#Top 5 Laptop Brands

[m-ilkiee]

Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa

Chapter 1: Warning Signals

series summary: your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. and now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.

chapter summary: being friends with Emma Sano is nice, until you get on the wrong side of the Sano brothers.

content warning: DARK CONTENT, NSFW, misogyny, alcohol/drug use, brief mention of violence, religious and purity culture themes, classism, slutshaming, p*rn mention, sexual assault, noncon, public initimacy, fingering (fem recieving), dacryphilia, gaslighting, manipulation, mention of vomitting, victim blaming.

r-18+ (not suitable for 17 and under)

word count: 10.1k words

note: this chapter has been edited and the storyline shifted to the original plan for the series. consequent chapters 2-5 will follow suit and vastly vary from the og series i posted before.

masterlist||chapter2||taglist

KNOWING how big both the TENJIKU and TOMAN fraternities were on campus, it was a bit awkward being friends with the youngest sister of two of the most popular guys in this school.

Any where you two went, she would always be the center of attention. You didn't really mind being in her shadow because as long as you have her, you’ll be fine. People called you a lost puppy, riding on Emma’s cocktails just to get by in university.

They didn’t know how you both have self-care days where you would paint your nails, wear facial masks and watch “Mean Girls” or “Clueless” on her laptop because you weren’t allowed to watch it when you were young. Or how the both of you always have study dates with hot coffee and exchanging annotated notes so that you both remain at the top of your game. They don’t know about the secrets you both share and the trust you both have for each other.

You don’t have to explain anything to anyone.

Emma is a pretty satisfied girl. Her college tuition is paid for in full and her time here has always been smooth. As far as you knew, she grew up being loved by all three of her brothers and they doted on her to the point she thinks they spoiled her.

-You don’t think they spoiled her -okay maybe a little with the way she spends money, but everyone has a vice. Right?

You could tell she knew what familial love is with how sweet and kind she was to you when you opened up about your family troubles.

The only issue is that her two brothers, Mikey and Izana, have been at each other's necks for some years now. Mostly Izana inciting violence at Mikey and Mikey retailiating; it’s the number one concern in the Sano household the way those two fight and argue.

From what Emma told you, Izana’s provocative nature was the gasoline to Mikey’s volatile mental state, akin to fire. Even the littlest of things that no one would bat an eye for could incite a bloody brawl between them. And as they grew older, more people were involved in their petty rivalry, since neither Emma nor Shinichiro agreed to take their side.

Despite the looming hostility, Mikey decided to throw in the towel and agree for a truce. At first, Emma couldn’t believe it. Until two weeks had passed and they hadn’t fought.

"They haven't gotten along at a stretch like this, I tell ya!" Emma had said excitedly while selecting what she would wear that day. You let out a small smile as she tossed multiple clothes on her large bed. Being the youngest had its perks, like how her oldest brother, Shinichiro paid for her to have the biggest room in one of the dorms all to herself.

You heard that on the front, he had one of the biggest Motorcycle brands and behind all of that, his real business was handling the black dragons, one of the biggest gangs in Japan.

You wonder how Emma feels about her brothers' lifestyle, but judging from her huge wardrobe and expensive jewelry, you don't think it bothers her too much.

Not like you cared either. To you, she was just Emma. Nothing more or less.

The blonde haired girl swiftly turns to you with two options in her hand, a pink sequined dress and a white halter crop top and a pink mini skirt with ruffles at the bottom. "I need to look really good today, which one says 'I'm so happy my brothers are not at each other's necks for once?' " She asked animatedly.

You've never seen her this happy since you met her, unless Draken was involved and somehow it made you happier too. It must be nice to be so close to your family members all the time and be able to mend your relationship with them.

You've never had that. You don't think of your family much. You don't wish to either, ever since your father cursed you out for rejecting a marriage proposal from one of his friends to pursue higher education and your mother stayed quiet, complicit -all the while silently seething that all her training went down the drain. The first time you ever went against their old fashioned ideals after years of obedience was met with immediate punishment.

Ironic.

You don’t regret it, though. Because you wouldn’t have met Emma.

"The second one is a better choice." You said with a smile, gazing at her with adoration in your eyes. “The skirt ruffles makes your legs look good. Pair it with the white strap heels and you’re good.”

The blonde broke out into a wider grin, the clothes pooling at her sides as she rested a hand on her hips. “Look at you giving me fashion advice.” She teased lightheartedly. “I feel like a proud mother growing up!”

“I learned from the best.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence and you take that time to admire her. You’ve always thought Emma was gorgeous, from her bright smile, to the twinkling of her eyes when she’s mischievous, to her enthusiasm for life in general. It was a no-brainer that guys would gravitate towards Emma and try their luck into dating her. Eventually the threat of her brothers or the threat of her equally terrifying friends with benefits who just happened to be the vice president of Toman, Ken Ryugi, would be enough to back off.

You wished you were as likeable and as beautiful as she was. You were always too shy to do anything or talk to people, let alone guys that you liked.

“So have you picked your outfit for the party?”

You’re snapped out of the trance-like state to see Emma standing in front of you, her body so close, you could smell her vivienne westwood. “Me?” You asked her, your tone laced with confusion. “I don’t think I’m gonna go.”

“And why is that?”

You paused, trying to organize your thoughts on how to break this to her without ruining her mood tonight. “I don’t think…” you took a deep breath before saying. “Your brothers would want me there.”

There’s a shift in her look, so minor but you could pick out the way her smile faltered. You both knew that her brothers could be… weird around you. It was something Emma couldn’t understand for the life of her.

Izana was usually very displeased with your presence and makes it very well known he doesn't want you there with snide remarks and forgetting your own order. His friends, for the fear of him, wouldn't speak to you either. It took Emma angrily yelling at him for him to be civil towards you. But the second she turned her back, Izana would go back to his usual self, being rude and peppering it with little acts of violence like pushing your hand so that your drink spilled all over the floor and even pushed your laptop bag to the ground, destroying the device you saved money to buy for months.

Mikey was on the other end of the spectrum. He would ignore your very presence and talk to everyone else but you and the rest followed suit. You’ve tried to at least make small talk with him, anything but he would talk over you. You heard from other people that he’s the nice brother and he’s usually so easy going- you’ve seen it with your very eyes the way he interacts with Emma’s other friends, Hinata and Senju.

And it hurts you. You’ve had a crush on him for so long, longer than you even knew Emma, so you don’t understand why he’s acting so differently with you. Seeing him talk with other girls sweetly makes you green with envy, wishing that it was you. Craving for just a piece of his attention.

Maybe he just doesn't like shy girls.

Only some guy named Takemitchi would try and explain that they don't hate you. It was surprising, considering that you knew people like Hakkai - whom you attended the same confirmation class and high school with- and even he made no effort to at least speak with you whenever you came to the frat house or met on the road.

You stopped bothering to make either of the Sano brothers like you, so long as they let Emma keep hanging out with you. It was obvious that they hold some animosity for you when you’ve done nothing to them.

“Nonsense!”

Before you could say anything, Emma pulled you up by your arm and dragged you off the bed towards her closet. “That’s a load of bullshit. There’s no way I’m leaving my best friend to rot in her room when there’s a Sano party going on.”

“But-”

“Nope!” She cut you off stubbornly, before pulling out some clothes from her closet, trying to match them with your skin tone. Satisfied with the outfit she picked, she puts the clothes in your arms and practically shoves you into her bathroom.

“EMMA-”

“Don’t Emma me, (name). You’re going to take a shower and by the time you’re out, I should be back with a makeup kit that suits you.” You tried to speak again but she silenced you by pressing a finger on your lips. “We’re going to be the hottest girls at that party, whether they like it or not.”

“But these look very short-”

“Sorry, can’t hear you, bye!”

You sighed when Emma shut the bathroom door in your face, locking it so that you would do what she said.

There was no winning with Emma when she made her mind up. Might as well follow through with it.

YOU had no idea how big this party would be.

You've come to the Toman frat house before with Emma to see Mikey and Draken once, and admired how large and spacious the three story building was. Now imagine that large of a space being cramped up with nearly the whole school's population.

Somewhat, you’re grateful that the outfit Emma lent you was as short as it was. The house was so hot, you could faint from how stuffy it was.

You hold on tightly onto Emma's hand, intertwined with each other as the both of you push through the big crowd, ignoring the sweaty, drunk students as you headed for the stairs. She, being used to parties like this, was able to navigate through the raging crowd with some form of ease.

After a few more squeezes, you both finally make it to the stairs.

As you both climbed up, you could see different people, all having fun in their own way. You're rarely invited to parties, so this was still more of a nouveau experience for you. A girl is asking for a light, a tiny blunt in between her teeth until another person lights it up for her. You see some guy shotgunning another girl, before melting into a hot kiss, tongue melding with each other. Someone else is drowning shot after shot and a couple is practically dry humping for everyone to see, a poor excuse to dance with the music.

The obscene sight surprisingly doesn’t disgust you, knowing your background, it just makes you curious. How would it feel to try one of those things? Smoking? Drinking? Making out with someone? Emma had told you about her own experiences; as long as you took it easy, it could be fun. Her first time with anything was with Draken and he was always gentle with her, plus her brothers were fine with it, even making sure whatever she took wasn’t laced with anything.

However, you were taught differently. That your body is a temple that you should keep clean for God and doing any of these things will sully you.

You didn’t believe that as much as you did when you were younger, but you didn’t want to test your luck either in case it ended up being true. Besides, you would look like a complete moron if you tried anything with them.

You tried as much as possible not to make it obvious that you're staring, but that failed when you caught the attention of a tall silhouette smoking. Sharp golden eyes stared you down and you instantly looked away, not wanting to get in trouble with some random guy.

You've heard rumors about Toman or Tenjiku guys absolutely beating anyone up for just staring at them wrong. You don't want to be victim number seventy-five this year.

Finally, you both reached your destination; a room on the second floor where Mikey had asked Emma to meet him. The ground floor was always the place where non-members stayed, trashed and partied. The first is accessible to all members of Toman (and now, Tenjiku) to hang out, have a private party and smoke. The second floor is only for executives and their girls or sisters.

You're a bit worried for yourself as Emma spoke to the person guarding the door. Mikey never said YOU could come along with Emma. You're no executive. You're no girlfriend of their executives and you are definitely not related to any of them. You had told Emma to leave you on the ground floor but she insisted that no one would be angry with your presence.

You've suspected that Emma has been trying to hook you up with someone in either of the fraternities. She was always insistent that you at least get to know them.

"(Name) come on."

Without waiting for your protest, Emma yanked you into the rather pristine room that housed the executives. Your eyes drank in the sight briefly, thanking God that it wasn't filthy or smelly as you had imagined it. The execs were all playing a game of poker, with an orange haired girl -Hinata Tachibana, his girlfriend, perched on Takemitchi's lap, laughing at his bad luck.

Emma's eyes quickly scanned around the room for a brief moment until she saw her two brothers sitting side by side, both engrossed in the game. Mikey’s blonde hair is tousled, like he’s been running his hand through it repeatedly. His baggy white shirt is unbuttoned half way and slips down his shoulder, revealing a black tank top and large jean trousers. Izana is different, white hair falling across his handsome face, leather jacket discarded on the back rest of the chair, leaving him in only a tight red shirt and tighter leather jeans, various chains and accessories hanging from his neck. Two earrings dangle from his ears- you can’t remember the name or significance.

‘They’re really good looking. Really-’

Without a warning, she lets go of your poor arm and jumps on top of Mikey and Izana, tackling them into a hug. Cards fly as she squeezes them hard, to which they discard their initial anger of losing their deck and hugging her back.

"Emma, next time give us a warning, will you?" Mikey pouted. You thought it looked cute, but immediately discarded that stupid thought. The guy hates your guts, don’t think he’s hot. "You ruined my game."

"As if you weren't losing dipshit." Izana teased, his face more relaxed than you’re used to seeing. "She did you a favor. You were down to 100 chips."

"You were down to 50. Who's the loser?"

"Still you."

You could see a smile tug at the corner of her lips lift up as she stands up. "Finally glad that two of you aren't strangling each other for once." She said triumphantly, hands on her hips. Her voice has a pep to it. "Last time both of you were in the same room, it didn't end well."

"Doesn't mean I'm not thinking about it." Izana scoffed. Suddenly, his purple eyes left his sister's face and trailed onto you who just stood a few feet away, awkwardly. You watched in real time as his smile fell, his features darkening the moment he locked gazes with you.

Dear God.

"What is SHE doing here?"

His harsh tone made everyone in the room shift their attention towards you. Your blood ran hot with embarrassment, feeling Izana’s purple eyes scan you up and down in disgust while everyone else just looks at you. Mikey’s gaze burned holes into you as well, silently asking you what the fuck you were doing here.

It was obvious. They never wanted you here. This entire thing was a mistake from the beginning.

"I-I'm glad I could walk with you all the way here, Emma" you stuttered, lying through your teeth. You didn't like the way both brothers were staring at you, like they could walk over to you and wring your neck at any moment. "I'll go join the party downstairs now, so I guess I'll see you soon-"

Pulling away from her brothers abruptly, the blonde girl rushed over to you and grabbed your arm, halting your attempt at running away as she dragged you back in place. You cursed underneath your breath at Emma’s desperate attempt to try to get you to stay.

“Hold on, now (name). I’ll talk to them” Emma whispered reassuringly, before turning to her brothers and increasing her voice in full volume. "She's here with me, is there a problem?”

There was a tense silence in the room as everyone stared at you. Mikey's tone was ice cold as he directed his angry gaze at you, dark eyes scanning down your body. You shuddered when his gaze settled on your legs just briefly before snapping back at Emma’s face.

"Emma. When I sent you that text, I specifically said you should come ALONE."

You felt your heart twist in your chest at the emphasis of that word from none other than Mikey. He really hated you.

"Come on Mikey. This is ridiculous." Emma plead your case. You don't realize you're shaking until your friend squeezed your hand gently in an attempt to calm you down and you squeezed back, wanting this to be over as soon as possible. "Why would I leave her downstairs?"

"Because that’s where all the beggars like her stay."

Your eyes widened the second the words left his mouth, Emma following suit at his words. The shock was soon replaced by embarrassment as Izana looked at you with a devious smile on his face, continuing his verbal assault. "What? I was just making an astute observation. You did say she was poor, so am I really wrong?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you Izana-”

“Wait-” Mikey cuts in again, holding a hand to silence her, his eyes fixated onto your outfit, the wheels in his brain turning as he scanned your clothes from head to toe. You suddenly felt naked in the simple white top and jean skirt you wore, as he actually looked at you properly for the first time.

Your shyness is quickly short lived as his facial expression morphed from one of neutrality to nothing but pure rage.

“Is that the jean skirt I bought for you, Emma?”

Your heart dropped at how loud he barked, completely silencing everybody in the room. All eyes fell on you now, putting you at the center stage of attention. Emma quickly pushed you behind her, trying to shield you from their staring the moment she realized what was about to happen.

“Mikey, wait, I was the one who insisted she should wear it, not her.” Emma started to explain, her tone apologetic. “She had nothing to wear and i gave her those since you complained she dressed like a nun-”

“So you decided to dress her up like a cheap hooker instead?” Izana scoffed nonchalantly, his eyes flickering over to your outfit. “You know your clothes looks so cheap and washed out on her. She looks like she stands on the streets and asks for sex in exchange for money.”

"Izana!”

Emma started to reprimand her brother when Mikey cut in again to join Izana in practically insulting you. “Come on Emma, look at your friend. One wrong move and she’ll flash her panties. Don’t you think she’s looking a bit too desperate?”

Your hand flies to the edge of your skirt, dragging it down to try and cover up your legs as the gazes of the men leering at your legs. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Mikey, who is quick to point it out. “See? Even your friend knows she looks like a hooker. She’s trying to pull your skirt down because she knows she’s guilty...”

Each word seemed to stab you in the heart multiple times. You quickly averted your eyes to the ground as he continued to berate you about your looks, tearing down your confidence bit by bit with each word until you're reduced into nothing but nerves and silent tears. Everyone was staring at you now, scrutinizing gazes drinking in the sight of your exposed flesh, snickering quietly.

Unwanted attention.

"Next time, she shouldn't dress like this if she wants to tag along with you…"

“THAT IS ENOUGH."

Emma’s voice rang through the entire room, anger evident in her tone. The two brothers sat there in silence, stunned at the kind of tone Emma had just used on them right now, as if they’ve never heard or seen her this angry in their life before. You could feel her tremble violently, her grip on your hand tightening as fury radiated from her body.

You were sure she’s holding back things to say with how badly she is shaking. Like she doesn’t want to say anything that she might regret saying. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it immediately, as if biting her words back.

"We're leaving."

“EMMA-”

“Oh come ON-”

Emma threw an arm around you and guided you out of the room amidst her brothers yelling at her to come back. Your friend is gentle with you, hiding your teary face from prying eyes as she leads you through the stairs. The loud music was enough to mask your uncontrolled sobbing, but it didn’t stop people with prying eyes from turning their gazes towards you, wondering what the hell happened to you.

You had never felt this embarrassed in your life. As much as Emma tried to comfort you on your way to her room, their words kept on reverberating in your head. You knew how hard it was to get out of that mindset and now, every confidence you worked for, has crashed down like a pile of cards. Even the way they looked at you made you feel so sick to your stomach.

You've been drilled into as a young child that you're dressed the way you're addressed and because of that, you have always made sure you looked modest enough. You were used to your brothers calling innocent girls whores because of what they wore, that they were asking for it.

And now witnessing it first hand just made you feel so dirty. From the way they looked at you, to how they spoke about your body. It made you ill to the core.

You’ve never been so humiliated in your life.

The two of you managed to walk back to Emma's room, since hers was closer. Her phone never stopped buzzing all through your journey, even when you got back to her room. You could see the pain in her eyes as she ignored each call, only worsening your guilt. You wished you had stayed back in the dorms instead of ruining her night; she was supposed to be having fun, not walking you back to your room prematurely because you couldn’t take criticism.

"You should pic-"

"No (name)." Emma was quick to assert as she helped you lay down on her queen sized bed, the soft surface. "You don't need to feel pity for them, you're the one they hurt, not the other way around."

You wanted to protest when she fell on the bed beside you, yanking her covers over you both and encasing you in a hug. "You don't have to worry about them. I just want you to feel better." She whispered in your ears, rubbing your back gently. "You looked good tonight."

You could only nod in response at Emma's affirmation, wanting to so badly believe her. You want to believe what Emma thinks about you but you just can’t when you feel like abject filth. Your lips began to wobble, tears rolling down your cheeks once again as their words rang in your ears.

Months of unpacking that trauma, flushed down the drain by a single action.

Emma didn't say anything in response to your fresh tears, she only hugged you tight and rubbed circles on your back to soothe you until you cried yourself to sleep.

   “YOU implied that she’s a fucking prostitute Mikey, what the hell did I misunderstand?”

You woke up with a start on hearing Emma’s harsh tone echo throughout the room.

You opened your eyes groggily, rolling the covers down a little bit to see what was going on. She was standing at the open door, changed into her pink nightgown, her hair cascading down her shoulder as she argued with someone in the hallways. You push the covers a little further to see who she was talking to, catching a glimpse of a blond haired male standing in the hallways, blocking the only source of light filtering into the room with his body.

“Don’t yell at me, I’m still your older brother.”

‘Mikey?’

You perk up at his voice, instantly awake hearing his irritated tone. What was Mikey even doing in the female dorms by this time of the night? You glance at Emma’s sanrio clock on her nightstand that reads 00:00am. By now, no male student is supposed to be here, but knowing how influential Mikey is, he might have bribed the security to let him in.

His quiet sigh interrupted your thoughts and you turned your attention back to them, wondering what was going on. He started talking again, taking a tone much softer than before. “You’ve changed Emma. You blow me off to spend time with a stranger-”

“She is not a strang-”

“She is to me. You have enough friends Emma, what do you need this one for? What’s so fucking special about her?” His voice grows harsh again as he goes off a tangent about you. “You’re gonna get tired of her Emma. She’s a new thing but sooner or later you’ll get sick of her.”

Your heart broke at Mikey’s words. Is that what he thinks of you? This was supposed to be the easy going guy on campus that helped girls cross the street and everyone liked?

What did you ever do to him?

