#i did NOT know what to do with the colours

[flowerandblood]

Hi, for the ask game you’re making

Glass cuts deepest

🖼️ Museum

🍁 Autumn

💐 Care

🎃 Jealousy

😬 Semi-public sex

🍓 Sexual tension

Congratulations on the milestone 😊!

The Art of Body

[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]

[ prompts: museum, autumn, jealousy, care, sexual tension, semi-public sex ]

[ warnings: unprotected sex, smut, mention of sexual trauma ]

A short written as a celebration of my 4000 followers milestone as part of this ask game, which is part of Glass Cuts Deepest story.

Rino Stefano Tagliafierro is the animation artist of François Boucher's "Leda and the Swan" 1740 [post by eucanthos]

______

"Are you sure? I don't want to force you to do anything. It's the middle of the school year, I'm sure there'll be a lot of people there." Wright muttered, looking at him with uncertainty.

He felt frustration, knowing what she meant by people.

Women.

The truth was that since they had been engaged, he had gradually but successfully managed to simply pretend that he didn't see them. When they were in a restaurant or on a walk he would focus only on her and on talking to her, often holding her hand – it made him feel safer, like when you are looking down a great precipice while holding on to the railing.

He was very proud of himself when one day they went to the cinema together to see an animation they both really wanted to watch – it turned out that there were women sitting on either side of their seats. Wright wanted to back out and just leave, recognising that they didn't need to see the film at all, but he was tired of running away all the time.

When they sat down, he shifted in his seat as close to Wright as possible, not wanting the person sitting next to him to touch him – his fiancée had been leaning over his ear throughout the screening, asking if everything was okay, and he only nodded.

He couldn't remember much of what he saw – he was unable to focus as he felt only the rapid pounding of his heart and the cold sweat on his back.

When they left the cinema, he felt relieved, but also proud, because he had done it – even though he felt sick a few times and wanted to vomit, he had endured and nothing had happened.

He felt that he was slowly ready to just go out to people and not wonder who he was passing on the way.

"I want to go there. It's the biggest museum in our country. We've been talking about it for a long time." He said, putting his black turtleneck over his head and sighed, seeing that he had ruined his elaborately styled hairdo by doing so.

Wright noticed this and involuntarily reached into his hair, trying to comb it properly again with her fingers.

He swallowed hard, simultaneously frightened and pleased that she had touched him so suddenly – he repeated to himself at times like this that he trusted her, her familiar scent and the warmth of her skin affecting him in a calming way.

"If you say so. Maybe you're right. I've wanted to see this place for a long time too." She admitted finally, and he smiled with satisfaction, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Give me a moment. I need to change." She said, opening his wardrobe, looking in it probably for one of her dresses.

Some part of him wanted her to change in front of him – she never did. On the other hand, he dreaded it – he had never seen her naked – not completely.

He had never seen her bare breasts or buttocks, only felt them beneath his hands when he put his hand under her shirt.

He swallowed hard as she threw him a warm smile and locked herself in the bathroom, feeling both relieved and disappointed.

He waited patiently for her, and when he heard her come out, he froze – her floral dress was fastened from the front with large white buttons, a fluffy, light-coloured jumper over her shoulders. She had said something to him, probably that she was ready, but all he could think about was that she hadn't put her bra on.

He could easily see the shape of her nipples under the material and something about the sight frustrated him.

Why should others look at something that even he couldn't see?

He wanted to say it, but before he opened his mouth he thought it was unfair – he himself wouldn't want her to dictate what he could and couldn't wear, and he thought his remark might be rude.

"Let's go." He said finally.

It took them a couple of hours to get there – during this time Wright had bought them tickets for all the exhibitions online, so they wouldn't have to wait in long queues at the box office. He liked how organised she was – the fact that she always helped him and didn't leave everything on his head.

He felt he could rely on her.

When they got out of the car, they ran ahead, holding hands – an intense autumn rain had broken up all around them, which meant that by the time they reached the main entrance, they were all wet.

The security guard scanned their tickets and pointed the way they should follow – after a while, their eyes were met by spacious, bright, richly lit halls with walls filled with paintings by great artists, with sculptures of wood, bronze and marble all around them.

His fiancée approached one of the medieval statues depicting the Beautiful Madonna and Child, the one they both knew well from their art history textbooks.

"Look! It's even more beautiful than in the pictures." She said cheerfully, quickly grabbing her phone, taking pictures of the sculpture.

He, however, stared at her dully, seeing the wet material of her dress clinging to her skin, her nipples clearly outlined, popping from the cold.

He felt both irritation and desire at the sight, his manhood pulsed softly in his trousers, expressing his desire to touch her.

He grunted and turned his head away, walking over to one of the baroque paintings hanging on the wall, trying not to think about it.

I'm sexualising her too much, he rebuked himself in his mind, feeling a kind of shame by doing what he himself would never want to experience again in his life.

He regained his good humour and walked with her through the long corridors filled with art, stopping constantly at some artefact – they talked about everything, delighting in the workmanship and details together, while criticising what they didn't like.

He felt an unpleasant twinge in his stomach again when, standing at one of the sculptures, he saw that the man standing opposite them was looking straight at Wright's breasts – he would have thought he was being oversensitive again if it hadn't been for the slight smile of satisfaction on the man's lips, which told him that he was pleased with how much was visible through the thin material of her dress.

He didn't know why, but he grabbed her wrist and tugged at it, pulling her the other way, frustrated and enraged.

"What happened? Did someone touch you?" She mumbled, following him obediently, thinking it was all about him, as usual.

He stopped and looked at her, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

"Did you have to dress like that? Everyone's looking at you." He hissed, but immediately regretted his words – Wright blinked and shook her head, horror and discomfort in her eyes, as if what he had said had caused her pain.

"What do you mean? I don't understand. After all, my dress doesn't even reveal my cleavage." She said resentfully, looking down, only after a moment noticing what he and everyone else had seen.

She looked at him again and pressed her lips together, covering her breasts with her jumper and her hands, as if the sight of them was something disgusting, worthy of condemnation.

He felt a sting in his heart at the sight – at the thought that she felt it was her fault that other men were looking where they shouldn't.

He swallowed hard and grabbed her hands, lowering them down, making her involuntarily reveal again what she had tried to cover up only moments before.

"– forgive me – I shouldn't have said that – it's just – fuck – I just I have a hard time with the idea that someone else might be... looking at something that even I couldn't see –"

"After all, you can look at it." She whispered, speaking so that no one could hear her. "Even now, if you want to."

"Now?" He muttered, surprised by her words.

What did she mean?

"We can go to the toilet and lock ourselves in the cabin. Our first time was like that too. You did it because the area around you didn't remind you of the place where you faced something bad. About the bed." She reminded him, and he swallowed loudly, realising it was true.

He looked down once more, at the thing he wanted so badly, and nodded slowly.

"Okay."

He felt like a little boy, unable to look at her in shame when the toilet door closed behind them. Once they made sure they were alone, they hid in one of the cabins and just looked at each other for a while.

He felt his heart thump harder in his chest as her hands slowly rose to the buttons of her dress – he watched in disbelief as she began to undo it one by one, his erection twitching and swelling in his trousers, aching with desire at the sight of her bare skin.

When she reached the height of her belly, she stopped and her hands dropped – her dress was unbuttoned, but revealed only a small line of her naked skin – he could see that she was breathing heavily as was he, panting with excitement.

Involuntarily, he took one slow step towards her, then another – his large hand rose uncertainly to the height of her chest and pushed the material of her dress aside in a gentle, lazy motion. He sighed deeply, immediately covering what he saw with his fingers, feeling himself breathe through his mouth out of lust – he looked into her eyes as her hand closed over his, encouraging him to sink deeper into the structure of her plump, soft bosom.

He leaned in and kissed her, unable to withstand the tension he felt inside – his lower abdomen was filled with a wonderfully familiar, warm, tickling sensation that made his length completely hard. He pressed his hips against her abdomen, rolling them back and forth, trying to somehow soothe the need for closeness and tenderness that only she could give him.

"– feels good? –" She breathed out into his mouth, letting their lips caress again and again with the sticky clicks of their saliva, the skin of her breasts wonderfully warm and swollen, melting beneath his fingers.

"– pull down your panties –" He instructed, and she moaned softly into his mouth, immediately obeying his command.

He let her go for a moment, dealing with his trousers, only to release his heavy, painfully swollen erection – as soon as her underwear landed on the ground, he grabbed her in his arms and lifted her, so that her breasts were at the level of his face.

They both cried out as at the same time his lips closed over her hard nipple and the head of his cock opened her wide – he gasped in pleasure, feeling how warm and moist she was, but not seeing anything that was happening from her waist down, covered by the material of her dress.

"– ah –" She mewled as his arms embraced her in a confident hug and pressed her body against the cold tiles, trying to keep her balance as he sank all the way into her body with one, sure thrust of his hips.

"– be quiet or I'll stop –" He threatened and they both froze when they heard someone enter – his cock pulsed inside her greedily as he simply continued with her in that position.

He felt her hands tighten in his hair, her hot pussy squeezed his manhood hard as his tongue swirled around her little nipple, teasing and sucking on it alternately.

He grunted quietly as he felt her begin to roll her hips – some part of him wanted to stop her, hearing that someone was still inside, however the other, more animalistic part of him just wanted to pound into her – and that's what he did.

He heard her squeal softly and she immediately pressed her face against his hair, trying to deafen the sound, as their naked bodies began to slam against each other with loud, sticky smacks of her moisture. He was no longer interested in whether or not the person inside knew what had just taken place – all he could focus on was their heavy, ragged breaths, the wonderful, growing tension in his loins, the squeeze in his testicles testifying that he was close.

He couldn't contain the low growl of delight that passed in vibration across her breast, couldn't contain how desperate he was, couldn't contain what euphoria possessed him at the thought of looking, smelling, touching her naked body, experiencing nothing but bliss.

"– Aemond –" She mumbled softly into his ear, so that only he was able to hear it – her small fingers clenched on his body allowing her to keep her balance and take what he was giving her, as shocked by what they were doing as he was.

All he could think about was how warm and wet she was, how easily she welcomed him deep inside her, how much she wanted him even though they had been together for so long.

The level of trust he held in her made him able to focus only on pleasure, and after a few messy, loud slaps he came inside her with a gasp of relief.

Her nails digging into his shoulders and hair made it almost painful when he felt her body shake with an aggressive, intense orgasm, causing her to stifle a moan with difficulty, making a quiet, whimpering sound.

"– shhh – shhh, little one –" He whispered, still deep inside her, feeling his manhood and her fleshy walls pulsing in one united rhythm, snuggled into her soft, warm chest.

The touch of her bare skin, her heart beating beneath his cheek was so wonderfully intimate, personal, sweet.

Why hadn't he done this before?

They were both relieved when they heard the sound of the water being drained in the other cabin, then the door opening and someone's footsteps indicating that they were alone.

"– Aemond – my legs are aching –" She mumbled, still crossing her calves on his back, supported only by his hands that held her buttocks.

"– just a little longer –" He muttered, pressing his face harder into the silky structure of her plump breasts.

Just a little longer.

[fushiguruuzzzz]

vii ⊹ ࣪ ˖ Knee Socks 

Series mlist 

Tags — mentions of violence, I couldn’t be bothered to size down the text

Words— 1.2k

Megumi wasn’t watching you. Of course he wasn’t, he wasn’t some sort of creep. Why would he feel a need to watch you anyway? It wasn’t like you were special. No, he didn’t care what you were doing, he barely even knew you so of course he wouldn’t- 

He sighed. His inner monologue was beginning to resemble that of Itadori, it was unlike him. No, he hadn’t been watching you, but he couldn’t deny that when he peered through the open window of his dorm room, he hoped to see you outside. When he caught a glimpse of your [h/c] hair roaming the expanse of the cobblestone that stretched around the residence hall, an odd sort of satisfaction shot through his chest. He’d been meaning to return that bag, anyway. Not that he wanted to speak to you properly or anything. 

He put a hoodie on, the polyester blanketing him and shelling him from the dull chill of the approaching winter. Snow had yet to fall, but the orange of the leaves was beginning to diminish, everything turning into darker, less saturated pallet of colours. He much preferred it this way, he blended in more. The black of his sweater did nothing to stick out against the masses. The soft echo of his footsteps as he descended down the stairs was the only sound ringing through his ears, aside from the soft murmur of surrounding conversations. 

You were simply taking a stroll, headphones resting over your ears as you wandered the paths and walkways of the campus you’d learned to call home. It had only been a few short weeks since you first stepped foot here, but you seemed more in place here than you ever did, even at home. The gentle thump of shoes against ground grew closer and closer, a wave of something akin to what you felt at that Halloween party washing over you. 

A figure fell into step by your side, the midnight blue of his eyes meeting your own. His arm was outstretched, and it took you a moment to look down and see the cherry red grasped in his fingers. Of course, it was your bag! The bag you’d left in his car after chugging enough alcohol with Yuji to kill a grown cow… that was rather embarrassing. You felt your face heat up, a bashful smile tugging at your lips as you let your headphones fall around your neck, and gently took the bag from him. 

“Oh, I almost forgot about that. Thanks,” you said, your hand falling to your side with the bag within it. You could feel your shoulders stiffen, your heartbeat quickening as the realization that this was only your second meeting in half a decade dawned on you. You could barely hold his gaze, not that he was doing much better. A hint of a smile ghosted over his lips, but it was gone in an instant. 

“I figured,” he responded. It didn’t seem as though he’d changed much. There was still a sort of low gravel to his voice, something distant and gruff, but it was more… docile. There was something oddly soft about the way he spoke that felt almost intimate, reserved for those that held a specific importance in his soul. Truly, he was hardly aware of it. Sure, he kept his tone in check. He wanted to be sure that you knew he wasn’t still some sort of delinquent, someone to not be trusted, to not be kept around. He made that mistake once before, he didn’t intend on letting it happen again. 

A tense sort of silence settled over the two of you. You didn’t exactly know what to say, what does one say in this situation? It would be one thing if you’d departed like many friends did, forgetting to exchange numbers or simply falling out of touch. But no. You, the only person he even bothered to trust, socked him in the face with a punch worthy of live TV. 

“It was… odd. Seeing you again,” he broke the silence, daring to sneak a glance at you from the corner of his eye. It wasn’t spoken with disdain or disgust, simply a fact being stated. You nodded, a soft breath of laughter tumbling from your mouth. “It was. You sort of caught me off guard.” 

He eyed you, quirking a brow. “I caught you off guard? You do realize you were standing with my friends, right?” he said. Though he suddenly realized his tone, his voice growing softer as he continued speaking. Of course he didn’t do it too much, though, it’s still Megumi you were speaking to. You chuckled softly once again, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Not fair! Yuji invited me over, it’s not like I infiltrated your friend group on purpose,” you rolled your eyes, a smirk playing at your lips. He mirrored you, too rolling his eyes. Still sassy. Great. 

“I was a little scared, honestly,” you continued, your cheeks tinting a gentle pink. You hoped he’d excuse it, assume it was the cold weather to blame. His eyebrows twitched upwards, question written all over his face. Then it morphed, understanding and a hint of amusement written all over his face. 

“You did make me bleed.”

Your head whipped to the side, arms crossing over your chest. “In my defence, you beat up the guy I was going out with.” He shrugged. He didn’t want you to assume he continued the bad habit of resorting to violence, but he couldn’t act as if it wasn’t justified. “He deserved it,” he said. 

This wasn’t a story you’d heard before. He deserved it? Well, maybe you��d have found out, had the circumstances been different. “How so?” you asked, and it was as if the memory (or lack of) rushed back to him. “That guy was an ass. You didn’t know that he and his friends had a bet on how fast he could get you to… uh, be at his mercy is one way to put it,” he grumbled. 

What. 

You suddenly felt rather stupid. Of course that wasn’t in relation to the boy, a middle school crush, if you could even call him that. It was about Megumi, the way you acted on impulse as a stupid teen when you were oblivious to the fact he had been protecting you. You internally winced, “Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh,” he mimicked, shaking his head softly. “Anyway, I’m not like that anymore, so you don’t have to worry,” he shrugged, glancing to the side. 

You nodded. Yuji had already said so, but hearing it come from him was oddly reassuring. “I assumed so, both considering you have friends and aren’t behind bars by now,” you smirked, growing less anxious as every moment passed. Things weren’t so tense with him, they never seemed to be. He shot a glare at you, though no real heat lied within his eyes. 

“Don’t look at me like that. Remember when you hung Chomei and Okumura from a billboard?” He stayed silent, almost shrinking in on himself as you brought up the memory. He shot you another look, though, a gentle push to shut up. 

“Or when you piled up half of our grade and used them like stepstools? Or when you-“ 

“Alright alright that’s enough I get it.” 

Taglist !¡ —

@meowymeowbreow @1l-ynn @missunrise @kiss-my-asscheeks @starrysho @good-mourning0 @gumims @beaniesayshi @mrowwww @luvvmae @megumislovedoll @qingpunk @azharyy @starsryi @tibibibi123

the billboard incident being canon is so funny to me

guys please check ur settings and make sure im able to tag you before asking to be on the taglist :(

group collab when

missing school for the second time this week yikes

ty for the love on the most recent chap :3 but also why do some chapters have 90 likes and the other is barely getting 30????? Are we only reading the fifth chapter guys be honest.

watching Saiki k and Mha rn…. Chat I’m expanding…

[ratatatastic]

the sauna robe era: a beautiful saga unfolding before us. we really have gone from "it was matthew's idea to wear them for pregame fits" to "sasha texted them team to make them wear the robes for the preds game"

nashville predators @ florida panthers postgame interview | 11.7.24 (x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

DO YOU KNOW HOW FUNNY IT IS THAT BOTH RODDY AND MAFFHEW WENT oh the whole team all thought it was a prank but we still wore them anyways which somehow makes the robe walkin an exercise in trust and love that everyone passed with flying colours god this team is filled with lobe and friemdship

also happy mackie did in fact get ribbed for taking the shirt option his team uncles sure are giving him the rookie experience and also "i wasn't sure if i was showing too much skin or not" on a team

THAT WALKED IN LIKE THIS WITHOUT ANY SHAME. YEAH BUD I DONT THINK THATS A PROBLEM HERE.

the robes are truly a hit amongst the team aka we dont have to use our brains and we just put on a robe its fantastic, mackie maffhew and nosey are on absolutely onboard unsurprisingly

and if you wondering oh what about paul when will we see him-

the answer is a firm NO on both accounts so to those (me) who wanted to see an old man in a skimpy robe our dreams have to be crushed from the getgo but maybe if the streak goes long enough-

[inmyheaddd]

walkin’ out the door with your bags - part 4

⤷ “but what’s the rush? kissing, then my cheeks are so flushed.”

summary: grayson drives you home, and you can tell he isn’t feeling the best, so you insist the perfect remedy - on hosting an impromptu movie night while your roommate gigi is at her new boyfriends house! a/n: this takes place immediately after end of part 3!! and if you’re in the mood to see more of these idiots kissing and giggling, see this post!! warnings: little tiny sad grayson flashback, kissing, (friends to lovers is finally friends to lovering) wc: 4k masterlist || part one || part two || part three

…previously on part three

“ finally, after an intense game of eenie meenie miney mo —suggested by gigi, noah payed. 

grayson reluctantly put his card back in his wallet, tucking it back in his pocket as noah flashed gigi a nervous smile. 

when they caught eachother’s eyes, grayson offered noah a slight nod, almost of respect. noah returned it with a smile.

you and gigi once again glanced at eachother. in both your eyes, that seemed like a success.”

