”

Yoongi’s grin splintered further at this. “You sure?”

“Yes. First question, please?”

“Okay,” He started, and then suddenly you felt the hand that had been resting on your knee for the better part of ten minutes began to move along the inside of your bare thigh. You thanked yourself heavily for wearing the loosest of jogging shorts today. “I’ll start off with an easy one.”

You simply nodded, too afraid that your voice would break if you tried to speak.

“Contents of the hypoglossal canal?” He asked the question as he leaned closer into the table, his eyes turning darker, more carnal.

“Hypoglossal nerve.” You answered quickly, breath stalling in your throat as his fingers pressed further into your skin.

“Good,” He whispered, something sweet in his voice. “But just relax, okay?”

His hand didn’t move, and you could tell it was because he was waiting for your limbs to lose some of their tension. You nodded, taking in a deep breath as you let yourself sink more freely into the chair, before reaching beneath the table to place your hand on top of Yoongi’s.

“My first reward, please?” You said, finally pushing any source of hesitance from your voice.

Yoongi’s grip tightened suddenly, his expression shifting. “Yes, ma’am,” He said, allowing his hand to finally roam.

Your resulted gasp was as silent as you could possibly manage. So deliberate, confident and precise, Yoongi felt his way slowly along the thinness of your shorts. He watched your expression carefully as he searched for the place that would make your blood run hot. He didn’t seem to be in a rush, however, just exploring at his leisure, taking in every twitch that he could illicit from you. But in the end, it was the timely flinch of your knee against his own beneath the table that tipped him off.

“Here?” He asked, smirking now that he had his thumb pressed against something that could cause you to scream out if he applied the proper stimulation. You nodded, bringing your hand up to rest your head against it, but also to have a quick way to muffle any noises that you couldn’t manage to subdue at any time during this… study session. “Okay, what number cranial nerve is that?” He asked, after finally pausing his movements, leaving his hand to rest against your hip with him thumb still snuggly pressed in place.

“Uh… t-twelve.”

“Correct.”

You watched as Yoongi let his other hand slip beneath the table until you felt it rest along the top of one of your knees. Thankfully he seemed to do this with purpose, because the second his thumb caressed along your center one more, your leg twitched, almost slamming itself into the top of the table if not for him applying pressure to keep it anchored to the ground.

“Sorry,” You breathed out in a rushed apology.

“You’re good,” He said as he continued to rub against your shorts. You could already feel the wetness beginning to cling to them, and there’s no doubt that Yoongi could feel it as well. “I’ve got you. Just focus on the answers, okay?”

“Okay.” You didn’t manage a response until he finally stilled, giving you a second to inhale the breath that you hadn’t realized was lodged statically in your throat.  

“Next question: contents of foramen rotundum?”

You actually knew this one as well, but it seemed that Yoongi was intentionally giving you the easy ones since it was highly apparent that you had only been half-studying this entire time, while the other had been completely focused on him.

“Maxillary nerve.”

His expression was stoic as he began his movements once more. You supposed that one of you needed to look that way. After all, you most certainly weren’t exactly doing a great job of being discreet. Your nails dug into the table, your bottom lip indented with the harsh tug of your teeth, your feet pawing at the carpet with each motion of Yoongi’s fingers.

However, even with all of this happening… It didn’t feel like enough. It already felt so nice through your shorts, so you couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like without anything holding him back. Picturing each swipe of his finger over your bare clit was enough to have you biting at the palm of your hand.

“Next question?” He asked, relaxing his hand against you in order to relieve the pressure.

“Yes, but…” You trailed off, not entirely sure of how to ask for what you wanted.

“But? Do you want me to stop?” He sounded concerned, and you could already feel him starting to pull his hand away. But you quickly reached beneath the table, wrapping your hand around his wrist, keeping him in place.

“No, please don’t stop.” This sounded a bit whinier than you had intended, but Yoongi seemed to appreciate it greatly. His expression was smug, and for some reason you found that it made the entire experience more thrilling.

“Tell me what you want then.” His voice was deeper as he said this. And once you again you were consumed with this strange sense of familiarity it. But just as you had decided before, you couldn’t pinpoint it, and you were a bit too busy at the moment to dwell on it.

“Uhm, can I just show you?” You asked, in the tiniest of whispers, but with the way Yoongi’s eyes lit up with intrigue, you knew that he had heard you perfectly clear.

“I have a feeling I already know what it is, but just to save myself from being presumptuous…” He trailed off, and you felt his hand fall limp against your hip. “Show the way.” And so, with your hand still wrapped firmly around Yoongi’s wrist, you urged him further until his touch was guided inside the leg of your shorts, and well, he didn’t need much more direction after that, and your reaction perfectly showed that.

“Yoon—" You quickly slapped your hand over your mouth as Yoongi wasted no name pushing the barrier of your panties to the side, his touch spreading your abundant slickness around with ease. “I-I didn’t even answer the question yet.”

“It’s a freebie,” He grinned, letting his hand fall away slightly. “And seeing how wet you are I don’t think you exactly mind.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. “You’d be correct.”

“Then let’s keep going. What cranial nerve is the maxillary nerve a branch of?”

“Uhm… what was that mnemonic again?” You asked, sliding further into your chair and by consequence (or reward) further into Yoongi’s grasp. “Oh, Oh, Oh, To Touch And Feel Velvet… or something… Olfactory, Optic, Oculomotor, Trochlear — Trigeminal! …Right?”

“It’s To Touch And Feel Very Good Velvet Ah Heaven. But yeah, that’s right,” He chuckled. “But I’ve always found that the one about To Touch And Feel A Girl’s Vagina Ah Heaven, is a lot easier to remember.”

You had never rolled your eyes so fiercely yet amusedly at the same time. “Jesus Christ, are you really making that joke when—” Suddenly the pad of his thumb was pressing down along your heat, the words dissipating on your tongue.

“You were saying?”

“P-prick.”

He shrugged. “Been called worse.”

“Oh, you’re saying someone who offers sexual services to random people they meet at the library has a bit of an edgy side? Shocking.”

“Quite edgy, actually.” You both managed a laugh at this, as his motions against your center had ceased. “Next question?”

“Yup.”

