#ahh and i have a silly little theory that i would love to share but it just feels stupid and outdated now

[summerfullofsnow]

.

[jamaiskookie]

i would like more soundcloud rapper yoongi x idol y/n please it’s so cute

v-live alert! -myg

pairing: idol! y/n x soundcloud rapper! yoongi

wc; 2.9k

a/n: lots of you asked, and so you shall receive. ps, i wrote this really rushed but i kinda love it. lmk what you think, love you guys <3

[V LIVE] Surprise LIVE! 

the v-live notification. or, more accurately, the sound of war. alternatively, you dance around your studio on a livestream and yoongi has a mental breakdown. 

masterlist  PREV

“i miss you too!“ you say, replying to one of the first comments that pop up on the live.

you probably should’ve showered before going live... and you probably should’ve changed out of sweats. 

whatever.

it’s not like your fans haven’t seen this before.

half of your pre-debut pictures are just downright disgusting. 

the number of viewers on the top of your phone begins to climb up to the thousands, increasing every half a second. 

it always amazes you how many people show up to your lives. sometimes you wonder if your fans genuinely have nothing better to do. how do they always show up so fast?

the comments begin to flood with greetings and exclamations of ‘oh my god i’m so early!11!1’ and the multicoloured heart pop up on your screen, building up an impressive stream of likes. 

“where am i?“ you read through the comments and look around, as if you forgot where you were. “in the studio.“ you grin when the comments flood with questions asking if dreamcloud is getting new music.

you can’t answer, of course, but it’s fun to see. you squint at your phone, which is propped on an elaborate setup that you spent the past twenty minutes preparing. 

(three books on one eyeshadow palette and a selfie stick gingerly placed on a small stool)

((you pray to every deity out there that it won’t fall))

“i was just bored,“ you shrug, speaking to the screen. “so i decided to come on here and talk to you guys. how have you been?“ you ask. 

hundreds of comments answer. 

“i’m alright“

“i’m good!“

most of them contain some form of sappy declaration like ‘my day is much better now that you’re here!’ it makes you smile. how cute. 

the v-live notification. 

or, more accurately, the sound of war. 

that cursed, terrible ding! haunts yoongi’s darkest and most terrifying nightmares. the sheer amount of panic that rushes through his veins when he hears that godforsaken noise, god. 

the number of lives he’s missed- yoongi can’t even bear to think about it. 

so maybe it was a blessing in disguise that yoongi put his phone on do not disturb so he didn’t have to hear that disgusting sound. instead, he found out the news via a gorilla’s screech.

“Y/N’S LIVE RIGHT NOW STARTED FOURTY SECONDS AGO HURRY UP YOONGI GET YOUR ASS UP AND STOP STUDYI-“ jimin yells from his room down the hall. 

yoongi almost falls out of his chair scrambling to get to his phone. it’s not like he was really studying anyways- more like using his pencils to tap out a cool-sounding beat on his desk out of boredom. 

watching your live > passing his music theory class.

priorities. 

with shaky hands, he grabs at his phone, slumping onto the floor and he sees the familiar blue icon with the notification popped up on the screen. 

[V LIVE] Surprise LIVE! Y/N: let’s chat <3

an unnatural squeak that slightly resembles the sound a mouse slips out of yoongi’s mouth.

even when he was a baby starrie and was glued to his phone at all times, he’s never been this early to a live. he unlocks his phone, cursing his momentary clumsiness. he clicks into the live, smiling when your beaming face blasts up on his screen. 

you haven’t gone live in so long- it’s nice to see your face again. 

“- how have you been?“ 

“good.“ yoongi types out in the comment box, mumbling the words as he’s typing. “way better now that you’re live.“ sometimes yoongi cringes at himself when he types these things. i mean, who could possibly guess that min yoongi, resident scary-emo-couldslapyouintheface bad boy socially un-responsible simped over a k-pop idol?

he can already see his reputation go down the drain. 

he also wonders what it says about himself that he’s a 20-something college student who’s life practically revolves around you, an idol who’s just about a year younger than him.

but dreamcloud is a part of his identity now. he identifies as a starrie no matter what. you know how the old saying goes-

once you stan, you can’t unstan. or something like that, he’s honestly not sure. 

you tuck your head onto your hand, diligently trying to keep up with all the comment. with a gasp, you nod at something. “oh, you’re right, user yoonalova98!” - that’s another thing special about you. whenever you read out comments, you also read out the username of whoever wrote it. 

you explained in one interview- that it’s cooler to give credit and talk to your fans as if you’re just chatting as friend. saying the username feels like you’re saying their names. 

what kind of lucky fan would get their comment read aloud by Y/N?

ugh. 

yoongi blinks when he remembers that technically, he’s sort of part of this group of elite, recognised fans. 

his twitter stan account got almost five thousand more followers after Y/N replied to his selca. the post itself has tons and tons of likes and retweets. 

insane, that Y/N- Y/N herself- knows of his existence. Y/N- the love of his life, has seen his FACE. she commented three HEART emojis below a selfie that he took. 

if he thinks about it too much, he’ll start feeling faint again.  

“our anniversary is coming up soon! i can’t believe it’s been three years already. time does pass by when you’re having fun.“ you say. yoongi thinks that it’s rather ironic that you would forget your anniversary, when yoongi’s had a calendar countdown to January 14th since the beginning of september. 

“ahh,“ you say, leaning in closer to the screen. “from user lialiarach, ‘did you watch jisoo unnie’s acting debut’ - i did! we all watched it and cheered her on during the premiere!“ 

jisoo’s new drama is good. it’s a fantasy-horror blend, and he, jimin, namjoon and jin finished all 16 episodes in two days when streaming hit Netflix. 

your head tilts and you smile. “song recommendations?” you wonder aloud, and yoongi scrambles to get a pen and notepad out. you don’t do ‘y/n’s listening parties’ as much anymore, but your taste in music is impeccable and he collects all the songs in a playlist. 

it’s called ‘wedding tunes’ (jimin named it, not him, yoongi swears) 

everytime he tries to change it back, it somehow switches back to wedding tunes the next day. 

it’s disturbing how good jimin is at this kind of stuff. hopefully yoongi won’t have to bail him out of jail one day. 

“okay!“ you say, pulling your laptop open. you hum as you scroll through some page that yoongi can’t see- and he anxiously waits for the first song to be played with twitchy hands and a strong grip on his pen. 

the first bar plays out and yoongi’s already in love.

“this is,“ you say over the music, double checking just to make sure. “don’t need your love by NCT...“ you squint. god knows there are too many NCT members. “dream! NCT dream featuring HRVY.“ 

“NCT dream...“ yoongi mumbles to himself, writing the song down on the notepad. 

“you know,“ you say over the music, spinning in your chair and nodding to the beat. “i’ve only met the NCT guys a couple times at music shows and such but they’re all so nice. i can’t remember all their names, but i’m decently familiar with their faces. how do they even have 23 members? how does it all work??“ 

you dance around the studio, singing along nonsensical lyrics that don’t make sense but sort of fit the rhythm of the song (??) 