—

grayson was driving you home, the roads were bustling and crowded, and the ride was taking much longer than anticipated. 

you weren’t staring— staring was a big stretch. you think taking notice, observing, perceiving, even, were all better words to describe what you were doing. 

you were simply taking note of grayson’s features. 

the way his jaw slightly clenched when someone’s bad driving annoyed him, the way his hands grip would momentarily tighten on the wheel, the way the soft dim lighting of the night interrupted by headlights passing and traffic lights coloured his face— not staring. 

flashback - 12 years old…

maybe standing outside the huge hawthorne house with no plan at all wasn’t the best choice. your parents weren’t home, the house was empty, and you were bored out of your mind, and it was only 1pm!

so, 12 year old you did what sounded like the most fun: called grayson. annoying him was maybe your favorite past time.

you went straight in, not even waiting for him to say anything when he answered. 

“hey grayson, do you wanna go hang out?”

the other end was silent for a moment. “excuse me?”

“you know, hang out?” you laughed like he’d been talking nonsense, “like, when two friends go somewhere and—“

“i know what hanging out means.” he cut you off, and you could hear the annoyance in his tone. he didn’t speak for a second, “… i suppose my schedule is free today.” 

that was his way of saying yes. you rolled your eyes jokingly even though he couldn’t see you, what kind of 12 year old has a schedule?

“okay, i’m outside.”

“what?” he breathed out, sounding more shocked than ever. “sorry,” he corrected himself, and if your ears weren’t deceiving you, he almost sounded amused. 

“what if i had said no?” he added.

you laughed softly into your phone, “well, i just knew you wouldn’t.” you said, “now hurry up, it’s freezing out here.”

you stood outside in the brisk air, and grayson came down no less than a minute later, opening the door and being met with your cold-air-flushed face. 

you beamed, “grayson! hi!” it was muscle memory for you to hug your any of friends whenever you saw them — but you quickly stopped yourself, retracting your hands back to your sides awkwardly.

he raised a single eyebrow at you, “i spoke with you less than a minutes ago.” he deadpanned. “why are you so happy to see me?” 

if it was anyone else, you would’ve felt severely judged. you suppose that was his intent, though, so you didn’t let it affect you.

“i’m not happy to see you, i’m just happy. stop trying to dull my spark, hawthorne.” you rolled your eyes as you both began to walk, the cold december air hitting you. “let me live.”

he muttered something under his breath about an “annoying glare, not a spark.”before handing you something. “take this.”

you looked down at what he was handing you, “what?” you said quietly. 

you hadn’t even noticed before, but he had brought a sweater with him. 

“you mentioned you were cold earlier,” he stated matter-of-factly. “please, take it.” 

“oh,” you said, sounding too surprised at the casual action for your own liking. 

“thanks,” warmth instantly spread over you as you put it on, and when you noticed some sort of rock band logo on it with lots of writing. 

you furrowed your brows, did grayson have a complete closet change overnight?

“it’s not mine.” he said, eyes flickering back up to yours like he could read your thoughts. “it belongs to one of my brothers.”

“you wouldn’t want to spoil one of your precious hoodies on me?” you remarked sarcastically.

“i don’t own any hoodies.” 

oh. 

“wait,” you stopped in your tracks when you let that sink in, “not even a single one?” 

he just blinked at you, “no.” 

“why?” 

“it’s not my preferred style.” he said like it was clear. i mean, of course grayson hawthorne of all people wouldn’t own a hoodie; it was kind of clear.

“okay well, our next stop is obvious,” you said, and graysons brows knit. “the mall! we need to get you some hoodies.”

based on the look on his face, you don’t think he liked that idea…

but he went anyway. 

present…

you stopped infront of the red light, the colour sending a reddish hue over everything in the car.

grayson’s side profile was on full view, eyes not leaving the road as he broke the comfortable silence, “i may have misjudged his character.” 

“hm?” you hummed, snapped out of the trance-like state you were in, as you looked more intently, trying to decipher at the emotion behind his eyes.

“noah.” he made himself clear, “i presumed him to be…” he trailed off, thumb running up and down the wheel methodically, “different. worse.” 

you chuckled, “me and gigi both told you he was a good person,” you pointed out, “what, you think our taste is that bad?” 

is lips turned up for a flash of a second, “no,” he said as he shook his head slightly, “that’s not what i meant to imply.” 

“oh?” you said, leaning your head back against the head rest as your eyes stayed fixed on grayson’s face. “what was your intended affect then, hawthorne?” 

his head turned, his eyes narrowing jokingly as they finally met yours for a moment, before going back on the road. there was almost a full smile on his face. 

he redirected the conversation as he steered the wheel, “he seems like a nice fit for gigi.”

“aw,” you fake cooed, bringing a heartfelt hand to your chest. “you really think so?”

in all seriousness, though. the date had actually been much better than you had anticipated. gigi’s smile didn’t leave her face once. 

you saw him side glance at you, “yes, i do.” he said, “that, however, does not mean i’m agreeing to one of these ‘double dates’ ever again.” he quickly reiterated, like he could read your next thought. 

the way he said double dates made it seem like the last 2 hours were living hell for him.

you rolled your eyes and laughed under your breath, “don’t lie. i know the word fun isn’t in your dictionary, but i know you enjoyed yourself.”

“enjoy is a very large stretch.” he deadpanned, glancing at you momentarily.

“you had the best time ever. be honest.” 

“it was bearable.” 

“okay, sure. whatever you say,” you rolled your eyes jokingly, you said, just before started you noticed the familiar turns, and before you knew it, the the car was parked infront your house. you could see the stars twinkling in the night sky through the dashboard window— stargazing was one of your favorite activities.

flashback - 12 years old…

after a semi-successful shopping trip — grayson bought 3 hoodies, a black, grey, and navy one (gosh, the variety!) — you came across one of your favorite ice cream spots as you walked back together. it was nearing 3pm now and there was, by some miracle, no one around.

the 50s theme of the this cream store always brought you a sense of comfort, even with its bright overhead lights. you smiled as you and grayson walked in and the bell on the door rang upon your entrance.

the conversation was dulling down, mostly consisting of you making dumb jokes or making fun of him, and him maybe cracking a tiny smile once every 45 minutes, if you were lucky. 

you had a cup of cookies and cream ice cream in front of you, half eaten as you took your eyes to the photo booth placed in the corner of the store. 

there were hundreds of photos stuck on the sides of it— so many faces, so many smiles, friends, families, couples. 

you didn’t know any of their stories, but simply seeing them smile made you want to smile. 

then, you took your eyes to the boy sitting in the chair in front of you: grayson. 

he was sipping on his black coffee —that you relentlessly made fun of him for picking— but, the weird thing was that he was just… staring at you. 

“what are you looking at?” you snorted, putting your spoon down in your ice cream and leaning back in the booth seat. 

he shook his head slightly, “nothing.” 

it wasn’t nothing, because then after a second, he spoke again. he put his cup down, “why’d you take us here? it’s essentially empty, and it’s the middle of winter.”

your cheeks flushed— only because of the cold air hitting you. 

you shrugged with a sheepish smile, “i don’t know…” you trailed off, but you did know. “i kind of remembered you saying you haven’t tried ice cream, and i remember thinking in that moment, “i need to get this kid to have some ice cream.” then i saw this place, and thought, why not?”

he was silent for a moment, and a thousand thoughts overflowed in your mind. 

“i said that 3 years ago.” he finally said, sounding surprised, and it was like you could see his guarded mask slowly slipping away. 

“yeah,” you said, “i know.” 

his eyes flickered between yours, and then he did one of his barely there smiles that made you want to squeal — how come he got to make you feel like that? it wasn’t fair.

“if it’s any relief to you,” he said half jokingly, “i went home that night and asked my older brother to get me ice cream.” he spoke with softness in his voice; you noticed it was always that way when he spoke about his siblings. “it wasn’t as bad as i had anticipated.” 

you smiled softly at the emotion in his voice, “yeah, well, you’re literally drinking a specially made black coffee in an ice cream shop right now,” you stated. “so… my mission has failed, sort of.” 

he narrowed his grey eyes slightly like he was in deep thought, before briefly glancing at the counter. a server sat behind it, bored and staring his phone.

he looked back at you and then stood up, heading towards the ice cream counter.

you gasped in mock amazement. truthfully though, you were actually pretty shocked. “grayson hawthorne, actually living his life a little? i can’t believe i’m witnessing this in real time. this is extraordinary.” you got up and stood beside him, looking at the ice cream flavors in front. 

he offered you a side glance. “the possibility of me leaving is still very high.”

“oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes, “the possibility of me slapping you is very high.” oh, good comeback…

he seemed surprised at that, “oh, is that so?”

your cheeks flushed, but you stayed stubborn. “yes.” you didn’t look at him, but you could basically feel that stupid half smile of his. “now pick your ice cream already.”

he picked mint chocolate chip.

as you sat back down at your tables, you went right back to teasing him. “is this you attempting to be a little different, trying something new?” you asked teasingly as you sat down, with an oreo milkshake infront of you now. “i’m surprised you didn’t pick vanilla.”

he gave you that single eyebrow arch again. “why would that be?”

“because vanillas just… vanilla. and you’re so… you.”

his brows furrowed ever so slightly, and you could tell he was trying to keep his face completely unreactive. your heart suddenly felt 50 pounds heavier in your chest. 

the next time he spoke, he hesitated. his expression actually looked like he was his age for once, not way beyond his years. 

you always wondered if that was what other people forced him to be, or if it who he really was.

or, did they start to merge into the same thing at some point? that thought made your stomach feel cold. 

“so you really think i’m,” he paused slightly as he found the words, “… boring?” 

no, not actually, you wanted to say. 

he was that one mystery you decided you wanted to uncover since the day you met him. he was funny when he wanted to be, and despite everything, he actually cared for what you had to say. 

that was why you were here right now.

“oh yeah, for sure.” you grinned, nodding vigorously as grayson’s expression changed to one that looked less sad. “you’re about as interesting as a blank piece of paper.” 

grayson seemed to have gotten the answer he was looking for. his smile slowly matched yours, “so i’ve been told.” 

his eyes twinkled a little, you raised your eyebrows in a way to say, “shocker,” as you sipped from your straw, and then he laughed.  

you joined in, your combined soft laughs being the only sound in the ice cream shop apart from the soft 50’s music, before his phone began to ring and interrupted the moment. 

“sorry,” he said quietly, a hint of a smile still in his voice. “if you’ll excuse me.” he pressed the phone to his ear and answered promptly with, “grayson.” 

you heard a loud voice from the other line, and it all you could roughly understand was:

“GRAYSON! why do you answer like that?we’ve missed you! …. xander… movie night… pillow fight … broke his arm…. where are you?”

whoever was on the other line said that and more all in the span of 30 seconds, and didn’t stop once.

grayson listened to every word intently, and his little expressions of frustration, shock, and sheer annoyance as he looked at a spot on the table, almost made you burst out laughing as you stared.

in hindsight, you probably should’ve kept yourself busy, make it any less obvious you were eavesdropping, but you couldn’t help but stare at him. 

one thing was clear, though, and it made your heart feel fuzzy: he cared very deeply for whoever was on the other line, even if he didn’t show it. 

“listen, jameson. i’m currently out, however—“

“you’re out? doing what?” you heard a laugh from the other person—his brother, jameson, —and grayson rolled his eyes. 

“nothing that concerns you.”

you couldn’t stop the snort that followed at the sight of grayson so frustrated, and his eyes immediately flickered to yours. 

“sorry,” you mouthed. 

but to your surprise, grayson wasn’t glaring at you. if anything, he was holding your gaze with a glint of humour in his eyes, and he smiled at you as he held the phone to his ear. 

you heard shuffling on the other end, and then shouts. 

“xander! go call grayson on your own phone, and stop trying to steal mine!” 

“but he blocked me after i kept yodeling in his voicemail! i need to—“ 

grayson ended the phone call just as promptly as he’d answered it. 

he sighed, rubbing his temples, then you saw him power off his phone. he took a bite of his ice cream and then met your eyes. it looked like he almost paused when he did, maybe because you had been doing nothing but stare at him for the past few minutes. you’d probably be a little weirded out too. 

“your brothers seem funny,” you commented, taking another sip of your milkshake. 

he shook his head slightly, “i believe chaotic or headache inducing would be more fitting,” he put his spoon back down, “but, i suppose funny works.” 

you laughed, “yeah, but you still love them.” you told him with your voice a little quiet, “more than anything, right?” 

he nodded, “of course i do. they’re…” he trailed off trying to find the right way to put it, but there was just no better way to put it.

“they’re my family.”

present…

grayson cut the engine and got out of his side of the door, and walked around to yours to open it for you. it was a a small gesture, but it was one that made you pause slightly.

“thank you,” you muttered to him softly, and he nodded as he closed the car door behind you. 

he walked you to the doorstep, and you both stood infront of the closed door.

“is gigi not home?” he asked, nodding his head towards the windows, and the fact that all of the lights were closed.

“yeah, she uh, she went home with noah.” you responded, pressing your lips together in a line momentarily.

grayson was really trying to be supportive, you could tell, but the way there was a slight tick in his jaw and his shoulders sense told you everything you needed to know.

he nodded once again, a slight clench in his jaw. “right.” 

you chuckled as you hit his shoulder slightly, “relax, she’s really happy, gray. he’s not an axe murderer.” 

“i know, i know that.” he said, as he combed a hair that fell into his face, back in its place with his hand.

“but?” you sensed.

“like i said before, with everything that’s happened in our lives… it’s hard to trust anyone fully.”

“it’s not that hard,” you shrugged, trying to ease the tension, because trust issues with was not a topic you wanted to delve into right now. “i trust you, and i know that you trust me. it’s easy.” 

“of course, because we know eachother. i trust you more than most.“ grayson said, but the way he said the word ‘know’ felt like there was more to it, like it went deeper than just the fact that you ‘went way back’.

“yeah,” you sighed, understanding what he was getting at— but you still had to defend gigi. “and gigi knows noah. you should be able to trust her with her choices.”

he didn’t speak for a moment, thinking before he finally spoke. “you’re right.” he almost sighed, his neck strained like he wanted to say more. 

“… is she,” he paused, “is she truly happy?” he asked. you’d said it before, but maybe he just didn’t believe you. 

you smiled, thinking about all the sleepless nights spent with gigi of her giggling like a schoolgirl with a crush, sleepover sessions - even when you lived in the same apartment - with face masks as you laughed and talked about life. she was happier than you’d ever seen her, healed from the things she wouldn’t quite tell you about.

“yeah, gray.” you said softly, “she is happy.”

he tore his eyes away from you, nodding as he looked at the floor. “that’s good, she deserves it.”

after a moment of silence standing under your door, you grinned, trying to take away that pained look on his face as you changed the subject. “you know, earlier that was the second time you’ve said i’m right today. i’m sort of on a streak.” 

the tension broke away from his face as a slow grin spread across his face. “i’ve began to think; when are you not right?” 

“pretty much never.” you put your hand on the door handle, smiling up at him.  “and another one of my perfect, right ideas, is that having a movie night will make you feel infinitely better and stop your overthinking.”

you cracked the door open further as you took a step in, and he quirked a brow up. “i have no room to say no, i assume?”

“oh please,” you scoffed, “you don’t even want to say no.” grayson walked in, and you were already making your way to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

he shut the door behind him, and you couldn’t see it, but a smile stretched across his face. he shook his head and exhaled a long breath, just before you called out to him.

“i’m going to go do my skincare now, you can pick the movie this time!” 

—

you stood infront of your bathroom mirror, rubbing your cleanser in circular motions on your face. you hummed to yourself, with no particular song in mind. 

you were recalling the whole night in your head, a replay of your favorite moments, and how even the car ride back was fun. 

you wondered what gigi was doing right now, if she was feeling the same sense of happiness.

before you could dwell on that any longer, a soft knock against your bathroom door cut through your thoughts. you splashed water on your face and washed away your face wash.

“come in!”

the door opened softly, revealing grayson on the other side without his suit jacket on, white sleeves rolled up to his forearms for more comfort. 

“are you nearly done?” he asked softly, shoulders leaning against the door frame. not in a way to rush you, or with any sense of annoyance, but because he was genuinely getting bored without you there. 

“almost,” you said as you squeezed out your serum into your hands. 

then you realised you were only on the first step of your routine, ”actually…” you mumbled as you looked at your hands, “this might take a while.” 

when you brought your eyes back up to his, he was looking at you in the strangest way, in a way you’d never seen him look at you before, and let out a breath of a chuckle.

grayson was still standing oddly in the doorframe, though you doubt odd was the right word, you said. “you can um, come in, if you want.”

he walked in, the door shutting softly behind him as he stood next to you behind the sink. 

he picked up the serum you had just put down, and began to read the ingredients on the back of your skincare as you finished up. he offered a slight hum of approval. 

that must’ve been a good sign you weren’t burning your skin off.

grayson turned an unlabeled green tube to you. “what’s this?” 

you hummed, taking your eyes to the product. “oh, that’s a face mask. the label somehow just rubbed off.” you answered half-paying attention.

you took your eyes back to the mirror, before they quickly snapped back 

“wait.” you piped up. “i have an ideaaaa.”

grayson raised a brow as you turned around, “i’ve learned to not trust your ideas.” he said, almost sighing. “what is it?”

you pulled out a pink fluffy headband, one that had bunny ears. “here, wear this.”

“i am not wearing that.”

