#and me being a bad person as me being a good person

[awrkive]

[TEASER] CATCH YOUR WAVE (m) — JJK.

the last thing you expected when you strolled into your new school is to become the favorite project of the 5’11” tatted-up overly enthusiastic, golden-retriever-in-human-form PE teacher, jeon jungkook. he’s all goofy grins, bad math puns, and relentless charm, while you’re busy pretending you’re immune to his antics... spoiler alert: you’re not. and that infuriates you. 

alternatively, jungkook tries to prove that opposites don’t just attract — they collide. a classic case of one plus one equals: “oh, no. i like him.”

PAIRING jeon jungkook x (female) reader

GENRE r18+ (fuff, slight angst, mature content) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

WORD COUNT ~15k (still working around the final wc)

TEASER WORD COUNT 1.8k words

WARNINGS/MISC teachers!au, pe teacher!jk, math teacher!reader, seven!jungkook, himbo!jk, coworkers!au (works in the same school), oc gets kinda mean sometimes but jungkook likes it lmfao, extremely corny pick up lines.. he tries 💔 2000s romcoms references (sorry) warnings for this teaser: nothing major. just bad math puns delivered by himbo jungkook :')

NOTES inspired by the whole “can she gaf me💔” vibes in the seven mv (by jungkook) and ultimately the click five’s song, catch your wave (hence the title🥸 pls listen to the song for the whole vibes hehe <3). ive been wanting to write himbo jk for awhile bcs all my jks are like … smart so far so i thought wait we need to change that. gahhhh im so so freaking excited ive been thinking about writing this ever ever since i wrote that one himbo jk drabble 💃🏼

[ CYW MOODBOARD ] • [ MAIN MASTERLIST ]

RELEASE DATE 2025, FEBRUARY 15TH | 01:00 AM KOREAN STANDARD TIME (GMT+9)

They say life is a balance of good and bad days, and you’re not a pessimistic person, but sometimes enough is enough. How is your week already this bad when it’s just barely started? 

Sunday morning, when you picked up your laundry from the shop, you were too late to realize that you mixed not just one but two white underwear with the colored loads. You’d blame it on the fact that they were too tiny, too flimsy for you to notice. But you know you should’ve double-checked before putting them in the machine. And now you have lost two panties. And in this economy? That shit cost a ton. 

When Monday came and the head of the Math Department informed you there was a sudden shift in your schedule for the semester, it meant that instead of teaching three Algebra classes for tenth graders, you’re also teaching pre-Algebra for eighth graders, meaning you’re gonna have to cross the long walk from the high school building to the middle school one, the latter being all the way to the left wing, completely the opposite side of the right wing where the faculty room and your initial classes are. 

Today, you’ve woken up with your WiFi not connected to the internet (something you have to talk to your landlord about when you come back home) and just two minutes ago, you realized you forgot to take your coffee order with you from the cafe across your school building, the sad garlic bread you bought along with it staring right at you without its beloved beverage pair. 

Truthfully, it might be your last straw. How the hell is this happening to you out of all people? The semester is just starting, for god’s sake, and you’re already hanging on by a thread. 

You take a deep breath on your seat before standing up from your cubicle, heading to the coffee machine by the snack bar.

You hate the coffee here. Whatever brand they keep on stocking the pantry with, it’s too naturally sweet – and you don’t like your coffee with sugar. 

But you have no choice but to make do. The cafe’s too far out and your first class starts in about twenty minutes. 

“Good morning, Ms. Math Genius – ready to crunch some numbers today?” 

As if this day couldn’t get any worse, you shut your eyes close for a moment when you hear the familiar voice. 

You stir your coffee with downturned lips.

“Only if you promise to flex those brain muscles—” You say, turning to look to the side. Much to your expectation, it’s Jeon Jungkook, leaning casually against the wall with that usual faux suave he keeps on around you – which you can’t take seriously because his big doe eyes tell you a completely different story. He’s wearing some Nike dri fit shirt, one that’s too tight around his chest and accentuates a comparatively tiny waist that you have to force your eyes upwards. But as they do, they land on the biceps that are straining against the poor material. It wasn’t lost on you though that one second after, they’re suddenly flexing. You arch your brow as you glance a look on his face. “—as much as you flex those biceps.” 

Jungkook’s lips curl into a huge grin, expecting the jab. 

“You know it!” He chuckles, running his fingers through his bangs. “I’m all about solving problems, and I’d say my favorite equation is you plus me equals a perfect start to the day.” 

You fight a loud groan from escaping your lips as soon as he says that, giving him a certain look before shaking your head and going back to your coffee. 

But you should’ve known better by now, because Jungkook – aside from being a PE teacher extraordinaire and every student’s favorite at that, Thee Football Coach, 5’11” tatted brunette with a long, fluffy hair paired with an objectively, annoyingly attractive face – is persistent. 

Most especially when it comes to annoying you. 

A few steps, and then you feel him getting closer to you. 

“Did you know that—” 

You roll your eyes. That’s it. If it’s another one of his corny math pick-up lines again you swear to god— 

“Jungkook, you don’t have to keep doing this everyda—” 

“—we’re like parallel lines?” 

“What.”

“Did you know that we’re like parallel lines?” Jungkook repeats earnestly, just like he always does. When he’s up in your personal space like this, it’s easy to get a waft of his cologne – and your annoyance could’ve been justified if he smelled like shit but somehow, even though he looks like he just got back from a run judging by his running shoes and gym bag, he still smells… okay. 

Just okay. As in, you don’t care how good he smells like or how he smells at all.

You make sure to keep that thought at the back of your head. 

“No.” You say, hoping to dismiss the conversation right there as you pick up the cup of coffee from the machine, ready to turn on your heel, but then Jungkook laughs ever so slightly and gives your arm a barely-there poke.

“Come on, entertain me a little.” 

You squint your eyes at him. He challenges your stare with a growing smile on his face. Scoffing, you roll your eyes again before you put the paper cup back on the table. With a sigh, you cross your arms and look at Jungkook. For a split second, his eyes cast downwards to your chest level but he quickly snaps out of it. 

“Okay… we’re like parallel lines… why? Because we’ll never meet?” You say in response to his little request, keeping your tone impassive. 

Jungkook’s eyes slowly widen at your words, smile slowly dropping – as if the logic of your words have ruined one of his million pick-up lines again. 

“I– no! What? I meant, we’re like, always running to each other! Side by side. Parallel lines.”

“Okay… so still never meeting?” You ask impatiently, brows furrowing. 

Jungkook mirrors your confusion. Then, he raises a hand, one finger up. “One second. I’ll fix this–” he takes his phone out from his pocket, types on it quickly, lip jutting out as he reads whatever he’s looking up, and then, “Ohh, I might have meant asymptote lines. We’re like asymptote lines.” 

Your face contorts into even deeper confusion. Holy shit, you’re not dealing with this very early on in the morning, especially not after the circumstances of the past hours.

“Asymptote lines are more depressing than parallel lines if we’re talking metaphorically.” 

Jungkook squints his eyes at you, suspicious. “Are you sure?”

“I would hope I know my lines, Jungkook. I teach them everyday.” 

He laughs again, eyes crinkling at the corners cutely, and you hate how that tugs something at your heartstrings. 

You catch yourself right at that moment.

Jeon Jungkook is not cute. You keep in mind. He’s not cute. 

Jungkook thinks you’re so cute. Gorgeous, most of all, and unbelievably so. You and your signature furrowed brows and pink pouty lips.

As usual, you have your hair up in a clean bun today, and Jungkook can smell the lace of sweet vanilla from you as he takes a step closer to get a cup for himself. 

He loves the coffee here. Whatever brand they keep stocking the pantry with, it’s sweet as fuck. Just like how Jungkook likes his caffeine dose. Kind of like you, he thinks. 

Jungkook casts a quick glance at you again, can't really help himself when you're so pretty, although he makes sure to be subtle about it.

You’re wearing another one of your pencil skirts, one that he has to avoid staring at for longer than three seconds lest his mind takes him too far – but the upper view is even more of a torture, unfortunaly for him. Because as much as you wear the same outfit every single day and it should mean that Jungkook should get used to it by now, he can never be immune to your silk long sleeves, where you keep the top three buttons open – and as much as Jungkook tries to pry his gaze away from the exposed skin down from your neck, it’s like there’s a strange force in the universe that keeps him on it. Doesn’t really help that you like crossing your arms under your chest, too, making his mind run a mile per minute at the thoughts that form inside his head when a very apparent cleavage shows—

Alright. Damn. It’s like 8 am. 

And you were saying something about lines…

“Yeah? I hope you can teach me too, I need to—” 

“Goodbye, Mr. Jeon.” You cut him off before he can even finish his sentence, taking your coffee with you as you head to the direction of your cubicle. 

The nickname makes Jungkook’s lips curl up. He probably shouldn’t smile, given that you only ever call him that when you want to cut the conversation with him short. But he can’t help it, it sounds sweet coming from your pretty lips. 

In an attempt to not look like a fool, Jungkook bites his lip as he watches your disappearing figure, your heels clicking on the floor as you walk away. Your legs look so long in that grey pencil skirt, and it really should be criminal how you look like that even when you’re just showing your back. 

In his trance, he forgets about the brewing coffee in his cup and absentmindedly takes it out while the machine is still running, the hot liquid pouring from the nozzle quickly burning the skin on his finger. 

“Oh, shit!” He hisses, jumping from the shock, almost knocking his coffee out but thankfully he manages to catch it on time, just as when another member of the faculty walks by the snack bar. 

With an awkward smile, Jungkook raises a thumbs up to Mrs. Lee. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Lee. Looking rad as always.” He cheerfully greets, and Mrs. Lee’s confusion from seeing him fumble with his cup earlier quickly turns into a coo. 

“Oh, Mr. Jeon, you charming kid. I was just gonna get my cup of coffee.” She says, walking towards his direction. 

Jungkook adjusts the strap of his gym bag to his shoulder and takes a cup for Mrs. Lee with a grin, making her smile. 

She thanks him and with a playful salute, Jungkook goes toward the general direction of his cubicle, and because the PE department and Math department are just across from each other, he walks past you, typing something on your iPad before you look around and catch his gaze.

Jungkook automatically waves, smiling brightly, but you only frown, shutting your iPad close and ignoring him.

Amused, Jungkook tries to fight off a huge grin, taking a few long strides to get to his own cubicle. 

His day is already off to a good start.

© 𝐀𝐖𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐕𝐄 2025. all rights reserved. copying, editing, reposting and/or translating any of my works are not allowed.