“Let’s see…” Yoongi trailed off, squinting his eyes as he pondered another question. It was in this moment of hesitation that you finally got another moment to just look at him. The way his feline eyes remained so calm as he searched for something to ask you. The fringe of his hair settling outside of his beanie. He looked so casual, as if he wasn’t sitting across from you with his hand down your pants.

“What, hotshot, out of questions already?”

“Looks like someone’s just eager for me to touch them again. See how productive this game can make you?” Yes, you most certainly could see it. In fact, your legs were already starting to twitch in anticipation for the question, which thankfully came soon after. “Contents of the foramen lacerum? Go.”

Shit. “Uhm…”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Yoongi’s expression turned smug, his hand suddenly pulling itself from your shorts, making the most embarrassing of whines leave your throat.

“Next question?” You said, eagerness taking its grip around you.

“Contents of foramen ovale?” He asked this question with a smile, probably because he knew you had no idea.

“Would it be safe to say that, that’s as far as you got in your studies? Mind was too busy thinking about… other things the entire time you’ve been here?”

“C’mon, you can’t just leave me like this.” Your voice was high-pitched and more on the pleading side, which normally would’ve stricken you with embarrassment, but thinking about his fingers on you again had your pride taking a temporary backseat.

“If I touched you even when you didn’t know the answer, then the game wouldn’t work, now would it?”

You pouted, brows furrowing, because of course you knew that he was right… but it didn’t mean you were happy about it. You let your head fall to land in your textbook, hoping that maybe you would just gain the information through osmosis instead. You heard Yoongi’s laughter ringing from above, and you simply grunted in annoyance as you turned to look at him.

“You’re mean.”

“Helping you study and fingering you is mean?”

“Okay, you’re like… a quarter mean.”

“Wow, I’d say three-fourths nice is a pretty good achievement.”

“Wouldn’t you rather be completely nice?” You asked, a bit of hope.

“That’s no fun,” He smirked. You groaned at this, burying your face further into the textbook. What the hell were you supposed to do now? Thankfully you weren’t spiraling in this self-pity for long, however, before Yoongi proposed something. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“What?” You asked, clearly confused as you lifted your head to face him. “Where are you trying to go?”

“I offered coffee, remember?” He was already standing up, shoving his things into his backpack. “And I’m going to help you actually study. No distractions… Well, not until you’re ready to be quizzed again at least.”

“Really? You’ll help me?”

His brows furrowed as he managed a laugh. “What do you think I’ve been doing this entire time?”

“I meant in a way that wasn’t… sexual,” You whispered up at him.

“Yes, I promise. The tables at the coffee shop aren’t nearly as spaced out as these. But if you’d like to try, I’m—”

“I’m good,” You giggled, standing up to playfully bat him across the chest. “Seriously though, thanks for doing this… All of this, I guess.” You could feel your face heating up, which you then thought was rather silly considering everything that just happened between the two of you in such a short span of time.

“Don’t thank me until you’ve passed.” Yoongi rounded the table to join you on the other side. His smile was warm as he pressed his hand into your lower back, ushering you to follow in his stride. “But c’mon, time for you to learn what’s in that pretty head of yours.”

﹍﹎ ﹍﹎ ﹍﹎

“Why are there so many goddamn openings in our heads with so much shit running through all of them?”

“Makes us the high-functioning organisms that we are, so we can in fact question why we have so many goddamn openings in our heads with so much shit running through them.”

You sighed. “Do you have to be so… Level-headed? Can’t you mope with me?”

“Moping is for people who don’t know the contents of the foramen lacerum. Which I do, and you don’t, so my side of the table is unfortunately a no moping zone.” Yoongi simply smiled at your annoyed squint and the pout of your lip. “C’mon, keep studying.”

“Fine,” You sighed, exasperated, as you returned to making your flashcards.

Yoongi ended up taking you to a café located across the street from your campus. It was one that you had never actually been to before, but it was nice, nonetheless. The wooden interior gave it a quaint and homey vibe that allowed you to feel a bit more at ease. Paintings and tapestries hung along the walls, all while the smell of coffee and freshly baked pastries wafted through the air.

The two of you had been here for only twenty minutes or so, but Yoongi was already pestering you to focus. Normally these pressures from friends or others wouldn’t do anything to help tighten your attention span, but a certain promise from Yoongi involving another round of ‘quizzing’ you tomorrow at his apartment helped to fuel your desire to absorb all of this information as quickly as possible. However, even with this newfound motivation, you couldn’t help yourself from taking little breaks here or there. Every couple of minutes or so after searing a new fact into your mind, you would allow yourself a moment to glance at Yoongi, who had also returned to studying.  

You watched the way he bit his bottom lip in concentration as he studied the pages. His fingers skimmed down the textbook as he followed along in order to work through the problem that he had started in his notebook. It was quite amusing actually, seeing him so serious after he had been so playful and teasing earlier. You weren’t sure how long you went on like this, just studying his face as a means of distraction. But it seemed that Yoongi was more perceptive of your actions than you realized because he was suddenly locking eyes with you, a knowing look shining off of them.

“Like something you see?”

“Let’s not pretend like you don’t already know that.”

“How could I not?” He asked, an amused smile playing on his lips. “You’ve been staring at me for the past ten minutes instead of studying. You know the game isn’t gonna go much better than last time if you still don’t know anything.”

You groaned at this, only because you knew he was right of course. “I know, I know—” You started to say, but fell off when your waitress suddenly appeared next to your table, coffees in hand.

“So sorry for the wait,” She said, placing the steaming cups down in front of you.

“No, you’re fine,” You assured her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Please let me know if you guys need anything else.”

You nodded, and then watched as she went to tend to her other tables.

“Think you’ll be able to focus now?” Yoongi asked once you turned your attention back to him.

“Yeah, I’m sorry that I’m being like this,” You said, bringing your coffee up to your lips to blow cooling breaths over it. “I’m usually a lot better focused.”

“No, you’re fine. Sometimes when you know you have a ton of shit to learn, your brain just shuts off before it even has to start.”

“Exactly,” You said before taking a sip of your coffee. “—Gah, bitter.” Your face scrunched up at the unexpected taste, and Yoongi simply laughed at your misery.

