#bi's diary

[wutheringscreaming]

E-offering for Duke Vapula 🦁

Thank you for helping me achieve my goals. Thank you for standing by my side. Thank you.

[cocoreallylovesraiden]

Bi Han living with reader hcs

(bullet points and blurbs) THIS WAS FOR AN INBOX ASK BUT I DELETED IT NOOO SHAWTY IM SO SORRY!!! I HOPE DIVINE INTERVENTION SENDS YOU THIS POST TELEPATHICALLY UR A STAR!

-Unless it’s for marriage, you would only move in with him if it was a matter of your safety. 

-Otherwise he would just trust you to manage on your own since if you can handle him you can handle anything in the world 

-Let’s say during a moment of conflict where a large percentage of earthrealm was a risk, he would ask (more like order) you to stay with him with the Lin Kuei. 

-Going to his quarters is like walking into an expensive furniture store and being afraid to get your commoner hands on anything at all. 

-You are left to settle your meagre belongings yourself, with strict instructions not to wander into the training compounds without a guide (read: himself), and though there were the usual lin kuei members patrolling about, you still felt incredibly isolated. 

-But the feeling goes from loneliness to an almost childlike wonder. It eventually leads to you taking a museum tour around the place like DAMN! This is what rich people's shampoo looks like! It’s… not very used… which is a little gross. 

-He comes back from his duties and is surprised when you greet him! Not in a cute way, in the way that you have to dodge tree trunk arms being swung at you like baseball bats. 

-The time you spend together is very mundane. Any energy he has is used on the Lin Kuei, which is understandable and honestly preferable because you get to be around a SLIGHTLY less high-strung bi han

-That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the energy to be insufferably tungsten-like when it came to nighttime

It seemed as though he had long settled his belongings into the intricate bedside drawer. He had yet to answer your question, leaving you to wonder if it had been in bad taste. You nervously tilt your head, trying to get a better view of him. You see Bi Han’s broad back, blocking the blue moonlight in a way reminiscent of Batman standing above Gotham skylines. The thought makes you snicker, a sound that’s soft in theory but almost echoes in the deathly quiet room. It makes his tense shoulders jump to his ears, and you can see his dark eyes dart to the very corners as if trying to get a glimpse of you without physically turning around. He stays perfectly still, like if he just didn’t breathe he could melt into the fabric of the bedsheets. 

The realisation dawns upon you like a humouring punch to the gut. Was he nervous? The big, bad grandmaster of Lin Kuei, nervous to have his partner in his bed? You have to throw yourself to face the other way, hand covering your mouth like it was a hostage situation. Unfortunately, a few stray cackles manage to escape you and this time you hear Bi Han scoff out a ‘is there something funny?’ 

It’s uncharacteristically strained, like a defensive child having to explain their search history. My god, he was really thrown off-kilter by you! The unintentional ego boost goes straight to your head as you readjust yourself, using your elbow to prop yourself up in a position you could only hope came off as comedically seductive. The face you met with is priceless, a mixture of second-hand embarrassment and horror etched onto his sharp features. 

You let out a laugh that sounds more like a chicken squawking, one that’s unfortunately interrupted by a rock-hard grain pillow being hurled at your head. It lands perfectly, because Bi Han only ever does things perfectly, and the speed that you slump onto the bed has him wondering if he accidentally murdered the one person who tolerated him non-professionally. 

He barks out your name, and groans when he hears you laughing from under your potential murder weapon. It’s not as amusing to him as it is for you, seeing as by the time you’ve freed yourself he’s turned his back to you with the air of an unforgiving housewife. No matter how much you grovel and paw at his head and back he refuses to say anything, but you know he’s awake because he flinches whenever you poke his sides. 

Bi Han huffs like a guard dog when you stop pestering him (because common misconception, you did need to sleep as well) and right as you're drifting off to sleep you feel the bed shift, and the pleasant coolness of his body temperature a little closer. 

-He wakes up early in the mornings and I personally do not think this guy eats breakfast but he definitely drinks tea

-He wakes up early in the mornings and I personally do not think this guy eats breakfast but he definitely drinks tea

-You two can share the wonderful joy of standing shoulder to shoulder making your respective morning drinks and judging each other for it

-Bi Han have you considered that you are a cranky bat because you don’t have coffee in the morning 

-Haha. You are so Funny. Have you considered the fact that you are stuck in the bathroom for an hour in the morning because of it.

-Too far Bi han too far

-During his daily duties, like while he watches his little foot goons do their drills he sometimes spaces out and wonders what you are doing back in his quarters. 

-If he sees you walking around the compound, god forbid trying to get your 10k steps in he has to do a triple take, then storms towards you with the intention of an air strike. 

When he sees your familiar mop of head peek through the intricate pillars of the Lin Kuei compound, it’s like an alarm goes off in his head. Thankfully he had been alone, travelling from supervising two training grounds; so he has time to get to you personally. The way your face lights up almost qualms the lecture brewing in his mind, but then he remembers what happened the last time you were left alone with a room of his men (the lin kuei had never been so close to unionising. God fears the scorn of a charismatic woman.) 