“Stop it!” Emma hissed underneath her breath, trying to keep her voice down but drive her point across simultaneously. “Stop talking about (name) like she’s a pet or a fucking toy Mikey. I care for her and I won’t stand you talking shit about her.”

“Em for fuck sake, just get dressed and get your ass back to the party.” Your jaw nearly dropped at how he’s quick to switch topics, ignoring what she just said. “Draken’s waiting downstairs and Izana’s gonna be pissed if you don’t come back.”

“You’re gonna ignore everything I just said right now, huh?”

“Em-”

“You and Izana can go fuck yourselves.”

“You can’t be seriou-”

Emma didn’t let him finish when she slammed the door in his face, turning the key as fast as possible. Her body sagged on the door, a quiet ‘god’ escaping her lips. Her silhouette stayed in that position for two full minutes before she walked to the bed again.

In silence, she laid beside you, wrapping an arm around your body and dragging the blankets over you both once again. You felt safe.

   THE next few days after the party were eventful.

Emma had spent them with you, hanging out in the library to study and going to your work place after a hard day at school, just sitting and talking with you when there was no customer around. You ended up in your dorm room or hers afterwards, eating the snacks you both got from shops around the school.

It was nice. Emma was usually busy with other things, so having her with you all the time seems so perfect. You enjoy the quality time you spend with her, really.

But guilt wouldn’t let you do so.

She had isolated herself from her friend group affiliated with either of her brothers, ignoring their pleas to at least talk to either Mikey or Izana. Hina or Senju would try to walk up to her on her way to class and Emma would outright ignore them. In a span of days, you’ve seen countless plushies, perfumes, expensive jewelry thrown into the dustbin, either from Mikey or Izana at the back of her dorm- their apology ripped letters ripped to shreds.

You had taken the time to piece one from Izana together and felt your heart bleed at his begging for them to “please work it out. We may not be siblings by blood but you’ll always be my little sister” and Mikey’s “Em I’m sorry for everything. Please let’s talk, I’ll listen to you.”

Your brothers had never done anything like that before. Usually, they would tell you to suck it up or even laugh at you for being too ‘sensitive’.

Then and there, you decided to talk to either of the Sano brothers in hopes you would mend their relationship. A naïve part of you thinks that this is the right thing for you to do; Emma has done so much for you, it’s time to return the favor.

You hadn’t told Emma what you planned on doing, knowing very well that it would make the poor girl far more furious than she was already. She would tell you that you have nothing to apologize for and get angry with you for suggesting to make peace with them, claiming you did nothing wrong.

The last thing you want is to escalate the issue. You just wanted Emma’s happiness.

You gripped the strap of your tote bag firmly, your eyes fixated on Mikey’s Chevrolet that was outside your department, possibly waiting for Emma to come out so that he would talk to her. Gathering all your courage, you walked towards the car and gently knock on the passenger’s seat tinted window to get his attention.

It wound down immediately, revealing the blonde haired man staring back at you with an annoyed expression.

“Are you trying to break my window?”

His rude tone made you instantly regret even trying to talk to him. Unfortunately for you, the decision was made and you stuck to it. ‘The letters, remember the letters’ You whispered to yourself. “I’m sorry Mikey I didn’t mean-”

“Manjiro.”

You blink twice at his interruption, trying to make sense of what was going on. “Huh?”

“Only my friends call me Mikey and as far I’m concerned, you aren’t one of them.”

There it is. That same attitude of that night. It almost made you angry with the way he was talking to you. You had every right to walk away from him - he was the one consistently harassing you, not the other way around, so who does he think he is?

Instead, you took a deep breath, thinking about just being the bigger person and how you want to make peace with him, so that everything returned to normal. “Okay, I’m sorry about your window Manjiro.” You added politely. “Can we talk?”

He narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously and you expected him to roll up his window and just drive away after that.

“Get in.”

You were shocked, but that quickly wore off when he opened the door for you to enter. You settled in quickly, snapping the seatbelt on after closing the door behind you.

There’s tense silence between the two of you as the car moved towards a more secluded part of the campus. You anxiously looked at your lap while he drove, wondering how you were going to start the conversation with him without instantly setting him off. Your gaze eventually drifted up to his face; from his half-lidded dark eyes to his straight nose, down to his soft pink lips.

You could see the resemblance between him and Emma, from their facial structure to genuinely good skin -not to mention they were both attractive. Despite his height, you knew a large amount of girls that crushed on him religiously, you included. You heard he treated any girl he was with, from his ex-girlfriends to his situationships, down to his one night stands with utmost respect and care. And despite everything he’s said to you, unlike his brother, he never hurt you violently or physically.

You just wished he was just as polite with you as he was with other girls. Maybe you could bring it up in discussions.

The car stops, bringing you back to reality. You realized that he had parked behind an abandoned class far behind the rest of the school. According to the university’s history, this was the first ever lecture hall that was built for the school, and eventually they decided not to renovate it as a remembrance from their little beginnings.

Or they didn’t want to spend any money on it.

Mikey switched the engine off, completely silencing the environment between the two of you. It is then that the realization hits you. You’re all alone with one of the most dangerous guys in this school, in a place where no one could hear you even if you scream. The thought makes you nervous, hoping to high heavens that Manjiro doesn’t want to hurt you.

“Well?” He asked, breaking the ice between the two of you. Mikey leaned back on the driver’s seat, turning to look at you. “You wanted to talk? Start talking.”

‘Okay. I can do this’ You whispered gently, exhaling through your lips. You can do this. “Mike- I-i mean Manjiro, I know it’s awkward, after everything that happened at the party and now it’s all a mess.” You cringed at the way you’re jumbling your words, this was not how it was meant to go. “We still haven’t resolved things yet-”

“We?”

You’re taken aback by his shocked tone as if he didn’t remember what both he and Izana had said to you, but when he doesn’t elaborate further, you take matters into your own hands. “Yes. You both said some unsavory things to me that hurt me that day, and it made Emma mad.” You paced yourself, not wanting to start rambling again. “I also want to apologize for disrupting your party by taking those words to heart and if I have offended you in any way, please forgive me.”

There’s an unreadable expression on his face, as if he’s slowly processing all the words you had just said. You watched his reaction morph from surprise to blankness, nothing on his face, which scared you more than any other expression.

“Get out of my car.”

What?

You quickly turned to the man, trying to understand what you had done wrong. This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go in your head. You expected that Manjiro would be civil enough to at least apologize for his actions too or talk, not this.  “Wait, Manjiro, what did I say wrong-”

“You don’t even realize you’re the problem!” You nearly jump out of your skin at the sudden increase in his pitch as he bares out his frustration with you. “Em can never fucking shut up about how I need to apologize to you whenever I try to talk to her! It’s always about you, you, you! It’s frustrating.” he snapped. “Ever since you came into Em’s life, she just can’t help herself bringing you up. It’s always shit like ‘Oh, (name) is such a nice girl, you should talk to her, she’s a good listener.’ ‘Sorry I can’t come to the outings, I have to study with (name), you know she can’t go alone anywhere’ ‘Oh, this reminds me of (name), she can’t even say the word sex without hiding her face, she’s so innocent.’ She’s so fucking enamoured with you and we’re sick of it.”

You knew the brothers were extremely family motivated, but you had no idea that you were getting in the way of them spending time together. “I didn’t know...” Your voice shakes, tone apologetic as your gaze falls onto your lap. “I…I didn’t know I was causing a rift between you guys, I’m so sorry. I just want to make up for everything and put this behind us.”

A tense silence followed, and you didn't look up from your lap to look at Manjiro, still intimidated at his sudden outburst. You could understand their aversion to you, their family is quite close and their bonds intertwined; so for a stranger to barge in and attempt to tear things apart, even unknowingly can be frightening for them.

Not like you would know what it is like for family to love you.

Eventually, you feel Manjiro turn his gaze towards you, dark eyes scanning your figure until settling on you. You held your breath as he finally cleared his throat, turning his attention to you fully for the first time, ever as he began to speak.

“You want us to make up.”

His tone was plain, as opposed to how angry he sounded a few moments ago. Somehow, you feel weird, slightly more alert than before as he pauses again, goosebumps littering your skin. ‘What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel so scared as he’s staring at me?’ you questioned yourself, before shaking your head, clearing your thoughts. ‘This is Mikey I’m with. Sure, he’s intimidating, but he would never hurt a girl. He’s a good guy.’

You decided to push your odd feelings aside. You were here for peace, not to think ill of him, not especially when you have a soft spot for him in your heart. And you wanted it to happen by any means necessary. Maybe showing him you were not a threat to his place in Emma’s life would make him feel much better around you. “I know that you may not trust me, but maybe if you got to know me better, and I also got to know you and your friends, you’ll see I mean no harm.”

“Is that so? You want us to know each other better?”

It was slight, but you could hear it. The slight mocking tone in his voice and instantly you felt stupid. It was clear he wasn’t taking you or your request seriously as you hoped he would, opting to see right through you instead as he stared at you, his gaze lingering to your hands lying in your lap.

“I-i feel like you’re not taking me seriously-"

“If you wore a longer skirt, then I wouldn’t have gotten so distracted.”

You instantly felt self-conscious when you realized where his gaze truly was from that moment on, and started dragging down your skirt to cover the space between your thighs and socks. The action only seemed to annoy him. “This is my problem with you. If you knew it was short, why did you wear it then?”

“I thought it was cute-” You felt stupider, uttering those words, but before you could say anything else, Mikey cut you off. “I never said it wasn’t cute, (name). It’s a cute skirt. It looks good on you.”

Your heart jumps in excitement at his compliment, your entire body getting warm at his words. “Really?” You uttered shyly, letting your guard down as a small smile crawls up your pretty lips.

“Yeah, real cute. You’d fit as one of the actresses featured in the schoolgirl category on a porn site.”

Your smile dropped instantly as the words left his mouth. “I’m not a slut.” your voice trembled, but just like arguing with your father, it’s no use. He let out a loud scoff, his gaze flickering from your face to your lap, settling between your legs. “But you dress like one. So might as well just perform for me, hmm?”

Your body tenses as you feel a hot palm grab at your exposed thigh, crawling underneath your skirt. You quickly push his hand off your thighs, earning a somewhat shocked reaction from him, as if he’s not used to being rejected. “I’m not…” you start to explain to him, slowly reaching for the door in a bid to escape. “... I don’t do things like that-”

“Does it look like I fucking care?” The blonde man snapped back at you, his surprise giving way to annoyance and he started to grab at your thighs again, only to be brushed off by you, angering him further. “I know you’re not as “innocent” as you claim to be. Stop fucking pretending. I know you want this!”

“I said I don’t do stuff like that! Stop it!” You yelled back at him, frustrated that he can’t just take no for an answer. You try to pry the door open or undo the latch, only to discover that it was stuck and that there was no way out.

‘No, no, no, no…’

Your heart starts hammering loudly in your chest, dread filling your veins when you realized how alone and utterly fucked you are.

You’re beginning to realize that Manjiro driving the both of you to a secluded place in the middle of nowhere was most likely intentional. He must have planned this so that no one would hear you both.

“Manjiro open the door or I’ll- I’ll-” 

“Or you’ll what?” He spat back, dangling the keys before your very eyes before putting it somewhere you couldn’t see. “You wanna open the door so bad? Get the key from me then.”

You’re quick to react, lunging forward in an attempt to snatch the key for him. He easily resisted you grabbing at his body while laughing at your repeated screams to stop. It was like the more you begged and pleaded for him to let you go, the more he liked whatever game he was playing.

“THIS ISN’T FUNN- MANJIRO!”

Your screaming did nothing to deter him from practically jumping on you and pinning your arms against your chest with one firm hand, a leg separating your thighs. You twisted and turned, trying to fight your way out of his tight grip but to no avail. He was heavy and stronger than you had imagined, holding onto you like you weighed nothing at all.

His other hand reached underneath your skirt, skimming through your panties, making you squirm in your position at the feeling. Panic rises against your chest as he pushes the crotch part aside, revealing your pussy. “Wait! Wait, please Manjiro, I’m a virgin-” you try to reason with him as he traces through a streak of your hairy vulva, curling a strand in one finger before moving to your clit.

“You don’t shave?” His tone is so casual, like he isn’t doing something very abhorrent and wrong right now. His question is left hanging in the air as his finger starts to slowly circle around your clit. "Not like I care, it's better this way, anyways."

You’ve never been touched before. You’ve never touched yourself there either. You grew up in a household that taught you that anyone who isn’t your husband touching you is wrong. Your body is a temple to be kept for your husband.

So when Mikey’s slow and sensual movement against your clit begins, your body nearly seizes up with sensitivity. A loud gasp escapes your lips, followed by heavy breathing, your body shuddering with something unfamiliar and electric, sending signals that you didn’t know how to respond.

He strokes you faster, rubbing your sensitive nub in circles that has your eyes glazing over and your hips moving to feel more of his touches, wetting his car seat and your skirt with arousal. Mikey watched with interest the way you closed your eyes tight, your head lolled towards the side as your chest rises and falls, quiet ‘oh’ leaving your lips. He started to take it a step further, leaning over to your neck and trails kisses from your pulse point, to your jawline. He moved up to your ear and his long tongue darted towards the shell, licking it.

“Manjiro-” You gasped at the foreign wetness, with each flick of his tongue, sending pleasurable shivers down your body to your very core. Encouraged by your somewhat positive response, he continues licking your earlobe, his teeth occasionally grazing the shell as his fingers progressively leaves your clit, gathering your slick between his two fingers and tracing the outline of your hole.

“Shit” he groaned, feeling how wet you were. “You’re so wet right now, I could just slide in your pussy with ease.”

You wanted to protest when you felt two thick fingers inch into your unused hole. You wanted to push him off you and run out of the car until you were far away from him. Every part of your mind, your heart, everything in you wants Mikey OFF you as he forces your hole to accept his fingers.

And yet, you couldn’t even scream, you couldn’t claw at his face to scratch his eyes out for doing this to you. No. Instead, you’re arching your back and breathing his name into his ears over and over again, your hands clenched tightly in his grip as his fingers stretched your pussy out. All you do is tear up and let this sick pervert lick the salt rolling down your cheeks off, before going back to kissing the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“You’re so pretty when you cry f’me. Come on, keep making those noises.” 

He curled up his fingers, experimentally looking for that spot as the burn graduated to a pleasurable stretch, repeated moans leaving your lips. He fingered you, progressively increasing his speed and pleasure overriding your senses as he circled his thumb over your poor nub, simultaneously with him curling up your g-spot.

Your body responded to his touches, lips kissing up and down your neck, licking your pulse point before sinking his teeth and mouth on it, making you gasp loudly.

Everything was too much. Your pussy tightened around his fingers, thighs trembling as he brought you closer to the edge. His lips left your neck and kissed up to your jaw, then the corner of your lips, pumping into you faster until you started to spasm.

“M-manjiro I-i feel, I feel- hngh-”

You arched your back uncomfortably with a strangled cry, soaking his fingers as your vision went blinding white. Your body trembled as he fucks and kisses you through your orgasm, shaking in his grasp until you fall limp on the chair, well spent.

You’re catching your breath as his fingers slid out of your pussy, a string of your cum connecting them. Manjiro looked at his soaked fingers with interest, before popping them in his mouth and humming to himself in approval. The sight feels so wrong to look at and you can’t find the strength to look away as he licked his fingers clean of your musky taste.

You don’t say anything when he let go of your wrists and adjusted your panties so that it covered your pussy. The blonde haired man climbed back to his seat, starting up the engine of his car again.

He doesn’t say anything when you start sobbing.

   “I GOT you food.”

You didn’t respond to Manjiro, hanging your face as tears rolled down your face. It’s the position you had assumed since he climbed off your body, something he couldn’t get you out. He thought that maybe if he got you some food, maybe you’ll ease up and eat.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Kissing his teeth, he entered back into the driver's seat before closing the door behind him, tossing the food at the back seat. You could tell from the way he was muttering underneath his breath that he was growing more annoyed with you. “Honestly, I don’t know why the hell you’re crying. You’re still a virgin. I didn’t force myself on you.”

You didn’t know what else to expect from him. That he would even offer you a shred of apology for what he did? The way his words are so callous, lacking any form of tact in the way he’s brushing off what he just did tore you apart.

Emma had painted this man as someone who would hang the moon and stars for her. Someone she knew she could call if anything was going to happen to her, who would fight through hell and back for her safety. She had told you of how he beat up anyone that touched her wrongly and how he would try to make her forget anything unpleasant. To Emma, Mikey was her knight in shining armor, her hero.

This was a man you had loved with all your heart. Manjiro was your first ever crush, and the more good you heard about him, not just from Emma, but from other girls too, the deeper you fell for him. You had admired him from afar, your heart set onto him as you hoped to be at least close to him. Despite everything, he was the sun in which everyone revolved around, the heart throb of your dreams.

But when you turn to look at him through your teary gaze, watching him rev up his car engine with a nonchalant expression on his face, all you see is a vile soul.

You felt sick.

“I’m going to tell Emma.”

Your voice was quiet, hoarse from all the sobbing but the anger was evident. There was no way you were going to let him get away scott free. You knew that the police would be as good as useless because you’ll have no evidence by the time you manage to file a complaint. The school authorities won’t help you either as Shinichiro Sano was one of their biggest benefactors and everyone in the faculty loved Manjiro despite his tendency to be disrespectful.

But if you told Emma, you know she’ll believe you. Even if the entire world was against you and for him, you would still be able to get her to take your side and stand with you.

You’re sure name dropping his little sister would make him scared at the very least. Mikey loved her to death, she had this perfect image of her sweet older brother that he has to uphold at the very least.

Without skipping a beat, he dropped his own phone straight onto your lap before continuing to focus on the road. Eyes wide, you turned your head to Mikey to see any form of reaction, even him flinching slightly.

Nothing.

Your mouth hung open at how he just blankly stared at the road ahead of him, his grip on the steering wheel normal as he drove you back to campus. As if he’s innocent, like he didn’t force his fingers into your panties and violate you.

His nonchalance irritates you; it’s as if he doesn’t care what you say or do to him.

“What?” you questioned him, wondering where the hell he dropped his humanity? Any other person would have reacted; begging you, threatening you or even giving a flimsy apology. “-why did you drop this on my lap?”

“You wanna call her? Go ahead.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Not like you told me no when I was fingering you.”

“That’s not how it works!”

“Then how does it work?” He cuts you short, taking a right turn to park outside of your faculty building. He puts the car in park before turning to face you. “You walk up to my car to ask me if we could talk, wearing that kind of skirt that gave me access to you. When I told you to get out, you didn‘t leave. You never told me to stop and you didn’t struggle. You know what you did instead?”

“Sto-”

“Ah ah- Manjiro” he mocked you in a high pitched voice, making you cover your ears in humiliation, not wanting to hear anything from him. You wanted to throw up, ruin his car. You want the ground to swallow you whole, anything that would take him far away from you. “Ah, mmh Manjiro, mmh mhhh ah ah- you moan like a pornstar by the way. You seem like you enjoyed being treated like that.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but all you felt was bile rise up to your throat. A part of you nagged that he had a point; you never said anything that sounded like ‘stop’ or ‘no’ and how you positively responded to his touches. ‘You even orgasmed.’ A gnarly disgusting voice bubbles up in your head, in defense of Mikey. ‘It was obvious you enjoyed it. Every second of it.’

You tried to deny it. Try to block out that voice as you attempt to remember everything you were told about assault. You’re fighting a war in your head, against the intrusive voices as you picked up the phone to tell Emma. ‘She’ll believe me. She’ll believe me-’

“Face it. You’re just overreacting because you liked what we did.”

Those words were the final nail to the coffin. The phone lies in your limp hand, finger just above Emma’s line to call her. Everything that led up to this point involved your choices. To stay in his car. Not fighting harder. Never screaming no.

You let him dirty your temple.

Mikey spared you one more look, dark eyes scanning every inch of your crumpled form. He slides the device out of your hand, placing it back in the middle of his car before grasping your hand in his.

“Alright, stop crying.” he soothed in faux sympathy, thumb tracing over the back of your palm. “I’ll take you shopping and buy you new clothes, hmm? And I’ll buy you anything else you want. Okay?”

You should known better to believe him. After everything he has done to you, from consistently insulting you, to assaulting you and then making you feel guilty for giving him the opportunity to do so.

