#i made this and knew it recognized bass hit

[aholefilledwithtwigs]

I apologize in advance

While I was working on some new music, I swore it sounded familiar-- then I finally placed it

So here is my abstract as fuck cover of Placebo's Scared of Girls

Like I said, I'm sorry

(here is the original for reference)

[bangchansdirty-slut]

My Dopamine

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Paring: Top!Giselle x Member!Bttm! Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: Giselle wrote "Dopamine" about you and couldn't help but express what the song is really about when you asked her.

More: Masterlist

A/n: I couldn't stop listening to Dopamine by Giselle and Roses by Jaehyun while writing this. I might be obsessed with these songs. Also, should I write fan fiction based on the other members' solo songs?

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

Giselle sat on the couch on the stage, the lights dimming around her as the music began to swell. The audience, a sea of waving lightsticks, was entranced by the opening notes of her solo performance. She took a deep breath, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves. This was the moment she had been waiting for, a chance to showcase her own voice and her own story. As she opened her mouth to let the lyrics flow, she thought about the inspiration behind the song. Her eyes searched the shadows offstage, finding the familiar figure of Y/n, who was watching her intently.

The words of "Dopamine" spilled from Giselle's lips, each syllable a declaration of the intense passion she felt for her secret lover. Her rap was sharp and precise, the bass vibrating through the stadium as she spit verses filled with desire and lust. She knew Y/n would recognize the subtle references to their clandestine encounters, the way she spoke of her body as if it were a sacred text that only the two of them could read. The chorus hit, and Giselle's gaze held steady on Y/n, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper as she sang about the taste of her, the feel of her, the way she was Giselle's dopamine fix.

Backstage, Y/n felt a rush of heat as the realization dawned on her. Her eyes widened as she watched Giselle perform, her cheeks flushing at the explicit nature of the lyrics. She knew that the other members and the staff wouldn't catch on, but for her, it was as if the song was a love letter played out for the world to see. Her heart raced, her breath shallow, as she listened to the words that painted a vivid picture of their secret moments together. The crowd roared their approval, and Y/n couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement and exposure at the same time.

After the concert, the members of Aespa made their way back to their hotel. The energy of the show still pulsed through their veins as they chattered about the performance, but Y/n remained quiet, lost in thought. When they finally reached their hotel room, she turned to Giselle, her eyes searching for any signs of embarrassment or regret. Instead, she found only a smoldering gaze that sent a bolt of desire straight to her core. Giselle's smirk grew wider as she leaned in, her voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down Y/n's spine. "You know that song was all about your delicious body, don't you?"

Before Y/n could respond, Giselle closed the distance between them and pushed her onto the bed. With surprising strength, she tugged at Y/n's skirt, revealing the matching set of lacy panties she had picked out earlier. Her eyes gleamed with hunger as she pulled the fabric aside and bent her head to kiss the soft skin of Y/n's inner thighs. "I just couldn't keep it to myself anymore," Giselle murmured, her breath hot against Y/n's skin. "You're my muse, my addiction."

Y/n's eyes rolled back in her head as Giselle's tongue darted out to trace her folds. She had always been sensitive, but with Giselle's expert touch, it felt like every nerve was on fire. Her moans grew louder, filling the room as Giselle's mouth moved closer to the spot she craved. Giselle's hands were everywhere, now they're holding her hips in place as she explored her with a hunger that was unmatched.

Their eyes locked, and in that moment, Y/n felt a surge of power. Despite being the one on her back, she knew she had just as much control in this situation as Giselle did. She reached down, her fingers tangling in Giselle's hair, and pushed her face closer to her wetness. Giselle's eyes sparkled with challenge, but she didn't hesitate. Her tongue delved into Y/n's core, making her gasp and arch off the bed. The sensation was intense, a perfect blend of pleasure and pressure that had Y/n's legs shaking and her toes curling.

Giselle's ministrations grew more fervent, her tongue swirling and flicking against Y/n's clit with a precision that spoke of countless hours of practice. Y/n's moans grew louder, echoing through the hotel room like a siren's call. She felt Giselle's hand slip up her tank top, seeking out her hardened nipples. The pinching and twisting sent a jolt of pleasure straight to her pussy, and she bucked her hips against Giselle's face. The world outside of their embrace faded away, leaving only the two of them in a cocoon of lust and desire.

Y/n's breath hitched as Giselle's teeth grazed her sensitive bud, and she couldn't help but let out a loud cry. The sound seemed to spur Giselle on, her movements becoming more insistent. Y/n felt her orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that threatened to consume her. She gripped the sheets tightly, her knuckles white with the effort to hold on, her eyes squeezed shut as if to keep the intensity within. But it was too much, and she shattered, her body convulsing with the force of her release.

Giselle looked up at Y/n, a smug smile playing on her lips, as the latter lay panting and trembling beneath her. "You're mine, Y/n," she murmured, her voice thick with desire. "Every inch of you is my dopamine." She began to strip away her own clothes, revealing her toned body and the matching lingerie she had chosen for the evening. Y/n felt a mix of excitement and vulnerability as she watched Giselle's confidence grow.