2 minutes later, grayson davenport hawthorne was wearing a pink headband, with pink eye patches underneath his stormy eyes, and a green face mask on. 

he insisted on applying it himself. 

he also insisted on washing it off just as quick as he had applied it. 

and of course, you were laughing the entire time. he grumbled something under his breath about, “the things i do for you.” 

—

now, you and grayson sat on your couch, opposite ends, a meter ish or so apart. you were halfway through the first movie of the ‘before’ trilogy. there were no lights in your living room apart from the lit candles and the large tv with the movie playing, the room a mix of golden and blue light.

you yawned, reaching for your cold water bottle to help you stay awake. 

the icy water you drank didn’t help though, and you could feel your eyes getting heavier and heavier. 

why were they so goddamn heavy?

maybe it was the sleep talking, but grayson hawthorne’s arms looked extra inviting tonight. 

you shook lightly your head at the thought. you felt grayson look at you in confusion from the corner of your eye, if you were him, you’d be thinking, “is this girl schizophrenic… why is she shaking her head?”. 

you wanted to laugh out loud at that thought, but then you’d look downright mental. you placed you water bottle back on the table infront of you.

you propped your elbow on the armrest of the sofa, your head resting in your hands.

as the two main characters in the movie talked on a train, your eyelids were begging to close. your head shot up slightly every time you’d reopen them, willing yourself to stay awake. 

you took your arm off the armrest and sat with your knees on the sofa, curling up slightly to the other side.

i’m just going to my eyes for a 5 minutes, you told yourself, i’m not even tired.

you stayed true to your word, and your eyes opened 5 minutes later.

only, you weren’t resting on your hand anymore— you were on grayson’s chest, and one of his arms were around you.

you hummed in confusion, using all your energy to get yourself off of grayson’s chest. you rubbed your eyes as you sat up, elbows rested on your knees and face in your hands as you leaned slightly forward.

you took your eyes to the tv in your confused, sleepy state and realised something: the credits were rolling. 

maybe it wasn’t just 5 minutes.

grayson watched you in amusement - only really seeing you from the side and back, “we can turn off the movie, if you’d like. it’s getting late.”

“oh, no. it’s okay,” you attempted to stifle a yawn, but you failed.

“i’m sorry,” you turned your head to look at him, “your movie choice wasn’t boring, i swear,” you giggled, your voice sleepy as you nearly zoned out and fell asleep again. 

“i’m just so exhausted.” you said finally, turning to face him with a small smile on your face. “today was so much fun.”

“it was alright, wasn’t it?” he replied, and you saw the corner of his lips turn up a little. 

you blinked at him, a slow smile spreading across your face. “grayson hawthorne having fun and admitting it,” you chuckled slightly, “who would’ve thought i’d live to see the day?” you nudged him with your elbow, and a smile finally split on his face. 

“you know i always enjoy myself with you, i don’t need to say it.”

“i know,” you said softly as you turned to look at him, the dim candlelight making his eyes look warmer than ever. “it’s still nice to hear, though.” 

“then i’ll tell you more often.” 

your heart did a somersault. “okay, deal.” you hadn’t noticed, but he had sat up fully now — closer to you, and you felt yourself wanting the space between you to be even less. “i tell you my amazing jokes, and you tell me how amazing i am to be around.” 

his eyes traveled your face, “i’d tell you regardless.” he said.”you’re an extraordinary person with a mind like no other. i often find myself fascinated by you.” god, only grayson hawthorne could give compliments that made you feel like you and him were the only people existing. 

“you really think so?” you teased, a smile tugging at your lips. 

“i know so,” he murmured quietly, “and i know you.” at this point, every nerve in your body was screaming for you to break those few inches between you and just kiss the boy already. 

you didn’t, though. 

it looked like grayson was facing the same internal dilemma as you, because his eyes were on your lips far too much for it to just be friendly. he leaned in slightly, and you felt your own breath hitch.

you whispered against his lips, “what are we doing?”

“we can stop,” he said. “we should stop.”

he didnt sound like he wanted to stop.

in fact, he didn’t even look like it, with the way his eyes were so trained in your lips.

you hesitated for a second. all the times you’d spent with grayson played on a loop in your mind, like all the time waiting, not understanding your feelings, and loving him silently were suddenly so worth it. 

“i’ve never been too good at should.”

you noticed his lips twitch upwards at your words, just before he finally pressed them to yours. the way his breath hitched did not go unnoticed. 

the kiss was soft and tentative as you finally crossed the border you’d been tiptoeing around for the past few years.

one of his hands moved to hold your jaw, the other steady on your waist. they felt cold yet somehow comforting.

maybe this was what you needed.

he began to lean forward into the kiss, his weight shifting until you feel him pressing down slightly. you let yourself fall back and feel the couch arm against your shoulders as he kept leaning, his arms bracing on either side of you. 

he was close, closer than before, closer than ever with his chest almost brushing yours, but for some reason, neither of you stopped.

until you remembered: oh, right. oxygen.

when you pulled back you were breathing heavily, both of you were. 

your whole body felt like it was on fire,

you never understood what people meant by their face feeling hot or knowing that they were blushing, but now you got it.

you just hoped you didn’t look as flushed as you felt.

your hands quickly moved up to his face, pulling him down into another kiss again.

it was like, now that you knew how it felt, you had to keep having it.

you were addicted to grayson hawthorne’s lips. 

and by the looks of it, he was addicted to you too. 

this time, when he pulled back, you propped yourself up on your elbows and fully let yourself breathe.

“was that—“ grayson hesitated, “are you alright?”

here you had grayson davenport hawthorne, sitting right next to you on your couch, with ever so slightly messy hair and flushed lips, asking you if you were alright. 

“yeah,” you ran a hand through your hair as you exhaled, “yeah, i’m alright.” 

grayson’s smile almost matched yours after you said that,  “i’m glad,” he said.

“are we…” you trailed off, not knowing exactly what to ask. especially with grayson’s gaze so focused on you— your mind felt blurry.

“are we going to finish the movie?” you managed to come up with; the next installment of the trilogy you had started to watch with him already began to play.

“you’re tired,” he answered, grey eyes cutting through yours, but they still felt soft somehow. “you should sleep, get some rest.” 

“yeah,” you nodded, mind hazy, barely hanging onto his words. you really were tired.

“you couldn’t possibly understand how long i’ve wanted to do that.” he let the words fall off his lips, eyes trailing down to your mouth before he looked all around your face.

“do what?” you knew exactly what.

his eyes focused on yours. “kiss you.”

your cheeks reddened, but you couldn’t not tease him. 

“i mean, how long, exactly? a timeframe would be nice, maybe, or even like a rough estimate—“ 

you cut yourself off at the sound of his low chuckle as he shook his head, as he ran his hand over his mouth.

you felt like you could skip through a million fields, jump up and down for days, and at this rate, never stop smiling. you were so keenly aware of your heartbeat, of every nerve ending buzzing with energy. 

“sorry, i just…” you cut yourself off with a laugh, you seemed to be finding eveyrthing funny. you weren’t sure if that was the lovesick haze in your mind or the lack of sleep making you delirious.

“i’ve also, um. you know…” talking about your feelings was never easy for you, even when it was with someone you knew better than anyone. “wanted to— i mean, i’ve liked you.” 

he slightly narrowed his eyes jokingly, “you don’t seem that assured of yourself there.” he deadpanned, making you push away his shoulder playfully.

“stop,” you mumbled, hiding your face with your hands for a second. “you know better than anyone i can’t say talk about my feelings like that without wanting to throw up.” 

his eyes softened even further, even though you were taking a humorous tone and chuckled at the end. “i know.”

the corners of your lips turned up slightly, for no real reason other than how happy you felt, “

“i should leave, it’s late. gigi will be coming home soon.”

“yeah,” you nodded as you ran a hand through your hair, “you probably should.” 

“i wouldn’t like to,” he specified, “but, it’s more sensible.” 

“yeah. sensible.” you nodded once again, “sensible is good, you’re right. it’s really late.” you laughed for no reason, not even too sure if the words that were spilling out made any sense.

you said goodbye at the door once again, and this time, you felt brave enough to his kiss his cheek goodbye. the action took a lot of courage, even though he had practically been on top of you 30 minutes prior. 

it was actually time for you to go to bed now, and you rolled over relentlessly. you couldn’t count how many times you replayed the moment over and over in your head. 

you brought a hand to your mouth as you fought a smile.

grayson, the boy you’d known since forever. his lips, yours. 

seriously, what was your life? 

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable

@anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07

 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear 

@clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams

@hermesenthusiast

[tojiscrack]

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃

summary: 7k words — while you’re struggling with the difficult pre-calculus questions, megumi ends up finding out information he wasn’t actively searching for.

notes: woah, sumaya released a chapter a week after the last one and not months later? 😱 what caused this? 🫣 @reinaswrld (aka my wife) got a promotion at her job! 🥳 CONGRATULATIONS AGAIN!!! this chapter is dedicated to you and your success, well done <33 ik it’s not much — one of the shortest chapters so far in the story — but it’s building up a bit of plot, i hope you still enjoy it all the same ❤️‼️

tw: a lot of swearing from a very angry man (you’ll see), gossiping, that’s it tbh :)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n, her parents, and other oc’s mentioned in the story. the rest belong to gege akutami.

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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the classroom was organised with a focused, minimalist setup, with rows of sturdy tables that filled most of the space, each paired with two hard-backed chairs that left barely enough room for you to move around without bumping into someone else's desk. you stared up at the whiteboard which took up much of the wall, its surface freshly wiped but faintly marked with smudges from the writing by your favourite teacher in the world — kento nanami — who had made you sit at the front for the sole purpose of doing a one-to-one session on the easier questions that you still somehow struggled with.

a projector hung from the ceiling above, casting crisp, blue-tinted notes and problem sets onto the board. his desk was positioned directly beside the whiteboard, immaculately organised, with a stack of ungraded worksheets, a coffee cup, and a single pen resting beside his computer. you thought satoru could use some tips on how to keep his work space as clean as kento's; you knew he wouldn't listen.

around the room, colourful display boards brightened up the neutral walls, each one crowded with pre-calc formulas, visual aids, and student projects — some crumpled from years of use, others meticulously laminated. none of them were of use to you, not when you found yourself stuck on something as simple as functions and transformations.

"try again," kento — or mr nanami, as he constantly demanded you refer to him as — patiently guided you, sliding a fresh worksheet with extra space for you to do your working out on. the previous one you'd been given had been a complete mess of scribbles, doodles, and working out that made no sense whatsoever.

you spun the pencil through your fingers in a dramatic manner, eyes squinted as you addressed the complicated questions on the sheet.

and gave up the second you saw the graphs.

"i'm failing this class," you decided with a sigh.

kento — mr nanami — shook his head at you, his lips in a straight line as he tapped the sheet.

"you haven't even given it a go," he stated sternly, his cheeks hollowing as he stared down at you. "remember what we went through."

"i already forgot," you admitted, abashed.

kento nanami's gaze was a perfect balance of sternness and patience as he looked down at you, his expression unwavering; his eyes were sharp, fixed intently on you with a hint of exasperation glinting beneath his otherwise calm exterior. it did not look as though he was going to let you give up that easily, no matter how deep your sighs of defeat ran. he tapped the sheet again, and despite it sounding like a couple knocks on the table, it really was a beat that spoke in strong tunes, one that said you're going to try again, whether you like it or not,

so you picked up your pencil, frowning at the size of the eraser attached to its rear end (knowing all too well that it was not going to be enough to keep your paper from becoming a mess of lead by the end of the lesson) and got to work, reading the question, and then re-reading it, trying your hardest to understand it down to a t.

kento had left you to tackle the problems alone as he moved across the room, pausing by other students' desks to offer guidance.

...and then returned to find that your paper was now full of doodles and scribbles. he furrowed his brows and let out a sigh, rubbing his straight brows from where they began, to where they angled downwards, the lines on his forehead more prominent as he tensed.

"i tried," you said, looking sullen.

"i can see that," he replied, and it wasn't just the mess of lead he was talking about; he could see the parts of the paper where you had made an attempt at answering the question, only to give up and then fail miserably.

he leaned against his own desk, peering down at you through his circular glasses. they looked odd to you, specifically the way they stuck onto the skin around his eyes like that. it was almost as peculiar as that weird, spotted tie he always wore.

"how often do you study at home?" he asked you, and the tone of his voice, serious, made you suck in your stomach, an unsettling feeling resting in your tummy.

"every friday," you lied. it wasn't as though he'd know you didn't.

only, he somehow had.

"i know you and your family spend fridays at gojo's," he told you, his brows furrowed.

you paused.

thought of your answer.

and then reconsidered it just in case there were any loopholes he could find.

"yeah," you agreed, nodding, "but i study there too. before dinner."

"no she doesn't."

megumi had approached kento with his notebook and worksheet in hand, his handwriting neat, each letter and number placed with a precision that seemed almost methodical.

you scowled at him as he looked straight at your teacher, barely even regarding you with a simple glance, apparently unbothered by your reaction.

"can you grade my questions?" he asked, only looking down and meeting your gaze with a glare when you kicked him from where you sat.

"you're being rude," you snapped, watching him shake the foot you had kicked.

he looked down at his foot, then at you, then back at his foot, as kento took the notebook out of his hands. "you literally just kicked me," he stated with a deep lour.

"yeah, 'cause you interrupted me when i was talking to kento," you shot back, brows furrowed.

"you mean when you were lying to him," megumi corrected you, an accusatory brow raised.

your cheeks warmed as you averted your gaze, barely managing to suppress a scowl. you crossed your arms, focusing on the scribbled doodles and half-erased notes on your worksheet, ignoring megumi's pointed look as you tapped your pencil against the paper in a futile attempt to appear unaffected, but the stubborn heat on your face betrayed your feigned composure.

"check that last question," said kento, handing megumi his notebook back and pointing at something on his page with the end of his red pen. "otherwise, well done megumi."

megumi nodded, muttering a quiet thanks before sitting back in his seat that was somewhere behind you; you didn't bother checking where after his attitude.

"you," kento began, brows furrowed at you, "need a tutor."

you would have beamed at the idea, if not for already being in a particularly sour mood after megumi's comment. still, you vouched for yourself, even though it meant pushing aside your stubborn pride.

"megumi, he said you have to tutor me," you said, turning around to speak to him — he had been sitting on a table with yuji on his left and nobara on his right. you found yourself seething with envy that you were so unbelievably terrible at math, your friends got to squish themselves on a table for two without you.

"i didn't say that," kento added dismissively. "i said you needed a tutor, not that it'd be megumi."

at that, the both of you peered back up at him, dumbfounded.

"i've done it before," your friend informed your teacher, his brows raised expectantly. "she takes forever, but —"

you narrowed your eyes at him. "was that really necessary?"

kento shook his head regardless.

you frowned, looking back at megumi, and you could have sworn you'd seen his shoulders deflate slightly too, but your teacher remained firm, regarding you with tight lips and furrowed brows.

"you get distracted very easily," he told you, his hands resting in the pockets of his formal pants. he nodded in the direction of where your friends were sitting without you. "specifically with megumi."

"megumi and i work very well together, actually," you corrected, unaware of yuji shaking his head in disagreement behind you. he'd stopped when you turned to see where kento's eyes had slowly drifted, suspicious. "even though he's really rude when he teaches me ��"

"— i'm not rude —"

"— and super judgemental when i get something wrong," you continued over him; he was most likely glaring at the back of your head, you didn't need to see him to know that, "i still learn a lot."

"while that might be true, something always happens to go wrong when the two of you work together," said kento, and even though he was gentle with his approach on this topic, it still felt like a harsh kick to the stomach. "you aren't sensible."

"i'm sensible," megumi openly disagreed.

you did not appreciate his obvious jab at you. "wha— so am i!"

and to your dismay, yuji had intervened. "no you're not!" he jumped in, expression fierce as he pointed at you accusingly. "you told mr haibara my art work was made out of a toilet accident!"

"well it looked like a toilet accident," you shot back, your face relaxed, eyes half-lidded.

"he asked for her opinion," said nobara — your sweet nobara — coming to your defence without a second thought. she leaned over megumi to speak to yuji directly. "what did you expect her to do, ignore him?"

"if she's capable of saying my art piece looks like a pile of shit smeared on some paper, she's capable of ignoring someone!"

it was kento's slight groan that had the four of you looking up at him, and when you did, you'd been met with the sight of him pinching the bridge of his nose, his glasses lifted by his fingers as he let out an exasperated sigh. kento did not enjoy it when the four of you would argue: he said it distracted the class despite your peers having discussions, jokes, and even arguments amongst themselves, unaware of the little spats you'd have with each other.

"enough," he voiced coolly, before regarding both you and megumi with a look of finality. "you have proven my exact point."

"i wasn't even—" megumi began, but you cut through him straight away. it wasn't like he was going to vouch for anyone but himself anyway, the selfish bastard.

"we're not like this at home," you argued passionately, brows raised in a desperate attempt to get kento to consider your situation, even if it meant dealing with a very judgemental megumi, who was never gentle when teaching you.

it seemed that your statement had only strengthened kento's decision to assign you a tutor who wasn't megumi, for his brows had drawn into a firm line, his gaze much harsher as he stared you with what seemed like a mix of finality and resolve.

"i saw the two of you at gojo's birthday last year," he'd said calmly. "the piñata was meant for him, not you."

ah.

kento was talking about the incident where you had 'hijacked' (as satoru had eloquently put it) his birthday piñata. you scoffed — he lived to tell the tale, with that goofy look on his face that was apparently meant to make you sympathise with him, but lived nonetheless.

it wasn't as though anybody was harmed in the process.

kento adjusted his glasses and regarded you with narrowed eyes. "it was also meant to be beaten open with a weapon, y/n. not megumi's head."

"arguably, his crazy hair is a danger to us all, and therefore a weapon of mass destruction," you stated, and found yourself internally pleased when you heard both yuji's and nobara's quiet snickering. "the piñata would agree."

you heard yuji and nobara's chuckles sputter into startled groans, abruptly cut off by a telltale thunk that had megumi written all over it. you couldn't help a sly chuckle as you glanced their way, where the pair nursed their sore heads with matching looks of betrayal, nobara muttering something that sounded a lot like a threat on megumi's life.

he, of course, remained unfazed, still glaring at you, looking about as done as kento had seemed, and sensing his icy gaze narrow further, you quickly schooled your face into a mask of innocent defiance.

"i'm not tutoring you," megumi replied bluntly, and you barely had the time to process that and groan before kento had intervened again.