“don’t need your loo-ooove-!!! dum dum duhhhh duhros noya!!!” yoongi stifles a laugh. there’s a reason why you constantly forget lyrics on stage. 

which is quite ironic, actually, because half the time you’re forgetting the lyrics to a song you wrote yourself. 

afterwards, you play all the hidden gems- and yoongi’s proud to say he’s familiar with quite a few of them. 

airplane by j-hope (a youtube star turned successful rapper-vocalist-dancer)

sweet night by v (the internet’s resident eye-candy)

and then you continue to scroll through your laptop, biting your lip and murmuring quietly to yourself. you glance once back at your phone screen. 

okay, listen.

yoongi knows that he’s delusional, okay?

but everytime you look straight in the screen it’s almost like you’re looking directly at the camera it’s almost like you’re staring into his soul. which makes zero sense, but it still makes his heart skip a beat.

let him dream, please

“what am i scrolling through?“ you say, reciting a question from the chat. “soundcloud, user chachachae.“ 

soundcloud? 

oh.

that’s pretty cool.

he didn’t know you had a soundcloud account!

you usually post all your covers and random shorts to instagram or another one of your personal blogs. 

for a moment, yoongi indulges himself by wondering if you’d ever listened to his music. his soundcloud account is linked in his twitter bio, after all... 

but he shakes those thoughts away as fast as they came. he doesn’t need to entertain himself with such silly thoughts. 

“ooh, this one’s good!“ you say, clicking onto something. 

still with you by JAYKAY (pffftt haihdkahjd) starts playing and you lean back, humming along. yoongi knows this one too!! now he’s 3 for 3!! he and you do share a similar taste in music, so maybe it does make sense. 

even though you’re actually main vocalist and lead dancer, you do listen to a lot of rap music. but the music you make is nothing like the old school hip hop tracks that yoongi is partial to. 

the music you make- how can he explain it? 

sweet like honey with a little bit of tang. 

like barbecue honey!!!!

ok that was a bad analogy. 

all of his favourite dreamcloud tracks are written by you- cloud nine, up in the sky, are u still here, quicksand- the list goes on and on and on. 

it’s like listening to your voice solves anything he goes against. bad day? dreamcloud. something to celebrate? blast your debut song. in need of a party song? easy fix. he gets aux cord rights? (granted, this doesn’t happen very often, since seokjin insists that his music taste is superior to his friends.) but anyways, y/n can fix it. 

listening to your voice feels comforting. it invokes something in him that he honestly cannot explain with words. you’re his inspiration. not just in music- but in life. he admires how you’re able to smile through anything, how you take responsibility for your own actions. 

he admires your kind heart, which offers generosity and forgiveness to even the most underserving people. 

he admires your passion, for music, for your members, for the smallest things. he admires how you’ll love everyone and anyone. 

even though he’s never really met you, he feels like he knows you. he wishes he could, anyways. he wants to thank the person who’s gotten him through such bad days. 

yoongi curses himself again for being so delusional. 

he keeps telling himself that he can’t get so attached. then he’ll end up like one of those creepy fans who are convinced their idols actually like them. 

blech.

“okay, next song!“ you exclaim cheerfully. “i really like this one, guys. he’s this soundcloud star. he makes really cool music.“ yoongi readies his pen. if this person really is a soundcloud star, then there’s a high chance yoongi knows of him. a smaller chance that he actually knows the guy personally; either online or from real life. 

you press the space bar almost obnoxiously, like you’re about to reveal something grand. you look into the camera, and you lock eyes with yoongi- through that cursed, horrible screen. 

the first note plays and yoongi thinks that it sounds... oddly familiar, actually. for a moment, he sighs in disappointment. this one doesn’t sound as great as the previous few songs. almost like it’s incomplete, imperfect. something about it bugs him at the very bottom of his gut. 

jimin figures it out before he does. 

“AHHHHHHHHH YOONGI!!! OH MY GOD-!!!! YOONGI ARE YOU SEEING THIS? YOONGI!! HYUNG!“ yoongi grumbles, wondering what the hell jimin is screeching about now. 

“oh, for fuck’s sake,“ he mumbles. the difference between him and jimin is the way they express their emotions. while yoongi bottles it all up, choosing to deal with things alone and slump around, jimin has no other choice but to scream things out. it’s a wonder they’re such good friends, really. “what is it now?“ yoongi mutters to himself. 

“yeah yeah, a gentle breeze- “ and then it hits him. all at once. 

“holy fucking shit.“ he whispers to himself, slumping down on the floor. he can barely hear what you say next.

“this song is called people by agust d. he goes by the name suga on social media-!“ yoongi falls down, gasping for air. “i’m a fan,“ you remark casually. “mr. suga producer-nim!! i’m your fan! please continue to make good music!“ you chuckle. “what am i doing right now? he probably isn’t even watching.“ you stare innocently at the phone camera, as if you don’t even know that you’re changing someone’s life right now. 

out of his peripheral vision, he can see jimin rushing into the room, crouching next to him and placing a hand on his back, murmuring something yoongi can’t hear through the sound of his sobs. 

huh. when did he even start crying?

“he makes rap and really cool hip hop music. you guys should give him a listen. his lyrics are really meaningful, too.“ you nod along, reciting the lyrics word for word- even though you really can’t rap. 

“what kind of person am I? am I a good person? or a bad person? many of ways to judge just a person. everyone will live on, everyone will love, everyone will fade away“ you headbang along to the beat. 

yoongi slides down the wall inch by inch. he wonders if he’ll faint or vomit first.

other people seem to make fun of people like him- people who find solace in idols, in music. that’s partially why he doesn’t like disclosing the fact that he’s a diehard fan of an idol girl group. 

but in hindsight, that’s so stupid. who gives two fucks about his interests? hell, yoongi’s been depressed half his life. and if a group of girls who sing songs and perform make him feel better, what’s so wrong with that?

 jimin’s voice is a little clearer now, and so is yours. you’re singing along to the lyrics- the lyrics that he wrote. the lyrics that he spent hours agonising over, wondering whether his shortcomings and anxiety in his life were worth posting on the internet for his measly following to see. 

wondering if the music he made had any impact at all, if one day he might see his dream come true, to see his music being played in public. wondering if anyone might hear his songs and think that it helped them get over a bad day. just like you have for him. 

yoongi’s sobs wrack through his body, tears flowing freely on his face. he’s crying hard. ugly crying, like a baby throwing a temper tantrum. his cries echo through the room. if he could see himself right now...

well, he doesn’t want to think about it. he’s sure it’s not a pretty view. 

jimin looks over him, smiling proudly. his eyes are glassy, and he tucks yoongi’s head in his chest, putting his arms around him and embracing him. 

yoongi’s shoulders shake. if it was any other day, he would usher jimin out the room. he hates it when people see him being vulnerable. even his own family hasn’t seen him cry that much. 

but right now, he can’t bring himself to do anything but cry. other people may ask why this is such a big deal, why someone emotionally constipated like min yoongi would cry like this for such a small matter. 

this, he doesn’t know how to explain either. 

all he can think about is how much it means to him. that someone he admires so much is now, in turn, saying his music- no, his life- is good. nothing much else. but just knowing that you’ve listened to his work, that you know of his alter ego’s name...

his crying sounds grow larger. 

jimin pets at his hair. “shh,” he murmurs. “it’s okay.” jimin’s voice also grows a little shaky. he tears up, but continues to comfort the crying boy in his arms. “you did it, hyung. it’s okay. you made it. you did it. why are you crying? this is good news! this is so great! i’m proud of you, we’re all so proud of you.” 

yoongi tries to speak; it doesn’t go very well. but when he tries again, he manages to choke something out. 

“i did it.“ he says, before burying his face back into jimin’s hug. the two boys sit on the ground, crying together. an hour passes, then two. 

slowly, yoongi drifts off to bed on the ground, the melody of his own song blended with sound of your voice echoing in his head. 

my ordinary became your special, my special became your ordinary. so what? what if you just brush by? what if you get hurt? sometimes you might get hurt again, sometimes you might shed tears. so what? so what if you live like that? 