“Bitter’s best,” He said, following your lead and taking a sip but seeming to enjoy it a great deal more.

“You’re crazy,” You said as you reached for the packets of sugar sitting on your table. “Sugar?” You asked, offering a packet to him. It was a simple enough gesture, but you watched as his eyes widened suddenly, and he choked on his drink, causing coffee to spill down the sides of his mouth “Oh my god, are you okay?” You reached across the table to pat him on the shoulder, waiting for his coughing to calm.

“Yeah, I’m good,” He said, but he was still coughing a bit.

“Geez, don’t die on me now,” You joked as you grabbed a few napkins to give to him. “You’re my motivator. Can’t have you choking to death.”

After wiping at the coffee that had spilled, he seemed to return to normal. A cheeky smile plastered across his face as he returned his sights to you, eyes shining playfully. “Glad that my body is so… motivating for you.”

“Very,” You said, deciding to indulge him. “But if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to studying now.”

“Oh, now you wanna study?”

“Gotta be ready for round two of my study session with you tomorrow, right? And who knows, maybe I’ll even help you out.” You shot Yoongi a playful wink before returning your attentions back down to your textbook, but not before seeing the intrigue flash across his eyes. “If you’re interested that is,” You said as you began to thumb along the pages.

“Quite interested,” You heard him whisper, a smile clearly heard in his voice.

﹍﹎ ﹍﹎ ﹍﹎

“Fuck okay, what else…” Yoongi trailed off as he kissed his way down the inside of your thigh, sweat dripping down his temple, anticipation for his return to your swollen heat keeping you perfectly paralyzed against his bed sheets. “Contents of the foramen spinosum?”

“Middle meningeal artery and vein, and uhm… the middle meningeal branch of the mandibular nerve.”

You sighed in relief, thankful that you weren’t going to be denied as you had a few times already since this session had begun. You had spent the entirety of yesterday studying and preparing and cramming as much information as you possibly could into your head, so that when you woke the next day and drove to the address that Yoongi had texted you once the two of you had parted ways at the coffee shop, you would be ready for anything that he threw your way. However, still you had already encountered a few inquiries from your stack of flashcards placed carefully next to the two of you, that had slipped your mind. But even with that being said, you were still much more knowledgeable than yesterday, meaning you were being rewarded much, much more.

“Ngh!” Yoongi gave you no warning as he pressed forward, his lips wrapping around and finding their way to your clit with ease. This had already been going on for some time, the slow and steady build of your orgasm rising and rising with each question, only for its fire to be extinguished every time Yoongi pulled away. And this time was certainly no exception as your fingers tugged through his hair as he receded from your center, arousal dripping from his slyly poised lips.

“Mad?” He teased, one hand gliding down your calf as the other grabbed for a flashcard.

“Not mad,” You huffed. “Just frustrated. I could’ve came like twenty minutes ago if you would just keep going.”

“I’m aware,” He chuckled as he leaned over to kiss you. “But if I just let you cum then you wouldn’t have much of an incentive to get the answer right. For example, I bet you’re not gonna forget the contents of the foramen lacerum now that you didn’t get what you want for not knowing it?”

He tilted his head at you in a way that told you to show him that he was right. You rolled your eyes, pouting, but with the correct answer already bubbling to the surface. “Internal carotid artery and internal carotid nerve plexus. Happy?”

“Yeah, and you should be too,” He whispered, nipping at the side of you neck, consequently pulling a sharp inhale towards your lungs. “You got it right. And what happens in this game when you get things right?” You watched his eyes turn dark as he made his way back down your body, head resting between your legs.

“Oh, g-god,” You stuttered, head collapsing back against the bed as Yoongi’s tongue began to caress against your wetness once more. “Just a little bit longer than the other ones, please?” You sounded high-pitched and wrecked, and it was for this reason that he seemed to oblige you. The usual couple of seconds that he had been giving you this entire time for a correct answer turned longer, more deliberate and concentrated as you began to ride your hips against his face. The breath rattled from your throat as you urged him forward by his hair, his satisfied groans making the building pressure in your stomach flare wildly. “I — Yoongi, I’m—” Your words sounded strangled as the pleasure made it difficult for you to string together a coherent sentence. But much to your dismay, that ability was returned to you all too quickly as Yoongi broke away.

“Better?”

You shook your head from side to side. “You don’t understand how close I am.”

“Trust me, I know.” He felt his way down your thighs as if to comfort you a bit, but you didn’t miss the look of pure amusement on his face as he did so.

“Just ask me another damn question.”

He simply grinned to himself as he grabbed for another flashcard. “Contents of the internal acoustic meatus?”

“Internal acoustic meatus? Okay that’s cranial nerve… seven?” You looked up at Yoongi for confirmation who gave you a small nod, but gave a motion to let you know that there was more. “Fuck, what is it? Cranial nerve seven…” You trailed off, bringing your hands up to your temples to try and knead the information out of the recesses of your brain.

“Ah, too bad. Looks like that one’s a bust.”

“Wait!” You exclaimed, grabbing Yoongi’s wrist before he could place the card in the pile of ones that you had gotten wrong. Which to your credit, honestly wasn’t many. But it still pained you seeing a tangible version of all that you could’ve had. “Just give me a second. Internal acoustic meatus: cranial nerve seven… and eight?” You paused, looking to Yoongi for confirmation, which he gave.

“Still one more.”

“One more?” You huffed in defeat because you were perfectly aware that you didn’t know it. “Fuck, whatever, just tell me.”

“Labrynthine artery.”

“What a stupid fucking name for an artery.”

Yoongi snorted in amusement at your clearly escalating frustrations. “Could be said for a lot of medical terminologies,” He said, setting the card down onto the bed. “Probably why I couldn’t keep with it.”

“Yeah, who knows, maybe I’ll be an audio engineer with you next semester.”

“I certainly wouldn’t mind that. Then I’d be studying even when I’m the one doing the giving.”

You smiled. “Yeah, wouldn’t that work out perfectly.”

“Too bad we didn’t take this class together. I’m sure you’d have so much fun edging me.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, brows furrowing. “I’m still going to have fun edging you. You have a test coming up too, right?”