"that settles it," he said, no longer leaning on his desk and now holding a finger up in a silent motion of 'no more' when your lips had parted to speak. "i will search for someone who i think will be best to tutor you —"

"but megumi —"

"— and is willing to do so too," he said, before picking up a folder, searching through it, and handing you a new worksheet with a different set of questions. "have a go at these before i come back, y/n."

he had left to go and approach other students, moving briskly towards those with raised hands, leaving you with only the fresh worksheet in your own hand, and a sigh caught somewhere between your frustration and reluctant determination.

you only hoped your tutor would be someone you could get along with.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

yuji and megumi walked side by side down the bustling hallway, their steps quick as they wove through clusters of students lingering between classes.

yuji had animatedly recounted an outrageous tale about how choso and todo had finally met, and how it had gone terribly wrong in only a matter of seconds. megumi was silent throughout the story, his mind wandering elsewhere, but he still managed to pay attention and had got the general gist of the story. in fact, megumi was certain that he could summarise it all in one simple sentence, something that yuji had failed to do: yuji's brothers did not like each other and were essentially fighting over him.

yuji squinted his eyes as sunlight streamed in from the tall windows, casting warm beams across their path as they neared the business classroom. megumi raised his arm to shield himself, blinking off the colourful spots in his vision.

"when did all that happen?" he asked, a crease between his brows from the frown he'd been holding up.

"after practice last week tuesday," said yuji, casually, "when i tried catching the early bus, remember?"

"i thought you got the early bus," megumi replied, the two of them taking a right where they'd find their classroom. they'd been stalling for a bit, walking round in circles in different areas of the school, but it was nearly time before the bell rang.

yuji nodded. "i did, but todo insisted on dropping me off. i said no, but — you know him, he doesn't take no for an answer."

megumi knew that quite well. when he first met todo and he'd demanded megumi to tell him his type, no matter how many times he'd refused to, todo remained persistent.

it was annoying.

"and then they met — and then everything was just —"

when the pink-haired boy had stopped speaking so abruptly, megumi glanced over at him.

yuji's gaze drifted into the distance, his eyes widening slightly as he seemed to lose track of his story mid-sentence. megumi furrowed his brows at him, watching his mouth hang open for a beat, the usual spark in his expression dimming as he focused intently on something across the hall. slightly confused, megumi turned to follow yuji's line of sight, the silence between them suddenly weighted, and megumi could only lour at what he'd seen.

"hey," yuji began, voice distant, "isn't that tsumiki?"

across the hallway, kamo stood beside tsumiki, his posture formal yet oddly relaxed, hands resting in his pockets with a quiet attentiveness. tsumiki, in turn, seemed engaged, her expression open and bright, using light hand gestures and motions that she usually did when explaining something.

megumi had seen the same thing in different areas of the school: during study hall, he'd seen tsumiki wave kamo goodbye, just before lunch had ended, he'd seen kamo walking her to her english class, and for the nth time that day, he was watching them interact, watching as tsumiki listened attentively, nodding along with something he was saying.

what the hell was going on? since when did kamo and tsumiki talking to each other become so frequent? was that ever a thing to begin with? megumi couldn't comprehend any of what he was seeing.

but he couldn't blame himself for his lack of understanding here, for everything that had happened in the past week regarding kamo had been odd, especially since that conversation his teammates had had in the locker rooms before practice.

and with a more relaxed, loose expression, megumi realised what that meant; how had this not been the first thought in his mind?

tsumiki was someone that both megumi and yuji knew pretty well. he'd completely ruled out the possibility that kamo would find interest in someone older despite majority of his teammates doing exactly that — they liked older girls.

he just did not believe that any one of them would be interested in his sister.

"yeah," megumi nodded, biting his inner cheek to avoid the natural scowl that he knew was trying to make an appearance. "it is."

"why's she talking to —"

"i don't know," said megumi, now wanting more than ever to enter class early, if only to get rid of the disgusting sight before him. he wished he could also say that he did not care, but he was curious, and he wanted to know what was actually happening between them. "let's go."

"oh, she saw us!" said yuji, raising a hand to wave. "she's saying hi!"

megumi didn't look to see whether this was true or not, but he didn't doubt it, only choosing to ignore his sister entirely and go to his class, half annoyed when he realised that kamo would follow behind him soon since they shared the same one.

"megumi, she's — she's saying hi —" yuji repeated, sounding taken aback by megumi and his cold response of ignoring her entirely.

megumi stepped into the classroom, his expression tight and shoulders tense as he made his way towards his usual seat at the back. the lively hum of conversation around him felt distant, each sound fading as he focused on shaking off the odd irritation from the hallway, and not even a moment later, yuji had trailed behind him, loudly questioning why megumi was ignoring tsumiki, his voice ringing through the quiet room. his obliviousness hung in the air, adding to megumi's quiet frustration as he sank into his seat, mentally urging his friend to just sit down and stop broadcasting his every thought.

to his dismay, yuji did not stop, not even when kamo had entered the room, walking over to his seat parallel to the two.

the rest of the class went by as usual, the only difference being the constant voice at the back of megumi's mind — nagging and pressing — reminding him of what he'd seen throughout the week.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

megumi stood just outside the theatre hall, his figure casting a long shadow on the tile floor as the late afternoon light filtered in through the high windows. the hallway was quiet now, only the faint sound of distant chatter echoing from a classroom down the hall, while the smell of fresh paint and worn wood from the theatre room seeped faintly into the corridor.

dressed in his football uniform, his hair still damp from practice, he idly scanned the posters pinned on the corkboard outside the door: upcoming plays, rehearsals, and auditions for the semester. there was even a picture of you from one of the plays back in sophomore year, a huge success, according to the school newsletter attached to it. he remembered that one, a re-telling of rosalind and how even through the mess your family had caused behind the scenes, you had remained professional enough to take your role as the lead and make something better of it — it was admirable, not that he'd ever tell you that.

he crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall, his eyes occasionally drifting to the door as he waited, his gaze relaxed. when he heard footsteps at the other end of the corridor, light and unhurried, he turned his head, brow twitching slightly as tsumiki closed the large distance between them, a gentle smile tugging at her lips, holding a file to her chest as he swiped the damp strands of his hair away from his forehead.

she stopped just short of him, glancing down at his feet. he followed her gaze, frowning when she didn't speak.

"what?" he said, defensive.

she pointed at his socks, stained with grass. "you're gonna walk in your house with those?"

megumi shot her a look, half grimacing, half glaring. "no," he snapped, snippy. "i'm gonna take them off at the front door."

she shrugged, holding her pink folder to her chest as she leaned against the same wall he had been leaning against.

"i knew i'd find you here," she said, the fluorescent lights above softening her already-gentle features, casting a warm glow that blended with the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the nearby windows.

megumi grunted in response. it was enough to show that he acknowledged her comment. she understood that well enough.

"what do you need?" he asked her, flinching when a random cymbal crash had sounded from inside the hall. he could bet his two dogs it was because of you. "i'm not doing your stats homework again."

"no, silly," she laughed, nudging his side and relishing in the slight hiss he'd let out — yuji had tackled him hard on the field during practice, driving his weight into megumi's side and slamming him mercilessly against the grass. the impact bit deeper than he'd expected, the sharp sting lingering even an hour later. "i was gonna ask you a question."

"ok."

...

"you're not gonna ask me what it is?"

"you're the one that needs to ask the question here."

"stop acting like aunt maude, megumi," scolded tsumiki, making an attempt to pinch his side. he slapped her hand away, cross and displeased with her playful nature. "anyway," she sighed, apparently having given up on trying to tease him any further than he'd let her, "don't get mad at me when i ask this."

he looked down at her, a feeling that still felt strange. only this past summer had he finally outgrown her, and after spending most of his life looking up to meet her gaze, he still wasn't quite used to the new perspective.

he didn't like the look she was sporting. it was something in between a sensible smile and a mischievous grin.

"don't say anything to make me mad," he shot back, brows furrowed.

tsumiki held her file closer to her chest, like a mother protectively cradling her baby.

"let me say a quick prayer before i ask," she said, meeting his sharp gaze with a small frown. "what? i don't wanna get attacked when i ask."

he scowled. "i'm not gonna atta—"

but she wasn't paying attention, her eyes closed as she cupped her hands and whispered her prayers into it. megumi could have sworn he heard her mutter something along the lines of 'protect me from the evil standing right next to me'. if he hadn't been taught that disrupting a prayer was a form of evil, he would have hit her twice on the head by now, but the last thing he needed to do was prove a point.

once she'd blown into her chest, she faced the wall opposite them with a smile, letting out a small breath.

"that was stupid," he muttered, unimpressed.

"didn't ask," she hummed, before clearing her throat. "are you interested in anyone?"

he was wrong — perhaps she did need that prayer after all.

megumi peered down at her, a brow raised, judging.

his usual sharp composure faltered for a moment as he processed her question. a frown twitched at the edge of his mouth, and his eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to decipher the motive behind her sudden curiosity. this wasn't like her usual teasing — it had an edge of genuine interest that unsettled him in a way he couldn't quite place.

"what the hell?" he demanded, visibly disgusted and audibly confused.

"you're making this bigger than it needs to be," she huffed, bringing a hand up to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "it's just as simple as any other question."

"except you've never asked me that before," he retorted, glowering as she shrugged, her eyes tracing the display board, the one with your image on it.

her expression shifted to a thoughtful calm, taking in each photo and flyer pinned neatly on the cork surface, her fingers tapping lightly against the folder she held, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

megumi didn't understand what was so amusing about her question.

it was confusing; it made no sense.

"so?" she prompted, nudging his side for the second time that day; he shrugged her off, annoyed. "is there any girl you like? any girl you think you like?"

"what's it to you?" he interrogated, placing his helmet over his head to block her out of his peripheral vision. maybe if she wasn't being so annoying, he wouldn't have to do that.

she didn't hesitate when she answered him.

"i'm asking because of an event," said tsumiki, and as she spoke, the sound of shuffling had penetrated megumi's thick helmet, entering his ears, prompting him to turn and glance down at her to see what she was doing. from the lines on his helmet, he could see her shuffling through pages in her folder, before eventually pulling out a purple flyer and offering it to him. sceptically and suspiciously, he took it. "'cause i'm organising it, i get vip tickets for friends and family. i wanted to give you one, and if you have anyone in mind, give her one too. but you're being so secretive."

"i'm not being secretive," said megumi, barely reading the flyer's contents. he was sure he wasn't going to go anyway, he never usually did anyway. he handed it back to her, waving it when she wouldn't take it. "i just don't have anyone."

she sniffed, pushing the flyer back towards him. "could've just said that."

"you were being suspicious," he sneered, eyes narrowed as tsumiki shook her head at him, disagreeing. he clicked his tongue, disapproving. "i don't even go to any of the school stuff anyway."

tsumiki raised a brow at him, visibly sceptical.

"what about homecoming?" she suggested, and megumi was thrown back in time to when he'd been struggling to avoid satoru and his 'bonding time' (which was essentially just picking out expensive suits together). "winter formal? spring fling? the spring formal last year?"

he remembered all of those quite well. still, he remained stagnant.

"i only went to those 'cause y/n dragged me to them."

tsumiki reached up and knocked on his helmet. he scowled and harshly moved her hand away, failing once, twice, three times before she finally stopped.

"did y/n hold a gun to your head?" she asked him, watching as he slowly took his helmet off and shook his hair out of his eyes. he was in need of a haircut soon, he thought to himself, reminded of his mom who politely nagged at him every day about it.

"mentally, she did," he commented quietly. he locked gazes with tsumiki and looked away not even a second later. "does."

a flicker of thought crossed megumi's mind. he recalled the multiple times he'd caught glimpses of tsumiki with kamo throughout the day — small moments, brief exchanges, but enough to catch his attention. she'd been smiling, animated even, in a way that felt unusual.

he acted on this prickle of curiosity, brows furrowed.

"are you taking anyone?" he questioned, looking down at the flyer to clarify. "to the... choir?"

tsumiki shook her head, a look of mild frustration pained over her face. "ever since satoru and your dad scared derek off last year, i... i stopped looking."

megumi raised a brow at her, very clearly critical of her hesitant response. "you stopped looking or they stopped approaching you?"

tsumiki's usual warmth seemed dimmed, her kind expression weighed down with a mix of weariness and irritation, brows knitted slightly with a faint line of frustration formed between them as her gaze shifted to the side, avoiding megumi's probing look.

"they stopped approaching me," she admitted with a sigh, but she was smiling, so megumi assumed it wasn't a massive bother.

not when she seemed to be hitting it off with kamo, apparently...

"so why do you keep talking to kamo?" he asked, straightforward and blunt. there was, in his view, no point beating around the bush or sugarcoating it. it would take too long for her to explain and equally longer for him to just get to the point. he did not have the time nor the patience for that.

there was a gentleness in her face, but it looked stretched thin, as if the weight of the question had caught up, stunning her momentarily. her lips parted briefly, like she wanted to explain, but ultimately came to the decision where in the end, she would not.

"wouldn't you like to know?" she settled on saying, her lip curled.

it irritated megumi.

"i don't," he lied, his voice distant and quiet.

"kamo's a nice guy," said tsumiki, as though trying to feed him this information little by little, like a child being monitored with how much candy they consume. "a really nice guy, actually."

megumi did not particularly agree with this, but he was not going to communicate that with tsumiki, not when she seemed so starstruck by him. megumi didn't even think she felt this strongly about derek carter from the basketball team; it rubbed him the wrong way, knowing that he might have to see one of his football teammates — other than yuji — turn up to dinner at satoru's every once in a while on fridays.

even so, he didn't necessarily believe kamo to be a bad guy.

he was decent: megumi respected his ability to never indulge in gossip as well as the company he always chose to keep — except for todo, that was something he silently critiqued.

but kamo and tsumiki...?

odd pairing, he thought to himself.

"he can hold a conversation better than i thought he could," tsumiki added thoughtfully, slightly nodding to herself as she spoke. "and... he's considerate."

megumi averted his gaze back to the display board, now uninterested.

"will i be seeing him around more?" he asked her without actually looking at her properly. he wasn't in support of this odd pairing, but if tsumiki genuinely liked noritoshi kamo, he wasn't going to actively try and prevent them from happening.

that did not, however, mean he couldn't silently judge them in his head.

and perhaps verbally with nobara, too, since she did feel quite strongly about his teammate ("he acts like he doesn't care about anything, with that 'i don't care' attitude, but look at his face! he's trying too hard, so he definitely does!").

"possibly," said tsumiki, smiling gracefully.

as the muffled sound of voices grew louder, both tsumiki and megumi instinctively turned their heads towards the theatre hall doors, where a steady flow of students began spilling into the corridor. the doors swung open, and megumi's gaze sharpened as he and tsumiki lightly searched the crowd, his eyes moving over familiar faces until they landed on you, standing and walking amidst your classmates.

you approached the two with a smile.

"ooh, tsumiki, you walking home with us?" you asked brightly, adjusting the strap of your bag as you shoved your papers inside. judging from the format of the text, megumi assumed it was a script for another play.

"mamaguro invited me over for dinner," she explained casually, "but she said absence isn't an option, so..."

"ugh, i'm jealous," you frowned, gesturing to your bag to clarify what you meant. "i want to come over too but i have a script to memorise by next week, and i need help with the pre-calc homework kento gave us today."

tsumiki's eyes darted between you and megumi, her lips pursed as though she had been missing something significant.

"megumi's... not able to help you with that?" she asked, her voice an octave higher with apparent confusion.

you raised your brows. "no, he can."

megumi aided you. "i just won't."

tsumiki's head tilted ever so slightly, and a faint crease appeared on her forehead, the kind she only got when she was trying to piece together a particularly baffling puzzle. her lips then parted as if to ask something, but she hesitated, scanning megumi's indifferent expression and your casual one with a slow shake of her head.

"i'm not gonna ask," she settled on saying, before you noticed the flyer in megumi's hand.

leaning in closer, you scanned the leaflet's front, eyebrows lifting in genuine surprise. the fact that megumi of all people was holding onto one left you momentarily speechless, lips parted as you took in the big, bold text, still a little stunned.

"what's that?" you asked, barely waiting for an answer before reading it aloud. "'choir day: join us and learn the trombone' ... you're actually going to that?"

"no," hestated, looking down and shaking the flyer at tsumiki as though he'd forgotten that he had been holding it. "i'd even pick your stupid plays over some choir show here."

you nudged him with your foot, not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to remind him of who he was speaking to.

"they're not stupid, they're fun," you corrected him with a scowl, pleased when he stepped away from you and threw you a light, warning glare.

tsumiki clicked her fingers at him, making him turn his head and his attention over to her, attentive, like a dog.

"and you're sure you're not taking anyone?" she'd said, brows raised as she opened her folder and tapped at a sheet of paper in it.

you perked up, nonplussed. "you're taking someone?"

"no," he snapped, turning to tsumiki again with a glare. the three of you had started walking out of the hallway now, making your way to the exit. "i told you, i'm not into any girls."

tsumiki, placed in between the two of you, nodded thoughtfully. "ah, so you swing the other way?"

without hesitation, megumi gave her a firm shove, sending her stumbling sidewards — right into you.

"don't be stupid," he'd said over your loud protests, planting his feet firmly onto the ground as tsumiki stood behind him, regaining her balance.

"no, tsumiki, he likes princess jasmine," you told her over his shoulder, watching her enthusiastically nod in agreement.

"i don't —"

"that's why little you's cheeks turned red when her outer robe fell off —" you teased as you walked right up to him, prepared to attack because of his careless shove against tsumiki. 

but he was one step ahead of you.

just as you moved to strike, he planted the helmet on your head and delivered a solid smack to its top. the sound reverberated around you, ringing in your ears, while a dull ache radiated from the point of impact.

your brain had too much fog to focus on what he was now doing to tsumiki. all you could see, through several hard blinks and the stupid face mask lines, was megumi's back, which meant that he was now towering over tsumiki and launching a range of attacks.

you had an idea:

bending over, his helmet now in line with his behind, you charged forward like an angry bull, your head colliding with his back (a stiff one, you had to mention) repeatedly.

"what the—" you heard him grunt.

you couldn't see it, but he was looking down at you from over his shoulder, confused and inwardly concerned with your choice of attack.

it did hurt though, so he'd have to put a stop to it anyway, and that would've been easy to do if tsumiki wasn't now tugging on his hair and stomping on his foot.

from the far end of the hallway, a teacher spotted the scuffle and rushed forward, his expression quickly shifting from irritation to outright disbelief. apparently, he'd first assumed it was a classic tussle between a group of rowdy boys; the vigorous shoving, stomping, and grunts gave that impression from a distance, but as he got closer, he had blinked in surprise, recognising that the three of you involved were a pair of girls and only one boy.

