#i could do art if i cared enough unfortunately i care about girls from songs more

[red-dyed-sarumane]

i wonder how many people who follow me have the aru sekai tags i use filtered or if everyones just like there they go again

[deke-rivers-1957]

Kissin Cousins Review

After Viva Las Vegas went over budget, Colonel Parker as the technical advisor pushed the panic button. The next immediate film had its budget slashed and everything was rushed just to make back any money lost. The production was very cheap despite a somewhat ambitious story of having Elvis play 2 characters.

Despite being made after Viva Las Vegas, Kissin Cousins came out first making for a very jarring experience if seen back to back. A lot of people HATE this movie because of the concept and cheap production, indicating that Colonel's plan didn't work as he expected. After all, if you only spend a grand total of a $1 million dollars on a movie, you only need $1,000,001 to make a profit. Does Kissin Cousins have some good parts to it or is it all bad and should never be mentioned again? Let's find out.

Kissin Cousins is a pleasant opening song. It's not something that blows you away but it's a nice little ditty with cute art. It makes me wonder why we never had an animated film as those were usually way cheaper than a regular movie. Yes animation in the 60s wasn't as big of an industry as it is now, but if Colonel wanted to value cheap production, animation would've been the way to go.

We get introduced to the conflict of the movie: The military wants a military base on the Tatums mountain land in the Smokey Mountains. The Tatums don't want to sell as they don't trust the government. As stereotypical as this sounds, this was a pretty common experience. The only issue I have with this element is that they want to show this as the Air Force, but everyone is dressed in Army uniforms. Josh starts off wearing a more accurate uniform but we quickly do away with that. A sign already that no one cared enough to make things accurate.

We also see very quickly that this movie is so cheap they can't even film b-roll footage of the real Appalachian Mountains. Instead we get Southern California mountains and Hollywood sets. As much as it sounds like a nitpick, the mountains are a mega important part of the movie. Depicting the real mountains would add more immersion into the story by showcasing how these people live. Smokey Mountain Boy as a song doesn't stand out on its own. It does sound lovely in the context of the movie. It sounds like the type of song a military man would sing. We get a dumb joke about mountaineers not knowing how to spell and the girls not knowing what Jodie looks like. If you look very closely we get another sign that the movie is cheap in the form of a faint yellow line in the middle of the screen. That's meant to be the filter that allows Elvis to play both Josh and Josh at once. More on that later.

We find out that Jodie actually isn't their brother. He's a cousin too and my whole world just blew up. This whole time I thought they were all siblings because he lived with them like he's their brother. There's Gold in the Mountains is bad. The lip-synching is non-existent. It's very apparent that neither Azalea or Selena's actress are actually singing. They sound nothing like they're speaking voices. I don't think this song was really necessary and could've been cut if it wasn't for a quota. Ma calls Jodie her nephew and man I want to know this man's story. There's so many ways you can go about this and show how this could significantly impact his character and his decisions.

Pappy is an amazing character. Arthur O'Connell really shows his range as he sounds nothing like Pop Kwimper from Follow That Dream. Despite being the same character of the government disdaining patriarch on paper, you really get the idea that this is a completely different person. Pappy and Pop are similar but are not the same. What I don't like is that his clothes are seen as dirty and full of holes. Jodie and the sisters don't have that problem so unless Pappy just got done wrestling some pigs, this is purely for laughing at dirty uncivilized Southerners. While it is unfortunate that some of them lived that way, this isn't the Tatums' situation.

Ma's an amazing character too and it only highlights my point that she wouldn't accept anyone in the family to be walking around in unkempt clothing. She would've immediately patched up any holes she found. You get the idea that she isn't someone to push around. She respects Pappy's authority but she also has her own authority. Ma is willing to flip Jodie right on his butt if he disrespects her despite Jodie easily being bigger than her. In real life, an average sized woman being able to flip over what I consider to be a 200 lb man would be super impressive. We clearly get the idea that Pappy loves it. He wants his wife to be a strong woman who doesn't take disrespect from anyone.

This whole scene insults Southerners by having them own a Confederate Flag in the house, eat possums and other stereotypical "white trash" food like this is a regular occasion. Like it's something they take pride in eating and wouldn't want to eat anything else. Note: people only eat that when there's nothing else available. It would only make sense if they were proud of Ma being able to make do with what little they had but again this isn't what they're going through. They have pigs so it makes no sense why they still eat possums outside of stereotyping.

We get a visual gag of the captain turning green. This is such a cheap special effect. It looks like they just shined a green light over his face like we're in a cartoon. So bizarre and only exists because "haha isn't mountain food so disgusting." Totally unnecessary especially with how long they drag the joke of no one knowing what an ICBM is. In real life, if this family was as ignorant as the movie makes them out to be, they would not survive.

One Boy, Two Little Girls is a very boring ballad. It adds nothing to the movie and is just filler. We already got a song with him singing to the sisters and learn nothing new. You can just cut to Josh talking to Azalea and Selena about how to convince Pappy. This whole interaction between Josh with Azalea and Selena is weird. We're supposed to think he digs both of them.

Catchin On Fast which is just as shallow. The song itself isn't bad, but in the context of the movie it comes out of nowhere. Josh just randomly picks Azalea over Selena. Yes we get the drama that Selena has to get married first, but outside of that there's no reason for him to pick Azalea. Yes it could be a matter of Josh preferring brunettes but it's never established to be the reason why he likes Azalea more. Admittedly I love that Selena isn't jealous of Azalea or mad that Josh picked her sister over her. In a different Elvis movie we know that would've been a conflict that lasted throughout the whole movie.

We get introduced to Midge and Jodie completely looks smitten. This is a completely different side of him. It's implied that he's had relations with more than one Kittyhawk woman but becomes such a different man around Midge. In that moment, none of the other women matter anymore. Midge is the only woman on his mind and you have to wonder what about her captures his attention. Maybe it's because she's not immediately throwing herself at him or seems interested in him at all. Just by this scene alone, Midge does not give a single care that he's staring at her. If anything she straights up ignores him after they're introduced.

Watching Azalea interact with the Kittyhawks when they give them their own bikinis is the only difference we get. Azalea actively stands up to them and puts them in their place. She doesn't tolerate their actions. Ma puts her foot down when she sees that this turned everything upside down and I can understand where she's coming from. If Azalea and Selena are disrespecting her and the Kittyhawks are causing nothing but trouble, of course she would be upset.

The reporter exposes their plan to get the mountain base and the plan is all coming apart when the general contacts the captain about going up to the mountain. The captain orders Midge to go to Ma and try to smooth things over. Despite this being the 60s, the captain treats Midge like any other subordinate. He's not overly harsh or lenient with her just because she's a woman. Now that's gender equality. She runs into Jodie and at first we think Jodie's going to act like a pig and a wolf. And he does act like that, but what makes this movie better than most is that he gets his comeuppance. Yes it's meant to be a source of comedy but given the 60s, Midge being allowed to push back against horny men is incredible. She grins and bears it when it's the other military men because a lot of them may outrank her and pushing back would be horrific. But since Jodie has no authority over her, she pushes back. In other movies Jodie would be a creep who escalates his advancements after every rejection. But he doesn't. He saw the look on Midge's face when she thought he got hurt. She doesn't actually hate him, she just hates how forward and physical he is.

Based on their social situations, you can clearly see how it influences these women's reactions to male attention. Midge is just so used to men seeing her for her body and nothing else that when in a situation where she can push back against that behavior she will do it, while the Kittyhawks hardly ever see men so any attention or interaction with men would be like giving kids candy after denying them that for so long. And whether he fully realizes it or not, Jodie has to acknowledge that Midge really isn't like other girls but her own person. So he changes his approach to serenading Midge with Tender Feeling. Easily the best song in the movie and actually adds depth to Jodie's character. Even though he's a cocky jock, this song actually matters by showing that he's capable of being more than that. It still fails but even when it fails the only thing on Jodie's mind isn't a notch on his bed post it's WEDDING BELLS. He had full choice of any Kittyhawk out there to marry. He could've married any one of them at any time. But he doesn't want to be with any of them. He wants Midge. You can make an argument that as soon as he saw Midge for the first time, he wanted to marry her. Unbelieveable how this side character in a cheap Elvis production actually has some type of character arc.

Meanwhile, Azalea tries to convince Ma about changing her mind. I know the movie wants to make us feel bad about it, but we don't have any reason to feel bad. I don't feel anything for this relationship. Outside of Josh being different than the other mountain men, there's no real reason for her to like him. I care more about Hezekiah missing Pappy and he's a dog.

So they go to find Pappy and all of the men except for the captain and Jodie get captured by the Kittyhawk women. For once an Elvis character doesn't like being appreciated by multiple women. I guess it's meant to show how Josh is more "civilized" than Jodie. We get another Joe Esposito appearance in this movie and he actually gets a line.

Ma actually gets a song lamenting the loss of her husband. Pappy, Won't You Please Come Home is actually a pretty appropriate song. It shows just how much she loves him. The vocals could be better but it doesn't have to be professional because within the context of the movie, Ma isn't a professional singer. Pitch doesn't matter when you're sad.

We find out Pappy got chased by a bear and got stuck in a tree. The wide shot of him being stuck in a tree is so bad. You can tell this is a stunt double since Arthur O'Connell is too old to be doing stuff like this. Even when you can see his face you can tell he's only dangling on a wire and it's not even clear how he's caught. I get we needed something to get Josh on the family's good side but they could've done this a bit better. You would think this would be when Josh and Jodie would have to work together to save Pappy, but I guess that would've just been too hard to film. Again if Jodie had a real character arc this would be the moment when he realizes "hey Josh just isn't doing this because he's told to. He genuinely cares about us. He acts like he's kin."

We get a good old fashioned hoedown and hi where did all these people come from? Up until now we've had the Tatums and the Kittyhawks as the only people who live on this mountain. So why is there a whole village of people here? It completely changes the Kittyhawk women's reason to exist. If you imply that there's literally no other man on this mountain outside of Jodie, then these women being boy crazy make perfect sense. Now that we know Jodie isn't the only young man, they just look like a stereotype that women are promiscuous.

Barefoot Ballad fits so well with Jodie's character but watch out foot phobic people because it's exactly as it says on the tin. The dancing however, isn't that great. It shows just how rushed this movie's production wise. I guess it could work in that in universe these aren't professionals but as a movie it could be better. This is where the song quota kicks in as we get yet another song in the span of not even five minutes. Once Is Enough is fine but it's still filler. The dancing is still bad as one of them actually falls down and it stayed in the final cut. Based on Pappy's little speech I would've thought he would start singing. Heck even the captain who would later play Grandpa Joe showed he could sing in Willy Wonka so it's not like we couldn't have had a Pappy song.

After all this time, Jodie finally gets a character moment where he warms up to Josh. While Jodie internally realizes that Josh was alright when he saved Pappy, this would've been the perfect moment to showcase that he's willing to compliment Josh. If only he had more of a role in the movie because what little we get shows a pretty engaging character arc. Midge coming around would've been a natural reason for him to warm up to city folk. I could make a whole post about how I would write his character since there's so much potential.

The Kittyhawk women actually play an important role by sending the general in circles. That's what makes this movie great. Everyone has a part to play even if they start off as a joke. Pappy gets in a drinking contest with the captain. I have to laugh that Jodie managed to snap Pappy's suspenders when Pappy tries to run away. It actually adds to Jodie's claim that he's the champion and therefore strongest man in the mountains. Ma makes it clear that they have to talk things over so Josh and Pappy try to make a deal over a game of checkers. Jodie actually tries to help Josh out by getting the captain sober. If only they took advantage of them looking alike and had Jodie disguise himself as Josh. Jodie would have to swallow his pride because he knows if this deal fails, he would lose Midge as she's a WAC.

It isn't until Josh comes up with a deal allowing Pappy to continue selling his moonshine without "revenoor" interference. They also get protection and $1000 a month for the land. The deal goes through and everyone ends up happy. The one thing I wish was better explained is how despite all these people being on the mountain, Pappy is somehow the leader. I think if we had so much as a line about how these people came from distant villages would be enough as it's not like the military intended on buying the entire mountain.

Kissin Cousins (Number 2) is a banger of a song and I really like Jodie's twang when he sings but wow the production is cheap. They don't even bother cropping the shot above where you can actually see Lance LeGault (Elvis' body double) in the background. This isn't the first nor only time either. Throughout the movie and during the song when they switch back and forth between Josh and Jodie, we can see his face by accident. Elizabeth Montgomery in Bewitched had to do something similar when she had to play Samantha and her identical cousin Serena. That episode came out in 1966 and managed to do a better job. A TV show somehow did the same concept better than an actual Hollywood produced film. It's so sad that production was rushed to the point of basic editing mistakes and mistakes in general are left in. Even the ending where the characters hold up "The End" signs feels like this is a cheap high school production instead of a Hollywood movie.

This movie has several problems. As I've said the production is cheap with songs that are nothing but filler and at times have noticeable mistakes, Josh is a very boring character with an uninteresting romance in Azalea, Jodie makes you wonder why they wanted Elvis to play two characters when one of them doesn't even do that much, and they outright insult Southerners by using very cliched stereotypes.

So why do I like this movie in spite of these problems? Because the story has enough good elements that you can actually fix the problems without having to completely change the movie. It's like a Clambake in that I would consider the highlights to be enough to cover the glaring errors in it. If this movie had a different production team or a better budget I would say this story is one of the better ones for an Elvis movie. Therefore I would give this movie a 7/10. This is a movie that best exemplifies how Colonel's interference directly hurt a movie that otherwise would've been great. I highly recommend watching it so you get the perspective of how poorly Hollywood thought of Southerners, yet still have the Tatum family feel like real people.

AN: Shout out to the discord besties for providing commentary about how the Tatum family showcased the bad light Hollywood painted the South in. Especially @grizelda71-blog. Your notes in particular helped me see both the good and the bad in this movie. Also shout out to @smokeymountainboy for your work as Jodie inspiring me to review this movie this month.

Tagging: @arrolyn1114, @thedaisymaisy, @that-hotdog, @peaceloveelvis, @imaginationlast, @fuzzymusic94, @helen06dreamer, @sfull12345, @briefpandatimemachine, @alittlemoreelvis, @lynettethemadscientist, @motht-eeth, @ash-omalley, @spooky-hazex, @teamnefarious, @blighted-star, @ab4eva, @oh-my-front-door, @father-of-2cats, @atleastpleasetelephone, @xanatenshi, @crazymadpassionatelove, @burnthheparaphilia, @aliengoth3 @stormie-ryan23, @yksuwyksud, @tacozebra051, @alienelvisobsession, @vintageoldsoul, @ohmygiddd, @lovininapinkcadillac, @stephthestallion, @mistyspresley, @bisexualwvtson, @ahundredlifetime, @karel-in-wonderland, @elvispresleywife, @georgefairbrother, @moonchild-daniella, @musiclover712, @worldofyns, @sillybookmarks, @g00d2balive, @leighpc, @generoustreemystic, @peskybedtime, @thetaoofzoe, @renegadewarrior, @vintagepresley, @tupelomiss, @myradiaz, @pinkcaddyconfessions, @kiankiwi, @presley72elvis, @delulubutidontcare, @januarypresley1969, @livelaughelvis, @hooked-on-elvis, @slayingjd, @ilivebecauseiamforced, @dusintv, @cattcb, @eapep, @jaqueline19997, @richardslady121, @iloveelvis2, @lett-them-eatt-cake, @if-i-can-dream-of-elvis, and @lookingforrainbows.

[hrhmiat]

Tall drink of water....

I've often wondered when Michael started recognizing Mia as not just his annoying little sister's best friend but the girl who makes his "heart sing." He freaking writes a song about how much he likes her and feels unseen!!! THEN SANG IT TO HER AFTER THE DANCE WHEN LILLY WAS SLEEPING!!! This scene is certainly underrated. Tall drink of water Can't say how much you want her How long you've tried to stay cool But she doesn't even see you Wait for her in the lobby Your knees are getting wobbly She glides by in her pink dress Towers over all the rest

Hands starting to get sweaty You really think you're ready To take a little walk over there Tell her how much you care What will you say now Will she make your day now She looks this way now Get moving, don't delay now

You think you're ready for your close-up But she's not China doll made-up Or picture-perfect teacup She's more real than any girl you've ever seen You're not gonna make it But this is it, you just can't fake it She's the girl who makes your heart sing Means more to you than anything

She's a tall drink of water Can't say how much you want her How long you've tried to stay cool But she doesn't even see you Okay, so if you're still reading this, AMAZING! :) Thank you! I went down a rabbit hole this morning.... While I wish I had the musical talent to bring this song alive, sadly, I do not. So, this is probably the most self-indulgent thing I've ever done without being the creator or paying someone to create it for me. I usually only play around with AI for fun, silly nonsense. Like asking ChatGPT what I should make for dinner or what is the best brownie mix on the internet? That sorta thing. Today, however.... I dove into a place I NEVER thought I'd end up.... AI music. While I could go into the MANY reasons why AI is horrible for the art/music industry, it can be a tool. Today, I decided to play around with AI music just to listen to what the song would sorta sound like if it came to life. I 100000% support commissioning, but this was purely for entertainment purposes only. I, unfortunately, do not have the money to pay someone to make a whole song from the lyrics! I WISH .... when I win the lottery, I'll do it! Knowing that this won't go viral, nor will I ever post it anywhere else. I just wanted to share this with my group of PD friends. This is just my goofy self geeking out over a fictional character's song lyrics. After much trial and error, I think this sounds well-suited for Michael's first song. (Personally, I think it would probably be way better if some hot musical genius created it, but it's cute enough. :))

What do you think?

[best-underrated-anime]

Best Underrated Anime Group C Round 2: #C1 vs #C2

#C1: Friendship over nostalgia for the past, and moving forward

#C2: High social anxiety girl has to befriend her whole class

Details and poll under the cut!

#C1: After the Rain (Koi wa Ameagari no You ni)

Summary:

Akira Tachibana, a reserved high school student and former track runner, has not been able to race the same as she used to since she experienced a severe foot injury. And although she is regarded as attractive by her classmates, she is not interested in the boys around school.

While working part-time at the Garden Cafe, Akira begins to develop feelings for the manager—a 45-year-old man named Masami Kondou—despite the large age gap. Kondou shows genuine concern and kindness toward the customers of his restaurant, which, while viewed by others as soft or weak, draws Akira to him. Spending time together at the restaurant, they grow closer, which only strengthens her feelings. Weighed down by these uncertain emotions, Akira finally resolves to confess, but what will be the result?

Alternatively: The main girl works at a diner and misses being able to run. Main guy is the boss at the diner and misses writing.

Propaganda:

It feels like a lot of folks didn’t give this a fair chance because they thought it would be an age gap romance, when it really is more about friendship between the MCs. Don’t be turned off by the opening. It’s cute, but all from MG’s POV. The art is pretty, and Aimer’s “Ref: rain” is one of my favourite songs now, besides it being a beautiful ending theme. Depending on how old you are, you might relate more with one MC over the other.

Trigger Warnings: One-sided age gap. Depending on your views, MC’s friendship with her boss could be uncomfortable

#C2: Hitori Bocchi’s ○○ Lifestyle (HitoriBocchi no MaruMaru Seikatsu)

Summary:

Many of us know what it is like to transition to a new school with few to no friends in a new environment, going through the arduous process of getting to know people again. Bocchi Hitori knows this struggle all too well, having just graduated from elementary school and thrown into middle school. Unfortunately, she suffers from extreme social anxiety: she faints when overwhelmed, vomits when nervous, and draws up ridiculously convoluted plans to avoid social contact. It does not help that her only friend from elementary school, Kai Yawara, will not be attending the same middle school as Bocchi. However, wanting to help her, Kai severs ties with Bocchi and promises to reconcile with her when she befriends all of her classmates in her new middle school class.

Even though Bocchi has no faith in herself, she is determined to be friends with Kai again. Summoning all of her courage, Bocchi takes on the daunting challenge of making friends with her entire class, starting with the delinquent-looking girl sitting in front of her…

Propaganda:

This is a fun and lighthearted show. Watch it if you need something cute to chill out! The art is cute and colorful, the music lively, and the animation fine enough.

As it's adapted from a four-panel gag manga, the story is simple and focuses on the various characters. They all have pun-based names related to their main personality trait, so they're easy to remember if you know some basic Japanese (Hitori Bocchi means all alone, for example). The girls are all adorable and fun in their own quirky ways, and I loved seeing the heroine doing her utmost best to overcome her fears -and other challenges- to befriend them in the hope of fulfilling her promise. That's the power of the Do-Your-Best Fairy! They all care for each other (despite some teasing) and help Bocchi with her monumental task, never pulling her down for her struggles but gently pushing her in the back when needed.

But most importantly, Hitori Bocchi is a very relatable character. As someone suffering the same trouble, I related a lot with Bocchi, from her silliest worries to her escalating panic and weird schemes in an attempt to prevent anything wrong. Anxiety is faithfully represented, mixed with the right amount of laughing to how far Bocchi can get to avoid fearful situations in her very cute ways. It feels good to see a character like me in a such positive light! The struggles are real and acknowledged, and it’s really moving to see our heroine overcome them little by little in a very humanizing way.

This series has become one of my comfort materials, and I come back to it when I need hope and inspiration in everyday social interactions! If you need one last thing to be convinced, listen to that most adorable and silly song that will give you the Power of Motivation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGoGwlNmZUQ 

Trigger Warnings: None.

When reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

If you want to criticize one of the shows above to give the one you’re rooting for an advantage, then do so constructively. I do not tolerate groundless hate or slander on this blog. If I catch you doing such a thing in the notes, be it in the tags or reblogs, I will block you.

Know one of the shows above and not satisfied with how they’re presented in this tournament? Just fill up this form, where you can submit revisions for taglines, propaganda, trigger warnings, and/or video.

[theduckeminence]

So I believe I have decided Piandao’s fate for the Avatar!Pakku au (made some alterations to the au so here we go)

WARNING: This contains references/mentions of pro/stitution, r/ape, and death.

In this au, Piandao is the son of footsoldier Masao of the Fire Nation and an earth nation civilian named Citra.

Masao met Citra in the Gaojing Red Light District within the fire colony of the Hu Xin Provinces. Citra was a low-ranking prostitute in the impoverished parts of the district, hence why Masao was able to afford spending the evening with her.

When Citra found out she was pregnant, she couldn’t afford any sort of medicines or proper remedies in order to rid the child. So she had no choice but to go through with it.

When Piandao was born, his mother decided upon caring for him anyways, hoping that maybe if she can work harder, she can care for both her and her child.

Unfortunately, when Piandao was only 5-6 years old, he found his mother brutally assaulted and dead in her room after spending the evening with one customer. He recalled her yelling, but wasn’t aware that it were yells for help.

Following her passing, he became an obedient, silent ghost—wandering around and accepting any sort of small job offered by pitying House owners. Usually as a very minor Wakaimono or male servant. He rarely ever interacts with the courtesans and mainly cleans.

During his time as a servant, Piandao could only earn just enough to feed and shelter himself, hence constantly working hard everyday. He only wore the baggy uniform given to him by his bosses and the rags he had been wearing since he grew out kg a bundle

He never really interacts with other kids since he had mostly seen girls attending to the courtesans and rarely any boys his age. Either way, most kids found him too quiet or shy to talk to.

He could never speak, no matter how hard he tried, though it wasn’t so much of an issue as long as he does his work and earns his pay. There were a few occasions however some adults would complain about his lack of word (He was nonverbal at the time, but didn’t know).

Piandao admired and loved listening and watching the Geishas play/sing their songs as well as other types of performing arts. He finds that it helps motivate him to do work and appreciate the arts more (a small part of him wished to learn something like that).

At the age of 9, Piandao meets a man by the name of Master Eun-U—a highly regarded swordsman. When upon seeing the young boy work, Eun-U asked the owners if he may have the boy.

The owners, of course, were not too easy on handing their servant over to a stranger (as Eun-U was in disguise). But with a nice sum paid to them, the owners happily sold away their servant boy.