“Shit, maybe I should be nicer to you then.” You both laughed as he leaned over to place soft pecks against the center of your chest as if to smooth over everything. “Ready for the last one?”

“One condition,” You said, running your fingers through the locks of his hair.

“What’s that?” He whispered as he nosed along the side of your face.

“If I get it right then you can’t stop until I cum.”

His motions paused as he brought his head back to look at you. “Rules are you have to get them all. We still have to go through the stack of ones that you got wrong.” He said this, yet you could see the tiniest break in his resolve as he bit contemplatively at his lip.

“Fine, decide after the question — which I will be getting right.”

“Ah, love the confidence.” He leaned back, picking up the final card. “Well I’d hope that you’d get this one right. Contents of the posterior ethmoidal foramen?”

“Thank fuck,” You sighed, already shifting on the bed in anticipation. “Ethmoidal artery, vein and nerve.”

“Correct.” You watched the way Yoongi’s lips tilted mischievously as he readied himself to position himself back between your legs, but before he could you cupped the side of his face, momentarily keeping him in place.

“Please?” You voice was barely that of a whisper, soft as you gave him one final, pleading glance. You could practically see his resolution fade into oblivion. His mouth parted slightly, pupils quaking as he stared back at you. You watched the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed his tenacity down, leaving room for your needs to settle in its place.

Yoongi’s eyes tore down your face, carving a certain animalistic aura into the air. Suddenly his lips were on yours, fiercer than any encounter that you had shared thus far. It made the fading ache in your belly return with full force. His hands pressed hot into your sides as you scratched your nails down his back, desire brimming from both of you until it spilled over in an almost primal craving for one another. Suddenly you felt yourself being flipped over, now straddling his thighs. The change in position was surprising but certainly welcomed. You could now see the way Yoongi’s bare chest flared with each and every breath, his eyes glimmering with lust that rivaled your own.

“C’mere,” He breathed, reaching up to cup your face, urging you back to him. Your tongue parted his lips, encouraging him to take more as the two of you seemingly couldn’t get close enough to each other. He gently teethed down the side of your jaw as your hips began to grind into his hardened cock that was pressing firmly through his pants.

“Fuck, I—” You tried to say.

“—Ride my face.”

Your eyes widened as Yoongi whispered the words against your mouth, the sudden thrill sending a new wave of yearning through your blood. “Really?” You finally responded, almost in disbelief.

“You did good today,” He said, bringing you in for a brief kiss. “Wanna let you cum.”

You felt your skin shiver as the words fanned across your lips.

“Fuck, yes,” Was all you could manage before you were sitting up and placing your knees on either side of Yoongi’s face.

You watched the way he stared up at your dripping heat, hunger lining his eyes as a shaky breath left his chest. “C’mere, baby,” He sighed as his hands found their way to your hips and wasted no time pulling them down to connect his mouth to your wetness.

“Ngh — Yoongi!” You yelled out before you could stop yourself, hands clamoring for balance against the headboard as Yoongi already had his tongue circling your clit. His hands kept you steady, however, his fingers dug into your hips as he urged you to rock against his face. “You’re so g-good.”

The praise had Yoongi groaning and loosening his hold on you. When you tilted your head to the side, you found that he was pushing his pants and boxers down his thighs. His cock was swollen and red as it slapped back against his stomach, and your breath was ragged as you watched him wrap his hand around himself, thumb sliding against the tip.

Seeing him pleasure himself as he relentlessly attended to your aching center made a burning hotness clamor inside of you. Suddenly you were reaching back, curling your fingers around his member so you could take over for him. You felt his breathy sigh against your heat as you began to pump his length. His hand fell on top of yours, tightening your grip to show you the pressure and motion that he liked. “F-fuck, yeah, just like that,” He stuttered once you got it, his hands returning to your hips, guiding you as he rode you along the flat of his tongue.

And you both just kept going like this, basking in the pleasure as your highs were brought closer and closer to their end. Though for you, since you had been on the brink of your orgasm for some time now, it started building much quicker than you had anticipated, now that Yoongi wasn’t holding back.

You felt your stomach start to tighten as the pressure readied itself to snap. Your breath seemingly caught in your throat as the hand not occupied with Yoongi’s cock, reached down to thread itself into his hair.

“Gonna c-cum,” You whispered, voice breaking to pieces as he painted slow but perfect strokes of his tongue against your center.

The sudden release of your high splintered throughout your body, sending shivers down your thighs. You released your grip on Yoongi’s cock as you fell forward, taking hold of the headboard once more to steady your shaking limbs. He didn’t seem to mind, however. He simply picked up where you left off, stroking himself along, all while he continued to lap victoriously at his accomplishments as it ran down your thighs, not stopping until you were pushing him away with overstimulation.

You peered down between your legs, meeting his gaze. It sent another crash of lust through you, staring at his swollen lips and his pupils blown out so wide. You watched as he hissed in pleasure beneath you, and you turned slightly to see that he was still stroking himself along. You were going to offer to finish him, but before you could find the energy to even say the words he was already offering his own resolution.

“Can I cum on your back?” He asked, voice raspy. “Feel free to say no—”

“—Yes.”

You were already moving down, straddling his stomach as you tilted your head to see him start to thrust into his fist. Your brows furrowed, mouth falling slack as you watched him milk himself towards his orgasm much more vigorously now that he had your permission. But the lowly grunts that you could hear beginning to build in his throat made you turn to face him once again. Your breath stuttered in your lungs as you took in the way his neck was bared back, messy bed-head fanning out across the pillow.

“Yeah, keep looking at me,” He hissed out between clenched teeth, his grip finding its way onto your thigh for something to hold onto. Your hand found his way on top of his, squeezing as you felt his stomach start to tense up beneath you as he got closer to reaching his end. “Fuck, Y/N.”

He didn’t last much longer after that, and you marveled as his face contorted in pleasure upon finding his release. It was in that same moment that you gasped at the feeling of his cum suddenly hitting the center of your back. You shivered at the feeling, glancing down to see the heavy rise and fall of Yoongi’s chest as the warmth of his release began to dribble down your skin.

“Here,” Yoongi huffed, guiding you to lay on your stomach next to him. “I’ll get a towel.”