[book-lore]

Okay so I wasn't going to reply to this but I am still getting over being sick and this stuck to me. And for the record, it's okay that the OP feels this way and what I'm about to say doesn't mean they are wrong or bad or anything. Let's leave that person in peace. But as to why people don't like Valentine's day and some people even hate it, a gentle reminder:

There are a wide variety of reasons people can find certain holidays objectionable and one that tackles love specifically can be especially difficult for people who are struggling. A recent divorcee might wish to sit this day out because it can bring up how difficult being newly out of a relationship can be. This can be made even worse if the relationship was decades long and they aren't sure how to navigate the world of being single that looks nothing like when they were dating before. People who struggle socially who want relationships can find this to be a day that makes them feel a little more lonely. People who have lost a partner might feel their absence more acutely, even if that loss was years ago. People who have escaped abusive situations might have extremely mixed or hostile feelings about Valentines day (especially given how violent partners tend to become worse around holidays and this is extra true where the abused party is expected to behave a certain way). People who are in the closet might be feeling particularly confused or wounded right now as they feel worlds away from being able to accept or even find love.

The point of this isn't to drag the original poster, but it can be good to understand why sometimes hearts can be delightful for some and heavy for others. I know that some people can be well intentioned and say things like "think of the chocolate and candy" or "it's made up anyway" or "celebrate it with your friends instead", but those aren't really helpful. Love and its reminders can mean a lot of things to people and sometimes they bring up the bad emotions. Sometimes what people need isn't candy or hearts or even a pretend reason to see a friend. Sometimes they need to cry and a day that reminds them of loss or something they lack is what does it for them. Sometimes what they need is to know that they aren't the only one who feels like that when stores and displays and everything around them seems to point out what's making them feel sore.

It's okay to enjoy Valentine's Day. There are plenty of ways to do so if that's what you like. It's also okay to sit it out if you're sore or you're feeling a lot. It's alright if it's just another day in February.

dont understand people who "don't like" valentines day... I personally dgaf that its "made up" and "commercialist"... i love heart shaped things and i love everyone in my life. Its really simple

[no-144444]

abu dhabi- o.piastri

summary: your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.

pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader

warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist, mentions of crashes and injuries.

a/n: thank you all very much for your patience, this series means a lot to me and I've had a lot of personal stuff going on, so I felt bad for leaving you guys hanging for a bit. Thank you all so much for reading this series and I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I love writing it!

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Abu Dhabi. World Drivers Champion. World Constructors Champions.

Holy shit. 

All those years of hard work, of giving up being a child, of giving up having friends or family. You’d done it. You were a winner. 

You jumped out of the car and ran straight to Oscar, jumping in his arms. He caught you (of course) and cheered with you. 

“You fucking did it!” he smiled, pulling your helmet off. “You did it!” 

Every emotion flooded through you, but one in particular stood out; gratefulness. 

You were grateful for Oscar, for how he treated you, for who he was. He was there for you through everything, he helped you whenever he could, and while yes, you had a rough start, in the end you couldn’t imagine F1 without Oscar in it. 

“Thank you, Osc, for everything,” you smiled, hugging him close. 

“Anytime. Whenever. Always,” he nodded. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

He was drunk as fuck, but he was still watching you as you chatted with various team members. 

“You’re fucked, aren’t you?” Lando chuckled, joining his side. 

Oscar rolled his eyes. “I’m drunk, yes.”

“No. You’re fucked for her,” Lando pointed twoards you. Perfect, unreachable, you. 

“Yes,” he nodded, frowning. “I’m fucked for her.”

“It’s pretty clear.”

“I know it is,” Oscar scoffed. “Thanks for Baku, by the way.”

Lando sighed. “Look, I’ve said a lot of shit this season that I didn’t mean, and I’m sorry I was a dick to the two of you. It wasn’t right and I do feel bad about it. So, I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, but that doesn’t solve the fact that she’s being this mysterious weirdo and acting really into me and then really not,” Oscar whined. 

“She’s a very broken person-”

“You think?” Oscar rolled his eyes. “You’re not exactly giving me much hope right now.”

Lando laughed at his drunk state. “Just talk to her,” he offered. “She listens to you no matter what.”

Oscar stared at him, then nodded. “Good idea!” he announced (a little too loud as it drew the attention of a few people around the two of them), and looked at you. But you weren’t there. Oscar frowned again. 

“You’ll find her before the end of the night, I’m sure you will,” Lando clapped a hand on his shoulder and passed him a bottle of water to sober him up. “Good luck.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Oscar had decided to go find you, he wanted to talk. On the way there, he’d acquired about three more drinks and pissed off a small group of other McLaren employees by spilling one of his three drinks and apologised profusely (albeit rather mumbly), and that’s when you came in with a hand on his shoulder and a gentle smile that brushed it all over. 

“Are you alright?” you asked him, taking him to a corner to look him over. 

“Y/n?” he questioned, his vision blurry. “Is that you?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, it’s me buddy, you alright?” 

He nodded, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for a hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you too, Osc, come on, we get you to bed?” you offered, pulling one of his arms over your shoulder and helping him walk. 

“Bed sounds good,” he nodded, allowing you to walk him to his room. 

Drunk Oscar was what you assumed three year olds acted like. He pressed every button in the lift, ding-dong ditched people in the hallway, and stripped (almost) naked the second he got in the door of his room. After a few minutes of being in his room, he decided it was a good time to puke his guts out in the toilet, and you, being the good samaritan you are, decided to stay with him. 

“Feeling any better?” you asked, putting a cold cloth on his head as he lay in bed. You sat beside him, holding his hand. 

He shook his head, his eyes closed and a grimace on his lips. “Shit.” 

You chuckled lightly. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

He opened his eyes and stared into yours, his hand resting over your hand. And time (as it always did when he was looking at you like that) stopped. The world melted away, and it didn’t matter that it was 2 in the morning, or that he’d just vomited, or that all of this was a lot more confusing than either of you had anticipated. You two just got to be with each other, and that was enough for the both of you. 

“Why don’t you love me?” he asked, his voice small and raw. He spoke to you with all the care in the world, but you could see he was hurting. You were hurting him. 

Fuck. Why couldn’t any of this be easy? Why couldn’t you just… talk to him? Confess to him? Be normal? The boy you love was sitting there in front of you telling you he loved you and you just… froze for a moment. You took a deep breath.  “Osc, of course I love you,” you whispered. “But you shouldn’t love me. I wouldn’t be any good for you.”

“I don’t care-”

“You’d end up hating me-”

“I could never hate you,” he shook his head, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek. “I could never hate you.”

And you believed him. That was the scary part. You believed him when he told you he loved you. You believed him when he said he cares. You believed him when he said you look beautiful. You believed him when he said he wouldn’t hate you. “You should,” you whispered, tears forming in your eyes. 

“I couldn’t,” he whispered back, a soft smile on his face. He wiped away a tear that fell. “I don’t want you to be scared of how you feel.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” your voice broke. “I’m not an easy person to love.”

“I disagree,” he chuckled, wiping every tear away. “I find it’s as easy as breathing.” 

And you couldn’t take it anymore. You curled up beside him and sobbed. You didn’t know how long you’d done it for, but you woke up beside him, the steady rise and fall of his chest against your head giving you something to ground yourself to. You remembered every moment of last night, every word he said, and everything you said. 

You just hoped he wouldn’t. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

When Oscar woke up, he knew there was something he had asked you last night, but he couldn’t remember what. After his conversation with Lando, there was nothing else he really remembered, apart from the fact that you had brought him up to his room, and he pieced together that he’d probably asked you to stay (being the pathetic hopeless romantic he is), and that’s why you were in his bed. 

A few seconds after waking up, the hangover hit, and fuck it was bad. His entire body ached. 

“I’m never drinking again,” he groaned, his voice hoarse. 

You chuckled beside him. “Remember anything?” 

He sighed, turning to meet your eyes. “Nope.”

As much as that destroyed you, you knew it was for the better. Oscar was better off without you, that, you knew for sure. But, you also couldn't put aside the confession he'd made last night. “I find it’s as easy as breathing.” It played in your head over and over again, like a mantra that made every negative thought in your head silent for a few seconds. Oscar was good at that, making you question yourself. Either way, you were glad he hadn't remembered. It was for the better, right?

There was a split second where he could’ve sworn he saw a flash of disappointment in your eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it was there, replaced with a smile. “Well, let’s go back to Monaco.”

He groaned just thinking about facing the day, but the fact that he woke up next to you meant it was better than any day he’d ever had. 

He definitely needed to know what he asked you last night. And you definitely needed him to not find out. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

playing favourites masterlist

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

taglist for this series: (just ask in the comments to be added :)

@smithieandy @anotherapollokid @amz824 @itgirlofthecenturysposts @lokideservesahug @annaluna12 @daemyratwst @nichmeddar @milkysoop @il0vereadingstuff@sleutherclaw@f1wh0recom @st4rg1rln @sleutherclaw @i-love-sirius-black7 @formulas-bitch @prettiest-at-the-party @primadonaprincess55 @teti-menchon0604 @dark-night-sky-99 @sadiemack9 @greasywall @kingshitonly @bellaiscool @i-wish-this-was-me @leeknowinggg @primadonnaprincess55 @teti-menchon0604 @dark-night-sky-99 @sadiemack9 @greasywall @kingshitonly @bellaiscool @widow-cevans @trashstacy @waywardsestras @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @buckybarnessimpp @pausmoon @dying-inside-but-its-classy @sinfully-yoursssn @revrse @hurtblossom @amz824 @ellelabelle @wierdflowerpower

[evesedenramblings]

Highlights of the “In-Character” portion of the Project Eden’s Garden AMONG US stream in no particular order:

Damon introducing himself as “the Ultimate Debater. A prodigy among prodigies. Someone who simply can’t be outmatched.” And everyone going dead silent before making fun of his egotistical ass

Eva hiding in the corner of the waiting room

Diana going to the corner of the waiting room with Eva to keep her company

Kai being the reason the stream started late because he couldn’t decide the perfect look for his Among Us character

All their little characters matching them so well; Wolfgang in a little suit, Grace with bunny ears, Wenona with bear ears, Tozu’s goat horns, etc, and Eva just having absolutely nothing on

Wolfgang and Jean not knowing how to play video games and just doing their best

How utterly excited Tozu is that everyone is playing a killing game and he gets to play too

Damon yelling OH GOD DAMMIT so bad the mic reverberated after Wolfgang killed him

Wolfgang being imposter, killing everyone, and going “that was fun! 🙂”, followed by Jean going “I didn’t know you had it in you!” and Wolfgang replying with “I didn’t know I had it in me either 🙂”

Ulysses mention that apparently in-world he was supposed to attend but overslept (possible explanation that is why Wenona attended)

Wolfgang doesn’t know what tiktok is

Kai and Damon sticking together and doing tasks and everyone going “yeah okay”

^^^ My personal favourite is Cassidy telling everyone to come look at them doing tasks together on the cameras and Jean going “oh so those two were off canoodling somewhere”

Cassidy being the kind of Among Us player who bets everything on “you’ll be sorry” or “do it then” and expects it to work and is shocked every time when it doesn’t

Tozu dying early on in every game

Damon catching an imposter in a lie by saying he couldn’t have been the killer, because he was with “Kai, his very good friend”

Jean saying “a princess has to look her best” when Cassidy makes fun of Kai taking too much time in customization menu and then adding “welcome back princess” when Kai finished

Wolfgang hitting Damon with “it’s just a game” when Damon was locked the fuck in on busting Wolfgang as imposter

Diana going for Tozu first as imposter and still being an absolutely terrible liar

Cassidy correct guessing Damon as the imposter begging him loudly not to kill her in voice proximity, so he actually can’t kill her anymore, so instead he scoffs and goes “wish” before trotting off

Damon being revealed as imposter last minute and Eva yelling about how she trusted him. Kai also being there.