Eun-U brings a confused, yet quiet Piandao home to the small town of Nashikami—which close by to the hidden Herbalist Institute. From here on, Eun-U has Piandao work as his helper/assistance—while allowing him to live within his small, yet comfortable home.

The older man also teaches the boy how to read and write in both western Earth Kingdom Dialect and Fire Nation. This is what later on leads to Piandao to speak out loud.

This is remarkably the first time Piandao had ever fitted into cleaner, more fitting clothing while also eating a hot meal with better quality tea on the side. The boy sobs when he realizes this one night during dinner.

Eventually, at some point, Eun-U decides upon teaching Piandao how to swordfight in case of defense and combat—wanting the boy to reach for that unused potential.

Over time, as Piandao stayed with Eun-U—the older man saw Piandao as both a pupil and a son, whereas the boy viewed the swordsman as a father figure.

[wakemeupinmay]

My thoughts on the Eurovision songs this year

1. 🇦🇱 Albania - Duje - Albina & Familja Kelmendi

VERY dramatic, but I could shake my ass to the part in which she isn’t singing

2. 🇦🇲 Armenia - Future Lover - Brunette

„I just wanna make art, read books, be loved and called a good girl“ okay ma'am that’s everyone ur not special

3. 🇦🇺 Australia - Promise - Voyager

Do we know why they are headbanging this much? It couldn’t be bc of this song right?

4. 🇦🇹 Austria - Who the hell is Edgar? - Teya & Salena

Not often is a song made spicier by adding some church singing

5. 🇦🇿 Azerbaijan - Tell me more - TuralTuranX

I have just watched the video for the third time and I start to suspect that there is more than one guy singing, I could be wrong tho

6. 🇧🇪 Belgium - Because of you - Gustaph

He looks like a gay musketeer + weirdly enough this song doesn’t make me want to dance, it makes me want to walk???

7. 🇭🇷 Croatia - Mama ŠČ - Let 3

Thankfully for them I love chaos and not knowing what is going on, BUT I did get scared for a second when they undressed

8. 🇨🇾 Cyprus - Break a broken heart - Andrew Lambrou

I am mesmerized but that won’t get me to like the song :/

9. 🇨🇿 Czechia - My sister‘s crown - Vesna

Idk guys, is this a good song or does it just have a good message? It doesn’t bop for me, I’m so sorry I tried

10. 🇩🇰 Denmark - Breaking my heart - Reiley

Okay, do we also have a version in which we can hear his voice in the chorus better? Thanks, the distorted one playing over his singing is a no no. I dig the outfit tho 10/10 very cute

11. 🇪🇪 Estonia - Bridges - Alika

Don’t worry guys, Estonia is bringing the compulsory piano to the contest this year

12. 🇫🇮 Finland - Cha Cha Cha - Käärijä

Very entertaining and very eurovision by the hulk goblin king, very appreciated by me :)

13. 🇫🇷 France - Évidemment - La Zarra

This. woman. has. the. most. snatched. waist. I. have. ever. seen. Other than that, once again France does what it does best, which is being french

14. 🇬🇪 Georgia - Echo - Iru

Did she get turned into a white worm halfway through? + They surely get the award of „lyrics that make the least sense“ this year. „THIS FEELING IS LORD“

15. 🇩🇪 Germany - Blood & Glitter - Lord of the lost

So happy for Germany leaving its shell for once but maybe reconsider the red latex suit. Otherwise they are really cute and make me smile

16. 🇬🇷 Greece - What they say - Victor Vernicos

How did Greece get Tom Shelby’s son dressed like a school boy from the 1940ies to sing about his hurt feelings?

17. 🇮🇸 Iceland - Power - Diljá

So sad Iceland couldn’t keep up the streak of rly good entries. Unfortunately this song holds no PPPPower over me

18. 🇮🇪 Ireland - We are one - Wild Youth

Don’t worry guys, our knights in shining masks are here to save us. Not rly tho, the song is not that much fun :/

19. 🇮🇱 Israel - Unicorn - Noa Kirel

A song called Unicorn has no business being this serious

20. 🇮🇹 Italy - Due vite - Marco Mengoni

What can I tell u…. It’s definitely Italys entry + Does he sound like an italian Michael Jackson???

21. 🇱🇻 Latvia - Aijā - Sudden Lights

The last time I saw lights like these on stage Germany got 0 points, be careful Latvia

22. 🇱🇹 Lithuania - Stay - Monika Linkytė

What does Čiūto tūto mean?

23. 🇲🇹 Malta - Dance (our own party) - The Busker

I see you Malta, trying to have your own little epic sax moment

24. 🇲🇩 Moldova - Soarele si Luna - Pasha Parfeni

This felt like a spiritual fever dream + gotta love the nuns in the crowd

25. 🇳🇱 Netherlands - Burning Daylight - Mia Nicolai & Dion Cooper

This song is all the stages of grief I go through once my favourite does not win eurovision

26. 🇳🇴 Norway - Queen of Kings - Alessandra

Aye aye captain we stan! BUT I would have looooved if the show (costumes, dance,…) were a cringey eurovisiony pirate thing

27. 🇵🇱 Poland - Solo - Blanka

Why is it giving parody of rich spoiled brat that thinks she can sing bc daddy said so?

28. 🇵🇹 Portugal - Ai Coração - Mimicat

I like it, it’s not a ballad and fun also she looks exactly how I would imagine a Mimicat

29. 🇷🇴 Romania - D.G.T. (Off and On) - Theodor Andrei

I didn’t expect to be going to an underage bondage strip club tonight.

30. 🇸🇲 San Marino - Like an animal - Piqued Jacks

He is giving me mixed signals. Am I sexy Aphrodite or do I stink and am poisonous? Why is he chasing me? Is that good or bad? I’m worried

31. 🇷🇸 Serbia - Samo mi she spava - Luke Black

He is very much Melovin coded but I do connect with the message an awful lot

32. 🇸🇮 Slovenia - Carpe Diem - Joker Out

It’s good, I get the hype, curious what they’ll do on stage tho

33. 🇪🇸 Spain - Eaea - Blanca Paloma

Is it allowed to perform religious rituals on stage?

34. 🇸🇪 Sweden - Tattoo - Loreen

After that huge TV fell on that one kpop performers head this performance makes me extra nervous

35. 🇨🇭 Switzerland - Watergun - Remo Forrer

Don’t worry Remo, Switzerland is one of the safest countries on earth

36. 🇺🇦 Ukraine - Heart of Steel - Tvorchi

I think I have never been more surprised by a country sending a generic pop song. Or maybe it was to be expected the most rn. It’s not bad by any means but also def not a winner and everyone knows that

37. 🇬🇧 United Kingdom - I wrote a song - Mae Muller

If I don’t see the name Mae Muller on the writing credits to this song I will absolutely throw a fit

(List of videos I watched)

[popblank]

Year-end roundup of theater I saw in 2023:

I saw a lot this year (29 unique shows with a couple of repeats). Part of the reason is probably that I spent money on tickets more freely because I was working a lot more than usual.

Notes or links to separate posts below:

Mean Girls (tour; Pantages) – The strengths are in the original movie material and added character development, while the music is just enough to support the story. Fun, though not sure I'd call it good.

Topdog/Underdog (Broadway) – Fantastic performances from both Corey Hawkins and Yahya Abdul-Mateen II. Not particularly interested in con artist/gambler storylines but it fit the themes.

A Strange Loop (Broadway) – Amazing, totally get why it won Best Musical. Viewing experience was enhanced by a responsive audience. I'm excited to see it in LA and crossing my fingers that it gets a decent reception.

Kimberly Akimbo (Broadway) – Hadn't read much about it and was unprepared for how funny it was and how strong the cast was across the board. Favorite little absurdity was how the show choir kids are slowly drawn into Debra's scheme. The cast recording captures a decent part of the humor and was my most-played album in 2023.

Merrily We Roll Along (Off-Broadway) – Not sure I can imagine a better casting for Franklin Shepard than Jonathan Groff.

Wicked (Broadway) – Hadn't seen it in over a decade and felt like revisiting. It was fine; Elphaba and Fiyero seemed to have good chemistry.

Leopoldstadt (Broadway) – If I had the time and money I would just follow Caissie Levy and Brandon Uranowitz around to see whatever they are in. In a 2+ hour show with no intermission I never got bored.

Frozen (tour; Segerstrom) – Had previously seen this pre-pandemic so most of the cast had changed, though Caroline Bowman was still Elsa and was good. A number of the new cast seemed very young.

The Secret Garden (Ahmanson)

Kristina Wong, Sweatshop Overlord (Kirk Douglas)

The Lonely Few (2x) (Geffen Playhouse)

Sunday in the Park with George (Pasadena Playhouse) – First time I’ve ever seen this show (or listened to the music with any level of attention), and while I enjoyed it for the most part—particularly Act 1—I really struggled to care about modern George’s professional and personal difficulties in creating his art. I did like the music and can’t say I was ever bored, but in the end I was (to my surprise) thoroughly unmoved. One notable thing was that the sound in the theater was great. Everything was remarkably clear and I could understand all of the rapid-fire lyrics very well considering I was not very familiar with the music.

Twilight: Los Angeles 1992 (Mark Taper Forum) – Staged with multiple actors; unfortunately I don't remember much about it as I did not take any notes.

1776 (2x)

Kiss of the Spider Woman (A Noise Within) – The play, not the musical. Enjoyed it, thought Molina in particular was well performed.

Six (tour, Pantages) – Had listened to the studio cast recording and enjoyed it but the songs do tend to work better with the little bit of context provided by the show.

A Little Night Music (Pasadena Playhouse) – Another first-time Sondheim show for me; I liked the music (more so than Sunday in the Park With George), acting was strong, but I had difficulty caring much about the interpersonal drama.

A Soldier's Play (tour, Ahmanson) – Didn't take notes afterward; mostly I remember that Norm Lewis's speaking voice is startlingly resonant.

Tina (tour, Pantages) – Saw this only a few weeks after her death; the Playbill cover had been redesigned to acknowledge it and I think the cast and audience were still feeling that impact. It was pretty good for a straight-ahead biographical jukebox musical.

A Transparent Musical

Into the Woods

Beetlejuice

Les Misérables (tour, Pantages) – Heard the latest tour cast was really good, and it was; it hit the emotional beats well. Particularly liked Fantine (here's a local morning-show performance of "I Dreamed a Dream"), Javert, and Valjean, actually liked Gavroche for a change, and this production got rid of a character direction I absolutely hated (Grantaire's melodramatic wail after the "Little People" reprise).

Heroes of the Fourth Turning

Peter Pan Goes Wrong (Ahmanson) – Entertaining and funny though didn't quite hit my sense of humor dead on.

Here Lies Love (Broadway) – Was really glad to have the opportunity to see this because I missed the original production 10 years ago and regretted it. Sat in the front mezzanine which seemed just fine and provided an overall good view of the action in almost every direction. Particularly liked Conrad Ricamora (very charismatic) as Ninoy Aquino and Jose Llana as Marcos. Staging, audience participation, projections, etc. were essential to communicating the message of the show. I like the music and have the original cast recording but it would be very easy to misunderstand the tone from only listening to the recording.

The Sound Inside (Pasadena Playhouse) – Saw this in the middle of being swamped at work so my memory of this is a bit sparse. I remember being uncertain of how to react at the end of the show (same for the audience I was in) but thinking about it afterward the ideas and themes came together more clearly.

A Christmas Story (Ahmanson) – A pleasant and family-friendly show; lots of kids in the cast. Have never seen the movie. There were some high points (e.g. the big tap number featuring Miss Shields and a bunch of children singing "You'll Shoot Your Eye Out" as Prohibition-era gangsters and flappers) but I was bored for a good portion of the show. The portrayal of motherhood is very traditional.

MJ the Musical (tour; Pantages) – Was wondering how Lynn Nottage would handle the book. At first the "in rehearsal for the Dangerous tour" setup seemed like an interesting framing, but ultimately I don't think it went anywhere interesting dramatically or emotionally, or communicated much that wasn't already known even to non-Michael Jackson fans. The part from the Tony Awards performance is the high point of the show IMO.

[calypsocoverpg]

[Fern, 23, she/her, GMT] is that Fionn Aubin? They bear a striking resemblance to Luka Sabbat. I heard he is a 22 year old human who lives in Barnstaple Point. Word has it they are a Barista/Bartender at The Catch. Hopefully they don’t believe all the myths…

Born in Paris and raised in Los Angeles, Fionn was a child born with a weight of ambition thrust on him even before he could talk or walk. His parents were both successful - his father a plastic surgeon, his mother a professor of history at UCLA - and his sister, a few years older, had set the bar high with prodigal results in literacy and maths. They assumed that their son would follow in their footsteps, be intelligent, be above average at the very least. Unfortunately, they would shortly become disappointed. 

Fionn never really expressed an interest in achieving anything, period. He simply wasn’t interested in school, nor in the extracurricular activities he was pushed toward attending, nor in college or any kind of career. He seemed to live in his own dream world, fuelled by a naive understanding that everything would simply work out just fine regardless of the effort he put in to make things happen. He coasted through middle and high school with barely average grades, slumping to a full out fail at times, doodling on his test sheets and staring out the window when attempts were made to tutor him. It would be different, his mother informed him exasperatedly, if he’d gone off the rails, picked up bad habits from some bad influences around him, underage drank and got a girl pregnant. Or if he expressed a desire to pursue some sort of career in the arts or other path they might have disapproved of. Then they might have had a reason to pin onto his being a disappointment. But there was none of that. He simply did not care nor think about the future. He daydreamed and seemed to misunderstand that time was passing and he was, in their thoughts, ruining his life. None of Fionn’s pastimes were ones he thought of as careers - he played guitar in a few high school bands, but refused to study it further, instead writing his own interesting songs without much care for where it could take him. He read about birds, but never chose to apply himself to biology nor to actually studying the subject. He skateboarded and surfed infrequently, but that wasn’t exactly a career choice. Fionn, in their view, had no prospects. 

His parents decided that enough was enough. Fionn had been given the chance to choose his own future, and he had no decision at all to give them. Fionn was uprooted and moved to a different town, far away from any distractions, to an expensive prep school designed to walk him hand in hand through exams and force him into a better academic situation. If they couldn’t convince Fionn to work at his future, perhaps they could force his hand. But naturally, doing so alienated him even more. He never felt loved by his parents, never felt like he was supported or appreciated unless he fit their mold of what they wanted their son to be. And try as he might, he could never hope to reach the levels of achievement they expected. When high school, an ordeal for him, finally ended he knew he would only be expected to continue onto college, despite his abject lack of desire for an education. When they took him to view a campus, Fionn felt the urge to run away so strongly that he ate a pack of peanut butter cups in the bathroom just to cut the visit short via epipen. He knew now that he had no other option, no way he would ever be good enough - and so at nearly nineteen, Fionn borrowed five hundred dollars from his older sister and used it to get the fuck out.

By which he meant, drive until he found somewhere to stop. And he was nearly out of gas by the time he made it to Calypso Cove, so he counted himself lucky. Fionn’s feelings of being outcast from his family seemed to make the enchantment lift, allowing him as a human to enter the town - although naturally, he wasn’t aware of it at the time. He took a job at The Catch, wanting to be on the beach, and managed to give a full months rent on an apartment nearby, only to be shell shocked when he was asked to make a drink for a vampire on his first day. But Fionn was happy to learn these new things, take it all in. Anything to avoid his previous life.

[shintin]

Table No.13

↳ Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

One-shot 

Summary:  It's 4 in the morning, the end of December. You run to the airport, wearing your famous blue raincoat. Water's dripping out of your hair. It's raining out there. Tokyo is freezing. But it doesn't matter, because you are leaving. But tell me, when did you become brave enough to put it all behind you and walk away as if it wasn't just a desperate bluff?

This is the story of a girl who gets stabbed by the hands of her blue-eyed past, with no questions asked.

Word count: 9.5 k

Warnings: Heavy angst, NSFW content, No character death.

Note: ARTS ARE NOT MINE.

Song Recommendation: Ocie Elliott - Run To You & Mahsun Kırmızıgül - Belalım

Go back to the master list.

You looked out the large glass window of Haneda Airport. The sky was tar-black, and big pillows of cloud were forming, blotting out the old-gold color of the sun. It started as a whisper in the air. You could hear the taps on the window, and then it became a pitter-patter. Up to now, the sky had been postcard-perfect, but it was changing. The beautiful cocktail-crimson hue of the morning was beginning to darken into gravel-grey. The puddles began plinking as the rainfall became heavier. The rain was dancing on the rooftops of airplanes, as if nothing in life mattered at the moment. But unfortunately, that didn't apply to you. There were still things you cared about. As a matter of fact, one of them was sitting before you at table 13, in the coziest spot of the airport, but you preferred to listen to the buzzing murmurs of the rain rather than look at him.

"Come on, Chibi! Don't sulk. Everything will be fine," said Satoru gently, taking your hand in his. He didn't know whether it was possible, but he was willing to do anything for you. You were the best thing that ever happened to him. "Now, you better eat your strawberry cake, or I'll eat it. Do you want me to end up with diabetes?" He was joking; although it was silly, he tried to lighten your mood. But according to your facial features, his efforts seemed not very fruitful.

His thumb caressed the ring on your finger, followed by his lips. "Y/N," he called your name as if it were the only holy word he knew in the world. "No one else can have my heart because you're the only one I love."

The sound faded into a long swirling noise with so much rain falling. Clouds were churlish and Kraken-cruel. It poured into a biblical deluge, flooding the rivers, drowning the fields, and overflowing the dams, reminding you of the cataclysm of Noah's ark. You wished for an endless cataract of water sluicing from the sky. The ache in your heart wanted the trees to uproot, the cars to go bobbing by, the entire villages disappearing.

You turned your face and gazed at his eyes. God, you loved them. They held the whole ocean. When he was happy, they were a clear, radiant blue with slight wrinkles around the corners as he laughed or smiled, and there was no trace of a storm.

But when he was sad? Oh, it was a completely different matter. They turned icy, cold, totally unlike him, blazing with sorrow. There were a few clouds, but mostly just ice. They hurt you the most that you could never forget.

"Satoru, I don't -" Your sentence never ended because he was shattered enough by the sadness bathing your eyes to let you do more harm by transforming them into words. In his opinion, you were everything he wanted, but unfortunately, his family didn't think so. Those ancient walking fossils thought that the heir of the Gojo company should be with someone who would bring benefits to their family and help their business grow. Therefore, even mentioning your name, a common girl without a noble background, was considered a disgrace. Satoru, however, was not the type to retreat. He would give up everything, but not you. He interrupted your words. "I'll never let anyone take you away from me," he murmured, and cupped your face with his big hands. "I love you, Y/N." You heard him. "I'll love you forever." You believed him. "I'll never leave you." You took his words for granted.

Eventually, the noise lessened, and the drops faded into a musical chime. The sun came out again, casting diagonal beams of light across the airstrip.

Fear crept through you, so you kissed him. With love. With lust. With…

You felt his hands surrounding your body, but you wanted more. You needed more. You knew you had to save him for your future days. The days that you would yearn for a bit of touch from him, but a famine would devastate you. You had to scrape off that painful itch in your gut. "I love you, too, Satoru."

You felt his grip on your neck as he pulled you in to capture you for a deeper kiss. Your hands went to caress the back of his neck, tangle your fingers in his silky white locks, and feel his pulse hammering against your palm. Soon he found the taste of salt on his tongue, and the wet drops falling on his cheeks inflamed his flesh. He didn't know whose they were as he continued to try and cling onto you like his subconscious knew it was your last time together.

That day, he left Tokyo for Sendai with high hopes, and you made your way to Osaka. Your hometowns.

You were late. Too late. Why did you always wait till the last moment? You promised you would cut this vicious cycle of being late each time, but it seemed you would end yourself, but not mend.

It was raining as if it was doomsday. The torrential rains had closed the streets, and Tokyo was dealing with heavy early traffic. Cursing yourself, you stepped out of the cab and rushed to the airport with your luggage. You ran to the check-in section without wasting time and promptly put your luggage and backpack on the conveyor. Hurrying back to the control gate, you removed your watch and phone, and left them on the table for security to check.

Attention passengers on Fuji Dream Airlines flight 232 to Okinawa. The departure gate has been changed. The flight will now be leaving from gate 26.

Biting the corner of your lip, you waited for the previous person to get through the body scan, praying for the machine not to beep for you. Each beep and red signal meant a more thorough physical inspection, which would certainly make you miss the flight.

Closing your eyes, you went across the scanner. It was as if the gods were in your favor today. The machine gave no warning, and the officer let you pass by with a smile. You nodded, snatched your belongings, and raced to grab your bags. After all, every second was golden.

Like an automatic robot that memorized the process due to frequent repetitions, your body quickly moved towards the ticket counter. You were panting and searching for your ID card in your messy backpack when the sound of the announcement caught your attention.

Amakusa Airlines regrets to announce the delay of light 4022 to Osaka due to departing at 4:15. This flight is now scheduled to depart at 6:30.

Shit. Shit. Shit. The 'L' in your luck had been replaced with an 'F'.

With pursed lips, you raised your head, and your eyes fixated on the yellow DELAY in front of the Tokyo-Osaka flight information. You sighed and looked at your watch; its hands showed 4:00 am. Oh, well! You had to stay here for the next couple of hours.

A drop of water dripped from your hair on your wrist, just to remind you that you had come out of the rain shower a few minutes ago. Only a fool leaves with no umbrella in the fall. All right, no argument. It sounds like you were a chump.

You turned your head around to pick your next destination. It's not like you didn't notice people's judgmental looks on your wet hair and soaked raincoat. But today, you were tough enough with yourself, and oh, to be fair, you didn't give a fuck about them. You hated all that had a bitter taste of standards and traditions.

Do this, do that.

Wear kimono, not jeans.

Walk with small steps.

Don't laugh out loud.

Only whores lick ice cream in public.

Instead of reading, start cooking.

Men prefer women with long hair.

Ugh! You were disgusted by all these dos and don'ts. So, it seemed pretty normal for you never to miss the opportunity to despise old-minded schnooks. This hatred was a daily routine. After all, you had lost everything because of those imbecile tradition sucker maniacs. You had lost him. Why? Just because you didn't fit into their boxes. And it's not like you were hard-headed. You tried to adapt yourself to everything for him, your…your love, but according to those geezers, people are born as nobles. It is not an acquired trait. Assholes!

You took off your blue raincoat, threw it on your arm, and headed to the graveyard of your memories in the company of your dear luggage. As usual, you walked into his favorite coffee shop and ordered a mocha with caramel. It tasted like the old days. Bittersweet. More bitter now, because the past had hidden nothing but pain for you, yet you never wasted time returning to it. Unfortunately, it was the only place you could be with him. You were a prisoner of the past by your own will. You had the key, but nothing was out there waiting for you.

You were successful and independent now. Exactly as you always wanted. You even captured the memory of those days and placed them in a box. You put them there with photographs, his grandmother's ring, and dried bouquets. The box was their coffin, and you set them to rest with the same reverence as a deceased loved one. The funeral came with tears and trauma, no less than actual death.

Now tell me, darling, you could hide a box under the ground and pretend that it never existed, but you knew the echo of his laughter, the blue sky of his eyes, and the sweet taste of his lips would rise from the tomb amidst the long nights to hunt you till the first rays of twilight.

While waiting for your order to be ready, you turned your head and watched the determined people carrying their bags around.

There was something peculiarly depressing about the airports for you. Maybe it was because the airports were where the final goodbyes were muttered, and it was where your lips and his met for the very last time. Airports were where tear-ridden farewells were spluttered. And it was where you looked over your shoulder one last time as you passed through the security, praying, hoping against hope that maybe it wasn't really happening, that you would see him again.

The barista called your name and snapped you out of your thoughts. Holding your precious coffee in your hands, your steps unknowingly walked you to table 13. Again. Yeah, you used to sit here with him. Every time. Even the last time.