"right, just... walk home safely, you three," he'd said, eyeing megumi's creased jersey and dishevelled hair with a grimace. when his eyes darted to you, the helmet still on your head, he nodded. "bye... y/n."

"no i'm megumi, can't you tell —"

"let's go," megumi grumbled, gripping onto your elbow and tugging you forward with a little more force than necessary.

you shoved him off and walked beside tsumiki again.

the rest of the journey home was filled with collective bullying, laughter, and a disgruntled megumi who vowed to keep you and tsumiki away from each other at all costs. you were rubbing off on her and he didn't like it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

toji shoved satoru off of him once the door had been kicked shut behind him, his chest puffed out in an attempt to appear more intimidating, but he knew the childish man wouldn't flinch even if he bit at him.

"you touch me again and you're gonna end up in a hospital bed you white haired —"

"shut up," satoru groaned, his words drawn out in apparent exhaustion.

toji did not like this demand, parting his lips to say something — no doubt some sort of threat — but satoru had been quicker: for the first time since toji's known him, he was jumping straight to the point.

"look, i don't like you, and you don't like me —"

"incorrect," said toji, arms folded over his chest, though his fists were still clenched where they rested on each side of his waist.

satoru grimaced.

that look — staring back at him with one side of his upper lip lifted, his brows raised and contorted, his nose scrunched. toji wanted nothing more than to punch it right off, a clean swipe.

however, it seemed that he didn't have to, for his face had shifted into one he recognised even better...

the cocky one.

he hated that one even more.

"see, i'm flattered, fushiguro," he began, grinning as toji's nails cut right into each of his palms, leaving half moon crescent marks behind, "really, i am, but i have a wife —"

toji's nostrils flared dangerously.

"shut-the-fuck-up-before-i-shove-my-fist-in-your-fucking-mouth-you-cocky-fucking-bastard —"

satoru raised his hands in mock surrender.

"woah there buddy —"

"you got it fucking twisted," snapped toji, stepping up to the other male with a menacing glare. "i hate your guts. i wouldn't spit on you if you were on fire — and even now, i wanna squash you where you stand, like a bug. consider yourself lucky my wife likes you —"

"i am not the enemy here!" satoru interrupted him loudly.

without breaking eye contact with the enraged, bulky man before him, he pointed at the door behind him where laughter and chatter sounded from members of the gathering.

"we have a common enemy out there. and just this once... aside from the time the serial-hump-er was out for us men... i offer a truce to get rid of the brat."

derek carter was, by all outward appearances, exactly the kind of guy most people would be thrilled to see with someone like tsumiki. he was relentlessly polite, with a clean-cut look and a warm, ready smile that seemed designed to put parents at ease. always prepared, he carried her books without needing to be asked, laughed at all the right moments, and brought flowers to meet the family — not that toji or satoru could find anything wrong with him, on paper.

and maybe that was the problem.

he was too perfect.

perfectly timed smiles, perfect grades, perfect compliments... to toji and satoru, he seemed like he was performing rather than being genuine, and that subtle insincerity — whether real or perceived — set them both on edge. neither of them bought it, and both of them, despite their very obvious differences, couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't quite what he appeared to be.

toji's defensive posture shifted, shoulders loosening as satoru's offer had started to sink in. his glare had softened, the tension in his clenched fists releasing as he glanced from satoru to the closed door behind him, where derek's too-perfect laughter rang out.

for a moment, toji just scowled at the ground, processing, and satoru had assumed he had lost the deal, that they would not be able to collectively get rid of the perfect brat of a date that tsumiki had brought out. but then, toji looked up again, and gave him a quick, almost reluctant nod.

satoru gave him a toothy grin, which was not returned.

"what did you have in mind?" toji began, his voice gruff with obvious reluctance.

"hate to say it, but i'm gonna have to be the brains behind this," said satoru, sounding all too pleased with himself.

if toji hadn't been so pissed with the sight of that carter kid, he might have actually spent time being suspicious with the white-haired freak. what if he was setting him up again? it certainly wouldn't have been the first time...

"believe me, i'd love to be in on the action too," he continued, still smiling that dopy smile, "but i'm a teacher at the high school. got a rep to keep up. and... i could lose my job, obviously..." he glanced at toji with a small, cheeky grin. "you wouldn't be able to relate —"

"— get to the fucking point —"

"— all right."

the plan had been made, enacted, and even altered slightly during it.

the chaos that followed was a carefully orchestrated disaster. satoru's brilliant plan had required toji to bring back a bothersome personality trait he had put at rest from meeting his wife onwards, turning an already uncomfortable event into a whirlwind.

plates clattered, chairs tipped, and the silverware clinked at the most inopportune moments, all while derek had tried to keep his composure, only to grow more visibly unnerved as the night went on. between satoru's subtle, deadpan remarks that derek barely caught, and toji's unexpected, pointed comments that cut through any remaining calm, derek found himself squirming, second-guessing every word. and when toji made a point of 'accidentally' standing too close, arms crossed, looming like a silent bouncer, that had been the final straw.

tsumiki's date excused himself with a pale face, disappearing through the door as fast as he could without actually running.

in turn, tsumiki had not spoken to either of them again for a whole, entire week.

at least the brat was gone without any legal reinforcements.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

notes: i hope you enjoyed this chapter (congrats again reinaswrldddd) my wifeee 🎀💓 i hope it pleases you, i hope you become rich and rule the world (gonna need it after trump’s win 😐). you’re the best and ily (did you guys know that she’s my wife? 😱❤️‍🔥)

taglist (send an ask or comment to be added):

@1l-ynn @shaigimo @shuupiu @nappingnai @xbarrjallenx @reinaswrld @anintrovertedechoe @momoewn @polarbvnny @lailuv21 @cherriee-ee @hfuensiekabhsufnd @k0z3me @laughingfcx @jelly-fsh @anonymity-222 @blubearxy @jamypam

© tojiscrack (previously ack4rwoman)

if you enjoyed my writing, i’d really appreciate it if you tipped me — tumblr no longer has the tip function, so maybe here in my tip jar :)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

[hwaightme]

03:10 AM

(masterlist)

🌃pairing: bf!seonghwa x gn!reader 🌃genre: timestamp, comfort, healing, fluff 🌃summary: 3am, a time for overthinking. is love louder than your thoughts? 🌃wordcount: 1k 🌃warnings/tags: unedited, introspection, lack of confidence, two people in love, kissing, cute sleepy seonghwa, writer is rusty 🌃taglist: at the bottom. would love to add you if interested <3 🌃a/n: oh how i wish to write again, to pour words onto pages and let my heart bleed into the ink. this timestamp is mildly inspired by maro's 'we've been loving in silence'. sorry for rustiness, and any love is so appreciated...

Everyone is deserving of love. Love in all its shapes and colours. A love that looks like a tender conversation in a tiny kitchen, a love that looks like unstoppable laughter under the starry night sky, a love that looks like unwavering dedication and adoration even when it seems impossible. Every person is worthy of a love that makes their heart feel full while being fully aware of the world and all its complexities, shadows and anguish. A love that gives one hope.

Sometimes, this complicated feeling looks like speeding down the city streets as a salvation in the time of trouble. It could even look like a distraught, disjointed embrace accompanied by a cacophony of sobs and stuttered breaths. Love can look like feeling another’s pain, living through it as if it is one’s own. Love can mean heartbreak, over and over again until there is seemingly nothing left, and yet still the ground up powder of affection would be offered as a sacrifice to this mystery.

What is love to you?

You wonder, particularly on nights like this, when a blanket of calm covers the metropolis in which you found yourself, not too dissimilar to a shell being washed up on the shore to encounter a glorious, blazing sun. A twinkling magic on the other side of the glass greets you, and you rest a finger on the coolness, tracing distant shapes of building after building, only to haphazardly wipe it down with the edge of your sleeve. How did you end up in a place where you thought you would never be, feeling what you had sworn you would be unable to feel? 

A gentle melancholy aches in your chest, etching the curves and edges of your ribcage, an incessant little bird, bubbling up that old sense of unease. What is this that you are living in? If you do not know, will it go away? The loud mind, an old friend and enemy, one which had accompanied you through all stages of your life, to find itself equally as bewildered as your heart, but a lot more terrified. Caught between bliss and a painful awareness of the unknown, you walk a tightrope blindfolded.

At least until a hand reaches out for you, warm, reassuring, and guides you across to an oasis. A beating heart, a familiar breath, palm pressed against your upper arm take you out of your spiralling musings, and beckon you to look in the direction of a soft, barely audible whisper of ‘my love’. 

You turn to meet Seonghwa’s eyes, endless pools of glistening brown sugar, enough to both extinguish and ignite, turn dark to light and wrong to right. A timeless poetry is in his face, the rhythm of his features casting a spell over you as you glance over them. These sleepy eyes, stunning nose and cheeks that bear a pinkish hue, plush lips caught in a miniscule pout, dishevelled hair that you know your boyfriend tried to tame, to no avail. You turn your body to meet him fully, and fall into his arms. They envelop you tightly, and you inhale the ghostly remnants of his cologne, a tantalising note of his, and your favourite shampoo, all intricately blended with fabric softener and cotton - put simply, you are home.

“Why aren’t you sleeping, hm?” he asks, voice still a little raspy. It must have been only minutes since he woke up to find you.

“I’m sorry… Did I wake you?”

“Mm… no. Your absence woke me up,” you could cry, not that you would say it, or rather have to say it. Seonghwa knows how his words affect you anyways, judging by the swift squeeze of his arms before he returns to slowly rocking side to side. 

“I just had a lot of thoughts. Wanted to get rid of them somehow.”

“Want to talk about them?” 

You are not sure if you would be able to summon enough courage to talk about what is plaguing you, at least now, in the semi-darkness of yours and his apartment, you feel far too fragile to look inside of the boxes you keep shuffling. Unbeknownst to yourself, you begin to bite your lower lip, trying to pick the right words. Any attempt to formulate whatever excuse you have been seeking inevitably fails as Seonghwa’s lips find yours, erasing your habit, erasing your worry. Caught off-guard, a quiet gasp escapes you, only to be rewarded by an airy chuckle.

“So… not talking, then?” you press your face into the crook of his neck, sensing heat rising on your cheeks. 

“You surprised me, is all…” you trail off, slowly guiding yourself upwards, but still being unable to meet Seonghwa’s gaze.

“I’ll happily kiss all your worries away, if that’s what it takes,” his tone is humorous, and the phrase is light-hearted. His glances into your eyes, at your lips, at the strands of hair that you know he will adjust for you like he usually does, holding promise and commitment. If you so wish, he will. If you so want, he will. If you so will, he most definitely will. 

Your hands grip onto his sleeping shirt as you mumble a thanks, inching closer until your timid smile melts into his. A pleasantly languid rhythm, a moonlit paradise, drawing a masterpiece with your bodies until you are struggling to breathe. An adorable exchange of sweet nothings as you fill your lungs with air, no distinction of space nor time while you are in this trouble-less duet. A small peck on Seonghwa’s lips prompts him to pull you in again, eyes fluttering shut as he floats, flies, soars in love with you. You swear you can see the stars while the taste of his cherry lip balm lingers.

As you follow him back to bed, sinking into the sheets with a sigh, inklings of somnolence settle over your slow-moving intertwined bodies. His breath turns steady, a comforting rise and fall against your back. Seonghwa’s hand is over yours, thumb making random patterns on your skin.

“Dream of me,” he says against your shoulder, grinning when he hears your sharp exhale.

This, this is love to you.

🌃taglist: @shakalakaboomboo @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @innsomniacshinestar @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @maddkitt @ren-junwrld @marsstarxhwa @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @northerngalxy @my-loves-my-life @http-gyu

enjoyed? i would love to hear from you, it means the universe to me. thank you.

[elizabethsnuts]

I love your stories!!!! Can I request Hotch's toddler daughter absolutely being his mini me in looks but her personality is basically Penelope's lol? And Hotch's daughter always insists in wanting to dress and twin with Aunty Penelope? <3

Aunty Penelope

Aaron Hotcher x Daughter!Reader

Summary: You took a visit to your Aunty Penelope in her office, making sure to twin with her in outfits.

———

You were no doubt your father's daughter, from your looks to the way you talked and even the way you stood. You were his absolute mini-me, but also his polar opposite in the personality department. You were the brightest little cheerful girl, you loved bright colours and fun quirky things. You loved dressing up like your Aunty Penelope, You loved her.

You were sitting in your nursery, watching Aaron rummage around in your closet to try and find some clothes for you to wear for the day. You shook your head for the hundredth time. “Dada… want Aunty ‘nelope clothes!”

Aaron groaned quietly, staring into your closet. “Y/N… sweetheart, your wardrobe is nothing but colour. I’m sure anything in there is considered ‘Aunty Penelope clothes’. She’ll love whatever you have on, baby.”

You copied Aaron’s groan, flopping onto your back and hitting the floor. These were the rare times you were annoyed with everything. You didn’t want to wear a basic purple shirt with a boring flower pattern on it, you wanted something fun like Penelope always did. “Want silly socks!”

Aaron gave a slow, tired nod, putting the shirt back in the wardrobe. “I know you want silly socks, baby. But you also need clothes, alright? We can’t just wear silly socks.”

You sat back up and rubbed your eyes, looking into your wardrobe to finally make a choice. “Pink butterflies…”

Aaron let out a small sigh of relief, taking out the pink dress that was covered in bright-coloured butterflies. “We can do the butterfly dress. Good choice, Aunty Penelope will love it.”

Aaron got you changed into the dress, helping you put on your socks which had a swirly circle design on them, as well as putting cute pink bows in your hair with red Mary Jane’s on your feet. He even added your colourful, fun, matching bracelet and necklace, they really made you feel like your Aunty Penelope.

———

Aaron had to hold onto your hand tightly as they exited the elevator, knowing full well that you’d try and run to Penelope’s office, despite not having the best coordination which often meant you ran into things… or people. Aaron was not about to have a repeat of that in a building filled with FBI agents. “Alright, Y/N, slow down. We have to be respectful okay? People are working.”

You let out a little giggle, cuddling your pink blankie to your chest in excitement as the two of you made your way into the bullpen. “We see Aunty ‘nelope.”

Aaron nodded in confirmation for what felt like the millionth time. He kept his grip gentle but firm, making sure you were about to bolt away to find Penelope. “Yes, sweetheart, we are. We are seeing Aunty Penelope, she’s just in her office.”

Once you reached Penelope’s office, your dad let go of your hand so you could greet her. You ran up to her desk excitedly, your tiny arms open for a hug. “Aunty ‘nelope!! I here!”

Penelope out an exaggerated gasp, leaning down to give you a big hug. “Well if it isn’t my little tech assistant! Lady Y/N!”

You giggled loudly, breaking the hug to give her a little twirl of your outfit. “Looook! I ready!”

Penelope laughed, taking a good look at your outfit. “Oh, I love it! Look at all this colour and the swirly socks! Don’t you look absolutely stunning?”

You nodded looking over Penelope’s outfit. “We matching. We stunning.”

Penelope nodded in agreement, picking you up to sit on her lap. “We absolutely are, we are the only people in this building with good style.”

You gave a firm hum of agreement, playing with Penelope’s little animal rubbers she had on her desk. “Daddy only wear suits. He boring.”

Penelope tried to hold in a snicker, knowing Aaron was right behind her. You could practically feel your dad’s frown from behind you, knowing it all too well. Well of course since you had the same one.

“It ‘kay, Daddy. You be workman.” You smiled reassuringly. You had learned after many attempts at getting your dad to wear some colour on his suits that he needed to be a professional unit chief.

Aaron nodded with a small smile, crossing his arms. “Yes, Daddy needs to work which means you get to stay with Aunty Penelope.” He looked over to Penelope, raising an eyebrow seriously. “Don’t let her see case files.”

Penelope gave Aaron a little salute in response, watching him say goodbye to you and leave her office. “Alright tech assistant, what should we do?”

You grinned and took out your sparkly pen, drawing scribbles on a piece of paper you found on Penelope’s desk. “Drawww. Sparkle. We draw BAU… fine furry friends.”

Penelope laughed, joining in with the colouring. The two of you spent the rest of the day together, making pictures, playing with random things at her desk and so on. You always had a blast with your Aunty Penelope. You may have looked exactly like your dad but you definitely expressed yourself like Penelope.

[thelov3lybookworm]

I Am Forever Yours (part 3)

Day 6: Reputation

Summary: They assumed.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1092

Warnings: snobby, jealous ladies trynna bully yn but yn is a badass 😏, i think kinda oc lucien cus he hasnt fucked around at all heheheeheheheheh

A/n: look i just find people who wait till marriage to have intimate relations to be adorable and neat 🥹

(its me im neat and my future husband better be too 🤭)

edit: if you saw me edit the last line to add in a dialogue no u didnt 😇

@lucienweekofficial

ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Y/n knew there were quite a few ladies who would kill to be in her place. After all, becoming the bride of one of the princes was no small matter. Especially when said prince was the most charming gentleman the kingdom had ever seen.

Royal and elite families, even from neighbouring kingdoms, as well as more potential brides had all been invited to the wedding. And where there was a wedding, there was a gathering of the ladies. And where there were ladies gathered, there were rumours spreading.

And Y/n found herself in such a setting the night before her wedding, and the topic of discussion, unfortunately, was her husband.

"Did you know he lives amongst the poor?"

"I cannot fathom why he would do that."

"Does he not get to spend like his brothers?"

"Poor him. I heard he might be a bastard child, and that is why he’s always left out of things."

Y/n heaved a frustrated sigh. From the past hour, she had been sitting here courtesy of her mother’s scoldings on propriety and etiquette, and if she left in the middle of the tea party after dinner it would be disrespectful. That the ladies would think marrying a prince got to her head and she thinks them beneath her.

One of the younger ladies’s giggles caught Y/n’s attention, and she turned to look at what was so funny.

"You know, there are rumours that he has fire in his veins."

High pitched giggles followed that statement, and Y/n’s cheeks burned from the implications in that statement.

Am I being too dirty minded?

But the next second, her worries were blown away by the words of an entirely too smug lady who sat closer to Y/n. "Oh, believe me, he does."

The others in their little group gasped, beginning to hound her for information.

"Did you have him in your bed?"

Y/n clenched her jaw just imagining such an erotic scene, pulse spiking.

"Oh no, I am not so fortunate. But I have surely dreamed about it and heard from others."

It gave Y/n little peace knowing that even though he might not have slept with others, people drooled over him still. She wanted to chide herself for having such thoughts, considering she had only met Lucien at that ball a month ago and was not even married yet.