You simply nodded at him before collapsing your head against the bed, mind hazy and exhausted. You honestly could’ve fallen asleep right there, shrouded in the scent of yours and Yoongi’s time together. It was nice for some reason, peaceful even. And this strange feeling only grew further as you felt Yoongi wipe the towel against your back, erasing the path of his seed.

“Thanks,” You mumbled.

“No problem,” He replied after setting the towel down and running his palm down your newly cleaned skin. “Got a bit ahead of ourselves, didn’t we?”

“Happy we did. I needed that.” You smiled, rolling over to cuddle into his side.

“Glad I could be of some assistance,” He chuckled.

You both just laid like that for a while, not saying anything specific, just pointless rambling. But again, it just felt nice. You watched the way his gums appeared anytime he found something particularly endearing, and the way his lips would droop at the corners anytime it wasn’t his turn to speak. You found that there were a lot of things to notice about Min Yoongi in those moments of just laying next to him, allowing your mind not to be shadowed by the stresses of—

“My test,” You groaned as you sat up, because the shadow returned almost as quickly as you had pushed it away, and now it was clouding your mind with guilt of wasting such precious study time. “I gotta go.”

You watched the corners of his mouth transform into a pout as you got off of the bed to pull on your clothes that were scattered across the floor. Once you were finally dressed, he joined your side, trusty flashcards in hand.

“You know all of these. You’re gonna do great.” He said, pressing them into your hand.

You smiled, the gesture making something kick wildly in your chest. “Thanks, Yoongi.”

“Let me know how the test goes tomorrow, okay?” He said as he led you to the doorway.

“If it goes well I’ll let you know. If you don’t hear from me it’s because I’m contemplating becoming an audio engineer.”

Yoongi split into a grin as he backed you up against the wall next to the door. “Well, I’d certainly be okay with helping you study for those classes as well.” And then he was kissing you, the gentlest kiss that the two of you had shared, in fact. It was brief, nothing extra, just the soft press of his lips against yours before he was pulling away.

“Are you secretly hoping I fail now?” You asked jokingly as you reached up to toy with a strand of his hair that was sticking up.

“I would never,” He chuckled as he softly thumbed along your jaw.

The motion felt oddly… right. As if he had done that to you a thousand times. Those types of thoughts were dangerous of course, so you pushed it into a dusty corner of your mind as soon as you registered it. Plus, you had the feeling that if you dwelled in his apartment any longer things would escalate once again, and you still had a ton of things to study for.

“Well, I gotta get outta here,” You said after a few moments.

He seemed to sigh in what you could only describe as disappointment, which admittedly made you feel a bit giddy.

“Okay,” He said, reaching to open the door for you. “Really though, let me know how it goes, yeah?”

“I will,” You smiled, leaning over to give him a quick peck on the lips before stepping over the threshold. “Bye, Yoongi.”

﹍﹎ ﹍﹎ ﹍﹎

“Finally,” You huffed to yourself as you made your way into your room, wasting no time in throwing your things to the side and laying out face first on your bed. With relief and comfort now wrapped around you, you pulled your phone from your pocket, allowing yourself to just enjoy some leisure time now that you didn’t have any tests looming over your head.

It had been two days since your study session with Yoongi and one day since your test. Yesterday after you got home from anatomy, you sent a very brief text to Yoongi, telling him that you thought the test had gone okay, before immediately knocking out and not waking up until you had to leave for class this morning. Since then you guys had been texting casually, nothing too serious, just some heavy flirtation as you tried to distract yourself from checking to see if your grade had been posted every five minutes.

However, it was as if fate knew that needed something more to keep you occupied, because as you were continuing to casually scroll through your phone, a certain notification appeared across the screen: mixtape episode 9 has just been released

“Yes!” You said aloud as you quickly reached for your backpack to retrieve your headphones. Wasting no time, you shoved them into your ears as you pressed down on the notification to take you straight to the episode. The familiar opening danced through your headphones almost immediately.  

“Hello, welcome back to mixtape!” Jay began as enthusiastic as always. “We have a very exciting topic today. Sugar, would you like to remind everyone what it is?”

You heard a heavy sigh filter through the mic. And in hindsight, you should have realized right in that first heady breath why it was so exhilarating, but you decided to let the strangeness linger in the recesses of your head.  

“Today’s topic is…” He trailed off, letting a moment of silence fall between them. “Oh, you’re not gonna interrupt today?” Sugar asked, surprised.

“What can I say? I’ve changed my ways.”

“Uhuh, whatever you say, champ.” Clearly, he was skeptical. “But anyways, today’s topic is—”

“—Sex!”

“Jesus,” You heard him whisper to himself, but you could somehow tell that it was in amusement rather than annoyance. “Why’re you like this?”

“What you get for not believing me,” Jay replied. “But anyways, since no one wants to hear us argue, let’s start with… I don’t know, where do you want to start?”

“Probably the protection part,” Sugar offered.

“Oh yeah. Well, I’m sure you all know this but there’s condoms all over campus. They’re literally free, so there’s like no excuse.”

“They’re at the health center, the gym. Take advantage of all that shit your tuition’s going to, people.”

“Yeah, trust me, you don’t wanna be in that rapid STD testing line at the end of the semester. It’s the most nerve-wracking, suffocating room that you’ll ever be in.”

“Well, you should still get tested every once in a while anyways. But yeah, if you don’t wanna feel like you’re gonna vomit on the floor while you wait, then yeah.”

“You would know,” Jay giggled across the mic.

“This is true,” Sugar admitted. “Freshman mistakes, my friends. But guess who always has a condom on them now?”

“Good to know.”

“But anyways, now that we’ve got that PSA out of the way.”

“Yup, protection, protection, protection,” Jay rattled off the mantra. “Okay, I have something to ask, because I’m genuinely curious since I don’t think we’ve ever talked about this.”

“Oh god, now I’m nervous,” Sugar chuckled, and once you again you felt this strange wave of something wash over you.

You weren’t even sure what the actual feeling itself was. Unease? No, that wasn’t right. Maybe nerves? Maybe you were just projecting your anxiety about your test onto everything. Yeah, maybe that was it.

“Where’s the weirdest place you’ve had sex?” Jay asked, which most certainly caused your attention to be turned back to the podcast.