A bitter smile appeared on your lips as you slowly ran your hand across the table, as if your fingertips could touch the past. You sat in your usual chair behind the side table, but your eyes still refused to look at his empty seat after six fucking years. Your hands wrapped around the paper cup of coffee to steal its warmth, while your heart found comfort in watching the rainy sky.

"There is something I have to tell you, Y/N." He took a deep breath, probably the deepest, which brought his lungs to the verge of explosion.

The cold breeze slipped into your room and sent shivers down to your core. You went to the window to close it. The anxiety started circulating in your veins like a deadly poison. "T—tell me," you said, closing your eyes. No good would come of "I have to tell you something".

His heart twisted at the sound of your voice. "This isn't working out for me anymore."

His emotionless monotonous tone over the phone struck you harder than a wet slap. Rubbing your forehead, you pressed your lips together, praying for him not to mean what you feared the most. "Yeah, me neither." You swallowed, and the gulp slit your throat like a broken piece of a sharp crystal. "I miss you too, Satoru."

You weren't an idiot. You just read an article in Forbes saying that thoughts can change reality. Simply put, the brain can create delusions in the mind by denying the truth until the last moment to maintain the mental health of human beings. It is considered a survival instinct, and so far, your mind has been doing an excellent job. But the silence behind the phone revealed a different story. A story that even your brain couldn't manipulate.

"You know what I mean, Y/N." His voice trembled like a flickering flame of a burning candle, but he was fast to cover his mouth with his palm. He didn't want you to get wind of anything. It was for your own good.

"What are you saying?"

Your kind tone made Satoru hate his guts. No! He couldn't do this to you. He raised his head, and his red-rimmed eyes begged for mercy from his father, but he wasn't a man of God. He wouldn't give alms for free. Everything, especially your life, had a price, and he had to pay the cost. "I—I thought," his words refused to come out, but he always wanted the best for you, didn't he? He loved you more than anything, so he had to do this. He had to go through with it, no matter how hard it was for him. "I thought I was in love with you, but it was just a lie." Unable to breathe, he made his way towards the big window of the office. The cold air hit his face as soon as his shaky hands opened it. Was it freezing in Osaka like it was in Kyoto? You hated the cold weather. Were you wearing warm clothes? He bit his fist in a failed attempt to hide the lump in his throat. "I thought it—would work, but—but I feel nothing."

"Wh—y are you doing this, Sato—?" When you spoke, it sounded like your voice was made of gravel. Your clear tone was undercut with a choking heaviness that forced you to pause several times. As clear as spring water, a single tear flowed down your cheeks. Eventually, you stopped trying and lowered your head in a quiet sob.

Satoru leaned his head against the cold glass. He could hear your muffled weeping. God, he hated himself. He hated the sunset outside. He hated his last name. He hated everything between the two of you. "I just wanted to fool around in your bed." He fought back his tears.

"I know you don't mean that," you said, shaking your head. The Prefrontal Cortex of your brain was in denial. "It's not true." You were soft, almost fragile, as if your heart would break any minute. Perhaps it was already broken.

"You know nothing," he raised his voice, banging his fist across the wall. "Have you forgotten who I am? The bottom line is— " A tear burned his cheek as he turned his back to his father. Despite the love you had given him, he had to tear your heart apart to keep you alive. "I never loved you!"

"I don't believe you." The phrases didn't come out sharp, as if your tongue had judged your own thoughts too uninterestingly daunting and abandoned the words before their fruition.

"I don't know how to clarify this to you, Y/N L/N! You mean nothing to me. You were only one of my conquests!" He was lying. Of course, he was lying. He loved you more than words could ever explain. Now he could hear your heartbreak, for he was suffering too.

"You're such a coward! Are you breaking up with me over the phone? With crappy explanations? Is this what you promised me at the airport?" As you spoke, your voice started sharp, but then, you broke down, and before Satoru knew it, you were on the verge of bursting into tears, trying desperately to hide it and keep your words straight and stern. "Tell me the truth! You owe me this, Satoru!"

His eyes widened. You knew him like an open palm. He was always his true self by your side, never afraid to be judged. And for a second, he believed he could tell you the truth, but then he remembered how the compensation was substantial. So he added the cherry on top, the ultimate lie, to make sure you would hate him, that you would hate him and move on. Although the thought of you being with someone else, another man holding your hands, or someone other than him kissing you drove him crazy, but this way, at least you were safe from his father's harm. "I cheated on you, and— and now I am in love with her. I can't get her out of my mind. She is so much better than you in bed, and she doesn't dictate me to quit smoking or eating sweets to become something I'm not! She is not a control freak like you! She doesn't suffocate me as you do!"

After your ears witnessed his words, you bled an ocean through your eyes. Your soul felt wafer thin. Your body trembled and chilled. But suddenly, you stopped crying. Maybe the saddest kind of sadness was yours when your tears refused to drip. It was like the world had ended. You couldn't cry. You couldn't hear. You couldn't see. You became an empty shell that once was full of life. "You're completely fucked up."

"I'm—sorry, Y/N." His lungs punished him. His breaths kept coming in short gasps. His chest felt too tight. He couldn't stop wheezing. There was a hole in his chest filling with emptiness, pain, and unbearable agony. His knees couldn't carry his sorrow. He fell on the empty office floor with his back sliding down the cold wall and silent tears on his cheeks. His beloved dad had left the room, knowing there was no comeback after what his son had fed you.

You could be hurt in any way by another and still bounce back, but he… but he… he did the far worse with just a few small words. "Never utter my name again! Don't you fucking dare to say it again! No!" The bells ringing in your head, you felt terrible pain as if someone had punched you in the stomach. You wrapped your arms around yourself, and your skin chilled from the unforgiving coldness of his tone. The teeth in your mouth chattered together relentlessly and uncontrollably, and you couldn't stop yourself from shaking. The next voice you heard wasn't him saying it was another one of his dumb jokes. No. It was the beep of the phone. He hung up and never said goodbye.

Suddenly the roar of the thunder brought you back to reality, to the airport. You turned your head towards the table and noticed that your hands were clasped around your coffee cup. The sound of raindrops hitting the window made your solitude even sadder. You sighed, turned your head, and your eyes fell on the droplets, sliding on the window, sticking one to another, getting bigger and bigger till falling. Those drops and your love were doomed, destined to descend. Because even when life decided to give you another chance, you became the naive victim of fate's cruel sense of humor.

"Where did I put this stupid piece of paper?" You cursed under your breath and continued looking for a copy of your graduation certificate. You knew your messy ass would get you in trouble one day, and here you were, facing the consequences in the worst way possible. How dumb you had to be to lose your diploma?

You closed your eyes and started rubbing your eyebrows, like Aladdin rubbing his lamb for a genie to come out and help him. But you weren't lucky as that bastard. You were responsible for your shits.

You sighed and stared at your laptop's browser screen. You got rid of everything related to college and those years. You wanted to forget everything about him and his cheating. You had changed your email address, phone number, and all means of reaching you after that incident. You didn't want to be haunted by an unwanted remembrance... of him.

You took a deep breath. It had been a year. But it seemed that even years were not enough to get over what he did to you. He shot you and walked out. You had to remove the fucking bullet from your wound to let the sadness come out. He left you on your own, and to be healed, you hurt yourself in ways he never could. Undoubtedly, one year wasn't enough to fade those scars.

You remembered how you sat in silence for days with tears in your eyes. How you ached and drank enough to numb it. How you reminded yourself every day who he used to be and who he no longer was. Damn! It was one of the most brutal realization you ever had. In the end, you thought you learned to live without him, but again, you never forgot him. That was the funny thing about love, because it took you a long time to endure the pain he caused, but a piece of him always remained within you. You couldn't brush off all the good memories you shared and sweep them under the rug as if they meant nothing. And shamelessly, you missed his touch. Oh, God. You missed the timbre of his voice and the solid sense of his embrace—the curse of a lover.

"No! Don't start again! He never loved you, Y/N!" You bumped your head, dispersing the suffocating thoughts, but like a miraculous blow that makes broken things work again, your brain also began working. The light bulb on your head lit up. Yeah. You had a backup of your documents in your academic email.

Proud of the discovery, your fingers started typing. Thank goodness you could remember your email info. Okay. It wasn't that difficult when the username was the combination of your first and last name, password, and ID number.

Once the green checkmark appeared on the screen, you happily started scrolling through your inbox until you noticed an unread email of a familiar name. A name you buried alongside his. Suguru Geto.

You swallowed and checked the date of the email. It belonged to the aftermath of the doomed incident. While your hands were frozen, your fingers began shivering on the mouse. It seemed like you could flee your past, but it would always catch up. Without noticing, you realized you had been biting your bottom lip the entire time. What was that email about? There were two options. One was to delete it without reading and keep on with your life. The next one was... You clicked on the mail.

Your pupils were moving quickly between the lines. The more you read the email, the tighter your grip on the mouse. Your other hand was on your thigh, clutching your dress firmly, to the extent your nails almost made holes in its soft fabric. With each word read, your right foot subconsciously tapped on the floor.

Satoru— tap.

Loves— tap.

You— tap.

But—tap.

His father—  tap, tap.

Threatened—tap

Him—tap

With—tap 

Your—tap

Life ….

Your foot froze in place. A chill ripped through your spine when you reached the end of the email. Your eyes widened from the shock, and your palm in front of your mouth couldn't cover your bewilderment.

You should have known. You had heard from Satoru how wretched his father was. You should have guessed that he would do anything to achieve his purpose. You should have doubted that he wouldn't spare even his child and wouldn't be afraid of getting his hands dirty. But you were the one who never wanted to believe in the ill-disposed nature. You thought even evils would have a red line they would never cross. But you didn't know parents would break all boundaries on the pretext of wanting the best for their child. Understandable. If he saw you as a snake coiled on his son's shoulders, he would obviously cut your head off. It was unfair, though. You were no snake. You never asked Satoru for anything. You never forced him to do anything. You took all his bad days with your good and walked him through the storm; because you loved him. You loved him unconditionally.

Tears poured from your eyes. All those endless pains, sleepless nights, and restless sorrows were all due to his father, not him. Satoru loved you. He must have suffered the whole time, as you did.

Your hand went to your phone, and your fingers dialed the number they refused to forget after a year. Your heart was a madman, beating the hell out of your chest. You couldn't wait to hear his voice and watch the heartache fade.

"The number you have dialed has been changed, disconnected, or is no longer in service. Please check the number and try your call again if you feel you reached this recording in error."

You lowered the phone and looked at the screen. It wasn't possible that you got the number wrong. Was your mind playing tricks on you? You dialed again.

"The number you have dialed has been changed, disconnected, or is no longer in service. Please check the number and try your call again if you feel you reached this recording in error."

You closed your eyes and pressed the red end button. He had changed his number. You turned your head and stared at the browser's blank page. Silly but possible, suddenly, a thought occurred to you. Something you had banned yourself from doing for a whole year. You looked up Satoru Gojo with the name of Gojo Holding on Google, and as you expected, you found what you were looking for:

Satoru Gojo – Chief financial officer – Gojo Group / LinkedIn

Your eyes were stuck on the monitor. So after you, he agreed to the position. You ran your finger over his name. Your eyes shifted slightly downward. There were pictures of him in suits shaking hands with different people. You looked at his face, white hair, blue eyes, and pale lips. He had changed. There was no trace of his favorite casual clothes.

Subconsciously, your hand moved toward the monitor, and your fingers attempted to caress his cheeks. His usual messy hair was combed in some photos and on the side in others. You smiled sadly. He looked handsome. You had no right to deny it. But something was missing from him. Your fingertip shifted to his lips. There was no smile on his face. In neither of the photographs. What had happened to that goofy Satoru whose grins were his signature?

You clicked on his LinkedIn page, and after finding his contact number, you dialed without hesitation.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Good day, you've reached Satoru Gojo's office. My name is Nitta Akari. How can I assist you?"

"Yes! Hello. My name is Y/N L/N. I'm calling for Mr. Satoru Gojo," you said and bit your nails.

"Concerning?"

"Yes, ma'am, I need to talk with Mr. Satoru Gojo." Every time you spoke his name, your heart skipped a beat. You had called him He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named instead of saying his name aloud.

"Do you have a pre-arranged appointment?"

"Um, no. I—" You were interrupted in the middle.

"I'm sorry, Ms. L/N. I can't transfer your call if you don't have an appointment."

You sighed. "I appreciate that, but this is an emergency. Please, Ms. Alkari, I'm sure if you inform Mr. Gojo that Y/N L/N is calling, he would want to talk to me," you almost pleaded and placed your hand on your pounding heart, praying for the receptionist to accept your request.

"Hold on a second."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You were going to talk with him—your love of life. You were going to hear his sweet voice. What did you want to tell him?

"Ms. L/N? Are you on the phone?"

"Yes?" You opened your eyes, and they fixated on his picture in front of you.

"Mr. Gojo has left the office."

You checked the clock. It was 11 am. "When is he going to return?"

"According to his schedule, he will not return to the office today, Ms. L/N."

"How about tomorrow?" You clenched your hand and felt your nails digging into your palm.

"I'm sorry. He won't be able to visit the office till next week, since it's his wedding. Do you want me to make an appointment for the next Tuesday?"

Your heart stopped. The second hand of the clock stayed steady. The leaves of the tree facing your window didn't move. The bird in the sky didn't chirp a wing. The air lost its way to your lungs. You wanted to grasp for oxygen, but the ache in your chest folded your knees. No tears pierced your eyes as your brain digested the words coming out of the receptionist's mouth. Your hands trembled. Your feet tingled. Your vision disfigured as though you were looking through a foggy window. You fell to the floor.

"Or, if you want, I can deliver your message to him on Monday morning."

You felt your heart would burst. Your chest was one minute away from crushing. The torture was so intense and all-consuming that you no longer knew where you were. You wanted to scream, to shout, louder than you had ever done in your life, but no sound left your throat.

"Ms. L/N? Are you there?"

You weren't sure which was worse, the fact that he was going to marry someone so early, or the fact that you thought he never would. It tore you apart; the way he forgot you like you never mattered.

For you, he was a bittersweet fairytale with a grey ending. He was your hamartia, your tragedy, your addiction. Frankly, he was also the only ray of sunlight in your aphotic world. He consumed every existing part of your soul, leaving you with the crippled remains. You couldn't take it anymore. You surrendered and let it all disappear.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Turning your head away from the glass, you laughed at your misery. He didn't love you. He didn't miss you. He was happy without you, busy living his life while you were still stuck wondering where things got out of hand. You had to stop trying to find closure with someone that obviously didn't care to give it to you. You had wasted years searching for the answers you could never get. You had to put an end to it, Y/N.

This table was doomed. It didn't matter how many times you sit behind it and try to make it a usual, boring place by making new memories. It would never work. This gravestone had your names, carrying the heaviness of your last kiss. So it didn't matter how much you would kill yourself to write a new story on top of your hurtful one. You would fail; because the ink of the bad story hadn't faded away yet for the only good one to remain.

Rising from the table, you shook your head, scattering all the sad thoughts. You grabbed your luggage, picked up your cold coffee, and headed to the nearest trash can at the corner of the airport terminal. You stood there for a while, enjoying the faint sun rays on your skin and the pale rainbow colors in the sky. You delivered your luggage and checked your watch. Huh! You still got a lot of time to kill. So you tried to pass it by reading the magazine covers, hanging around the gift shops. It didn't go unnoticed by you that the airport was getting crowded with the sunrise. Ughh. You sighed and made your way through the crowd, unaware of the ridiculous farce of destiny for you.

Amakusa Airlines flight 4022  to Osaka is now ready for boarding, with all the passengers for this flight proceeding to gate 13.

As you walked past, your eyes fell on table 13, and all of a sudden, your footsteps froze. There was a huge mob moving between you and that table, but after all these years, there was still no way for you to mistake him. You could recognize him by a look alone, by a glance. You would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his fingers touched his hair. This big airport and the packed crowd were nothing when you would know him in death, at the end of the world.

His fingers tapped slowly on the table, and time fell away for you. You had never gotten so lost in a sight before. And then the space between you two exploded to nothing. After being away from him for so long, just standing under the same roof as him felt like you were kicked in the stomach, and your whole breath was gone. Before you knew it, you were already biting your lip from the inside to stifle your tears. No more tears for him, you had promised yourself years ago. But promises were like your heart; they were meant to be broken.

You felt cold like that day. You felt like concrete drying in your chest. There was a shard in your guts that never left, though perhaps in time, the edges dulled. It felt like death, just the same as bereavement, and in a quiet moment, it choked the life from your body. You had longed to see him for so many years that he was beginning to feel fictional, but he was real. He was sitting at table 13. Was it a coincidence? Or did he still remember it? There was a part of you that was desperate to know if your absence had done any damage to him. Did he too, experience long, restless nights due to the thought of you? Was his heart broken in the same places as yours? You wanted to know that you weren't the only one hurting from this. You needed to know that you actually meant something to him.

Your legs wanted to run away, run until they bleed, until they drove you out there, from him. But your eyes didn't allow it. They were filled with regrets; the more they looked, the more they thirsted.

You watched as his hands grabbed the coffee, raised it, and that lucky cup touched his lips. You saw how he turned his head toward the glass window and stared for a while. Without realizing, you took a step in his direction. All the cells in your body cried out for you to let go, but the thought of him was consuming you.

His ocean blue eyes, peeking at you at the sunrise. His childish smiles, gifting you the butterflies. His smooth skin, touching your body like a sin. His vanilla smell, filling your nostrils well. His big feet, touching yours under the sheet. His warm hands, conquering your naked body's lands. His pounding heart, feeling it like a fine art. His naughty desire, red lingerie hugging you like a fire. His tender touch, laving your crutch. His cocky smirk, naming him as the biggest jerk. His rigid muscles, giving you rough hustles. His soft hair, becoming your finger's lair. His overwhelmed sweats, pounding you for sets. His shy groans, getting lost in your loud moans. His spit on your cunt, his cock ruining your front. His throbbing length, taking away your strength. His whispers in your ear, shooing away your fear. His peace in your arms, pushing away all of the harms. His never-ending need, revealing his hidden deed. Your endless meekness, turning into his greatest weakness. Your lullaby as a song, driving away every wrong. His peaceful dreams, hiding his painful screams. His contagious laughter, calling down every disaster. His favorite food, exchanging it with your nude. His favorite movie, turning out to be Snoopy. Reading him books, his kisses on your crooks. His goofy attitude, giving him latitude. His insights about pudding, having no idea about cooking. His eye-blinding light, forcing your soul to ignite. His aspiring ambitions, all dying because of traditions. His family troubles, bursting your happiness bubbles. His gloomy demeanor, rooting in you like a malignant tumor. His brutal fights, giving hell to the nights. His cold distance, ignoring your existence. His habit of being late, keeping your eyes on a wait. His unforgivable mistakes, leaving you with heart-wrenching aches. His deadly silence, slitting your throat with violence. His no victorious wars, gifting you countless scars. His yesterday a history, his tomorrow a mystery. His walking away steps, echoing with sound effects. His beautiful lies, leaving you with cries. His broken bond like a Knife…a knife…knife…k…n…i…f…e…w…i…f…e…wife…his wife…

You stopped. Your eyes followed his gaze, and the ache in your heart grew more painful as they saw a black-haired woman with a bow, wearing a traditional white and red kimono and approaching him with slow steps. This was the girl who ticked off all the boxes that suited Satoru Gojo. Not you. Never you.

You looked up to the ceiling in an effort to prevent tears from falling on your face. A quivering sigh escaped your throat. But wait a little. Whoever created your story was crueler than you thought.

This is the last call for passengers traveling to Osaka on Amakusa airline slight 4022, due to leave at 6:30 am.

"Dad! Look what mommy bought me?" A little girl, maybe 4 -5, with white hair, waved a small package of mochi in her hand and then ran to throw herself into Satoru's arms before your shocked eyes.

As you saw his child, what was once a whole was shattered, where once was peace was emptiness, echoes of a love you put your everything into. If only you could hold your heart in your hands and squeeze it yourself, the pain would be more bearable. Your chest felt tight, like someone was ripping your rib cage open and pulling your heart out of your chest. It just hurt. It hurt to breathe. It hurt your mind wondering why you weren't good enough, why it wasn't you, why you weren't in that woman's place. Why she wasn't your daughter, and it slowly broke you apart. You never thought he would be able to wound you so deeply, cut to the core again. But you got it now. Only the one you loved so much could be your assassin. Of course, it would take an inside job to attack you so resilient. He was the tool of your greatest pain. You knew he didn't mean it, you knew, but in a way, that made it even worse.

You choked back something welling up in your chest. Every few minutes, the pain renewed itself. Your palm flat against the wall by your side, you clenched your eyes shut. "Please turn your head," you said quietly. He couldn't hear you, but it didn't stop you from wishing he would come and save you from the terrible pain you felt without him.

After wallowing in your despair in the lonely corner of the airport, you took a few deep breaths and got yourself together. You always had this constant fear that you were never going to forget him. The way his blue eyes pierced yours or his goofy grin that always made your heart beat ten times faster. And what sucked the most was that he was never yours, to begin with. But you remained desperately in love with him. Damn! It had been six years, and a person could only endure pain for so long. You had to let it all go. The way he kissed you, the way he smelled, the way he touched your waist and pulled you in. You had to let it all go, and you had to let him go. Yes! He was the sweet taste on your tongue of sugar, but he was also the dense smoke that crept into your lungs and choked you. He was the venom in your veins, the tree root that tripped you. He belonged to his family, to his wife and daughter. Continuing to love him was like chasing after the clouds. It was wishing for the moon and the stars to appear in your arms. He was your impossible.

You took one last look at him and the smile on his face as his daughter was in his arms. Your last bit of willpower was lost, and tears began to trail down your cheeks, as you turned and walked away.

To be frank, hearts don't break. It's just another thing the poets say. Hearts are not made of glass, bone, or any material that could splinter, fragment, or shatter. They don't crack into pieces. They don't fall apart. No! You knew it better now. Hearts don't break. They just stop working like yours.

This is the last call for passengers Y/N L/N, Mikasa and Eren Yeager travelling on Amakusa Airlines flight 4022 to Osaka departing at 6:30 am. Will passengers L/N, Yeagers, and Nanami, please go to gate 13, where the flight is ready to depart.

Upon hearing your name, Satoru coughed and spilled coffee over his blue shirt. The hot liquid burned his chest, but not as sour as your name, opening the old, closed wounds. His mind rejected all possibilities. You were there, in the airport, and then it all flowed into his brain, the memories of his youth.

He first saw you sitting in the first row, like a nerd ready to glow.

Brushing your hair behind your ear, you bit all your nails without keeping them dear. You got your score, but he couldn't see anyone anymore.

You were in a hurry to catch a bus when he asked you out. You missed the bus. But instead, you found a new way to your house.

He kissed you under the pouring rain, you standing there wholly drenched without any complain, your eyes closed like a droplet free of every chain. How could you be aware of his bane?

You ate a double burger in less than five minutes on your second date after your third cigarette. Why? Just not to lose the bet. What did he say? Unlucky in cards, lucky in love.

Moaning his name, your fingers grabbed his hair locks, and your holes caught his heaviest flux.

In the darkness of the movie theater, he leaned to utter, "I love you, Y/N." You choking on your popcorn, survived to say, "Tell me that again."

Your laughter the best melody filling the house, when the artist tickled you crazily on the couch.

You left your shellfish-shaped soap on his bathroom side. The reason? It just smelled like the tide. Damn! You never lied.

Your colorful cute little notes in the pocket of his coat, his dad clearing his throat, staring at his son digging his own moat.

You in the kitchen, his hands on your waist, his hums in the air, danced with him there and bare.

Tears fell on the ring that he proposed despite knowing that his dad was opposed.

He waking up with a nightmare, sweats covering his white hair, he would have died if you weren't lying next to him right there. Your fights very not rare, but you were always fair.

Your hands were frozen cold the last day they were in his hold.

He wished you would yell at him on the phone, but you just cried, trembling him to the bone.

Broken pieces of your coffee mug, empty bottles of your favorite wine, his stumbling on the dusted rug, no, you were no longer around.