They settled into a 69 position, Y/n eager to return the favor. But Giselle's own arousal was a distraction. Her scent filled the air, and Y/n's mouth watered at the thought of tasting her. She tried to focus on Giselle's pussy, but her own need was still so raw and demanding. Giselle's fingertips danced across her clit, sending waves of pleasure through her body, making it impossible to concentrate.

Giselle's moans grew louder as Y/n's mouth worked on her. Her tongue lapped and swirled, trying to mimic the moves that had brought her to the edge just moments before. But Giselle was relentless, her fingers moving faster, pressing harder, until Y/n's world narrowed to the point between her legs. Her hips began to move, grinding into Giselle's mouth, her moans becoming cries.

Y/n squirted again, the warmth of her release coating Giselle's mouth and chin. Giselle pulled back, licking her lips clean with a satisfied smile. "Baby you need to please me too," she whispered,, her voice filled with need. Y/n nodded, feeling the urgency building within her as well. They shifted, and Giselle is now straddling Y/n's face, her pussy hovering just above her mouth. Y/n opened her eyes and took in the sight of her lover, her body begging for more.

Giselle's pussy was a masterpiece, wet and swollen from desire. Y/n eagerly dove in, her tongue darting out to taste her. Giselle's hips began to rock immediately, setting a rhythm that had both of them moaning in pleasure. Giselle's hand found Y/n's hair, guiding her movements, as she worked her own clit with the other hand. Y/n's own arousal grew, her pussy throbbing in response to the sound of Giselle's pleasure.

The taste of Giselle was like nothing she had ever experienced, a heady mix of sweet and salty that made Y/n feel high. She felt Giselle's muscles tighten around her face as she brought her closer to the brink. The scent of their combined desire was intoxicating, filling the room and making it difficult to think about anything but the moment. Giselle's thighs trembled, and Y/n knew she was close.

With a final, desperate thrust of her hips, Giselle came hard, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. She collapsed onto the bed next Y/n, panting and smiling. The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with the scent of arousal. Y/n looked up at her, eyes glazed over with lust, her mouth still slick with Giselle's juices.

Giselle came closer and kissed Y/n, the taste of their shared pleasure mingling on their tongue. Y/n's body was still humming with the aftershocks of her own climax, but she craved more. Giselle lets go and stands up, her eyes never leaving Y/n's. "Let's go shower," she suggests with a wink, her voice husky from the passionate exchange.

Y/n nods, her legs wobbly as she stands. They walk into the bathroom, the tiles cold against their bare feet, the contrast making their skin tingle with excitement. The shower is already steaming up the room, and Giselle steps in, holding out a hand to help Y/n in. The water cascades down their bodies, washing away the sweat and the evidence of their desire. They stand under the spray, kissing deeply, their bodies pressed together as the water runs over their curves.

[lemoncrushh]

The One Where Harry Tries to Win You Back

Summary: When Harry cancels your date again, you decide to go out alone.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2222

A/N: An angsty one shot from 2016.

You dropped the phone on the bed before you plopped down angrily beside it. With a huff, you crossed your arms, determined not to let the tears come that burned behind your eyes. Harry had canceled your date...again.

This was the third time in less than two weeks. Each time he had a valid excuse, but you couldn't help but feel like you were less of a priority and more of an "I'll see you when I can" kind of a person. You'd always put him first, rearranging your schedule to fit his, but you didn't think he did the same. And frankly, you were getting sick of it.

You loved being with him, in fact you thought things were getting serious for a while. But now you weren't so sure. You knew he was busy, that was a given. But having to sit home with the television and a pint of ice cream each time he called to say he was sorry, he had to cancel, was starting to wear on your nerves, not to mention your self-esteem.

Each time he'd apologized, and each time you'd told him it was okay, you understood. Now as you sat on the bed looking down at the dress you'd bought on credit, you started to question your level of understanding. Just how much can a girl take before she says never mind and moves on?

Taking a deep breath, you knew what you needed to do. You resolved not to watch another movie on Netflix or whine into a bowl of Haagen Dazs. You were supposed to be going to a party tonight. And that's just what you were gonna do, Harry or no Harry.

Grabbing your bag and your phone, you headed out the door. As soon as you pulled up to the valet, you saw the crowd of people, for a moment second guessing your decision. But when your door opened and the valet held out his hand, you took it, stepping out of the car into the warm night and handing him the keys. Had you been with Harry, no doubt the cameras would have been flashing a thousand times more than they were now, but regardless of his absence, you knew photos were being taken of you. You didn't care. You were determined to have a good time.

When you walked into the room, the music hit you instantly, the bass vibrating in your chest. You gazed around to see if you saw any familiar faces. You saw a few, but nobody that you had been introduced to yet. Finding the bar, you quickly ordered a drink, swaying your hips to the beat. Within minutes, you were feeling loose and carefree, ready to dance.

Squeezing past a handful of people, you made it to the middle of the dance floor, raising your hands above your head. Almost immediately, two girls that you recognized smiled and joined you. Soon, you had a small crowd around you, all of you lost in the music and the vibe.

Three or four songs later, you made your way back to the bar, ordering yourself a shot and another cocktail. The two girls you'd recognized chatted with you for a bit before you noticed one of the guys that had been dancing near you giving you the eye. Momentarily you wished Harry was with you, but you quickly shrugged off the thought, feeling good to be noticed.