“What did I tell you about leaving alone without a guide? I cannot have you wandering aimlessly like a lost child.” It’s a tirade that he’s gone through countless times, and it’s more of a custom than meaning any of the words. You also seem to know, with how you barely raise an eyebrow at his stern words. A cheeky smile carves your cheeks as you stick out an elbow, and even as he continues his rant he subconsciously goes to link your arms together. 

“I have a guide, do I not? And a very handsome one.” You sound collected and suave, but even he can see the way you high-five yourself for thinking of that pick-up line. He wants to frown, but the dopamine he gets from the flattery has him frowning happily, trying to bite back a snort.

-Hes not kicking his feet giggling when he sees you after a day of work… but hes not NOT twirling his hair and shuffling in place

-Gets mad when you don’t run up to him the moment he goes through the door

-Ok diva

[hualianschild]

JINSHI OHMYGAWD I'M ON MY KNEES HOLY SH1T HE'S SO BEAUTIFUL, PRETTY, GORGEOUS, MESMERIZING, ETHEREAL AND ALL THE THINGS THAT COULD DESCRIBE HIM GOD BLESS

(I'd like to see this in all the different versions it can exist please and thank you)

[sclappin]

There is a very specific type of character that hurts my heart so, so badly that I have to go lay down if I think about them too hard, and it's whatever Claudia and Laura both are.

I think they should hang out. I think they should scream together. I think they should commiserate. I think they should keep their secrets while sizing each other up. I think they should talk about girls they like.

[the-lost-profile]

GX Lahan is adorable

Lakan patting Lahan on the head

Lahan appreciating Jinshi's numbers (while Jinshi is wearing the Imperial armor)

Also Jinshi being weirded out because Lahan is very similar to Maomao(physically and behaviourally) with the difference that Lahan is "attracted" (in a weird La Clan way) to him.

[redcoralpot]

Smudged - Rodrick Heffley x FTM! Reader

Summary: Rodrick had been chasing after Heather for a year, now, even after ruining her birthday party. Chicks dig bad boys, right? However, one day, he stumbles upon a family member that even he didn't know she had, one that awakens a part of him that he didn't know existed.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3.3K

Notes: I had to fight Google Docs to finish this. AHHHHHHHHHH

-

The sun beat down on your arms, with rough concrete scratching your palms. Your ankles were dipped into the pool, a cool feeling enveloping them, and you used this to your advantage. A pink pool doughnut floated past, manipulated by the soft waves coming from other visitors, and you reached a foot out of the water with a splash! 

“What the hell!” Heather shrieked, attempting to paddle away from you. “Don’t get your toe-water on me, freak!”

“Like I care,” you snickered, raising your foot to do it again.

“You’re going to start caring when I dump your eyeliner in the toilet!”

A pout tugged on your lips, “Hey, now, that’s going a little far, don’t you think?”

“Like I care,” she sneered, rolling her eyes.

 The threat worked well enough, and you lowered your weapon, letting a hiss of air move a wisp out of your eyes. At least she wasn’t going to hide your pins inside the cookie jar… again. 

You spread a sheen of water across your biceps, attempting to quell the heat that built up from the minutes spent sitting on the edge. It only provided a sense of relief for a moment before a shadow loomed over your little spot, the temperature dropping with the rays missing. A groan built up in your throat; he was here.

Rodrick Heffley. The infamous man himself; the lead singer and drummer of the one band that ruined a girl’s birthday party for the sake of courting her, a serenade full of copyright instead of romance. That girl happened to be the most popular in the school, the one that every guy was tripping over himself over. The one who, rather unfortunately, happened to be your sister. 

Your neck twisted upwards, just to look at him, “What?”

“Didn’t know Heather had a brother,” he said, with a smug smile on his face.

“Huh.” You grinned, “I assumed you saw me at her party.”

The smile dropped, and was replaced with a sheepish look,  “Uh, yeah, I was busy.”

“That’s a gentle way to put it.”

He cleared his throat, struggling to not take the bait, “But, hey, what grade are you in? I’ve never seen you around.”

“Same grade, different schools. We’re twins.”

“Oh, damn, really? I couldn’t tell, you two don’t look the same, at all!”

You were used to getting that comment from older generations, who hadn’t been to school in the last half-a-century, but from a late teen? Health and biology should be fresh in everyone’s minds, they all took it two years ago. Though, who were you kidding, this was Rodrick you were talking about. He probably tricked his parents into doing all the homework for him, or worse, bullied his little brother into it. 

“Yeah, really. We’re fraternal twins, not identical.” You rolled your eyes.

There was no light bulb shining in his eyes, no signs that he even registered what you said, “Wait, what?”

“Two sperm, two eggs. Boom.”

“Still, it’s kinda sick that you two are complete,” he paused, “opposites.”

“Are you and Greg–”

“Me and that little nerd are not the same.”

“Then it’s the same concept.”

Rodrick kicked his sandals off before flopping on the edge beside you, cursing silently to himself when the rough ground scraped his hand. You gratefully took the chance to slide your own around your neck, cracking it out of its uncomfortable position. When you looked up again, he was watching you, his lips parted ever so slightly. He visibly swallowed, his Adam's apple betraying him.

“Where do’ya get your eyeliner from?”

“The pharmacy, duh. I won’t spend a lot on expensive eyeliner if I’m just going to smudge it in the end. By then, it all looks the same, why?”

“Just looking for some good brands to keep up my amazing makeup skills, that’s all.”