He walked down the aisle with a woman he had never loved. Thank God you were somewhere alive.

One hand still holding the coffee cup, the other gripped the side of the table firmly, turning his knuckles white. Six years. Six fucking years! And you were here.

"Satoru? Are you okay?" The familiar voice snatched him out of old memories. Turning his head slightly, his wide eyes fell upon a woman bent before him, trying to wipe the coffee stain off his shirt with a napkin. Oh, his allegedly beloved wife, having no other purpose than to please him in her life. The poor woman was unaware that all her efforts were in vain. For not only her white napkin, but there was nothing in this world strong enough to erase your remnants off Satoru's existence. You were eternal, engraved in his soul.

Grabbing her wrist, Satoru pushed his chair back and stood up. Across the airport stood the woman he loved, hurt, betrayed, and forsakened. Across the airport was you, the one who trusted him for years, stayed with him for years, and loved him for years. Unconditionally.

"Satoru, where are you going?" His wife's suppliant voice didn't reach him. Of course, his wife wasn't stupid. She knew that nothing was enough to stop his long steps from running to gate 13, to you, to his lost paradise, but just like Satoru, she endured the marriage for the sake of her loved ones.

You wiped your cheeks with the back of your sleeve and tried your best to take another step in the line. The emptiness in your chest was getting heavier by the time, making it hard to move forward, and holding your shit together seemed impossible when the gate appeared that far away with every passing moment. So you did what you always did. You split the colossal task of surviving into baby steps. All you had to do was, reaching the gate. It was your ultimate destination for now. After that, you would walk to the plane, sit in your seat, and fly away, never to book a ticket from this airport again.

You took a deep breath and begged your legs to drag you one more time as the black-haired couple before you moved forward. You convinced yourself that you were fine, hoping that you might believe the perfect lie, that the scene from a few minutes ago hadn't brought you to your knees.

"Y/N?"

They say different things about the soul leaving the body, but you witnessed with your own eyes how life left you in one breath, just hearing a voice. His voice. You could taste the acidic agony on the tip of your tongue, scorching you to the bone marrow.

An invisible hand forcibly turned your head towards the source of the sound. There he was. Your love. Your murderer. Your salvation. Your deity. Your death. Your hell. Half of your soul, as the poets said.

Your Satoru was standing there with his tall stature, his hands slumped on his sides, a big coffee stain on his shirt, and his white hair ruffled like in the good old days. But it seemed that life wasn't easy on him either. His once bright, bubbly, and even ambitious eyes were gone. There was no shine in them, as if they were blue plastic marbles in a daze. Who had stolen his radiant smile?

But for him, you were still the same Y/N he had lost. Your tear-stained face was puffy and swollen with grief. Your eyes looked tired, and the dark circles under them carried the news of sleepless nights. Yet, in his eyes, you were still the same sun, holding the whole universe together. One glance at you, and his heart started pounding. It constantly pounded, stomping on the shattered remains left of you in his heart. He couldn't stop himself from dreaming of the endless possibilities where you could be together.

He opened his mouth, but none of the words were courageous enough to come out. He stepped forward and raised his hand slightly toward you. There was a long way between you, the bars separating him from you. He could jump over the bars and bridge the gap, but something in his heart was well aware that no matter how far he stretched his hand, it would never reach you.

Hot tears flowed over his face, and he pressed his eyelids shut, hoping his tears would cease. His agitated breathing and tearful eyes remained for a long time as he stood there, statue-like.

God knows how he wanted to say that he missed you, how he wanted to call your name and start a silly conversation the way he used to do. How he wanted to ask you something ridiculous like do you still like cats more than dogs, like what do you think of the color blue, like did he hurt you so much, like were you able to forgive him, do you still love him as he does?

He wanted to hold you tightly, squeeze you between his arms and kiss away all the tears in your eyes. He wanted to sit on the floor of your room again, and you let him kiss you, let him kiss you, and let him kiss you. He wanted to tell you that in all these years, you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, that watching you cover your yawn with the back of your hand took his breath away, that he was sometimes so immersed in the music of your tone that he couldn't understand what you were saying.

He wanted to tell you that if you stay by his side, nothing bad will happen to you. He was about to ask you this at that crucial point, but a sudden certainty struck his chest like a cold fist. He knew he had caused so much pain that probably you wished you were fortunate enough never to know him, that you were one of the billions of people in the world that didn't know he existed. He was sure that you wanted to turn back the clock, go to the beginning, to the day he approached you. Maybe you would want to leave so he could never tell you his name, and you would never fall in love.

"Satoru." Your words broke up, and all you could say were stuttering sounds. You never expected to see him here, with the same longing you had buried in your eyes. Suddenly everything seemed possible to you. How could anything be impossible with him still wanting you? Turning back from this line seemed nothing when you would climb every mountain and swim every ocean just to be with him.

A seed of hope sprouted in your heart, and a faint smile blossomed on your lips. Now with a thing you wanted to name enlightenment, you could see the meaning behind every pain you had borne all these years, and martyrly, you were ready to take more pain, take it all the way if it meant you would be safe in the embrace of his arms. You were in love. You would run to him, even if it were going to ignite you alive. You would still call to him even if you were going to lose your sight. You were ready to let go of your broken heart even if it was going to break you apart.

Your hand took hold of the rod, and as if a new soul had been breathed into you, your legs turned to take the path to him. Satoru's spell broke upon seeing your smile, and a nubbin of happiness slipped over his eyes. He started walking around the bars to get to you. His heart was racing like crazy, couldn't wait to feel you, to take you in his arms.

But suddenly, you stopped, like someone woke you with a slap in the face. The color drained from your face, and joy withered away. The thing you called enlightenment turned out to be an illusion.

"Y/N! Don't run in the airport!" The panting voice of a woman reached you while chasing after a child. Not just any woman, his wife.

"Nooo! I want to stay with my dad!" The white-haired girl reached for her father and grabbed his coat sleeve firmly. "Where have you gone, Pa? I got scared." Pouting her lips, not only did she not let go of Satoru, but she also hugged his knee tightly with her other hand.

His shocked gaze turned from his daughter to you. "Please, Y/N," he mumbled, begging you with desperation glooming in his eyes. He stood there like the whole world was breaking crumble apart around him. It no longer existed, and he knew he had to bid farewell to any chance of being with you. The ache in his heart became more unbearable when he realized he hadn't lost you years ago on the phone; he lost you today, before his eyes. He could see the flames of the wildfire he had thrown you in, because it was also turning him to the ashes. Even on your worst day, you didn't deserve any of the hell he gave you.

And on the other side, you were ready to give it all up — everything. You were half out of your mind with love, and you didn't think twice about throwing yourself into a fire, as long as you could keep him by your side. That was how you loved him. How pitiful.

The researches indicate ways for the human mind to cope with grief: sleep, forgetfulness, insanity, and death. Sleep allows people to take a step back from painful things. Like when someone gets injured or bad news, they often pass out. But at times, the wounds are so deep they don't heal. The saying that time cures pain is a fallacy. Yes, time heals most pains, but the rest are doomed to be forgotten. Rarely it happens that the mind suffers such a heavy blow that it takes refuge in insanity. Because most of the time, the truth is nothing but pain, and the mind abandons it to rid itself of murderous pain. Here comes the last escape way, aka death. When someone dies, nothing can hurt them anymore. At least that's what's being said.

Holding the rod firmly, you stared at him with grief, unsure which of these doors you would walk through after today, but you were well aware that he must have chosen the insanity by naming his daughter after you. You couldn't imagine the anguish he had to go through every time he wanted to call his own blood and bone your name. You had no idea whether he did it to preserve your memory or to torture himself. You didn't know. You couldn't say. Your head was dizzy, and everything hurt so much that it felt like you hurt for everyone who had ever been hurt this way.

You looked at him for the last time, trying to savor the moment. You knew you might not get another chance like this. Then you turned back to him, because you were afraid your chest would cave in and the only thing stopping it was the gasps of air you were taking between your tears. Before you knew it, you were sobbing, muffling your quiet screams of anger, frustration, and sadness.

You used your last remaining strength to walk straight, not to faint. Because you didn't want to give him any reason to come after you, to follow you. You loved him. You had fallen madly in love with what could never be, and no matter what your reasons were, you had to stay away from him. You just couldn't allow yourself to be a homewrecker.

"Mama? Why is dad sad?" The little girl pressed her lips together and looked at the black-haired woman with her big blue eyes. She had heard from her uncle Suguru that his father was once the funniest and goofiest person on earth, but no matter how much she strained her ears, she never heard his laughter. The only thing she remembered from him was the sleepless nights and the stench of alcohol. It gradually evolved into a dilemma in her mind, and sadly, she was too young for her mother to give her answers, to talk to her about the cruelty of her grandpa and her father's old, never-forgotten love.

"Everything will be fine, Y/N," he whispered in a distant, flat, quiet, and lifeless voice like he had promised you years ago on table 13. Still, this time standing there, staring at the gate you left, wondering how many lives it would take for him to finally experience a happy ever after with you.

"Of course it will, Papa."

Did you like this story? Would you like me to write the second part? If so, let me know your ideas :)

Also, your reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated.

[cursestothemoon]

yay for the open requests! I really reallyyyyyy love your Harry's older sister hc, could u pretty pls do more? like their brief life as a family with lily and james, then to the dursleys and then at war, so on. I agree with the anon that did the request, harry does needed a bigger sister❤️

aH I LOVED THESE REQUESTS

YOU GUYS CAN READ THE HEADCANONS THIS ANON IS TALKING ABOUT HERE

ok so this is L O N G i need to add a keep reading tab

alright so let's talk about harry's older sister

so lily and james did not plan you

they were straight out of hogwarts

just having fun

and suddenly lily is having morning sickness and james running into a store to buy a pregnancy test (or whatever the wizard equivalent would be 😗)

james would be so nervous the weeks leading up to your birth

he already knows that you aren't even here yet and there isn't anything he wouldn't do for you

and when you are born

he swears he'd never love anything as much as he loves you

his little girl

this sweet little lump of baby fat that was born with eyes just like his

he'd put his glasses on your little baby face, and he could laugh for hours at the way they just barely sat on your little nose (a miniature version of his)

your chubby little baby hands are his favorite

when you'd plan your hands on his face or wrap your hand around his finger he'd melt

Lily would joke all the time about how she carried the baby yet James is constantly hogging her

I think james would have some serious separation anxiety

Lily would also have trouble leaving you to go do something but she knew that you getting to see other people would be good

james is NOT a fan

and you were a big daddy's girl

"it's going to be alright, darling, uncle Padfoot and uncle Moony will take care of you."

and you'd respond with sad baby talk, something along the lines of 'daddy' and 'wanna stay with you' and you'd get all teary eyed

it's a whole dramatic scene

youre crying

james is about to cry

Sirius is quite literally trying to sob silently into his hand because you just look so sAD

and remus and lily are just

😐

because you guys do this eVERY TIME

there was one time james got back into the car with lily after dropping you off and he was unusually quiet until he kinda just whispered out

"It just feels like i'll never have enough time with her, like one day i'll wake up and suddenly she's not mine anymore."

his tone gave Lily the worst chills, his tone and the fact that she felt the same though never voiced it

honestly

i don't think harry was planned either

he kinda just happened

and they were like

you know what, yes.

so you were two when harry was born

and you LOVED your baby brother

he was so small

so cute

and he had your mum's green eyes

from the get go you were very protective of your little brother

james thought it was the cutest thing

ok ive been avoiding it

but we need to talk about October 31 1981

you were upstairs with our mum and harry

james was downstairs cleaning up from dinner

that was when there was a knock on the door

assuming it was peter, uncle wormtail, james was quick to go open the door

grabbing his wand for protection was the last thing on his mind

the thud of his body was loud

he was killed before he could even open his mouth to warn Lily

the door to Harry's nursery flew open and it all happened so fast

there was screaming

bargaining

a sudden flash fo green before Voldemort turned to harry

his cold, pale hand pushed you out of his way

the prophecy had said nothing about you, so he didn't care for what happened to you he just needed to kill harry

which obviously backfired

half the house was blown up

he was gone

harry was crying

and you just wanted your dad

you found your way downstairs, just barely making it down the steps

lily and james had never let you go up or down the steps on your own

only to come face to face with your dad just lying on the ground motionless

his eyes were still open

now i want you guys to think of the lion king

you know the scene where simba finds mufasa's dead body and just lays with it because he doesn't know where else to go

you just wanted any kind of comfort you could find

so with tear streaks going down your face you slayed next to your dad, getting as close as you could, hoping he'd just wake up

sirius is the one who finds you, asleep next to james' body

it was rather rough for sirius

and he could hear harry crying somewhere upstairs

you wake up to uncle padfoot trying to keep in his tears as he takes in the scene before him

you're just glad to see a familiar face

you run over to him, tears freshly falling as you wail about how daddy and mommy won't wake up

you also gently pull james' glasses off his face and keeping them in your small hand

keeping them safe for him later

you knew he didn't like to sleep with his glasses on

eventually hagrid shows up

you guys know the story

but i will say

it takes a lot for you to leave uncle pads and go with this big strange man

youre basically heaving as you beg to stay with sirius

and forcing you off his hip and onto the bike with hagrid was the worst thing he's ever had to do

even for a two year old, youre eyes held such a strong emotion of betrayal

sirius would never forget it

the dursley's were not fond of you and harry

you had james temper and stubbornness

harry was just a 6 month old baby

doing 6 month old baby things

for the first month you'd ask for james, lily, uncle moony, uncle padfoot, even uncle wormtail on a daily basis

until one day petunia just snapped

you had asked about sirius, or as you called him uncle padfoot, and petunia lost it

she started to shout, her hand coming out to strike your cheek as she told you that no one was coming

not now

not ever

you never asked after that

over time you forgot about sirius and remus and peter

you forgot about the song your dad would sing every saturday morning when making breakfast

or the way your mom would hum when she brushed your hair

all lily and james had become were familiar scents and the same pair of eyes you'd see in your dreams (though for a long time you just assumed they were your eyes, they looked enough like yours)

and you grew up always feeling like you were on the wrong side of a billowing curtain

you and harry grew up only having each other

you were very protective of him

and dudley hated it

because you had James art for pranks

and his art for rarely getting caught

unfortunately for you petunia and vernon didn't need evidence to incriminate you

you were often on the receiving end of disciplinary swats and missed meals

and you'd often take harry's punishments for him

you and harry were also forced to share a room

or cupboard

you let him decorate it with all his things (he didn't have many)

and you guys shared a bed up until you got your hogwarts letter

which that was kept very quiet

you got the letter

and petunia and vernon were just glad to be able to send you and your pranks away

you weren't allowed to tell harry

but you did anyway

secretly

you didn't tell him all the details but you told him that you were going to a school far away and you'd be back whenever aunt petunia let you back

going to school was interesting

you didn't know anyone

bUT HAGRID WAS ALSO THERE TO HELP YOU AND BUY YOU YOURE STUFF AND HE BOUGHT YOU YOUR FIRST WAND

you still have james' glasses

you put them on when youre nervous

so youre sitting in the train

first day

you don't know anyone

big round glasses sitting on your nose as you look out the window barely able to see what's going on

james was as blind as a bat

on the train you spend your time reading your new books

absorbing all the material

you were not going to just walk into this new school of mAGIC not knowing aNYTHING

by the time you got there you were at leas base level with most subjects

some were easier to catch onto than others

as long as you didn't let the logical side of your brain do too much work

within the first week you'd find out about your parents

curtesy of older gryffindor kids who knew your last name and were just amazed by the story

oH ALSO YOURE IN GRYFFINDOR

AND WHEN MCGONAGALL READS YOUR NAME SHE GASPS TO HERSELF

BECAUSE

Y/N POTTER

she remembers when james had written to her with the news of Lily's pregnancy with you

and how he was nervous you'd come out just like him and he wouldn't be able to handle you as well as she had, he was asking her for advice

and when you walked up to sit on the chair she nearly dropped her scroll of parchment and pulled you into a hug

you looked just like him

dark hair

pale skin

same eyes and eye shape

and same habit of picking at the skin around your thumb nail when nervous

the hat announcing you were a gryffindor was very overwhelming for her

then she realizes you

are e x a c t l y

like james

and merlin is she tiRED OF THIS SHIT

ok so at this point i am going to direct you to the other headcanon (linked above) if you want a more fred x reader approach 

continue here if not

so youre on the quidditch team

and youre a natural 

let me tell you

you just have the innate ability 

much like james

and at first they had you as a seeker

and you were good

but you excelled as a chaser 

i also firmly believed that there was a practice broom that james had carved his name into

or maybe just a ‘J.P.’

that was the broom you'd practice on

even use for games before you got your own broom

ok so

let’s talk your relationship with harry 

you made sure you were the one to tell him what happened to your parents

as i said it was your first year when you fond out about what happened 

the gryffindor student had told you what they knew

and you went to professor mcgonagall pretty distraught 

you were near tears as you practically begged her to just tell you what happened, you wanted the truth 

because all your life your aunt and uncle had told you that your parents had been killed in a car accident 

needless to say 

you didn't want harry to find out that way

but you also knew he was noticing the stares

the whispers

so you told him on the first night

he had already been put into gryffindor and was getting ready for bed when you are up to his dorm 

bECAUSE IT’S CANON THAT GIRLS CAN GO UP INTO THE BOYS DORMS AND BOYS CANT GO UP INTO THE GIRLS DORMS AND I WILL CITE THE PARAGRAPH IF ANYONE NEEDS

and you kinda push out ron, neville, and dean 

but yeah thats how he finds out all the details and such 

ok so you and harry are sUPER CLOSE

and you are very 

v e r y

protective of harry 

you'd do anything for the kid 

wHEN YOU FIND OUT ABOUT THE WHOLE SORCERER’S STONE FIASCO 

YOU ARE LIVID

because harry is your baby brother and you love him so much and don't like seeing him hurt 🥺

as harry grows older he gets a bit more

embarrassed 

about having you protective over him

and im pretty sure i mentioned this in the last headcanon post 

but yeah he’d be like 14 and you'd be 17 and he'd just

“stOP this is so emBARRASSING”

what a little dweeb

ok leTS TALK ABOUT SIRIUS 

BECAUSE YOU AND SIRIUS WERE CLOSE WHEN YOU WERE YOUNGER

HE WAS UNCLE PADFOOT

YOU LOVED HIM

until your fifth year (harry’ third) when you were told he betrayed your parents and got them killed 

youre in the whomping willow when with harry, hermione, and ron 

its a lot for both of you

because sirius is seeing his goddaughter who looks just like james, and his the same fire in her eyes as his bestrfriend

his b r o t h e r 

and youre seeing the man who was responsible for your parents murder 

again 

it was A LOT

i have a feeling you, JAMES POTTERS DAUGHTER, would just lunge at him 

and youre crying

trying to hit him

hurt him like he hurt you

just anything to bring pain upon this man

and sirius is having flashbacks of when you had ran to him from next to james’ lifeless body 

and how different everything had been just days prior to October 31 1981

upon finding out the truth 

scammers is now wormtail

peter ‘little bitch ass’ pettigrew

you and harry are immediately forming this connection

this sort of dependency on sirius 

within a few minutes

because he is the only living connection you have to your dad 

apart from yourselves of course

but eh was the only reminder that james potter was a real man 

and lily potter did exist 

and there was a time where your family was complete 

it never crossed your mind that any more misfortune could strike 

not now 

not when you finally got back your uncle pads

and then you guys walk into the moonlight, the full moon light

everything flips instantly 

you guys are back to square one 

i like to think you have a very big part in getting sirius free 

so you guys know what happen in between prisoner of azkaban and order of the phoenix 

and this headcanon is already getting very long and we haven't even gotten to the wAR YET 

so we are doing a little time jump

order of the phoenix 

your last year

you are living with sirius in grimmauld place 

petunia and vernon kicked you out once you turned 17 after finding out that was the legal age in the wizarding world

you and sirius are close 

super close

i mean he is like a father figure to you

he is uncle pads again

oOO AND OK 

SO 

AFTER FINDING OUT HIS DAD AND HIS BROS 😤

WERE ALL UNREGISTERED ANIMAGI 

OBVIOUSLY YOU WANTED TO BE ONE TOO 

youre a gazelle 

it just makes sense

father figure sirius is not happy when he finds out

uncle pads, however, couldn't be happier

its finally starting to feel like a family again

you and harry have sirius 

aLSO REMUS

icon

anyway

everything is falling into place

you and harry are filling the james sized hole in Sirius’ heart (not completely but it’s better)

and he is doing the same for you two

you and harry love your uncle pads

then the battle in the department of mysteries happens 

youre there

you see it 

you watch as bellatrix hits sirius with a curse 

youre not sure which 

nothing too serious you hope, and seeing that he’s still standing he should be fine 

but then he stumbles

she's stunned him perhaps 

and he makes eye contact with you

there was a look so final, so sad

yet so relieved in his eyes as you watched him fall through the veil

remus grabbed harry

tonks held you

if she hadn’t been you knew you would've thrown yourself into the veil after him

its a whirlwind from then on let me tell you

so we know what happens

all that fun stuff 

the war hits

harry, hermione, and ron leave

youre left with the weasley’s 

it’s hard being away from harry

not knowing if he was ok

if he was even alive 

you guys finally reunite at shell cottage 

bill calls you the second he sees harry, hermione, ron, and dobby apparate in front of his house

you were quick to pull harry into a bone crushing hug 

keen on never letting go 

because after all he is still (and always will be) your baby brother 

you guys are all at the battle of hogwarts

oK WAIT

SO

YOU REFUSE TO LET HARRY WALK TO HIS DEATH ALONE

ALSO YOUVE FIGURED WHAT HE PLANS ON DOING BUT NEITHER OF YOU HAVE SAID ANYTHING

NOT WANTING TO ACCEPT THAT THIS COULD BE THE LAST TIME YOU GUYS SEE EACH OTHER 

AND THE RESURRECTION STONE COMES OUT 

BOTH YOU AND HARRY ARE HOLDING ONTO IT 

AND SUDDENLY

SIRIUS 

REMUS 

THERE ALL THERE 

EVEN A WOMAN WITH RED HAIR 

AND A MAN WHO LOOKS PAINFULLY FAMILIAR 

ok so hear me out 

i think harry enjoyed looking at pictures of james and lily

but you didnt

you didnt want to see everything that was taken from you

so you weren’t super aware of what your dad actually looked like seeing as you avoided pictures of him and your mom like the plague 

but you just knew 

and james was standing there

beaming

and he just looked so proud of you and harry 

so did lily 

she was the first one to say something 

“Your father and I are so proud of the both of you”

and you just broke down 

james right there with you 

he watched as you sobbed, choking on your cries 

and he couldn’t do anything about it 

he couldn’t hold you or comfort you

he couldn’t be a dad 

and it broke him

as much as it could break a dead man 

“you’ve grown so beautiful, darling” he'd smile sadly

his voice seemed to bring back all of your memories once lost 

“have you always been here, with us?”

“always.”

“typical, your father shows up and everyone forgets about uncle padfoot”

both you and harry laugh at that 

but the mood was somber 

harry then speaks up

“does it hurt?”

it was the first time either of you had confirmed that you both knew what was going to happen 

“dying? not at all, quicker than falling asleep.”

“will you stay with me?”

“until the very end. 

james is the one who answers, looking teary eyes at his son

and you know you cant go any further 

harry has to do this alone 

its quite symbolic actually 

the one time you'd let go of the reigns 

removed the protective arms you had around your baby brother 

he’d die 

but you had to do it 

so everything goes as planned 

harry dies

comes back

we love a resurrecting king 

and the war ends 

when you got back home from the war 

let’s say you are still living at grimmauld place seeing as it was left to you 

the first thing you do is go through old photos with harry 

any and everything you can get your hands on 

you see your mother’s sparkling green eyes

the same eyes your brother had 

and your father’s unruly mop of curls 

the same wave pattern in your dark hair 

everything finally felt right 

tags:

@pogueslandia

@vsawyer1989​

@lifeofkaze

@siriusement

@erinruby003

@maybesandohnos

@onlyfreds

@fullofsourgrapes

[cinnamonest]

Albedo idol girl darling thoughts M A N I F E S T E D

----------

Well, to be entirely honest, he thinks the whole idol thing is a little dumb.