An hour and a couple drinks later, you were back on the dance floor, the crowd now so big that everyone was touching, barely any space between their bodies. You felt a pair of hands on your hips, a male body pressed up against yours. Perhaps it was your now inebriated state or just the uninhibited high you felt, but you leaned back into him, not caring at all who was watching.

That's when you saw him.

The hairs on the back of your neck tickled your skin as his eyes burned into yours. If you weren't so mad at him at that moment, he might have taken your breath away. As usual, he looked drop dead gorgeous.

Swallowing, you averted your gaze, grabbing the hands that continued to grip your hips, moving them up to your waist. You could feel him watching you as you allowed the faceless male behind you grind up against you. Suddenly, you felt a firm hand grab hold of your arm.

"What are you doing?" he growled.

Finally looking at him, you cocked a brow. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"It looks like you came here without me and you're letting some bloke feel you up."

Swaying a bit, you gave Harry a smirk. "So what if I am?"

Clenching his jaw, he grabbed your arm tighter, pulling you off the dance floor. When you were both out of earshot, Harry stopped and you jerked your arm out of his grip.

"What the fuck Harry?" you scowled.

Her glared at you, looking like he was about to retort, but thought better of it, clamping his mouth shut. Blowing a breath out of his nostrils, he ran a hand through his curls. Finally, he opened his mouth again, this time to speak.

"I should be asking you that, shouldn't I?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" you nearly shouted.

"It means..." Harry paused, "it means I'm sorry I had to cancel, but I didn't expect to see some other bloody guy's hands on you!"

"Why not?" you shot back. "You don't give a shit about me!"

"What?"

"Admit it, Harry. It was fun while it lasted. But you've made it apparent that this isn't serious to you." You started to walk away, but Harry grabbed you by the wrist.

"Why do you say that?" he asked, the expression on his face a mixture of hurt and fury.

"You always have something else going on that's more important. Yes, I get that you're who you are. I knew that coming into this. But I'm tired of you canceling on me. I've had it. If I don't mean more to you, then I'm moving on. I'm saying goodbye right now."

This time you were able to remove your arm from his grasp, heading toward the ladies' room.

"[Y/N]!" he called, but you didn't turn around.

Once in the stall, you let the tears fall. The truth was, you liked him. A lot. You didn't really want to let him go. But you were so tired of being made to feel like a second choice, like you would always be there waiting on the back burner. You deserved more than that.

After washing your hands and freshening up, you made your way back to the party. You didn't see any sign of Harry, so you assumed he'd probably given up and left. Fine. So be it. When you returned to the bar for another drink, however, you heard a low voice in your ear.

"Can we talk about this?"

You barely shifted your gaze to look at him, standing so closely behind you, you could feel his breath against your neck.

"Please?"

You closed your eyes softly before turning around to face him. This time all of the anger he'd shown before had dissipated, leaving only a face of concern. You swallowed hard, opening your lips, but giving only a nod instead.

"I'm really sorry," he confessed, his shoulders dropping.

You bit your lower lip, wanting to believe him, but still holding your ground.

"If you say so," you muttered.

Harry sighed. "[Y/N], Jesus, what can I do to show you I care about you? That I want to be with you?"

"Stop canceling on me!" you yelled a little louder than you'd meant to.

"I can't...I can't always help that. If I have a last-minute work commitment, I have to tend to it. It has nothing to do with not wanting you, or not making you a priority. Please understand that."

Harry's tone was still firm though laced with frustration. You stared at him for a moment, trying hard not to cave. He could feel your resistance, so he threw his hands up.

"I don't know what else to do."

"I don't either," you said. "Maybe this just isn't working out, Harry."

"So that's it?" he shook his head in disbelief. "It's over?"

You blinked. "I guess so."

Harry gave you one last blank stare before turning on his heels and walking away. You drew a shaky breath, letting it out in the same fashion. The drink you had been determined to order to wash the pain away suddenly had no appeal. In fact, you now felt completely sober. Stepping away from the bar, you made your way closer to the exit until you finally found yourself outside waiting for the valet to bring your car around.

You weren't really sure how you made it home. You barely remembered the drive at all. You felt utterly numb. Stripping out of your dress, you hung it back up in the closet and changed into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Suddenly, another wave of anger came over you. So fucking what if Harry Styles didn't want you! You pulled your hair back into a ponytail and scrubbed off your makeup, getting more perturbed with each wipe of your hands. By the time you were finished, your cheeks flushed from the cleanse as well as annoyance, you realized you were crying.

Dammit! you cursed just as you heard a knock at the door. Or at least you thought you did. You paused in the hallway to listen for it, and when another knock came, you quickly wiped your eyes, heading toward the sound.

Harry stood on the other side of the door, a similar look on his face as your own. You let out a gasp, your lips beginning to say his name before he crossed the threshold and took your face into his hands, kissing you passionately.

"Ha-Harry," you managed to whisper when he finally pulled away.

"Listen to me, [Y/N]," he insisted. "I want you. I want us."

Blinking back a fresh set of tears, you looked at him, speechless. Pursing his lips, Harry breathed out of his nostrils before continuing.