~ people by agust d

tags; @jksbbyfacebunny @extremeobsessions101​​ @dwcljh​ @stonyiscanon​ @bishuthot​ @s0seo​ @cecedrake2217​ 

[makeusfreefromthisfandom]

Anon asked: Heyyy! Can we have some HC on style 5 as fathers? Thank you

Yes! The boys as fathers have me so soft 🥺

Father Headcanons (Style 5)

I got carried away with these hcs... might have to make a separate post for each later on 😅 long post ahead!

Haru

Personally I imagine Haru with a daughter first

Like can you imagine how cute that would be? 🥺🥺the whole like father like daughter 🥺🥺

Haru doesn’t get this whole babies thing, in fact he’s panicking on the inside, but the moment he holds his child in his arms, it’s like every thought every worry has now become irrelevant

The only thing that matters is the child in his arms❤️

Smiles a lot more now because he is genuinely happy.

Even lets his laughs be heard more often just for his kid lol

When his child grows up a bit more, he definitely wants to teach them how to swim and how to ahem ~be one with the water~

He’s not a pushy father at all tho he won’t ever force his child to go down the swimming path and would rather have them get into something they are passionate about

Nevertheless, he still would like them to know how to swim atleast, it’s not a bad thing to learn

But um...he’s not the best of teachers...

Uncle Makoto here to save the day!

That being said, Haru always wants to be there for his child, be able to go to as much of their competitions/meets/games/etc. as he can even though he’s so busy with his own training schedules

He just wants to be there for them and he wants them to know that too<3

Oh um also...he’s bad at scolding...he’ll try to “scold” his little kid for doing something wrong like picking things off the ground and putting it in their mouth but his child just looks up at him like 😯

Also Haru changing diapers? Haha... “ahh (y/n)! How do I do this?”

He gets better at this tho over time :)

Watch his child not like Mackerel

He’s still confused over this whole father thing, but he knows that he really does want to love and be there for his child<3

Btw how cool would it be to have a dad being a world renowned swimmer? 😱

*haru excitingly watching as you feed your baby daughter (I see him w a daughter ok but it’s your choice) mackerel for the first time*

*baby makes a weird face and spits out mackerel*

“*Haru gasps dramatically* She doesn’t like mackerel.”

Baths with his kid. 🐬

JUST IMAGINE THAT I DONT EVEN NEED TO EXPLAIN IT

How precious 🥺

You sitting on the edge of the bathtub, silently watching Haru as he holds his baby in the bath with a small smile, eyes then slowly drifting up to lock in with yours, his smile a bit wider and everything he feels for you and his child, all shining in his eyes ❤️

There cannot be a more perfect, little, peaceful family <3

Makoto

An amazing father!

We’ve seen him with his little siblings Ren and Ran!

That doesn’t mean he won’t panick from time to time because it’s different when it’s your own child

He’s the type to do the whole baby talk and little cooes with his baby but turns bashful when he catches you quietly standing in the doorway watching 🤣

His cooking skills have improved a bit...

You already work so hard everyday for the baby and the house, he wants to lessen your burdens and give you a little break <3🥺

Family cuddles! With you and Makoto on either side and your child/children in the middle! How precious🥺

I see Makoto’s children being a lot more brave and daring than he is like watching “scary” (like Cartoon Network scary XD) movies and wanting going on adventures in places supposedly paranormal

“Dad stop being such a scaredy cat! I wanna go watch this movie already!”

“Ahh (y/n)!! Help me! 😰”

His kids are mischievous bro always do those puppy dog eyes to get him into their schemes

“AH NO (Y/N)! IT WAS THEIR IDEA I PROMISE!”

He also spoils his kids XD

Don’t think that means he doesn’t know when the boundaries are crossed and when he needs to get a bit strict

He may spoil his kids but spoiled kids are a big no no (there’s a difference)

The kids actually grow up to be sweet and respectful

Aww imagine Makoto teaching his own kids how to swim and sending them to an sc🥺

He’s just such a loving father and SO supportive!

His children love that they can come to him with any of their problems and know that he’s going to listen intently and understand, while also offering any advice he might think suitable <3

As if you alone didn’t make his heart well enough with so much love, his heart practically bursts with his children❤️

Ready to sacrifice everything he has for the happiness and well being of his family ❤️

Nagisa

Excitement is an UNDERSTATEMENT

As if this baby himself wasn’t cute enough, just IMAGINE HIS CHILDREN

omg omg omg cuteness overload

He’s jumping up and down when his baby is about to come, however he calms down when he actually gets a chance to hold them and he’s just in a soft, serene state, looking on at his little one with a small smile~

All his little toddler has to do is slightly tug on his shirt, and Nagisa is in a full gushing frenzy

He cries over how adorable they are

Nagisa baby YOU are adorable

He’s such a funny dad always makes his kids laugh!

Like when his child is a baby, he would come over making silly faces that half of the time either made baby laugh or baby cry 😣

Tickle Monster 😏

Finger puppets! I totally see him doing this as a father!

Nagisa won’t tease his kids a whole lot tho, knowing how frustrating it can get having experienced for a good amount of his life by his older sisters

He wants his kids to have fun ALL the time just like him 😁

He shows them his secret sweet stash when he believes it is time

So you’re going to have to be the one implementing the rules and regulations

“Come on, it’s time for bed let’s go, it’s past 11”

“Aww come on (y/n)-chan look at how happy they are! Just give us five more minutes🥺”

The challenging part for you is that you end up having to give in a lot more because now there’s more than 1 who’ve mastered the puppy dog eyes around the house

Another supportive dad! (They all are) he wants to be there for his kids’ firsts! And for all their games and competitions etc.

This is going to be such a fun little family with LOTS of love, support, chocolate, and fun! ❤️

Rei

No theory, no book, no calculations prepared him for the moment his child was placed in his arms

He’s immediately brought to tears and whispers a small “beautiful” 🥺

The type to document EVERY moment of his child

You end up having like 10 albums and tapes of just your kid(s)

ALL of your little ones firsts have all been recorded and documented to reminisce on later in the future🥺

Always nudging you and showing you the cute little things your baby is doing off in the corner🥺

He can be strict

Unlike Nagisa, oh no he is not spoiling his kid’s diet

Their kid is eating their entire rainbow with lots of fruits and vegetables, along with the right amount of protein and milk

However there are times where he chills out and actually bakes cookies and sweets for his children 🥺

And they are *chefs kiss*

However when Uncle Nagisa comes over...those kids know what’s up 😝😋

Wants to show them the beauty of swimming, specifically the butterfly stroke

You don’t have to worry about your kids getting low grades, because Rei will personally take care of that😌

He just wants his children work hard so they can become the best at whatever they choose to do in the future <3

Haha you wanna know what I’m imagining?

Him having a daughter that is an EXACT copy of him

And it will completely leave him speechless at moments XD

“Ahem...Daddy, the way that you pitch the ball is off by approximately 15 degrees according to the direction and pressure of the wind...not beautiful” *pushes glasses up*

Rei is just like 😨😱

Anyways you can forget about having excessive burden on your shoulders from parenting because this man is going to give it his all for you and his children❤️

Rin

The second his baby was delivered, he was already a crying mess, however when they are actually placed in his arms, it’s like all the tears have suddenly stopped, and it’s just a moment for Rin.

However he starts crying again immediately after

He loves his child so much! ❤️

They are a physical embodiment of his love with you! <3

He now understands the sacrifices his own father made for the sake of his family and now Rin is willing to to the same for his own

All his tsundereish tendencies vanish and he just becomes one big softy 😤

Don’t think that means that Rin doesn’t know how to be strict tho

Oh he is a strict dad but he only does is it for his child’s own good

He will shower them in just as much affection after the scolding <3

Like even after he gets a bit harsh on his child and sees their eyes, Rin immediately stops and goes into your shared room and starts sniffling

“H-hey (y-y/n)...w-was I too harsh on them?”