For someone like him, at least. He's a PhD student in his final semester, lots of work to be done and all that. So, you know, he's a responsible, accomplished adult. Not the kind of person who gets into "that stuff," as he calls it in his head.

Nor does he even know how he encountered it... He just takes the occasional break from work to mindlessly open whatever app first pops into his vision and scroll through the feed. He's never watched anything like it in his life, so he's not exactly sure why he gets recommended some idol girl thing, and even less sure why he taps it without really thinking. Probably one of those videos that gets recommended to everyone. Well, can't be that, it doesn't have that many views... Probably loosely connected to some video game he's searched before or something. He's familiar with idols and what they are, and the subculture surrounding them, but he's never really cared about it.

Honestly, it's kinda pathetic that a bunch of grown adult men get so obsessed over these girls, he thinks as he watches. He's seen the type. Lonely, asocial dudes, most definitely virgins whose only female attention in their entire life is their mother, well into adulthood with no real social group to speak of.

...Not that he's much better off, but he hasn't quite sunk down to their level. The only reason he doesn't talk to people much is because they're busy, and he's even busier. He managed to make a few friends in undergrad years. Well, study partners who mooched off his notes since he was one of the top students, but same idea. They were people he spoke to more than once, which is what constitutes a friend, right? And for the record, one time in high school a girl in his class said she liked his hair. He hasn't changed the way he wears it since. Whenever he's sad, he thinks about that compliment from 10+ years ago, and it makes him feel a little better. But now, he's constantly slammed with work and research.

And his acquaintances are also all busy. He sees notifications every now and then from social media he never checks. Everyone is getting married at this stage in life, both friends and even other PhD students in his department. Not that he's ever been invited to a wedding, he just overhears a lot of conversations, sees notifications of posts. And he will too, eventually. He just has to finish up his degree, and then... Meet a girl. Well, that's actually the second step, step one would be finding out how to go about meeting a girl. He's... Never done it before. Probably does not happen sitting in the research lab at 11:30 pm on YouTube. He's talked to one of the other PhD students who's a girl before. And only stutters sometimes. He was even able to look her in the face while he talked to her once. That's a good start.

Ok, so maybe he is a little bit pathetic, but not as bad as... These guys. Reading the comments of the video actually make him feel a little better about himself, because frankly, they're kinda wild. The worship and fawning over girls is one thing, but they even have timestamps referring to various members like "she's super cute here!" Or "you can kinda see her thigh at 3:12!" Etc etc. Yeesh, creepy. And they get into comment fights over who is the best member, as if it even matters. It's fascinating in a human-social-experiment sort of way, the manifestation of a subculture and how humans interact with each other. On and on it goes, hundreds of commenters. He pays more attention to the comments than the actual video, but the song is kinda catchy in that annoying sort of way, and the girls are cute, just kinda... The typical thing he'd expect from idol groups. But the building will close soon, so he taps back to home screen and swipes the app closed.

Unfortunately, the algorithm remembers.

And he's not certain why he clicks the next one either, the following day. The lunch breaks he takes are usually pretty rushed. Not that he has specific class times at his level of academia, but he likes to get his work done. He intentionally eats either a bit later or earlier than the lunch crowd to avoid crowds and interactions. Finds a nice secluded little table tucked away. So when he opens it back up, what do you know, several more videos get recommended. It's absent minded when he taps on one, the kind of numb-brained entertainment every modern person indulges in, videos you wouldn't really be interested in but just watch because they're there.

Ok, this is really creepy. These dudes have made compilation videos of close ups of each specific girl. It's the same group as the video he saw before, same little lewd costumes. Admittedly the girls are kinda cute. He can kinda understand the appeal. But he's not like those guys, he would never become like, obsessed with them.

The song is actually really catchy. The kind of mindlessly addictive, repetitive pop music that's the same four chords over and over, each song is so similar you can't really tell them apart, but it gets stuck in your head anyway. This group has... nine members. Who needs that many singers in one group? It's not like a band or anything, they all just sing and do their little choreography. Guess that's a form of talent, even though he doesn't really get it.

Some of the groups he sees in recommended videos are cute and wholesome, and while this group is cute too, there's a very... Blatantly intentional lewdness to their poses and costumes. A hypersexualized sort of cuteness. Clearly marketed at lonely losers who have nothing better to do with their time than obsess over a girl who will never even know they exist.

He taps another video.

So many compilations, yikes. He has to give the guys credit, they're insanely loyal to the individual member that they decide to fixate on. Oh, and they even make official figurines and posters for these girls, that's... Something.

And a few days later he can kinda recognize the girls. They have color themes, you know, identical costumes except each girl's is a different color. This lead one is red, this main backup is blue, etc etc. Lots of bright colors. Kinda hurts his eyes to be honest.

And he's seen compilations of every girl except... The pink one. The pink one is always kinda off to the side. Well, these groups do have their favoritism, there's apparently one or two lead singers in all of the major idol groups, and the rest are basically backups and dancers. Still, a lot of dudes get super devoted to the non-main girls. So yeah, he's never seen a compilation for the pink one... He can't always exactly remember which one is which but now he's seen enough to know the other girls' names. He's not sure what hers is though. So he googles it and gets the name.

Wonder why she doesn't have as many videos...? Oh, it's because she's the newest member. Only been around a few months. There's... A whole board dedicated to the group, which he's getting this information from. Wow, pathetic. What kind of person spends their free time browsing a forum for an idol group? Well, he's just doing it to find information, not for fun or anything. He was just curious. Now he knows and he can forget about it and never look at anything related to them again... after he types her name and group name into the YouTube search bar and checks the results out, that is.

Oh, so they do have some compilations for her, just not many. "(Name) thigh compilation." Fuck, these people have no limits to how creepy and pathetic they can get, he thinks... as he watches the video. Ok, admittedly there are some good thigh shots there. There's a comment. "At 4:26 you can see her panties." Pathetic. They're not wrong though. Just to be sure, you see, he tapped the timestamp, and you can, in fact, see them. Stripes. Cute.

But he still has to do his work. Can't get too invested in watching mindless videos all day. He's got a thesis to work on.

That makes him curious, though, he thinks as he goes about his research. Do these girls go to school? Do they like, skip college, or do they join some kind of performing arts school or...? So he googles it. He can remember the pink one's name now, so he just finds her Wikipedia page. Oh, so she joined right out of high school and has been in various groups ever since.

Wait, various groups? So she has more groups she's been in? What are those? Before he typed her name into the search along with the group name, but if he just searches her name he gets... A lot more content from earlier years. Huh. Didn't know some of them did group-hopping like that.

Still, no education. Must be all smiles and body and no brains. Guess that's all you really need. Yeah, looking at that whole act they do... All giggly and childish and lewd... She's probably not too bright. At least she's pretty and sings nice. And the thighs are rather good. Smooth looking. They have a sort of jiggle when she jumps up and down on stage. The thigh highs they make those girls wear have that nice little dip where the skin is compressed by the fabric. Like... right there at that closeup. He takes a screenshot.

It's readily available, he's already seen the video and knows the best parts, whereas searching for porn would take time. The sooner he can get the daily stress relief out of the way the sooner he can work on his thesis. So this way is faster. That's why he's jerking off to the thigh video and not taking the time to look for porn. Plus, it makes him cum faster. Which it probably shouldn't since it's just thighs, but... Probably has something to do with the tease of it all maybe. That makes sense.

Or maybe it's that cute little giggle he can hear at some parts. She smiles and jumps and spins and laughs.

...It makes him wonder what she'd look like crying. Scared. Whimpering. Covered in bruises and bite marks. The contrast between that state and the one on the screen. The process and the things he could do to get her from one to the other. Yeah, he realizes, it's that thought, rather than the happy giggling on video or tease aspect, that makes him cum.

He's aware that his... tastes... are a little on the fucked up side, but hey, there's plenty of bastards out there far worse than him.

One day he discovers she has social media platforms. He... Doesn't really have any. He doesn't have Twitter or Instagram or any of that but... He downloads the app and makes an account for each. Just to follow her. Ooh, they even have the option to get a notification every time she posts... That's good. Otherwise he might check too frequently. He sets a special sound effect for notifications for her socials. The first few times, you see, he would get super excited when his phone went off, only to be disappointed when it was just a work email. Thus, he made the separate sounds.

He wouldn't say he has a favorite, that sounds really cringey you know? He just... Likes her more than the others. ...Dammit, that's what a favorite is. Ok, maybe he has a favorite, that's not that bad. He's not obsessed. He hasn't bought any merchandise at all or anything, especially not member-specific merchandise. Which they do have, because he visited the store page for a while and spent all his willpower physically restraining himself from buying something. It's not that he's biased, he just thinks she's objectively better than the rest of the group. Which can be backed up with evidence, anyone with eyes could tell by watching the performances.

As to what specifically draws him to her... he's not certain, to be honest. Maybe it's because she's the least appreciated out of the group, new and all. The less popular one. Or maybe her personality... She seems so sweet, even though he knows it's probably just an act for the fans. Or maybe just those thighs. That's also a valid possibility.

He cracks and buys some of the merchandise. Only about $300 worth. But honestly, he gets more invested into just printing out pictures of you. Pasting them onto the wall above his desktop. It keeps him going when the nights are hard.

But he refrains from ever commenting on anything. Some of these losers are just... so embarrassing, he can't stomach the thought of being associated, even if it's just an anonymous comment online. It's still pretty... Distasteful. He still browses the boards every day. You're his lock screen now. And home screen. And also your solo is his ringtone. He only sets his phone on sound when he's alone at home, though, when he's at work he puts it on vibrate. He... doesn't want anyone hearing that. No offense. He has some appropriate amount of shame, unlike the other bastards.

And the girls probably know that most of their fans are these kind of loser men, right? She'd probably be surprised someone nearly graduating with a chemistry doctorate is sitting around watching these dumb videos. Is that more or less pathetic? He thinks less, hopefully.

In fact, the other fans kind of irritate him. They're really cringy and annoying and it gives him secondhand embarrassment. And something... Deeper. Something about seeing the comments upsets him on a visceral level. It's gross. Sure, he's grateful for the dudes who sit around and make a list of timestamps for upskirt shots and the like, but... It kinda bothers him, feeling like there's some other dude out there sitting around, watching these long videos with his gross eyes and recording the times of shots that get him off. It feels gross. But more like... A violation against you. Sure, your group is very blatantly sexualized and intentionally risque in clothing but... Still, it feels wrong for someone to go through and get to see all of that.

Well, someone else. It's ok for him, since he's not a gross degenerate like the rest of them. He does genuinely see himself as... Above them. You know how like, back in the day, how the nobles used to sit around and watch plays from the far back while the peasants gathered around the stage? It's like that. He's not a gross loser or a NEET or anything like that. He's got a life. Well... Not a social life, but he's doing better than them, at least he has a degree, and soon a higher degree, and a job. He has a lot of things they don't. Basic hygiene. Student loan debt. And uh... Well, he's probably more pleasant to interact with, at least he's not gonna be frothing at the mouth like an animal if he saw you in real life. He would certainly freeze up, but that's preferable, isn't it?

And one day there's a video circulating in the idol community - not that he's a part of it or anything, he just keeps getting the dumb videos and watching them for mindless entertainment - where some girl group had an attempted kidnapping. Not her group, but some other group. The video has gone viral. Some dude tried to rush the stage and pull one of the girls away. Apparently the cops found he had an obsession with her.

What an idiot. If you're gonna kidnap someone, put some effort in, jeez. It's not hard to figure out how to do it right.

If that were him, he wouldn't be that stupid, he'd just look for an interval where she's alone. They have those solo or breakout group songs where some of the girls are backstage, just get her then. Memorize the concert schedule, wear something over your face, chloroform her, and stuff her into something and walk right out. Easy.

....

He catches himself in the thought and realizes that might have been a bit creepy, but he was just thinking in terms of hypotheticals. If he was the kind of crazy to do that, that's what he'd do, that's all.

He's always enjoyed entertaining strategic thoughts, really. He's had a couple fantasies about how he would commit murders of this or that person before, and he's never murdered anyone, so thoughts don't lead to actions. He just... Really doesn't like those people, and the fantasies help him... Deal with it. He just likes to strategize about methods, and how he'd get away with it... Stuff like that. Actually, he's convinced it's a very normal thing, but no one wants to admit it. Everyone has detailed murder fantasies every now and then.

Which is why this is no different. He's just strategizing because it's fun. He has no intentions of doing anything for real. He just plans out the details like a game. And tells himself to just never think about it again.

Until one specific night that he's staring down at his screen. Lying in bed. He should be asleep, he needs to be up early tomorrow but... He's just checking to be sure he's reading this correctly. You're coming to his town? He wouldn't think so, since it's not too big, just your average college town. But still, you'll be right here, right in his general vicinity, not far away at all.

Not that he'd ever actually go to such an event. No way. He hates crowds with a passion. He hates loud environments even more. A concert is like his worst nightmare. Besides, knowing the general audience of your group, it'll be a bunch of sweaty NEET dudes who haven't showered in a month and haven't crawled out of their house in even longer. No thank you.

But.

That's when the thought pops back up. It's been a few months since that night he had that strategizing fantasy, and, well, he tried to forget it but... It kinda lingered in the back of his mind. And now it's back in full force.

He shrugs the idea off. It's crazy. He'd never actually do something like that. It was just a fantasy.

...But he could get away with it if he wanted to.

He's not scared or anything, no, he's confident in his strategizing. He knows he could. Totally. It's foolproof. There's no need to carry it out to know that, besides, what would he even do with you?

Well, he's pretty certain he does know what he would do with you. He's watched that thigh video maybe a hundred times now. And even if he won't admit it, he's jerked off to the exact same fantasy for like, several months.

He doesn't really... Think about it. Just kind of slips into subconscious actions. Autopilot. One click and well, there goes $400 on an amp case. His eyes gaze over the dimensions... And then there's your height on the Wikipedia page... Yeah... That should work. He gets it sent to the address a few doors down just in case, and snatches it from in front of their door, but he finds himself backpedaling. What the hell is he doing? He would never actually go through with this, what a waste of money... But he still opens it. Sets it beside his front door. Tests the wheels to make sure they work.

He knows how to make chloroform. He doesn't need YouTube tutorials (unlike a certain someone else), he knows exactly how to do it, even alternate methods besides the usual acetone and bleach combination - so long as you end up with the same chemical makeup, it's all the same. He just goes with the traditional way though... Doesn't really know why he does it. Just mutters as he stares down at the concoction wondering why he wasted his time... But he pauses before pouring it down the sink, and instead puts it in a container and keeps it on the counter. Your weight is on Wikipedia too. Taking into account your height and weight you would need about... Yeah, a very specific amount to knock you out for about three hours.

The concert day draws closer and closer and he can't sleep very well. His mind keeps running what-ifs. Just, hypothetically, what if he did go through with it? What then? What would he do long term? How would that all work out?

Well, you'd probably hate him for a while, right? But that changes. Stockholm syndrome sets in. He would know, he had to take Psych 101 back in undergrad, and the professor talked about it for a full 10 minutes, so he's basically an expert. It's been like, 7 years since then, but he still kinda remembers it. He remembers that it's supposed to set in at about 2 weeks, and solidify with time. If the captor is nice, that is, which he totally would be. ...Maybe not in bed, but most of the time. He would be nice to you, and you would start to like him. Besides, they said Stockholm syndrome set in faster if the abductor has good qualities, so, he could also reason with you, remind you that you're lucky you got abducted by someone with money - or, well, he will have money once he graduates! - and isn't some ugly gross slob. He's clean and neat. Sorta... He'll clean up all those dishes that have been sitting there a few days now, pick up all those clothes off the floor... Ok, now he's clean and neat. And, uh, what else would girls care about... He's smart. He's pretty sure he can say that with confidence, if nothing else.

Ok, so, it would work. He could... Keep you kinda... Tied up here... If you started complying within that two week period, he could get you up and walking before atrophy set in. You'd probably have to get used to the lifestyle... Right now he's kinda on a budget, but, he can get you things to keep you occupied... And so, yeah, it could work. It's simple, just keep you with him and isolated for a few weeks and uh, you'll transform into some kind of hypersexual obedient cumslut and never want to leave. That's... How Stockholm syndrome works right? Maybe he should have paid more attention in that class... Oh well. He never liked psychology.

So the day draws nearer and nearer and he starts really getting into the right... Headspace. It's a sort of manic state that he's in. Operating without really thinking, all inhibitions removed by simply refusing to think about it. He lets the subconscious take over and do all these little things to prepare, until finally that day is tomorrow. And then he kinda snaps back to full awareness and questions, again, what the hell is he doing? He can't just... Kidnap a person! Normal people don't do that... It's illegal, he'll get caught, it'll ruin his life and....

What life does he really have to ruin?

That's the thought that sort of solidifies the decision. He realizes why he's even on this path in the first place. Sure he's got a lot of academic accomplishments, but his life is... Rather empty. He doesn't really have anyone. Maybe that's why he's slowly become... Consumed by this obsession that yes, he's now willing to admit to himself is indeed an obsession. It's kinda slowly taken over his everyday life without him even noticing it was happening. He's... Kinda miserable. And very lonely. And... If nothing else... This one girl makes him feel kinda happy.

... Which is why he's going to go through with it.

And he slips back into autopilot, ends up standing outside the building. It's every bit as loud and headache-inducing as he knew it would be. Ugh. He can't wait to get out of here. If this doesn't work, well, he'll be forced to turn around. The plan is a very simple one, actually... Act like he's supposed to be there. And he does. Dresses in all black like stage technicians do, dragging his big amp case behind him, holding a bunch of cords from random things he grabbed in his house, and tries not to look nervous, keeps a neutral face and walks straight forward and... He slides right in. The security guards off to the side don't even bat an eye.

And then he has a moment of "well, I didn't expect to get this far." Pauses. So uh... what now? Well, probably should find you first. He memorized the setlist, so he knows when you'll be off... And alone. Right now there should be three of the girls backstage. It's pretty easy to find where you are, but he's paranoid that the amp case is too loud as he's dragging it around. It's necessary, though. And then, finally, he stumbles upon the room... Opens the door, half expecting to be immediately stopped, but... He can just kinda waltz right in here, some open backroom, a person here or there coming through, a lady that looks like a makeup artist doing something over there, and an actual, real tech guy over there... And over to the far back corner... Oh. That's you. He takes a moment to revel in the sight, unable to move or even breathe, and has to mentally prepare himself before moving forward. He's... Not sure exactly what to do at this point... It's kind of perfect, to be honest, there's no one around you, and you're right out of sight, where he could turn the corner and not be seen. But he's not sure how to... Approach? He thinks about it as he walks, but again, autopilot is on in his brain and he's just numbly walking forward. Does he just... Keep walking until he's right at you and just... Or...?

And a miracle happens. You hear someone coming and you turn and smile and ask are you the tech guy here to fix my mic? You point to the little microphone attached to your face. They told you someone would be coming to fix it before your next song. You presume that's him, since he's dressed in all black like all the other stage techs. He hesitates a moment, wide eyed, but then nods. Yeah, that's him, he says. His voice cracks when he says it. It's kinda cute.

You smile at him. It's wide and sweet and genuine and it almost makes him pass out on the spot. He has to swallow for a second before continuing.

But, uh, he can't do it right here he says, because fiddling with it could disrupt the uh, frequencies, cause that really shrill sound you hear sometimes. So, um, come over this way a sec, over in this dark corner of the studio conveniently out of the view of all people and security cameras. You don't know how any of that stuff works, so you trust him, it's his job after all. So you get up and straighten your little skirt out - wow those are even more revealing in person - and walk over it the dark corner where he's waiting and... it's the last thing you remember.

He does a quick look left and right to ensure no one saw you collapse in his arms, but sure enough, this area is empty. You fit into the amp case with ease. Just curl your body up and pop the lid on. Wait, can you... breathe in there? Well, it won't take long to get outside. He just rolls the case right out the door, right past the guards again, and no one stops him, no one suspects a thing. Puts the case in the backseat, opens the lid, does a quick check go make sure you're breathing alright. So he props it open by keeping a book in between the case and lid as he drives home.

Once he does get home, he just does the same thing he did before - close the lid, roll you into the elevator and up the stairs and into his place, looking back over his shoulder over and over. And once he gets you inside he just kinda... falls to his knees. Shivering. Disbelief. Because holy shit he actually did it. He actually went through with it and it worked. He sits there and stares at the case and - oh, fuck, gotta open it again for you to breathe. Actually, he might as well... take you out... when he first shoved you in, he was so high on adrenaline he didn't really process any of it, but now... he almost can't bring himself to take you out. That means he has to, like, touch you. He's gotta take a moment to mentally prepare for that. So he does. Deep breaths. And finally, with trembling hands, pulls you out, carries you on shakey legs over to the bed and sets you down.

You know, you're a lot... Smaller... Than you looked on screen. Sure, he knew your height and weight but... somehow you still seem so much smaller than he expected. That's good. Will make everything a lot easier, since you're easier to restrain. And your thighs. They're... so soft. This is so much better than the video. They're so... fleshy and warm in person. Perfect. And wow, that skirt thing is... scratchy. Actually, up close, that whole outfit thing you wear looks super uncomfortable. It probably is. ...Well, guess he now has a reason to take it off.

The rest of your skin is... also fleshy and soft. Warm. Your face... chest... stomach... everything. Your tits are really cute, too. It occurs to him that all those rabid commenters on all those boards and videos would probably kill to be him right now, pinching and squeezing at your nipples. He's seeing something they will never see. It gives him an ego boost, to be honest, makes him feel proud to get a sort of one-up on them. He gets you naked, but refrains from pulling your legs apart. He probably... wouldn't be able to control himself, and he's aiming for some self-control right now.

So he waits. Breathes deep. Restrains himself with every ounce of willpower he has. It occurs to him he has no fucking clue what he's gonna say to you. Unfortunately, that thought occurs to him as you're starting to twitch and mumble, so, he doesn't have too much time to think. Oh, fuck, you're not restrained... well, he bought some duct tape and handcuffs and blindfolds off of amazon too, so he quickly puts those in place as you're starting to wake up, and then finally, you come to full consciousness -- that telltale jerking at the restraints, the muffled little cry of confusion and fear. It's kinda hot to be honest. Well, fuck, very hot actually. You're so scared. It gives him a rush of power. Said rush goes straight to his dick.

He's got a mixed twist of guilt and arousal at the whole thing, but... he's still trying to have some self control... and if you start begging and pleading and crying, it would be too much. Oh, no, not that it would be too much in terms of guilt, no no, just that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from fucking you if he sees you cry. So he leaves the restraints on for now, so he can't see your face emote.

Then, he does something really, really mean. He knows it's cruel, honestly, it's just... so cute. What that is, is that he does nothing. Says nothing. He goes about his work, typing away, knowing you can hear, but doesn't say a word. He knows you're awake, he just wants to see how long you can sit there scared out of your mind before you finally make another noise to draw his attention. Right now, he thinks, you're probably debating, you're probably questioning whether you should keep quiet and make him think you're still out or make a noise... but eventually you will. He can see you trembling. You're probably thinking so many horrible things right now, wondering what will happen, what he'll do to you... it fills him with a sort of sadistic glee that overrides the guilt it comes along with. Sure, the guilt is there, but fuck, he could almost cum just watching you shiver, and that's more important.

And you finally make a noise. A little whimper. He stops typing, and swears he sees you tense when he does. And when he stands up, walks over to you (making sure to stomp hard and walk slow for extra effect, watching the way you curl in on yourself with each step he takes), and stops right in front of you. Finally, tells you not to scream. He's gonna give you water, ok? You nod. And, surprisingly, you don't make any move to scream or anything, you let him give it to you. You don't move a muscle besides your shaking and sucking the straw and swallowing the water. You must be really scared of him. He knows that's technically not what he should want, but... it feels nice.