"I'll show you how much. I felt gutted that I'd disappointed you again, having to cancel our date. I was able to get out early, so I called you, but got no answer. So I came over. And you weren't home. I called again, still nothing. I stood here in your fucking hallway trying to ring you until your neighbor saw me and said they'd seen you leave in a 'hot little number'," said Harry, using air quotes on the last three words. "I thought maybe you'd decided to go to the party. Wondering why or how didn't even register at the time. I was just thinking it would be nice to see you there. I'd show up and we could enjoy the rest of the evening together. I had no idea you were doing it out of spite, like some sort of way to get back at me for letting you down."

"I'm sor-" you began, but Harry pressed his finger to your lips.

"I'm not saying this to make you feel guilty," he added. "You’re entitled to feel the way you feel. But I gotta admit, that shook me to the core seeing you with your body right up against some other guy."

"It did?" you murmured underneath his finger.

Harry nodded, finally releasing his finger from your mouth, allowing it to slide down your chin.

"Yeah. It did." He took another deep breath, letting it out roughly. "Maybe it's what I needed. Like a wake-up call."

"Harry, I-"

"Let me finish," he interrupted again. The furrow of his brows erased as he gave a small smile. "Please."

You chuckled lightly. "Maybe you should get inside the door first."

Harry laughed with you, stepping further into your apartment, allowing you to shut the door behind him. Then he took your hands in his.

"There's something else I have to confess," he swallowed. "And I was going to tell you tonight. But then..."

His voice trailed off as he looked at the floor.

"What is it?" you asked meekly.

Harry cleared his throat and looked up slowly. "Lately I've been feeling like...like I'm falling for y-"

This time it was your turn to silence him with your finger. Tears welled up in your eyes again as you felt your breath catch in your throat.

"Don't say it, Harry," you muttered.

"No?" he shook his head, his eyes wide in question.

"Not if you're just trying to get me back," you choked. "Not unless..."

Harry grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to him, his mouth crashing into yours with fervor and avidity. You heard yourself groan against his lips, your arms eagerly grabbing hold of his neck, needing to feel his body as close to yours as possible.

"...you mean it," you managed to finish between kisses.

You didn't need to hear Harry's response in words. He said it all as he lifted you up by the hips, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist, and he led you back to the bedroom.

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[cumironi]

hi! i really love your satosugu series so muchhhh! i hope you don't mind me making a request here ☺️ would you make it where they go to the club but someone trying to hitting on you and you want to go to the beach after? pleaseeee I will love you more if you do, thank you so much 💝☺️

IDIOTS AND SEAWEED : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

your two boyfriends got too protective over you, so what's better than to give them a little bit of seaweed and salt water?

warning. established relationship! satosugu, fluff, slightly injured ( reader ), blood, overprotective.

wc. 8,1k | m.list

i'm not really happy with how this turns out but i hope you still be able to enjoy it ☺️

the club was buzzing with energy, the bass thumping through the floor as you moved with shoko, grinding at each other, the two of you lost in the rhythm of the music. laughter spilled from your lips as you took a sip from your drink, the alcohol making everything feel a little lighter, a little more carefree. shoko mirrored your grin, her hair swinging as she danced beside you, both of you having the time of your lives.

your eyes flicked over to where your boyfriends were standing with nanami and yuu haibara. they were watching you with a mix of amusement and something else that made your heart race a little faster. suguru was leaning against the bar, a slight smirk tugging at his lips as he took a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving you. satoru, on the other hand, had that playful grin on his face, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses as he exchanged a look with suguru.

nanami was his usual composed self, though there was a hint of a smile as he watched the two of you having fun. yuu haibara, ever the enthusiastic one, looked like he wanted to join in on the dance floor any minute.

you winked at suguru and satoru, knowing full well the effect it would have on them. satoru rolled his eyes playfully, but the smile on his face widened, while suguru just shook his head slightly, that smirk still firmly in place. you couldn’t help but laugh, the sight of their reactions only adding to your good mood.

suguru's eyes darkened as he watched you and shoko dance together, the way you moved against each other driving him crazy. satoru, who was standing next to him, noticed the change in his expression and chuckled quietly. he knew exactly what was going through suguru's mind, but he wasn't about to let his partner have all the fun.

“enjoying the view, suguru?” satoru said, a teasing edge to his voice as he took a sip from his own drink. “shut up,” suguru muttered, his eyes still fixed on you. as the hours passed, the atmosphere in the club became even more electric. the dance floor was filled with people, all of them lost in the music and the thrill of the night. you were dancing with shoko, your body moving in sync to the beat, when you felt a pair of hands on your hips.

you froze for a split second, your heart skipping a beat as you registered the unfamiliar touch on your hips. turning around, you were met with the sight of a man you didn’t recognize, his grin far too confident for your liking. his hand lingered on your waist as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “having fun?” he asked, his voice dripping with a sultriness that made your skin crawl.

your eyes narrowed as you took a small step back, putting some distance between you. “get your hand off me,” you said, your voice filled with annoyance, cutting through the music and the man's smug expression. he blinked, clearly taken aback by your response. his grin faltered for a moment, but he didn’t move, his hand still resting on your hip as if he hadn’t heard you correctly.