“Hm,” Sugar hummed as he seemed to ponder the question. “Honestly, I don’t think I have one. Maybe it makes me boring, but I much prefer not being in positions where someone can get a snapshot of my bare ass out in public… Or get arrested for that matter — you know all about that, right, Jay?”

“Really?” Jay scoffed. “You’re gonna bring that up? And for the record, me and that girl were not arrested. We were almost arrested.”

“Because that makes it so much better?”

“I mean in the eyes of the future employers that I’ll be filling job applications out for, yeah.”

“True, but I guess we should explain what the hell we’re even talking about,” Sugar proposed, before continuing. “Basically, Jay here, met a girl at some party that his frat was throwing, and they decided that it would be fun to have sex outside near the bushes and trees, where literally anyone could pass by, which ended up including the cops.”

“Okay first of all,” Jay started, and you could hear him shifting in his seat. “She was the one who said she wanted to have sex in nature or some shit, and obviously I was like what the fuck at first, so I tried telling her how my bedframe was made of wood and wasn’t that nature-y enough, and she said no that wasn’t good enough, and so I just…”

“You just what?” Sugar asked, clearly trying to control his laughter.

“Fine, I’m weak as hell so I agreed, and then we got caught by the cops and ran for our fucking lives, half naked across campus.”

“Riveting.”

“Fuck off.”

“Hey, you expose me on here all the time, had to get a little payback.”

“I guess,” Jay sighed, accepting Sugar’s reasoning.

After that the two men delved into numerous topics involving college sex life. From flippant things such as unrealistic movie portrayals, to all important topics like consent. If was always fascinating to just listen to them speak about things so openly. It let you just forget about stresses for the thirty odd minutes that they spoke for every week. But eventually the conversation did start to wind down, eventually breaking off into tangents here and there. But as you had said before, you didn’t mind this. It was actually really nice to hear how well they riffed off of one another.

And it was at this point, where their talk turned more natural… that the underlying feeling of that certain something returned. It was just something about the way Sugar’s breath hit the mic or the way his laughter bounced through your earbuds. It had always affected you to some degree since you had developed somewhat of an infatuation towards this man with an alias so sweet. But there was something different about this time, something more intense drawing you in.

“Okay, we’re getting to that point where we’re completely off topic, so I guess we should stop here,” Sugar said after he and Jay finished a mini-debate on what the best X-Men superpower was.

“You’re just saying that because you know I’m right, and that Mystique has the best superpower, but whatever.”

“It’s definitely being a telepath, but I’ll let you continue on in this wrong way of life that you’ve chosen to follow.”

“Whatever,” Jay sighed. “But yeah, any closing comments, Sugar?”

“Uhm, not really…” He trailed off, and there was a momentary pause that caused the podcast to have a beat of silence that wasn’t often heard. It made your brows furrow as you waited for him to continue, his slow and steady breath suddenly returning to the microphone, leading a chill down your spine in its wake before he continued. “Just… Just good luck to everyone on their tests and stuff this week,” He paused once more. “…Anatomy or whatever.”

That was when it clicked for you of course, when he had to so obviously spell it out.

“I — are you fucking kidding me!?” You yelled as you ripped your headphones out. Your heart was thundering violently against your chest as everything started to replay itself inside of your head. The breaths, the laughter, the words, the voice. That strange familiarity that you had written off as nothing at the library when you had first heard him speak. The weird vibe that you just couldn’t shake when the podcast started and his breathy sigh sounded so much more lively than it ever had before.

Suddenly that something emotion that you hadn’t been able to pinpoint as it pressed against your chest dissolved. That airy warmth that had been bubbling in the pit of your stomach every time that he had laughed this episode, it was all replaced by you feeling like a complete idiot for not realizing something so obvious that had been right in front of your face and literally playing through your ears.  

Before you knew it, you were out of bed, car keys already being grabbed off of your dresser. “This kid,” You whispered, a grin plastered across your face.

Your fist came down on the door, some sort of adrenaline running through you as you waited for him to answer. How could you not have seen it? —Or perhaps heard was a more accurate term. But you weren’t mad that he hadn’t told you even though he clearly knew that you were a fan of mixtape. You were simply stunned that you hadn’t realized who he was sooner. You had heard his voice, laughter… everything, filter through your headphones a million times and yet you didn’t even notice when he was right in front of you.

And then suddenly he was again. The door opened, and there he was, not seeming surprised in the slightest to see you.

“Y/N,” Yoongi started, smiling as he pulled you inside his apartment. “You… heard I’m assuming?”

“Hm, I don’t know, should I call you Yoongi or Sugar from now on?” You asked, bringing your hand up to your chin to convey some playful uncertainty.

He chuckled, leaning down to press his forehead to yours. “You can call me whatever you want.” And then he was kissing you, pressing you into the wall just as he had done a few days prior, his smile pressing firmly into your lips. You giggled, making the interaction a jumbled, laughter-infused mess before you finally broke away.

“Wow, this is so weird,” You said as you circled your arms around Yoongi’s neck while he did the same to your waist. “I listen to you every week. How the hell couldn’t I tell that it was you?”

“Sometimes it’s hard to match a voice to a face when you’re only used to just being able to hear it.” He shrugged as if it were the most casual thing in the world. But really, it wasn’t the biggest deal. It was just… wild, for lack of a better word.

“Yeah, clearly.”

“You’re not mad, right?” He asked. “That I knew you listened to mixtape but still didn’t tell you who I was?”

“No, not at all,” You said, shaking your head. “You just met me. I wouldn’t expect you to just go and reveal one of your biggest secrets like that.”

He seemed relieved at that. “Good, I just thought you might be mad at me or something.”

“Promise I’m not mad at all,” You said, giving him a quick peck for good measure. “But really, you did only just meet me, so why’d you let me know that it was you?”

After all, Yoongi could have just kept this information to himself, and you never would have known. Sure, you felt that Sugar had sounded a bit more familiar while listening to the new episode earlier, but if not for him sliding that comment about your anatomy test into it, you probably never would’ve figured it out that he was Yoongi.