He spent that time of silence coming up with what to say to you. He says that for now, you're going to stay right here. Don't ask questions. Don't make any attempt to escape. If you really need something, tap the headboard until he hears. Understand?

You're... Surprisingly receptive. You give a twitchy smile and stammer out an o-okay. He's almost pleased, but quickly realizes what you're doing.

You've been trained for this, you see. This kind of thing is attempted rather frequently in the industry. You received training for this situation - comply, don't fight, prioritize your safety, because in 99% of these cases, the missing idol is found and recovered within 48 hours. So you do what you were told to do -- smile, pretend you're ok with it, don't do anything to anger your captor.

He knows that too. He doesn't do much in that 48 hours, in fact, he even tells you he's waiting to "see what happens." He knows he can't control himself very well, so he stays in his living room for the most part and works on research, it might be pointless if he's in jail a few hours from now, but oh well. Sleeps on his couch. He offers to feed you, but you say you don't feel good. He understands.

See, in his mind, if he gets to fuck you once or twice and then be hauled off to prison and never touch you again, well, that would be actual, literal torture, so much so that never fucking you at all would be more bearable. So that's why he forces himself to wait now. He feels like he can't breathe, he's so nervous, like any moment police are going to come knocking on his door. Every little sound makes him jump. He can't sleep.

But 48 hours pass and... nothing happens.

He breathes a bit easier. Finally dares to go online, which he's been avoiding, and check on your situation... Oh, wow, social media has exploded over your disappearance. But... They have no leads. Nothing. Says she basically vanished out of thin air. Situation is, quote, "looking hopeless." Huh. He did an even better job than he thought he did. There's videos from loved ones begging the captor to let the girl go, offering to give him money even. A lot of money. But, you're more valuable than any monetary measurements could ever conceive. And he's happy. It really worked out. Everything went right, and for once, he has something that really, really makes him happy.

Likewise, the 48 hours are even more torturous for you. You start out telling yourself it'll be fine. Hopeful. But that hope in your chest slowly, gradually dies out as you realize you've hit the 48-hour mark. Even for a normal missing person, you've always heard that if they don't find them within 48 hours... the chances of ever finding them goes down significantly. But, that's because they're usually dead, right? And this guy won't kill you, so, your chances are better, right...?

He comes back after that 48 hours and finally, for the first time since you woke up, crawls onto the bed, touches you, grabs your hips with his hands. Tells you that, well, they haven't found anything yet and it looks like they aren't going to, so you're officially his now, and he's no longer worried. You should accept it. It'll make things easier for both of you if you do. You'll get adjusted in no time, you'll see.

Unsurprisingly, you're a bit less compliant than you were when you had hope. You whimper and and struggle, but it's really weak. So much so it's cute. You ask who he is. No one important, he says. Just... A fan of yours. You can hear clothes shuffling. He doesn't waste time, he's already waited two whole days suffering, so he gets his dick in you pretty quickly. Manages to make you cum. It horrifies you and kinda surprises him too to be honest. You must kinda like pain, huh. Well, that works out well.

As time goes on, what hope you had left dies completely. Weeks pass. You realize they're not coming for you. In an attempt to get you to accept it, he even shows you that you've been replaced. They're rather quick to fix the absence. They have a new girl in your spot by the end of the month. He quickly realizes maybe he shouldn't have told you, from the way your face falls and you get all hysterical. Sorry. It's the way the industry is. Don't worry. She's not even half as cute as you.

He shows you the announcement when they close the investigation, too. This also earns a rather hysterical response, but he thinks it's important you see it, so you can finally come to terms with your fate, the way things were always meant to turn out. He gets a bit frustrated. Just accept it. It's not that hard. The sooner you do, the happier you'll be. It's for your own good that you accept it.

And you do. Try as you might. You begin to make conversation. He's the only source of interaction you have. You learn about him and his life. You become invested in it. You start to cum more easily. When he's sitting on the opposite side of the bed typing away, you find yourself slowly wiggling your way over and pressing yourself against the warmth, and he certainly doesn't mind. You ask him about his research just to hear a voice talk.

And sometimes you sing. It's absent minded, soft and quiet, when you have nothing else to do. He likes that a lot. You get sweeter. Nicer. Fight less. It does take a bit longer than two weeks to set in fully. But it does in the end.

He can't be with you 24/7, as much as he would like to be, so sometimes he has to tell you to just hang on a little while. Be good and sit still for just a bit. He'll be back soon. Just give him an hour. You're just really distracting and, well, his progress report is due tomorrow morning.

And you keep getting upset over the new member, bring it up a lot... It must have really bothered you, huh. Well, don't feel bad about being replaced. To him, nothing could ever replace you... you're still his favorite.

[helloalycia]

teenage dirtbag [one] // wanda maximoff

summary: when you're paired with the most popular girl in your grade for Chemistry class, you definitely don't expect to start liking her like that...

warning/s: none i don't think??

author's note: okay so i have a ton of requests to work through but i got sidetracked and before i knew it, five parts of this imagine were written.

It's based off the song 'Teenage Dirtbag' and idk, i thought it was cute to write! Who doesn't love the popular girl!wanda and loner!reader concept?

Here’s a cover of the song to listen to because i really liked it and a girl sings it so it immediately made the song 10x more gay, just how i like it 🥰

masterlist | wattpad | part two | part three | part four | part five

"Are you all comfortable?"

The class stayed silent, watching our Chemistry teacher, Mr. Hale, as he looked to everyone with a raised brow.

"You all like who you're sat with?" he asked again, as if expecting an actual response from someone.

I exchanged questioning glances with my best friend, Y/BF/N, who was sat beside me. It was the first day back in Chemistry class of our final year of high school and we were just waiting to begin.

"Anyone?" he asked, looking around.

"Yeah," a few students mumbled in response so we could move on.

He clapped his hands together. "Great! Well, don't get too comfortable because I made a seating chart."

A chorus of groans erupted from the class, including from me and Y/BF/N. Every other class had successfully managed to not give us a seating chart. I'd heard that Mr. Hale was an awkward teacher who hated students (ironically), but I didn't think he'd stoop so low as to pair us with students who weren't our friends. These new seats were also our partners for the rest of the year and were non-negotiable, so any projects or work we did would have to be with our seat buddy. Fun.

Students began to shuffle to their newly-assigned seats reluctantly as Mr. Hale read out the chart. When Y/BF/N left my side, I frowned dramatically, waving goodbye to him.

"Wanda Maximoff, you're now partners with Y/N Y/L/N," said Mr. Hale, making me look up at the mention of my name.

I didn't get chance to register what he'd said as the aforementioned girl soon approached me, settling her bag on the table beside me. I looked up and saw Wanda Maximoff smiling my way before taking a seat on the stool.

Huh. Wanda Maximoff. She was one of the most popular girls in our grade. Everybody loved her, either wanting to be friends with her, be with her or be her. I'd personally never crossed paths with her apart from the few classes we shared. She seemed nice enough, but I guess I had preconceived notions of what she was like since she'd made the very poor decision to date the most obnoxious guy ever. Anyone making decisions that terrible definitely had a flaw.

She had a twin brother, Pietro, who was also in our grade and played on the football team alongside her boyfriend. Her parents were good friends with mine, through mutual friends, I think, as I recalled my mum mentioning 'Mrs. Maximoff's boy' or 'Mrs. Maximoff's girl'. And I remembered when her family moved into our town back in second grade.

Admittedly, Wanda was the star of the show back then, too. We were only kids, but child Y/N wasn't blind. She was the first girl I'd crushed on, an innocent child crush – the crush that made me realise I liked girls. Apart from that, and the fact that she had a locker behind me in the hallway, I never really thought about her.

I glanced behind me, catching Y/BF/N's gaze across the room as he sat beside some other kid. He frowned, implying he wished we were partners, and I knew just how he felt.

Once Mr. Hale finished assigning seats, he gave us five minutes to get to know our new partners as he struggled to find the powerpoint for today's class. If there was anything worse than getting assigned seats, it was ice breakers.

"Er, well, hi," Wanda greeted, turning to face me. Green eyes sparkled brightly behind a friendly smile. "I'm Wanda. But, I mean, we already know each other."

"That we do," I said with a nod, returning her smile. "How're you doing? Your summer go well?"

She ran a hand through her hair, adjusting herself so she was comfortable on her stool. And as she did, a waft of her perfume washed over me and I blinked, trying to ignore how nice it smelled. Floral. Subtle. It suited her.

"Good, yeah," she answered with a nod. "Could have gone on longer for all I care."

I chuckled. "I feel that. I'm definitely not ready to be back."

"Right?" she said with raised brows. "It's gonna take a while to get back into routine, that's for sure. But I guess I did miss seeing my friends everyday."

I hummed in agreement, eyes flickering to Mr. Hale as he attempted to tackle the oncoming stream of animations on his powerpoint. I tried not to laugh as I looked back to Wanda, who clearly noticed the same thing as me and stifled a smile.

"Have you had Mr. Hale before?" I asked, nodding his way.

She shook her head. "Nope. You?"

"Never."

"Sucks that he makes seating charts," she said with a sigh, before realising what she said and looking to me with panicked eyes. "Not that I don't like you or anything–!"

"It's fine, I get it," I cut her off with an amused smile. "I wanted to sit with my friend, too."

She breathed out quietly, a hint of relief in her eyes, and scrunched her nose with an apologetic smile. Okay, yeah, maybe that was kind of cute. Older Y/N wasn't blind either. Wanda Maximoff was beautiful, with long brunette locks and matching hazel eyes that seemed to change from blue to green to brown in a kaleidoscope of colour. A winning smile and soothing voice was enough for anyone to fall for her unintentional charm, but it was purely admiration. Everyone pretty much had a mild crush on her, you'd be stupid not to.

"If we're gonna be working together, d'you wanna get the whole awkward number exchange out the way now?" she asked, half joking, half not.

"I– er– sure," I stumbled out rather carelessly, before cringing internally. Where did that come from?

Thankfully, she didn't seem to pick up on it (or just saved me the embarrassment of acknowledging it) and was already writing her number on a slip of paper. Sliding it my way, she capped her pen and gave me her signature smile.

"Thanks," I said with a nod, accepting the paper and pocketing it. "Can't wait to start those lovely science projects we've got coming up!"

She let out a quiet laugh at my sarcasm. "It'll be fine. You're not dumb, right? So, we'll be fine."

"Can't promise you that," I joked, making her roll her eyes playfully.

"Maybe if we–"

But she was cut off when Mr. Hale spoke up loudly, interrupting everyone's conversations.

"Five minutes are up, let's begin!"

I wondered if everyone was thinking the same thing as me – that was not five minutes.

"So it begins...," I mumbled to myself, facing forward.

Wanda breathed out, a stifled laugh, probably having heard my comment, and I couldn't help but crack a smile. Maybe I judged her too harshly. She wasn't actually that bad.

—

Since being paired with Wanda, I was surprised by how much she'd made an effort to befriend me outside of class. We'd always been back to back with our lockers though not quite speaking, but since becoming Chemistry partners, she'd wish me a good morning if she caught me, or greet me briefly as we collected our books.

She didn't have to, but I could see why everybody liked her now. She was just genuinely nice. Due to circumstance, we'd become partners, but rather than leaving it at that, she made a genuine effort to befriend me. And not even just me, but also Y/BF/N, who was at the locker next to mine. He was as surprised as I was, expecting Wanda to mind her own business as we weren't exactly in the same social circles.

This was, I guess you could say, the start of our friendship. And it was a good one at that. I grew to learn how funny she was, how much she loved her brother, the passion she had for art and painting... she was a wonderful person. Which is why I didn't understand why she was with her boyfriend, Nate. He was a grade-A dick and everything Wanda wasn't. How were they a thing?

It sounds like I'm being a bitch and judgemental, but he really is the worst. The few unfortunate times I shared a class with him or caught sight of him around school, he was causing some sort of trouble with the teachers or picking on students in a way that made it seem like a joke but everybody knew it wasn't.

For example, there was a time when Wanda and I were studying for an upcoming Chemistry test we had. We decided to just help each other study since we already worked together in class, so knew we could motivate each other to actually put in the work. It was, maybe, the fourth studying session we had, and I was going over some notes when I felt her eyes watching me.

"You need a hand?" I asked, unable to take the staring any longer. I looked up at her, quirking a brow.

She seemed to fall out of her daydream and straightened up, eyes flickering to mine. "Huh?"

I gave her an awkward smile, unable to maintain her gaze. "You're staring."

She didn't seem fazed as I called her out, instead leaning back in her seat and continuing to study me curiously.

"Did you do something different with your hair?"

Subconsciously reaching for my hair, I straightened up my ponytail and shook my head. "No...?"

She chewed on her lip, saying after a pause, "You tied it up. You usually leave it out."

Did I? I wasn't sure. I just knew that her noticing something like that made me feel self conscious all of a sudden.

"It looks good," she decided, before offering up a small smile. "You should do it like that more often."

Quickly, I felt warm. Was it stuffy in here or was it just me? God, compliments already made me feel stupid. And compliments from pretty girls made me feel ten times that. It didn't help that she was watching me with an endearing expression, making me focus on my book before me.

"Thanks," I got out quickly. "I– yeah."

Her smile widened before she looked back down to her own book. Suddenly, I became acutely aware of the way her leg brushed up against mine under the table.

Thankfully, the strange fuzzy feeling following her compliment faded and we were able to get back to work without her tuning out again. As we were going over each other's practice questions, an annoying voice shouted from across the library.

"Wanda, head's up!"

"Hey, no talking in the library!" a librarian hissed at the voice.

Wanda and I looked up just in time for a football to smack me in the side of the head. I didn't even see it coming until I felt the thing slap my head, giving me an instant urge to strangle whoever threw it.

"Fuck," I cursed, holding my head and closing my eyes to breathe through the pain.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" Wanda's voice made me open my eyes and I saw her leaning forward, hand resting on my shoulder and the other on top of mine that was clutching my head.

"Been better," I admitted, trying to make light of the situation because as angry as I was at the idiot who threw it, I was also embarrassed because it hit me.

Wanda seemed concerned as she gently pulled me hand away, not letting go as she got a better look at the side of my face which I was sure was burning red. At least that's what it felt like.

"Shit, I'm so sorry."

I looked up and saw none other than Nate Green, Wanda's boyfriend, hovering and stifling a laugh as he looked at me. He had his stupid varsity jacket on and I was tempted to strangle him with it.

"I thought Wanda would catch it," he explained stupidly, before moving around the desk to collect his football.

Breathing out through gritted teeth, I pulled away from Wanda and nodded reassuringly. "I'll be fine. Just need an ice pack."

"You're such an idiot, Nate!" Wanda snapped, looking to him with a glare. "You need to watch what you're doing!"

He smiled sheepishly, making me roll my eyes and clench my jaw at the heat on the right side of my face. Fuck, that really hurt.

"What did you want?" Wanda asked him with a quirked brow. She definitely wasn't impressed. I'd hate to ever be on the wrong side of that condescending glare.

"I thought we could go out," he said like it was that simple.

"I'm studying," she quipped with crossed arms.

"I'm happy to wait," he said, toying with the ball in his hands.

Knowing I definitely didn't want that, I closed my books and said, "It's cool. You guys go. I think we're done here anyway."

Nate grinned. "See? S'all good."

Wanda ignored him and looked to me with worried eyes. "Y/N, are you sure?"

"You know your stuff," I said, referring to the work. "You'll be fine in the test. I'm sure."

I offered her a small, forced smile, before standing up to pack my bag. She did the same, beginning to pack her own things, but her eyes kept flittering towards me.

"D'you want me to go to the nurse's office with you?" she asked, shame laced in her voice.

"It's fine, I'll be fine," I said, hurrying up with my actions so I could just get out of here whilst I still had (some of) my dignity left. "See you in class tomorrow."

She nodded, sending a guilty smile my way. "See you tomorrow, Y/N."

Without giving either of them a look, I shouldered my backpack and left the library. Just another reminder of why Nate Green was literally the worst person ever.

—

Liking Wanda as more than a friend wasn't something that happened for a while if I'm being honest. I guess I started to enjoy her presence more and more the longer we spent time together.

I'd come to appreciate it whenever she'd say something completely out of the blue that made no sense whatsoever, or whenever she'd laugh at something I'd said that was arguably not funny but she didn't want to make me feel bad, or even whenever I teased her about something stupid she did, resulting in her doing that cute little nose scrunch she did. But I didn't think of it as liking her, more just a randomly-formed friendship that I was glad to have.

Maybe it was this misinterpretation that didn't make me see how I was acting around her, such as the time I was in the dinner queue at lunch when I realised she was stood behind me.

"Oh, hey, Y/N," she said when she noticed it was me in front of her. Her usual bright, friendly smile was on her lips as she looked to me. "You good?"

I nodded, returning her smile. "Yeah. Just getting some doughnuts for Y/BF/N and I. You?"

"Same," she said, before nudging the guy next to her, who I recognised as her brother. "Pietro and I thought we'd treat ourselves."

At the mention of his name, Pietro looked down to his sister before his gaze fell on me. A mischievous smile appeared on his lips as he put out his hand.

"Pietro Maximoff," he introduced. "You must be the Chemistry partner, Y/N, right?"

I raised my eyebrows with surprise as I shook his hand. "You, er, know who I am?"

He glanced at his sister with a cheeky smile. Wanda was avoiding both of our gazes, her cheeks dusting pink.

Clearly saving face for Wanda, he said, "We've been in the same grade since kids, right? 'Course I do."

Despite the truth to his words, something told me that wasn't how he knew who I was. Especially since I was sure I'd never spoken to him in my life. But, to save Wanda the embarrassment of clearly having spoken of me at home, I nodded to Pietro.

"Right," I agreed with an amused smile. "Duh."

I moved down the queue and grabbed two doughnuts from the display, putting them in two separate paper bags.

"Dibs the last one!" Pietro exclaimed as soon as I returned the clippers to the display. He reached around his sister immaturely and bagged the last doughnut.

Wanda rolled her eyes. "You know I can ask for more, right?"

Pietro grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Go on then."

The two were twins, but they couldn't have been more different. I simply revelled in their interaction, finding it adorable.

Wanda did as she said, asking the dinner lady if there were any more doughnuts in the back. Unfortunately for her, those were the last for the day, making Pietro laugh as Wanda pouted.

"Sucks to be you," he teased her, as I paid for mine and Y/BF/N's doughnuts.

"I hate you," she mumbled playfully, but I saw the disappointment in her eyes as he lovingly but annoyingly waved his bag before her eyes.

Without even thinking much of it, I held out one of the bags in my hand. "Here. You can have mine."

Wanda looked to me with surprise. "Are you sure? I can live without a doughnut, if that's what you're thinking."

I chuckled, grabbing her hand and making her take it. "It's okay. I wasn't in the mood anyway."

Plus, you look better when you're smiling and not pouting, I added in my head.

She accepted the bag reluctantly. "I– thanks. At least let me pay for it–"

"It's just a doughnut, Wanda," I teased, before nodding her way. "See you later."

Leaving her and Pietro to it, I headed back to the table Y/BF/N was sat at and took a seat opposite him before giving him his doughnut.

"Sweet," he said, quickly opening the bag before realising I didn't have one. "Where's yours?"

Over his shoulder, I saw Wanda and Pietro taking a seat at their lunch table, doughnuts in hand and a heartwarming smile on Wanda's lips.

"They ran out," I answered Y/BF/N. "Wasn't in the mood anyway. Enjoy."

He shrugged before digging in. I'd like to say I didn't spare glances in Wanda's direction every now and then for the rest of the lunch hour, but I'd be lying if I did.

—

I'm in the art department. You okay to bring it here?

I read over the text Wanda sent me before shooting her an 'okay' and heading to the Art department. I'd grabbed her notebook in class earlier on, only realising as I was studying with Y/BF/N in the library and pulled out an extra one, so I was going to give it her back.

I guess, when you realise you like someone, it comes randomly, suddenly, without warning. Liking someone isn't instant, it's constant and gradual and subconscious. I guess I'd been falling for Wanda for a while, without even realising, but today was the day I acknowledged that fact.

The Art department wasn't somewhere I frequented regularly – give me a paint and brushes and I'd probably present you with a finger painting – but it was definitely worth the visit. Art pieces from current and past students were hung on the walls, a mural of the school was spray painted on another, and sculptures stood around. The whole department brought a smile to anyone's face with its bright colours and open space – I could see why Art students always hung out here, Wanda included.

Speaking of Wanda, I found her in one of the classrooms sat at a stool in front of a series of canvasses. The room had a few other Art students littered around, working on their own pieces during their lunch period, otherwise it was empty.

"Hey," I called, getting her attention as I approached her.

She followed my voice and straightened up with a cheery smile. "Y/N, hey. Thanks for coming. I'm working on my Art project, so I couldn't pull myself away."

I waved my hand dismissively, joining her side. "It's all good, don't worry." My eyes wandered to the series of canvases on easels she was working on and widened. "Holy shit, these are so good."

Three unfinished hyperrealistic portraits of people were before us, one whom I recognised as Pietro. The paintings were so detailed, despite their medium-size, and I couldn't imagine how long they must have taken.

"You think?" she asked, glancing between them. "I think I messed up the nose here." She pointed with the back end of her paintbrush to the nose of Pietro. "It's a bit bent."

I almost laughed as I looked to her with disbelief. "Are you kidding? Wanda, these are amazing. How did you even do this?"

She looked down bashfully, a nervous smile on her lips. "I don't know. It's for a project. I chose to do family portraits." She pointed to each one as she said, "My mum, my dad and my brother."

I was in awe of her talent, jaw dropped with amazement still. I always knew she was an artist, but I'd never actually seen her work. I was starting to wish I'd come here a lot sooner.

"So, you got my notebook?" she asked, pulling me back into reality.

I looked away from the paintings reluctantly before getting her notebook from my bag and holding it out for her. As she accepted it, she must have forgotten she was holding her paintbrush as the tip brushed my wrist, leaving a swipe of red there.

"Oh, my bad," she said with a laugh, before setting her notebook and brush down and grabbing a paper towel from beside her.

Wetting it with water from her bottle, she pressed it to my wrist and swiped the paint away. It was such a mundane action, but the way her fingers gently held my wrist and emanated a warmth only she seemed to carry sent shivers down my spine.

I glanced up at her, letting her do it, and noticed the swipe of paint she had across her cheek, as if she'd touched her face without realising.

Now that I paid attention, I noticed how cute she looked in her Art getup. An old, oversized shirt covered in paint was being worn to cover her clothes, sleeves loosely rolled up to her elbows. Her long hair was tied back into a ponytail, but her baby hairs framed her forehead adorably.

When her hair wasn't in her face, her eyes only seemed more intense, glistening with excitement and happiness. I almost forgot to breathe when they met mine briefly, a hint of embarrassment there from when cleaning me up. She was in her element here and it made sense to me now.

I knew I'd fallen for her.

—

"You don't get it," I was saying to Y/BF/N as we hung about the school gym, waiting for the teacher to start the lesson. "It's bad. I like her. Like, like like her."

Y/BF/N laughed, clapping me on the back with pity. "You're screwed."

I frowned. "I know."

As he stretched for class, he continued, "I mean, I get it, I do. She's super nice. Pretty. And you guys seem to get on."

I chewed on my lower lip worriedly.

He gave me a knowing look. "There's one problem though."

I groaned, running a hand down my face. "I know, I know. She's got that dick of a boyfriend."

He chuckled. "That's one way to put it."

I sighed, crossing my arms with annoyance. Since realising I liked Wanda as a little more than a friend, things weren't going well for me. Whenever we worked together, I'd forget what I was thinking because I was too busy admiring her side profile or getting lost in her eyes. If she spoke about the work, told a joke or was simply speaking her thoughts aloud, I'd focus on every little thing she was saying, knowing I could listen to her speak all day. It was bad, but thankfully I hadn't stumbled over my words or made a total fool of myself in front of her. I was determined to not let it get that far.

My eyes wandered around the gym as Y/BF/N tried to give me advice, but admittedly, his words flew in one ear and out the other when I caught sight of Wanda.