But not for long, she reminded herself. The wedding would be tomorrow, and then she would have all rights to be possessive over him.

"Lady Oak, you are far too lucky. How did you even get him to agree to your proposal?"

Y/n blinked, meeting the eyes of the lady who grinned at her fiendishly. Her eyes narrowed.

Her name must be husband stealer or something.

She snorted at her own thoughts when another lady who looked younger than her piped up.

"Is it because your father is the advisor and the king forced him?"

Y/n fisted her hand, smiling sweetly. "Oh no, quite the opposite actually."

Husband-stealer laughed. "Oh, so prince Lucien asked your father for your hand? Can’t be, for he has been known to reject proposals left and right."

"Oh, did he reject your proposal too?"

Y/n leaned back in her cushioned chair, innocently gazing at husband-stealer as colour darkened her face, anger evident in every part of her body.

"That does not matter. He does not seem the type to stay with one partner forever anyways."

"You do not have to worry about his betrayals for you are not the one going to be affected by it."

Husband-stealer stood abruptly, glaring at Y/n for a moment before announcing she was going to retire to her room to her companions who did not bother to wish her back and focused on Y/n.

Another win, Y/n thought with a smirk.

"When did you meet him?"

"Last month during the ball he approached me, and when I told him to basically leave me alone, he asked for my hand in marriage. My father said yes."

"And you had no problem?"

Y/n’s smile turned genuine thinking about Lucien stalking up to her father and talking to him with his usual charm. She remembered very vividly how her father’s eyes had widened and he had stuttered through a response, his lips spreading in a grin.

"No. I had only seen him that day and I knew he would be the best suitor. Moreover, I trusted my father’s judgement."

The younger girls sighed in wonder, their eyes glazing over as they themselves imagined themself in her position.

Hiding her grin, Y/n stood, bidding them goodbye before making ehr way to her own bridal suite, anticipation building in her gut.

Tomorrow.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Lady Oak, you are far too lucky. How did you even get him to agree to your proposal?

Somehow, after a whole day had passed, after the wedding officiant had pronounced Lucien and Y/n husband and wife, after the reception and dinner party, husband-stealers’ words came back to Y/n.

Was she not right for Lucien? Had he made a mistake? Would he doubt their marriage just as the ladies had?

"Y/n?"

She turned to her new husband, who grinned at her, holding open the door to their bed chamber. She tried to smile back, but of course, even under the dim lighting of the corridor, Lucien saw it.

"Did something happen?"

Y/n paused, wondering if she should tell him what she’d heard.

"It’s just… some ladies were talking about you last night." His brows furrowed and he nodded at her to continue. "They said you would… betray me."

Understanding dawned on his eyes, and he reached out to touch Y/n’s cheek. "You do not have to worry about that. I’d rather cut my own di- private parts off than be with someone that is not my lawfully wedded wife."

Y/n blushed. How could she ever have even given thought to husband-stealer’s words? They were just that. Words.

"Thank you."

He rolled his eyes. "Do not thank me for common human decency." He paused, then- "May I kiss you?"

Y/n’s breath hitched. "I’ve never-"

"Neither have I."

Y/n’s eyes widened. "But- but they said-"

"They assumed."

Y/n closed her mouth with a snap.

"I always thought being loyal to your future partner had a certain romantic side to it. So? May I kiss you now?"

"I- yes but I do not know how to-"

He kissed her.

"I am forever yours."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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Lucien Vanserra Taglist: @mirandasidefics @tele86

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Home Away From Home 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, jealousy, mentions of loss, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki, Peter Parker (tall!reader)

Summary: You’ve been friends with the Odinsons since childhood. After years of separation, you reunite on Midgard after the destruction of Asgard, but find yourself caught between your old and new lives. 

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Peter’s abode is intriguing. You find all Midgardians have such character in their homes. Stark's is elaborate and expensive, as all things he does, and the spider-hero's being is reflected in his simple but overcrowded decor. 

He has shelves of books and little figures. You investigate them as he rustles in the kitchen. You laugh at the miniature of Thor, his proportions comical as his head is far too big for his body. It’s even more amusing to think Peter would have it all while knowing the god himself. 

“Have you read any comics?” Peter asks. 

“Comics?” You put the tiny Thor back. You wish you could show him. 

You face Peter as he sets down a large bowl of popped kernels. He stands straight and grins, “graphic novels.” He steps around the coffee table and nears you. He takes a slender book from the shelf and opens it to show you the colourful illustrations within. 

“No,” you lean in to admire the pictures. “I did read a book about a strange immortal stalking this poor girl. It was about night time, I think...” 

“You read Twilight?” He chuckles. 

“That is the one. I didn’t enjoy that,” you say. “It isn’t proper the way the Ed—Edmund? Behaved.” 

He laughs again and slides the book away. “I only saw the movies.” 

“There are moving pictures?” You tilt your head. 

“Uh, yeah, maybe we can look them up after we watch some wrestling.” 

“Yes, watch wrestling,” you echo his sentiment with a lilt. “I’m intrigued. Show me.” 

You follow him to the couch. You sit and bounce a little on the spring furniture. You press your hand to the cushion and test the structure. It should do. He sits beside you, fidgeting as the hits buttons on the small remote. 

Your eyes flick up to the screen as he shuffles through the menu. Stark loaded up a device for you with all sorts of moving pictures. You find the TV too frustrating. 

He sets the remote down as the audio blusters and the images begin to move. A deep voice narrates the sights on screen. A man in bright yellow attire postures and poses as he comes down a slanted aisle. You stare inquisitively at the square platform surrounded by ropes. 

“That’s Macho Man Randy Savage,” Peter explains. 

“Macho Man,” you nod. 

“He’s going to fight Hulk Hogan,” Peter says. 

“Hulk?” You look at him. 

“Not Bruce,” he assures. 

“Ah,” you accept and focus on the screen. 

There’s music and a crowd cheering, roaring for the two figures as they put on a show just to get into the square pen. You tilt your head as you watch, leaning forward. 

“That’s the ring,” Peter says. “That’s where they fight.” 

“Hm, interesting.” 

A man in stripes comes to hold up a belt with gold on it. It’s not the sort of thing you would wear. 

“That’s the championship. The winner gets to keep it.” 

“It is not a very nice accessory,” you tut. “In Asgard, we fight for fun or gold. Who would want that?” 

“Well... it’s about what it means. The World Championship. So... they’re the best in the world.” 

You hum and watch on. The men tangle in each other. You stifle a laugh as they begin. The way they hit each other, the way they seem to dance, and do everything so deliberately is silly. 

“It is fake,” you say. “They don’t mean to hurt each other.” 

Peter sighs, “didn’t I say so?” 

You look at him and grin, “you Midgardians do stay too quiet. You never say what you mean.” 

“Oh?” His brows furrow. 

“Yes. You play at fighting and you play at your true intent,” you insist. “You bring me here and say let us watch the wrestling show but I know what you want.” 

He gulps as his eyes widen, “you do?” 

You scoff and reach to ruffle his hair. You stand and unclasp the buckles on your shoulders. Your satin tunic falls forward and unveils your naked chest, the fabric caught up in the belt at your waist. Peter gasps. 

“How do you prefer, dor-dígull?” You reach under the satin and unknot your belt. 

He stares up at you. “I didn’t--” 

“On Asgard, it isn’t a big matter,” you shrug as you free the belt and shimmy out of your top. You step out of it, your chest swinging and drawing his attention. “I have been rather looking forward to it.” 

“You mean...” 

“Oh,” you stand up, your hands on your leggings, “have I made a mistake?” 

He blinks and his cheeks tinge red, “no, I mean, I want to but I didn’t expect...um, well... usually guys make the first move.” 

“Hm, then you make your move, dor-dígull,” you swipe down your leggings and untangle your feet from the bottom. “I will take your lead.” 

He takes a deep breath and his eyes flit up and down your body. You feel tingly and a bit eager. Is it normal for Midgardian men to be so skittish about it all. 

He gets up and strips off his shirt. His chest is thickly muscled, his stomach too. He might be short but he is well-built. He undoes his denim pants and pushes them down, nearly tripping as he fights to get them off. 

You look around and eye the space, “on the sofa?” You wonder. 

“Ummmm,” he drones as he continues to strip. “I guess...” 

“Mm,” you hum and examine the cushions. 

“Unless, er, there’s the bed--” 

“You Midgardians are too slow,” you grab him and turn him, pushing him down to sit on the couch. He tries to cover his bobbing cock as he falls onto it. You tut and swat his hand away. “Let me show you how to do it right.” You snake your hand down between your legs and feel between your folds, “I’m ready.” 

“Uh, okay,” he flattens his hands on the cushions as he gapes up at you. You grasp his shoulders and bring yourself to straddle his lap. 

You grip his member and stroke it as you hover just above it. Your press his tip along your wet folds and tease him. Your hold on him is firm. He throbs and groans at your touch. 

“Mm,” you pause at his erratic shaking. “This is not the first time?” 

“N-no,” he stutters, his cheeks lighting up even more. 

You laugh, “then it will be the best.” 

You push his tip against you and slowly descend onto it. As you sheath him in your aching warmth, he sighs and pushes his head back. He trembles as you take him to his limit. You take his hands and guide them to your hips and begin to rock. 

“This is the better sort of wrestling,” you jape and move his hands up to your chest. 

[maracujatangerine]

Hi I'm thinking a normal amount about Absalom today! Snooty Good PetTM who still (at least in Brutus' nightmares) moves to shield the others. Could we maybe hear a little about him and Brutus interacting (do they get to interact??) or how they first met or their first impressions of each other or. Anything like that? I love they and your writing is always tasty. -@secretwhumplair

86. Introducing Pets

CW: institutionalised slavery, dehumanisation, box boy universe, pet whump

”Do you really want to put them together, love? I mean, Brutus can be a bit high-spirited, and he is quite a lot stronger than your pet.” Wayland Jones shook his head. “I don’t want anything to happen.”

“Ah, don’t worry so much, dear. That nice WRU consultant did recommend for them to get some alone time together to suss each other out. And…” Cecilia twirled around gracefully, making her red skirt swirl out around her. Playfully, she put her hands on his shoulders, reaching up to give him a light peck on the cheek. “… since we are going to live together now…” She beamed, and turned to continue onwards down the corridor. “…we can’t really keep them apart for ever. Besides, we’ll just give them a few minutes, how bad can it get?”

“Let’s try it. I left Brutus in the hallway.”

“And Absalom is in the bedroom. I’ll go and get him.” She went eagerly, heels clacking against the floor.

Brutus and Wayland arrived first. The black-haired guard dog obediently went to kneel on the floor next to the unlit fireplace. His casual attire of dark grey sweatpants and t-shirt matched in colour, but clashed in tone, with Wayland’s dark grey suit and white shirt.

“I really want this to work, so make sure that you don’t mess it up for me.” Wayland’s hash tone made Brutus flinch. “She likes her pet, so be sure that you are nice to it. Understood?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good. In fact, I count on you to keep an eye on Absalom. Romantics are smart enough to get in all sorts of trouble, but stupid enough to not get out of it again.”

“Yes, Master.”

Soon, the door swung open and Cecilia entered, Absalom half a step behind. At his mistress order, the pet knelt on the other side of the fireplace. He was elegantly dressed in a light blue vest over a white shirt, matching blue trousers, and his wavy, brown hair tied at the nape of his neck with a brighter blue ribbon. His collar was soft, grey leather, in sharp contrast to the black, synthetic material around the guard dog’s neck.

“Absalom, this is Brutus.” Cecilia said, grinning at the formality of introducing the pets to one another. “Brutus, this is Absalom. We want you to get to know each other better, so we’ll give you a few moments to talk.”

Both Cecilia and Wayland went towards the door.

“Have fun, pets.” She smiled. Wayland caught Brutus’ eye and mouthed; ‘Behave’.

As the door fell shut behind them, both pets stared awkwardly at each other for a moment.

Then, Absalom rose gracefully to his feet. The small scar on his upper lip emphasised by his sneer.

“Well, well… look what the cat dragged in….” In an undertone he added. “Though of course it would have to have been a fairly large and weight-bearing cat.”

He danced quickly backwards when Brutus also came to his feet. “That was a bit of a joke.” The pet said quickly, blue eyes wide. Finding himself, he tilted his head and tried a winsome smile. “I’m not usually meeting guard dogs. You are very imposing close by, darling.”

Standing face to face, they were almost the same height, but Brutus’ muscular heft compared with Absalom’s lithe build made the guard dog probably twice as heavy. They watched each other warily. Then, Brutus broke the silence with a shrug and a smile.

“I’m not used to your sort either.” He admitted, and scratched his head. “Actually, Tte last time I saw a romantic was when we got an old one as bait. He was just running around like a headless chicken and Jazz almost crushed his head when he knocked him out.” He chuckled. “It was actually quite funny… he…” Brutus looked up and finally seemed to register that Absalom’s somewhat condescending smile had frozen and turned into something more resembling a rictus grin. “Eh… He was all right, though… or at least he survived.” He swallowed, and tried again. “I wouldn’t do that to you, though. My Master has told me to be nice with you.”

“Okay then.” Absalom went for a forced, chipper tone. “We’re going to live together, we need to get along.”

Brutus nodded and held out his hand. “Truce?” Absalom studied his face for a moment, hesitating. Intensely blue eyes searching dark brown.

Then, carefully, he reached out his thin, carefully manicured hand, and clasped the the guard dogs darker, larger hand in his own.

“Truce.”

*

Everything feels a bit dark and scary in the world at the moment. Especially when things feels like they are going the wrong way, I think it is really important to involve yourself with actually trying to improve things, preferably together with other people in the world out there.

It is, however, also important to keep your own spirits up, so I took this advice, and decided to make something today. I have been twisting and turning this wonderful ask by @secretwhumplair in my mind for a while, and it finally clicked together in a way I’m happy with. I was also inspired by this ask. Thank you so much for the ask, @secretwhumplair, I hope you’ll enjoy Brutus and Absalom’s first meeting! ❤️

*

Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @whumpzone @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards-blog @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning

[zesmoon]

Okay I do not have the energy to write an imagine on this just yet.. maybe a bit later, but for now, have this brain vomit..

Sylus finding out that you like cats, so you both start rescuing cats together..

EDIT: I DID NOT INTEND TO WRITE THIS EXACTLY AS THE CAT BUTLER MEMORIES WERE ANNOUNCED WHAT A COINCIDENCE!

Like HIS HOUSE IS HUGE and mans is rich, you know for well if you were living with him you wouldn't have to work, he probably wouldn't let you either way

So he's happy to basically turn his house into a big cat foster/rescue home when you ask him

He mostly does it at first just so you have some company when he's busy and the twins aren't home - but one cat turns into 5 cats, turns into 10 cats...

And he LOVES them cats with all his heart - they also love him, if he lays down, 2 minutes later a whole bunch of cats are laying on him and purring from his body warmth

He would 100% build one of those wall fixed cat trees for them, keeping it on theme of course

You know those tiktok accounts where they have massive pantries for their cats? He would 100% ensure it's fully stocked with the best quality foods - even if you insist you guys don't need that much

Imagine you guys get a light coloured cat, who is obsessed with Sylus - sleeps on him, on his clothes.. poor man will be covered in cat hair

When he's out for a long time, they meow like crazy before he's even come through the door, they are obsessed with him 🥹

Imagine y'all get to save a group of kittens one day RAHHH imagine Sylus' big hands w a small lil kitten resting in them 😭😭

Luke and Kieran have to deal with becoming personal scratching posts too

[sideysvault]

*ੈ✩‧₊ Mundane Intervention *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Pairing: Michael Gavey x fem!reader

wc: 1,200k

Tags: [sfw] Mature themes, strong language, one use of the r slur, bullying, tension and a fluffy ending

────────

The cathedral city looked as solemn as usual. The yellow stones shined in contrast against the pale green of the grass. Its baroque interior inspired respect in you, a bubbling sensation of awe. Even still, after all this time. The conversation your friends were having felt borderline sacrilegious. And it did scandalize you, to say the least. But then again, rich people’s brains seemed to be wired differently, that was another thing that you still couldn’t get used to. But it was the only group that had taken you in so far. The library engulfed the group, and the lame conversation that was being held was cushioned and absorbed by the old books.

“He’s like, a total retard”

Your body instinctively tenses upon hearing the term. The bad taste left from your childhood flooded every pore on your skin. You tried to concentrate on something else.

The weather constantly changed to sunny intervals by lunchtime. But you were sure that it would rain tonight. You could feel the humidity in the air, and the tense breeze.

“A mate of mine told me he goes around screaming at people to ask him sums”

A snort came out of someone’s mouth.

“What a pathetic party favor”

They were getting increasingly louder, and they seemed to pay no mind to the scattered students that surrounded us, trying to study, getting annoyed. In an effort to calm things down, you quietly ask “Who are you talking about?”

But you already had a fairly decent idea of who they were mocking.

“That Michael guy”

You frown and nod dismissively. Suddenly, your clothes were all the wrong fabric, with all the wrong texture. Shifting in your seat, trying to breathe in and out, in and out. People have called you those names your entire life, especially when you were younger. Just because you were starting to get the hang of social interaction at college, starting to be pretty, knowing how to take care of yourself, that did not erase everything that had happened to you.

You had only seen Michael twice before. He was quite handsome, and sure, he seemed weird. But as far as you knew, he had no friends, no money, and Oliver had ditched him for Felix a long time ago. That made you more similar to him than to anyone sitting across from you.

Still fearing being alienated and left alone and far away from home, even if it meant being away from vapid people who were there by pure chance and lineage, a strange comment that should’ve been a legitimate defense left your mouth

“Actually, I think he’s super hot.”

Your comment was the match that lit up the entire conversation again. A loud laughter came out in sync.

“Do you have some kind of freak fetish or something?”

Sighing and laughing along, you decided to dismissively collect your defeat and let the situation go. Embarrassed, and with your cheek burning. What else could you do?

────────

You were right. The grass felt humid and the dirt was rich and aromatic. You quickly stumbled your way into the house, not wanting to ruin the pretty scenery with your puke. Desperation pounded your heart, and all you needed was a break. Somewhere to puke and rest for a while. Things went south at some point in the night. The evening turned from excitement for being invited to feeling stupid for letting yourself get wrapped around stupid games and ending up drunk, and it had ended with you feeling irreparably lonely, because you really had no one to hold your hair while you got better, no one to talk and share a moment in the midst of all the rapid coloured madness of Halloween.

You missed your small town, you missed your old friends, you missed being at home, at peace.