Yes he’s the type of dad to get onto you for brushing your teeth

He’s also that dad helping his kids with math

He has let his emotions show a lot more now.

Like when his baby started taking his first steps...Rin cried, camera in his hand shaking

When his child picked a flower and brought it to him...shark baby cried.

Or when one of his children brought home their essay about Rin being their biggest hero...Rin cried.

A very supportive family!

With you guys going to support him swimming at the world stage, and Rin going to all his children’s events and being their #1 fan <3

I can see Rin owning a “The World’s Best Dad” or “#1 Dad” mug and proudly drinking from it XD <33

He also gets very competitive with his kids! He gets very into the sports and games he plays with them

Teaching them tricks and tips along the way

And swimming? He’s got it in the bag, your child will get the hang of it under a week.

Some days Rin likes to lie with you on the bed, wrapping an arm around you to hold you close and pressing a a soft kiss to your temple, thanking you for being the love of his life and making him the world’s happiest man alive 🥺❤️

A/n: The boys would be such good fathers!They can all have my babies I love the parenting concept! I’m probably going to make separate hcs for them in the future 🥺

[storytellingfandom]

Calculators and Key Changes 

Summary: Kazami blew into Republic City High like a hurricane. The students loved her, she changed how the arts program was run and rose it out of the ashes. She got along with most all of the staff, that is, except for one. 

Lin would give her props for saving the arts program, but that’s as far as it went. The failed opera singer was obviously looking for what she’d see as an “easy” gig to get her back in the papers and then abandon her students. And she wasn’t going to offer praise for a one trick pony. 

But when things shift, when there’s an understanding, can their students push the two titans of the school together to find their own happiness?

A/N: This is a completely self indulgent high school AU. I tried to write it in second person POV, but it didn’t flow well so it is third person with it being Lin x OC. Many props go to @kuvirasbrat for helping me get this shaped though <3 

Word count: 1976

Pulling into the school’s parking lot, the sun had just started to rise and the soft glow was caught in the windows in the early autumn light. Bright blue eyes took in the colors as she pulled into the school parking lot and settled her car into her normal parking spot near her choir room. Turning the car off, Kazumi Ikeda sat in her car for a moment and sipped her vanilla chai latte a little bit longer. 

She loved her early morning ensemble kids. The ones who were willing to get up early, go through music reading bootcamp, and audition for this class. The ones who not only enjoyed the music, but felt it through their being. 

With a sigh, she opened her car door and grabbed her bag. Setting her latte on top of the car for a second, she reached in and grabbed a second bag with her materials for her music theory and history classes later on that day. Shouldering it, she grabbed her latte again before making her way into the school. 

The start of a new year was always fun, at least it was after the first week. Waving to some of the other teachers that had sold their souls for early morning advanced groups, she slipped into her classroom and into her office. Switching the light on, she dropped her bag full of her materials on her desk and her purse into a drawer. Bringing her keys with her, she tossed them on the piano as she went over the music they’d be starting today. 

At least these copies didn’t have fucking equations hiding what key it was in. 

When Kazumi had started at Republic City High after a successful career in opera, the one person in the school that seemed to want to see her fall on her face was Lin Beifong. When she’d started, the woman made damn sure she knew what she thought of her. Barbs were sniped on both sides from that day forward. Barbs turned into more though when Lin made it almost impossible for some of her students to leave for competitions that they were needed on. 

And she wasn’t about to let that go by unnoticed. 

Finding out Lin liked to be in school just as early as she did, she kept her doors opened for practice, pressing keys harder than they needed to be so that the piano music would disturb the woman in whatever she was doing. 

Lin retaliated in stealing things she needed for her other class. The projector was never there when she needed, she never got to show movies unless it was on the older tvs. 

Kazumi didn’t take equipment, she understood what Lin’s job was and what was needed, instead she gathered the help of her students. Band kids offering their drum lines for a song that just had to have them. Sopranos doing what they did best and rang out louder than they needed to. 

The next time she’d changed her music for her students, she found her music coded in math equations which meant she had to solve them in order to figure out the key signature. Which meant going in search of a different math teacher to help her solve it properly since of course Beifong was a genius in overly complicated mathematics. 

Two years had passed and by now it was school tradition. You either sided with Beifong or Ikeda. Students offered ways for the women to get back at each other. Competitive sides fought over top marks in it. Anything from fundraisers, pep rallies, games, it all became a competition for which teacher would have the top group or would bring out the most from them. 

This year though, Kazumi found herself over the idea of this silly thing. Over the summer, she’d lost a dear friend in a terrible accident and the competition suddenly seemed so trivial. 

She doubted Lin would cooperate but maybe she could at least pull some of the stick that seemed to be shoved up the other’s arse out. 

Shaking her head, Kazumi made sure the side braid she’d fashioned that morning was still in place before going to open the door to her classroom. Smiling when she saw Asami standing outside the door, she motioned in the young woman before setting the door hold in place. 

“Good morning, Miss Sato. Did you have a good weekend?” Kazumi asked, following her back into the room. 

“Yeah, I mostly got to work with the new engineering teacher on an after school group that will start up hopefully this week.” Asami answered, setting her bag near the risers before moving to grab her music folder.

“That’s great, Asami! You’ve been working on that for about six months haven’t you?” Kazumi asked, moving to sit at the piano to plunk out a tune. 

“Yeah, I’m really hoping that others will be interested so that the school let’s it stay.” Asami answered walking over to the piano. 

“Well if I can do anything let me know.” Kazumi answered, reaching for her coffee with one hand to sip on. 

As the other kids started to file in, she greeted each one in kind. For the ones that were returning, she knew details of their lives. Their siblings, relationship with parents, their hopes and aspirations, little things as well like their favorite shows or what they were up to outside of school. 

It was why the kids always seemed to connect to her. 

“Ms. Ikeda?” One of the kids called out, pulling her out of her thoughts. 

“Huh? Oh! Sorry guys, let’s get started.” Kazumi announced starting into the familiar tunes of their warm ups. One blue eye caught the open door though and she paused. An olive branch. “Bolin, will you shut the door for me, please?”

Eyes went wide at the request but the boy stumbled over himself to pull the door closed. Poking his head out as he did so, he offered Beifong a wave before pulling the doors closed and shutting in the music. 

An eyebrow went up seeing Bolin pulling the door shut. That was new. Normally Kazumi made it a point to leave the door open. Leave it so that the voices of their shared students filled the hallways. Way too damn early if you asked her. Especially the sopranos. 

She was sure her forehead had become permanently imprinted with things such as her stapler or paper clips from the times she’d beat her head into her desk at the incessant noise. 

But now the hallways were quiet. The voices were muffled, not flowing through, leaving the halls quiet and stagnant. The rest of the student population wouldn’t be here for another hour or so yet, and now all of a sudden, Lin found herself almost missing the sound of music in the hallways. 

Not that she’d ever tell her that. 

Draping her jacket over the back of her chair, Lin shook out the silk black blouse, making sure the cuffs were setting properly on her wrists. The charcoal grey slacks coming to a tapered cuff just above her ankles to reveal the small heel she wore. Steel grey hair pulled back into a bun, and makeup light and never more than needed. 

Precise, angled, and too put together. 

Reaching her her coffee, Lin sipped it quietly. Bitter in her mouth, the dark liquid was the opposite of what the choir director drank. Black, with only minimal sugar allowed in. Maybe she’d been a little harsh on the other woman. She’d been an accomplished opera singer from what she’d heard, something happened though and now here she was teaching. It felt like the story where she’d gotten a bad review and tucked tail to run. 