“So you don’t have to keep borrowing your mom’s?”

He squinted his eyes, peering at you, “How the hell do you know that?”

“Being Heather’s brother pays off sometimes; I hear all her calls.”

“She… talks about me?” You could hear the excitement, the hope growing in his voice. 

It took only a needle to pop it, “Yeah, shit-talks. She doesn't want you, man.”

“Nah, all chicks dig bad boys! They can’t act cool about it forever.”

“You’re more of a wannabe than a bad boy. Listen, if you’re hoping to get with Heather through me, you’re out of luck.”

He backed up, eyes wide, “Woah, woah, I never said that. It’d be a cool plus, sure, but I just wanted to talk to a cool dude.”

“Sure. Well, if you ever need some more eyeliner brands, I’m your man. Can’t promise that they won’t all be dumped in the toilet by tonight, though.”

“Why would they be–”

“Hey, newsflash,” A high voice called out from across the pool, doughnut in tow, “we promised to be back at home by five!”

“Oh, Heather, I have a show coming up; I could get you and the chicks some free tickets to it.” Rodrick hopped on one foot while struggling to get his sandals back on, that smirk creeping back onto his face.

You shook your head and decided to take your feet out of the pool, padding to your lounge chair. Drying them off on your towel, you roughhoused your socks and shoes on, worn to shreds after inspiration from Joey Ramone. Your father had been lucky enough to score tickets to one of his shows back in the late 80’s, and he recalls it as one of the best nights of his life. Not simply because he got to go to a concert, no, his buddy even had to convince him to go in the first place. It was one of his favorite recollections to tell to his two, and then three, children as they grew up.

Rodrick was promptly ignored by Heather as she walked over to you, and his eyes followed her as she dumped her float and bag into your arms. Only the tips of her hair were wet, and like you, had a dry pair of clothes on already. You had to wrestle with the weight until you had a clear view of the ground in front of your shoes.

After you passed the boy on your way to the exit, you called back, “Good luck with the show, Heffley!”

The walk back to the car was a short, but humid one; even from the distance you could see a slip of folded paper stuck in between your left windshield wiper, pale against the dark interior of the car. You managed to set your sister’s bag on the hood, and with light fingers, you plucked the note out of its hiding place, unfolding it.

“Looks like we had a visitor;” You couldn’t help but chuckle while reading it, “Löded Diper.”

Heather fumed, “Are you kidding me?”

“You don’t need to go, yeah?” You shrugged, ducking into the driver’s seat.

“It’s annoying!”

“I can’t exactly say it’s harmless after the party fiasco, but just know I’ll chase him off if he tries anything like that again.”

“Ugh.”

“Don’t worry about it.” 

You smiled, tucking the invitation deep into your pocket.

-

Dawdling with Heather’s time in the pool had earned you two missing sticks of makeup, and it was not hard to guess where they had gone the next time you took a piss. You forced yourself not to lash out at your sister, as surely that would make it worse, and just gritted your teeth as you flung the ruined containers into the trash. It truly made you wonder just how Rodrick had come to fall head over heels– literally, in some sense– for the girl. Hell, she treated him worse than you, from the things Holly had whispered to you at the dinner table.

The sun was just starting to set in the sky, light blue bleeding into orange as the pharmacy blocked the sun. You kicked a rock into the entrance, and the small clack caused the doors to slide open in front of you. It was a little late for the nightly rush; the very last of the families were finishing up their shopping, their kids squealing at the gum displayed by the cashier. He was a lean, stiff-looking guy, with sunken eyebags and a dim grin on his face. 

You whistled a tune under your breath, convincing him to turn to look at you, “You’re not paid enough for this, dude.”

“You think?” His smile dropped, and he rolled his eyes, “Why the hell are you here, anyway?”

“Holly isn’t sick, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“And?”

“But someone was sick enough to sabotage my makeup,” you said, flicking his silver name tag. Daniel.

Daniel slapped your hand away, gesturing to your bare eyes, “That part was obvious. Another guy with raccoon eyes slid in here only a few minutes earlier, looking for the same brand you always get, so I kind of assumed he was here to replenish your stash.”

“What? I’m here alone.”

“Really?” He came in close. “You’re sure you aren’t on a–”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You pushed his face back, your pointer finger squishing his nose.

A couple wandered up to the counter, baby in arms, snot running down its red chin. Their basket was full to the brim, and although Daniel’s winner grin instantly grew, you knew he just wanted to clock out. Snickering, you stuck your hands into your pockets, your wrists scratching against your studded belt as you disappeared into an aisle. The makeup section was located near the back of the pharmacy, filled with flickering lights and shelves full of a few select, cheap brands or clumps of dust. Typically, the only customers that wandered that far back were pre-teens or cigarette mothers; the kind of people who don’t give a shit about what they’re buying as long as it’s cheap.

However, as you sauntered over to the first row of shelves, a head full of brown, lazily styled hair greeted you instead. Not the odor of burnt tobacco, though it still stuck to the white walls in yellowish-gray globs, but the scent of the cheap cologne that followed you around the pool. Rodrick was hanging over quite a specific section, chewing his bottom lip. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as you looked on behind him in amusement. 

Leaning against the wall, you chuckled, “Took my advice, huh, Heffley?”