An open door finally turned to be a bathroom, and without thought, you ran to open the lit of the toilet and sober up.

“I was here before”

It startled you. That voice. Angry and petty, and completely unaware that you obviously needed to use the restroom with urgency. You turned to the person, who was hiding behind the curtain of the bathtub. You opened them, reinvigorated and with a new clear head. What the actual fuck? It was Michael.

He was wearing an awkwardly thick sweater, crimson red and a yellow collar. Michael was wearing his glasses, and when he saw you standing up before him, his eyes immediately trailed down towards your exposed breasts, your stomach, and your legs. You frowned. It was a party, and now he was making you feel concious for choosing an appropriately revealing outfit. It wasn’t your fault if he was dressed like he was on his way attend a lecture

“Jesus, you really are a fucking asshole aren’t you?”

A smirk adorned his face, as he spat back “But you are into that, right? Freaks?”

Your heart dropped. He had heard the conversation at the library. You suddenly did not feel so confrontational. Embarrassed and slightly annoyed, you dropped your back against the wall and slowly sat on the floor.

“What are you doing here anyway?”

His body crisped, and his cocky was nowhere to be found. “It’s not like it was invite only”

Michael was being pathetically defensive about the topic, while you were only trying to make small talk. But you let it pass, because after what he had heard, he clearly thought you were making fun of him. As if you’d police who gets inside a party on a house whose host you didn’t even know.

“That’s not what I meant. Sorry.”

The awkward silence continued. And the angry look on his face did not disappear with your attempts to make amends. You tried again.

“You are not having fun?”

He slowly shakes his head no and lowers his gaze. Something had clearly happened to this guy. And by the way everyone talked about him, you weren’t surprised.

“Yeah, me neither”

Michael seems to relax a bit, finally dropping the defense. He quickly gets up from the bathtub and walks towards the sink.

“Clean your mouth. Or it’ll stink”

You laugh at his abruptness, but he was right. You do as he says, and when you lower down to drink some water from the sink, he shakily takes your hair for you to not get it wet. This consideration makes your heart drop yet again, because that was exactly what you needed, some nice gesture, and it had surprisingly came from him, even after you did not have the courage of the wit to defend him. A small smile lights up your face and while you turn to face him, you make sure to leave a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, I needed that”

The brownish red you were wearing stained his face, which seemed to match with the new brightness of his gaze, and the pink blush that marked his face.

“I really wasn’t making fun of you back there. I meant what I say”

You gave him your name, and he finally properly introduced himself to you. You both smiled at one another. For the first time since you’d been together in the bathroom, he seemed truly comfortable. You weren’t one of those vapid cunts after all. And he wasn’t one either.

[liquidorcard]

Eyyy, well look at that. I call Lily somewhere in between being a neoliberal and classic conservative, and she proves me exactly right but not a day later. That was nice of her. Thanks, Lorch.

Because emotions are high right now, I want to very much stress that, yeah-- the American election was between the Dems being their typical shiteating selves and the Republicans reaching their final form as explicit, out-and-out facists. Uh, clearly those weren't two equally valid choices-- even compared to last time Trump won, where he at least put effort into appearing more as a moderate.

But let's be frank here, the nature of the capitalist hellscape the west currently exists in means that more than ever, people are desperate to be thrown a bone when it comes to the economy. And because in the west we also have piss poor econ comprehension and can barely recognize a Pyramid scheme on the small scale, let alone the nationwide one we currently have, people have been conditioned to vote red when they're struggling financially-- despite Republicans routine history of making the economy worse.

In addition to that, devastatingly large amounts of the voting population is too mentally exhausted to actually keep up with politics, if not vote at all. Why Reps win when they do can't be boiled down to a single primary factor-- but they do remarkably better the less people actually go out and vote. That's why Reps put so much time and effort into voter suppression-- and what probably really won Biden the election last time was how accessible voting was made because of covid.

Similar factors at play here in Canada, but, just speaking on the specifics of the American system here in particular.

Anyone with any degree of meaningful knowledge of history knows-- though not an absolute rule-- facist rhetoric tends to get it's big break in the wake of economic hardship and extreme financial inequality. Yes, the Biden administration did a lot to improve the economy. Yes, a lot of the economic hardship was a direct result of the first Trump term-- but there's just not enough economic and political literacy in the west to have that understood.

People tend to focus on the true MAGA voters here-- and though they are a significant portion of Trump's success in the 2024 election, don't get me wrong; the reality is, the swing demo here was likely a lot of people who were tired and frustrated, saw the orange man be big strong tough bullish leader man, and made their choice out of ignorance and ideas popagandized to them from birth about how the political system works. Or just couldn't be fucked to vote at all out of a sense of doom. As someone who wholly believes in democracy I want to steer away from the idea the population is just too dumb to vote responsibly. They're not. But western democracy has been eroded away by decades of upon decades of small obfuscation that adds up over time to a death by a thousand cuts.

Of course though, Lily so wholly believes in the system, is so profoundly fucking ready to make an appeal to the meritocracy of the western Democratic system as it currently is-- nah. Can't be the system is broken. Can't be that we are in need of radical reform.

I know there's some debate there as to whether or not the Dems' passive support for the Palestinian genocide really costed them the election or not. I personally think it did-- but not that they would have nessesarily won by a sweeping success otherwise. Of course, there are a million other factors that likely added up. To some extent (though it's debatable to how much) Kamala is a woman of colour. She was already heavily associated with the Biden administration and already technically in power. That disastrous first debate with Biden probably did a profound amount of damage out of the gate.

But she did ALSO run on an anti-immigrant position (just a more moderate one.) She also didn't do enough to distinguish herself from the Biden administration-- and she might have not have been able to. She changed her stance on fracking. She didn't do enough to outline (even just as a lie) about how she was going to simulate the economy from the bottom-up position. And though her campaign engaged in some of the smack-talk dunking on the Reps' ridiculous wedge issue bullshitting near the beginning, they very stupidly didn't keep up that energy for some absolutely godforsaken reason even though it was what was carrying her momentum at one point more than anything else. Despite myself never really fucking trusting politicians, I actually really liked Waltz. They fucking leashed him almost immediately in an absolutely braindead move.

And once again, here's fucking Lily being Queen Ghoul over here saying Harris was campaigning on a platform of "harm reduction" over a fucking GENOCIDE. Holy shitballs Lily. That's quite the take, EVEN FOR YOU. You could have blamed Biden. You would have been wrong, but. Antisemitism is unfortunately still pretty acceptable in the left, and people generally don't get the difference between Israel's government and its citizens-- or jewish people as a whole. You've been comfortable being antisemitic in the past, your fanbase is already primed for it. I'd prefer you not being the fucking bigot you are at all Lily, but like, at least that would have been your average level of awful. NOT MAKING EXCUSES FOR COMPLIANCE WITH GENOCIDE. The fuck is wrong with you!?

Also, there's no way to transition into this but, I gotta point this out: Yes Lily is being her usual profoundly unselfaware self as per fucking usual-- even though I don't think every person who voted republican is inherently a monster, her own fucking beloved brother ABSOLUTELY IS.

We actually agree on that point, Lily. Cameron and people like him need to be shot into the fucking sun.

[thatneoncrisis]

oh ur tlt characters of colour post is very good. i do have some thoughts, especially as a maori woman who is still living in aotearoa. and rlly like if we didn’t have the nona art, i’d say that there’s so many mixed maori people. i know so many “white” maoris, that it’s who you are, not what you look like (insert the cup of tea metaphor). having said that, i wouldn’t be shocked if harrow being a necromancer is why she’s such a. grey colour. but really i merely wouldn’t take the covers at their art (see rf kuang’s recent ‘i didn’t have the courage to say no about my cover art’). the one thing i wish i could say to fan artists however is stop drawing harrow and gideon like they’re black. we have such different facial features to ppl of african descent. holy fuck. embrace round shapes and softness. embrace warm shaded skin tones and look at actual maori actors (this isn’t specific to you. just this has become me complaining now). i much prefer seeing darker g+h but the amount of like. the person who is drawing harrowhark has never seen anyone maori is unreal (yes, i know a maori and black person can exist, and they do— but statistically, unlikely, considering how heavily polynesian these books are).

however to stress again. not abt ur tlt art. i think it’s super cute. ur nona is adorable.

im gonna post this without much commentary bc youre more of an authority on this than me. i Will make the side comment that when i read tazs comment about harrow and gideon being mixed maori i specifically thought of harrow as maori and indian which is why i draw her and nona with darker skin. when people here mixed they just kind of default to half white and i think thats kinda dumb but its whatever. and obviously it doesnt matter if youre white passing youre still maori, but just going off the text it feels weird how like. tentative taz is about just Saying that they are brown

and yeah in general id say in a lot of fan spaces people will hear a character has dark skin and default to just drawing a black person, it happens with jeannemary, the second and g1deon/pyrrha a lot pertaining to these books but like. we look different! someone whos tongan or samoan doesnt look black! there are differences you can make more substantial in the way you draw their eyes and brows and the color of their lips and skintone.

and actually i got some of my nona art reposted on reddit and one of the comments launching this big argument was "why did op make her african" and it really bugged me. not all africans are black, not all dark skinned people are black, not all black people are darkskinned, you Only said that bc i made her dark brown its so stupid

but ultimately this is only advice someone will take to heart if they Want to learn so its like whatever

[lovegalor333]

fresh start

part one (chapters 1-3) story info • next part

word count: 6.1k

content warnings: mentions of homophobia and depression

Lily

Transferring to University of Connecticut in my junior year was my final lifeline.

No one has actually verbalised that but it was an unspoken understanding.

Everyone in my life, back home in Boston knew that coming to UConn was a fresh start for me and a second opportunity at life.

I started my college career at UMass in my home state of Massachusetts. Going to college was just another thing on my list to tick off to pacify my family. Unlike my high school peers, I never aspired to go to college, in fact I didn't think I'd be alive by the time it came around.

"You must be Lily!" A sweet voice pulled me from my inner monologue as I stood in my new bedroom, boxes surrounding me.

"Yes!" I spun around to see a brown haired, brown eyed girl stood in my doorway. I flashed her my biggest, bravest smile.

Fake it till you make it.

"I'm Kelsey." She introduced herself coming closer.

Being a junior, I opted to live in an apartment for my time here at UConn. Four people, four bedrooms. That way I had my own space but still the option to mingle in our shared living room and kitchen. I knew I was sharing with three other girls as there was a paper with all our names listed on the table when I entered the apartment a few hours ago.

Kelsey

Madison

Hannah

and me, Lily.

"Nice to meet you." I say and Kelsey hugs me tight, its a warm hug and I can tell its not just a pleasantry, Kelsey feels kind and that relaxes me immediately.

"Looks like we're the first to arrive, how long have you been here?" She asks looking around at the numerous open boxes with my possessions spilling out of them.

"A few hours - how about you?" I bounce the question back to my new roommate.

"Oh I got here last night. Just took a walk around to familiarise myself. I lived on the complete other-side of campus last year but wanted to upgrade for my junior and senior year." She explained.

"I expect a tour at some point then." I joke but Kelsey nods enthusiastically, "Of course! Did you live off campus last year?"

"No. Well, yes - I lived in a whole different state. I just transferred from UMass." I tell her.

I decide to keep my explanation of why I transferred clean and concise.

Massachusetts was not for me.

I was born and raised there and needed something new. I'm not ashamed of my life and what has happened, I'm just very aware that not everyone needs to know everything about me.

Not yet anyway.

And besides, this is supposed to be a fresh start and how can there be any truth in that if I spend my time talking about the past.

Kelsey stayed in my room for the next few hours and helped me unpack the majority of my stuff. Things were starting to look normal rather than like a bomb had just exploded, I was thankful for the help.

I learned a lot about Kelsey in the time we spent filling my wardrobe and organising my dresser. She was studying Education as she wanted to be a preschool teacher. She was also from New England - New Hampshire to be precise (East Coast girlies unite). She was a party girl and insisted on showing me the bars near-by. She was newly single and was making it her junior year goal to stay that way.

Me too. But I didn't mention that.

Her favourite colour was red which looking at her now, was obvious. She sported a red baby tee and had her nails painted the exact same shade. She couldn't function without a morning coffee.

Me too. I did mention that.

I liked Kelsey a lot.

"So Kinesiology..." She started mentioning my choice of major.

"Yes - it was kind of a last minute decision. I love sport, especially soccer and I knew I needed to study something that I could relate to a hobby or I would have lost interest." I laughed.

"Do you play soccer?" I shook my head immediately, "God no. I have absolutely no athletic ability I just love watching it." I say as we sit on my bed side by side, backs against the wall.

Watching soccer, whether it be on TV or in real life was the only time my brain truly shut off. I was too focused on where the ball was, who it was being passed to, how well the pass was being executed and if the net would ripple at the end of a well thought out play to focus on anything else.

"I suppose ninety minutes of tight kits and sweaty bodies isn't a bad view." Kelsey giggled and I couldn't argue.

"Do you watch or play any sports?" I turn my body to Kelsey slightly giving her my attention, I preferred talking about others.

"Definitely don't play. As for watching, I make myself present if theres a big tournament on, usually at the bar mind you." She points a finger at me matter of factly.

"But enough about me. I feel like I've told you my life story and all I know about you is you're a Bostonian who loves soccer. Tell me something fun! Are you dating anyone? What's your type?" She asks eyebrows wiggling at me.

I contemplate my answer carefully not knowing how to broach the subject. Kelsey makes me feel like I can trust her but in reality I've known her less than 12 hours so don't actually know her. I remind myself why I'm here: to start afresh. I decide to be honest, I spent way too long hiding who I really was.

"I'm not dating anyone." I confess, the words feeling foreign even though its the truth. "My last relationship didn't end so well. In fact, it almost ended me." I quip making light of a not so light time in my life not so long ago. "Oh no, I'm sorry Lily. I'll kill the guy if I ever meet him." She says seriously, hands balled into fist as if she's a boxer preparing to go into the ring.

Here goes nothing.

"The girl." I say correcting her. "You'll kill the girl if you ever meet her." I stay silent trying to read Kelseys reaction to the fact that I'm gay. Living in America you never know what to expect when you reveal something like that, I just hoped mine and Kelseys newfound friendship wasn't about to come to a premature end.

"I have no problem beating a bitch up." The brunette says flicking her hair off her shoulder. I breathe a sigh of relief, the revelation doesn't seem to have bothered her in the slightest. "My sisters lesbian and I've heard enough stories to know girls are just as bad a guys. Maybe you should join the sisterhood of single juniors." She says, raising an eyebrow putting her hand between us for me to place mine on top and join the unofficial club. I hesitate because deep down I'm a lover girl and despite my heart being in a million pieces right now I know I want to love again.

"Hey, there's no contract. You can leave at anytime and theres no rules that say we can't have fun." Kelsey playfully reassures sensing my hesitation so I place my hand on top of hers, "Single sisters!" We both giggle, Kelsey leaning her body into mine so our shoulders are touching.

This feels like the perfect start to my life in Connecticut.

I left Boston broken. Brokenhearted and mentally in pieces.

My once big friendship group had dwindled down to one best friend. My ever growing confidence had come to a halt and years of therapy was thrown down the drain.

My Sophomore year was turbulent at best, coming to terms with my sexuality was a journey and then being outed was crushing and too much for me to handle. Managing my emotions has always been a problem of mine, I feel everything or I feel nothing. Both ends of the spectrum can be scary and dangerous and I did stupid things and made an almost irreversible decision.

UConn and Kelsey feels like the light at the end of the tunnel.

Madison and Hannah showed up at some point that evening. The girls had been roommates their Freshman and Sophomore year so already knew each other well. Kelsey and I introduced ourselves and we decided as a group, pizza for dinner was the best way to spend our first night together. We spoke and ate in the living area of our apartment until tiredness took over us one by one.

As I lay in my new bed in my new room I think of the days and weeks to come. I want to start off the best I can, give myself the best opportunity to love life again. Starting tomorrow, my goal was to find a student job on campus. Classes would take up most of my time but I needed pretty much all of my time filled, that way my mind wouldn't stray. I also wanted to scope out the sports. UConn was known for their amazing athletics program and I couldn't wait to be watching games again.

Oh and of course Kelsey wants to go to a bar tomorrow night, Hannah and Madison too so I close my eyes preparing for a busy day ahead, the melatonin I'd taken kicking in.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

My first day in Storrs as a student at UConn was going better than expected.

Kelsey had showed me her favourite coffee place and it had lived up to her hype. I got my usual order of an iced caramel latte with soya milk. I had unintentionally made myself lactose intolerant after being vegan for a few years. I was no longer vegan but dairy refused to be introduced back into my diet. While we sipped our drinks she gave me the grand tour of campus and then Downtown Storrs. It reminded me a lot of Boston which was bittersweet but I focused on the sweet.

"And that," She says pointing to one of the buildings with a huge Huskies sign, "is the infamous Huskies! The best bar around...well, the only bar around but never-mind. That's where we're going tonight." My roommate tells me and does a little dance which makes me laugh.

We finished our coffees on the walk back to campus and Kelsey dropped me off at the Athletics building where I was going to enquire about a student job. I had checked online and there were a few available, I just had to apply. I figured showing my face would make me stand out compared to the many applicants I'm sure admissions would have to choose from. It also gave me an opportunity to check the team rosters and schedule. I became friends with a lot of the student athletes at UMass because I went to so many games, it made me wonder if that would be the case here at UConn.

Walking into the building, it was obvious there was a gym inside I could hear what I assumed to be people working out. Music blasted through speakers though it was muffled by the closed doors and the clanging of weights dropping further verified my assumption.

The doors were closed as I walked passed what I now know is the weight room from the sign outside. My curiosity tempted me to peek inside the room as I heard a cacophony of voices, girls voices for sure.

I was stopped in my tracks, "Hi, can I help you?" The voice came from an older woman, I looked to her and smiled, "Yes please. I'm looking for the main office, here to enquire about a student job this semester." I explained.

"Oh wonderful - follow me, I'm Janet. Head of admissions for the Athletic Department."

I followed Janet down a few corridors and up a set of stairs before reaching the office. The walls along the way all adorned with various UConn teams holding trophies and medals covered in confetti. It was clear they were no strangers to winning here.

"So we have a few positions on offer is semester. I suppose it depends on what kind of role you're looking for." Janet says sitting behind her desk and inviting me to sit facing her.

"I'm studying Kinesiology so I'm just grateful to have the opportunity to work within the Athletics department at all. I'd be happy with anything." I say and truly mean it.

"What is your schedule like?" Janet asks.