“I don’t know, to be honest,” He said, looking genuinely unsure of his reasoning. “I just had a really good time with you the past few days. And you know, even if it’s just as friends, I’d still like to hang out with you a lot after this. Everyone close to me knows that I’m Sugar from mixtape, so it just… felt right to tell you, even though we haven’t known each other that long. Is that weird?” He laughed, and you could see the slight flush of color that was congregating on his cheeks as he said it.

“No, it’s not weird at all. I liked hanging out with you a lot, even when we weren’t… You know…” You trailed off, hiding your face in his shoulder.

“Same,” He said simply, making you both laugh.

“For someone who’s on a podcast you’re not very good at expressing yourself.”

“Well, why do you think I’m the sarcastic asshole of the show?” He shrugged. “I’m not good at expressing myself.”

“I don’t know, you were pretty good just now. What was that bit you said about even if we’re just friends?” You asked, gaining a mischievous grin as his face flushed redder.

“You’re terrible,” He joked, scratching awkwardly at his jaw. “But I mean I guess I would like to hang out with you and not have to quiz you on the contents of the skull… On like a date, maybe?”

Again, you felt that flare of something warm and inviting vibrate throughout your chest.

“I… I would really like that, Yoongi.”

He smiled, sighing in relief at your answer. You had no idea why he thought even for a second that you would say no, but it was cute to see nonetheless. You were about to ask what sort of places he liked to go on dates, but before you could, the ping of your cell-phone interrupted. You pulled it from your pocket and when you saw the notification, your heart dropped about ten levels.

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi asked, hands settling their way onto your shoulders as he clearly could see the shift in your expression.

“It says my anatomy test was graded.” You tried to swallow the dryness from your throat as you unlocked your phone and clicked on the notification, but you made sure to look away before it loaded, not sure if you were ready to see. “I feel like I’m gonna vomit.”

“Hey, hey,” Yoongi whispered. “Whatever you got, it’s gonna be all right. We’ll just study harder for the next test.”

“We?” You laughed, amused by his insinuation.

“Doesn’t have to be that kind of studying… But if you want.” He shrugged, grinning down at you as he did so. “Really though, it’ll be alright. Just see what you got, and we’ll go from there, yeah?”

You nodded, thankful for his encouragement as you breathed out a heavy sigh, trying to expel any negativity that was sitting stagnant inside of you. You were nervous, gripping your phone tightly for a few seconds before finally gaining the courage to look. You tilted your phone away from your chest, and right there on the screen, the percentage flashed back at you, causing you to nearly drop your phone to the ground in shock.

“Oh my god,” You whispered in disbelief as you continued to stare at it, as if to make sure that it wouldn’t disappear.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Yoongi asked, eyes wide and nervous.

“N-nothing. I…” You paused for a second, the phrase catching in your throat a few times before you could finally get it out. “I set the curve.”

“What!?” Yoongi exclaimed, smile beaming.

“I set the fucking curve! I got a hundred!” You screamed jumping up and down, your excitement impossible to contain as you began yanking Yoongi’s shirt along with you. “I can’t believe this!”

“I was literally sweating, and it wasn’t even my test,” He sighed, almost in more relief than you had.

“Well, you did put a lot of effort into it.”

“Much effort, but nothing I didn’t thoroughly enjoy.” Yoongi grinned as he pulled you closer and began peppering his way down the side of your neck, prompting a flash of heat throughout your limbs.

“How about a celebration round then?” You whispered as your hands wandered down his shirt and all the way to the top of his jeans. You could hear the lowly growl building in his throat as he pressed further into your hand.

“Fuck, yes—”

But suddenly there was a loud knock that boomed against Yoongi’s door making you almost jump out of your skin.

“Yoongi!” The person on the other side yelled, voice loud and bombastic as it cut through the air.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Yoongi mumbled to himself.

“Who’s that—” You tried to ask, but before you could finish the stranger on the other side was already starting up again.

“Open up! I have an idea for next week’s episode!”

Your brow’s furrowed at this. “Episode?” You questioned aloud.

“Meet Hoseok,” Yoongi said with an almost tired sigh, motioning towards the door. “Or Jay as you probably know him better as.”

“Oh my god, that’s Jay?” You asked, clearly amused as he continued to bang on the door relentlessly. “Wow, thought that whole interrupting thing was just a played-up bit for the show,” You admitted.

“I wish it was played-up. Hoseok, interrupts every aspect of my life, not just podcast related things.”

“Interesting duo, you two.”

“Guess that’s why people like to hear us talk about nonsense,” Yoongi shrugged. “But I know how to get rid of him. Would you mind helping me?”

“Depends what it is,” You replied, interested to see what it was that he needed your assistance for.

“Well, it involves something… semi-sexual.” Your brows raised at this, intrigue growing higher. “Do you mind… hair pulling?”

Just the question itself had you fighting off the need to strip off your clothes. “N-not at all,” You managed to stutter.

Yoongi looked satisfied with this as he placed his hand along the back of your neck, palm flat as he threaded his fingers through your strands. You then watched as he brought his other hand down the front of your leggings, instantly having his fingers pressed ever so lightly against your slick heat. You weren’t really sure what the point of this was, or how it had anything to do with Hoseok, but it wasn’t as if you minded either. But then Hoseok was speaking again, as Yoongi knew that he would, you presumed.

“Your car’s out front. I know you’re in there, probably sleeping—”

You watched as Yoongi turned to face you, giving you the slightest of indications before you felt his hand tighten around your hair as he slid the warmth of his tongue along your neck in a way that had you keening. His palm that was still pressed to your center began to move, leaving your knees-weak. With all of this together you couldn’t help the moan that slipped past your lips, bouncing along the walls and most certainly through the door.

“Oh shit, my bad, dude,” Hoseok said, and suddenly his knocking stopped. “Catch you later.”

And it was that simple.

You felt Yoongi start to loosen his grip on your hair and pull his hand from your pants once Hoseok signaled his departure, but you quickly halted his motions, placing your hands on top of his before he could get too far. His eyes glimmered with something as you did so, a certain thrill seeming to electrify the air between the two of you.

“So about that condom that you always have on you?”