She was standing with her friends, smiling and laughing to whatever they were saying. Like everyone else in here, she was wearing her gym kit – black athletic shorts and a blue and white tee shirt, the colour of our school. It wasn't anything special, yet she made it seem that way, outdoing anyone in here. Her brown hair was tied back, the ponytail falling down her back, showing her stunning profile and making my mouth go dry.

Another clap on the back from Y/BF/N pulled me from my reverie and I looked to see he was laughing at me.

"Majorly screwed," he corrected his previous comment.

He was definitely right.

[the-weirdos-mind]

League of Villains X Teen! Reader: You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid

Songfic of the song with the same name by The Offspring. Here’s the reader’s quirk: 

 Quirk- Manipulation

Type- Emitter

How it works- Similar to Aizawa’s and Nighteye’s quirks you have to look someone in the eye to get them under control. They’re unaware that you’re controlling them but still aware of their senses. When you have someone under control you can do whatever you want with them until you either look away from that person (it doesn’t always have to be eye contact), blink, or release them. Whenever someone is under your spell, it’s like being trapped in a room with one-way glass. They are aware of what’s going on but, can’t get help. 

Drawbacks- If you use the power for more than an hour you’ll get a headache. If you push yourself you’ll get a migraine. You can choose when to activate it and for how long but the time still adds to an hour no matter how many times you activate it in the day.

Trigger warnings: Blood and use of violence, if I’m missing anything then let me know so I can correct it 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Show me how to lie You're getting better all the time And turning all against the one Is an art that's hard to teach

    You followed Giran down the hallway to an unknown place. You had the hood of you (F/C) on to hide your (H/L) (H/C) hair with your eyes on the ground. You watched as foot after foot in (F/C) shoes put pressure on the dirty ground. You mentally sighed as you reflect your life choices. You didn’t want to live this life but everyone around you saw your quirk as one thing; villainous. You got tired of the words and became what they wanted you be. You realized that heroes are worthless and they didn’t care that a young (boy/girl/person) was heading down a dark path. You glanced up to see the man opening the door. You immediately looked down and followed him in the room.

     Side glancing at the room you noticed it was a bar. There was a purple cloud like man with yellow eyes in a suit and a metal brace around his neck. He was polishing a glass behind the bar. On a red stool was another man holding a glass of alcohol. He had his pinky raised away from the glass though and you silently raised an eyebrow. Is this because of his quirk or is he British? His shaggy blue hair was covering most of his face but when he turned to face the two, you saw a pale hand covering his face and his red eyes glaring at you. You glanced down at the floor. Not yet.

    “You seriously brought a child?” He asked setting the glass cup down. “You do know that this is for mature adults? And (she/he/they) can’t stare at me in the eyes? How rude.” His voice was raspy and you concluded he was holding the glass like that was because of his quirk.

  “Shigaraki, this is (Y/N), I brought (him/her/them) cause (he/she/they) need some training with (his/her/their) quirk.” Giran said and took a drag from his cigarette. He exhaled and a smoke cloud came in the room. “(He/She/They) is getting better at it but, (he/she/they) still needs some help.”

    You rolled your eyes at him. “At least I don’t treat kids like they’re nothing.” You mumbled still bitter about Shigaraki’s comment.

     “What was that?” The blue haired man asked, dangerously.

     “So, you’re deaf huh? I thought an excellent leader would treat a new recruit with respect no matter the age they are.”

Another clever word Sets off an unsuspecting herd And as you get back into line A mob jumps to their feet

    “Shut up.” Shigaraki muttered and scratched his neck. He was stressed about the trouble this kid was causing. Sure he and Dabi didn’t get along but he liked being in control. “(He/She/They) is mature for (his/her/their) age.” Giran said. “Maybe with (him/her/them) as leader it won’t be bad.” He added. He knew what you were doing. If you get him mad enough to get him to look at you in the eye then you can show off your quirk. You did keep your mouth shut as the man stood up and walked over to you. You looked at him in the eye and a (F/C) hue came to your (E/C) eyes. His eyes begin to fog up a little, not enough to appear blind but enough to look suspicious.

Now dance, ****er, dance Man, he never had a chance And no one even knew It was really only you

     Shigaraki barely saw the change of your eye color. He was so surprised to started dancing. His feet moved in a fast pace in place. “What the ****!?!” He yelled, only in his mind. Dabi started laughing again. The scarred man leaned over clutching his stomach. He’s laughing so hard he might start crying, or blood will fall from his destroyed tear ducts, if he’s not careful. After a few minutes of dancing you blinked to end the curse on him. They didn’t know that you caused it to happen. Giran smirked and patted you on the head. “What the h***?” The man asked looking around, wondering what just happened.

    “That is (his/her/their) quirk at work.” He man said before the other could get angry. “With a power like (hers/his/theirs) would be useful for heist situations and causing diversions wouldn’t it?”

    “What is (his/her/theirs) quirk?” The wisp man asked.

    “Manipulation.” You said. “Whenever I look at someone in the eyes it activates my power. I can hold control of them for at least an hour before I get a headache. Best part is no one knows that they’re under my grasp.” You said.

    “I’ll admit that I’m impressed.” Shigaraki said. “Welcome I guess.”

    Giran smiled. “You won’t be disappointed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And now you steal away Take him out today

   After a few weeks of joining the League you’re on your first solo mission. Before this one you were mainly paired with a blonde haired girl named Toga. She was pretty nice when she wasn’t obsessing over blood or trying to stab you. Other times you were paired with a man named Twice. He would say two different things and it would give you mixed feelings about a job well done.

    You walked through the area of the city to a hero agency. Your job is to find maps of the inside and steal them. Shigaraki didn’t care if they were on paper or not all he cared about was getting them, It’s pretty simple to do but considering this is you, you had a knife and a handheld gun just in case if things went south. So far it was going well. You got a security guard under control and using him you were able to get a computer with the building’s layout on it. Pulling out a flash drive that Compress had given you, you stuck it in the computer and start downloading. Unfortunately, you looked away from the guard and he glared at you.

    “I don’t know your plan here kid, but it’s best if you leave now.” He said. He did try to alert someone but it was useless, he was trapped in his mind until you looked away. You looked at him and put your hand in your pocket with the knife.

    “I don’t think so.” You said. Before he could call for backup you pulled the knife out and threw it at his chest. He gasped at the impact of the knife and slumped to the floor. Blood was falling from the wound fast, staining his shirt and forming a puddle. Thankfully there was a ding as the data had finished uploading to the flash drive. You walked over to the computer and pulled it out. You smirked as you pocketed it and pulled the knife out from the guard. You left the building leaving behind a guard slowly bleeding to death.

Nice work you did You're gonna go far, kid

    You walked back into the hideout and put the flash drive on the bar next to Shigaraki. He nodded at you when he saw it. “Good job. A win for us.” He said and carefully pocketed the piece of tech.

    “And in an hour too.” Spinner said.

    “That’s really impressive!” Twice said. “It’s not that impressive.”

    You feel a hand clamp on your head and ruffle your hair. “Not bad, kid.” Dabi said. He could tell you’re gonna go far in the villain industry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With a thousand lies And a good disguise Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes

   You had gotten in the school with one of the best lies you have, your parents went there. It wasn’t U.A. but it’s also training people for the hero industry. The plan was to get the best marks in the school and transfer to U.A. as the highest in your class. Giran came into play for making fake documents that pass off as real.

    The one on one fight that took place with some kid you didn’t even bother to know was annoying. His quirk was something water related and you almost drowned a couple of times. You finally looked at him in the eye and ordered him to stop. You ran up to him and punched his face, in the between the eyes a couple of times. The first one stun him while the other knocked him out.

When you walk away Nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives

   You panted and wiped the sweat away from your forehead. You walked away from the ring where the training took place and looked at everyone else. They looked away from you in fear and parted like a body of water. You swore you saw someone running for their life. You smirked to yourself and took your seat on the bleachers. Pride danced in your eyes like lightning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly out of line And drifting closer in your sights So play it out I'm wide awake It's a scene about me

  The first thing the infamous Class 1-A noticed about you is how secretive you were. You shared nothing about yourself other than your name and quirk. They noticed that you did some… shady things to put it mildly. Some noticed you snuck out of the dorms at night. Idia, Miydoriya, Bakugo and Todoroki had followed you to an alleyway and heard you talking to some shadowy figure there. Both spoke in soft whispers that they couldn’t tell who you were talking to and whether or not they were male or female. Other than that occurrence, they didn’t get anything else.

   About a week later, the League attacked UA. You had managed to get them in through your student ID and gave them full access to the school, by a really good copy of the little plastic card. Five minutes prior to the attack, you had excused yourself from math, who needs it anyways, and went to the bathroom. While the lockdown was going on, you met with Toga in the halls. The plan was to get to All Might and kill him, the typical plan made by the man child of a leader you have. You both heard footsteps running towards you and saw it was the class president, Iida. “(L/N), get away from her!” He yelled, doing his hand chop thing. You smirked and took out the dagger the blonde handed you. “No, I don’t think I will.” You responded. Time to shine.

There's something in your way                                                                       And now someone is gonna pay And if you can't get what you want,                                                              Well, it's all because of me

    He stood there, shell shocked at the sight before him. His classmate was a villain? You couldn’t use your quirk yet, anyways. You decided to let the scene play out. You let a dark chuckle seeing his face. “All my life I’ve been told that I was best suited for a villain. You know, you could’ve used the time you knew me to get to know me but, everyone treated me the same as before! It’s too bad that things had to end like this. Wait, no it’s not that bad. You and your class are gonna pay!” You yelled. You lunged at him and he dodged as he snapped out of his shocked state.

    “(Y/N), it doesn’t have to be this way!” He said and continued to dodge the blade. He was still surprised and didn’t attempt to fight back because he couldn’t believe the suspicions about you were true. You growled in frustration. “It’s too late for me anyways. You can’t turn me to the light.” You said and looked at him in the eyes and yours started glowing (F/C). He almost let out a gasp but it didn’t leave his body as his eyes fogged up a little.

Now dance, ****er, dance, man, I never had a chance And no one even knew, it was really only you And now you'll lead the way

   You smiled as the class representative had fallen for your trick. “Now, we’re going back to the class, and you’re going to act like everything is alright.” You ordered.

   He nodded. “Yes, (Sir/Ma’am/Other).” He said, voice coming out robotically. He set off to find his class and you followed him, due to your power. The irony of the situation was almost amusing to you. Almost. The head of the class, now a puppet. A puppet that can dance to whatever twisted moves that you have set for it.

Show the light of day Nice work you did You're gonna go far, kid Trust deceived

    You followed him down the twisting paths of the hallways to the rest of the class. Your gaze fixed on the back of his head. You knew Toga was going to inform everyone else that everything was according to plan. Finally, the two of you reached the hiding area where everyone else was. “Thank goodness you found, (him/her/them!)” You heard Izuku said. Then he noticed that something was off about his classmates. You were refusing to look at anybody else than the boy in front of you and Iida’s looked dazed. Like he was… under someone’s control.

    The greenette’s eyes widened. His classmate was… no. He had his suspicions but the truth is hard to handle. Before he could say anything, Iida gave him a swift kick in the face.

With a thousand lies and a good disguise Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes

    They stood there in surprise and shock. A blanket of fear had covered them, making them stand there like statues. The only sounds were the groans of Miydoriya and the thud of his body hitting the ground. “I-Iida.” Ochaco stuttered in fear. No one had expected the class president to attack their classmate outside of training. The blue haired boy then hit the nearest person, Mineta, giving him a punch to the cheek. No one really reacted to that. In all honesty, the grape had it coming.

When you walk away, nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives

     While they were distracted, you used the opportunity to leave. It didn’t matter if Iida was going to spill the secret you kept from them. That s*** was already out. You smirked to yourself knowing which side of the street you belong in.

Now dance, ****er, dance, he never had a chance And no one even knew, it was really only you So dance, ****er, dance, I never had a chance It was really only you

    The mission went out as planned. It was only a ploy to strike fear in the hearts of citizens. After all, an attack with no causalities is far worse with ones that do. You now sat at the bar, a bottle of water in your hand. You may be a criminal but the age of drinking consent is something that you can’t argue with.  No matter how hard you tried. The news was on talking about the event. Everyone was able to get away without anyone being caught. Call it luck or whatever but, you’re thankful that they did. The anchorwoman was talking about how a student was involved with the League and helped out. A picture of your face appeared on the screen and you smirked. It wasn’t a school photo but a mugshot from a previous capture. One you managed to get away from. No one even suspected you, or so you think, but regardless it’s wonderful to see.

With a thousand lies and a good disguise Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes

    You couldn’t help but chuckled remembering the looks on each of their faces. What they thought was a classmate was really playing a part. A perfect disguise if you asked yourself. You have the innocent looking (boy/girl/person) appearance and if anyone who didn’t know you found out about your job. It would’ve made you laugh as not everything is as it seems.

    Your fists tingled as they remembered the feeling of their face contacting your skin. You placed the hand that held the plastic bottle on top of the other’s knuckles. The feeling is something you’re going to remember for a long time.

When you walk away, nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives

  A pair of footsteps came walking in and you dropped your hands to your lap. You see Shigaraki walking into the bar holding a folder, with a finger away from it as always. You know it could only mean one thing. “Another mission?” You asked, voicing your thoughts. The boss nodded and handed it to you.

     “Go over it and be ready for when the time comes. You did good on your last mission, keep up the good work. You’re a valuable character.” He said before walking away. You weren’t sure if the last sentence was a praise or another video game term but regardless you nodded.

     “Will do.” You said and opened it up, wondering what will be to cause more fear in the people. And more pride in yourself. Each success makes you happy.

Clever alibis, Lord of the Flies Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes

   You almost busted out laughing seeing  which role you were supposed to play. An innocent citizen who loves all the hero crap. You won’t be alone this time, having Toga to accompany you on this one. You felt excited for the mission. It would mean more people will realize what idiots heroes truly are. The truth will knock them down from the clouds.

When you walk away, nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives

   But right now, it’s time for a nap. The last mission tired you out. You took the folder with you and walked to your room. All that matters right now is a bed, a blanket, and wonderful dreams of a world where people run in fear from you.

[rebrandedbard]

could I get 49 for the prompts pleaseeee? (:

*weeping* Em, I love you, defending my honour, giving me a way out. You’ve spared me my dignity.

49. “Well this is awkward ...”

WC:  2106

Tidings and Tarradiddles

Jaskier returns to Posada and his path crosses with Geralt’s once more after the unfortunate affair on The Mountain™

-

How was it? Truly, how was it that of all places on the great, wide Continent, Geralt should come to take a contract in Posada, at the farthest of reaches, after months and months of separation, on the one day Jaskier should be in town? And how was it that he’d come the only hour Jaskier had lingered for a drink? It was too great a coincidence, and Jaskier would not give Destiny the credit. She’d not earned the right to claim it. Jaskier scorned her and had stripped her of the right to interfere in any of his further adventures. After all, Geralt had blamed him for her follies—follies which, by rights, Geralt had brought upon himself in the first place.

Even so, he could feel Destiny’s audaciously long and twitchy nose poking about his business the moment Geralt walked through the tavern door. Jaskier huddled in his corner, hoping the shadows were darker than they had been the day he’d found Geralt hunched beneath them. He ought to have known better than to come in the first place. There had been a whole flock of magpies in the middle of the bridge leading into town—a tiding of magpies. Detestable harbinger of tidings, foul and fair. They’d startled at the sight of him and alighted once more on the tavern roof. But he’d ignored their superstitious warning.

Of course the shadows were of no use to him. The moment Geralt stepped inside, Jaskier saw him twitch, cocking an ear his direction. Probably heard the familiar grinding of his teeth: an annoying habit he so often complained of. Jaskier curled up against the wall, trying to make himself smaller to blend in with his surroundings.

For once, it was not so difficult. He’d grown out his hair, had even maintained a healthy bit of scruff on his face in keeping with the stylings of his fellow tavern-goers. He was tired and worn, but above all, he was plain. He no longer wore bright colors, standing out like a beacon in the dark of night. He wore his linen dyed a plain, sensible, muted green. The jerkin on his back was brown and of a practical fit. Altogether, it did not so much scream of sensibility as it mumbled. If he kept his head low enough, he might pass as just another local come in for a pint.

But he was not just another local.

Geralt stopped before his table, standing at Jaskier’s elbow. The click of metal upon the table made Jaskier look up from his drink. It was a coin, spinning round and round. It wobbled and fell on its face, the etching of a worn coat of arms before him.

“Will … will you sing for us, bard?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier stared at the coin. His ears began to fill with cotton, a faint ringing in them. A flash of hot blood coursed through him and he ground his teeth to a halt. He knew this was Geralt’s way of easing into things, working towards something, whether or not an apology was waiting at the end. He knew this was Geralt offering him an out. It was distant. Impersonal. But even in the depths of his rage, Geralt had called him by name. To call him bard and toss a coin to him like some stranger now … it flamed something red and barbaric to life under his skin. He was so deafened by the blood in his ears, he did not hear the approach of the figure standing at Geralt’s side.

“Well, this is awkward,” Jaskier sneered. He picked up the coin, twiddling it between his fingers. Putting up an impassive mask, he juggled the coin over his knuckles in his best impressive manner, as if it were nothing but a worthless toy. “You see,” he said, “I’m not a bard.”

Geralt was quiet a moment. Jaskier could feel his eyes roaming over him. It raised his hackles to know what Geralt must see: the dark circles under his eyes, the lines of age now more pronounced with exhaustion, crow’s feet so defined they might as well have been dug by the claws of vultures. And then, Geralt must have taken notice at last. Gone were the bold silhouettes and blinding colors, gone were the perfumes and oils—but there was one thing more important than all the rest that was missing.

“Your lute,” Geralt said.

There it was. “Gave it up this very afternoon,” Jaskier replied. He slapped the coin down on the table and leaned back, snatching up his half-empty mug. “I travelled a long way to return it home; Filavandrel has it now.”

He took a drink, still avoiding eyes contact. He continued, mumbling over the rim of his mug. “Had a visit. They’re doing better than they were when last we met. I helped them dig rocks from their crop fields for an hour or two. Figured as long as I was shovelling things, I might as well master the art. Use it productively.”

He was being petty. He knew he was, but by the gods, he’d earned it.

When at last he looked up, he did so because he saw a hint of blue beside the table. The potmaid had been wearing a blue dress, and he thought he now saw his escape. He slid his mug to the edge of the table and lifted his head to ask for it to be taken away when he saw a familiar pair of green eyes looking back at him.

“Cirilla?” he asked, surprised. He blinked at the princess, who looked down at the table as his eyes fell upon her. He remembered her as someone taller, regal head held high, smiling, her hair half up in decorative braids and twists. This was not a princess before him, but a girl: her hood casting shadows upon her hollow face. It seemed wrong. She had always been a girl, but a girl with a name. This creature before him stood as a reflection of himself, a thing wishing to hide away, nothing more than a shell.

She glanced up at him, then down once more. Slowly she raised her hand to the table and placed it over the coin. She pushed it towards him with a quiet slide, then dropped her hand once more. “He said you sing wonderful,” she muttered, as if she had not heard him singing in Cintra’s court nearly every midsummer since birth.

Jaskier’s voice stuck in his throat. The memory of a song sat heavy on his tongue. “I … I don’t sing anymore,” he grit out. He turned to look away again, staring at the crack between his bench and the wall. “Can’t sing without music anyway. Might as well be poetry.”

Having no music left him exposed. There was nothing to lift him up, nor anything to hide behind. He could sing among the crowd and raise his voice to join a drinking song, but there was something vulnerable about singing alone. Who sang among bar patrons without some barrier? Even the drunks had their drink to shield them.

He saw Geralt shift out of the corner of his eye. Something new slid across the table, stopping just short of his hand. He looked and saw one of his old notebooks.

“You write good poetry,” Geralt said.

Jaskier scoffed and picked up the notebook. “If there were anything in this worth keeping, I would have remembered to bring it with me when I went down the mountain.” He flipped through the pages, then let the notebook flop back on the table. “You obviously have poor taste,” he huffed.

Without warning, Geralt picked up the notebook and thwacked him on top of his head with the cover.

“Gah! Hey!” Jaskier shouted. He stood up and snatched the book back, smacking Geralt’s arm with it. “What in fuck’s name did you do that for, you brute!”

But he’d looked at Geralt, forgetting to snub him if only a moment. And Geralt plucked the book from his hand with an upward quirk of the lips. “It’s worth keeping,” he said. He handed the book to Ciri, who clutched it tight to her chest in agreement, but still, she looked at Geralt with a stern expression.

“That wasn’t what you were supposed to say,” she scolded.

Geralt’s eyes rolled back and he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Not to me.”

Geralt opened his eyes. He looked at Jaskier, opening his mouth to speak once more. But the look on Jaskier’s face stopped him. Instead, he turned to the door, stalking quickly across the room, words aborted on his tongue.

Jaskier gaped.

“Geralt!” Ciri called. “Where are you going?”

“Just wait here.”

“Geralt!”

“Dinner. I’ll be back in the hour.”

Ciri threw up her hands and dropped onto the opposite bench. She slammed Jaskier’s notebook down on the table and crossed her arms over it. She groaned in frustration, then turned her head to look out at the tavern floor.

“Have you had dinner yet?” she grumbled.

Jaskier looked between her and the door, feeling quite at a loss. “No,” he replied.

“Then you can eat Geralt’s share.” She rummaged in her cloak and pushed a little drawstring bag into his hands. “Here, he left me his purse.”

“And left you from the look of things. Shall I charge him for babysitting?”

“Do. And order another drink.”

Jaskier snorted. “Trying to get me to stay?” He wasn’t so irresponsible as to leave a child alone, even with the threat of Geralt’s return. He didn’t need to be persuaded.

“No. Punishing him for running out; you get his drink into the bargain. Think of it as sending him to bed without supper.”

“I’ll drink to that. It’s the least of the punishments I could inflict.”

They both chuckled mildly at that. A bit of the dense atmosphere lifted and they shared a look. Jaskier cleared his throat and waved for the potmaid. He ordered fare for the two of them, a mug of ale for himself, and a cup of small beer for Ciri. Once they’d both had a bite, they began talking. They traded stories: how Ciri came to Geralt’s care, and what Jaskier had been doing since the separation. Though the conversation was tense, it felt … good … to have a bit of company. He’d been worried since word of the fall of Cintra had reached him. At least Destiny had brought Ciri to Geralt safely. He hoped Destiny would be kind to her where it had failed him.

Jaskier startled when Geralt returned. He’d crept up so silently. Jaskier had been listening to Ciri describe her most recent success in outdoor cooking and hadn’t noticed the movement beside him. Geralt set the lute on the table in front of Jaskier’s empty plate with a sudden thunk, not a word of explanation. He stood there silently, holding the lute upright by its neck.

No one spoke.

Jaskier simply stared at it, felt Geralt stare at him. But this time, he refused to look up. Slowly, Geralt lay the lute down on the table, then slipped away. A minute passed, everything still and quiet. Then, Jaskier peeked out of the corner of his eye and saw Geralt nudge Ciri, nodding his head toward the door.

Ciri looked at Jaskier, her brow anxious and furrowed. She clutched her cup, nearly finished, her plate barren. He could see her mind at work, trying to find an excuse to stay. But she set her cup down obediently. As she turned to stand, she left the notebook behind. Eyes downcast, she slumped to her feet. Geralt held out his hand for her, no longer looking at Jaskier. The moment Geralt’s back was turned, Jaskier felt a cold panic run through him.

“Wait!” he said, fumbling to his feet.

Geralt froze, turning his head back slightly to listen.

But for what? Jaskier reached out, hesitating. He picked up his lute, finding the coin beneath it. The noise made Geralt turn back and Jaskier met his eye. He’d never seen Geralt look so blank, completely unreadable.

Jaskier slung the strap of the lute over his head. He pushed the coin deliberately into his pocket and braced his hands on the strings. When he looked at Geralt again, there was the barest crack in his armour, and hope shined dimly through. Jaskier smiled. It was a timid thing, but he still remembered how it was done.