Rodrick jumped, and hissed under his breath. His posture shot up, his head turning to look at you; a pathetic attempt at saving face, really. No words were said for a long minute, only interrupted by the gargling screeches of a baby. What had Daniel done?

“I thought drug stores selling makeup was a lie, so I had to fact check!” He said, 

holding up his hands.

“You think I’d lie to you?”

“Hey, my mom taught me stranger danger.”

“Since when do you listen to your mom?” You reached past him, snatching up a container, “You obviously have no idea what to look for.”

Rodrick shuffled out of your way, and huffed at your comment. “I totally do!”

“Okay, then, pencil, felt, or liquid? Which do you prefer?”

“I think felt’s the best.”

At that confident response, you stepped closer, getting in his face. He didn’t have too much makeup on, actually; just messily applied eyeliner and a too-light eyebrow pencil. A light pink dusted his cheeks, now that you were able to get a good look at them– his eyes widened, preventing you from doing the same for his eyes. You bit your cheek, your own eyebrows furrowing.

“Relax, dude, I’m trying to look,” you snapped, and used his chin to force him to face upwards.

Even as his shoulders relaxed and his eyelids drooped, he mumbled, “You’re taller than I remember.”

You released his face. Without someone to lean on, Rodrick stumbled, his breathing heavy, despite him never doing anything but laze around. Stepping back, you gave him a knowing grin, pleased at your find. He didn’t seem to process it, lifting a hand to feel up his own jaw. It clicked shut with a snap.

“Liar, you’re wearing pencil eyeliner,” you snickered.

“How the hell could you tell?”

You reached for another container, “Unless you have shit coordination, it’s less precise than liquid is. Creamier, too.”

“That’s sick, man.”

Tapping the pencil into his hand, you kicked his foot, urging him to take it, “I recommend this brand if you’re a fan of that. It’s cheap, so you can stop using up all of your mom’s.”

“Ow!”

He pulled his foot up with one, gripping the eyeliner with the other. Hopping back, he seemed like a really pissed, wounded puppy as he glared at your boots, “Why’d you kick me with those monsters?”

“Monsters? These are Doc Martens, ‘1460’. How do you expect to impress Heather if you can’t even handle a tap to the heel?”

“Excuse me, I let it get run over by a car for her! Barely reacted.”

“So I heard.” You shook your head.

A voice shouted from the intercom, “Are you two done back there? The store’s closing in five, you’re the only ones left, and I’ll lock you in here if you make me work a minute overtime!”

The two of you rushed to the front, pushing and shoving each other into the aisles in order to get to the counter first. Rodrick, out of shape, lost after he landed back-first into packages of gauze. Daniel, the man himself, was even more unimpressed at the scene than he sounded over the intercom, and looked in back and forth between you. He cracked his knuckles, getting to work on scanning the two tiny pencils; he did not even bother to put them in a plastic bag. He scratched his chin, squinting at the screen.

“That’ll be $2.48.”

You pulled out a five dollar bill out of your wallet, “I’ll pay.”

“Shit, I’m okay with that.” Rodrick shrugged.

Daniel stared him down as he snatched the bill out of your hand, “Aren’t you Rodrick Heffley? Greg’s older brother?”

“Duh, the one and only!” Rodrick said, and Daniel turned to you.

“Since when were you buddy-buddy with him? Heather hates his guts.”

“We aren’t buddy-buddy,” you scoffed, and an affronted noise came from beside you. “I only officially met him yesterday, when he was harassing her again. Pretty sure he only talked to me to find out more about Heather.”

The register finished its business with a ding. The cashier handed you your change, taking the opportunity to slide his uniform vest off of his body. You pocketed it along with your stick of eyeliner, almost throwing Rodrick’s at him. Meanwhile, Daniel had disappeared behind a door locked to customers, a clear message to get out of the store while he still allowed it. Your shoes hit the tiled floor with heavy thumps; Rodrick’s steps were silent compared to yours. Your own footsteps quieted as soon as you exited the store, muted by the asphalt ground of the parking lot. 

Rodrick had pulled in with his van, clearly not the smartest move if he had wanted to be inconspicuous. It had a cheap, white paint job that was stained with words spray painted in black, uncentered and tilted. Your car, on the other hand, was a tiny thing that belonged to your mother, who would absolutely murder you if you even got a dent in it from a passing stick. The sun had long dipped under the horizon, causing the deep red color to read as crimson. However, before you could get in, one hand on the door, Rodrick called out to you.

“Thanks for… stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, “That’s the first time I think anybody has ever witnessed you say thanks.”

You slammed your car door shut with you inside, watching Rodrick scramble for safety inside his van. The car’s windshield was dark with the fresh evening sky, and you could finally relax in privacy. Turning the key to start the engine, you then flicked on the radio, one arm occupied by resting near the window. An unfamiliar tune, a new release, started playing, as you backed out of your spot; speeding off. If someone asked you about it later, you would have sworn that you saw the boy staring at your fleeting vehicle. 

Truth be told, your family lived in a rich neighborhood that was too well put together for something so close to a highway. Your house wasn’t the biggest in the residency, but it was decent enough to see the golden lights shining through the treetops. Living near a long line of stores was an advantage, you supposed, if a zombie apocalypse happened; but that wouldn’t. At least while you were still alive or young enough to fight some off. Otherwise, it was noisy, and you had to drown out the sounds of motorcycles, cars, and fights breaking out to focus on anything after school.