And yet, you’re nodding along, agreeing with him and letting his warmth engulf you. “Okay.” You said in a small voice, your free hand grasping the hem of your skirt tightly.

“Look at me.”

You felt another hand grasp your chin, forcing you to look at his face, dark eyes peering at your face. “I don’t like that look on your face.” You wince as his fingers tightened around your jaw, your heart hammering against your chest when he commanded you once again. “Smile.”

You don’t know what else to do. With Mikey, it’s like going to a war knowing fully well you would lose.

And so you do as you’re told. Your lips lifted at the corners forcefully and you gave your best smile. He returned it with a smile of his own, genuine to the point his eyes dilated.

“Good girl. You look so much better.”

Your mouth went dry at his statement when he withdrew from your body and unlocked the door for you. Deciding not to ponder on it, you reach for the handle to leave. You had a class in an hour’s time and you were supposed to meet up with Emma beforehand to return her laptop that you borrowed for her project.

“Wait.”

You paused in your tracks, your hand hovering above the door handle. What else does he want from you?

“Your makeup is ruined. Fix it. You don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea that I hurt you when we were just playing with each other.”

Bile rose into your mouth once again at his words, but you hold yourself from doing anything that would set him off. You only nodded in response before opening the door and exiting the car. Tears threatened to escape your eyes as you hurried off to class, your throat burning with anger as you gripped both your tote bag and the food he had gotten for you, hard. Your body shook with each step feeling the intensity of his dark eyes burning into you.

You never touched the food, throwing it in the trash bin due to your appetite eluding you, replaced with a sinking feeling of pain and humiliation into your stomach. You don’t make it to the rest of your classes either, opting to lock yourself in a toilet, a loud cry ripping from your throat into your palms as your heart breaks into tiny pieces.

How could this have happened?

Bonus Scene:

MIKEY never tore his gaze from you as you disappeared into the building. Dark eyes watched as your ass bounced in that jean skirt you had worn today, nearly reviving the boner he had prior. He had to admit, notwithstanding his absolute disgust for you, you were a sight for sore eyes - pretty, naive, inexperienced and tight. So goddamn tight.

He’s never been with an inexperienced girl before. Not even when he lost his virginity in high school. It didn’t hurt that you also had the sexiest thighs he’s ever seen either, soft and doughy underneath his touch.

You weren’t as stupid as he thought -far from it. Mikey knew your strategy; picking your battles carefully. You’re rightfully afraid of both him and Izana. You were even more afraid of losing face with Emma, the only friend you managed to make here, which is why you came to him because you felt guilty for making her mad at them.

If played right, they could have you underneath their thumb like they do with the rest of Emma’s other friends. All this was to keep an eye on their little sister in the long run, to restore the natural order and balance that was their system. Family came first, then the gang, then their friends and finally, if they cared enough, their lovers. It’s a cycle that Mikey is used to, being the center of attention in Emma’s life and sharing that space with Izana. Even Draken knew that there are times he shouldn’t intrude when the two brothers are with her.

But you had no regard for the order of things. You just tried to insert yourself into his and Izana’s circles, as if you were somebody of any importance and not just another, a little gnat.

To Mikey, you deserved to be crushed like the annoying gnat you are. Seeing you cry and tremble underneath his touch, hearing you moan and beg him like a slut made him feel good.

Mikey looked at the building again before looking at his watch. He had to attend his criminology lecture by 3pm since he had a presentation today and it was already 1:30pm, having taken out time to talk to you. The frat member he gave his presentation to edit must be waiting for him at the coffee shop.

“I might not be able to meet up with ‘Zana.” He muttered, picking up his phone to dial him up instead. Finally, after the fifth ring, his line went through, his rough voice echoing through the phone.

“Mikey? What is it?”

Mikey could hear a bit of shuffling from the other end of the phone, and a quiet “Izana” spilling from a rather feminine voice, only for Izana to bark at the girl to shut up, effectively silencing her.

“Did I catch you at the wrong time?”

“No.” He grumbled. “Do you have any updates on Emma?”

“In a way, yes. I do.”

“In a way?”

“I have a feeling you’re not going to like my plan, regardless.”

Izana sighed from the other side of the line, probably sick and tired of the constant mind games Emma was playing with them and to be fair, even he was sick of it as well. Their little sister was easy to annoy but easier to please; so for her not to be as forgiving this time was frustrating. Mikey had played every game in the book he knew to please Emma and even Izana had put in far more effort than he cared to, but nothing worked.

Unless…

“It involves her, doesn’t it?”

Mikey could hear the irritation in his brother's voice, but then again, if they wanted peace to reign and for Shinichiro not to get directly involved in this issue in your favour, they were going to have to play it the smarter way.

“Not like we have a choice. Emma’s attached to that girl by the hip. You’ll just have to trust me on this one.”

Also, it doesn't hurt to have a little fun on the side.

author's notes: reblogs, comments and asks are highly appreciated. my taglist for all my fics are wide open, so do ensure to sign up. please be very patient with me as for updates, school has started and i may not be able to be consistent, but i will try my very best to finish this story this year.

I do not consent to my works being promoted, published or translated on any site or social media without my permission.

taglist (please turn on your mentions in 'settings' before filling the form.): @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @merrymerrykiss @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @ryuguji-sana @nuyoo @getonite @anxious-chick @reiners-milkbiddies @kiwixpi @gh0stgirl333 @brisssaaa009 @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @damidamimongalam @raven-nevra

[moonastro]

Solar Return chart notes i

**not my images**

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ chart ruler in 12th house can suggest you moving abroad ( i had my chart ruler- moon in 12th house conjunct Jupiter (travel, foreign) when i moved to a completely new country. also my 12th house was in Gemini which rules over travel and trips so that enhanced it).

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ i had my 12th house packed with planetary objects (venus, northnode, uranus, sun, mercury and moon) and that year i was not doing too good with my overall mental health HOWEVER, i was very spiritually inclined that year, i started to develop habits related to spirituality.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the year that i studied my a** off i had a SR virgo rising and mercury (the ruler) in 10th house in gemini (knowledge, mind, writing). i wrote alottt like loads and loads of notes for my exams.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ in the year my daily routine changed and i had a very difficult time to process it, i had my 6th house in scorpio and pluto (ruler) in 8th house (of death, endings, transformative occurrences). oh and to put the cherry on top pluto was in capricorn so yeahh.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ when i had moon in 5th house i was fantasying a LOTT about romance. i had moon conjunct neptune in PISCESS. i was very delusional about love. i didnt even want to be in a relationship lol i just liked the idea of it.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the asteroid enterprise (9777) in my 11th house was the year i made lots of job applications through the internet. i sent in lots of digital stuff and had some calls through internet involving my career.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ in the year i had a very healthy friendship my 11th house ruler was in the 7th house (equality, balance, partnership) this was the most stable and very communicative (mercury) based friendship meaning that problems were solved were fixed through communications. mercury (ruler of my 11th house) was conjunct northnode, i received lots of gifts (7th house), opportunities, and she spent money on me on food mostly (in taurus). VERYY fascinatingg

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ when i started to post officially on social media, my sun was conjunct uranus.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SR chiron in 6th house is not for the weak. i had this in 18 degress (virgo) and my physical appearance was all i was focused on and was very critical about it VERY.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ uranus in 9th house- i was very confused with my school work, the overall school experience was very unfamiliar to me.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ on the solar return that i had an 8th house stellium (chiron, venus, jupiter, neptune, mars) that year i had lots of luxury gifts given to me (Venus). i went to the movies on my birthday of the beginning of my SR (Neptune) we ate at a luxury restaurant (venus) in that year i got a brand new laptop (Uranus). i got a new set of tarot cards (Jupiter) and was bought a gym membership (mars).

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ when i had mercury in my SR 7th house i studied a lot about my future spouse (5 degrees) like i was looking at solar returns, reading my chart so on and on.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ moon at 1 degree in my SR, i was very sensitive and was overthinking about everything whenever someone would hurt me.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ sun in 10th house in SR, i wasn't seeking any recognition but i had no choice in the matter, others could NOTT leave me alone. i was talking a lot also to new people that i never spoke to before (sun conjunct mercury in Gemini).

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ i cant get enough about the 12th house but, the year when i had a 12th house stellium, i started to observe my dreams more and started recording them on paper.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the year when my 12th house was in taurus (throat, voice), i barely talked, like i was very quiet.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SR scorpio ASC was very focused on occult things, i spent hours and hours studying (pluto in 3rd house) natal charts, tarot online (aquarius).

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ my SR MC in leo was the year i changed my hair completey the way i havent before, i developed confidence with that hairstyle and never went back.

thanks you for reading. hope you enjoyed this post. have a lovely day !!

[lowkeyrobin]

Platonic Ghostbusters x social media manager! Reader?

oooo hell yeah!! ; thanks for requesting and I hope u enjoy :)

GHOSTBUSTERS ; social media manager

summary ; you run the official ghostbusters social media platforms

warnings ; language

word count ; 746

masterlist

Podcast wanted to run the official Ghostbuster social media's but was quickly turned down at that. They needed someone who could actually be on top of that kind of stuff and whatnot. So, Stanz made a deal with Podcast that they'd get a social media manager, and he could act as their teammate with that, basically. Giving them ideas, giving them video clips and extra details, etcetera.

Most of the others didn't see a real reason for a social media manager, but as long as it wasn't their money.

Trevor offered to just do everything himself, but that was obviously turned down as well. The teens all agreed not to let the adults run the account either. They didn't need millennial - Gen X / Boomer humor flooding the whole account and making them look bad.

And that's where you came in.

surprisingly, Pheobe was the one to find you. she's seriously the most chronically offline person ever so the fact she ever opened Instagram was a miracle in itself

lots of talking back and forth and meeting the original four three ghostbusters to get input, then meeting callie & garry and the teenagers

you actually figured out that you used to be friends with Lucky as well, damn

you had managed social media accounts before, but you'd recently quit a few of those because of labor laws being broken so, yknow

you quickly formed a bond with Lucky, Trevor, and Podcast. you were kind of close in age to all three of them and they were all invested in the public image for the brand

setting the Instagram up was genuinely the funnest thing ever

the four of you were chilling in the living room in the firehouse (since sleepover stuff, pheobe was in her room reading) and you had your laptop in your lap and the three of them over your shoulders

the amount of laughing and cackling got some scolding from callie upstairs

it took everything out of you to not make the first post a video of trevor being soaked in Slimer's slime (which had been recorded by Lucky just by coincidence as they were investigating the attic again)

the first three posts, which were pinned, all lined up to be like a banner kind of logo with the theme song in the back, and they all played the same video, clips of the og ghostbusters and how they grew and then the new ghostbusters

the tiktok is its own thing, you allowed trev, lucky, podcast (and pheobe) to run it, but everything had to be ran by you first because pr shit

but thankfully no boomer humor or slang is ever being put on those accounts

most of those people don't even know wtf the internet is anyways lol

stanz has a personal vendetta against you /hj after you posted a .5 of him for relatable promo. he had no idea what you were doing but it was criminal that you made his forehead look so much more bigger than it already was

Winston gives you a bunch of old pics to post to trending angst sounds as well LOL

let's not talk about that tiktok where you, lucky, and trevor dance to/remake submissive and breedable by smosh ft bbno$, okay?

^podcast and pheobe were behind the camera cackling the whole time

lots of random pic posts on the insta as well because why not (most of them are the teens looking awkward, callie, gary & lars trying to look like cool scientists, or venkman, stanz, zeddemore & melnitz being classic, sassy old people)

the socials are never professional whatsoever, it's fun but it's not heavily controversial or obvious that you're there as a pr manager basically or just to manage the socials

like man they don't have the time to look at all the comments, take all the advice, reply to fans, etc

I mean that wage ain't that bad either LMAO

trevor is always bitching about how you make more money than he does /lh

you're not just a representative to them, you're actually family. you're just cool like that

"bro y/n is such a mc I hate them" and you'll reply on your personal w a "says you, reality shifter" or smthn LMAO idfk

always reposting ghostbuster edits / fanart etc because fandom culture 🙏

also I can't get over the fact the ghostbuster theme song is canon now either. yk damn well that shit is plastered everywhere thanks to you 💀

"do the ghostbusters respond??" "stanz said he loves your dog" "HELP HSEIJDLAKE"

10/10 experience

[lostcherise]

Sturdy

pairing: jesse pinkman x f!reader

summary: you bought a nightstand from whom you feared to be a serial killer online, but turns out he was the complete opposite. now you had to find a way to see him again.

warnings: smut, oral (f and m receiving), throat fucking, choking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, degrading names (he calls you a dirty slut)

word count: 3,037

a/n: not proof read, couldn't wait to post this lmao, also was listening to this when i was writing this

"Are you sure about this one?" your sister sighed with furrowed eyebrows. She peered over your shoulder from where you were sitting on your couch, legs crossed over one another; your laptop resting on your thighs.

"Yeah." you lied and waved her off without even turning to look at her. "What's there to be scared about? Lots of people sell and buy stuff online. It's no big deal." you said, this time you gave her a sideways glance over your shoulder. "Really." you added, trying to reassure her.

Your gaze followed your sister, as she made her way to the couch and planted herself right next to you with a sigh. Her head rolled over on her left shoulder, and she lifted her eyes to look at you disbelievingly.

"And lots of other people end up getting murdered." she countered, her eyebrows shooting up on her forehead as she tried to make her point. "Just order a brand new one from IKEA." she quipped, taking a sip from the coffee in her hands.

Disgusted and somewhat offended at her suggestion, you turned to fully look at her. "They don't make pieces like these! Plus, this one is an actual antique. Completey refurbished, too, might I add." you countered, to which your sister mock nodded in agreement, her eyes comically wide, as she looked back at you.

"Just know that I won't be crying at your funeral." and with that she dropped the subject.

────────────────────────────

Despite your sister's best efforts, you had pulled through with the online listing. So here you were, waiting inside your car at a Fred Meyer parking lot. You had arrived about 15 minutes early, as you usually did with all your appointments. Maybe that wasn't very wise, considering Alaskan winters were brutal. But, thank God for air conditioning. About 5 minutes before the arranged meeting time, you stepped out, remaining close to the door; in case it actually turned out to be a blood thirsty murderer and you had to make a quick escape.

Although you had set up a public place as a meeting place, it was still fairly quiet. There about 5 other cars parked at that moment, but it was just you out there. The rumbling sound of a large pick up rolling in from behind you caught your attention. However, you didn't get to see who was inside through the windshield, as they turned and parked at the empty parking spot directly opposite yours.

It was definitely them, that was for sure. The top of the nightstand that was just barely peeking through the truck bed of the black Ford F150 gave it away. Their truck was too polished and well kept to give off murderer vibes, you thought. Your heart thumped in your chest, as the stranger got out of their car.

Well, I'll be damned.

You now stood face to face with what could've been the hottest guy you had laid eyes on in a while. He stood just a couple inches taller than you, his eyes a striking blue. The deep, large scars adorning the right side of his face told a much darker story, but they added to the ruggedness of his looks, along with his short trimmed beard. That paired with his all black attire, screamed bad boy in your books. Which was conveniently your type; also the reason you had been painfully single for a while.

"Hey," his buttery smooth voice broke the silence. "I'm Jesse." he introduced himself with an outstretched hand.

Dumbfounded, you silently shook his hand back. Jesse gave you a funny look, and smiled at you slightly. "You wanna take a look?" he pointed his thumb towards the truck, where the nightstand was.

"Shit, yeah." you had completely forgotten about that. You observed, as he opened the truck bed, and reached for the nightstand to pull it closer.

"So, this is it. An antique, Gothic Revival handcarved, mahogany dresser, with a dark chocolate finish. A real beauty." Jesse spoke in his husky voice. To be frank, you didn't register anything of what he had just said, too busy imagining that voice saying other stuff to you. "Oh, and brand new brass handles too. Made sure the design fit the style though." he kept on rambling. It was kind of endearing how into this he was.

"I'll take it." you simply said, to which Jesse gratefully smiled.

You tried to help him carry it over to your car, but he adamantly refused. Jesse bid you goodbye, and moved to his car. Anxious, you tapped your foot against the concrete; tried to think of an excuse to get to see him again. You were far too horny and single to let on this chance pass.

"Hold up." you jogged up to him, catching him just before he was about to climb into his car. "I, uh," you paused. "I'm actually upgrading my bedroom furniture, so I'll definitely be needing more stuff." you smiled sheepishly.

Jesse simply nodded as an indication for you to keep going, his breath coming out hot and puffy against the nipping cold air. He looked at you with a faint knowing smile and waited for you to continue.

"So, I was thinking of getting your number, easier to contact." you gestured obviously. "You accept commissions, right?"

"Yeah, just text me the measurements, type of wood, color and design, and it'll be ready for you in a few weeks." Jesse informed you, his tone professional.

He was doing business, and all you could think of was ways you wanted him to fuck you.

"How 'bout you come and take the measurements now?

────────────────────────────

Okay, maybe inviting him over to your house was a bit too forward.

You stood awkwardly, and leaned against the doorframe of your bedroom, observing him as he took the measurements of your old bed.

"You want coffee?"

"Maybe next time?" he smiled and came up to stand next to you. "I'll be waiting for more details on the bed..." his voice trailed off expectantly.

It then hit you that you had never properly introduced yourself to him. A blush quickly crept its way onto your cheeks and you softly told him your name. Jesse repeated it, a soft smile dancing on his lips, as his eyes took you in. You swore your name had never sounded so beautiful and sensual coming out of someone's mouth before. To your dismay, he left your house much too soon.

It took Jesse about three weeks to complete your new bed frame. And you had to admit, that man sure did wonders with his hands. The bed frame looked stunning, and it emulated the Gothic style of your nightstand perfectly.

You silently wondered what else those hands were good for, while you helped him set up your bed. You also observed him silently; his buzzcut was slightly longer than what it was when you had first met him, and you liked it a little more. It still wasn't long enough to pull on, sadly. While Jesse was using your bathroom, you quickly put on some new sheets.

"So, whatcha think?" his voice sounded from behind you. He was leaning on the door frame, one outstretched hand resting on the door frame, while the other was in his back pocket.

"It's beautiful..." you complimented his work.

"But?" Jesse asked, sensing from your tone that you wanted to add something else. He walked up to stand behind you.

"I'm not sure if it's sturdy enough." you finally added, your voice now lower.

He looked at you with confusion painted all over his features. His frown deepened when you took one step closer to him; you could feel the warmth radiating from his body.

"Do you mind if we check?" you finally asked the burning question that was plaguing your mind ever since he had gotten there to set up the bed.

And that's when it clicked in Jesse's head. You observed as confusion slowly faded from his face. His icy blue eyes darkening, glinting with a sense of newfound lust and desire. This time, Jesse was the one to take a step forward, your bodies touching; his lips merely an inch away from yours.

"And how do you suppose we do that?" his voice was thick with need.

"I was hoping you'd show me." you almost whined.

A shocked gasp fell past your lips as Jesse harshly pushed you on the mattress. This aggressive side was unexpected, but you'd be lying to yourself if you didn't admit that it had gotten your panties soaked.

He grabbed both your ankles and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, and pushed your legs back into a mating press position and stood in between your legs, grinding his hardening cock against your clothed pussy.

With a rough hand on your jaw, he pulled into a hungry kiss and you couldn't help but moan into his mouth; his tongue seizing this opportunity to explore your mouth. You whined into the kiss, and ground your hips harder against his, causing him to groan.

You had never been manhandled like this before, and you were almost sure his hand was going to bruise your jaw. But it would be a big, fat lie to say that you weren't extremely turned on right now. His hand moved further down at the base of your neck, just above your clavicle. Now, his lips found their way to where his hand once was on your jaw, leaving a trail of burning kisses as he made his way down on your neck. Jesse's teeth grazed your soft skin, making sure to leave angry red marks on you.

While his left hand remained enclosed around your neck, his right one traveled down and inside your panties, shoving a finger in without a warning.

An involutary gasp fell from your lips, not because it hurt - you were so wet, it slipped in with ease - it had just caught you of guard.

"Fuck." Jesse moaned into your neck, his finger moving in and out of you, and soon a second one followed suit. "Can't wait to stretch that pussy. But I need a taste first."

"Please." you begged, gripping his shoulders tightly with both hands, as he made his way down on you while simultaneously taking off your pants and underwear.