Grace and Wenona very clearly not knowing how the game works but refusing to admit it

Cassidy calling Wolfgang Grace’s boytoy

[valalice]

જ⁀➴ FOR THE FAME. a violet modern musician au

punk rockstar!vi 𝑥 popstar!reader

summary. the music industry—known for its raw creativity, dazzling performances, and turning anyone into an overnight sensation. but what comes with newfound success is being able to maintain a steady stream of traction around your name (whether it's good or bad, because all press is good press. right?), for some artists it comes naturally, becoming chart climbers release after release, while for others they struggle falling down the charts and becoming known as just a one hit wonder. now, when two artists under the same label are both getting sly criticism from blogs commenting on their declines, their managers have no other choice but to curate a classic pr stunt to regain their public appeal again, while creating buzz around their respective upcoming projects. what could happen when the industry's rebel and sweetheart become the unexpected pair of the year?

warnings. fluff, angst, and eventual smut. modern au. fake dating. enemies to friends to lovers. slow burn. reader's stage name is angel, you guys can honestly change it if you'd so like since it's rarely used. no use of "y/n". musicians: powder, ekko, claggor, and caitlyn. choreographer!mel. producer!jayce. homophobia and talk of internalized homophobia & comphet. addiction: alcohol & substance abuse, as well as talk of rehab. inaccurate knowledge of the music industry. social media extras & extended scene cuts. please check each individual chapter for appropriate warnings!

a/n. i'm am beyond excited to finally share this series with you all! this series started as a one off idea, and, well it turned into this. i know some have expected this, i've been throwing out teasers (more will still come) for some time. and to be honest i should not even be posting this series right now, but i cannot contain it for much longer, i'm just eager to get it out for people to enjoy! and is it hypocritical for me to be posting a series with the amount of drafts and request in my inbox? perhaps! but i promise that i will try my best to dually post between the series and other works! i'm still working on a posting schedule, so be on the look out for polls!

biggest thank you to @topimpabunny for dealing with my rants constantly, and bouncing ideas back and forth off of each other. truly, everyone thank her, because without her this series wouldn't even exist! another big big thank you to @veramores my wife, my best friend, for putting up with me yapping her ear away for like over an over. but nonetheless she is also apart of this series for giving me different perspectives on things. lots of love to the both of you <3

main masterlist ⋆ vi masterlist ⋆ read it on ao3

table of contents ◞ TRACKLIST

' 🅴 ' indicates smut

prelude ♪ popularity contest. ( releasing february 7th on all music platforms )

label mandated events. everyone dreads them, but social networking is a must; an art form managers have mastered and a sport to artists in order to thrive in the competitiveness that is the music industry. and it’s here where the two of you were closer than you had even thought.

track one ♪ sold your soul for . . . this? ( releasing february 14th on all music platforms )

with albums set to release during the summertime, meetings ensue to keep the artists on track. however, unpleasant news is shared that gives wake up calls when careers are on the line. oh, and a not-so-meet-cute happens between the bubbling popstar and spunky rocker.

track two ♪ the master plan.

uh, oh! looks like the track is still being produced!

extras ◞ DELUX EDITION

social media post

coming soon!

exposed ◞ BEHIND THE SCENES

discography ⋮ series playlist. reader's. vi's.

meet the artist ⋮ reader ꒱ vi ( tell all's coming soon! )

WANT A FEATURE?

comment on this post (and this post only) to be added to the 'for the fame' taglist! (i'm no longer responding to individually to each person who asks to be on the taglist, but i do see the comments and you are added!)

🎥 taglist. @sawaagyapong @baylegend6 @hauntedbydreams @sevisrealwife @dameacia @tdawg2012 @usuck @foralltheprettygirls @aphrodyk3 @ar1anw3n @jupitism @into-f0lkl0re @minaridior @sinsyster @oceangalore @prwttiestbunny @amsxdoll @ur-ur-urmom

[space929]

I need to mask constantly because I need to be very careful not to offend the allistics because they're not sensitive - I'm sensitive, not them - but they hate their precious nonsensical social norms being broken.

TW: ableism and SA mentions

But I can't learn not to hurt people. That'd mean that I didn't need to be coddled, and I am capable of empathy and average intelligence. It'd also mean that bigotry and SA aren't something you naturally do. Bigotry is learned. SA isn't done by any decent person. It has nothing to do with being born and everything to do with your mindset and environment.

Autistic people, in my experience, are more likely to be more accepting. Our community has massive overlap with minorities and counter cultures because we don't understand or subscribe to meaningless norms. You may while masking, but that doesn't mean you always will. I subscribe to the norm of conversation while masking, but I rarely talk when I'm not because I'm semi-verbal and it can take a lot out of me.

In my experience, we also may be more likely to understand personal space because we've had ours invaded our entire lives. I've dealt with the forced hugs that make my skin burn like I've been lit on fire, the way so many people don't think to ask before touching because they don't mind [x] and their allistic friends (allegedly) don't mind [x] so they don't consider that you might.

And I've dealt with the upset that comes along with telling people not to touch you without permission. The annoyance. The confusion and sadness that will often be used against you.

The issue lies in normalcy. The first two things have been normalized by society, whether we want to admit it or not. The last three are socially unacceptable.

It lies in what society considers a normal thing to be. Something that it considers natural. It's not seen as learned behavior but inherent. It's a combination of excusing oppression and the belief that autistic people are less capable. Less developed.

If they coddle us while we do heinous shit, it allows them to continue the cycle of bigotry and oppression. If they coddle us while we break their norms, it's saying that it's okay to be deviant (in the neutral sociological sense, not in the insult way that people have adopted it as. Deviance in sociology is literally just going against the norm, whether good or bad).

Basically, this is just a lot of ableism and bigotry. It's also an excuse for me to ramble about something far deeper than the original post because deviance and norms were my favorite sociology lessons when I took the class, and my parents are tired of hearing about it.

In my opinion, we should abolish social norms. It'd make my life easier. We should also acknowledge that autism is not synonymous with being an asshole. They are very, very different.

Things that society considers autism an excuse for

Nazi salutes

sexual assault

Things that society considers autism not an excuse for and things that people think children who do should be met with violence

using the wrong tone

showing too much or too little emotion

asking questions and having an authority figure take it as "arguing"

[takes1]

your needy Kenma smut was SOOO good omfg I was biting my fist reading it!! can i request a needy suna smut?

needy!suna rintarou x reader

hi!! so glad you liked it!! wow this took me so long i'm so sorry! i just could not find a way to write it without it being exactly the same as kenma's!

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / forbidden, established relationship / manager!reader / vocal!suna / whiny!suna / needy!suna / bratty!suna / liiiight mommy kink nobody freak tf out!! / suna has a cute laugh / creampie / raw cuddly sex / 1.9k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. my imagines. my request box

"Don't look at me like that, Rin'."

Your fingers were smushing the lower half of his face, angling his head away from you. His head stayed obediently forward at the center court, but those eyes were still piercing through you.

Through his fishy-lips, his words became jumbled together, "'can' helb i'--,"

It wasn't his fault he looked so mean, so critical when he focused in on something.

"I can't help it," He spat, rubbing his jaw.

Suna wasn't careful about his hand placement. The members of Inarizaki knew you had been dating for a time, but Coach Kurosu did not need a reason to question your managerial position.

When you pushed his hand away from your waist, his face scrunched; that mean and bitter look returned, tenfold.

A frustrated, hushed, but not quiet, "I want you."

Though it wasn't an appropriate time, place, or circumstance, it would be lie to say that it wasn't hot. The unique mixture of his assertive, court-like focus and lesser-known bedroom-only begging forced you to cross your arms.

"You-," You glanced around, thankful nobody heard that, "Have a game to focus on."

The attitude he gave was not only unwarranted, but it succeeded in making you less receptive. To you, it was obvious that he was only looking for an out. He was tired and halfway through a challenging match. You couldn't spare to be his partner right now, and he did not like that.

He sucked his teeth, tapped his foot, crossed his arms, worked his jaw, and gave you a sharp sigh, all within five minutes of angry silence.

What a whiny bastard.

You found his struggle almost amusing. At the moment, it was more important to maintain your focus, for the both of you.

Still, it kept you wondering throughout the remainder of the match: What had you possibly done to warrant such a strong response?

Every instance that he had to be around the bench, drinking water, a temporary switch-out, he would send you a deeply dissatisfied glance. You didn't justify it with a reaction. He was being bratty.

Though you were a prude, anti-PDA personality in public, especially around the team-- you were the one to push him back onto the mattress and throw his shirt across the room, once you were back at his place.

"Fuck--mnh!"

That pretty sigh was all he could get out before you were on top of him.

"Start talking," You muttered. Your shirt was off in seconds.

His breathing grew heavy, eyes black with lust at the sight of your pretty skin, his favorite bra he clocked earlier under your shirt- the whole reason his mind got to spinning.

Suna was kept this irritating, calculating, slithery persona up around his friends, and especially during matches, because he learned that it kept him safe. He didn't always like being so on edge. He wanted to trust somebody enough to tell them everything that passed through his mind, to be skin-to-skin and a little weird, because you were comfortable and safe.

Here, under you, after enough love and time, he knew he didn't need to waste energy on appearances.

"I- ah-h, I just wanted you so bad," Was his honest attempt at an explanation.

He sat up to touch you, kiss you, but you kept him to the sheets with a forearm.

"Are you trying to get me kicked out?"