Whatever the case, maybe the closed choir room door was a peace offering of some kind, and while Lin highly doubted they’d be friends, being civil did have certain appeals. 

*********

Lunch time in high school was always a fascinating set of traditions. Friend circles grew, they shrunk, they included people Kazumi would never expect. They were fascinating. However, they were only as fascinating as that when she didn’t forget her granola bar sitting on her dining room table. Like she had that morning. Her lunch wasn’t for another couple of hours. This was fine. 

Wandering between the tables, she waved at those that called out their greeting and paused when she heard others call her over for questions. 

“Hey, Ms. Ikeda?” A student called out to her. 

“Hey Ayama, what’s up?” Kazumi asked, walking over to her table. 

“You studied literature for a while, right? I’m taking Mr. Kogarashi’s history of religion class and this text is so....empty of anything that I can’t figure it out.” Ayama answered, looking up hopefully. 

“Ahh, I’ve heard rumors of his class. He does seem like one to assign those. Here, let me see the passage.” Kazumi answered and reached for the text. Tenzin really did pick the worst things for kids to read for class, no wonder the kids skipped. 

It was perched on one of the tables going over a reading section with one of their students that Lin found her. Part of her dark brown hair in a side braid leaving the rest to fall around her shoulders. Elbows resting on her knees, the sun catching her toffee colored skin and showed off the warm undertones, catching the blue of her eyes that were lost in the book. While she wore tailored jeans and the sleeveless linen blouse that was tucked under a deep red cardigan jacket. 

Wait, since when did she notice these things? 

Shaking her head, she walked over to her normal spot, listening to Kazumi point out different imagery points and where she could connect them to the historic points that Tenzin deemed more important than others. A gentle hand on the students shoulders, and she was easing herself off the table. 

Heeled boots guided Kazumi over to Lin, offering her a tentative smile as she came to stand with her. “Lin.” 

“Kazumi.” 

“You hear about the updates for the library?” 

“Yeah, they have a new section for practical mathematics. Maybe the kids will see it’s used everyday.” Lin shrugged, her arms folded across her chest. Looking over, she noticed that the other woman didn’t have the normal granola bar that she’d eat during this time. “Don’t you usually have a bar or something?”

“Huh? Oh. Normally yes, but it’s currently making use of itself on my dining room table.” Kazumi shrugged, eyes straying over to the normal trouble makers. “I’ll be fine though.” 

“You have the later lunch.” Lin pointed out, raising her brow. “You’ll be miserable by then.” 

“I’ll be fine. Really.” Kazumi answered, confused as to why Lin seemed to make such a big deal out of it when they were barely speaking. 

Sighing, Lin broke her granola bar in half and handed one side of it to Kazumi. “Here. I’ll never hear the end of it if I saw you before you pass out from low blood sugar.” 

Eyeing the other woman, seafoam blue eyes looked on the other for a long moment before she took it from her. “Thanks.”

*******

The moment hadn’t gone unnoticed by the students who watched with large eyes as Lin passed the choir director part of her granola bar. Nor had the fact they’d been standing and having a civil conversation for more than ten seconds. 

“Do you think…” 

“I don’t know. She never shares food like that!” 

“Are they still talking?”

“It looks like it.” 

“Did Ikeda just smile at Beifong?!” 

“She definitely did.” 

“You know what this means? 

“Beikeda finally sails?”

“Definitely. Asami, you get the coffees tomorrow?”

“On it.” 

“Gotta start small. But we can do this guys. Let’s pay them back for everything they do.”

[purkinje-effect]

The Purkinje Effect, 3

Table of Contents

Once Galen had paid Dr. Sun for the Addictol, he walked down the front steps and dropped five dollars in their cigarette machine to get a pack. Second Street. He chuckled to himself as he lit one up. They’ve embraced every bit of Bostonian culture here, down to the diamond itself. The guards wear catcher gear. The streets are named after the bases. Pff, there’s even a guy over there makin’ a living selling baseball bats. But can I blame em? Heck no. Of any building I can think of in East Mass, Fenway Park was built like a damn fortress.

He flicked his ashes and took another drag, sizing up his surroundings to get his bearings. Town square was the inner diamond, three rows of merchant stalls. A second row outside that seemed a combination of residential and merchant blocks. Besides the “swatter” dealer, gun enthusiast, and surplus stalls, he could discern they’d reclaimed pieces of an old Fallon’s building. Behind the Mega Surgery Center was the butcher’s, and Public Occurrences was behind the barber’s to the other side of what he quickly determined was Home Plate. The pink dreg let out a deep, smoky exhale. Piper. He’d been too abrasive with her. Once he’d settled business with these two doctors Sun had referred him to, he felt obliged to make it up to her somehow. Galen swallowed his filter. Before anything else, a haircut.

Normally the going price the barber charged was fifteen caps, but he accepted Galen’s thirteen provided he could bum a smoke while he worked. A fresh trim and clean hair did wonders for Galen’s comfort and confidence levels. Two weeks on the road had left him scruffier than tolerable. John added a taper-fade to the slicked-back, longish undercut Galen desired to maintain. He smiled to himself as he walked off from John, running a gloved hand over his smooth nape and down past his clean shaven jaw. A fresh coat of pomade was far preferred to whatever had been failing to keep his hair slicked in place previously. He did his best to ignore the fact John’s mother, who’d loitered in the other end of the trailer while John worked, didn’t even wait for him to get out of hearing range to start speculating as to why he was bright pink.

Subconsciously he followed the ritual of walking the bases to find his way, and he passed by both the butcher’s and the Dugout Inn before he rounded the intersection of First and Second. He tapped his foot on First Base with a lighthearted spring in his foot before wandering Second Street to locate the one door on the path not labeled as strictly residential. Then he knocked on the blue door before letting himself in.

“I still think you should reconsider,” the dark blonde woman started cheerfully from one end of the two-story room, filled with various equipment and workbenches. Both wore white lab coats.

“Excuse me?” Galen started, to announce himself since it didn’t seem his knock had been heard.

“Ah, we have a guest,” the dark-haired woman with glasses segued from her place at the microfiche. “Dr. Duff, perhaps you can help him, so I can get back to my studies.”

“Ahh, yes, hello! You must be here for our free Science! lesson. You’re a little late, since the children from the schoolhouse have already left on their biology field trip, but I’m at no inconvenience to include you as well.” She smiled enthusiastically.

“Field trip?” Galen echoed, impressed. “This city’s got a fine educational system, if it’s got a science building all to itself.”

“We have some of the best scientific equipment in the city,” Duff grinned. “I promised the mayor himself that we would share that invaluable learning resource with anyone interested in self-enrichment. And what better way to enrich oneself than through Science!, hmm!”

“I think... I like the way you think.” Galen chuckled. The spirit of the woman was catching. “A biology lesson, though? Tell me more.”

“We all talk about radiation like it’s a single thing, but it’s actually comprised of many different types of ionizing rays. X-rays, alpha rays, beta rays, gamma rays... Do you know which of them we’re most worried about? The one most associated with the big, old bombs 200 years ago?”

He choked up, a bit unnerved by casual conversation broaching the apocalypse in such a way, but managed to rack his own personal knowledge enough to form an answer.

“Gamma rays, right? I remember cause of the triangle symbol, lookin’ like a piece of the radiation symbol.”

“That’s right! You’ve got a fine mnemonic. Now, gamma rays are bad. Really bad. If your body absorbs too much of that kind of radiation, you’ll suffer from fatigue, anemia, even death. But, some life forms have been living with gamma radiation exposure for two centuries now, and they've adapted. Neat, huh?”

“Adapted? Like, evolved?” Additionally, he wondered to himself, Mutated? “This is all very fascinating.”