Jesse took a moment to take in the sight in front of him. You, laid up on the bed, legs folded over your stomach, and your glistening pussy perfectly open and ready for him. He wasted no moment, and swiftly began having his way with you. He took a long lick, from up to your clit and all the way down to your slit and right back up, the tip of his tongue just barely slipping in your entrance as he did so.

You raked your fingers through his short hair, when he repeated the same action two more times, and then he focused on your clit. His tongue circled around your bud and your hips bucked against his face, causing him to bury his nose into your pussy. Your eyes moved down, and you saw him looking directly at you as he lapped at your pussy, occasionally sucking your clit softly. He then inserted a finger into you, a gesture that made your thighs squeeze around his head.

He never did break eye contact, even as you squeezed your thighs so tightly around him, you almost suffocated him. A scream left your throat as an unexpected orgasm was ripped from you, his fingers curling up inside you as they fucked out your high.

You had never cummed so hard from getting head before. Hell, you weren't even sure if you had ever come before, just from someone eating you out.

Once your thighs fell limp on his shoulders, Jesse lifted himself up. "Stay on the bed, but get on your knees." he ordered and you complied without a sound. You knew what was coming next, and you couldn't wait to feel him heavy against your tongue.

"Atta girl." Jesse slapped your cheek softly in praise. You watched silently, as he moved to unbuckle his belt, then quickly undo his jeans. They fell on the floor with a soft thump, along with his underwear.

You swore your mouth was watering at the sight of Jesse's cock, and even if it was concealed by the cotton fabric of his boxer briefs; it was obvious he was well endowed. Without waiting another command from him, you moved to remove his underwear, and all you could do was moan at the sight of his cock springing free. His tip swollen and pink.

"Fuck." you moaned and opened your mouth to take him in. His hand messily grabbed your hair into a ponytail, and guided your head on his cock. Jesse groaned you took the tip in, a string of curses following suit. You looked up at him, moving your head to take him further into your mouth, your tongue laid out flat on the underside of his dick.

Jesse threw his head back, your mouth was so soft at warm, he wanted to fill you up to the point you would be choking around his dick. And so he pushed your head further down, his cock twitching the moment you gagged softly around him. He kept pushing your head, until your nose bumped against his pelvic bone. With a pull on your ponytail, he pushed your head back and watched as you gasped for air.

He let you take in three deep breaths before he pushed your head on his cock again and began pushing him self down your throat. Tears began to brim around your eyes as you choked and struggled for breath around his length, and Jesse smiled when your gazes locked.

"Love it when you choke on it, like a dirty slut." he spat, before pushing halfway through to let you take another deep breath, before he started picking up his pace. The tip of his cock was hitting the back of your throat and you couldn't help but moan, sending vibrations around his dick. Jesse couldn't also help but groan at the sensation, if he continued fucking your mouth like this, he was gonna let it all down your throat.

And although as much as he loved your mouth right now, he really wanted to see how you felt around him. Grabbing you again by your hair, he pulled you of his cock and ordered for you to turn around, and scoot up on the bed. You felt the mattress dip when he climbed up behind you.

Jesse grabbed the base of his cock, moving it to drag along your folds, gathering up all of your slick and coating his dick with it. He kept teasing your entrance with his tip, and you whined softly beneath him. With a wiggle of your hips, you pushed back, feeling the tip slip in.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. So," Jesse scolded softly, "fucking," he groaned when he pushed the entirety of his length into your wetness. "impatient." he finished his sentence once he bottomed out inside of you. His balls grazed your clit lightly, you were arched so perfectly for him, he was hitting all the right spots.

He moved to position himself, lifting one knee up, for better leverage and grabbed a fistful of your hair once more. His fingers curled tightly around the roots, sending a sweet and pleasurable wave of pain to your core, one that had you moaning.

That's all Jesse needed to hear and he began to mercilessly pound his hips into you. He pulled your head back by your hair, and you screamed as he had his way with you.

"You're so big." you moaned and his grip on your hair tightened.

"You take me so well." Jesse praised and moved his head down, his lips on level with your ear. "Taking my cock like a little slut." And with that he roughly let go of your head and you fell face first into the mattress.

In this position, your arch deepened causing him to fuck deeper into you. You felt the weight of his hand pressing down on your head and you screamed into the mattress when his pace grew quicker and harder.

In that moment, you were so thankful your house was a bit secluded; you wouldn't want to worry any neighbors with the way Jesse had you screaming. You felt the bed groan and creak and you thought it was going to give out beneath you.

Jesse abruptly pulled out of you and you whined at the loss of his dick, you felt so incredibly empty without him. With one swift movement, he flipped you over onto your back, his hand moving around your throat, just beneath your jawline.

"I want to look at your face when you cum." he said and squeezed your throat. He moved to push your legs above his shoulders, fucking into you so deep, it had you seeing stars.

His skin slapped agains yours, your wet pussy making lewd sounds around his cock. Jesse's hand squeezed your neck, pushing all the air out from your throat. His hips never once faltered, his pace steady against yours.

"Just like that." he cooed, watching your eyes roll back into your head at the lack of air, and just when you began clenching around him, he released his grip.

"Fuck!" you screamed, your head digging back into the mattress. The tight cord in your core snapped, and it had you clenching and gushing all over him.

Jesse smiled down at you, proud at how hard he had just made you cum. He kept fucking into you, prolonging your orgasm as he chased his own. His balls tightened while they slapped against your swollen cunt - he was close. He quickly pulled out and with two pumps, he came all over your stomach with a long throaty moan, painting you with his cum.

You were both heaving, now laying next to each other, not saying a word. It was Jesse who broke the silence, he turned to look at you with a wolfish grin.

"Seems pretty sturdy to me."

[prettypumpum]

Title: Crossed Dimensions I Logan Howlett x Reader

Summary: You were living an ordinary life until the day a portal throws you into the Marvel universe. Trapped between an unbearable Deadpool and a Wolverine as troubling as he is charming, you discover powers you didn't know you had and an unknown past with certain heroes. As your anxiety grows in the face of this new reality, will you be able to find your place and perhaps become the hero they need?

Warnings: strong language, mentions of violence.

Previous part / Masterlist

Chapter 2

“Rise and shine.”

I jolted awake to find Wade’s face uncomfortably close to mine.

“Why don’t you just teleport?” the mercenary asked, visibly disappointed.

“I don’t know, Wade, I can’t control my powers. But believe me, it’s in the top 5 of my to-do list,” I replied, getting up from the couch and rubbing my face.

“Leave her alone,” Logan grumbled from the kitchen. I joined him, grabbing the cereal box on the counter. I didn’t even recognize this brand. This universe was so different from mine. Oddly, the most disturbing part wasn’t that the Avengers existed or had superpowers, but rather the little details, like different logos or stores and restaurants in completely different locations.

“Do we have oat milk?” I asked, staring at the strange tiger on the box.

“We don’t even have regular milk, so forget your fancy whims, princess,” Al replied, fiddling with a small bag of white powder.

Great, so no milk, but we still had hard drugs. At least the household priorities were clear.

“We’ll add it to the shopping list,” Wade grinned, grabbing a small notepad and a unicorn pen.

“And with what money?” the old lady asked, outraged.

“About that, I was waiting for everyone to wake up,” Wade said calmly, fixing his gaze on me to emphasize that I was the “everyone.” “I called one of my contacts, Dopinder, and he found us a mission for our team!” he added enthusiastically, clapping his hands.

“What team?” Logan asked, clearly already on edge.

“Ours,” Wade replied, pointing at Logan and me.

“Hell no, I’ve got my own plans,” Logan growled, getting up to rinse his coffee mug.

“And what, you’re just gonna go back to living in the wild forests of glorious Canada like an animal until some old Japanese guy tries to steal your powers?” Wade asked.

“That’s exactly my plan,” Logan replied, not understanding half of what Wade had rambled but clearly wanting to end the conversation.

“I knew you’d be hard to convince, so I prepared a little PowerPoint,” Wade said, opening his laptop to show a slide titled, Reasons to Convince Logan and Lydia to Be My Best Friends (And More if We Feel Like It).

“Reason 1,” Wade said, pressing a key, triggering a star transition so tacky even Al cringed. “You’d really make me happy.” The image showed a little cartoon Deadpool hugging a tiny Lydia and a tiny Logan. “Number 2,” another horrid transition, “Disney saw the money they made off of us and they want a sequel, maybe with a love story. Reason 3: if you don’t come, you’ll ruin the whole team-sandwich aesthetic. People won’t get it if we lose the mustard,” Wade explained, outraged.

“I’m done with your nonsense,” Logan groaned, heading towards the bathroom.

“Reason 69: we’re out of booze and you’re out of cash!” Wade shouted, frantically looking for slide 69, which featured a little Logan looking delighted at a giant whiskey bottle.

Logan seemed to be weighing his options, but they weren’t any better than mine. He rubbed his temples, finally relenting.

“Fine, alright,” he grumbled as he walked into the bathroom.

Wade couldn’t have been happier. He was literally bouncing with self-applause, then turned his gaze to me.

“I have another PowerPoint for you, in 130 parts,” he said, searching through his files. “Here it is,” he said, opening a file titled, My Super Arguments for a Threesome with Logan and Lydia, Part 1: I Have Lots of Fun Toys. “Oops, that’s not it. You saw nothing,” he said to the wall.

“Why do you even want me to come? I’ll just slow you down.”

“Logan’s the muscle, you’re our emotional support, and I’m our brave and fearless leader, not influenced by Captain America at all,” Wade said as if it were obvious. “Come on, it’ll be fun. And most importantly, we need cocaine for Al; trust me, this place will get unbearable without it,” he whispered like it was a terrible secret.

I had two choices: go on this mission and, at worst, get shot, or stay stuck in this apartment with a coke-addicted grandma going through withdrawal.

“Alright, I’ll come.”

“Great!” Wade cheered. “You’ll see, it’s going to be awesome.”

Honestly, I doubted it.

It was not awesome. I’d been stuck in this damned forest for hours. At first, everything was fine. I’d met Wade’s smuggler friend, who talked way too much, and the mission was simple: we had to take out a drug lord with a bounty on his head. But we hadn’t expected the guy to be armed to the teeth with alien weaponry. We found out the hard way after Wade mocked the boss’s haircut, and the guy fired a laser that left a huge hole in Wade’s abdomen. Logan barely had time to grab him, and I managed to teleport us into the forest. The problem was, we didn’t know where we were and had lost track of our target.

“Do you smell anything?” I asked Logan.

“They’re not nearby. We can rest while this idiot regenerates,” replied the mutant, still on guard.

He didn’t seem bothered by the surroundings; his powers helped with that. Wade, on the other hand, still hadn’t regained consciousness. Watching his broken body was both fascinating and gross.

“Did you talk to Laura last night?” Logan suddenly asked.

“Yeah, we chatted a bit… she wants to spend some time with us,” I replied, a little uncomfortable with this conversation. Co-parenting was challenging enough, but adding a multiverse element made it insane.

“I know, she told me,” Logan replied. “If you’re not comfortable with it, don’t feel obligated.”

Honestly, I wasn’t comfortable with it. I started fiddling with my coat sleeves, avoiding eye contact, and instead focused on Wade’s wound.

“No, it doesn’t bother me,” I replied in a small voice. “But this whole situation is completely crazy.”

“Tell me about it,” he said, smiling.

He was really handsome. I’d never been a superhero fan, but I’d always had a crush on Logan, and seeing him in real life was pretty overwhelming. The TVA had offered to send me back to my universe, but I’d refused. That would’ve been even weirder—to be in a world without mutants, with teleportation and healing powers. That would complicate things, especially if I lived as long as Logan.

“I’m sorry for getting us lost,” I said, lifting my head. I couldn’t control my powers, and I didn’t even know if Dreamwalker was a real character in the comics.

“It’s alright. The most important thing is that you got us to safety. And the real problem is this idiot. He’s the one holding us back,” Logan said, pointing at Wade. He hadn’t enjoyed the plane ride, and it was a miracle Wade’s buddy was still alive.

“Do you still want to finish this mission?” I asked, a bit resigned.

“Damn right, we’re finishing this mission!” said a voice behind me. “Look at what he did to my suit. I just patched it up! People have no respect,” the mercenary said, examining the damage. “And look at you, Mr. Grumpy—there are bloodstains everywhere. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get that out of this beautiful yellow suit I just stitched up?”

“By the way, how did you fix it? Because from what I remember, there was nothing left to save,” I asked.

“For convenience, I’d say it’s magic, even though I know you loved the old suit, you little pervert,” Wade replied.

I couldn’t help but lower my head, blushing. I could feel Logan’s eyes on the back of my neck. It was true, I’d had trouble forming a complete sentence after he’d disappeared.

“So, what’s the plan now?” I asked, hugging myself and trying to change the subject. But Wade kept staring, and even under the mask, I could guess his little smile and nonexistent eyebrow wiggle.

“We’re gonna kill that guy, then celebrate with mojitos. Come on, gang!” Wade said, clapping his hands and starting to walk.

I shot a small glance at Logan, who hadn’t taken his eyes off me.

“We’ll finish our conversation later,” he said. I nodded in response. “Not that way,” Logan yelled at Wade.

“I know, I was testing you,” Wade said, turning back. “Is it this way? No question, I totally know where I’m going.”

Logan groaned but followed Wade. It was the first time he’d gone this long without trying to maim the mercenary. And honestly, I already pitied the guy with the ridiculous haircut and his henchmen.

[rosewaterandivy]

Live from New York…

Summary: a meet cute for everyone’s favorite rockstar!eddie and head SNL writer/weekend update anchor gf

WC: 4204 🫠 (my hand slipped)

Pairing: rockstar!eddie x screenwriter!gf

Warning/Themes: work related stress, smitten Eddie, hectic SNL schedule built around cocaine, meddling actor!steve harrington, encounters in close quarters, Eddie wearing Le Labo Santal 33– which should be a warning all its own, my usual brand of filth™️

A/N: we’ve had our meet cute with actor!steve, now it’s Eddie’s turn!

Series masterlist | playlist | currently spinning:

At Studio 8H, you always hit the ground running on Mondays. Hopefully, you’d lazed away or slept off the hangover from the after-party on Sunday, but sometimes you weren’t so lucky.

Today was one of those days.

A subway ride from hell, you were pretty sure your bodega guy was mad at you (again), and the inevitable spins and mouth sweats which could only mean—

“Hey killer!” Pete greets, towing the week’s host and musical guest behind him.

And because this situation could only get worse, you hold up a solitary finger and duck into a nearby dressing room to puke and rally.

“Fuckin’ Mondays, am I right?”

A rich voice greets you as you make your entrance back into the hallway, someone wearing a panoply of rings shoves a cold water bottle in your hand while you push your sunglasses up the bridge of your nose.

“Y’alright there, boss?”

A nod as you guzzle some water.

“Just peachy, Davidson.” You heave a sigh, grimacing as you make eye contact with the host, Steve Harrington, and one fifth of the musical guest in the form of Eddie Munson. “Sorry for the uh—" you gesture vaguely to the dressing room.

“No worries,” Steve says with a smile, “We’ve all been there.”

Eddie, for his part, snorts a laugh.

“Charmed,” you chirp, readjusting your canvas tote on your shoulder and resuming your walk down the hall.

“Pitch meeting in 5!”

_

The Monday meeting was always a wash. Pitches that were half-formed or outright veto’d by Lorne or the host, and Pete giving the same pitch for the fourth month running that no one bit at.

Typical.

Steve was affable enough, charming in the way only an actor could be, easy to laugh and joke. Eddie Munson, however, was all long-limbed ease and looked at you in a way that was unnerving.

No matter. You didn’t have the time to contemplate why the frontman of Corroded Coffin irked you, not when the cast members were especially needy for your attention and the writers retreated to the conference room.

“Chloe,” you huff as the small blonde trails after you, mouth going a mile a minute about a new impression she’d perfected.

You stopped short at your office door, causing Chloe to bump into you. With a slow turn, you try to smile in a well-meaning way, sunglasses sliding down your nose again.

“Can this wait until later?” Your hand twists the handle, allowing you to slip inside the room and escape the sad fall of her face. “I promise you’ll have my undivided attention this afternoon, okay?”

That seems to perk her back up. She gives you a smile and salute before trotting off back to her dressing room.

You sigh and slide back against the closed door, eyes slipping shut for the briefest of moments. Not open long enough to clock a mop of brown curls lazing on your couch.

“Exhausting being on top, isn’t it?”

Your eyes open only to land on Eddie Munson, laid out on your couch as if he owns the place.

“How did you get in here?”

You cross to the desk, heaving your tote onto it and peel the glasses from your face. Falling into your chair, you await his reply and open up your laptop.

Rooting around in your tote for your notes, you notice a coffee cup and danish at his side.

“Is that my cherry danish and cold brew?”

“Hmm?” He turns toward the sound of your voice. “Oh, this? An intern dropped it off.”

Eyeing the bite taken out of the danish, you sigh. “And you just assumed it was for you?”

“It’s not?”

“Unless Corroded’s rider has something about cherry danishes on it—“

“I just thought since your little performance this morning, you wouldn’t be in the mood.”

He sits up with a stretch, arms rising above his head, a sliver of skin visible above the band of his boxer-briefs.

Calvin’s, of fucking course.

You repress the need to roll your eyes. “How kind,” you say instead, flipping through your notes and typing a few ideas down.

“I thought so.” Eddie stands up, depositing the danish and coffee on your desk. “I’m more of a bagel and lox guy myself.”

“I’ll alert the media.”

He smiles slow, which is more attractive than you’d bargained for, annoyingly enough. His teeth are perfect against the plush pink of his lips, and he’s close enough, leaning against your desk, that you can smell the faint scent of his cologne— wood, leather, and violet?— cut through with a faint aroma of tobacco.

“I only have your best interests at heart, sugar.”

_

By Thursday, things started to even out. Some solid pitches turned into sketches, bumpers filmed and canned, and one only one sex dream about Eddie Munson.

You’d take what you could get.

It was basically inevitable, that fucker has been annoying you all week— popping into your office uninvited, sending the interns out for inane tasks just to get you alone, and, the real kicker, sending Harrington in as reinforcements.

“He’s not a bad guy,” Steve says, taking another bite of his lunch— subs from the Teamsters, your favorite day of the week.

“Munson?”

“Yeah,” he laughs, having made out your garbled phrase. “Ed just comes on strong, but he’s harmless.”

You roughly swallow and take a sip form your drink. “Whaddya mean?”

Steve pauses, sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Oh, uh,” he shrugs, “He likes you. Was that not obvious?”

You stare at him blankly.

Eddie Munson, attracted to you?

Yeah, when hell freezes over.

“He’s just razzing me,” you say, more to yourself than Steve.

He drops his sub on the wax paper and wipes his mouth with a napkin.

“That’s what you think?!”

“Well—" you sputter, indignantly. “If that’s how he shows his interest…”

Steve laughs, a bright and delightful thing. If only it wasn’t at your expense.

“Oh my god,” he wheezes. “Robin’ll get a kick outta this— holy shit.”

He pulls out his phone and sends off a text. The next thing you know, his assistant is barreling through your office door.

“You’re shitting me,” is what she says, eyes cutting from him to you. Communicating in some secret language of eye contact and gestures that was wholly beyond you.

That lunch was the last semblance of peace you’d had for the week before Eddie Munson began wooing you with increased vigor.

_

By Saturday, you’d had just about enough of his nonsense. More flowers than you knew what to do with, mini fridge in your office stocked with all your favorites, the writers actually doing their jobs for once— which was honestly just creepy, but you’d allow it.

“What did he do?”

It was the final read-through before the dress rehearsal later that evening. The writer’s room was packed, and no one had tried to kill anyone else yet.

Truly bizarre.

“What did who do?”

“Cut the shit,” You grouse back. “Munson, what did he do, threaten you idiots? Promise backstage passes— what?”

A hang-dog new hire sighed. “Said he’d have our guts for garters if we fucked up your week.”

“Yeah,” someone else chorused. “Said we’d wish all those Satanic rumors were true once he was done with us.”

And, as a result, no one had tried to steal your Emmy this week, you occasionally went home at a decent-ish hour, and no one had unnecessarily barricaded themselves in their dressing room.

Huh.

Maybe Harrington had a point.

Eddie Munson attracted to you? It’s more likely than you think!

The thought eluded you through the dress rehearsal and show itself, but reared its ugly head at the after-party.