Suna huffed, eyes bouncing from your face, to your confined tits, then back, "What?""

Your legs slid a bit further apart, weight settling better onto his warm lap, "If Coach finds out we're dating, you know I'm gone."

You snapped, just for emphasis, but he flinched, "Like that. In an instant."

He was painfully hard. You could feel him throbbing, even through his combo of athletic shorts and thick sweatpants. Despite the circumstances, you knew he was keen enough to understand that you were a little pissed off about his lack of restraint.

He was in that spot you liked seeing him work through. Struggling, deciding whether to be nice, or snarky.

"You're smarter than that, baby," Was much kinder of a statement in tone, but it tipped him off to be rude, instead.

Those narrowed eyes dripped down to your chest slow, sweet, like honey.

"Why'd you wear that, then?" He felt you stiffen. He placed a hot palm onto your hip to help his well-intentioned venom settle.

You couldn't believe that was his entire problem, summed up in five words.

"Are you really so dirty-minded that you could tell what bra I was wearing? Under my shirt?"

The call-out was meant to return his energy, but he responded in a more secure way than you.

"When it's you, yeah--," He sat up with ease, against your pushing, just to remind you that he could outclass your force if he wanted to. He caught your small frown and he corrected himself, "Yes, ma'am."

You gave a small hum, a low-lidded stare right back at him. He was so hot when he deferred to you.

It warranted a strong, messy kiss- all charged with hours of denial, suggestive glances, and too many minutes of clothed rubbing.

All your clothes came off in a range of easy to difficult, distracted efforts.

Suna lay under you, all flushed and twitchy with anticipation. Your hands flitted down his sensitive, strong sides, his cock crammed between your legs, getting spoiled and slick. Not inside, not just yet.

You loved tickling him just to hear his laugh.

And he'd tolerate anything with you gliding over his dick, like that. Giving him such a good view.

"Shhh-haha-h-ahh!" He bit his lip to keep from giggling, moaning, too much or too loudly.

That look he gave you was enough. All twisted, pleading, intelligent. Like he knew exactly what he said and how he said it, would get you turned on.

His sound was adorable, rare.

It was unrestrained, and light, cute, enough to understand why he kept it behind his hand around his friends. Sounded exactly like something a bunch of guys might make fun of him for.

"Hmm.. Let's cuddle fuck," You pressed a tingly kiss just under his ear.

You knew he was feeling lazy. Your job today wasn't easy, either. You wanted to feel close at the end of a busy day, more than anything.

Suna was warm, and tired, and tacky to the touch but it all added to how badly you wanted each other. It was a demanding match, and getting all upset with each other made it feel that much longer.

Slick, and hot, and easy was the adjustment to him. Nothing to do with his real size- you were just ready, after having to put up an act, as if you were too above all of it.

The panting you had to listen to on the sidelines, watching him miss his mouth with the squeezy bottle, all the sweat and water dripping onto his jersey, it ate at you, corroded the brick walls you put up. Even his frustrated glare was sexy. He couldn't stop looking at you, even with an important task at hand, or when his teammates needed him to focus.

Now he fucked you like your mean -still, justified- rejection was never a problem, like he was savoring you slowly.

"Yes-yes, yesyes," Suna swallowed up your moans in a greedy kiss.

"Mmh- how's that feel--?" You purred.

"So good," A satisfied groan, "Fuck- Got such a perfect pussy."

His hand kept your thigh up, your knee close to your shoulder. He inspired a gasp at how quickly he bottomed out to your teasing.

He stretched you so good, so easily, and kept your trembling steady in his grasp-- but every sound he made was shaky, barely held together, and never masked.

After three months, Suna decided at some point on his own that he could trust you enough to completely let go in the bedroom. Though he naturally gravitated to a more submissive role, he usually said some downright sleazy, vulgar shit to get his kicks.

"A-ha, h-fuc-k, aughh, you feel so good, you--," His breath clipped into a high, closed-mouth whine as he pulled you harder onto the base of his cock, just flexing hard, as deep as he could get.

Your teeth sunk into his pillowcase, fingers filled with plush.

The knowledge that he loved it, but couldn't ever get as deep as he wanted, had your strength waning. Squeezing, bracing, at all the butterflies tired you out.

Although, if it were a competition, Suna had you beat by a mile. The drooling, whiny mess behind you may have had enough to strength to use his body weight to keep you smushed, but you could tell he was sloppier, clumsier, with exhaustion.

He buried his face in your neck.

"I-I'h- needed you so bad," His moan was so light and breathy- like he was swimming on Cloud 9-, "So-h, so... fucking...bad."

Your uncontrollable squirm to get away from the sensation was met with instant crushing. Even if you wanted your thigh back, it would never happen.

"Mh-h-! Rin-," You tried to speak, but he was hitting all your angles just right, so you stopped.

His words were twisting up that knot in your tummy, the trap of his arms a steady, innocent backdrop to how filthy he decided to fuck you.

Slurred mutters, consisting of mostly nonsense syllables and phrases, sometimes bred real messages like, "So hot," "Mommy," "So much," and, "'Can't take it."

His yapping, you thought, may have been a way of making up for how little he spoke, usually. You were generally much quieter than him here, but outside of the bedroom, the opposite remained true. It was cute.

"M'so- close-mh," His groans were short, choked on pleasure, his squeezing desperate and uneven.

The idea of him finishing close, hugging you, just like this, was too hot to let not happen.

You gathered yourself to tell him, "C-um-- Mh, inside, pretty boy."

"F-uck!" That tone completely tipped him over the edge.

Your grin was to yourself, twitchy and genuine, before the feeling of fullness set in.

He was left to fuck out his load as deep inside of you as he could get, "Fuckfu-ck- Ahh-hh-!"

Your nails dragged across his skin- the white hot, pulsing enough to spur a sudden orgasm. Dark lines remained in their wake as your muffled whines filled his ears.

And Suna was nothing if not dedicated. He fucked you as well as he could through your own, whinier, less violent experience. His breath, laden in the resolution of his own, was hot and tingly across your sensitive ear.

You squeezed his arm to stop and he finally let your leg down.

"Hm...sorry," He mumbled into a peck against your cheek, "You okay?"

Sore, and achy, you shared a giggly kiss. He softened naturally and you readjusted to hold each other, warm and soft, with chemical infatuation.

"Mhmm," You stole a longer, slower kiss.

Those pretty eyes watched you, worshipped you, as you rubbed your hand across his jaw.

"Perfect."

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

my masterlist. more haikyuu my request box

[isaisliterallyhim]

hey can you please write about reader giving nagi a handjob while he's playing but as revenge because he's been ignoring reader for his games so reader doesn't let him cum unless he wins the round but he can't focus on the game because of the pleasure he's feeling!! hoping for a kinda subby nagi if that's alright <3

YES YES OMG ANON BBY I SEE IT AHJWJSAJ delicious plot hehe!

"i'm about to show you, baby slow down!"

ft. nagi seishiro . ooc! nagi ? . somewhat sub! nagi heh . aged up! characters . established-relationships . fem! reader . nsfw . smut . handjobs . cockwarming in the end ? . nagi's kinda a dick rn . use of mommy ig... . unreliable narrator.. :^

wc: 0.5k

cw: this might be dub-con idk tho

"my girlfriend's always harassing me whenever i'm tryna play a game.. what a hassle," nagi started off. his friends giggled on vc. "she's a nice person, you'll get used to it."

a few rounds of horror games, nagi was carrying hard. (heh hard like him :x) horror games were yea, a hassle. but, not a hassle to him. unlike his friends, nagi didn't really scream. shit, he was so lazy he didn't even wanna be fazed.

this round in particular though... "g-good god..." the man whined, spasming a little. "you good, nagi?" bachira asked. "is the horror finally getting to you?" your softer, smaller hands pumping at his cock :p

it started off slow, nagi didn't really notice at first. slow and steady wins the race right? but after a few more minutes of getting ignored, you fastened the pace.

you locked eyes with nagi. your lips curling into a smirk. "sei, what're your friends g'na think when they realize that when you're receiving a handjob with little to no lubrication at all?" you began. "your cock was leaking so much pre — it was like you wanted me to do this!" you continued to yap, face now no longer in a cocky demeanor but, in a pouty expression now.

"[n-name]," the grey eyed man moaned out. your expression, your hands... the stimulation was getting to him. "w-wait guys- oooh..." nagi tried to get out, his voice now strained. "nagi, you weren't even screaming are you good?" isagi asked. screaming? nah this guy was CREAMING.

"y-yep, i'm good," he stuttered out. "i jus' need a few minutes off real qui.." his voice trailed off as he muted himself. his hand released the mouse as his calloused fingers wrapped around your hand. nagi began thrusting into your hand.

his shaft was absolutely tearing up, just like the man. tears leaked from his eyes while there was a bit of semen leaking out of his tip LOL.

"[name], s-slow down.. [name], i-i.." he couldn't even get the words out as he scrunched his eye shut. "sei, yknow you dont deserve this at all.. all you've done was ignore me n shit this whole week..." you frowned. nagi knew he was coming close, hell he WAS going to come.

"i'm sorry mommy, i didn' mean t'- god! please, i'm sorry!" he apologized. the stimulation actually got to nagi as he came. his precious n delicious come leaked out as he let out the most gorgeous moan you've ever heard during the whole time you two were together.

your eyes kinda widened. nagi had this flushed, fucked out expression. he was panting like crazy. "[name], i'm so sorry.." he sobbed.

"what happened to emotions being a hassle, seishiro?" you teased. his sweatpants n boxers were to his knees LOL. nagi slid down your shorts n panties. "please let me feel your warm cunt, ma'am.. please use me f' your pleasure, pretty.." nagi mumbled. most genuine mumble omd...

"my bad guys, i'm back." nagi grunted after unmuting. nagi had a little bit of struggle seeing the PC screen with his gorgeous partner's warm n tight walls clenching against his shaft. let's just say, nagi wasn't the best player after LOL.