“i said,” you repeated, your tone even sharper now, “get. your. hand. off.” the man's expression hardened at your words, his grip on your hip unconsciously tightening as he tried to keep his cool. “hey, don't be like that,” he protested, his tone now laced with a hint of annoyance. “i'm just trying to have some fun, no need to be so uptight.”

he took a step closer to you, his body press against yours, his breath now coming in short puffs. his free hand moved to your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. “come on, relax a little.”

your eyes narrowed, any hint of patience you might have had vanishing in an instant. the tightening grip on your hip and his fingers on your chin only fueled the anger simmering inside you.

“i said,” you began, your voice icy, “get your filthy hands off me.”

you slapped his hand away from your chin with a sharp motion, not caring if it stung, your glare piercing right through him. you took a deliberate step back, putting as much space as possible between you and the creep, the disgust evident on your face.

“are you dumb?” you spat, your tone dripping with disdain, "did you seriously think that grabbing me like some desperate loser would get you anywhere? you're pathetic.”

his face twisted in anger, but before he could say anything, you cut him off, your voice rising above the thumping music, “you must be so fucking thick that your brain can even understand a simple words like taking your hands off me.”

the man's eyes flared with anger as you tore into him, your words stabbing into him like a thousand tiny knives. no woman had ever spoken to him like this before, and the shock of it was almost palpable. his face contorted into a twisted snarl as he clenched his fists, his own anger now boiling over.

“how dare you speak to me like that,” he snarled, taking a step forward, his body tense like a coiled spring, “you think you're better than me, don't you? you think you can just talk to me like that?”

a smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you watched his face contort with rage. his anger only fueled your amusement, and you couldn't resist the urge to mock him further.

“uh-oh,” you said in a mocking tone, raising an eyebrow, “i think i can, and i just did.” your words hung in the air like a challenge, daring him to do something about it. his fists clenched tighter, and for a moment, it seemed like he might actually lose control.

the man's chest was heaving, his breath coming in ragged puffs as your words dug under his skin like a hot poker. he was barely holding himself back from pouncing on you right there, his eyes darkening with a barely controlled rage, the veins on his face popping out from the tension.

“watch your mouth,” he seethed, his voice low and dangerous. “you think you're tough, but i could have you begging for mercy in an instant,” he took another step forward, his body now looming over you. a slow, mocking grin spread across your face as you saw how close he was to losing it. you brought your hands together, pretending to pout in exaggerated fear.

“oh, i’m scared,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. you even added a little tremor for effect, fanning yourself dramatically, “everyone, i’m scared.”

you turned your head slightly, as if looking for someone in the crowd who might care, your expression the picture of fake concern. then you looked back at him, batting your lashes in mock submission. “please,” you continued, your tone now laced with a taunting edge, “show me some mercy.”

your words cut through the air, sharp and humiliating, and the crowd around you began to notice the scene unfolding. a few people even chuckled, the sound only fueling the man’s frustration. his face turned a dangerous shade of red, his fists trembling as he struggled to keep control.

the man’s face flushed crimson with embarrassment and fury as the words registered in his mind. the people around them had started to stop and watch the scene unfold, a few even laughing at your mocking response.

he could feel the heat rise up his neck, spreading to his face as the humiliation set in. nobody had ever dared to treat him like this, much less a woman. he took another step forward, his body nearly trembling with his barely concealed anger. “you… you…,” he stuttered, the words failing him in the face of your unrelenting mockery.

you couldn't help but laugh, along with shoko behind you, the sound light and condescending as the man struggled to find his words. his face was a blotchy mix of red and white, his frustration palpable, and you decided to twist the knife just a little more.

“you… you… what?” you mimicked his stutter with exaggerated concern, tilting your head and widening your eyes in mock sympathy. “aw, are you having trouble finding your words? poor thing.”

you crossed your arms, tapping your fingers against your bicep as if waiting for him to come up with something worthwhile to say. the crowd around you snickered, clearly entertained by the spectacle, and the man's face only grew redder with every passing second.

“come on now,” you continued, your voice dripping with mock encouragement, “use your big-boy words. surely you can do better than that.” from the corner of your eye, you could see suguru and satoru watching from the bar, their expressions a mix of amusement and pride. they were ready to jump in if things escalated, but for now, they were enjoying the show, confident in your ability to handle the situation.

the man's fists trembled now, the tension in his body so taut it was a miracle he didn't explode right there on the spot. the people around him were now openly laughing at the display, their mockery adding fuel to the fire. he glanced at them, his face twisting in frustration, and back to you.

“don't... don't make fun of me!” he finally managed to say, his voice quivering with rage, “you... you think you're so damn funny. you think you're special.” you couldn't hold back a burst of laughter at his pitiful attempt to regain control. his trembling voice, the way he stuttered through his words—it was all too amusing.