A successful show, a compliment from Lorne, and several drinks had you feeling warm and buzzy. Harrington had wrangled you up on a table when “Teenage Dirtbag” came on, assured you it would be fine dancing on tabletops in high-heeled boots.

All was well and good until someone spilled a drink on said table and nearly sent you toppling to the floor.

Strong arms gripped your waist, settling you against a broad shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

“The fuck was that?!” crowed up at Steve, the music far too loud for you to make out his response, before you’re carried from the dance floor to the coat check room and placed back on your feet.

Right side up, Eddie looks flushed and concerned, checking your face and body for any signs of injury.

“You okay?”

Voice softer than you’re used to, not the gruff exterior or persona he plays into for the public. And, it’s nice. You’re just buzzed enough not to be horrified at the realization.

You laugh and press a finger into his heaving chest, “You like me, dontcha?”

Eddie laughs, dodging your gaze as his chin tucks into his chest. “Honestly?” He says after a beat, “You scare the shit outta me.”

“What,” you pout, “Little old me?”

Your finger idly traces nonsensical shapes against the black cotton of his shirt. He takes a breath, watching the trajectory of your hand.

“Not in a bad way,” he allows, eyes finally dragging back to you. All warm umber and hints of whisky. His hand touches yours, bringing an end to your wandering fingers.

Eddie swallows audibly and cocks his head to the side. “You’re just so…”

“Intense?”

There’s that slow smile again. He takes a step closer to you, hesitant as if he’s expecting you to push him away.

You don’t.

A shake of his head that frees a few strands from the low bun he’d dawned at curtain call. You brush your fingers against the soft curls and scruff of his jaw.

Eddie takes in a sharp breath, eyes closing minutely as his forehead rests against yours.

“You,” he breathes, voice low, “Are going to ruin me.”

Not a threat, but a promise.

A smile tugs at your lips. “Awfully presumptuous of you, Munson.”

“Call it a hunch, sweetheart.”

You close the distance between you with your lips. They slot into his with ease, your hand tangling itself into the curls at the nape of his neck.

He groans, something low from the cage in his chest and steps between your legs as your eyes fall shut. Your back hits the wall, his hand cradling your head, thumb rubbing idly along your scalp.

Eddie smells divine, and you’re not sure whether it’s the drinks or your own hormones that are to blame. But he tastes even better, the burn of whisky a comfort as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.

You open beneath him like a night-blooming flower, lips, and legs parting with ease. A wet click when you part, allowing you to take a shaky breath in. He moves along your jaw, soft lips sponging kisses there before lighting upon your neck.

“Fucking hell,” you groan, head rolling back against the wall behind you, earning a low laugh from him.

Everything feels amazing, your skin is buzzing at his attention, hands desperate to grab hold and never let go.

As his hips cant into your own, you can feel the hot, hard line of him. Your eyes flying open at the sensation and the thought that you may very well die getting dicked down by Eddie Munson in a coatroom.

But oh, what a way to go.

He’s on you again, lips and tongue eager for entry, before you can say anything stupid. Your mouth opens with a stuttered breath as Eddie slowly grinds against you.

He’s saying something, praises falling from his lips but you can’t possibly reply. Too wound up from arousal to be any sort of conversationalist. The pressure against your clothed heat is just right, and you’d like nothing more to get his pants off and ride Eddie to kingdom come.

That is until Steve Harrington barrels through the door.

“Oh shit,” he says, stifling a laugh. “My bad.”

He’s in and out in two seconds, but the mood is broken.

Eddie’s head rests against your shoulder while he catches his breath. You can feel the heat of his flush against your neck.

“So,” he begins, voice a low rasp. “I guess—"

“Your hotel is closer.”

He perks up at that, head rising from your shoulder with a quirked brow.

“Essex House, right?”

Eddie nods, picking up what you’re putting down. He scrambles for his phone, texting something before grabbing you by the hand and leading you out of the club and into the brisk New York night.

_

Falling back against the plush comforter, you drag Eddie down with you. Teeth clicking against each other in the effort. He huffs a laugh into your mouth, pushing you back against the pillows on the bed.

“You’re a pretty good kisser,” you say, propping up on your elbows.

“I may have heard that once or twice,” he says, tugging his shirt up and his head before tossing it elsewhere.

You make quick work of his jeans, while he occupies himself with mapping the geography of your body with his lips. He nips at your hip, earning a squeak of surprise from you as his arms cage you in.

His hair, now loose from the torment of your hands, tickles as it drags along your exposed skin. Eddie popping open the buttons of your blouse torturously slow.

Your lips claim his once more as his finger skims against the soft curve of your breast. You shudder at the sensation, unable to focus on anything except him.

Half-lidded eyes gaze down at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. With a roll of your eyes, you wiggle out of your shirt and pop the button of your trousers.

He’s quick to follow, fingers pulling at the fly and tugging the offending fabric from your legs.

The second the damp lace of your thong makes an appearance, Eddie groans loudly— head falling against your hip.

“Oh, my god.”

Too pent up to feel bashful, you tangle your fingers in his hair and give it a tug. Another groan, lower and deeper than the last.

“So pretty,” he breathes against your heat causing you to shiver.

His fingers hook into the fabric and pull them down the plush of your thighs, lips skating across the sensitive skin as he goes. Eddie is back on you before you can sit up to take off your bra; tugging you up to settle on his lap while reaching around to expertly unhook the lacy garment.

Distracting you with a kiss, it takes you a minute to realize that Eddie has apparently been struck stupid at the sight of you bare before him. His eyes rove over what feels like every inch of your body, as if he could never get enough.

“Hey,” you prompt with a roll of your hips. It’s delicious and delightful, sending sparks straight to your core. A soft sigh before you continue, “How do you want me?”

That seems to wake him back up. Eddie shakes himself alive and says with a bite to your lips, “As many times as I can have you, sweetheart.”

He lays you gently back down and grabs a condom from the bedside table. Before you can offer your assistance, however, he’s back between your legs with a singular focus: making you come. Hard and frequent.

By the time you reach your peak for the second time, he’s three knuckles deep and two fingers in. Your babbling incoherently while he smirks up at you, occasional coos of “Doin so well f’me” and “You can take another, right sugar?”

You nod, impatient for your next orgasm. Who would’ve thought that Eddie Munson could turn you into a needy brat without even seeing his dick?

Certainly not you.

“Eddie,” a broken pathetic whine from you. He’s worked in a third finger, impossibly, and you’re about to explode.

Pulling his lips from you clit, he glances up, lips and chin wet with your slick. “Yeah?”

The lighting in the room is low and warm, only enhancing his features, eyes blown dark with lust and lips ruddied and swollen from licking and kissing.

Another whine as you make grabby hands at him, “Wanna come on your cock.”

He chuckles lowly, sponging a kiss at your hip. “That so?”

You nod dumbly and wet your lips.

He rubs along your g-spot and your eyes roll back into your skull.

“Hmm,” he hums, “Why don’t you come on my fingers again and then you can make a mess on my cock?”

Not the answer you wanted to hear, but you’re too far gone to care. A petulant pout on your lips, but before you can make your retort, Eddie does that magical thing with his fingers again making you keen as you come.

Your vision whites out briefly, walls shuddering at his ministrations wetly.

“There’s a good girl,” he says, voice silky and low. “Knew you could do it.”

Damp fingers grasp your chin before prodding at your lips. You open your mouth to suck at them, tongue grazing against the cool silver of his rings as he watches.

Faintly, you hear the tearing of the condom wrapper as he extricated his hand from your mouth. Calvin’s long gone now, Eddie fists his cock to roll the condom down his shaft. And you can’t seem to pick your jaw up from the floor.

He looks almost nervous, brows furrowed and biting his lip. You can see why— he’s got the biggest and prettiest dick you’d ever seen. Cockhead flushed a rosy pink as he strokes himself, and you're not the best at spatial awareness but there are definitely several inches of him to reckon with.

“Hey,” you say with a swallow, mouth having filled with saliva at the sight of him. A jerk of your head, “C’mere, honey.”

With a smile, he returns to you. Kisses laved to your chest, neck, and finally lips while he situates himself against your petaled heat. Bumping against your abused clit, you sink back into the pillows with a moan.

Hands loosely cradling his collar and legs wound high against his back, you pull Eddie down for a slow kiss as your rock up against his shaft. He licks messily into your mouth as one of your hands snakes down to guide him inside.

He shudders at the sensation and the visual of your hand on his dick, small and dainty in comparison. “Fuckin’ hell.”

You hum contentedly. “You ain’t seen nothin' yet,” and drive the message home with a buck of your hips. His cockhead slips in, stretching you slightly but not unpleasantly.

He pauses, not wanting to hurt you or go too quickly just for it to happen again— too big, can’t fit. Surprisingly, you shimmy working him further into your cunt, inch by inch, until he’s buried to the hilt.

Eddie thinks he’s going to die like this— bottoming out in the girl of his dreams, all before he can blow his load or get you off like he wants to.

The stretch is good— hitting depths you didn’t realize were possible until now. Making your own efforts with the aid of your fingers and toys appear pathetic. You could vibrate out if you skin at the sensation— keyed up and pulled taught before he’s even had the chance to move yet.

You clench at the thought, causing Eddie to pant and moan against your neck. His left hand taps at your right leg.

“Can you raise that up, just a little?”

You acquiesce, and he thrusts experimentally. The angle changes everything, causing your blood to thrum and punching the breath from your lungs. Right leg wrapped around his waist while the other rests lazily against his hips.

Eddie kisses you quick, tongue eager as he works you open. You can hear the smack of his skin against yours, both damp with the exertion, accompanied by a sound and sensation wholly unfamiliar to you.

There’s a wet squelch when he bottoms out every other thrust or so, and the coil in your gut gets pulled tighter and tighter. Heat and pressure are building in your cunt and radiating outwards.

You jolt upwards, breasts brushing against his chest, nipples hardening in the cool air. “Eddie I’m—" your voice catches in your throat, a tear falling from your eyes and cascading down your cheek.

Before he can see your unintended emotional display, you bury your face into the curve of his neck with a gasp. His hips stutter as you draw closer, neck growing damp with your tears.

“Shit. Did I—"

You quiet his concerns with a shake of your head, “No baby, I’m good. Keep going.” And with a languid roll of your hips, you seal the deal.

Eddie’s thrusts slow, the angle forcing his pelvis to tilt and drag exquisitely against your clit. Your head drops back against the pillows. He licks his lips and watches your mouth fall open with interest. He loves the way your eyes can’t seem to focus, the way your tongue lies heavy in your mouth, the way you try to hide from your pleasure, but he knows you’re excited.

Your next orgasm crashes upon you like a tidal wave, walls fluttering like the wings of a frantic hummingbird. You nearly scream from the pleasure of it all, mingled with a pinch of pain as a gushing soak drenches the both of you.

Your body jerks forward, pinned by Eddie’s hips and the cage of his arms holding you close. You can feel him moving inside you in long strokes before he stills to let you ride it out.

“That’s never happened before,” you slur out.

“Yeah?” He smirks, resuming his thrusts, pace nearly brutal now— diving into you so fast and hard that your eyes well up with tears. It doesn’t feel like you’ll reach the peak again, feels like you’ve been on the cusp since the coat room.

Your brain is fried and completely blissed out— fucked stupid by a rockstar you'd known for a week. You can only gasp in clipped short breaths as the air is continuously punched from your lungs.

Eddie bites his lip, eyes fixed on the way his cock spreads your cunt. The way your pussy is glistening and cherry red from his ministrations.

“Wish you could see yourself,” he groans out. “Such a good girl, takin’ all of me.”

Eddie could be talking gibberish and you would still nod along, falling apart as you stutter and plead, begging for him. I want it. I want it. Iwantitiwantitineedit. I need you.

A few more strokes and Eddie comes hard, thick ropes of come released into the condom, shuddering against the clenching of your walls— tight and wet and hot. Your name falls from his lips in a broken moan causing you to break open, crying out pitifully and throwing your head back against the pillows.

And, god damn, he’s just so pretty. All pink lips and pupils blown wide, chest heaving with desperate breaths before he collapses on top of you.

You feel positively ruined for other men. It’s unbelievable, the way he’s seared his touch into your body and brain. And yeah, if you had a soul or whatever, probably that too.

It may not be the most orgasms you’d ever had, but it’s damn near close and certainly the most intense yet. Your body trembles against Eddie’s torso, while he sucks on your neck, murmuring praises into your ear. Calls you sweetheart, baby, good fucking girl. Keeps himself inside, nestled comfortably deep.

You’re likely to faint if he doesn’t stop— intense whispers, slow movements, and rubbing sweetly against your walls. Eddie drags another orgasm out of you, miraculously so, almost letting you forget how torn open he’s made you feel. Your toes curl and go limp again for what feels like the umpteenth time, plaint against him as you catch your breath.

He lands a soft, barely-there kiss against the lobe of your ear and wipes the sweat from your neck and brow away.

“You okay?” He asks in a whisper, sending chills down your spine. “You got a little—"

“Overstimulated, yeah,” you answer with a laugh. Your arms drape around his collar lazily. “I’m good,” you say with a smile, “Never better.”

“Yeah?” Eddie’s smile is a bright bashful thing. He ducks his head, like he can’t believe you’re real, and bites his lip.

“Gonna be pretty useless for the next couple of hours though.”

He glances back up at you. “Really?”

“Totally.” Your fingers card into his hair, working against his scalp. “This guy fucked me stupid and now I can’t feel my legs so.”

He laughs, the vibrations reverberating against your ribs before rolling off of you to discard the condom. His hand finds yours again in the near-dark, cool metal against the damp of your palm.

You lay beneath the fluffy duvet, facing Eddie. Your legs were entwined with his and he has a big, stupid grin on his face. You were sure your smile matched his own.

A phone trills into the still of the room, Eddie groans in frustration and grapples with finding it on the nightstand. He answers it with a huff of annoyance as Steve Harrington's voice cascades through the speaker.

“So…” he sings, the street noise of the city serving as background, “You guys fuckin’ or what?”

_

[ms-demeanor]

Oh hey since you just reblogged a post about this, can I get some tech advice? I have two old Dell laptops that are running slow bc (I suspect) dell has some chip installed that can tell if the charger is Dell brand and throttles the cpu if not. And they have since stopped recognizing their chargers. If I install linux, will that fix the issue? Or is it a hardware problem?

So there's not really a way that Dell can do that but realistically the computers are probably just running slow because they're old (5 years is the usable time we estimate for business laptops; after that they may continue *working* but they'll likely be too slow for our customers to consider them good work computers without some significant upgrades). But if they aren't recognizing the chargers there are 3 possibilities I can think of off the top of my head:

1 - It's a battery issue, not a charger issue. Over time batteries fail and will stop holding a charge no matter how long they're plugged in. The solution to this is to replace the battery, which you can usually do for between 20-45USD on amazon

2 - It's a charger issue. Your AC adapters may have both independently failed, it's possible! Low-cost non-OEM chargers often don't have particularly long lifespans, and replacing them may be the way to fix this.

Second possible charger issue is that it may be the wrong power level for the batteries. Sometimes you might look up something like "Lenovo e15 charger" and you'll see one that looks right but it turns out you've ordered a 45w instead of a 90w, and that is a pretty big problem. You need to make sure you're getting something with the exact specs for your specific computer. Here's an article about it. 

3 - It's a charging port issue. This is one of the more common problems we see on older computers; basically over time with enough plugging and unplugging the port that connects your charger to the motherboard comes loose. This is something that can be a relatively cheap and easy fix in some cases, or a really difficult fix if the thing is soldered directly to the board. Here's a video of someone replacing the charging port on a Dell Laptop for a general idea of what kind of work might be involved in fixing this.

Okay! Now for some basic troubleshooting! Please test for the following:

If the computers don't power on at all while the AC adapter is plugged in then the issue is either the AC adapter or the power port.

If the computers power on while plugged in but they don't hold a charge, the issue is the battery.

If the battery holds a charge for some amount of time (over an hour) but takes forever to charge, then the problem is that you aren't using the correct AC adapter.

If the battery doesn't charge, the computer doesn't come on, and it's the correct AC adapter you can possibly test the adapter with a voltmeter, test the adapter on another computer with the same power requirements, or disassemble the computer and check the power port connection to the motherboard.

But yeah if the computers are powering on at all, right off the top of my head I'd guess either it's a battery issue or a voltage issue with the adapter.

Linux would not help at all with those issues (though hopefully you've got someplace to start looking to resolve those problems now), but if your computer is running slow because it has older hardware that was designed for a different era of computer use (which can be as recent as 5 or so years ago depending on the specs) then a Linux install will likely help. Though keep in mind that if you do an OS swap you will not be able to run any of the programs you currently have for those laptops on those laptops. I think that Linux is good and want more people to use it generally, but I recommend Linux to new Linux users primarily when the computer they're thinking of installing it on is used mostly as a web browsing machine. An old computer with Linux Lite will generally run faster than an old computer with Windows, but if you're trying to get the old computer to play modern games it isn't going to be fast with either OS.

[essence-of-nothingness]

Airy is in his Mid-40s

I went ahead and wrote an entire doc about why I believe Airy to be in his Mid-40s. The full doc with the pictures and sources will be posted here uptop since I'm no sure if it uploaded correctly onto this post. https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DGRKfef2HYAS1AXyLZcMtRNLAFZXK0E_ui6mIYxzdvM/edit?usp=sharing

In this doc, I will explain why I believe Airy from ONE is in his Mid-40s. All sources and stuff will be at the end. Before we estimate what Airy’s age is, we first need to find out the year the ONE takes place to set the bar. When does ONE take place?

Year

  I believe that ONE takes place in the great year of 2023. Why? Well first of all if you look in the calendar in Bryce's workplace (Episode 7: Starting Over) you will see that it's in February

       Not just any February, specifically one with only 28 days which means that it is not a leap year. Using this information we can immediately cancel out any year that is not a leap year because it only has 28 days. Using this information we can immediately cancel out all leap years.

Additionally the 28th is on a Tuesday, so using this we can rule out any year where Friday did not end on a Tuesday. Leaving us only 3 years that take place in the 2000s those years being:

2006, 2017, and 2023 

But why specifically these three years and not anytime in the future or the 1900s? Well, that is because of the Technology that is present throughout ONE.

Technology

Throughout the series of ONE, we get to see some of the technology that our fellow protagonists use. For example in Episode 5 “Rhetorical Molds” we get to see some of the modern technology that is being used. Those being Charlotte/Moldy’s new Phone. If you look closely at the scene where Moldy lifts the phone to show off the camera quality you will notice that the bottom of the phone does not have a home button. This is significant because it shows that the new phones that were in the model at the time of Moldy’s disappearance were phones that didn’t have home screen buttons. This shows that ONE couldn’t have taken place in 2006 because during that time we didn't even have the modern smartphone or if we did it was still a brand new thing and had physical buttons that you could press. By the time that 2017 and 2023 began coming around home buttons were becoming irrelevant and began fading away.

Another technology is the Flat screen T.V., 2006 The televisions that were being produced were still big and blocky and they weren’t like the flat screens that we have today. In 2017 t.v.s were more likely to be flat compared to the one from 2006. By the time that 2023, flat screen TVs are very commonplace and are basically the first types of TVs that you see when you enter an electronic store.

         Lastly, we have Texty or well Texty’s computer/laptop seeing that it is mostly likely their version of an Apple laptop, considering if you look at the top left corner you see the three colored dots which are more commonly seen in that of an Apple laptop. Seeing that laptops from 2006 were considerably more chunky and heavier and seeing how in the show Liam wasn’t having much trouble carrying Texty around and didn’t mind his presence. Also considering that Bradly mentioned how the laptop served him well for quite a few years, I deduced that Texty was a more modern laptop which makes me think that ONE is not in 2006 because laptops in 2000 looked way more different than the one that Texty lives in.

Historical Events

In the very first episode of ONE “Freefall” when Amelia/Scenty is balancing on the pole she mentions how there were around 8 billion people on Earth. “No, I don’t think so but then again any normal person would find it safe to assume that this host picked us 6 specifically out of nearly 8 billion people on Earth….” This could mean that their planet has already reached the 8 billion population.  On our Earth, the human population had already reached the 8 billion point by the beginning of 2023, before February, which is when the Contestants got kidnapped.