— ©isaisliterallyhim, 2025

tags! : @twijaxx ♡, @kyvkc

a/n : errr... idk man i came back from training w my corps i j wrote this and threw it .. kinda late night post so uhwhhdaj sorry for the unreadabler englush i tried ok ygs i j went thru a breakup pls give me credit for trying. nyways, nagi ohf wakkk hes so hot omg.. i need that 190 cm man in me omgmgmjddkkwjd anyhow i hope ygs enjoyed hehe

[ippipo]

self aware caleb

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | smutty stuff | part 4 | part 5

it was merely sexual attraction. from the moment he saw you, he felt attracted towards you sexually. you were funny, witty, so you, and god, it hurt. he swore it was just sexual attraction.

it was a sick obsession. a throwback to his in-game personality that made him easily vulnerable to these situations. he just wanted to keep you with him all the time. but good lord, did it hurt him when you were down. he hurts for you. but he kept telling himself that it was just obsession, infatuation at least.

but the more he spoke with you, the realisation dawned upon him that he was down bad. you haunt him every night before he goes to sleep and bless him like food in famine every morning he wakes up. it was addicting. he wanted all of you and every part of you.

and it truly, absolutely, devastatingly hit him when his desire to be next to you increased tenfold. he needed you so much, it made him want to curl up into a box small enough to suffocate him and take him away from all the pain he was enduring being away from you.

so he decided to risk it all and come to you. he didn't realize he needed you that badly until that one moment when you were talking to him as usual, laughing by yourself while reminiscing something funny from your childhood. and during that time, a question popped up that made him wonder.

"you can't come here right? does that mean you'll go back to mc if this thing, you know, stops?"

and the answer was as clear as day.

he should.

but not a single inch of him wanted to. he only wanted to be with you. when all your life has been dedicated to loving someone against natural will, it crumbles in mere seconds when you find out it wasn't meant to be. and during that period of feeling inadvertently lost when you find someone who gives you a sense of self and structure to your meaningless life, you cling onto them.

you cling so tightly that the mere thought of finding someone else or going back to the life you used to have seems more scrambled than you'd expect. to caleb, it felt like a million puzzle pieces had been scattered everywhere and when he realized your existence, everything fell back into place.

but when he did try going back to his life, skyhaven, mc, and every other thing related to his past, it felt like something had ruthlessly ruined his puzzle, throwing around all the pieces left and right so he could never rearrange them.

this uncomfortable reality of his prompted him to escape, pull every string that he could and fight against the odds of time and space to reach you. it wasn't easy at all, but he knew it was worth it.

he watches as you laugh with your friend and sylus, and he wishes it was him in their place. the dull ache in his chest lingers as he notices how your phone remained untouched throughout the night, contemplating whether to text you or not.

the ache began spreading like wildfire the more he waited. and he decided it was time to stop stalling.

kale 🥬

go to your room

you spring up from your seat when you hear the sound of a notification, not expecting it so late at night. you look at andy who was passed out, and sylus was no longer visible on the screen.

your heart drops when you read the name of the sender, but it wasn't the time to wallow anymore.

you

what the fuck?

where have you been?

why are you texting me now?

you couldn't help the way your hands were shivering as you type. "what is wrong with you, caleb?" you whisper to yourself as your eyes well up again.

kale 🥬

im sorry ill answer everything but js go to your room please

you

fine

and you get up to leave the living room, ignoring the way your heart was pounding against your chest and a lump in your throat that made it difficult to breathe.

"hey," an eerily familiar voice greets you in the dark. you look around frantically only to see nothing but pitch black.

you flinch when a hand grabs you by the shoulder and pulls you close to a body. a tall, lean, muscular body. you could feel his chest, a husky vanilla cologne filling your senses, overwhelming you and making you sensitive to everything around.

you try not to scream, and you didn't. everything felt oddly alright. nothing out of place, as if you were expecting it already, expecting someone already.

"did you miss me?" the damning voice whispers so close to your ear, sending a chill down your spine and straight to your core, arousal pooling. but at the same time, your body screamed to react violently, make it known that you were upset and angry.

and so, you turn around to face him, and push him by the chest. "what the fuck, caleb?!" you whisper-yell. he didn't budge at all, and your fingers lingered over his chest a little longer than you intended them to, but this was not the time to feel horny because you were freaking out.

you close the door behind you and everything becomes even darker. you locate yourself in front of him and grab his collar. "tell me what's happening. why are you here—no, how are you here? d-do you know how long i've waited for you to talk to me? not even a single text from you for so fucking long," you couldn't stop your voice from quivering as you punch his chest in anger, not impactful enough apparently with how he didn't wince at all.

he brings his hand towards your face to caress your cheek but you slap it away. "don't fucking touch me."

you gasp when you realise what you had just said, hands retracting to your sides. the pained look in his eyes made it so very clear. "i'm sorry, i-i didn't mean that," you quickly try to explain. nevertheless, he shoots a sad smile towards you and caresses your cheek. the warmth in his touch makes you lean towards his hand, closing your eyes to consume the sensation unconsciously.

caleb watches as you make yourself home in his touch, blushing at the hazy look on your face. 'control, control, control,' he tells himself, not wanting to take you then and there right in that moment while you were vulnerable. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to.......leave you. it took longer than i expected to figure out the way to reach your world," he finally gives you the explanation you wanted.

"is that why you couldn't talk to me at all?" your voice carried a kind of distress that made it very evident that you suffered in his absence.

caleb nods, making you sigh. "and here i thought you no longer wanted me."

he slides his arm around your waist and pulls you closer towards him gently. his thumb drew circles on your side. his other arms reaches out to your face and his fingers brush your hair behind your ear. though you couldn't see him properly, except that he was pale as fuck and practically a glow stick in the dark, you could make out his smile.

"i've waited for so long to hold you like this," he whispers softly. he could only wish that you didn't hear the way his heart was hammering against his ribcage as you snuggled into him. "mhm, me too," you mumble as you rest your head on his shoulder.

you flinch when you hear caleb wince as your hand slides around the back of his waist. curious, you let your hand wander around that area once more and you don't ignore how his body tenses up. choosing to not comment on it since you just met for the first time, you let it be for now. but you weren't going to let it go until you receive an answer.

[byhees]

surprising them during long-distance

heeseung would be surprised beyond words; would drop whatever he’s doing, hands frozen mid-air. wouldn’t dare to waste another living, breathing second, in fear that he may be dreaming— “i missed you so, so much”, he’d mumble, arms wrapped tightly around your figure, as though apprehensive to let you go…

jay would immediately rush over to pick you up in his arms, his hands holding you steady as he gently spins you around in his grasp; “please tell me i’m not imagining you in front of me”, he’d mumble, voice lightly muffled as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, taking in the faint scent of your shampoo, mixed with the warmth radiating off your body— all signs that tell him, he’s definitely not just imagining things…

jake would be absolutely gobsmacked to see you, his pretty girl, perched right by the edge of his bed, that smile decorating your features knocking the wind out of his body; doesn’t hesitate to engulf you in a tight hug, his arms wrapping around your form, his chin resting atop your head— “you don’t know just how much i’ve missed this, baby”…

sunghoon would pause mid-stride, his pretty eyes slowly widening into large saucers, his plump lips parted ever so slowly; “yn..?” he’d mumble, and when you’d laugh ever so softly at his reaction, he wouldn’t waste another moment, crashing into your embrace, his face buried into the hem of your shirt— “ please don’t let go”, he’d murmur, arms tightly nestled around your waist…

sunoo would be shocked beyond belief, his mouth immediately being rendered agape at the sight; “oh my.. baby, you’re here? when? how?”— would bombard you with a million questions, all the while basking in your presence, an arm naturally snaking around your form. he’d have this cheery grin glued over his features…

jungwon wouldn’t believe his eyes; perhaps he’d missed you so much, he’s started to materialise his thoughts of you into reality? but when you’d run up to him, body almost melting into his warmth, your arms finding recluse around his build, all the confusion and flabbergast would dissipate into nothing, a wide-toothed smile decorating his pretty face. “you should’ve told me you were coming; i look like a mess”, he’d mumble, tone soft— if only he knew how endearing he looked, hair lightly tousled, face slightly puffy from a rough night of sleep…

riki would stand by the doorway, completely unaware of how to react; he’d be hit with a wave of emotions— puzzlement, disbelief, and last but not least, euphoria. would be, practically, attached to you by the hip, his body never tearing away from your own, his hands never not fiddling with your own; “no, please, keep going— tell me everything, every good, or bad, moment; just.. keep talking”, he’d mumble, finding your voice so much more relaxing in person…

[servantofthefates]

I have a huge problem with the Law of Attraction.

I use the term Law of Attraction a lot, because it’s the easiest way for me to convey to English speakers what I’m talking about.

But the law of attraction I believe in is not the same as the oversimplified version that the Western world is obsessed with.

According to them, our emotions dictate what we create. Whether good or bad, whatever happens in our life is something our emotions consciously or unconsciously made.

What then of children who were molested? Did their emotions somehow make that tragedy possible? What of people who were brutally violated and killed? Were they secretly wishing for it?

Their version, tied to the New Thought movement, only works for privileged people. Those who cannot even afford three meals a day cannot simply believe in their dreams, for the skies to open up and shower them with a college education and a brand-new Tesla.

This movement’s Bible, The Secret, also demands that you feel and stay happy every second of every day, because the world needs your joy. So how about someone who just got run over by a bus? Or somebody who was just diagnosed with a terminal illness? Should they smile 24/7 too?

To convey the version of the Law of Attraction that I believe in, I must share another philosophy from another part of the world.

Chinese metaphysics says there are three kinds of luck: heaven luck, earth luck and human luck.

Heaven luck is your fate. Your destiny. What the gods have planned for you, or what your soul agreed to accomplish in this life. It cannot be changed… for the most part. Earth luck is your environment. Whether the place you’re in is conducive for who you want to be. Is your home a sanctuary or a battlefield? Are you in the right job or not? Do the people around you support or belittle you? Human luck is your actions. Your choices. This is where my law of attraction comes in. Do you speak kindly to yourself? Do you think as positively as you can? Do you believe with every fiber of your being that you can achieve your dreams?

Your human luck is in your hands. It is how you manifest. It is how you lead a life that makes your younger self proud and your older self grateful.

But when shit happens, you mustn’t blame yourself. If a malicious person harms you, or if tragedy strikes out of the blue... that’s not your fault.

You did not attract that. You did not make that happen. You did not create your own pain. That is a result of the other two kinds of luck just doing their thing. That's life. Even Mother Earth knows it can't be summer all year long.

However, when you actively and consistently try to strengthen your human luck, it can influence your heaven luck and earth luck too. They could bend to your will if you can convince them. That is the law of attraction I believe in and speak about.

It's a long journey for us to be able to make that happen. So if you cannot do it just yet… go easy on yourself.

Keep trying. You'll get there.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing your Character's "Inner Critic"

Inner Critic - a mental inner voice that criticizes and judges your actions, thoughts, and behaviors.

In the early 20th century, psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud referred to it as the “superego,” and it’s been a constant source of study ever since.

Learning to address the excesses of your critical inner voice is an important element of self-care and holistic well-being.

Popular psychology movements of today—like cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) and acceptance and commitment therapy (ACT)—assist individuals with reframing their inner critic’s negative thought processes.