“mememe,” you mimicked, your tone high-pitched and mocking as you made a childish face, mimicking a whiny tone. you then let out a hearty laugh, clearly enjoying how much you were getting under his skin.

the crowd around you erupted into more laughter, some even mimicking your mocking tone, further humiliating the man. his face flushed an even deeper shade of red, his fists clenching tighter as his body shook with barely contained rage. “oh, i think i’m hilarious,” you said, still laughing, wiping a fake tear from your eye, “and special? absolutely. thanks for noticing.”

as the crowd's laughter grew louder, his anger seemed to reach its breaking point. but before he could do something reckless, you saw suguru and satoru moving closer from the bar, their expressions a mix of amusement and protective instinct. satoru’s voice cut through the noise, light and teasing. “oh, she’s definitely special. now, if you’re done embarrassing yourself, i suggest you walk away.”

the man's eye's flicked to suguru and satoru, his body going tense as they approached. he looked back at you, his face a picture of humiliated fury, before spitting on the floor at your feet. “like i'd walk away just because you said so,” he said, his voice trembling with anger, “she's just a woman. i'll do what i want.” suguru's expression darkened at the man's words, his hand moving to your hip as a clear warning. 

“watch your mouth,” suguru growled, his voice low and dangerous. “you don't want to make this any worse for yourself.” the man smirked, a hint of spite in his eyes. “and what are you going to do about it? hit me? go on, try it.” satoru chuckled, a dangerous edge to his voice, “oh, we don't have to hit you. there are plenty of other ways to put you in your place.”

“oh yeah? like what?” the man retorted, his voice dripping with arrogance. satoru stepped closer, a sly smile on his face. “well, for starters, we could tell everyone in this club what a pathetic little sleazebag you are.” his words hit their mark, the man's confident smirk faltering for just a split second. he glanced around as the people nearby started to pay even more attention, their eyes darting between him and the three of you. don't forget shoko, yuu and nanami watching from behind.

the man's face paled slightly as more people turned their attention to the confrontation. it was clear that whatever leverage he thought he had was quickly disappearing. he looked at you, his eyes full of frustration and anger, but you met his gaze with a cool smirk.

“go on,” you coaxed, your voice smooth and sultry. “tell everyone how you tried to touch me without my consent.” the man's eyes widened in shock, his face flushing even more as people around you whispered in shock.

suguru's hand tightened on your hip as the whispers grew louder. he was getting more and more tense, ready to act if necessary. satoru's smile turned sharper as he saw the man falter. 

“oh, and don't forget the part where you tried to intimidate her,” satoru added, his voice sickly sweet but with a clear undercurrent of mockery. “can't forget that, now can we?” the man's face was now beet red, his eyes darting around frantically as he struggled to find a way out of the hole he'd dug himself into.

the whispers around you grew into murmurs as people began to whisper about the man's behavior. he looked around, his eyes darting from one person to the next, a hint of panic starting to show on his face as he realized he was in over his head

“i... i didn't mean anything by it,” he stammered, his voice now pleading, “i was just having a bit of fun.” suguru's lips curled into a sneer, “really? fun is grabbing someone without their consent? interesting definition you have there.”

you let out a tired sigh, your amusement fading as the man’s panicked stammering became more pathetic by the second. this whole situation had lost its entertainment value, and now it was just exhausting. “just go,” you said, your tone flat and dismissive, waving a hand as if shooing away an annoying insect, “i’m bored already.”

the man's face twisted in anger once again at your dismissing tone, but before he could respond, suguru’s grip on your hip tightened. he leaned in close to the man, his eyes dark and menacing. “you heard the lady,” suguru said, his voice low and dangerous, “get lost before i do something we both regret.”

the man bristled, but knew he was outnumbered and out-classed. he shot one last, spiteful look in your direction before storming off through the crowd, his face a sullen mess.

the people around you went back to their own business, the excitement quickly dissolving as the scene played out. satoru let out a low whistle, his eyes glittering with humor. “well, that was entertaining,” he said, a smirk on his face as he looked at you, “you sure know how to handle creeps, don’t you?”

you let out a wry chuckle, leaning back into suguru's chest as you felt his grip loosen slightly. “dealing with assholes is an art form,” you quipped, “and i'm a goddamn artist.” you scrunch your nose at your own words, suddenly feeling a hint of embarrassed. suguru huffed out a laugh, his hand rubbing comforting circles on your hip.

“that you are,” he agreed, his voice rough with amusement, “but next time, try not to give them a show, alright?” you frowned playfully, turning slightly in suguru’s arms to look up at him. “and lose a free circus like that? not a chance,” you replied with a smirk, “if a monkey wants attention, i’m going to give them one.” suguru chuckled, shaking his head in amusement, "you do love putting on a show, don’t you?”

suguru shook his head, a mix of mock annoyance and affection on his face. “you enjoy getting into trouble far too much,” he said, his voice slightly lecturing, but his eyes were soft as he looked at you. “one of these days you're going to bite off more than you can chew.”

satoru snickered in front of you.

“that's why she has us, to clean up the mess she makes.” you snickered, your eyes glinting with mischief as you turned to suguru. “you should be more smart like satoru, baby,” you teased, reaching over to ruffle satoru’s hair like he was a puppy. satoru grinned wide, clearly enjoying the playful attention.

suguru mock-scowled at you, grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand away from satoru's hair.