But how do we even know if any of this applies to Airy’s Earth? Well, knowing from the show that Bryce lives in Bridgeport, Connecticut, Liam lives in San Francisco, California, and Jullian (toothpaste man) lives in France. We know for a fact that the characters (at least Airy and the 1st batch) live on an Earth that has the same geographical locations and countries as our world except humans are nonexistent. Additionally, we also know that the characters have names, jobs, and hobbies just as humans do. I think that it is safe to assume that they share the same technology and calendar year as us. 

Now that we have settled about the year that ONE takes place in now to get into the evidence I piled up as to believe why Airy is in his Mid-40s.

Truck Driving

First of all, considering that it has been around a decade since Airy died that leaves a 10-year buffer. Additionally, if we look at the ending screen in the series, we finally see that Airy is riding a Truck which many people believe to be a delivery truck considering the size of the steering wheel and the size of the seats. Here are two pictures of Airy’s truck and a delivery truck:

Another thing to consider when looking at these two pictures is that the seat that Airy is in is on the left side, which can also be seen if you look at his arm which is on the door window. This means that Airy drives on the right side of the Road and considering that he speaks English means that he most likely lived in the United States. According to United States law, you have to be at least 18 years old to drive a delivery truck but only in the state (Dot Transportation) most places won’t hire you unless you are 21 and you also need to provide a 10-year driving history of/record, for driving out of state (Prime Inc). Additionally, the age demographic for truck drivers is between the ages of 22-55. (Statista). So with all of this information, we could say that by the time 2023 came around at the bare minimum Airy was 28-31 years old. 

Though I don’t believe that Airy was 18 or 21 when he died and that is because in the scene when he does eventually die, he doesn’t look nervous about driving the truck. I guess you could argue that he was used to the experience of driving a truck but I don’t think that Airy would be that nonchalant about driving a truck if he was a brand new driver like if he were an 18-year-old or a 21-year-old. Additionally,, the article mentioned, if he wanted to drive out of state in the truck, he would have needed a lot of years of driving history which I don’t think that an 18 or 21-year-old has. So I'm adding 10 more years to it making it to be that Airy was 38-41 when ONE happens.

Cassette Tapes and Music Taste

One last thing that I would like to mention before I conclude as to why I believe that Airy is in his Mid-40s is his taste in music and Cassette Tape. Now let me explain what I mean. For starters Cassette players and tapes were a big thing in the late 1900s from the time they were introduced in the 1960 up until they began losing popularity thanks to the invention of the CDs in 1982 and their eventual rise in popularity in 1991. (Wiki and The Guardian) Although Cassette players did have theri time to shine in the 1980s.

Secondly For a lot of people the main age range when they end up picking their taste in music is in their teens, the ages can vary depending on the gender but for the sake of this lets just say ages from 11-16. (The Verge) In Fact since during our teen years we are discovering who we are we tend to begin experimenting with what type of music we enjoy. Once we reach adulthood we tend to stick to the music we listened to when we were younger because that's the music we grew to love. We begin to experiment with music less and less, especially since we have less time to ourselves to listen to music due to the business of adult life. (Put this on). 

Now to put all of this information together, let's propose that Airy was born in 1978, this could mean that in the 80s his family could have owned a cassette player like the one that he has in the show. Since cassette players were a big thing in the 80s there's a high chance that his parents could have owned one and gave it to him once he began entering his teenage years, which would you know would be when he turned 13 in the year 1991. 

Another thing about the 1990s and ONE, in ONE it is very well known during the finale of the series there is a song that plays Around the Bend. In the show itself, Around the Bend is a cover of the original song made by Pearl Jam. We know that Airy is somewhat a fan or to an extend enjoys their music since he has a cassette tape with the album “No Code” In fact in one of the Episodes (The Plug Dream) in the end credits scene you can hear him humming to the tune of Around the Bend. Well the band Pearl Jam formed in the year 1990 which is around the time that in my theory Airy was a teen. Later on in the year of 1996 the album No Code was released which was the album that Around the Bend came from, and Airy would have been around 18 at this time. 

Since people tend to stick to the music they listened to when they were in their teens and we see in the show that Airy still had the cassette player probably when he died, (considering that he had it with him when he ended up in the afterlife) I think it is fair of me to assume that Airy is at least 45 in the time of the show.

Conclusion/Timeline

1978: Airy is born

1980: His family buys/owns a cassette player

1990: Airy is 12; he cassette player is given to him or he just takes it; Pearl Jam releases first album

1996: Airy is 18; get the No Code album.

1996-2006: Airy spends his time training to be a truck driver; he gets a side hustle in carpenter stuff or  construction. Considering that Airy legit built an entire cabin all his own.

2006-2013: Airy becomes an official truck driver

2013-2023: Airy is Dead; works on ONE

All of the following information is why I firmly believe that Airy is in his Mid-40s. Of course I could be wrong since some of the stuff especially about Airy’s past is not told to us, but to me at least this makes sense. Thank you for reading my ramblings and have a good day. :)

[nrc-broadcasting]

Hii! It's me! The anon who asked about period cramps! Please call me Chronia btw! Soo I have another question, my school uniform has me wearing a white skirt 3 days out of the 5 days I go to school, and thankfully, on one of the days I mentioned, my PE uniform is there to save me. But in case of "emergencies", what should I do? And my mom said I should start bringing an emergency kit incase it happens, could you tell me the recommended contents for said kit? Thank you! Hope no more OBs get to you Yuu!(I heard you mention it in Lilia, I won't tell anyone though!)

‘Wine Stained’ Dress

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4th quarter of 8th grade and 9th grade as a whole has been squeezing me dry from start to finish. I’m not sure if a simple sorry would suffice for essentially ghosting this blog, but I remember having to delete Tumblr for a set period of time to make more room for schoolwork related files and photos so… I’m very sorry🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

“I find getting small pouches helps a lot with organizing things, especially if you have one big bag,” Yuu states, adjusting their chair a bit.

“I’d say extra underwear, first and foremost! And extra clothes,” there’s an audible pause as they drink out of their glass cup.

“Yes, both a top and pants or an extra skirt, in the case you’re ever wearing a dress when your period comes out of the blue. I’d suggest the top have built in bra pads or anything to support Samantha and Rachel,” Yuu vaguely gestures to their chest.

“In the case the dress your wearing also has built in pads, so you won’t have anything to worry about when changing out of it.

“Another I’d suggest is feminine wash! Sometimes water just doesn’t cut it, and it’s uncomfortable to walk around knowing down there isn’t completely clean.” They check something on their laptop as they take another sip of their drink.

“Another very obvious one is pads and panty liners. And tampons, if that’s what you usually use.” They turn back fully to the mic.

“But between you and me… I’d suggest using a period cup instead. Though that really depends on how hygienic you consider the bathrooms you use,” They shrug.

“But yeah, it’s cheaper despite the slightly uncomfortable way of putting it in.” They give out a low and sheepish chuckle.

“What else am I forgetting…” Yuu hums, pondering.

“Pain meds?” They tilt their head thoughtfully.

“Yeah, pain meds. Even if your period cramps are usually not that painful, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared! And it can be used for other things too, not particularly limited to cramps.

“Oh, you can also substitute the feminine wash with wet wipes free from alcohol, such as baby wipes.” They add on.

“Particularly because I’ve been hearing about how feminine wash actually messes up your PH level, but I’m not too sure about that. Could depend on the brand, so you’re kind of free to try out different ones.

“And a word of advice, I’d advise against cloth reusable pads. They usually need to be hand washed and rinsed multiple times to get all the blood out, so despite having saved money on period products, it goes straight to your household’s water bill. So yeah, a bit counterproductive, huh?” They chuckle.

“And a very, very particular suggestion for something in the hygiene kit is a nail cutter. Since you’re going to be wiping and washing down there, it’s better to make sure you won’t hurt yourself with long nails.” They add on.

“And… that’s about it! You can ask around more female people in your life for any additions, but those are usually what you cab find in hygiene kits!” They say happily.

“—that’s about enough from me about this topic, I hope I helped!”

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Our fairytale has come to an end.

[ash-whimsicalfanfic]

Serendipity (CH 5)

Leroy Jethro Gibbs X Fem OC/Reader

Word Count: 2586

Warning: Mild language, fluff, smut, angst, graphic scenes, death, murder, gore, violence, mature material…

Prompt: You have a major crush on Gibbs, however you choose to push it away as you fear he doesn’t feel the same way. Suddenly there is a bunch of chances that lead to a happy ending…

I was calm now and Abby fixed my makeup for me. She had an extra shirt for me to borrow. It was a black crop top with a plunge neckline. I had more chest area than Abby so I pulled at the shirt trying to cover it some. It had some chains criss-crossing across it and there was a skull with a bow on the shirt.

"You look great! Now go kick some ass...and save that camera and sketchbook." She says.

I laugh, hugging her before taking the stairs. It goes silent in the bullpen as they look at me. I shift uncomfortably.

"I-I didn't have an extra shirt. A-Abby lent me one of hers." I mumble.

Gibbs walks to my desk, grabbing my blazer as he throws it at me. Tony catches it before it could hit me in the face like it would have. He gives me a small smile, handing it to me. I nod slightly, shrugging it on as I go to my desk.

I open my sketchbook, grabbing tissues to soak up some of the coffee. It was effortless, but it kept me distracted. I grab my camera, pulling out cleaning wipes to clean it up. I turn it on and was relieved to see that it worked. I move the pictures over to my laptop before sending them to Tim and Abby.

I open my sketchbook and work away at it in silence despite the tension I felt. I could feel his eyes on me and it made me want to shrink away and disappear.

I start pulling the sketches out, pinning them to my empty bulletin board. I study them, trying to ignore the coffee stain. I grab the sketchbook and throw it in the bin.

"Problem, Y/L/N?" Gibbs asks.

"Boss, she has to have clear paper. It bothers her if it isn't. I think the coffee is making her upset." Tim says quietly.

"Y/N/N, don't you have an extra in your drawer?" Ziva asks softly.

I hated this. I was being treated like a baby since this stupid accident. I pull the sketches down, shoving them in a drawer as I grab my keys and my phone, jogging towards the elevator.

I was in the closet art store within minutes. I stood in the sketchbook aisle for a good twenty minutes, just staring.

"Ziva said you'd be here." Gibbs mumbles, moving to stand beside me.

I continue staring at the sketchbooks. I was kind of mental over my sketchbooks. I knew I was. But, I've never experienced something this bad before. Not to mention on top of this last week.

Gibbs stands next to me silently, observing me. I tried to keep my cards close to my chest, not wanting him to figure me out. I was falling to pieces and the only person who knew was Abby.

I step forward, grabbing a pile of sketchbooks and adding them to the cart. I got three different sizes, all the same color. I got like ten of each one. Hopefully it'll be awhile until I need more. I push the cart to the pencil aisle with Gibbs silently following behind me.

"Your trying to find a sense of control." He murmurs from behind me.

I keep silent. Maybe he was right. Maybe he was wrong. Either way, I found myself angered that he was trying to profile me. I reach out, grabbing a pack of sketching pencils to read the back. It's the brand I always get, but I found peace in reading the description on the back before tossing a bunch of packs of pencils in my cart. I found myself drifting through the aisles, tossing random stuff in my cart before paying.

I get to my car, ignoring Gibbs. I drive back, aware that he was right there behind me. I grab the bags and head towards the building. I try going for the stairs, but he grabs my arm and pulls me into the elevator. I stay silent, even when he presses the emergency stop button.

"I shouldn't of snapped at you earlier." He admits.

"Rule six." I mutter.

"I didn't say I was sorry. I just admitted I was in the wrong earlier." He says, quirking a brow at me.

"Sounded like an apology." I mutter.

"Maybe it was. Look, I shouldn't of snapped. I had no right. Your right though. I was jealous. It's hard not to be jealous though. The thought of losing you...it's a hard one to grasp." He admits quietly.

"Your the one who said we can't do this and I should just lose my feelings for you. Your the one who said I should find someone else. All because of your stupid rules." I snap.

"I know...can we talk after this case is done? At my house over some steak and beer. Please." He asks.

I stare at him for a moment before nodding slowly. I wasn't sure if this was a good idea. It probably wasn't. He probably was going to explain how we couldn't be together and why. Did I want to hear anymore bullshit? No. I didn't.

The elevator doors opening snap me out of my thoughts. Gibbs walks out, stopping as he waits for me to step out. I ignore the teams concerned stares as I walk to my desk. I sit on the ground, opening the drawer as I pull the coffee-stained drawings out.

"Next time I see that asshole, I'm going to deck him." I say.

"What?" Tim asks horrified from behind me as Gibbs chuckles.

"Who is she talking about?" Ziva asks surprised.

"Where has our innocent baby Y/N gone?" Tony asks.

I wasn't one for violence. I looked at the upside of...well everything. Even if someone made me upset, I tried to keep it together. I run out of room for my sketchbooks and sigh.

I look up when Gibbs grabs a pile. I was confused as he puts a pile in his bottom desk drawer before handing a pile to Ziva, Tony and Tim.

"There. You have plenty on hand and now everyone has them on stock in case you run out." He says, patting my head since he could ruffle it since it was up.

I pull out a new sketchbook, taking the plastic off it. I grab a pencil and start sketching the crime scenes away. I didn't like to redraw. It threw me off. It didn't feel right having to do it a second time.

Nonetheless, I finish them and hang them back on the bulletin board, tossing the other ones in the trash. I study the drawings, my pen between my teeth and my notepad rested against my knee.

I start writing away, glancing up at the pictures occasionally.

"Y/N?" I hear.

I look up and see the shrink. I let a puff of air out, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Yes?" I ask.

"I don't think we are done talking. You dodged all my questions. I won't let up until I get answers." She says.

"I died. Then Gibbs brought me back. I died again on the ambulance. They brought me back. Then I was in a hospital for two days. Alone on one. Talked to the shrink there. Went home. Dreaded not being able to work a week, but now I'm here. I'm fine. Can you please leave me alone now?" I ask.

"I talked to the therapist at the hospital. Who said you also dodged their questions. You never should have been discharged until you properly answered the questions. That is why I'm not letting up." She says.

"I'm this bloody close to decking you. Your really starting to piss me off." I grumble.

Thankfully, Tim only heard me and he slowly turned to me with wide eyes. I tilt my head at him, narrowing my eyes, daring him to say something.

"She's great! She's just a little grumpy from her run in with this guy earlier. He spilt coffee on her." Tim says.

"Your intimidated by her. From what I gather, she's typically happy and bubbly. However, she seems to be quiet, distant, agitated, on edge and even a bit angry. None of you are use to this side of her." She says.

I take a deep breath in before slowly letting it out. My phone rings and I give her one final glare before answering my phone.

"Hey Abs, what's up?" I ask.

"The shrink lady is coming to talk to you! She wouldn't stop asking questions and more questions and I snapped! But I was trying to understand why she won't stop prying because she doesn't even do that on Ziva or Gibbs! So I did some digging! She's the wife of the get-away unsub who tried to kill you!" Abby exclaims.

"Thanks Abs. I'll be down here in a bit. Relay the message to Gibbs." I say.

I smile, hanging up the phone as I look at the shrink. She taps her clipboard as Gibbs' phone rings. I stand, walking towards her. I heard Gibbs set the phone down and I pull my fist back, hitting her in the nose.

She sways before falling back. I look down at her before heading back to my desk. It was quiet and I look up, smiling.

"Boss!" Tim exclaims.

"The man who tried to kill Y/N...that's his wife. She wanted to see if she remembered her husband or not." Gibbs says, shrugging.

"Did you know? Is that why you said you wanted to deck her earlier?" Tim asks.

"I didn't know then. She was making me mad. I feel better now. A lot better. I think I just needed to hit someone!" I say, smiling.

"Let's not make this our way of letting our anger out." Gibbs says, giving me a lopsided smirk and I shrug. 

"You can always come with me to the gym. They have some punching bags there." Ziva offers.

"I'll take you up on that." I say.

"There is also other ways to let your anger out, Y/N. It can be with a lover, between the sheets, hot...passionate and anger. Ah! I'll stop boss! Please don't hit me!" Tony pleads as Gibbs slowly stands.

"I don't have a lover, Tony. So a punching bag will do." I say.

"You gonna fill us in on what you know, Y/L/N?" Gibbs asks.

"On what?" I ask.

"The case of course." He says in a duh tone.

I scramble up, my cheeks flushing red as he chuckles. I grab a random clear board we keep nearby just because I do my sketches and hang them up before putting them at the front of the bullpen. I stand, staring at the board from the end of the bullpen.

"Alright, the unsub stood between two big oak trees for awhile. I'd say he's been watching out victims the past two to three days at most from the cigarettes on the ground. He had perfect view through the window and the sliding doors. Through the window, he could see the kitchen and living room. Through the sliding doors, he could see the hallway. Our unsub slips in, walks to the living room, pulls the gun out, bam. Husband is dead. The wife was the target." I say, the scene unfolding around me once again.

"How do you know that?" Tim asks.

"The husband was shot execution style. However, the wife underwent extensive pain. She was stabbed in the chest several times, each wound reaching her heart. Maybe a way of communicating his heartbreak or jealousy. Then postmortem he went to overkill by one shot to the head, bam. He took his time with the wife from the report I gathered from Ducky. She went through tremendous pain and was awake." I say.

"Why was the living room trashed then?" Tony asks.

"Well, earlier that night before the couple was murdered, the neighbors filed a noise complaint which then turned to a domestic violence call once the dispatcher gathered that there was screaming and some furniture could be heard breaking. The officers came and went, hesitant. The fight picked back up after, before the two went to separate rooms. From what I could gather, they seem to be on rocky terms. Her ring was in the sock drawer and she had the bedroom. He was sleeping in the living room." I say.

"So, what about the unsub in all of this?" Tim asks.

"I'm going to say that it's safe to assume that the wife walks to her room to take a breather, maybe go to the master bath and splash some water on her face. Then the unsub comes in from the sliding doors. The husband, our marine sergeant, wasn't paying attention. He was trying to cool down himself and get a grasp on his temper. There's a painting above the fireplace. It's of their wedding venue. He was staring at it when he heard a noise. He turns around, bam. The unsub fires of a shot before he could fight. Unsub hides around the corner as the wife comes to investigate when she hears a big thump and finds her husband dead. Then the unsub attacks her." I say.

"I like it. Now, we need to determine who our unsub is." Gibbs says.

"I've narrowed it down a bit. I found a boot print and a bunch of cigarettes between the trees. Abby is still running some tests on the cigarette buds. However, the boot print is a size thirteen marine boot. The pattern is one to the marine boots. Could be a buddy of the husbands maybe. I'm going to estimate that he's about six two with a heavy build or he's heavier set because the weight left behind on the boot print." I explain.

"Any profile?" Ziva asks.

"Again, I think it's safe to assume the wife was the target. The couple is our only murder so far and hopefully it stays that way. So, it's kind of set it in stone that the unsub is more than likely an ex-lover, the baby daddy, a jealous friend of the husbands friend who wanted the wife, or maybe this man knew something we didn't and thought he was protecting the husband. However, that's a leap as he did kill the husband. The wife was the target. She was overkill. I'd suggest that it stems from betrayal, jealously and definitely anger. With how motivated he was for the murders, I'd also like to suggest that he's going to be quite cool and laxed about this. He's probably narcissistic, has strong views on a woman's role, temper-issues and I'd say even paranoid. However, I don't have enough to build on the profile so it very well could be wrong." I say.

"What does your gut say?" Gibbs asks.

"That I'm hungry." I say and everyone chuckles, including Gibbs.

"We will go get lunch soon." He says.

"Okay. However, aside from being hungry, I feel pretty confident about the case built and the profile I presented." I say.

"Then we will go with your word." He says.

I sit, feeling relieved we were closer to the end of this case. However, it did make me nervous at the thought of the end of the case. That meant I'd have dinner with Gibbs and I was dreading it. I knew how it'd go.