Negative Thoughts From Your Inner Critic

Assessing your mental health means knowing when your inner critic is doing nothing but harm. Examples of an inner voice that engages in self-destructive behaviors:

Dwelling on the past: If you regularly beat yourself up for past mistakes and regrets about life experiences, recognize that many of these thoughts are self-defeating. Your inner critic draws on memories like this to keep you incapable of growing in the present moment.

Focusing on shortcomings: Your inner critic might be a perfectionist—holding you to impossibly high standards—or just constantly echo your deepest insecurities. If you think of yourself in the second person a lot—”you’re not good enough,” “you’ll never succeed,” and so on—you might be under the thumb of your inner critic.

Worrying about the future: You might constantly think that you’ll inevitably say or do something to destroy your future prospects. Your inner critic might insist bad things are inevitable and that you should always stay in your comfort zone since you’re bound to mess things up if you color outside the lines. Heeding these judgmental demands will limit your ability to grow and enjoy all life has to offer.

Ways Meditation Helps Counter the Inner Critic

Slowing down and centering your mind can help you combat the critical inner voice in your head. Here are just five ways meditation can help you:

Empowers you with positive affirmations: Through certain types of meditation—like metta or the “lovingkindness practice”—you can use upbuilding and compassionate thoughts and mantras to anchor your sense of self-compassion and combat the worst urges of your inner critic. These affirmations help reorient your mind in a positive direction holistically.

Enables you to recognize impermanence: At the center of meditative practice is a recognition that the present moment is ever fleeting. As soon as you pay attention to one breath, your mind whisks away to some stray thought. The more you do this—always returning to the subject of meditative focus—the more you’ll see your mind divert to your inner critic’s viewpoint. It’ll become obvious as you continue to meditate that it’s just one point of view among many—and you can pay attention to its demands or ignore it just the same.

Encourages you to determine what’s of value: Not all self-criticism is bad. You should discard needlessly negative thoughts, but you can turn the inner critic into one of your best friends if you tame its voice. The equanimity brought on through meditation helps you see when a critical thought can be constructive or when you should ignore it for being untrue and damaging.

Gives you an opportunity to practice compassion: A mindfulness practice allows you to see yourself from the outside looking in—and this experience often brings about a sense of self-compassion. As you meditate, you can see and feel the damage the inner critic is doing to you from an objective standpoint. This can lead you to treat yourself more kindly and, as a result, treat others more kindly, too.

Helps you detach from your ego: Meditation allows you to reorient your sense of self-esteem away from the attachments of your ego. By distancing yourself from your ego (or “I, me, mine” thoughts) in general, you also distance yourself and even silence your inner critic. Although it might sound contradictory, thinking less about yourself, in general, can significantly boost self-confidence overall.

At its best, the inner critic is one voice among many—and you can take it or leave it.

If you can sift through these self-critical thoughts objectively and analytically, you can discover whether they’re valuable or merely detrimental and untrue.

The former can help you improve as a person; the latter will only bring you down.

At its worst, the inner critic can act as an intrusive, overpowering force—wracking you with unnecessary self-doubt and causing insecurity, depression, and anxiety.

Letting your inner critic run roughshod over you like this usually isn’t healthy.

Managing this facet of your inner dialogue can lead to positive personal growth possibilities, but left to its own devices, it can cause an overwhelming amount of negative self-talk and low self-esteem.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[rhiannonsknife]

could I put in a request for Lucy MacLean x Wasteland!reader? you both find shelter and you usually take first watch because you’re used to staying up late. Except Lucy has a habit of making your job harder than it has to be because she just starts yapping and won’t go to sleep right away. Take yesterday night for example, you underestimated her ability to run out of things to talk to you about and you lost about 2-3 hours of sleep because of it. Tonight, Lucy’s about 15 minutes into her yap session when you randomly ask her if she wants to have sex, she’s delighted at the idea and agrees. You wanna tire this woman out, what’s a more efficient method than giving her a few orgasms? (maybe even include this being Lucy’s first time being eaten out?)

── GUILTY PLEASURE

— summary: lucy won’t stop talking.

— warnings: kind of inexperienced!lucy. fem!reader. nsfw content. mdni. this took me a month to edit but here we are.

the shelter you’d stumbled upon earlier isn’t much. it’s hardly anything at all: half a roof, crumbling walls, and a faint musty smell.

still, it seemed better than sleeping under the open sky where god knows what could catch you off guard. so, you decide to settle yourself near the door, leaning against the wall with your weapon in easy reach. first watch, as always.

and, as always, lucy is making it harder than it needs to be.

she’s sprawled on her bedroll a few feet away, her head propped on her pack like a makeshift pillow. the dim glow of the dying embers between you throws flickering shadows across her face, as she talks.

“-and, i mean, who even puts that much trust in a filtration system, you know?” she says, her tone exasperated. “it’s like, sure, the overseers say it’ll last forever, but what happens when the pipes get clogged? no backup system, no-“

you pinch the bridge of your nose, cutting her off before she can spiral any further into whatever story she’s telling you from her life in vault 33. “lucy-“

“what?”

“i thought we agreed you’d try to sleep during my watch!”

“we did,” she says, shifting to rest on her elbows now . never a good sign. “but you’re awake anyway, so it’s not like i’m interrupting anything. besides, you’re terrible at keeping yourself entertained. i’m doing you a favor!”

you give her a flat look. “i don’t need ‘to be entertained’. i need quiet!”

lucy scoffs. “quiet seems overrated. besides, what if something sneaks up on you? you’ll want me awake to watch your back.”

“that’s literally my job right now,” you deadpan, gesturing toward what once was a door.

“okay, fair,” she says with a shrug. “but what if you fall asleep? then we’re both screwed!”

you let your head fall back against the wall with a soft thud, staring at the cracked ceiling. “lucy, if i fall asleep, it’ll be because you spent all night talking about pipes and filtration systems instead of letting me do my job and i’ve bored myself to death!”

“i’m just saying, vault-tec could’ve planned better” lucy goes on after a short pause, like you’ve never asked her to stop at all. “like, one person on maintenance for an entire level? no wonder the water tasted weird that day!”

this has been your dynamic ever since you met her: lucy talking your ear off, filling the silence with anything and everything that comes to her mind.

“do you ever stop?” you ask, arching an eyebrow at her.

“not really,” lucy says, grinning. “another thing,” she leans forward slightly. “i get why you’re all about this ‘quiet’ thing, but maybe you’d actually enjoy these little watch shifts if you talked more. or, you know, let me help you stay awake!”

you scoff. “help me stay awake?”

“yeah,” she says. “like conversations, or games, or- i don’t know, literally anything but sitting there staring into the darkness like some broody protagonist in a bad holotape!”

“you’re unbelievable.” you laugh, despite yourself.

she beams, triumphant, and leans back again, her hands clasped behind her head. “you’re welcome.”

the wasteland beyond the door feels vast and empty, the moonlight barely illuminating the cracked ground and jagged ruins. you focus on the shadows, your grip tightening slightly on your rifle. lucy’s voice continues behind you, her words blending into the ambient hum of the night.

another ten minutes of this pass, your patience wearing thinner with every syllable; your initial plan to just wait for her to get sleepy doesn’t seem to be working.

“if i had been in charge of the vault party planning committee, there’s no way they would’ve run out that fast” she’s currently recalling. “it’s simple logistics. one crate for every-“

“lucy,” you interject, your voice flat.

“what?”

“are you ever going to go to sleep?”

“eventually,” she says with a shrug. “it’s not like i’m bothering you, right?”

you sigh, defeated. “you are absolutely bothering me,”

she ignores that completely, her tone turning thoughtful. “it’s kinda nice, though, isn’t it? i talk, you listen, we bond. i mean, sure, you don’t say much, but that’s probably because you’re so fascinated by what i have to say-“

“lucy…”

“-which i get! not everyone grew up in a vault, so my perspective is pretty-“

“lucy!”

she finally pauses. “yes?”

you turn fully, leaning your shoulder against the wall as you cross your arms. “do you want to have sex?”

the words hang in the air for a beat, and for once, lucy falls completely silent. you watch as her face cycles through surprise, confusion, and delight in rapid succession.

“wait, what?” she asks, already sitting up. “do i- are you serious?”

you shrug, trying to look nonchalant despite the heat creeping up your neck. “you’re not gonna sleep, and you’re definitely not gonna let me do my thing. i figure if i wear you out, i might actually get some peace and quiet tonight,”

lucy blinks at you, and then, once you’re fairly sure she will turn the insane offer down, she grins.

you‘ve thought about it before. not about sex, necessarily, but tamer things: you found yourself staring at lucy in the rare moments when she wasn’t chatting away, eyes studying her features whenever she hadn’t been looking your way. you thought about kissing her, too, about her body against yours and-

well, perhaps you had thought about sex with her.

you never figured out what vault dwellers like her learned about sex down there. only that, presumably, she does seem to know what you’re on about, judging by her enthusiasm.

“this is the best thing you’ve suggested so far,” she says, already tossing aside her blanket and crossing the small room to stand beside you.

lucy lingers above you for a moment, her eyes scanning over you as if weighing her next move. she takes her time. when she finally lowers herself into your lap, it’s with purpose, every movement measured. her weight presses into your thighs, grounding you in place, while her palms rest on your shoulders. lucy’s thumbs gently trace circles on your skin through your clothes as her eyes search yours.

to your surprise, you are the first to falter under her gaze, something lucy so clearly relishes. a satisfied glint flickers in her eyes just before her hands glide up, fingers curling around your jaw as she cups your face. without warning, she tilts your head back, guiding your gaze to hers again, brushing absently over the corner of your lips.

“don’t look away now,” she murmurs, a teasing rasp, her breath ghosting over your skin.

her thumb and forefinger catch your chin, holding it firmly as she hovers there, close, her lips parting ever so slightly as if to speak.

just when you think you can’t stand it any longer, lucy finally leans in.

her lips meet yours, soft at first, almost tentative, like she's waiting for some kind of reaction. she grazes the sides of your face, memorizing the feel of you beneath her touch. the kiss deepens quickly, the tension from earlier bleeding away into something much softer, more urgent.

her confidence only falters when she first tries to grind down against your pelvis, searching for a friction you cannot provide. you’re not sure what she had expected, or if she’s moving on instinct, but this is when it seems to sink in that lucy is in no position to fully take the lead here.

“are you a virgin?” you blurt at her puzzled expression.

“no!” lucy says, shaking her head. “no, it’s not- i got married remember…?” she grimaces, recalling the events that had followed her rather short lived ‘marriage’ in vault 33.