“Yes, exactly! That’s what Science! is all about. Nothing stays the same. Everything reacts. Science! teaches us the lessons we need to survive. Now more than ever.”

“I love science,” he nodded, adoring her bubbly attitude.

“Now how about that field trip?”

“Field... trip?”

“Time to go out and do some Science! of your own, you silly. I usually have a prize for Best Junior Scientist, and nobody’s come back yet so you’re still in the running for it, if you’re interested.”

“Well, you certainly have my attention.”

“You're going to go out and find a Bloatfly gland. You see, the oversized Bloatfly of today evolved from an earlier species of a smaller fly. Radioactive adaptation has resulted in a unique gland that enables it to balance and maintain speed despite its size.”

“Is there... any chance we’ve adapted like that?” He didn’t want to admit off the cuff that he’d been eating his fair share of Bloatfly past two weeks, especially knowing from this conversation that they had in fact been horseflies before the war. It moderately alarmed him the approximation this conversation had to his own reasons for having come.

“Oh, wouldn’t that be something! You sure seem inclined towards theoretical topics, much unlike my partner, Professor.” The emphasis on her name, directed toward her, elicited an irritated huff from Scara.

“It’s not so much that. It’s... why I came here.” Galen pushed his hood back and made a self-conscious face. “Nobody above-ground’s pink. Just me and everybody else in my vault.”

“Ah! I didn’t even notice. Hm, you don’t eat a lot of any one thing, do you?”

“We’ve been eating food paste from dispensers installed in the vault, ever since the beginning of being shut in. And we haven’t got a garden or any of that, before you ask. Dr. Sun seemed real upset by that, when I spoke to him. He’s the one who sent me here.” He dug out the sample of food paste again and offered it up. “He said you might be able to analyze this stuff, and tell me what’s in it. My people’re getting sick, and everybody’s convinced it’s the paste. But there weren’t problems stomaching it until recent years.”

Duff took it and removed the lid, frowning at the pink goo.

“Pardon the obtuse remark, but this doesn’t look like food. Are you sure what you were eating out of was a food dispenser?”

“Six valves, in the mess hall,” he nodded. “When the vault was first set up, we had a nutritionist and a doctor. They both insisted it was a vitamin-enriched gel with the full gamut of nutrients anybody could need. They passed away a long time ago, though, so nobody can talk to them directly about it. Is it not common, for a vault to be outfitted with this stuff? Sun was distraught as all get-out that we don’t farm.”

As he spoke, Duff moved to the chemistry station against the far wall, taking a portion of it with a scoopula to a clean beaker, and she did not look up from her work as she got started.

“It’s going to take some time for me to analyze this. But round back. You mentioned adapting when you brought up being pink. You think you’ve adapted... to eat... this?”

“It’s uncanny. The longer it goes on, the more I realize I get sick from real food than I do from the paste. Or anything else I eat.” He cleared his throat, noticing his attention wandering to her scientific equipment. “My people’ve developed pica recently, myself included. Dr. Sun says eating non-food indicates malnutrition, which... confirms to me my theory that the formula for the paste’s changed. Maybe it’s expired finally. Who knows.”

“If you get sick from what you call ‘real’ food, then do you not get sick from eating what you consider not ‘real’ food? Maybe you’re mixed up which thing is food and which one isn’t.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” he mumbled, brow furrowed thoughtfully.

“That’s the great thing about Science! though. Multiple perspectives can illuminate the simplest answer, when from just one you might not notice it.”

“Are you... are you proposing that I stop trying to eat real food? That’s gonna be real difficult, considerin’ what you’ve got there is the last of the paste rations I brought with me. I’m from Blackstone, and even if I could get back there in a timely fashion, I... kind of doubt I could get let back in. Not without something that’d make it worth it to ‘em.”

“Blackstone! My, you’re a long way from home. And all for Science! I admire that.”

“Yeah...”

He rubbed the back of his head, glancing off awkwardly. Duff began a second test sample of the paste, having gotten the first one going in a centrifugal spinner.

“What, besides the paste, have you been eating?”

“Most of my people’ve been eating chalk, or even river mud, but that’s just what I know of. We don’t really talk about it. It’s... a private matter. I’ve been eating a lot of metal stuff in the past few weeks. Even fusion cells. I felt so good the night I ate those batteries. ...Radiation made Bloatflies develop that gland, you said? You don’t think...?” Suddenly he remembered he’d eaten the last of his paste rations the same night, and he grimaced, but said nothing.

“My word, you’ve been eating nuclear materials! You must either have a Lead Belly, or you don’t show symptoms of illness on your sleeve.”

“Believe me, I’m real sick, but I don’t think it’s radiation sickness.”

“Without the results of the tests I’m running, I don’t have any answers for you. Come back in a few hours, and maybe we can get to the bottom of this together.” She laughed gaily. “Maybe... go on your little field trip?”

“I just might,” he replied, excusing himself to let her finish her work.

[cannibalisticshadows]

LTA Prompt: I think it'd be really cute if Megs paints Roxanne's nails! Can it be a blue color, like her dress at the end of the movie?

Loving The Alien: Part 18: “Nails”

(Ao3 Link)

She giggles when his pinkie finger brushes against the underside of her foot.

Megamind’s hands are truly lovely. Long and skilled elegant fingers. He holds her heel with all the gentleness in the world, a severe contrast to this morning. With her, he’s tender. With others, he’s awkward and troublesome and rough. She knew he was clueless when it came to most social interactions; while she didn’t know if it was because of humans in general, or the socializing part, Roxanne did know it was an educational experience to go shopping with him.

He tolerated the girls who wanted to take their picture with her; but when it came to the checkout she couldn’t quite keep him in check. He was overly blunt in his open observations, and could not carry on a conversation without terrifying, or being terrified of, the poor clerk who was simply trying to do his job. He seemed to use fear as a weapon when it effected him, too. She’s certain that in his early battles with Wayne, his goal was primarily on beating his nemesis. As for owning Metro City, it was the title and the place, not the people. He could barely stand the company of strangers.

…But back to his hands. Ahh, are they exquisite! How did she get so lucky to have him all to herself?

“You are very ticklish,” he notes aloud, jamming the brush back into the little glass bottle. He pulls it back out and gently lifts her foot again. She sighs as he paints on another coat of deep navy. “If I had known that years ago, I would have drawn out plenty more reactions from you!”

“That would be cheating,” she says coyly, flexing her toes.

He’s sitting in front her on the floor, as she sits back against one of the pillows they’ve taken from her bed, leaning against the foot of the couch. The television plays behind him, on some documentary about turtles, but she could care less about it right now. Her feet at in his lap, and he’s bent over her toes as he pretties her up. Beside her is a bowl of half melted watermelon sorbet, and another bowl of triple chocolate made from cashew milk. It’s dark out, and the only light besides her TV is the kitchen light, casting shadows on his sharp face, pinched in focus over her feet. She smiles, ridiculously happy in the moment.

“Precisely,” he purrs. “Cheating is in my veins. I’m a supervillain, Miss Ritchi! I don’t play nice!”

“Oh, stop it you,” Roxanne snipes playfully, nudging his face with her other foot, all dark navy toes against his clear blue skin. He smirks, turning his head to press a kiss against the side of her foot. She pulls back, gasping, because she doesn’t want to give him more reason to poke fun at her ticklishness. But of course he catches it, and smirks at her again.

As the last coat of polish is applied to her left pinkie toe, Megamind straightens his back and looks down at her feet, his canvas. “Voila!”

She carefully flexes her toes and wiggles them, admiring his handiwork. “You could make a living as a pedicurist,” she teases.