Your driveway was smooth; any rocks had been smoothed out by the machines rolling over them daily. A few flower bushes lined it– your mother had been insistent about it– and their thorns occasionally caught on your pants when you walked past. Everyone seemed to still be awake as you slipped through the door, keys jingling, since Holly jumped down the stairs to greet you.

She whispered, “Where’d you go?”

“The pharmacy, why are we whispering?” You grinned, matching her energy.

“I didn’t know if mom and dad knew,” she responded, louder, “You got grounded for a month last time you snuck out.”

“Okay, okay, shh, back to whispering.”

You climbed up the stairs, not bothering to let Heather know you had returned. Her voice carried throughout the walls, as she was complaining on call about projects, about boys, about Rodrick. Every time she talked with her friends, she complained about the ‘tough guy’ who deluded himself into thinking she was secretly into him, every time he acted up. All the girls seemed to have formed a hate club for the drummer, and if Holly had anything to say about it, it was that some of the teachers joined it as well.

As soon as you shut your bedroom door, you bent down to untie your Doc’s purple ties, tugging the boots off and throwing them in your closet. You slipped your pants off, then your boxers, leaving only your secondary underwear to hold your pad inside. Before you could throw both garments in your hamper, you paused, feeling a crinkle underneath your hand. You reached down into the pocket, pulling out a wrinkled, ripped piece of paper. Thoughtfully, you smoothed it out, pinning it on your cork board as you tossed your clothes into the pile.

Two free tickets to their upcoming show, meant for Heather. It would take a lot in order to drag Daniel to the event with you, as a plus one, but you were sure you were capable. As you settled into bed, you thought back to all the things your twin had said about the band, and the party. That celebration had been the only time you had heard their music, and it wasn’t even their song, more so a cover.

You gently placed the pencil on your bedside, only able to see the outline of it in the moonlight. If he was only being nice to you for Heather’s approval, why had he taken your advice? That mystery should bother you, should keep you up, like it did last night. But truly?

You could not find it in yourself to care.

-

[splatooshy]

TVD textposts & memery

[maragidyke]

aphmau make this real

[saurree]

[aso-bi]

₊˚⊹♡ The collection is complete!

All my Kusuriya no Hitorigoto emotes so far! I'll hopefully make more in the future.

If you want some emotes of your own DM me! Or check out my carrd below! •⩊• Carrd | Ko-fi

[that-was-a-bit-stupid-of-you]

do NOT let me die without listening to renee rapp singing "can a gay girl get an amen" at the snl otherwise i WILL haunt you

[hualianschild]

appreciation post for jinshi's fem beauty <3

(will add more as I continue to read)

[j-eazz]

As a bi girl I don’t have a fucking clue how to flirt with women.

[mogai-headcanons]

icon id: 10 icons in 5 pairs. in each pair, both icons have the listed flags in order in the background and the left icon has an image of the listed character with a white outline and a black shadow. end id.

banner id: a 1500x150 teal banner with the words ‘please read my dni before interacting’ in large white text in the center. end id.

Nikki Maxwell from Dork Diaries is a girlgender deminonbinary biromantic bi lesbian!

Zoey Franklin is an intersex agender bennetian sapphic!

Chloe Garcia is a feminine cisgenderqueer bisexual sapphic lesbian!

Mackenzie Hollister is a femme lesbian and has a crush on Nikki!

Brandon Roberts is a bisexual trans guy!

dni link

[redcoralpot]

Smudged (3) Rodrick Heffley X M! Reader

Anddd it's here!

Warnings: Mentioned eating disorder otherwise not specified.

Summary: You were busy enough in life, too busy for what school planned to throw at you; at everyone. A boy you know well seemed to come up with an idea to manage that.

Word Count: 2.7K

-

A white pillowcase smashed against a mess of blonde hair, “Get up.”

Heather’s eyes scrunched up, her first action of the day being to glare at you with an unreasonable amount of venom. The sky outside was just starting to shine through the blinds in her bedroom, clashing against the pink theme of it all. She was never quite the morning person, but frankly, waking her and Holly up was simply your duty; it has been since it was just the two of you.

“School’s been in for two weeks, you should be used to this by now,” you snickered, backing away from the bed.

“Get out of my room!”

That was the only warning you got before she initiated her revenge, sending the poor, soft pillow flying once again. You balanced onto your toes as you shut the door as quickly as you could; the only proof that the object hit the target was the loud thump on the thin wood, “Be careful not to mess up your precious cotton pillowcases!”

“They’re satin, you freak,” Heather yelled, echoing in the hallway you retreated down.

Holly’s room was the second farthest away from yours, only being beat by your parents’. The only thing that separated it from the rest of the house was a tie-dyed sheet; her choice, of course. With careful fingers, you peeked inside, seeing your little sister shifting and groaning in her blankets.

Softly, “It’s time to wake up, I got your favorite cereal downstairs.”

She shot up, staring at you with wide eyes, “Really?”

“Of course I did! Not a day goes by where I don’t spoil my favorite little sister, now does it?”