[brett-buckner-the-dirt]

“Quietly, I pushed the bedroom door open, expecting to see Samara oozing out from a sleeping bag like a mucus-covered grub worm, whispering SEVEN DAYS over and over again. Instead, I was confronted with a video for more horrific than any of the VHS clips from The Ring.”

It was a voice that pulled me from a restless sleep. It was soft and gentle – almost motherly.

At first, I thought it was a nightmare that woke me up … something about camping with a mumbling pink-haired teenager who shared in agonizing detail, every single thought that ran through her head; like someone had shoved a microphone in her brain, giving volume to her inner monologue.

“I’ve been listening to way too many podcasts,” I said to no one, save for the dog snoring in the darkness.

Plus, there was lots of tapping, like fake fingernails on aluminum.

My room is noisy at night. A notoriously light sleeper, I employ a cacophony to help me fall asleep and stay asleep. I’ve got a noise machine set rainstorm – complete with thunder – and my TV’s set on a timer to Forensic Files. I can’t hear it, but I can watch it. I also rely on a heroic dose of melatonin, all with varying degrees of success.

Yet something caused me to stir, and it wasn’t a dream. It was 2:28 a.m. Still groggy, I turned off all my devices, and lay in silence, watching the shadows dance across the wall animated by the TV flickering in Jellybean’s room.

Just as I was about to nod off, chalking the whole mess up to an overactive, horror movie-fueled imagination, I heard it again – the whispering followed by light tapping or scratching.

I could practically see little Danny Glick from Salem’s Lot. He was a newly reborn kid vampire, floating outside his best friend’s bedroom, enveloped in fog and still in his pajamas, pleading to be let in by scratching at the window.

I was seriously creeping myself out.

This is what happens when your world view is mostly informed by horror movies. And like the bimbo in a slasher flick, I went to investigate the disembodied voice. The closer I got to Jellybean’s room, the clearer the voice became. It was like hearing one side of a secret conversation.

“When did you get to the campgrounds? Yesterday? … I admire that you’ve been here longer. Have you hit the hot springs?”

I was all about busting in there, ready to catch her talking on the phone to some boy when she was supposed to be asleep. Then I realized, Jellybean was 11 years old. She didn’t like boys, let alone talk to them. She didn’t have a phone, and this wasn’t 1988, when kids actually talked on the phone.

Quietly, I pushed the bedroom door open, expecting to see Samara oozing out from a sleeping bag like a mucus-covered grub worm, whispering SEVEN DAYS over and over again. Instead, I was confronted with a video for more horrific than any of the VHS clips from The Ring.

It was ASMR.

ASMR is the latest craze to sweep across the intellectual cesspool that is YouTube.

“Autonomous sensory meridian response, commonly referred as ASMR, is an experience characterized by a static-like or tingling sensation on the skin that typically begins on the scalp and moves down the back of the neck and upper spine. It has been compared with auditory-tactile synesthesia and may overlap with frisson.”

That’s a Wikipedia way of saying, ASMR is supposed to be like a brain massage.

Nope. That doesn’t begin to describe how freakin’ weird it is, especially when it’s poisoning your dreams like Freddy Kreuger on Open Mic Night. 

ASMR on YouTube is creepier than Momo popping up in an episode of Peppa Pig and makes as much sense as eating Tide Pods or snorting condoms.

But unlike those Internet hoaxes (Sorry Facebook worry warts, Momo is not trying to kill your children. None of those things were actual concerns until moral crusaders turned them into the latest version of Satanic Panic), ASMR is real, and Jellybean is obsessed with it.

As a side note, Jellybean, whose never seen an actual Momo video, astutely pointed out that Momo looks just like Shelly Duvall as Wendy Torrance in The Shining.

Mingling alongside parodies of Ariana Grande’s 7 Rings, 24 Hours spent in a Hot Tub Challenges, Avril Lavigne is Dead conspiracies and Most Savage Texts Ever videos are those dedicated to ASMR.

Here is an honest to God list straight from Jellybean’s YouTube viewing history, of some of the ASMR videos she’s incorporated into her bedtime routine:

ASMR – Lice Check

ASMR – Opening a Checking Account

ASMR – Mommy Cleans Your Ears

ASMR – Relaxing Hair Color Changing

ASMR – Dreaming Tattoo Parlor

I haven’t seen so many fetish videos this side of Pornhub.

Listening to these – for research purposes – with my eyes closed, I imagined Bob Ross – he of the “little trees” painting tutorials – talking over my shoulder, whispering a bedtime story, his beard tickling my ear.

I jump up screaming.

Jellybean swears AMSR videos are relaxing, but the damn things weird me out.

It’s not just at night where these videos creep in. Jellybean now ASMRs everything. We go to the bookstore and she’s flipping book pages by her ear. At the movies, she’s squeezing a Twizzlers wrapper, and at home … Sweet Baby Christmas, save me from zippers and Velcro!

I do find a sad comfort in the fact that Jellybean’s not alone in her obsession.

There are currently about 5.2 million ASMR videos on YouTube with YouTube searches for ASMR having grown more than 200 percent since 2015. On its own, a top ASMR video can attract over 16 million views, according to Google Trends.

16,000,000.

ASMRtists (Yep, that’s what they call themselves) use props, especially food products, to create the tingly effect – crinkling wrappers, chewing candy, cracking open cans. (A search for “beer ASMR” on YouTube returned more than 81,000 results … just sayin’.)

Sure, I don’t have to watch them and can easily ignore the tapping and whispering. But like a big, fat, hairy spider crawling across the ceiling in the next room, I know it’s there.

I could pull a Nancy Reagan and “just say no” to ASMR, demanding Jellybean find something else soothing to watch before bed. But unlike crack, there’s nothing exactly wrong with ASMR, other than annoying me.

Come to think of it, so does Flossing, face tattoos, gender reveal parties, ripped jeans, kale, and Logan Paul. Since those are all still a thing, I’ll just take ASMR like a shot of Goldschläger – grit my teeth, blink back the tears and wait for the nausea to pass.

There are worse things than being awoken by a teenager whispering about camping … actually going camping.

                My ASMR Nightmare (and soon it’ll be yours) "Quietly, I pushed the bedroom door open, expecting to see Samara oozing out from a sleeping bag like a mucus-covered grub worm, whispering…