“You asked for a song,” he said.

-

Send me a drabble prompt!

[mrdanielbond]

Wild Nights, Wild Hearts (One-Shot?)

“Mystery man”

[Main characters: Mikael Blomkvist X Reader]

Plot: It is time to head back to work as a lecturer at your university after a successful first semester. Unfortunately for you, one of your guest lecturers is a familiar face from a wild night out…

[A/N: Wrote this ages ago and thought, hey why not? Okay, so I don’t know if this is going to be an actual thing. Like I assume it’s going to be a one-shot. Plus, in all fairness, Mikael is my favourite non-Bond character of Daniel’s, so I thought it’s time to appreciate this man in all his glory. I hope you enjoy this! Let me know what you think?]

Music continued to boom through the speakers. The flashing lights and smoke was intense, but you didn’t care. As long as you were still with your friends, celebrating a birthday amongst the group, that's all that mattered. What also helped was the fact your sultry look managed to get you quite a few free drinks from the bartender. You weren’t used to this kind of attention, often keeping a natural look. However, this was your friend and co-worker’s birthday. You wanted to spice things up and look incredible for her. Of course, when Maisie saw you for the first time, she was surprised. In fact, her jaw dropped at how glamorous you looked. “Girl what the HELL! After Florence Pugh, you are a woman I’d proudly fuck.” You remember her particularly saying and that was the start of an incredibly wild night.

“Javier, can I get another tequila please!” You scream with excitement at the bar, Javier proudly pours you your sixth tequila shot.

“This one’s on the house my darling,  Y/N.” He pushed the shot glass in front of you and your eyes widen with excitement. You had to admit, you do have a thing for tequila so this man feeding you free drinks made the night all the better.

“You spoil me.” You winked as you took the shot and walked off to join the rest of your friends.

The night followed with more dancing and more drinks between your friends. At some point on the floor, you started to get tired and your craving for more drinks kicked in because you found yourself at the bar once again. This time you were looking for something more than a shot. “Okay, so it’s like a sex on the beach but like so much fruiter, like with strawberries!” You tried to explain but in your drunken state, Javier couldn’t help but laugh as he struggled listening to you.

“You know what? You tell me what to do and I’ll make it for you.” He said and a devious grin appeared on your face. So you watched, instructing him on how to make your special cocktail and when he finished, he threw a small umbrella inside it to serve you. You sipped it and couldn’t help but moan. It was glorious...Well maybe it would’ve been if you could taste it at all.

“Can I have what she’s having?” A baritone voice said beside you. You turned with your eyebrow raised. “And I’ll pay for hers.”

He reached into his wallet, still looking into your eyes as he handed Javier his card. You weren’t sure whether it was the alcohol or the fact you were practically pushed against each other with how packed the bar was but this man was...incredibly handsome. Rugged dirt blonde hair, bright blue eyes that gave you butterflies and his dark blue shirt didn’t help as you couldn’t help but stare at his chest from time to time. Javier turned back to make your drink for the stranger and handed it over to him. “If you’re going to have a cocktail, you’ve got to get it right. Strawberries with the ice.” He said with a smirk but you couldn’t hear him. Not with the music blasting over you...and his dreamy eyes. “What?” You tried to shout out. “I said-” He could barely get a word out in all the noise and you could see it. Quickly, you grabbed his hand and pulled him to a quieter table in the corner. “That’s better - wow.” He suddenly stopped himself when he took another look at you. “You’re really beautiful.” “Smooth.” You chuckled. Alright, so at this point, usually you would say thanks and dip to find your friends. However, this man, bless him, appeared mesmerized by you. He was in awe of you and not just looking at your chest or your figure as though he were some creep. You both hadn’t realised you were still holding hands, leaning into each other.

“Hey, that’s unfair! I’m not usually bold with women.” Something about the mystery man was telling you he was honest. “The strong and silent type is full of surprises.” He said and you swear to god, you could see even he knew what he was doing with that statement. To be honest, he was right. With those eyes, he wouldn’t have to say a single word to get you to go home with him. Throughout the night, you both kept rambling to each other about everything and nothing but you were both having fun, laughing together and putting each other at ease. Your friends must’ve noticed you because they were all staring at the two of you in awe, sharing drinks together, leaning into each other. Then ‘Someone New’ by Hozier began to play. Oh no. Any slow song that played while you were next to a man was a recipe for disaster. The mystery man ,on his high, pulled you closer. “Oh no, I can’t go out there!” You said. “Come on, what happened to that confidence I saw earlier?!” He laughed. “Listen, I can pick and choose when I want to be brave!” You snapped back. “Why are you so bold all of a sudden?!” “What can I say? You bring out a new side to me.” He laughed and before you could fight back, he managed to bring you to the floor. You couldn’t tell him why this was a bad idea but...maybe it wasn’t now you were in his arms, moving around the floor. He held you close and you didn’t want to leave. Not with the high of the drinks and after such a good night filled with laughter. Who knows? Maybe when you wake up the next day, you’d regret it. But for now, you were going to appreciate being here with him...but now you were filled with anticipation, you were craving something. Uh oh. You were craving him. Suddenly, a surge of confidence filled you and you looked up at him. He had already been looking at you. Quickly, he leaned in and you found yourselves kissing with a raw, fiery passion that remained unmatched. You could tell how much he wanted you. In fact, you could feel it as he pressed you against him. But you didn’t care. You ran your fingers through his hair, now the heated kiss becoming lazy until you bit his lip, catching him by surprise. When you pulled back breathlessly, he smirked. “Oh shut up, I know what you’re going to say.” You playfully pushed his chest.

The hangover the next day was going to be ridiculous but you didn’t care. The mystery man had you all over him, and he? All over you.

Rain violently bounced against the wall of your office. Across you sat Maisie, who happened to be an English lecturer. You were one of the lecturers, who had just finished your PHD in Media and Cultural Studies and when offered a job at the university, you couldn’t help yourself but stay. It was decent pay after all and after three years with the university, you realised your students loved you. There were wild lecturers in the school of arts department, who overshared and gladly you weren’t one of them but your students knew you well enough to seem relatable. However, you were hoping that today they would not quiz you on your hangover. Especially your seminar classes, they really loved hearing whatever you went through. Right now, you sat at the table, head against the desk of your office while Maisie watched you groan. “Oh my god.” Was all you could mumble. This was not how you wanted to spend your first week back of the second semester. Your head was pounding violently, you were nauseous, stomach turning. The only thing saving you was the cup of coffee you had in hand, after being forced to take an espresso shot, you were still practically dead. Maisie simply sat there shaking her head. God, she had no right to judge you after goading you into going out. “You should have known not to go hard on the drinks!” “But...free…” The words fell from your lips. “Javier gives free drinks all the time, I’m surprised it doesn’t get him fired. You should’ve known, he did this last time. Actually, that reminds me, where did you go last night?” And then you remembered. You went off with a mystery man, an incredibly handsome mystery man. That, you were fortunate enough to remember. With your head against the table, you smirked, so your friend wouldn’t see. “Don’t pretend as if we didn’t see you walking off and kissing that man, who by the way is a huge score! We spent all night fangirling about him.” Maisie said with excitement but all you could do was groan again, “Come on! You have to tell me! What happened?” “Nothing happened.” You mumbled into your arms. Okay something happened but you still didn’t want to say anything. “Don’t lie to me! You have to tell me, it was my birthday, meaning you have to tell me what YOU did on my day!”

You still refused to move. As your knight in shining armour, the Head of Faculty, Andrew stormed into the room, coffee mug and binder in hand. “Right! Who’s ready for a day full of learning ladies!” Maisie laughed as all you could let out was a groan. “Oh, not you too!” He let out an irritated huff. “This is ridiculous. Seems like there’s a lot of hangovers going around this morning.” “Really?” Maisie said, leaning forward with excitement. “Yeah, I just got off the phone with the guest lecturer. He is bloody hungover too. Could hear it in his voice.” Shit. Guest lecturer. One of the senior lecturers decided to go on a research leave mid-year, which didn’t help your cause as you were left with over one hundred students needing attention. That is when the head of faculty, Andrew, who you adored, decided to call in a guest lecturer, an industry expert in the field to provide you with support. Only thing is, Andrew was unpredictable, so you didn’t know who he had in store. You only knew he was a pretty popular journalist in Europe. Weren’t you supposed to be meeting him before the class? “He said he’s going to be running late.” Thank god for that. You didn’t need Andrew screaming at you about representing the university under a negative light. Before Andrew could get to scolding you, however, your alarm went off. Swiftly, you jumped up and swiped all your folders. “Class! Got to get to class!” Was all you could muster before leaving the room, and your colleagues, incredibly shocked.

Students filled the lecture hall for the first lesson of the semester, which didn’t surprise you. There were a lot of familiar faces as usual. A couple of new ones but most of the students knew when you were out of it and these were the ones present. Andrew followed you in, watching intently, hoping you wouldn’t screw this up. But everyone knew the rules. The moment your mug was placed against the desk, everyone was silent, eagerly listening to hear from you. “Morning everyone! Welcome back, I hope you have all had a wonderful Christmas break! Just know that for many of you who took my module last year, yes, I am currently in the process of grading your assignments and the results will be distributed next week. However, I am not here to talk about that. Right now, it is time to turn over a new page! So, for those of you that don’t know me, I am Dr. Y/N Y/LN. I am totally cool without the whole formal title and I am a lecturer in Media and Cultural studies and welcome to my module Introduction to Investigative Journalism. This is where we’ll be in touch with some of the world’s most notorious cases from the role investigative journalism played in the portrayal of criminals from the likes of Charles Ponzi, Pablo Escobar, Charles Bronson to female serial killers such as Velma Barfield and Judy Buenoano. We will be looking at cold cases such as the murder of Olof Palme to the story of D.B. Cooper and corruption amongst transnational and multinational companies such as the fall of Wennerstrom. I know this feels like a criminology course and having the stomach would be ideal, however this is incredibly interesting if you want to look into serious crimes and learn about political corruption. I mean I didn’t have the stomach at first but you learn to live with it.” The students laughed. Andrew was in awe of how professional you managed to be but then again that is why the university needed you. They knew you were the young voice they needed to liven things up and get students intrigued, no matter how hungover or ill you were. “ Now, as you know, Dr. Woodbridge has taken a research leave so today, I believe that Andrew has called in a guest lecturer who will be here throughout the second half of the module to provide support and as an industry expert will hopefully be able to answer the questions you all will have.”

Andrew stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear as he headed to the centre. He gave you a wink to praise the way you pulled yourself together and turned to the rest of the class. “Thank you very much, Y/N. Couldn’t have introduced the module better myself, you have me excited and I’m not even taking it! Anyway, without further ado, I am honoured to introduce to you all your guest lecturer today, he is an investigative journalist and co-owner of Swedish magazine, Millennium, Mikael Blomkvist!” The class gave an applause and so did you as the man walked through the door. Then your applause slowed...hang on a minute. Why did the name Mikael sound familiar? Mikael walked in with a smile, waving at the glass, sporting glasses and a warm cardigan, smiling but then he turned to you and then it hit you. This was YOUR mystery man!

[ipuckwithhockey]

Just Ask- N. Patrick

a/n: More Nolan stuff? Yup. I should preface this with the fact that we should all be considerate of all hockeys and their personal lives. They have lives that do not include us and we should respect that. This includes their online accounts whether they are private or public. I say that because this does slightly touch on Nolan’s music taste/interest in music, but there’s nothing specific. Also, lets remember that this is all fiction! We’re just here to have some fun. Anyway, this is a short one, nothing too crazy. Let me know what y’all think!

warnings: drinking, swearing

------

Meeting the Flyers was a byproduct of your friendship with Carly. The two of you have been friends for ages and she introduced you to the boys early into her relationship with Travis. You were able to avoid being the consistent third wheel by finding a comfortable place within Travis’ group of friends. Although Carly and Travis have insisted that they try to set you up with someone on the team, you continually refused, saying that it would be awkward if it didn’t work out. Not to mention the fact that you didn’t think any of the guys were interested.

The lovesick couple bothered you about it for ages, trying to push Beezer and Frosty on you, and then saying that you and Nolan would be “so cute” together. Joel and Morgan were great, you loved them both dearly, but there was no way you were dating either one of them. They were more compatible with each other than with you.

However, the last one you didn’t disagree with. You agreed, and thought that you and Nolan would make an exceptionally cute couple. It takes two to tango though, and Nolan definitely isn’t interested. Nolan has always been friendly and your personalities mesh well enough that you would consider him a good friend. The two of you even hang out by yourselves when TK and Carly cancel on you to do god knows what. You’ll grab food or watch a movie, but he has never made any inclination that he feels anything more than platonic towards you.

Nolan is shy, and dry, yet incredibly funny. He’s blunt and has a few sharp edges to him, but he’s not the fiery time bomb that TK resembles. He’s more reserved, laid back, and you can feel at ease with him because of it. You loved Travis to bits, and he was the perfect match for Carly’s outgoing personality, but you can only handle so much of him.

Take right now for example. You’re standing in the kitchen of a post-win house party, and Travis is incessantly nagging you to go talk to Nolan. The house you’re in is full to the brim with people you’re sure they don’t know and you and Travis are in the kitchen fixing yourselves another round of drinks. From where you’re standing you can see Nolan in the family room towering over a few doe eyed girls who hang on his every word. They are fixated on him, and you think that he could tell them to get on their knees right then and there and they would do it gladly. (You’re not sure you would say no either, so no judgement there.) 

You’ve seen him take girls home from parties and bars, and he’s seen you with your fair share of conquests as well. It doesn’t bother you, and you figure it doesn’t bother Nolan either. Would you mind being the girl he took home? No, not at all, but unfortunately that was a role you would probably never be cast in. Even if you were you wouldn’t want to be one of those other girls anyway. You wanted to be the girl. You wanted to be the girl who made him forget about all the girls before you.

Your silent pining was becoming a little sad, and as much as you hated it, you couldn’t do anything to change how you felt about him. When you first met Nolan, you figured your little crush would soon dissipate, but the opposite ended up occurring. Now you were the sad, lonely, pining girl. You hated being her, but you couldn’t help it. You were totally gone for him.

“Come on, he’s not even listening to whatever those girls are saying to him. And you know he’s been checking you out since you got here.” Travis lays it out simply for you but you’re quick to refute, “Trav, he’s only looking over here because you haven’t stopped staring at him all night. If any two people at this party are into each other it’s you and Nolan, not me and Nolan.”

“What are you guys getting so heated about over here? And why do you keep looking at Nolan like that, Trav?” Carly comes over to tuck herself into Travis’ side as he puts his arm around her. You make a face at Travis as to say, “I told you.”

“He won’t leave me alone about Nolan, thinks I should go over there and interrupt the fan club.” You motion in the direction of where Nolan is still standing in front of his little doe eyed fans.

Carly’s eyes light up, “Oh, he totally checked you out earlier! You should go over there. Scare all those little girls away. They never had a chance anyway,” she explains matter-of-factly.

“Carly! You’re supposed to me on my side, remember?” You look between your friend and her boyfriend, who’s grin is getting bigger and bigger as spreads across his face.

“Look, you can deny it for as long as you like, but he’s totally into you, and you’re totally into him. Travis and I both know it.” Carly and Travis look so satisfied with themselves, that they think they’ve played matchmaker between the two of you, but you’re still not convinced.

“Ok, give me 5 reasons you think he could possibly like me, or that we are somehow compatible, and then maybe I’ll go over there.” You motion back in Nolan’s direction.

Travis is quick to the pitch, “You’re both oddly quiet. Like it kind of freaks me out when I come into the room and it’s just the two of you sitting there on the couch, and you’re not even talking! Sometimes the TV isn’t even on. It’s just silent. Like who even does that?”

This elicits an eye roll from you as you remember the many times Travis has walked in on you and Nolan sitting in a quiet room together, neither of you feeling the need to constantly fill the air with pointless conversation. Travis has never understood it.

“What about how Nolan always gets you drinks when we’re out?” Carly chimes in.  “He doesn’t do that for everyone. Hell, I don’t think he’s ever asked me if I needed another when he’s headed up to the bar.”

You’ve never noticed that he doesn’t ask anyone else when he goes up to the bar. Thinking about it now, it does seem kind of odd. But the two of you will often find yourselves next to each other while you’re stuffed inside a packed bar on any given weekend, and you figure he’s just being nice since you’re usually one of the only single ones there.

“That’s only two, and your reasoning is horrible. He’s just being nice and being introverted is not a crime.” You lean back onto the counter behind you as you cross your arms in front of your chest.  Now you’re facing toward the open room where one of the girls has inched her way closer to Nolan.

“He’s been a lot more excited to go out lately. He always asks if you’re coming. The last time we all went out I gave him a hard time about it. I don’t think his face has ever been that red.” Travis explains. “That’s another one! Whenever you show up or you do that thing that girls do when they’re flirting, you know the one where they touch a guy’s arm when they’re talking, he gets so red. Like tomato red.” Travis isn’t very eloquent in delivery, but you understand what he’s saying. “That’s four, baby.” He reminds you.

“He gets red when anyone talks to him and whenever anyone is brave enough to touch him. And I do not do that flirting thing.”  You look to Carly for reassurance, “Do I?” you ask.  She doesn’t offer the reassurance you were looking for, instead stating, “Oh, you totally do that. Sorry, you’re just not that subtle.”

“Oh my god.” You let your head hang back as you look up to the ceiling, “He probably thinks I’m an idiot or just creepy.” You really didn’t think you were that obvious, but clearly you were wrong. He probably feels bad for you because he knows you’re totally into him. “Well, if that wasn’t enough to deter me from ever speaking to him again, that’s still only four, so I think I’m going to call it a night and head home and then never show my face near Nolan again.” You try to exit the kitchen with the last bit of dignity you have left but Travis is quick to jump in front of you.

“Nope. I have a fifth one.” He’s standing there with is hands on his hips and you’re sure he thinks it makes him look more commanding. You just roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time tonight.

“Really? You think it’s good enough to get me over there?” You quip back at him as you nod back towards Nolan.

“Oh yeah.” He nods back, “And if it makes you feel better Nolan is super obvious too. Like I said, tomato red.”

“So, are you going to tell me the fifth reason or are you just going to keep me hostage here all night?” Now you’re mimicking his stance with your hands placed firmly on your hips.

“It pains me to admit this one because he doesn’t even let me do this,” Travis sighs. “He lets you have the aux every time you’re in his car. No questions asked, he just lets you play whatever you want. Doesn’t even complain about it!”

You’re processing what Travis is saying. Nolan did always let you choose the music in the car, but you didn’t think anything of it. You probably grabbed the aux without hesitation the first time you hopped in his car. That’s just what you always did with your friends. It never dawned on you that he might not let other people do that too.

It checks out though, Nolan loves his music. It’s important to him, and his perfectly curated playlists are like little works of art for him. You’ve watched him manicure his playlists for hours as he sits on the couch, and admittedly you have similar taste in music. Maybe that’s why he didn’t care? Maybe you just always chose songs that he would have also picked? Although there was that one week where you made him listen to the Frozen soundtrack on repeat. He probably wouldn’t have picked that one…

You don’t have time to decide on why you think Nolan would ever let you get away with something he holds so sacred because he has since left his group of girls and has found his way into the kitchen where you’re still squared off with Travis.

“You guys gonna pull your pistols out soon?” Nolan mumbles an announcement that he has entered the room, and you realize that you’re still stood in front of TK, both of you with your hands on your hips.

“Nope, we were actually just heading out to play pong, we’ll see you guys later!” Travis quickly ushers himself and Carly out of the room, and before you can protest, you’re left alone with Nolan. He’s leaning against the counter opposite to you, and when you move your eyes to rest on his figure you can’t help but do a quick intake of just how good he looks. He’s wearing the same basic outfit that just about every other guy in the house is sporting, and yet it looks so much better on him.

“What was that about? You guys okay?” Nolan asks.

“Uh- Yeah, Trav just being Trav, you know?” You attempt to brush off the topic of what you and Travis were discussing prior to Nolan’s arrival. Similar to those times that Travis was referencing, neither of you feel compelled to fill the air with unneeded dialogue, and you fall into a comfortable silence. Neither of you are saying anything now and Nolan takes the time to twist off the cap to another beer from the fridge.

“I was gonna go out back. It’s too hot in here, wanna come?” Nolan nods his head to the sliding glass door at the other end of the kitchen, and you respond by following him out to the deck. The quietness and crisp winter air that fills your lungs is refreshing. The two of you lean against the railing of the deck and enjoy the break from the chaos inside. You continue in your silence and you can’t help but watch as Nolan takes long drags of his beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask, and without speaking he nods, giving you the go ahead.

“Why don’t you let Travis have the aux?”

Nolan chuckles a bit, “Of all the things you could ask, that’s what you choose?” he retorts before answering, “If you must know, he has horrible taste in music. But also, I don’t let anyone have the aux. My car, my music. It’s the rules,” he states, taking another quick swig of his beer that’s almost empty now.

He confirmed what Travis had said to you, but you’re not convinced. There had to be a catch. He probably never realized that you did it. You’re sure of it.

“But you let me have the aux?” You form the sentence with a question mark on the end, and your eyes follow Nolan as he leans over the railing to look out into the backyard. He’s avoiding meeting your eye, and you can tell he’s thinking, deciding on what he’s about to say.

“Probably ‘cus I can’t say no to you,” the muttered words come out under his breath, like he doesn’t want you to hear it.

“What? What does that mean?” He lets out a huff of air as his hands push is his long hair back out of his face, something he only does when he’s stressed.

His body turns to face you now, “You could literally tell me to jump off a bridge or run through this house naked, and I would probably do it. No questions asked.”

The quizzical look that occupies your face prompts him to continue. He’s frustrated, you can tell, “I just don’t know how to say this without fucking us up as friends…” He starts to pivot away from you again, but you reach out for his arm, stopping him from leaving, “What if I don’t want to be friends?” You’ve chosen to be the bold one now, and if it bit you the ass you were just going to have to live with that, but you can’t help but feel like you’ve both been on the same page all along.

“You don’t want to be friends with me?” Hurt. Confusion. Annoyance. They all flash across Nolan’s face before you can interject again, “I don’t want to be just friends with you. I want to be more than that. I want to be the girl you take home when this party is over, and the girl who gets to wake up next to you every morning after, and even if you don’t want that, you need to know that’s how I feel about yo—“

He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’tt pull you into a heart wrenching kiss, there aren’t fireworks playing behind you. To your surprise, Nolan has chosen to haul you over his shoulder, your arms falling over his back as he walks swiftly back into the house.

“NOLAN! What the fuck!? Put me down!” You yell at him as he continues to carry through the house. The party is so wild by now that you’re sure no one even notices the 6’2 hockey player with a girl over his shoulder.

“Nolan! Seriously. Put me down!” You’re feel like a little toddler who has gotten herself in trouble, and when Nolan finally does place your feet back on the ground, you’re outside next to his car that is parked in front of the house. He sets you down, and you’re slightly dizzy from being swung around like a rag doll, but he steadies you in front of him with his hands on your waist.

“What the fuck was tha—”

He cuts you off again, but this time he isn’t hauling your body into the air. This time his hands are on either side of your face and his lips find yours and there are even metaphorical fireworks going off as you kiss him back. You stand there, pushed against the side of his car, with his hands tangled in your hair, and your tongues exploring each other mouths. When you finally come up for air he pushes back away from you so that he can meet your eye.

“If you wanted to be that girl all you had to do was ask.” A smirk is plastered across his face, and you lightly shove at his chest even though it does little to move his large figure.

You surrender, “Okay, but we have to get an Uber, we’ve both had too much to drive.” You can’t help but grin back at him as he reaches for his phone to order a car for the both of you. When the car arrives, you get in to head back to Nolan’s apartment with your hands wrapped together. “I can’t believe Travis was right,” you say as you let your head rest on Nolan’s shoulder and he turns his head to you with his eyebrow furrowed, “Right about what?”