You disappeared back behind the sheets when she scrambled out of bed, eager to get dressed. The stairs groaned underneath your covered feet, almost as if they were as unenthusiastic about the day as you were. Both of your parents leave for work earlier than most now that Holly was old enough to be left alone with her older siblings, but because Heather rendered herself helpless in the morning, the role of caretaker was left to you. 

All three of you have to leave for school at seven, so you wake your siblings up to greet the morning at six o’clock sharp, no more, no less. You as yourself get up an hour earlier in order to gather your own things, pack lunches, pack Holly’s bag, and have time for yourself. It was exhausting, always, but it was worth it to see the two of them shine.

The kitchen was adjacent to the dining room, with warm lighting to start the morning off in the right mood. You dug your fingers into the cardboard seal on the cereal before popping open the plastic bag inside, not bothering to use scissors. It never spilled everywhere, after all. As you heard Holly’s light footsteps swirling down the stairs, you shook a serving into a ceramic bowl, setting it beside a cup of milk on the usual table. Heather never ate breakfast, and no matter how hard you tried, she insisted that she needed to skip in order to keep up with her dream body. If you pushed it, she snapped.

When Holly finally appeared and slid into her seat, you sat in a chair beside her, “How’re classes going? I heard this is the year you finally start switching classrooms for periods.”

“They’re going good, I guess.” She sighed, pouring the milk into her breakfast, “My teacher for English already handed out the project prompts for this year, but I don’t wanna do it.”

“Wait, wait, what the hell? Already?”

“You haven’t gotten yours yet?”

“No, not in my school. Isn’t it against the rules to get a head start?”

“It was only a day before you, so I don’t think so,” she grumbled, mouth full.

“Well, it should be.”

“Nobody’s started working on it yet.”

You threw your hands up in the air, laughing, “Still!”

Over the oven, the clock blinked at you. You ruffled Holly’s hair, while she turned her head towards you, adorned with a milky mustache, “We have to get going soon, your stuff’s leaning on the door.”

She jumped out of her chair, running to the bottom of the stairs to call upwards, “Heather! We gotta go!”

“I just need five more minutes to finish getting ready,” Heather replied, half silenced by the sound of the bowls settling into the sink.

“Nuh-uh, we have to go now!”

Holly shuffled her shoes on, sitting down to tie them neatly. Your twin hurried down the stairs, squishing past the other girl on the way down, flipping her hair behind her back. She opened the door, and shivered as the early chill seeped into her bones. Heather grabbed her bag alongside Holly’s, practically throwing it in the car before placing her own down in the backseat. You double checked the oven, lights, and sinks, before shoving Holly out the door and locking it behind you. Heather called shotgun, therefore Holly had to squish herself in between everyone’s backpacks. The car started with a weak, stumbling roar, and you were on your way.

The world was only just starting to wake up in a blur outside the windows as the voice of a young woman sang throughout your vehicle, interrupted with the occasional tapping of Heather texting her friends. She never stopped keeping up with her social life, it seemed. However, while everyone else was lost in thought, one thing stuck in your mind.

“Hey, did you get your prompt?” you said, glancing at the girl beside you.

Heather did not even look up from her screen, “Duh. You haven’t?”

“Ugh.”

“So… that’s a no.”

As you pulled into the parking lot of the school, lined behind an endless row of cars, she smacked you in the arm, “Why are you in the drop-off line? I’m driving the girls to the mall after school today, I told you last night.”

“Okay, okay,” you hissed, turning the wheel, “you didn’t have to hit me!”

“Don’t get a spot too far from the school, either!”

Your car slowed to a stop and powered off, as you slipped the key out and handed it to Heather, “I’ll kill you if you lose that– now both of you, shoo! Get out!”

Its doors were slammed shut, and it locked with a beep. You leaned against the hood of the vehicle, watching carefully as your two sisters entered the school. It was a plain-looking building, which the school pathetically attempted to fix with a few colorful flower bushes. The air around you was silent, as quiet as a parking lot could be, and you turned to walk the rest of the way to your school building. Yet, before you could step any farther, a white van screeched past. Deafening music screamed out; it was distorted from how roughly the driver was maneuvering potholes. Oh, how bad you felt for the passengers, did the driver even have a license? You shook your head, glad that you had the sense to keep an eye on your sisters.

The school you went to was not far away, simply a few buildings down the opposite side of the street. Due to their close proximity, they were always competing in everything; from student count, finances, even to awards. So much so that they had devised a competition to be held between the schools each year to contribute to the state curriculum. It was annual, of course, and every single one of the projects made would be showcased and judged based on a variety of categories. Whichever school gets on the podium the most, well, you get the point. That doesn’t mean it’s not a pain in the ass, however.

The day went quicker than usual, with you patiently awaiting the class of which you would get your prompt and category; English. You were set on it enough that even Daniel noticed, poking and picking at you the entire day, finding time to do it in the hallways when you did not have classes together. He reached his hand back towards you, fingers making a crude attempt at stealing your eraser.

You slapped it away as the bell rang, the seats in the classroom filled, “What’re you doing?”

“Lightening the mood, ever heard of it?” he whispered back, craning his neck to look at you.