[theozma]

100% aware that this number is trifling to most people. however! my computer is....between 5-7yr old. 8gb ram. i just rp the battery.

playing the sims (at reduced everything AND laptop mode) still drains my brand new battery. brand new!

it is also laggy af and i need to remove like 8gb

i have no idea what to remove. i know the answer is remove cc! but...idk. i have so much cc i don't want to part withhhhhh!!!!! cc i *might* use. YOU DON'T KNOW. IT COULD HAPPEN.

also not signing up for sims patreons (i still am unhappy some creators seem to never change their patreon to free 6-8mo later) and dl-ing large swathes of content. i had a whole couch plan in my head i was going to explore but NO. NO LONGER

please know i have ZERO idea if adding more ram solves the problem. truly. rp my battery was so stressful. i even did it right and didn't realise bc i didn't think about charging up a new battery. i took laptop and battery to ufix it. they very kindly put it back in (i'd taken it out bc i was convinced i fucked it up). however! the nice ufixit man offered to rp my screws bc i had 4. so he rp one screw so efficiently it burst through the top part of my laptop and stuck out and i couldn't put my hand down. i had it removed. there is now a tiny hole on the top of my laptop. he felt bad and offered to buy a special putty to fill the hole. i told him not to bother bc the correct screw (that i provided) covered the bottom of the hole.

did i mention i *specifically* bought asus screws designated to work with my exact kind of asus. which was a hilarious flop bc none of them fit.

[poetslore]

Things I noticed on my most recent “Coraline” rewatch: part 1

1. THE COMPUTERS: at the beginning of the movie we see that Coraline’s parents are ignoring her for their work, more specifically a gardening catalog they have been working on. That’s when I notified the computers. Coraline’s mother has a lap top, it appears to be brand new mostly because around the time this movie was made laptops were just becoming popular, while Coraline’s father has a 90s style box computer, he even appears to be using an older program to write his section of the catalog. How I interpreted this is that Coraline’s mother seems to be more sophisticated or materialistic. We see that she dresses far nicer than her husband and of course the Lap top. Coraline’s father is far more laid back, his clothes are messier and he seems to enjoy Coraline’s presence far more than her mother.

2. THE DOLL: the first night at the house, Coraline lies down in bed (the dinner transition) glanced at her poison ivy rash and then talks to the picture of the friends she left behind in Michigan, when the camera pans over we see that the doll is looking at Coraline as she lays on the bed, later, when Coraline wakes up at the sound of mouse, the doll is no longer looking at her, this is because the other mother is using the mouse to spy on Coraline and guide her, not the doll like she does during the day.

3. ONE NOTE PIANO: when Coraline first enters the other world she meets the other mother and she is then told to go fetch her other father who is in his study, for dinner. When Coraline enters the study we can see that the other father is tapping on a singular piano key, almost as if he’s in a trance, he had no purpose because Coraline isn’t around him, then about two or three seconds later he notices Coraline’s presence and acts giddy and excited and plays the “making up a song about Coraline” piece. I took this as the other mother “activating” the other father the second Coraline was near him.

4. NO FOOD?: the iconic dinner scene. On Coraline’s first night in the other world, the other mother cooks her an elaborate welcome dinner. During this dinner Coraline piles the food onto her plate (it’s appearance and likely taste is far better than her fathers tragic cooking in the real world) and then we see the other father, who also piles food onto his plate, but there’s one outlier here, the other mother. The other mother doesn’t pile food onto her plate, despite spending time on an elaborate dinner, which you’d then expect she’d want to feast on her labors, she sits there, her porcelain plate empty as she watches the others eat. I interpreted this in two way. First, the other mother is ancient, she doesn’t need to eat to survive. At least, she doesn’t eat food to survive, she eats the souls of children. Secondly, she is far more focused on Coraline, pleasing the blue-haired eleven year old girl and manipulating her rather than the food, and eating it like a regular “human being”

5. SMART COOKIE: once again this takes place during the dinner scene. Coraline has just received her welcome home cake when the other mother offers for them to play a game. At this point Coraline is growing a little suspicious for a number of reasons. She likely got a gut feeling that something a little malicious and uncanny was happening, the other mother and the other father knew she was coming based off of what the cake said (there’s no way they should’ve known she was coming, without magic of course), then the other mother asks to okay a game Coraline’s mother in the real world hate games. But we really see her first grow truly uncomfortable when the other mother taps her fingers against the table, something that Coraline’s real mother does quite frequently. It is clear that the other mother made this movement in an attempt to make Coraline feel comfortable, to make her feel like she was around her actual mother, but the girl doesn’t fall for it. She actually finds it strange and it just tacks into the pile of strangeness that has taken over the dinner. Then the lightning strikes after Coraline says there is no rain and at this point Coraline is deeply unsettled. She’s one smart cookie if you ask me.

6. “SEE YOU SOON”: despite the fact that Coraline showed extreme discomfort at dinner and on the way up to her bedroom the other mother and the other father say “see you soon” as she falls asleep. I interpreted this as: The other mother knew that the talking stuffed octopus and the chomping turtle wouldn’t convince Coraline something weird wasn’t going on there or wouldn’t ease that discomfort, but she did know that creating false versions (Coraline doesn’t know this) of Coraline’s “best trolls” aka her best friends from Michigan would comfort her and make her more open to coming back. She knew that Coraline would come back, she knew that she won this round simply based off of bringing Coraline’s “best trolls” to life.

This is where I stopped. I got tired lol. I will continue watching and update more on what I notice

[gayf1hoe]

Part 1

As I sit down with my bowl of cereal I begin to open my laptop and see an abundance of emails that I have ignored over the course of the past few weeks, because I've been having a full media and work detox.

As the emails load I see the latest email is from Gunther so I decide I best not ignore it otherwise if I ignore it like I did when I first joined the team he will give me a lecture about how rude it is to ignore emails. Opening it I scan it with my eyes whilst spooning my cereal into my mouth. I read that Gunther has called for a meeting for today which isn't much of a surprise given it's only a few weeks until pre-season testing and I don't even know who my teammate is. After last season I need a good teammate. Nikita was a great person but a terrible teammate. It was like Haas had only one driver driving for them because he spent half of his time spinning off the track or going into the wall so this year I need a teammate who will be able to score points alongside me.

I continue scrolling through the emails and curse myself for putting myself in this position, when people say F1 drivers just drive a car they are so wrong. They should try keeping up with all the emails and brand deals we have to do.

I finish my breakfast and quickly jump in the shower and dig out an outfit from my draws that are more than due a clear out but that's very far down on my very long to do list that never seems to be fully complete.

I double check I have everything before shutting the door to my apartment and heading to the factory where the meeting is, thankfully it isn't far away as when I joined Haas I bought an apartment close to the factory and moved.

As I approach the entrance I am handed my ID pass and make my way to Guenther's office. The building has become like a second home to me, in fact I have probably spent more time here in the past 2 years than I have at home, it's full of loads of Haas memorabilia such as the burnt Halo that saved Grosejans life, or the chassis of previous cars. Unfortunately the trophy cabinet isn't as grand or as full as Red Bull's or Ferrari's but it still displays the team's short history.

Eventually after greeting everyone who I haven't seen for a few months I reach the door of Gunther's office and confidently knock and wait for a response from within, it doesn't take long for him to say "come in".

Whilst he is my team principal he is also like a father figure to me and I would be lying if I said I didn't miss his dry humour and constant use of profane langauge over the course of the break.

I take a seat opposite him and see that there is another chair next to me so I assume someone else will be joining us shortly. We take a brief moment to catch up after the break and we discuss what we did and he asks if my swearing is under control yet. As last year every team radio and interview I almost certainly used a swear word, although I don't think he has much room to talk.

I could tell how stressed he was last year having Nikita crashing his car every 5 seconds, Dimitry threatening to pull out the Uralkali sponsor and having 2 rookies on his team was never going to be easy but I don't think he envisaged it being that hard, last year Haas managed to get 112 points all of which came from me so by the end of the year I was very burnt out and spent the entire break doing absolutely nothing.

The conversation bounces back and forth until there is a knock on the door causing silence to hit the room, Gunther goes over to the door and greets who ever is there but I can't see or hear who it is until Gunther moves out the way and motions to the chair, causing me to stand up and prepare to shake the person's hand what I didn't expect was to see that my new teammate was Carlos Sainz.

I knew Carlos was out of a seat this year, with much controversy behind it. I just never would have expected him to come to Haas, it's not that I'm unhappy with the team choosing him but he's going from one of the top teams to a team that is struggling to stay in the fight to be a midfielder.

Another reason I'm stood in silence is because well, Carlos is gorgeous there is no denying that and his natural charm makes him irresistible. I'm snapped out of my thoughts by Gunther repeatedly saying my name until I turn my head towards him and he then motions with his head for me to shake his hand. I shake his hand, make eye contact with him and say hello.

We both take a seat and Gunther walks around to his side of the desk, it kind of feels like you've been called to the Principal's office, even if you know you have done nothing wrong there is always nerves in your stomach.

"So Y/N if you can't tell by now Carlos is your new teammate" Gunther says in his typical blunt tone that makes me smile.

"Yes I had gathered that much Gunther"

We spend ages talking about media and contracts but it's more focused on informing Carlos on how the team works and what the expectations are although I can only assume they are a lot lower compared to Ferrari.

We are doing pre-season testing and revealing the livery in 2 weeks time so there are a lot of things to sort out in a short period of time. But after the meeting Gunther lets us go to lunch and it provides me and Carlos with an opportunity to get to know each other. before we go into the simulator for practice.

The lunch hall is quite full as the preparations for the next season are very much in full swing and with MoneyGram being the new sponsor there is a lot to change, I wish I could say I will miss having Nikita as a teammate but his father and Uralkali made my first season and absolute nightmare constantly accusing me of having a different or better car to Mazepin, I can't even begin count how many times my car was inspected by the FIA last year.

We collect our food and head to a quiet conference room as the dining hall is flooded by engineers, designers and loads of other staff that makes it barely possible to actually hear anyone. We eventually reach a quiet conference room and place our lunch down at the table before sitting down. For the initial 10 minutes we are just sat in silence before I'm the one to ask the first question.

"So why Haas, you must have been pretty desperate for that F1 seat? I say trying to break the silence with some humour.

"No, I wanted a team that would challenge me and I thought you would make a great teammate" as he finishes his sentence I have to look down because I can feel my cheeks blushing bright red like I've just seen my high-school crush.

He has great charisma, humour and looks and he is an extremely talented driver, the polar opposite to my previous teammate so I am elated at the fact he is my team mate although I'm sure my attraction to him will at some point cause a predicament that will arouse drama for us and the team. I can't help but admire him from the opposing side of the table, I probably look obsessed right now - but maybe that's an accurate description.

Throughout lunch we get to know each other more and more. He speaks about what it was like to have Charles as a teammate and I speak about what it was like to have Nikita as a teammate and I think I win at having the more Interesting stories.

But no sooner than lunch had started we have to go and do testing in the simulator which is an all too common thing in preparing for the season however I have never been a fan of simulators I don't feel they give the proper experience and plus 20 to 30 years ago there was no such thing as simulator testing and the drivers managed just as well. Me and Carlos go to separate rooms for the simulator tests and after we have to get our seats moulded so we don't see eachother until about 5 PM when we are allowed to go back home.

Unlike Carlos I live near the factory however he still lives in Spain so he's renting a hotel room. When we meet in the lobby I suggest we go for dinner at a nearby restaurant I know well and he agrees. We both head to my Audi and take a seat, "nice car" he compliments as he buckles his seat belt. We begin driving and in typical England fashion it starts to rain and the sound of rain pelting against the metal is a sound that feels the air of silence. But eventually Carlos sparks a conversation between us that is more personal and detached from racing.

"So do you have a partner?" He asks "nope, painfully single and probably will be forever" I reply further questioning "What about you?".

"Same, still single" he replies, "but sure someone with your good looks would be able to find someone" I instantly regret saying that it sounds like I'm hitting on him and he can clearly tell that I'm embarrassed.

"No need to feel shy, I am very honoured that you think I'm good-looking" whilst his response calms me, I still can't help but feel a little embarrassed still.

Shortly after making a fool of myself we pull into the parking bay of the restaurant and step out into the rain. We hastily rush into the restaurant taking refuge from the rain and are guided to our table by the waiter I know very well.

We are sitting down at the table and the waiter comes by again, "Now Y/N will it be the usual" he says whilst placing his hand on my shoulder, Carlos quickly averts his attention away from us and back to the menu after he's finished taking our orders Carlos comments on his behaviour.

"He's very touchy don't you think, maybe he likes you"

I laugh at his comment, "please I know his mother and he's so not my type"

"Well what is your type?" He presses on.

"The complete opposite of him" I state trying to give as little away as possible.

"Anyway, what's your type?" I ask, trying to deflect.

"Well I don't have a specific type I'm open to all kinds of people" He answers and as he finishes our food comes out putting an abrupt end to that conversation.

Over the course of dinner we talk about the plans for the forthcoming weeks and what the reaction is going to be like when everyone finds out that he's going to be driving for Haas. I can't lie, I can't wait to see the out roar of disappointment when they find out Carlos Sainz, one of the best drivers on the grid is in a Haas. I bet it's an image some can't even begin to imagine.

After dinner I drive Carlos back to his hotel which isn't too far from the restaurant and as I am about to drive off he invites me in.

"Hey, do you want to come in for a glass of wine?" He asks whilst undoing his seat belt.

"I can't, I'm driving" I say.

"Well you can just stay the night", I think about it momentarily and agree to come in. I quickly park the car and walk into the hotel with Carlos.

When we reach his room he quickly digs around in his pocket and pulls out his key card and opens the door. His room is more grand and well decorated than my own apartment and it's fixtures are more extravagant than anything I had ever seen.

Carlos walks over to the mini bar and pours two glasses of red wine and hands me one as I'm walking over to take a seat. I take a moment to admire the rest of the room, and wonder where Haas found the money in the budget for such a nice hotel.

We continue talking about our F1 careers and whilst mine is only 2 seasons old his is much more interesting than mine. We also talk about our personal lives, friends, family, relationships, hobbies and soon one glass of wine turns into a whole bottle.

Whilst I'm not drunk I'm certainly a little tipsy and probably not in the right mind frame to drive or walk home so I decide to take Carlos' offer of staying the night so I quickly get changed into some shorts and a t- shirt Carlos had given me and climb into the bed. Yes it's a little weird sharing the bed with my new team mate but I have known Carlos since last year so I guess it's not that bad.

A little after I had gotten into the bed Carlos comes out of the bathroom and gets into the bed next to me and turns the TV on.

"What do you want to watch?" He asks.

"I don't mind," I respond.

Shortly after he picks a TV show I drift off to sleep and don't really remember much.

Waking up in the morning I feel a headache and a slight hangover sweep over me. I hadn't had a single alcoholic drink since the last race of the season so it hit me pretty hard.

With my eyes feeling extremely sensitive the slight slither of light that bypasses the blinds peirces into my eyes causing me to let out an audible groan that causes Carlos to wake up.

"Are you ok?" He asks.

"Aside from a banging headache I should be fine" I say, pulling myself out of the bed and walking over to his table where there is a pair of sunglasses and putting them on to reduce the strain on my eyes.

I walk into the bathroom and have a shower all whilst keeping the sunglasses on my headache only seems to intensify as time passes.

I get changed in the bedroom whilst Carlos has a shower and we have to be at the factory in less than an hour so I only manage to have an apple and a glass of water for my breakfast and due to my headache I can't drive, so I entrust Carlos with my most expensive possession and pray he doesn't have an accident, but as he is an ex Ferrari driver I have faith in his competence and driving ability.

Although Carlos is a good driver I don't think he understands the speed limit is a limit and not a target and I'm sure when I go home there will be a speeding ticket in the post. However we do arrive much earlier than expected so I guess that's a positive. As we walk into the factory the smell of automotive oil is a smell that doesn't help my hangover at all.

We are left standing around for about 5 minutes before the head of Technical Engineering arrives and tells us what we are doing today, not before he questions me.

"Y/N is there a reason why you are wearing sunglasses indoors when it is winter?".

"I've got a little headache" I reply but he already knows.

"As long as your hangover doesn't impact your performance today I will look past it" he says unlocking the doors to the simulators.

Today is the day that Haas will announce that Carlos is joining the team and we have been informed we are filming a short video which will cause many people to have the shock of their lives.

3 hours of my day is spent in the simulator running through every single setting the car has and the different types of balance settings the car has. It's quite boring but it's also important.

The media manager comes by and pulls me and Carlos out to film the video and we have to do so many retakes because we can't stop laughing and I keep on saying "Uralkali Haas" instead of "MoneyGram Haas" but the final result doesn't show how many times we had to go through it.

"Hi guys my name is Y/N L/N, and I'm Carlos Sainz and we are the drivers for MoneyGram Haas F1 Team"

The team are then going to take that speech and make a promo using photos of me and Carlos in the sim and in our race suits and by 2 PM the video is out and the Internet is going wild especially the other drivers who had no idea Carlos was going to Haas.

I get a text message from George who knows about my slight crush on Carlos and says:

"Don't get too carried away" I laugh at his message and Carlos asks what I'm laughing at but I just say it's a meme, and technically I'm not lying because I am talking to the most meme-able man ever.

Over the course of the next hour the media is going absolutely berserk. They never saw this coming and quite frankly I can't blame them because I didn't either and I don't think Gunther expected Carlos to actually say yes.

Mid way through scrolling through the comments Carlos comes over and says, "I'm going out for dinner tonight with Lando, George and Alex and they told me to tell you that you are also invited" I thank him for telling me and I get back to doing some admin tasks to pass time and clear things off my extensive to-do list.

As the day progresses my hangover eases off and I manage to cope without wearing sunglasses and I vow to myself that I'm not going to drink for a few weeks, but these self promises never seem to stick.

I'm sitting in one of the conference rooms meticulously reading through emails, rules and regulation changes, and other miscellaneous things like sponsorship information. It's all quite banal and mundane but I'm in a great flow and manage to read most of the stuff that I had been tasked with so it should make Gunther and the management team very happy, last year I didn't really make an effort and didn't fully comprehend all the rules and may have accidentally touched Zhou's Rear wing in parc ferme and it was a costly mistake that resulted in me being shouted at by Gunther like a school child.

I decide that I have read enough for one day so I decide to collect my belongings and head down to the reception area to wait for Carlos. He is taking a while so I begin to pace up and down admiring the past cars that are on display showcasing the history of Haas, but eventually Carlos does turn up.

"Sorry I'm late, Gunther was lecturing me" he says sincerely.

"It's fine he does that often" I say putting my coat on and removing my keys from my pocket.

"So what restaurant are we going to?" I add.

"It's a Thai restaurant that Alex found, I'll drive if you want me to".

I think for a moment but see he clearly wants to drive so I chuck him my keys and we exit the building.

When we arrive the guys are already standing outside waiting for us and as we step out the car George is giving me his usual devilish smile that is insinuating something. We greet each other and shake hands and hug each other and they are all excited as they haven't seen each other in a few months. Despite being in F1 for a year I kept myself to myself and maintained a private life and didn't really connect with other drivers apart from George, Lance and Pierre so it's a little awkward for me as I have barely said 10 words to Lando or Alex.

We eventually head in and we are shown to our table. I try to sit next to Carlos but Lando gets there before me so I sit down in-between Alex and George.

I take this time as an opportunity to get to know Alex as we haven't really had much time to talk.

"So how's things going at Williams?" Is the first question that comes to mind but given the results of the season I can sort of make my own answer up.

"Yeah it was a tough season but we are working hard this year, anyway how are things going at Haas especially after Mazepin?"

"Going well, obviously I have a new teammate now so hopefully more points and hopefully the car spends more time on the track than in the wall".

He laughs lightly at my little dig at Nikita and then asks how I'm finding Carlos being my new teammate and I can't really think of an answer as we have only done two days of simulator testing so I can't really give a valid answer so I simply reply "it's going well, I think we get on" George hears my response and I see him pulling that grin again and I lightly hit his leg with my foot under the table causing his grin to dissipate.

Over the course of dinner Lando and Carlos are constantly touching each other and joking with one another and for some reason I feel angry, jealous?

I know I have nothing to be jealous of, it's not as if he's my boyfriend or even remotely interested in me so I have no idea why I'm feeling these feelings that are so irrational.

At one point Lando is holding on to one of Carlos' arms and I excuse myself from the table and head to the bathroom where I take a moment to just cool down and splash some water on my face. I don't intend to make an embarrassment out of myself over a guy I have only really known for 2 days. As I'm patting my face dry with the paper towel I hear the door behind me creaking open and see George enter.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"I'm fine just struggling with a hangover still" I reply.