“Petty-cure,” he echos, tilting his head as his expression twists up. “I’m not familiar with the term.”

“What you just did,” she says, and carefully stands up off the floor. She huffs as she drops onto the couch, propping her feet up on the coffee table. “A manicurist does hands,” she wiggles her painted fingers, “but plenty of people do both.” Megamind chirps in response as he screws the brush top back onto the bottle, placing it carefully on the table before dropping down beside her.

They returned home a little after lunch time; she managed to rope him into helping her cook a quick meal, but he was more helpful than she imagined. She’d almost forgotten he said he liked to bake and cook, when the desire arose. But cooking with Megamind was fun; a little silliness in the kitchen that resulted in a smudge of mayonnaise on her cheek and on his nose and peas all over the floor, but together they put together a tuna casserole—her grandmother’s star recipe. While that was in the oven, she turned around to find him hovering by her shoulder, his eyes smoldering with want.

Roxanne found herself being pressed against the counter, gently, with his hands on her waist. His lips chased hers, whispering pleas and inaudible desires. Her tongue sought his, making the alien gasp in mild shock, but doubling his efforts to mirror her.

He was a quick learner.

Their first kiss was unlike this one; while this one left her shaking and drooling with a desire for him to take her then and there on the kitchen floor, it did not make the first kiss pale in comparison. She still remembers as if it was just moments ago the way he froze up in alarm at her placing her lips over his. Like he could not believe what was happening. Yet, slowly, as she pressed her body against his ever so slightly, her hands cupping his face, he steadily began to reciprocate. He pressed his own mouth to hers, unsure and stiff and awkward—all elbows and fluttering hands, until he slowly placed them on her waist.

Now, he pressed against her with a new sense of urgency. A lustful urgency that burned in his eyes, demanding and needy. His mouth, hot and panting, at her neck and clavicle, made her moan aloud and crash into the stove, the knobs digging into her lower back. She hardly noticed until Megamind pulled away sheepishly. As far as mood swings go, he was the king of it. Perhaps it was simply because of his inexperience.

To her mild disappointment, they calmed themselves down and made their way to the couch. They turned the TV on but neither was particularly interested. Instead, he rummaged around their bought goods until he came upon the nail polish. Of all the things he could ask of her, his request to paint her nails was the last thing she could possibly imagine.

And so, having dug into the ice cream before they had their late lunch/early dinner, Roxanne found themselves sitting close together on the couch, with her admiring his handiwork.

“Megamind, did you ever paint your nails before?” She asks, tilting her head to lean against his. He grunted in response, gingerly taking ahold of her left hand, spreading her fingers out.

“I painted them what you call black as an adolescent. I painted them a second time with—well, I call it star dust. But Warden said it was a shade of violet. I didn’t really bother with my nails afterwords,” he explained, looking at his own fingers once he set her hand down. “Painting them is not really all that fun, at least for me, now that I’m an adult. Besides, I wear gloves most of the time.” Megamind glance at said gloves, which were limply hung over her television stand. She’s so used to seeing them on him that it was almost bizarre to see them without hands inside! A sillier part of her wanted to try them on for size. She didn’t because firstly, his hands were a bit larger, and secondly, he had two whole extra fingers.

“But painting yours was quite enjoyable,” he admits sheepishly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “…I’d like to do it again, if you’ll let me?”

She smiled softly, taking pity on his hesitance. “Of course. It’s more of a luxury for me, I’d imagine.”

He tutted, but didn’t respond.

At that moment, the timer to the oven went off, alerting them that the casserole was done. Megamind hummed happily, standing up with her as she went to get it. He liked her cooking, which she was pleased by. Of course, feeding people her own cooking was gratifying, but for him, it gave her a new sense of satisfaction that was alien to her, though not unwelcome.

She watched him leap ahead of her, reaching for the oven with a cocksure smile as if he’d won a race. Shaking her head, Roxanne let him do it, still shaken to see him able to pull out a hot, glass pan out of the oven with ease using his bare hands.

As she watched him meddle in her kitchen, placing the pan on the counter and making a mild fuss about needing things not being in his immediate reach, she thought over the things that had transpired in the past weeks.

Three weeks… had it really been that long?

This connection between them, if it was forced to be pinpointed on a specific date, was set off the day of his contact fell out during the failed kidnapping. The day after, Megamind showed up here, shaking in his boots, and practically begged on his knees to never tell what she saw. Which was confusing then, but understandable now. He saw himself ugly. Roxanne frowned, disagreeing with all of her heart. Megamind, so alien and strange, could not fathom being accepted by the human population on the principle that because was so different, he would be ridiculed more than he already was. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons he became a villain. To be hated, feared, so that people had a lawful reason to.

Roxanne could not, much to her anger, make people accept the unusual. The strange. The unique. Megamind knew that, and shut himself away so far he could barely socialize with others now. Would that ever change?

When she blatantly told him she did not mind his alienness, his bright green reptilian eyes or the long blue tail, the extra fingers or the sharp, shark like teeth, Megamind took a leap of faith. He began to… trust her. And so, he started coming over early in the morning or late at night, simply to talk with her. He always had an excuse—he never showed up without reason, but Roxanne knew he was there to see her. For whatever reason, she’s mildly certain it wasn’t because he was in love with her yet. He was there to test a theory. To see if she truly didn’t mind the non-humanness of him.

One thing led to another, and he suddenly decided it was too obvious he was getting close to her. Which led him to say he wanted to change their relationship.

The rest was history, like any other couple just starting out; the kisses, the long talks, the gentle touches, the shared dinner, the moment his tail dropped itself and he was forced to stay with her as it grew back.

He was fine now. But it was clear he wan’t exactly going anywhere any time soon.

Roxanne couldn’t help but think: how long would this thing between them last? She’d been head over heels before, but never like this. She’d had boyfriends, a few girlfriends, and was content to live out in a mutually beneficial relationship that would wind down someday. Typically that happened when they got sick of each other, or things just didn’t work out. Other factors got in the way, her heart was mended, tears dried up, life went on.

But she’s known Megamind for nearly seven years. It feels like she’s known him all of her life, yet this thing is so new. So… strong. Her heart leaped into her throat and her chest tightened at the thought of him approaching her one day and simply saying, I think we should see other people.

She doesn’t think she could ever get over that heartbreak. Yet, one day, he would have to go. This blissful domestic-ness between them would find an end. They had two very different visions in life, two very different paths to lead, and…

“I can hear you thinking, treasure,” Megamind says, startling her out of her sudden moroseness. He moved so quietly, and she so deep in though, that Roxanne didn’t hear him abandon his kitchen work to come up to her. He tilts his head, almost touching hers, eyes bright and cautious, searching. “Tick tick tick.” He waggles his fingers. “What’s gotten you so mel-on-cholly?”

“What?”

“Sad.”

“Oh. Nothing.” He frowns, and opens his mouth to insist, but she shakes her head. “Really, it’s nothing. Let’s eat?”

Megamind won’t let it go, she knows. He looks too determined now, but he’s still so tender with her he won’t press her for the truth. Upset that she’s ruined the mood, she tries to soothe it by a kiss to his cheek. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s been a long day.”

The blue alien eyes her warily, tail curling a bit to brush against her ankle, but he complies and follows her into the kitchen.

~.~.~.~

Supper was relatively quiet, and with her sudden terrifying thoughts of him leaving, she tells him she’s turning in early. Megamind, not having exactly done anything alone in her apartment before (besides when he left for a bit yesterday morning), declines her offer of having full rein of the television. Instead, he follows her upstairs and turns the covers down with her, sliding beneath the bedclothes before she could ask if he was even tired.