“i'm plenty smart enough,” he said, his voice slightly petulant, “and i'd thank you not to encourage this one's bad behavior.” he gestured at satoru, who simply grinned wider, clearly relishing the moment.

you let out a bored sigh, your gaze drifting across the dance floor as people swayed and drank, lost in their own worlds. the vibrant energy that had initially excited you was now starting to feel a bit stale, the same repetitive beats and drunken laughter blending into a background noise that barely held your interest.

suguru noticed your shift in mood, his hand on your hip sliding up to your waist as he leaned down towards your ear. “bored already?” he asked, his voice rumbling close to your ear, his warm breath fanning across your neck. satoru’s eyes flicked from you to suguru, his smirk transforming into a knowing smile.

you were silent for a moment, feeling the warmth of suguru’s breath against your neck and the weight of his question hanging in the air. the noise, the lights, the crowd—it all seemed so monotonous now, and the idea of staying any longer felt suffocating.

suddenly, a thought struck you, and without another word, you pulled away from suguru, a determined look in your eyes. “let’s go to the beach,” you said, your tone decisive as you began to weave your way through the crowd, not waiting for their response.

suguru and satoru exchanged glances, a mix of surprise and amusement flashing across their faces before they hurried to follow you. they knew better than to question your sudden decisions.

on your way out, you spotted your friends—shoko, nanami, and haibara—still caught up in their own fun. without breaking stride, you reached out and pinched nanami’s cheek, earning a lazy look from him as he turned to you.

“we’re heading out first,” you announced, your tone light but with an edge of finality that left no room for argument. nanami just sighed, clearly used to your unpredictable nature, while shoko and yuu waved you off with a smile. “have fun,” shoko called after you, her voice barely carrying over the music.

with a quick wave, you continued toward the exit, your boyfriends close behind. the idea of the cool night air, the sound of the waves, and the peace of the beach had already lifted your spirits, and you knew that wherever the night led, it would be far better than staying in the crowded club.

suguru and satoru followed behind you like obedient shadows, sharing amused grins as they watched you in action. your unpredictability was one of the many things they loved about you, and it never failed to keep them on their toes.

suguru’s hand found your hip again, his grip firm as they made their way out of the club, the cool night air a stark contrast to the hot, cramped atmosphere inside. “lead the way, princess,” satoru said, his tone teasing but affectionate.

as the three of you made your way to the car, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement at the sudden change of plans. suguru’s hand on your hip was a comforting presence, and satoru’s teasing words brought a small smile to your lips.

once you reached the car, suguru slid into the driver’s seat, while satoru took the front passenger seat. you, however, slipped into the back, feeling a bit giddy as you settled in. as soon as the car started moving, you rolled down the window and leaned your head out, letting the cool night breeze whip through your hair and across your face.

the wind felt refreshing, a welcome contrast to the stifling heat of the club, and it seemed to clear the last remnants of alcohol from your system. you closed your eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of freedom that came with the open road and the spontaneity of the night.

suguru kept his eyes on the road ahead, but his grip on the steering wheel tightened as he cast a sly look at you in the rearview mirror. he couldn’t help but admire the way the wind tousled your hair and the way your eyes closed in contentment.

satoru, on the other hand, twisted around in his seat, his usual smirk on his lips as he watched you bask in the open air. “you’re like a stray cat,” he teased. “always wanting to do unexpected things.” you playfully roll your eyes at him with a smile on your lips, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “what can i say, i like things exciting,” you retorted, leaning further out the window, the cool air caressing your face.

suguru chuckled from the driver’s seat, his eyes flickering to the road then back to you. “exciting is an understatement, baby. you’re a goddamn tornado, leaving chaos wherever you go.”

you chuckled at satoru’s comment, opening your eyes to meet his gaze, your expression playful. “and you boys are just my loyal hounds, following me wherever i lead.” suguru huffed a small laugh, his eyes still on the road but his tone slightly chiding. “careful, princess. your ego is starting to get a little inflated."

satoru snickered at your retort, his gaze never leaving you. “loyal hounds?” he mused, his eyes glimmering with playful challenges. “more like enablers for your whirlwind tendencies.” suguru chimed in from the driver's seat, his tone half-serious and half-amused, “someone needs to keep you in line, princess. otherwise, you'd run wild and take over the world.”

you chuckle lightly, “sorry.”

satoru and suguru both chuckle at your faux apology, knowing damn well you were as unapologetic as they come. “yeah, we believe you,” satoru said, rolling his eyes jokingly. suguru grins in the driver's seat, his eyes meeting your side profile in the rearview mirror. “just try not to cause too much chaos tonight, alright?”

you ignored their teasing remarks, keeping your eyes closed and your head still out the window, letting the wind brush against your face. their laughter and playful banter were familiar, comforting even, but right now, you were content to just be in the moment, letting your more carefree, playful side take over.

satoru and suguru exchanged knowing glances, their amusement tinged with affection. they knew you well enough to understand that sometimes, you just needed to let loose and be in your own world for a bit. after all, being younger than them, you still had that playful energy that demanded to be let out every now and then.

“she’s in her own world,” suguru murmured, his tone soft as he watched you through the rearview mirror. satoru, sensing the shift in your demeanor, turned around in his seat to look at you. his eyes softened as he took in your relaxed expression, your chin tilted up to the sky as you basked in the night air. “she’s like a goddamn cat,” he said, his voice lowered to a murmur so only suguru could hear him, “one minute, she’s a wild whirlwind and the next, she’s all content and calm.”

almost an hour later, the three of you arrived at the beach. the moment the car came to a stop, you were already unbuckling your seatbelt and throwing open the door. without a second thought, you bolted out of the car, kicking off your shoes and tossing your bag aside as you made a beeline for the shore.