"You know you are one of two people after Carlos and Lando is fierce competition. He won't let Carlos go that easily, but don't give up."

"I'm not after Carlos I'm after a race win and more points are the only 2 things I'm after in this world, besides relationships just get in the way" I start heading for the door and George places his hand on my shoulder.

"Believe me trying to block him out it won't work, I've seen Lando try and fail doing that. And you are teammates you are going to constantly be reminded of him"

"Thanks for the words of encouragement George" I say sarcastically before heading back to the table.

I manage to finish my meal and decide I have had enough of watching Lando fanboy over Carlos and say I'm going home and I ask Carlos for my car key.

When he asks why I'm going I say I'm just tired and he asks if I want him to drop me off but I tell him it's fine and he can stay and enjoy his evening.

As I walk out to my car and press unlock I hear someone call my name and turn to see Lando running towards me.

"Is everything alright?" I ask

"Everything is fine, just do me a favour and don't make things difficult for me and Carlos," he says.

"I'm sorry what do you mean exactly"

"Well I like him and I want to get with him at some point but I know you like him too so please let him go and settle for second best"

When he says that I become enraged and say something I probably shouldn't have.

"I guess you know a lot about being second best considering Oscar is always out qualifying you and getting more points than you, McLaren must really love you to still keep extending your contract but you will never be as good as Oscar"

"Don't be bitter Y/N it's not a good look"

During the drive home I am fueled by anger and I have gone over the speed limit a few times but at this point I don't really care, I have never been so annoyed by a single person.

I spent a year with Nikita and Dimitry Mazepin. I thought I had the patience of a Saint to deal with them, yet some McLaren driver comes along, makes a few comments and I see red.

I fumble around with my house keys before eventually finding the right one and open the door. The entire apartment is dead silent apart from the faint ticking of the clock. I throw my keys onto the small table by the front door and sit on the chair by the kitchen Island sipping on a glass of water when my phone pings and it's a message from Carlos.

'Hey Y/N me and Lando are going to a karting track tomorrow for a quadrant video. Would you like to come?"

I can't think of any excuse to get out of it so I text back "sure" despite the fact I'm completely unsure and a day with Lando and Carlos will really test my patience.

[tamagosandesu]

Title: Meet Cute Author's Notes: So, I was grocery shopping with my mom and realized that fridges was technically storage freezers on the inside. I suddenly thought that wouldn't it be fun if somebody had a meet-cute at the moment? Then I thought, why not sasusaku?

The last part wasn't really planned, I just randomly thought about it and decided to add it. It's up to you to imagine what happened at the dinner ;)

Enjoy! .

.

. Sasuke yawns as he feels the prick of tears welling in the corners of his eyes. His eyebrows furrow as the sun suddenly shines too brightly on his face, heat and light passing through the windshield of his car.

It was too early. Being a university student, Sasuke did not have much time in his hands, and between wanting to graduate and being well rested, Sasuke chose to invest in the long-term effects that studying has to bring rather than laying in bed and slacking off.

He thinks it's normal for many college students to have the same situation; all nighters over sleep, requirements over nap. Taking up Political Science wasn't really much of an exaggerated struggle, but being the high-achiever that he is, Sasuke thinks he can't risk any moment to fail.

Although, between weeks of practically facing university without an ounce of sleep, there are still days that Sasuke is given a reprieve of hunching over his laptop or finishing reports after reports. Every Saturday, he gets half the day free and the whole Sunday to himself. Mondays to Fridays are jam-packed, either with being a student or through juggling his commitments to his part-time job.

Usually, he just spends his weekend free times inside his dorm room near the university; Konoha State University is one of the best schools he could ever get into and is infamously known to produce achievers after achievers that top exams and creates a name for themselves. People whom Sasuke admires are mostly alumni of KSU, so it's only right that he also enters the college.

The only problem with it was that it was a good 2 hours away from their home, an hour and a half if there weren't as many commuters. Sasuke, at first, challenged his chances and tried to face the tribulation of commuting from their house to KSC for his first semester. He had to wake up in the dead of early morning where the sun is nowhere to be seen and the moon is still high up. Sasuke likes a good challenge, and so went his college life.

To say that it was tiring was an understatement. The first week was okay—adrenaline was still powering his body and the fact that he was in KSU oh my god was motivation enough to keep him sane through barely 4 hours of sleep. However, when his family saw his state of practically being a zombie, and he saw his mom shake his head with a pointing look similar to a mother hen to her chicks, he knew he had to move out and find a place near the university.

It was short-lived. However, since Sasuke is able to constantly get 5 hours of sleep, or 6 if he's extremely lucky, he thinks it's quite alright.

Sasuke yawns once again at the thought.

"Stop yawning."

Sasuke Uchiha scowls at his Mother who looks like a trophy-housewife and an elegant mother in the passenger seat, wearing an equally annoyed scowl on her pretty face.

Mikoto Uchiha was the image of elegance—long, ebony hair, styled and fixed neatly that it flows down carefully, her blouse pearly white and neatly pressed without any wrinkles whatsoever, her shoes the latest fashion from her favorite luxury shoe brand, and her face devoid and any imperfections. All this just for merely getting groceries.

Meanwhile, Sasuke looks casual—not too casual, but perfectly casual that still looked presentable. He thinks he looks fine, fine enough for the occasion of becoming Mikoto Uchiha's assistant in her grocery shopping. It wasn't bad, but when you put Sasuke beside his mom, there's no doubt that he would look like he'd come out straight out of bed.

"It's not my fault you woke me up so early," Sasuke retorts, earning a glare from his mom.

"Is that how you speak to your mother, Sasuke Uchiha?"

Sasuke shivers. It's the full name.

Sasuke feels like a little kid again, getting scolded by his mom as if he sped up with his bike way too fast and accidentally tumbled and scraped his knee.

The reverie is gone in an instant, however, when Mikoto suddenly smiles, as if reminiscing.

"Besides, it's not everyday that you get to spend time with the family all together again."

Sasuke sighs and smartly keeps his mouth shut. Anything further and Mikoto goes all sentimental again until Sasuke has to practically tear his ear off to hear none of it.

It was those rare weekends that everyone in the family was free. Well technically, forced to be free. Sasuke decided it was time to come back home after he's had enough of his mother nagging him and painfully reminding him how he and his brother has left her all alone, then proceeding to silently imply as if they don't love her anymore.

Sasuke was mama's boy through and through. So even if he has a mountain of tasks to accomplish and deadlines to reach, he packs his bags for a weekend stay and comes home to his family. Even if Mikoto Uchiha wakes him up early in the morning just to drive her to the grocery store and eventually carry bags of groceries, Sasuke still complies albeit grumbling.

Sasuke yawns once again.

Mikoto tsks and scolds him again. "Stop yawning."

Sasuke only rolls his eyes as he roams the parking lot to find a spot. .

.

. Sasuke rocks the cart back and forth, bored out of his mind as he waits for his mother to finish her chattering with her high school friends that they coincidentally bumped into. Sasuke was an introvert, like an introverted introvert. Not an extroverted introvert, or an at-least-i-can-socialize introvert, but a please-leave-me-alone-i-beg-of-you introvert.

He's suddenly lost half of his almost non-existent social battery when Mikoto dragged him to meet one of her friends and fussed over how her little boy was all grown-up. If Sasuke's uncomfort wasn't obvious enough, judging by his smile that almost looks constipated, Mikoto further forced him to talk and socialize with people he has no idea who are, much to his chagrin.

After Mikoto lost even an ounce of attention on him, he made sure to go as far away from her as possible.

So now, he absentmindedly stares at the variety of chips in front of him while still looking out for his mom if she finally decided to bid farewell to her friends.

"Sasuke?"

Said man tenses as his blood runs cold at the voice. It can't be…

Slowly, he turns his head to confirm.

"Sasuke!" Suddenly, he found himself in a tight hug by none other than his self-proclaimed best friend, Naruto Uzumaki.

Damn.

Sasuke curses under his breath when Naruto finally releases him, smiling ear-to-ear, barely aware of the dark aura and menacing glare that Sasuke is sending his way.

If his social battery was at least still half earlier, Sasuke was sure he lost a quarter more just by being engulfed by the blonde's hug. Naruto is a loudmouth—so loud that it's deafening and extremely vexatious to Sasuke. They were buddies ever since high-school. Well, maybe not-really-buddies since Naruto just rubbed him the wrong way which ended up in a brawl and a notice from the principal, a suspension, a black-eye for Naruto and a broken nose for Sasuke.

After that, Naruto went ahead and apologized which Sasuke did not accept which led to more taunting and shouting before Naruto said he'll just treat him to a bowl of ramen at the very least if Sasuke did not want an apology. One grumble of the raven's stomach and a grin from the blonde was all it took before they suddenly became friends.

At those moments, Sasuke suddenly thought that perhaps, one of the very few foundations of friendships starts at exchanging fists and sustaining damage.

"What are you doing here?" Naruto happily asks the grumpy Sasuke.

"Nothing," Sasuke answers, stealing a glance at his mom who still has yet to finish their conversation.

"Who are you looking at?" Naruto follows his line of sight and spots Mikoto. Face lightening up, Naruto abruptly drags Sasuke out back to his mother with him almost stumbling and leaving the cart in surprise.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sasuke hissed. He was sure he knew what the blonde was doing, but still he asked.

"I'm gonna say hi to Aunt Mikoto!" grinning like a child, Naruto arrives in front of a surprised Mikoto before saying hi in a voice so loud that onlookers started to watch.

"Naruto! How nice to see you!" Mikoto exclaims after recovering from her earlier surprise.

"You too, aunt Mikoto!" The blonde replies all too enthusiastically.

Like a domino, it seems as if Mikoto and her friend's conversation started all over again as she introduces Naruto and chatters away. Only this time around, compared to Sasuke who looked like he was constipated and ended the conversation as fast as possible, Naruto appears to be enjoying the talk and replies happily, asking questions after questions.

Sasuke sighs.

This is gonna be long. .

.

. Finally, after almost an eternity, Mikoto finally bid goodbye to her friend and continued with their initial shopping, only this time there was Naruto to tag along.

Sasuke thinks he might've gone deaf from all the blonde's talking. Can't he speak quietly? Why must he always shout?

When they arrive at the counter to finally line up, Sasuke feels like he's already had a long day. And it was only just morning.

"What are you up to today Naruto?" Mikoto sweetly inquires.

"Nothing much auntie, probably just sleeping at home," the blonde casually replies.

Sasuke feels like he has a good hunch about where the conversation is going.

Please don't invite Naruto to lunch and dinner.

"Do you want to spend the day with us? Sasuke's all alone since his dad is still at work and Itachi and his wife's not gonna be home until dinner. Wouldn't it be fun if he had company?" Mikoto asks.

"I'll be fine mom," Sasuke said, hissed, probably putting too much emphasis on 'fine'.

"Nonsense," Mikoto waves his son off. "The more the merrier, right?"

Naruto nodded enthusiastically like a dog to his owner, while Sasuke profusely scowled.

"I'd be delighted, auntie!"

There goes my peaceful weekend. .

.

. "Shoot."

Sasuke hears his mom mutter under her breath while the cashier nears scanning the end of the goods they've bought. He's suddenly alert, spine straight and eyes to his mom since it's wasn't common to hear Mikoto Uchiha swear.

"Sasuke dear, can you please get some alcohol?" Mikoto looks at his son with pleading eyes.

Sasuke, without missing a beat, nods and walks away, He briskly strides towards the wine section and swiftly grabs three different bottles. Champagne, red wine, and whiskey. He'e sure Mikoto will reprimand him for the whiskey, but still he takes one just for him and his brother to drink in the night after their dinner.

Sasuke had half a mind to buy a can of his favorite drink when he spied the refrigerator section, almost about to ignore it altogether, until he saw that they had a new flavor. Quickly, he decides in a split second and walks from the wine aisle, passing by the frozen foods' fridge to the drinks that were at the very end.

In his peripheral, he notices someone inside the fridge walking. Probably a staff. When he finally stops to open the fridge and take a drink, he sees a mop of pink and a lithe frame checking the boxes behind the shelves of the fridge. Curiously, he watches her back until she slowly turns to give her his profile.

A cute nose, long lashes, and pursed lips were what he saw as she tapped the pen in her lips and looked in wonder. As if sensing his staring, she side-eyes Sasuke before finally facing him and catching his gaze.

He felt like his breath was taken away.

A beautiful woman looked straight at him, wearing a cap and a uniform while she held onto a clipboard. Definitely a staff. Sasuke studies her pink hair, cut short into a bob that framed her pretty round face. Up front, her lips looked plump and pink, dusted with a light red lipstick. When he looked up and saw her eyes, Sasuke saw the prettiest shade of viridian, staring wide at him and sparkling as if she saw something fascinating. Her lashes and eyebrows were light, and for a moment all Sasuke could do was stare like a dumb kid.

He's probably not painting a pretty picture in front of this gorgeous woman, but still Sasuke looks as if it was the first time he's seen a girl ever in his life.

He tries to say something—she probably thinks he's weird for staring at her for so long—but all he could do was open his mouth and close it, hesitating and most likely looking like a fish.

"Sasuke!" he hears somewhere. Turning his head, he sees Naruto with a frown, urging him to hurry up.

He takes a look back at the fridge and sees the woman still there. She smiles sweetly and says hello before Sasuke snaps out and blushes, nodding his head in acknowledgement and sneaking a glance at her name tag.

Sakura Haruno.

How cliche, he thinks as he walks off and turns his lips in the slightest, the closest he can give to a smile. Pink hair and green eyes—colors he usually thought were loud and obnoxious, and definitely not his type, felt right with her.

With Sakura, he felt like he's never seen anything more beautiful and appealing than a mixture of pink and green.

When he returns back to the counter, he sees his mom glaring at him, probably for taking too long, and Naruto conversing with the cashier, probably to buy them time. He also notices the queue that he's most likely produced, all looking annoyed and impatient.

Usually, he would've felt chagrined at his fault, but after remembering the cause of it, he can't find it in himself to care.

In his mind, on that day, Sasuke feels like he's experienced one of the most unexpected things he would have felt. With all the sudden awareness and sensibility that he possessed in that moment about his feelings, Sasuke Uchiha therefore concluded:

I think I'm in love. .

.

. Itachi Uchiha is a busy man.

Being the CEO of their family company, Itachi barely has time to spare to attend trivial things, like dinners, for example, unless it's part of business.

Or, unless it was arranged by their dear, overbearing mother.

So, Itachi rushes to fix his things and hurries to pick up his wife from her work.

When he gets out of the car and meets Izumi, he sees a certain someone come out.

"Sakura," Itachi greets with a soft smile after kissing his wife on the cheek.

"Itachi-san," Sakura nods and returns his smile.

Izumi Uchiha was the daughter of the owner of the biggest mall-chain in Konoha, and Sakura Haruno was a 4th year university student that works part-time in one of the branches. The pink-haired girl was a sweet little thing that was able to befriend Izumi through a few exchanges of words. Izumi was also sweet, and liked especially sweet things and people. Sakura and Izumi getting along was almost inevitable, if Itachi says so himself. Put two girls together with things in common and you get a pair of bestfriends.

Although Sakura still maintains professionalism knowing that Izumi is practically the daughter of her boss's boss's boss, which Itachi respects. She was a clever girl from Konoha State University studying medicine, but still excels in many fields.

It was a waste to not know her as well.

"Dear, Sakura here was just telling me how she had a 'meet-cute' moment with someone," Izumi tells her husband as she wiggles her eyebrows at Sakura, who profusely blushed.

"Izumi-san!" Sakura tries to chastise.

Itachi, feeling as devilish as his wife, also decides to tease. "And what did he look like?"

Sakura, if possible, darkened further to a shade of red. Being the diligent girl that she is, she still answers the question.

"He was handsome," she admits in a shy voice. And then, in typical Sakura fashion, she proceeds to ramble. "He oddly looked like you, Itachi-san, same eyes and your face structure, but his hair was like all over the place,"

Now that piqued Itachi's interest.

"Did you know his name?" Itachi asked.

"It was…" Sakura trailed off to think. "Sasuke, I think."

Itachi and Izumi both shared a look. Surely, there wouldn't be anyone who looked like him and was named Sasuke right?

Itachi suddenly had an idea.

"Sakura, would you like to have dinner with our family?"

Sakura was confused, with their family? Isn't that supposed to be just intimately between them?

She became even more confused when she noticed both Izumi and Itachi grinning as they awaited her answer, faces as encouraging as ever.

I have a bad feeling about this…

"Sure...I guess...?"

[lovinglapislazuli]

I can't wait to see Nozomi have the ultimate teacher struggle: working with the projector

Image Decription: A digital drawing featuring an adult Nozomi Yumehara from Yes Precure 5. She's sitting at a teacher desk, looking at her light pink laptop (branded Yotsuba) with a mouse of the same color with yellow accents. She's wearing her hair down except for two sections tied in small hairbuns on top of her head, and she's wearing a warm beige blazer with a butterfly shaped necklace tie. As she's trying to work with the projector, a blue light is partially covering her head, with the word "Help." sitting right on her forehead. Below the drawing, the original meme picture used as reference side to side with the finished piece.

[digitaldetoxworld]

Top 5 Bluetooth Wireless Speakers for Every Budget

 Wireless Speakers And Bluetooth have revolutionized the way we listen to songs and other audio content. These portable and convenient devices provide a great audio experience without the hassle of tangled wires. In this text, we will explore the unique styles of Wi-Fi speakers, their key functions, and elements to remember when deciding on the proper one for your needs.

Types of Wireless Speakers

Bluetooth Speakers

These are the most common type of Wi-Fi speaker, and they connect to devices through Bluetooth technology. They offer a huge range of features, along with portability, battery-powered operation, and compatibility with diverse devices like smartphones, capsules, and laptops.

Wi-Fi Speakers

These audio systems hook up with your house Wi-Fi network, taking into consideration higher-fine audio streaming and integration with smart domestic systems. They often aid multi-room audio setups, in which you can play the same music in your house.

Sonos Speakers: 

Sonos is a famous logo focusing on wi-fi and multi-room audio systems. Their speakers offer sound excellent, easy setup, and seamless integration with different Sonos devices.

Portable Bluetooth Speakers

 These are small and lightweight audio systems designed for on-the-go use. They regularly have built-in batteries and rugged production, making them perfect for outside activities, tenting, or seaside trips.

Soundbars

Soundbars are designed to enhance the audio of your TV. They normally have a slender profile and can be located below your TV. Some soundbars also guide wireless connectivity, allowing you to move tune from your phone or pill.

Key Features of Wireless Speakers

Sound Quality

 The maximum essential aspect to not forget when deciding on a wi-fi speaker is the sound first-class. Look for an audio system with wealthy bass, clear mid-tones, and crisp highs.

Portability

If you propose to use your speaker on the go, portability is important. Consider factors like size, weight, and battery lifestyles.

Battery Life

The battery life of a wi-fi speaker determines how long you can use it without recharging. Look for speakers with long battery lifestyles, especially in case you plan to apply them for extended periods.

Connectivity

Consider the types of connectivity alternatives available, such as Bluetooth, Wi-Fi, or NFC (Near-Field Communication).

Water and Dust Resistance

If you intend to use your speaker outdoors or in moist environments, search for models with water and dirt resistance ratings.

Voice Assistant Integration

Some wireless speakers are compatible with voice assistants like Alexa or Google Assistant, permitting you to control them together with your voice.

Multi-Room Audio

If you want to create a multi-room audio system, look for speakers that aid this option.

Factors to Consider When Choosing a Wireless Speaker

Budget

Wireless audio systems are available for an extensive range of costs. Determine your price range and select a speaker that suits your rate range.

Intended Use

 Consider how you propose to apply your speaker. If you want a transportable speaker for outdoor activities, look for a rugged and water-resistant version. If you want to improve the audio quality of your TV, a soundbar might be a better preference.

Sound Preferences: Everyone has distinct preferences for sound. Consider your personal possibilities and listen to an exceptional audio system earlier than you make a decision.

Brand Reputation

 Bluetooth Speakers is chosen as an emblem with terrific recognition for excellent customer service.

Wireless audio systems have come a long way in recent years, supplying wonderful sound, convenience, and portability. By knowing the different kinds of wi-fi speakers, their key functions, and factors to keep in mind whilst deciding on one, you can discover the best speaker to beautify your listening revel.