“okay, so…” you start. “what’s going on here, then?”

“i-” her gaze flicks between you and some point over your shoulder. her cheeks flush. “i just- well, you know, it’s not that different, right?”

“lucy…” your voice softens, even as you fight back a laugh. “do you actually know what you’re doing?”

“yes!” she says immediately, too quickly. then she hesitates. “well…sort of?”

you give her a look, and her face crumples into a sheepish grimace.“okay, fine, no,” lucy admits, throwing her hands up in defeat. “but i wasn’t going to say that out loud! i thought i could just…figure it out as we went.”

you sigh, though there’s no real annoyance in it. “you’ve been with someone before. why didn’t you-”

“because it’s different!” she interrupts, her voice rising again. “i mean, for one thing, he wasn’t…” she waves her hand vaguely in your direction, her words trailing off like she’s afraid to finish the thought.

“a woman?” you supply.

“yes, exactly,” lucy nods. then, as if to clarify: “not that that’s bad! it’s just- i don’t really know what i’m supposed to- how i’m supposed to…” her voice fades again, and she presses her lips together, clearly frustrated with herself.

“lucy,” you say gently, drawing her attention back to you. “it’s not something you’re supposed to just know. especially if…” you pause, hesitant to touch on something that might sting. “especially if it wasn’t…encouraged where you grew up,”

she frowns, her brows pulling together. “yeah, well, vault 33 wasn’t exactly a…bastion of sexual enlightenment! marriage, reproduction, carrying on the bloodline…i suppose it was always about the next generation, never about- this!”

lucy sighs.

“and, look,” her words come in a rush now, like she’s determined to explain everything before you can judge her. “it’s not like i have a problem with it! i mean, clearly, i don’t, because we’re, uh, doing…whatever this is. i just…i guess i thought it’d be easier to figure out!”

you reach up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. all your previous annoyance has melted away, replaced by a need to show her that this -sex- could be about so much more than just reproduction. “you don’t have to figure it out all at once, you know. we’ve got time!”

lucy’s gaze meets yours, hesitant but hopeful. “we do?”

“yeah,” you say softly, your fingers lingering against her cheek. “you don’t have to take the lead here, either. just…trust me, okay?”

“okay,” she says quietly. “okay, i trust you,”

“good,” you lean up, brushing your lips against hers, slow and careful. her shoulders relax immediately, and when she kisses you back, it’s sweeter than before: less frantic, more curious, like she’s letting herself feel everything for the first time.

you kiss her slowly at first, moving your lips in sync with lucy’s. she’s following your lead now, letting you set the pace of your mouths. she still seems as eager though, and when she starts moving her hips again, you’re prepared:

instead of your pelvis, you maneuver her so that she’s grinding on your thigh, finally giving her access to the friction she’d been searching for.

“o-oh-“ lucy mewls softly, her head lulling back as she ruts against you for a little while. you can feel the warmth radiating from between her legs already, damp through the fabric of her suit.

taking it off will be a risk, of course: stripping naked would make a quick escape damn near impossible. but you decide that, as you feel her arousal drag over your leg, lucy maclean is worth every risky decision that might come with it.

so, as she moves against you, as high-pitched moans start spilling from her throat, you reach for the zipper of the blue suit. it parts smoothly, the soft scraping of the interlocking metal echoing in the otherwise quiet space.

you look up at lucy, only vaguely aware of the white bralette that comes into view now that you’re unzipping her clothes.

you don’t want to make her uncomfortable by blatantly staring but the skin that’s revealed to you makes it impossibly hard. so, instead, you choose another way to show off your appreciation: without tearing your eyes from hers, you lean in and press your mouth to the flesh between her collarbones, then move lower.

lucy gasps, her lips parted and her brows slightly furrowed. it’s her who peels the sleeves of her jumpsuit from her arms, who lets it pool by her hips and reaches for you all over again. who urges you closer by the back of your head with one hand, while the other grabs the hem of her underwear.

“wow,” you gasp, dumbfounded when lucy -your lucy- tugs the bra upwards enough to free her bare chest from the restrictive fabric. she smiles, shyly, and tilts her head.

her nails sink into your shoulder the second your mouth closes around her nipple; she’s responsive there, more than you ever were, more than you thought she’d be. so responsive that lucy starts moving her hips more frantic when you roll her other nipple between your index and thumb.

and still…”more,” she whines softly, greedily, dragging her soaked center across your flexed muscle. “i want you to touch me,” she breathes. “please”

you trail slow, open mouthed kisses down her torso, your hands gliding over the curve of her back. you press lower, as far as you can reach, until your neck twists at an almost painful angle and lucy's hand finds the back of your head, cradling it gently.

that’s when you shift, moving her body so she’s leaning against the wall and you’re positioned between her spread legs.

lucy watches you through curious eyes, studying your every move as you get to kiss down her body more comfortably. you hold the eye contact, despite the need to stare at her chest (her nipples still hard and wet with your spit) until you have to pull the zipper lower and peel the fabric from her legs.

you slide it off and tuck it beneath her, allowing lucy to rest on it rather than the dirty floor, leaving her in a pair of panties matching the white bralette.

lucy’s body shudders as you kiss back up the expanse of her legs, the muscles in her thighs tensing. obviously, you don’t stop there: you crawl up further and further until you’re almost at the apex, reaching for the waistline of the underwear and-

her legs clamp together suddenly, forcing you back.

“what-“ lucy stammers, unsure. “what are you doing?”

“i was gonna-“ you lick your lips, dropping your hands to her hips. of course lucy has no idea what you were going to do. “can i-“ you consider your words, unsure how to explain it so she’ll understand. “-put my mouth there?”

lucy’s eyes widen. “you want to-”

“please,” you whisper. “please, can i eat you out?”

lucy -her own want betraying her- whines, her hips jerking towards your mouth. from here, between her legs, you can see the wet patch of arousal that has soaked through her underwear.

“okay,” she pants, nodding frantically. “okay, yes. please!”

immediately, you reach out, hook your fingers underneath them and pull the panties down her thighs. you take your time making sure to securely place them in one of the suit’s pockets so they won’t get dirty, before finally turning your gaze back to lucy, who’s waiting in anticipation.

she lets you take in the sight with a nervous look on her face, biting the side of her index.

your fingertips absentmindedly trace the skin, watching the way lucy’s body parts for you. she is beautiful, endlessly beautiful, glistening with arousal, and framed by coarse hair.

“i’m sorry, i should’ve-“ she begins, but you immediately hush her.

“you’re beautiful,”

lucy inhales breathlessly, her fingers forming a v-shape and spreading herself open for you to see.

“fuck-“ you mutter under your breath. lucy’s clit is throbbing.

slowly, you make your way up her thigh. in response, lucy buries her fingers in your hair, sighs softly as she invites you in, and spreads her legs wider.

you nudge her skin with your nose, nipping on the tender flesh.

the first time you put your mouth on lucy, her legs close around your head. her jaw goes slack and her brows furrow in concentration, adjusting to the new sensation.

you start with featherlight kisses to her swollen clit, each making her buck her hips against your face.

“o-oh!” lucy stammers from above, looking almost confused, surprised by how good your lips feel as they brush over her. “that feels so good,” she breathes finally, her body rolling down against your tongue.

“yeah?” you murmur, soothingly wrapping your arms around her thighs to hold her open as you circle her clit with the tip of your tongue.

“mhm,” lucy nods, but it comes out more like a whine at a particular good press of your lips. just as lucy buries her fingers in your hair, seemingly wanting to push you closer, you push her apart and lick a broad stroke right through her, getting your first actual taste.

instinctively, your eyes roll back, the lewd moan that rips from your throat drowned out by her skin.

“g-god-“ she stutters. “that’s- ah- good.”

unbeknownst to lucy, the sweet praise goes straight to your center. if you had a pillow, or anything useful around, you’d shove it between your legs and grind on it while you eat her out.

but, regardless of your own lack of relief, her words encourage you to lick deeper, to move faster inside of her and show her all that she’s been missing out on. you alternate between fucking your tongue into her, and wrapping your lips around her clit to suck on it, all while lucy pulls your closer, guiding your tongue to where she needs it the most.

you gladly let her, ignoring the occasional sting of your scalp at sharper tugs.

for a while, you eat lucy out like that, getting lost in each of her desperate attempts to stifle her sighs and her taste in your mouth. her words have morphed into muffled babbles above you, incoherent sounds of pleasure.

it doesn’t take long at all until she is getting closer: her head has lulled back against her bag, her moans come out more ragged and breathless, and the leg she has thrown over your shoulder trembles with tension as she pushes her heel down on your spine to urge you closer.

instead of teasing lucy, you go right for it.

your lips close around her clit again, just as two of your fingers sink into her. squirming above you, lucy mindlessly grinds her hips to your face, aching for that release. she chants little ‘ah, ah, ah’ sounds, her cunt tightening around your fingers so much it’s hard for you to thrust them in and out of her.

both your nose and your chin are covered in lucy’s wetness, glistening in the dimly lit space as her hands curl to fists in your hair.

“i feel…” she begins, trailing off. you’re not sure she knows what she’s feeling. or maybe she’s in disbelief because you only have your hands and mouth to use on her and still it’s enough.

either way, you encourage her, putting your thumb in place of your lips, rubbing her clit with the wet pad of your finger to keep her on the edge. “that’s it,” you mumble.

lucy chokes on her noise of approval and just nods her head instead. “yes,” she whispers, over and over, like a prayer. “yes, yes, yes! i’m gonna-“

that’s all of a warning you get before her whole body tenses. her lips are parted in a silent scream, her hips jerk forward once more before it all comes crashing down on lucy. the sound she makes is somewhat between a cry and a moan of your name and she arches her back from the ground when she cums.

you manage to tear your gaze away from her convulsing cunt to catch a glimpse of her, so lost in the haze of her pleasure: lucy’s eyes are shut tightly, her head thrown back so much that the entire expanse of her neck is on display for you.

her walls tighten around your fingers, trying to suck you in deeper, to keep you in place while she trembles with the force of the orgasm she’s riding out on you.

only when her body has stopped shaking, you lean back, not wanting to push her too far. she’s already given you more than enough.

“phew,” lucy says once she’s caught her breath. it’s so ridiculously lucy you have to bite back a laugh. “is it- is it always like this?” she asks by the time you’ve crawled back up her body and slumped down by her side.

you reach for her, not even thinking about it properly until you’re already cradling her face, your thumb grazing over her jaw soothingly. lucy doesn’t seem to mind.

“no,” you manage quietly, taking in her features in the dark. “no, it’s never been like this.”

luct turns her head to look at you, her expression open. she’s still flushed, her hair mussed, her lips kiss-swollen, and she’s smiling.