"My classes are most days until 4 or 5pm. Wednesday's are completely free as are evenings and weekends." I tell her.

"Hm OK, we have a position here for a Communications Intern. You'll be assisting with post and pre game press conferences and social media posts. You'll be at most home games on the sidelines, taking notes for our journalists to write in articles and pictures to post on our socials - nothing professional of course, we have photographers for that but the fans like to see some behind the scenes on game days." Janet reads off her screen before looking up at me with a raised brow, "How does that sound?"

"That sounds great!" I replied enthusiastically, "As a fan of sports myself, hopefully I can show game days from a new angle."

"Amazing! Our womens teams are gaining a lot more traction, not just on campus so I'm positive fans who can't make it to games in person will be grateful." Janet smiles, typing a few words then standing from her desk. "I've put your name down - at the top of the list in bold - it's always nice when applicants come and see us face to face." I smile to myself knowing that would be the case.

"Thank you for making time to see me." I say to Janet, shaking her extended hand before she leads me out of the office. "My pleasure."

Outside of Janets office is a huge ceiling to floor window with a perfect overview of the gym below. I was correct earlier, there are people working out and it is girls. I stop momentarily to take in the view below me, my mind automatically goes to my major and I wonder what paths these girls are on. Are any of them injured or coming back from injury? I'm immediately intrigued as I watch them perform different exercises.

"Those are our basketball girls." Janet breaks my daydream. "I suspect you'll be working with them a lot this semester."

I turn to her my eyes slightly widened, does that mean I've secured the job?

"If your application is successful of course." She smirks but its a knowing smirk that puts me at ease.

"Oh, and thats Kayla." She points out a specific girl in the gym, dressed differently from the others and considerably shorter so I immediately assume she's not on the team. "She works here in the main office with me. She's a great girl to know, I'll introduce you."

I follow Janet back down the stairs and through the same corridors we took less than thirty minutes ago. This time I take more care as I look at the pictures on the walls, the basketball team seem to take up the majority. I spot names like Sue Bird and Diana Taurasi which I am familiar with but not too much, in all honesty I've never watched a full game of basketball in my life. As we get closer to the end of the corridor where the pictures get more recent I notice one girl in particular, a blonde, she seems to always be in the middle of group photos, her teammates looking at her with admiration. Her smile contagious, making me smile as if I'm in the picture myself.

"Prepare yourself." Janet laughs as we approach the weight room door. "What for?" I ask now not so curious about going inside as I was earlier. "They're a lively lot." Is all she says before pushing open the door.

I take a sharp inhale, anxiety creeping in as I follow Janet into the room of athletes.

Every single one of my senses was hit walking into the weight room. The noises that were once muffled by the closed doors were now loud and clear. The room was significantly colder than the rest of the building for obvious reasons but I wrapped my arms around myself nonetheless. Thanks to my deep inhale on walking in, I was only now getting a waft of what smelt like a mix of sweat and fruit. I say a silent prayer that its the girls in here because I know for a fact it would be sweat mixed with more sweat if it was the boys. My eyes scanned the room quickly taking in what I just seen from above. I recognised some of the girls from the photos on the walls, not the blonde though. She wasn't here. Maybe she was a senior and had graduated already, a shame if that is the case.

"Hello ladies." Janet calls over the booming music. One by one the girls turn their attention to us and smile or wave and I return the pleasantries.

"A new commit?" I hear a voice behind me ask before feeling a hand press down on each of my shoulders. I unconsciously tense at the surprise contact.

"No, no. This is Lily - a junior here. She just applied for a job in the department so I'm showing her around." Janet explains and the girl that just had her hands on my shoulders walks in front of me revealing herself.

"Oh damn my bad, I got excited for a second." She laughed a little embarrassed, "I'm KK, nice to meet you." The girl introduced herself.

"Nice to meet you, KK." I smile at the basketball player and she goes to join the rest of girls who are now teasing her for basically jumping on my back. I didn't mind, it just caught me off guard. Besides, I'd rather these girls be overly friendly than cold and moody especially if I'll be working with them soon.

"I'm Paige." A slender hand extends itself to me, coming from the same direction KK came from. I take the hand in mine before looking to see who exactly 'Paige' was. "Hi-" my words get lodged in my throat.

There she was.

The girl from the photos. The blonde with the contagious smile and, I'm now realising, extremely blue eyes like the bluest eyes I've ever seen.

I compose myself quickly, "Hi Paige, I'm Lily." I manage without stuttering as I shake the girls hand before letting go, somewhat reluctantly.

Her hand was bigger than mine and it was warm pressed against my palm, my hand tingled where her touch just was.

"What's your major?" She asks and she seems genuinely interested.

"Kinesiology." I reply, turning my full attention to Paige, my back now to Janet.

"Interesting! You'll get along perfect here, lots of bad knees." She says lifting her leg showing off a nasty scar before tapping me on the shoulder and joining KK and the others.

"Lily hasn't got the job yet, Paige." Janet called after the girl who turned around, "You know what to do Jan!" She called back with a grin.

The girls giggled as she joined them and she playfully shoved one of them away. I couldn't hear their hushed words over the music but the way Paige glanced back at me, making direct eye contact, made me think it was about me or maybe I was just delusional hoping the pretty girl was in fact talking about me. I quickly averted my gaze.

The type of scar and placement on Paige's knee made me assume she had suffered an ACL tear. Tough, if I was correct. ACLs are a horrible injury to face but I can tell by the way she squats with a barbell rested on her shoulders, her form perfect, posture just right that it was healed. Suddenly my gaze was no longer diverted and I was just staring.

Janet introduced me to Kayla and we spoke for a few minutes, mainly about Kayla's role and how excited she would be if I joined the team as, and I quote, "The Athletics Department needed more girls behind the scenes."

We left the weight room together, Janet bidding us farewell at the door and Kayla and I walking to the exit of the building side by side.

"Welcome to UConn, by the way. I'm guessing you transferred here? I haven't seen you around before." Kayla says to me.

"Thank you! Yes, I just transferred from Massachusetts. So far, so good." I smile as we step outside into the warm August weather.

"It really is great here. Give me your number and we'll meet up, I know you just met Paige and KK but I'll introduce you to the others as well." She says pulling her phone from her back pocket and handing it to me.

I type my number in her phone saving my contact as Lily Kent - my full name. "That will be fun, thank you. I only know my roommates at the moment so I appreciate it." I hand Kayla back her phone.

"Thats the perks of working in sports, you make whole teams of friends." She says proudly.

"I need as many as I can get, it's kinda scary being the new girl. Maybe I'll meet some more tonight, we're going to a bar." I tell my, hopefully, new friend.

"Not the famous Huskies?" Kayla asks sending me a quizzical look. "Yes! The famous Huskies." I laugh, seems like this place has quite the reputation. "Perfect! We'll see you there then."

"We'll"? We all? As in possibly Paige? Suddenly I need to go back to the apartment take an everything shower, beat the hell out of my face and put together the best outfit I own.

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I wrapped myself in my robe and stepped out of the bathroom. All three of my roommates were in the living area of our apartment. "Hey guys!" I chirped, strolling into my room.

"Hey Lils, what are you wearing tonight?" Hannah asked following me into my bedroom. I looked back at her and we both glanced around my room and laughed.

Before taking a shower I attempted to choose an outfit which had resulted in me tearing my wardrobe apart, clothes now covering the majority of my bed and floor.

"Ok girl, never fear - Hannah is here." Hannah reassured sitting slap bang in the middle of the floor reaching for random items of clothing. "It's definitely a casual vibe but also our first night out. Not all students are back on campus yet but the athletes are so arguably thats even more of a reason to look good." She side eyed me from her place on the floor.

Could Hannah read my mind?

I hadn't mentioned my interaction or reaction to Paige to any of my roommates yet. Mainly because I had made a pact with Kelsey to stay single - not that Paige was in anyway trying to make me her girlfriend but also because I knew we'd probably see her tonight and three tipsy girls around their friends crush well, it wouldn't stay a secret lets just say that.

I also deep down knew that it was probably way too soon for me to even be thinking about another relationship but I can admire from afar right?

I was with my ex-girlfriend for almost two years before it finally ended in May, three months ago. 21 out of the 22 months we dated, we kept our relationship a secret from pretty much everyone. My best friend, Emma knew but that was it. That was the way we both wanted it, neither of us were out and we enjoyed sneaking around and having a genuinely private, private life.

That was until April when I accidentally left my phone in the library and it was found by someone who I thought was my friend. I stupidly had a picture of me and my girlfriend kissing as my lock screen. My phone was returned to me and everyone acted normal, I thought they hadn't noticed. Until that night, a picture of my lock screen was posted into our group chat and all hell broke loose. I felt physically sick at the words used to describe me and my girlfriend.

I was told I was sick, I needed help, I needed to find God and repent. I was told I was better off dead. It all very quickly became too much and I removed myself from the group chat and hoped to avoid the girls that were a part of it.

Unfortunately, there was no avoiding one another when your families knew each other. My girlfriend and I were promptly outed to all of our friends and families against our wishes. It put a lot of pressure on us. I was lucky to have kept a best friend in Emma. She stood by my side when nobody else did. My family were understanding, confused for a while but they came round and accepted me for who I am.

My girlfriend wasn't as lucky and that is what ultimately broke us apart. I don't blame her, she chose a relationship with her family and not being disowned over me. I can't blame her.

I blamed myself though. Me and my stupid lock screen had ruined us. I quickly fell into a downward spiral that was impossible to save myself from. I was drowning and I didn't know how to swim. I have a history of depression and I stopped taking my medication, I had lost all will to even try and continue with life and one night I decided I was done.

Life was not worth living if it was like this.

"Ok! How about this skirt, with this top?" Hannah asked holding up a distressed mini denim skirt and black bandeau top.

I looked at the outfit in her hands seeing the vision. "Yes, but swap the top for this one." I say holding up a long sleeve black shirt instead.

"Girl, it's August and we're going to be inside. You do not need long sleeves." I swallowed, I knew this would come up sooner or later. "Yes I do." Was all I said and luckily Hannah dropped the subject and threw me my skirt.

"Get ready! I'm going to change, we're leaving in an hour." The blonde girl stood up from my bedroom floor and left me alone to get dressed.

"Here, drink up." Kelsey placed a red cup, full to the brim, on my desk as I applied my mascara, finishing off my makeup.

"What's this?" I ask not waiting for an answer before taking a swig of the unknown drink. Vodka. It was definitely vodka and something else. I winced at the intensity of the cocktail. "It's the Kelsey Special of course!" My roommate laughed taking a sip from her own cup.

"Oh close your eyes!" She said doing a little jump, "I have a surprise for you."

“A surprise? For me?” I say doing as she says.

"Ok open!" I opened my eyes to see Kelseys hand opened in front of me, a danity string bracelet laying in her palm. "What's this?" I ask taking the thread into my own hands and admiring the intricate plait it was braided into. "It's official Single Sisters merch, duh!" She exclaims taking it back from me and tying it around my left wrist, she held up her own wrist showing off her matching bracelet. "I love them Kels!" I smile as I get up and pull her into a hug, "Thank you." "You're so welcome Lils, now lets get drunk!" And with that she drags me out of my bedroom, drinks in hand, into the kitchen where Hannah and Madison are pouring shots.

By the time we reach Huskies, its safe to say I'm tipsy. I'm not sure how many shots were consumed back at the apartment but I had another cup of the Kelsey Special and my body felt tingly and almost numb, it felt nice. I wasn't new to drinking and I knew my limit so I knew I'd be fine. We each got a drink as soon as we entered the bar and headed straight for the dance floor. The bar was decently busy, I scanned the room, no sign of Kayla...or Paige.

I'm not sure how long I had been dancing with my roommates before I felt an arm drape over my shoulders, "Hey hottie!" I flicked my head round and was met with Kaylas smiling face. "Oh my god, hiii!" I exclaim pulling her in for a hug, the alcohol had definitely hit. "These are my roommates! Kelsey, Hannah and Madison." I say pointing at the three girls individually, Kayla introduced herself as I finished the remainder of my drink.

"Come meet the girls!" Kayla shouted over the loud music, ushering us through the crowd over to a table in the corner of the bar.

She went around the entire group aquainting us with each other. I was now able to put names to the faces of the girls I'd seen in the gym earlier in the day.

Ice, Nika, Aliyah, Azzi, Aubrey and Jana.

"And of course you already met KK and Paige." Kayla says pointing behind me as Paige and KK approached us, multiple drinks in each of their hands.

I'm unsure whether it was the copious amounts of alcohol in my system or the moody low lighting of the bar but Paige looked particularly majestic as she sauntered over to the group. She had this vibe that seemed to follow her. Multiple heads turned in her direction and something told me she knew how hot she was.

KK was quick to put down the drinks she held and embrace me, I hugged the girl back taking in her sweet scent. Paige wasn't so quick, she handed drinks to her teammates and they thanked her before she turned her attention to me and my roommates. She introduced herself to Kelsey, Hannah and Madison giving them all a quick side hug.

"Hi Lily." She says, her eyes looking directly into mine. I have to look up slightly, the girl has some inches on me, "Hello Paige!" I can't help the stupid grin that spreads across my face as she leans in to hug me, not like the other girls, I'm encapsulated by both her arms, I swear if I was a cartoon character this is the moment my eyes would turn into red love hearts. Her scent was different from KKs, more vanilla-y, musky almost, warm.

"First time in Huskies calls for one thing: INITIATION SHOTS!" Nika says pulling me from Paige and leading me to the bar, her hands on my shoulders.

Once we all have a shot in our hands, Nika looks at me, "Ok one fact about you that no one knows!" She says pursing her lips.

God, the list was endless.

"I'm allergic to nuts." That was the most mundane fact that came to my mind.

"And not just the food kind!" Kelsey exclaims making the girls laugh before we knock back our shots.

Kelseys joke seemed to either go over everyones head or life really was different here in Connecticut and no one hated me because I was gay. Either way I felt comfortable around these girls, welcomed and it was a nice feeling.

I was reaching my limit but still found myself stumbling slightly towards the bar.

"Easy there." A hand grabbed my elbow balacing me before I was able to steady myself. "Thank you." I giggled and my words came out slurred.

I had definitely reached my limit but I waved the bar man over. "Vodka cranberry please!" I ordered feeling the hand move from my elbow to my lower back.

Who the hell was this?

I turned my gaze to my left seeing a guy slightly taller than me with brown shaggy hair smirking down at me. With one hand occupied on my lower back, the other dug into his pocket and he pulled out his card, "Let me get this for you." He says as he goes to pay for my drink. "No, it's OK." I say simply, trying to shrug him off. "Let me." He insists pulling me closer to him.

I was starting to feel uncomfortable when I felt his arm get yanked off of me, "She said it's OK, bro." Paige had inserted herself between me and the creep and gave him a light shove away. "Are you OK?" She asks looking at me sincerely, brows furrowed together. I nod, "I'm fine." I say as I pay for my drink. "Are you sure?" She double checks. "I promise, Paige. I've dealt with worse than a drunk guy in a bar." I reassure her. "As long as you're OK." She says, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as we walk back to the table her teammates were once gathered around.

Paige sits down at the booth and I intently watch as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and reajusted her t-shirt.

"You like what you see?" Paige is smirking now and I've been caught red handed.

"I um- I-"

Pull yourself together Lily!

"I wasn't staring." I defend myself lazily. Paige laughs, "But you were staring in the gym earlier." She says matter of factly, raising her brows at me.

I feel my cheeks burn, well and truly red handed.

"What?" Is all I can manage as a response.

"The walls are mirrored babe, just because you were behind me doesn't mean I didn't see you." If it was even possible, my cheeks got hotter with embarrassment.

"Cocky much?" I taunt the basketball player before taking a long, needed sip of my drink.

"When it makes you this flustered, yes." She says reaching out for my wrist, pulling me to sit next to her.

We're so close our legs are touching and I can smell the mix of vanilla and musk again. "Tell me something about yourself Lily. Something other than your allergy to nuts...not just the food kind." Oh god.

I muster every sober fibre inside of me to think of something that doesn't qualify as a trauma dump. I look down at my hands, the bracelet Kelsey gifted me earlier poking out of the bottom of my sleeve.

"I joined a club!" I say waving my arm up showing off the bracelet.

"Oh yeah, what club?" Paige questions, head slightly tilted. "Single sisters!" I say proudly. "It's just me and Kelsey at the moment but we made a pact to stay single all of junior year." I tell Paige about mine and my roommate's promise to each other.

She hooks a finger through the bracelet, her knuckle grazing my skin softly, and tugs gently. "Hey!" I pull my arm away afraid she'll break the delicate thread. "What are you doing?" I frown. "Just checking how secure that thing is." She looks at me with that god forsaken eye contact that she's so good at. "Wouldn't want it breaking." She says eyes still locked onto mine.

"Lilyyyyy." I begrudgingly look away from Paige to see Madison practically being held up by Kelsey and Hannah.

I thought I was drunk.

"I think it's home time." Paige says into my ear, her breath hot on my neck.

"Hi Mads." I say standing up, ignoring the fact Paiges breath had spiked my heart rate. "I think we should get her home." Hannah says and I nod turning to grab my bag.

Well, well, well.

I catch Paige, staring, right at me, I smirk to myself.

One point to Lily.

I bend slightly to pick my bag up off the table, "Looks like we both have a staring problem." I say quiet enough for just Paige to hear and quickly turn on my heel following my friends out of the bar.

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[callonpeevesie]

justiman enjoyers please accept my humble offering. inspired by @nadiajustbe's post about ben's guitar

putting this under the cut because i don't want the caption to get too long.

i Do Not know why justin looks like oscar wilde, i swear it was an accident. i Did draw the green carnation on purpose, and only later realised that green carnations being a symbol of homosexuality is a thing of our world and wouldn't be known in ingary. ....which means ben grew the flowers and gave that to justin Knowing the symbolism. dork.

most of the descriptions in the book are super vague so i just made up the designs. while ben canonically has ginger hair, i don't remember if justin's hair colour was ever mentioned in the books (his blue eyes Were mentioned in cita) but the strangian soldier had grey hair so i was going for dark grey. but the markers i used make everything too dark so it looks black now. not that i'm complaining.

justin's uniform is my design with some inspiration from these. all that was mentioned in hmc were green uniform and long shiny boots, and the green uniform was his disguise according to lettie so ??? i have no idea what he wears when he's not in disguise so have this i guess.

the guitar is mostly based on this. for ben's outfit i went for a cloak-ish thing to make him look wizardly but kept the shirt and pants casual since ben seems to me like the type to wear practical clothes in contrast with howl's flamboyance.