Students around the two of you were passing papers back, the teacher’s eyes glaring holes into Daniel’s head. He squeaked, taking his prompt, and proceeded to throw the slip of paper behind him. It fluttered in the air, and came to a rest on the top of your nose. He earned two more holes being burned into him as it slid gracefully off of the tip. For revenge, you leaned forward, your hand hovering over a stray lock of Daniel’s hair. He had opened his own paper, shoulders scrunched, and you yanked the strand in favor of reading it.

He yelped while you raised an eyebrow, “Tree vandalism, huh?”

“What the fuck, dude,” More groans arose from the class around you, “what did I do?”

“You know what you did.”

“Ms. Kawiti already avenged you with whatever this is, please do tell me what tree vandalism is!” He rolled his eyes.

“Well, what’s the category?”

“Environmental Science– I hate that class, you don’t understand.”

You slouched against your desktop, “Loser. I bet they chose that on purpose.”

“If you’re so confident, why don’t you open yours?”

“I was getting to it!”

Daniel scooched his chair around, almost unheard in the chatter-filled room, when you thumbed the slip open. Percussion; musical. Ah, yes, now you could understand the reaction of everyone else. It felt like the administration grouped together all of the staff to give all of the students the worst prompts imaginable, even the janitor. Even God himself knows that the janitor hates them all, rightfully. Perhaps this was his plan to avenge himself and any of the past janitors as well, after a decade of working there. Perhaps you could plead for mercy, even as the class around you fell silent.

He squinted his eyes, attempting to read it upside down, “That isn’t too bad, unlike something someone got.”

“Since when can you read like that?”

“Since now,” Daniel said.

You scoffed, crumpling the paper and tossing it in your bag, “I don’t even know anything about percussion.”

“Well, the whole point is to research a topic, so,” he waved his own, “Google it, go to the library, pay the music teacher a visit for the first time this year. At least you get to have fun with yours!”

“Yeah, true, I won’t be stuck studying trees.” At that, Daniel stuck up his middle finger, scowling. 

A singular finger tapped his shoulder, a ring adorning it. You hid a smile behind your hand as Daniel slowly turned, getting tenser with each second that passed. His eyes followed the figure upward, until they finally met her own. Ms. Kawiti, in all her glory, stood firm in front of his desk with pursed lips; an action that gave you a better look of the tattoo of which ran down the bottom of her lips to her chin.

“Class was dismissed five minutes ago, boys. And Mr. Ivanov, if I see that behavior in my classroom again, I won’t hesitate to give you detention.”

Daniel shrunk in his seat, “Yes, ma’am, understood.”

She strolled to the front of the classroom, and busied herself with a stack of papers. He wasted no time shoving his materials into his backpack, heaving it onto his shoulder, and most likely busting the door hinges with how fast he ran out. You allowed yourself to remove your hand from your mouth, snickering. As you got up to follow your friend, the teacher looked up from her papers with a certain twinkle in her eye.

“Remember that working with another student is prohibited; have a nice day.” As you slipped out of the classroom at last.

Daniel was waiting for you outside, and trailed behind you as you appeared. He grabbed a string on your bag, per usual, in order to not lose you in the waves of students crashing into the both of you. You pulled him along, leading him to the quickly emptying rows of lockers in the hallway. This is where the pressure on your backpack stopped, and Daniel slammed open his door. The lock holding yours open clicked under your fingers, allowing you to dump the contents of your bag inside while its pins shook. 

He loudly asked, “Is it just me, or is she horribly strict?”

“Every teacher is strict to you, dude, you just hate school.” You hissed, “If anything, Ms. Kawiti is the least strict teacher that we’ve ever had.”

“She did let me off with a warning for flipping you off instead of detention.”

You smacked his back, “You’re one lucky man, Daniel. She won’t let you off that easily next time.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

He zipped up his bag, hitting you with it as he tugged it on. You made a face at him, only to see him smirking at you, before darting down the hall and towards the two large exit doors. Your jaw tightened, teeth grinding against one another. Even as you chased him from a distance, you could hear his cackles only getting louder as you started to close it, reaching out a hand to grab him by the collar. Daniel knew he couldn’t outrun you; he never once had beaten you in mandatory track practices in middle school, much less now. He lasted a grand total of thirty-two seconds before you seized him by the back of his neck, a mere foot from the doors. 

“You lost.”

Daniel cursed, “I have a heavier bag than you, of course I did!”

“Excuses, excuses.” You flicked his nose before setting him on the ground outside of the building, joining him shortly. The last thing you wanted was to pay a visit to the principal’s office simply because a teacher saw you playing. 

As you slid down the railing, accompanying the boy jumping down the stairs, he said, “Where’s your car? Aren’t you driving home today?”

“Nah, man. Heather wanted to take the girls and Holly out to the mall.”

“I could drive you home, if you want.”

You huffed, “No thanks, wouldn’t wanna be a bother.”

Daniel held his hands high in the air, backing away towards his car, “If you say so.”

“See you tomorrow, tell me how the research goes.”

“You better text me when you get home, don’t make me wait until math in the morning to see if you got kidnapped!” he yelled, slamming his door shut and peeking out the window.

Instead of answering, you stuck out your tongue at him as the engine roared. Really, you could have sworn he flipped you off again before pulling out of the lot, speeding off until you would be able to see him the next day. You chuckled, shifting the weight of your bag onto your other shoulder, starting onto your journey home. Heather and Holly should both be out of school by now, despite the fact that your school releases earlier than theirs, and should be on their way to the mall. You can’t steal the car back now, can you?