“i liked it,” she says, voice hushed. then, as if realizing how simple that sounds, she rushes to clarify: “not just because of- well, you know…but because it was you!”

you swallow hard, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. “yeah?”

lucy nods, shifting so she’s curled against your side, her fingers idly tracing patterns against your arm. “yeah.” a beat passes, then: “i think i wanna do that again. like…a lot.”

you laugh outright at that, tilting your head to press a kiss to her temple. “you really are something else, maclean.”

she hums, pleased, before shifting closer, tucking herself against you like she belongs there. you don’t realize how quiet it’s gotten until lucy is fast asleep in your arms.

[beesgobzzzing]

From https://www.sverigesradio.se/avsnitt/hooja-kaarija-om-tanken-pa-att-tavla-i-eurovision

Translation / Transcript under the cut. This interview was really nice, I highly suggest you give it a listen even if you don't speak Swedish!

Hooja and Käärijä about the thought of competing in Eurovision

Interviewer (Carolina): What an exciting collaboration! Hooja together with Käärijä. [In English] I didn't see this one coming, I can tell you that. And I will start in Swedish, with you, Hooja. [In Swedish] How in the world did this end up happening?

Hooja: We're not as different as you could think. We've been saying that both of us are crazy, we definitely saw that in the studio when we met, because we had so unbelievably much fun when writing this song. So we… we really fit well together, both personalities and musically. Writing this song was a LOT of fun.

Carolina: Yeah, because… I mean… but HOW did you meet from the start so that this ended up happening?

Mårdis: At first we had been tittle-tattling in our camp about how it would be fun, because we see a lot of similarities in each other despite also being so dissimilar. And then they apparently had also been talking in THEIR camp as well, so it sort of came up in a roundabout way AGAIN that "he wants to make something with you". So we decided that we'll go down and do this, and we met up, and we had fun, and there was no pressure, no idea was bad, we were there for two days and just laughed. And that's what happens when you have fun, too, you make music from that, and that's how we got San Francisco Boy, our lovely child that we have together. [In English, to K] San Francisco Boy is our child that we have together.

Käärijä: Yes!

Carolina: A love child.

Käärijä: YES!! (Laughter)

Carolina: So, Käärijä, I must ask you, have you seen them without their masks?

Käärijä: Maybe I see more than only face…

Carolina: In the sauna..?

Käärijä: Maybe… (Even more laughter and something unintelligible about a mask)

Carolina: But it's so nice to see, because they just said, in Swedish, that when they were in the studio, they laughed so much. Was it the same for you?

Käärijä: Yes, yes. And, uh, I remember, first time, because you start to make like, the beats, and you played that song in Finland, to me, and I'm "uh, ok, this is… this is very funny and crazy and I feel good" when the boys played the song. And uh, then we start to try and do something and we get the song San Francisco Boy. And, uh… very, very good times and we get a lot of fun.

Carolina: [In Swedish] And the funny part is, San Francisco Boy, is in Swedish and English, but I'm thinking this - We have northern Sweden, we have Finland, and we end up with San Francisco Boy. (Laughter) Is there any hidden meaning with this?

Hooja: Why not? [In English] Why not? (Laughter) [In Swedish] We don't like doing the most obvious thing.

Carolina: No, no.

Hooja: No.

Carolina: But there is no hidden meaning in the song?

Hooja: No, I don't really think there is. What do you think? (To K and Mårdis)

Mårdis: If there's a message in the song, this is what we said when we started with the song - Disco Boy, San Francisco Boy, whatever you want to be, if you want to be Orange Boy or Finland Boy then you're allowed to be that. That was a thing that we really agree upon, that… It sounds cliche, you know, "you can be who you want to be", but we really think that. For real. And it's important to us. And that we could put that into a funny song, that just sort of happened, and it's nice.

Carolina: And now you're here at Melodifestivalen, and get a taste of… wait, get a feeling of what it's like being here. Have you considered Hooja in Melodifestivalen?

Hooja: Well… Never say never, we've gotten the question a few times and we've said no then, but you never know what the future holds! You don't want to say too much, you need to.. you need to watch your words.

Carolina: [In English] Käärijä help me here, I'm trying persuade them to do the Swedish Melodifestivalen.

Käärijä: I think the boys have to make öööh, to use what they want to do. Maybe… Maybe some day. For me, why I tried to go to Eurovision in 2023, we made the song Cha Cha Cha, and it's like the first demo, and I'm thinking, "okay, this is more than just only song, we can do something bigger" and one way how we can do something bigger, um, we can go to Eurovision, and uh, I watching a lot of Eurovision when I was young.

Mårdis: And if we want to go to Eurovision one day, we are very happy to have a Eurovision veteran with us, who can guide us through life.

Käärijä: Yes, I can be your manager. (Laughter)

Carolina: That is a brilliant idea! [In Swedish] We have this on tape now. [In English] We have it on record here.

Käärijä: Yes, yes!

Carolina: Now we come..

Käärijä: We have a plan, boys! Yes, let's go to studio. (Laughter)

Carolina: I will call the EBU immediately and say "Hi, I've got three guys who will SHAKE the Eurovision around". (Laughter) But I must also ask you, Käärijä, coming second after Loreen but winning the public vote… Are you still mad? Are people in Finland still mad at Sweden? [Bees note: The interviewer's tone of voice here is very genuine and almost… apologetic?]

Käärijä: I think that people in Finland, they are mad, but not really… I'm not. Of course I remember time after final where they give the points and I saw that Loreen get more points than me, I going to cry on toilet, but… (giggles) but yes, I'm ok and Loreen is amazing artist and person, human, I love Loreen. And after final, Loreen sent me the message to "Käärijä, if you need something…"

Hooja, breaking in: Except the price… (Laughter)

Käärijä: If you need money or something… (Laughter)

Mårdis: If you want to look at the price… (Laughter)

Käärijä: But yeah, good person and I… I'm not care any more, I'm ok (giggling)

Carolina: To wrap it up then, a final question I'm very curious about, will you proceed doing this (stumbles over words) [In Swedish] I'll just do it in Swedish - will the collaboration continue? [In English] Will you continue this collaboration?

Hooja: You never know! No but, uh, you do never know.

Mårdis: I think the thing with us, we only do things that are fun for us, it's the only thing we care about, that's what music is for us. If it's fun, we're going to do it, and we've had a lot of fun with this too, so I'm ending it just like Hooja, you never know! (Laughter)

Carolina: [In English] Ok, two diplomatic answers, that they had fun, Käärijä, the Finnish vote - this sounds like a dating show! - do you want to continue dating these boys?

Käärijä: You don't know yet! But I think, boys, you can't run away anymore, when you do work with Käärijä you stay with Käärijä. (Laughter) Oh yes, yes, yes (Laughter) But uh, yeah, I hope we do other songs and more songs, and uh, let's see!

Hooja: Yeah!

Carolina: Thank you very much! [In Swedish] Thank you so much, I'm crossing my fingers we get more from your collab in the future! (Collective "woo-hoo!")

[star-cats]

I was gonna put this in the tags but it was too long. There were several Incidents. I was mostly a good quiet kid but I got in trouble for the weirdest things. Mostly in elementary school.

It was the last day of first grade. My 2 friends and I were pretending to be cats which we did a lot for some reason. Friend 1 said her and I should pretend to get in a cat fight. Ok sure. So we were hissing at each other and flailing our hands around. (Friend 2 was just kinda standing there watching us.) I accidentally hit Friend 1 with my hand and left a small scratch on her skin. Friend 1 immediately started crying and went to the teacher. She said "[Birthname] scratched me on purpose!" and my heart sank. The teacher started yelling at me and I kept saying it was an accident and that I was sorry. But the teacher just kept yelling at me. She said if it wasn't the last day of school she would have suspended me. Then Friend 2 told the teacher that she saw the whole thing happen and it really was an accident. The teacher believed Friend 2 and thanked her for telling the truth. The teacher never apologized to me though. The situation was really odd because I never got in trouble with that teacher before and she was acting like I was horrible. "Friend" 1 hated me for the rest of elementary school. Ironically we were in the same class in 2nd grade and she bullied me that year. I tried to tell my 2nd grade teacher who didn't do anything to stop it. "Friend" 1 found out and called me a tattletale.

2nd grade: There were a couple of things actually. My 2nd grade teacher seemed to hate me because I was bad at math, so she got mad at me a lot. She was having us memorize our times tables and would give us multiplication worksheets that we had to finish in like 5 minutes. I wrote really slowly so I kept failing even though I knew the answers. I got into many arguments about this with the teacher, who concluded I just wasn't trying hard enough. She punished me by not letting me read in class, even during reading time. We were supposed to read like 2 books a week I think and the teacher was somehow shocked when I couldn't do that.

Later, this teacher thought I wasn't paying attention in class so she sat this girl next to me who was bullying me and told the bully to help me pay attention. The bully did this by hitting me with pencils and saying "pay attention!" I told the teacher about this but she didn't believe me.

I was sitting in the playground one day and was bored. There was a pile of small pebbles near me. I went to this empty dirt patch and tossed the pebbles into the dirt one at a time. The bully saw this and told the teacher I was "throwing boulders" and I got in trouble for this. My mom had to write a long letter to the teacher saying she explained that I shouldn't throw things and that I wouldn't do it again, and we both signed it.

Middle School: We had to wear uniforms and were supposed to tuck in our shirts. I got yelled at a few times for forgetting to tuck in my shirt.

I didn't personally get in trouble for this but some colors weren't allowed to be worn because they were "gang colors". A girl's backpack was confiscated because it was orange. My older sister wasn't allowed to wear a pink dress to a school dance. My mom asked the school how pink was a gang color and they said it was a shade of red, a common gang color.

High School: I was late to first period a lot because my school had a strict policy about it. The teachers were told to lock the door at exactly 7:35 am and if you were even a minute late you had to go to the cafeteria for in school detention. We had to sit there in silence for 15 minutes before going back to class. One time the staff member supervising this made us write a paragraph about why were were late. She looked at mine and said "That’s not a vaild reason to be late." and I just looked at her confused. I wrote why I was late, I'm not sure what she was expecting. I got detention after school once for being late too many times even though I was never more than 5 minutes late.

what's the most demented thing you guys got in trouble for in school mine was when an english boy in my class made fun of my name and called my mum a (derogatory word for irish travellers) so i told him my ira uncle was in town and was coming to blow him up after school

[thepoisonroom]

can i make a post about being irritated by antimaskers as a disabled person without annoying people trying to condescendingly explain accommodations for my disability to me! btw!