Wordlessly, she gets in beside him. As she turns the bedside lamp off, and they’re bathed in darkness, he asks, in the protection of the night, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Megamind.”

“… B—”

“I’m fine. Really.” Roxanne then turns over and pretends to go to sleep. It’s weird though, knowing her bedfellow was aware of her alertness, and feeling his buzzing, half-manic energy. He’s watching her, she thinks, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. How good was his night vision? Could he see her in this pitch black? Could he see the way she wanted to turn in on herself?

They stay in that state until she falls asleep, restlessly.

~.~.~.~

Roxanne wakes up to the sound of beeping. Instinctually, after a seven year routine, she reaches out to put the alarm clock on snooze. However, her alarm was never set, and as she slaps the clock the sound doesn’t turn off. Her eyes open, alert, to see the sun barely peaking over the city’s horizon through her window.

She feels Megamind shift and sit up in the bed, and the beeping stops. She turns over to face him, askance. He’s holding his wrist up, watch up in the air. “What, Minion?” He asks with a huff. There are dark marks under his eyes. Did he sleep?

“Sir,” comes the static shrill voice of his fishy companion through the watch’s speakers.

“What?” Snaps the alien.

“There’s—been an incident.”

“Elaborate.”

“Um. Is Miss Ritchi there?” Minion seems to say her name like it’s a curse. God. Did he really dislike her that much, or was he just jealous for ‘stealing’ his boss/friend?

“Yes.”

“You may want to bring her to the Lair, too, Sir.”

Megamind looks to her in surprise, as if she has any idea why Minion was asking for both of them. She shrugs, as clueless as he. The alien squirms around until he can slide off his side of the bed. She props herself up on her elbow, throat still parched from her sleep. “What happened?”

“I—um, there’s—“

“Speak!”

“Someone took a picture.”

“What?”

“A picture of you and Miss Ritchi. Together. It’s all over the Internet.“

[disparais]

those who don't believe in magic will never find it

little isa has been working really hard to untangle my thoughts from my emotions. right now they’re one brilliant mess of colours because it’s been so long since anyone has drawn out so many intensely personal thoughts and vulnerabilities from me, all in the span of a fortnight at most.

it all still feels so surreal, finally getting to dive into the depths that i’d always known lurked beneath the roiling waves. she is an ocean, i think, with trenches and grottoes - some undiscovered, some willfully unexplored. there are so many things going on at once; teeming life, glimmering treasures, the occasional shipwreck. sometimes submarine volcanoes erupt and tectonic plates shift, and if you don’t look closely enough it’s easy to miss all this activity happening deep down below.

the intense surprise at her willingness to initiate vulnerability hasn’t faded - i was floored by the amount of trust she demonstrated in volunteering topics like benchmarking (more on that later). no gift is more precious to me than that of trust.

this has been such a journey, fraught with uncertainties and insecurities that seemed insurmountable at more than one point. i will always be amused by how i can’t remember our first significant encounter (thankfully she remembers it - me offering a goodbye on my way out for class), given little isa’s propensity for minutiae. this is the only relationship i’ve had in my life where i’ve felt an inexplicable compulsion to pursue the relationship, and consistently initiate. i am so grateful that we are where we are right now.

we’re kind of established a new equilibrium, spending quite a bit more of our free time together than we used to. there’s something about being able to curl up under the covers and just do whatever it is we want to, be it browsing social media, watching videos, studying or just talking. even when we’re not speaking, there’s a comfortable air of connectedness that blankets us, and the atmosphere is so warm and fuzzy ahh it recharges me so much i can’t even explain why. also my secret cuddle monster is real!! affirmation/reciprocity is greatly appreciated because i almost never reveal that side of myself to people, and i’m actually super self-conscious about being so touchy hehe.

one part of me has to admit that i’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop, because sometimes i worry that this is too much or i’m imposing, idk. but the fact that the clock is ticking is faintly present in the back of my mind, and i don’t think there’ll be another time in my life where i get to spend quality time with someone i’m willing to be this soft and silly around.

enough of the maudlin thoughts, though.

some things will stay with me for a very long time to come.

on our magical friendship:

it’s absolutely incredible, realizing that all this while, i wasn’t alone in the emotional tumult i went through. just like how i’d agonized over the cupcake night with g, m, l and probably a few other people, she’d done the same with her friends; just like how i’d been in despair over the other night, she’d been genuinely upset too. and the incredible part is that on both occasions, my hypotheses had actually been correct - even the cupcake one, back when i hadn’t known her remotely as well as i do now. (back then, i’d ruled it out because it was arrogant in its presumption that i mattered enough at all to warrant that kind of emotional reaction.) along the way, there have been several 坎坷s, but whether together or separately, we’ve walked the same journey.

i will never cease to be amazed by how compatible our love languages are. i am always precise with my words, and the further down my guard goes the warmer they get; she always seems to know what it is i need, be it word or action. there is something so unbelievably easy and beautiful about not having to spell my every need and worry out, about having someone ready to answer the phone even though i haven’t even dialed their number.

on the powers of logic:

stricken by how potent the combination of my attention to detail, my people-pleasing tendencies (which are quintupled when it comes to my close friends) and my vibe-reading (which i do use most of the time) are, when the information i derive from these are fed into the machine of my logic.

people are fascinating. i have little interest in taking machines apart to examine their inner workings, but with people it’s a different story. it is interesting seeing how people tick, how they might break down, how they can be restored. (the intricacies of kt’s inner world are like nothing i have seen before.)

on the powers of vibes:

kt’s vibe-reading is really something else altogether; never encountered someone as intuitively intelligent as her. interestingly, she is both a master of and a slave to her vibes, i think. they serve her, giving her sometimes-inexplicable rationales for action or thought, but they also have the potential to paralyze, because overheating is possible, and ignorance is sometimes bliss.

on public/private selves, and guardedness:

have always known that i split my persona into public and private on some level, but my guard really rarely comes down to this extent with anyone, so allowing my relatively-private persona out so often these days is a mildly frightening (but also exhilarating) thing. perhaps what will stick with me is the startling revelation that i delight in having this clear distinction between the version of myself i present to the general public, and those in my inner circle. even for those in my inner circle, different people make it to different layers, though since the continent theory doesn’t apply to me it’s more a matter of how deeply these people manage to get me to trust them.

one of the ways people in my inner circle can tell that they matter, no matter whether i’m projecting my public or private self, is the fondness i cannot resist showing them. maybe it’s an extra-radiant smile, a lingering wave, or a hand brushed over their back. being able to disclose my affection towards them, even if just in passing, never fails to elicit a quiet flicker of warmth in my chest.

(on a sidenote, i realized i get disappointed when close friends don’t appear to pick up on my subtle cues of affection, such as specific word choices or certain gestures i had to go out of my way to make. i am such an isfj sobs the whole quiet-giving-with-no-expectations-but-yet-yearning-for-appreciation thing is real.)

on benchmarking:

it was only after she shared that i felt prepared to reciprocate and open up about benchmarking. it’s something that i’ve struggled with for so long, and i’ve always been so deeply ashamed (strong word, but not entirely inaccurate) about benchmarking that i’d never even entertained the thought of confessing it in its entirety to anyone.

what a relief, that i’m not alone in this unique hell. perhaps these are wounds that may never heal, but i have the assurance that i am someone worth being benchmarked for, and in its own twisted way that brings me a certain peace of mind as well.

on being a scorpio:

i understand why we are made out to be jealous, possessive and fiery. the sheer intensity of what i feel for my close friends terrifies me sometimes. i seem placid, because i always 轻描淡写 wherever i can get away with it. truthfully, i love with the gentleness of rivers, but also the force of hurricanes; for some people, i would move heaven and earth, in my own way.