That is all you could think about as you crossed the street, running across the sections where cars were lined, peering at the entrance in hopes of seeing your siblings. Instead, you could only see a puff of brown hair hurtling towards you before a body hit you, an arm curling around your neck and spinning you around. You hurled over, trying to throw the person off of you, not wanting to take Daniel’s words seriously. A grunt and a smack rang out as he hit the floor; you stumbled a few steps back. 

A cough, “What was that for?” Rodrick spluttered.

You exhaled in a hurry, “Oh my god, it’s you.”

“Of course it’s me, who else would it be?”

“A kidnapper,” you responded dumbly.

He rolled onto his hands and knees, shaking as he staggered onto his feet once again, “Damn, I just wanted to say hi.”

“What part of hi requires you to jump on me?”

“The friendly part, duh.”

You stayed silent, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. He seemed to pick up on your mood, scratching the back of his neck, his voice still hoarse from the fall. 

“I need you to do a favor for me.”

-

[splatooshy]

what kind of music/artists/bands do you think the scooby gang + the originals would listen to in the early seasons?

OH OH OH

well we know from canon that even without humanity, damon can & will listen to taylor swift without complaint. even though he’s perfectly capable of compelling a music change.

& he listens to depeche mode so he’s automatically cool.

i think the salvatores have very wide tastes, but not much overlap. stefan loves bon jovi to an unhealthy degree, and would probably have been a BIG beach boys fan back in the day. he’s totally over it now though, those records in his cupboard are purely decorative!! damon would love ABBA, head over heels reminds him of katherine & he uses it to outsource his emotions in his no humanity era. stefan tolerates it for lexi’s sake (damon thinks it’s unfortunate that he and lexi have similar music taste. it’s probably the only thing he likes about her). also the cure.

i think stefan cries to bon iver’s ‘roslyn’.

both stefan and damon would be into stevie nicks & florence + the machine & paramore & david bowie (damon in fact knew him rather well back in the seventies…) but in totally different ways. damon loves anthems & grooves, discordant sounds and triplet beats, while stefan digs a good beat & steady rhythm. with a fabulous guitar riff ofc.

bonnie is also a big paramore girly. also hozier. i think she and damon bond over similar music tastes.

caroline listens to taylor swift (fearless is her fav, red & 1989 are 2&3), one direction, jonas brothers, miley, britney etc. she bullies politely asks jeremy to let her use his tech stuff to make her own mixes. she also has a hot pink boombox that she takes to every cheer practice. it’s covered in stickers that won’t come off no matter how hard she tries. yes, vampire strength has been applied.

elena spent the three months between the crash & stefan blasting dean lewis in her bedroom. hozier, bon jovi to seem cool to stefan, janis joplin, probably some british pop like dexys midnight runners, ed sheeran, bastille. but that’s a secret she’ll take to her grave.

jeremy listens to 21 pilots, mcr, p!atd, bleachers (later seasons tho. don’t think they existed til 2015 or something), the neighbourhood, arctic monkeys, fallout boy, etc. probably listens to sheppard on repeat. geronimo just really speaks to him, okay?! absolutely does not copy damon’s taste in music, that’s just a coincidence!!! he’s also the source of elena’s secret love for british pop.

matt listens to elevator music. nah he just plays whatever’s on the radio. my truck is my girlfriend & my dog has fleas kind of country music? idk.

tyler has all of those mix cds like sofresh, each 00s / 90s genre, really does not care what he listens to as long as he can nod his head along.

alaric listens to 80s rock in a dad way & whatever damon plays because damon has dj rights everywhere & will push his way onto the aux.

not really in the gang but katherine listens to male manipulator music. and female manipulator music like ethel cain, fiona apple, etc.

the originals?

klaus listens to smooth jazz. and instrumental covers. he’ll text stefan a link to the lamest love song ever (instrumental) with the caption ‘this is our song’.

kol also listens to smooth jazz, but in a cool way. as well as 00s pop. he and rebekah fight over who discovered what song first. he would absolutely LOVE musicals. has the glee & hamilton soundtracks on his little ipod. BOY BANDS OMG kol has a backstreet boys poster confirmed. also 90s-00s hip hop / rap / pop hybrids. especially nelly furtado.

OH OH THE SHREK SOUNDTRACK. that’s his jam fr fr.

rebekah is a speak now girly through and through. ‘innocent’ is literally her song. she’s just so taylor swift. she would LOVE suki waterhouse, but that’s not for another few years. OH WAIT REBEKAH’S CANONICALLY ALIVE IN 2024. she absolutely listens to chappell roan and it DEFINITELY does not make her think of hayley, why would you say that???

elijah listens to eight hour long symphonies and concertas, but won’t complain if one of the others is hogging the aux. he will not be so childish as to dagger his siblings over music disputes, (klaus), or break their arms (rebekah), thank you very much. he only demands control of the music when damon’s trying to seduce him (succeeding), because elijah knows how to woo & be wooed in return. that includes the romantic playlist. also, damon has a very annoying habit of singing along & playing air guitar when the bridge hits just right, usually whilst there is a cock in his ass.

finn likes renaissance fair music. he considers it to be contemporary, as he was daggered during this period.