“wah, it's the beach!” you squealed, your voice full of excitement as you dashed across the sand, the cool night air whipping through your hair.

suguru and satoru watched you with fond smiles, taking their time as they got out of the car. they knew you well enough to expect this kind of reaction, and they couldn’t help but feel a warm sense of contentment as they watched you run toward the water, your laughter echoing in the night. satoru bent down to pick up your discarded shoes and bag, shaking his head with a grin. “be careful, baby!”

suguru shut the car door and leaned against it, folding his arms as he watched you race down the beach. his eyes were soft, filled with a mixture of amusement and affection, as he observed your carefree demeanor.

“don’t get into the water!” he called out, his voice stern but laced with a hint of humor. “you might get soaked and catch a cold!” satoru, meanwhile, continued to gather your belongings, his head shaking slightly, “as if that’ll stop her,” he muttered, a smirk on his lips.

you ignored suguru's warning and continued darting across the sand. the cool night air was invigorating, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore only amplified the rush of excitement bubbling within you.

satoru finally caught up to you, his long strides quickly closing the distance. he playfully grabbed you around the waist, pulling you to a stop. “slow down, baby,” he teased, his voice light, “you’ll run yourself ragged.”

you let out a playful whine as satoru pulled you to a stop, your attempt to continue forward halfhearted. “you’re spoiling the fun,” you complained, though there was no heat behind your words. suguru, catching up to the two of you, rolled his eyes in amusement. “yeah, because getting yourself exhausted and collapsing on the beach sounds like so much fun,” he retorted, his voice laced with dry sarcasm.

satoru chuckled, his arms still wrapped loosely around your waist, holding you in place. “yeah, and us having to drag your sleepy, exhausted butt back to the car sounds like a blast.” suguru couldn’t help but join in on the teasing, his mocking comment adding to the banter. “not to mention the sand you'll undoubtedly get all over the car.”

you let out an annoyed sigh, rolling your eyes at their teasing. “both of you suck,” you muttered, your voice laced with mock irritation as you tried to wriggle out of satoru's hold, but he only tightened his grip, chuckling softly against your ear.

suguru's eyebrow raised, a wicked glint in his eyes as he caught sight of your mock irritation. “aww, is someone getting grumpy because we're trying to look out for her?” he taunted, moving closer to you. satoru, still holding you captive in his arms, snickered, his breath warm against your ear, “can't handle a bit of teasing, princess? aren't you supposed to be having fun?”

you shot suguru a pointed look, clearly annoyed by his teasing. “well, i can’t, because you two decided to be party poopers and won’t let me,” you retorted, trying to sound more exasperated than you actually were.

satoru playfully squeezed you tighter, his chin resting on your shoulder. “ahh, the struggles of being loved and cared for,” he mused sarcastically, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. suguru chuckled, his eyes glimmering with amusement. “yeah, we're such buzzkills, thinking about your well-being and everything.”

you leaned back into satoru’s chest, your mock irritation giving way to a subtle sense of comfort. as annoying as their overprotectiveness could be at times, deep down, you appreciated their concern. but there was no way you'd ever admit it aloud. suguru took a step closer, a sly grin on his lips as he closed in on you. “don’t worry, princess. we’ll find a way to entertain you without letting you exhaust yourself to death.”

you huffed, your annoyance slowly melting away under their affectionate banter. you knew both of them well enough to recognize that they were only teasing and that their words came from a place of concern. “more like paranoid worrywarts,” you muttered, a hint of a pout on your lips, “can't you just let me enjoy the beach without being mother hens all the time?”

satoru chuckled, his arms still wrapped tight around your waist. “oh, sweetheart, as if we have any control over our protective instincts when it comes to you.”

suguru couldn't help but chime in as well, his tall figure now standing directly beside you. “we just want to make sure you're safe and sound. even from the dangers of... sand,” he said, his voice dripping with mock seriousness.

you groaned, rolling your eyes at their overprotective antics. “oh, come on, i swear i'll be careful. i’m not going to the water,” you said, trying to sound as exasperated as possible. satoru gave you a gentle squeeze, his chin resting against your shoulder. “aww, look at her, trying to convince us that she'll behave,” he teased.

suguru chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “yeah, and how many times have we heard that before only to find her doing exactly what we warned her not to do?”

you let out a frustrated hum, feeling your patience thin as their overprotectiveness continued. “i wanna go home,” you mumbled, your tone carrying a hint of annoyance. satoru's arms around your waist loosened slightly as he heard your words. he could hear the genuine irritation in your tone and knew better than to push your limits. suguru, too, seemed to pick up on your annoyance, a hint of concern flitting across his features.

“hey, hey, hey,” satoru crooned, his voice softer now, “we don't have to go back yet, alright? we can find something else to do here.” you mumbled, still feeling a bit down, “i’m not in the mood now,” as you looked down at the wet sand, absentmindedly playing with it using your feet.

suguru and satoru exchanged an almost telepathic glance, their expressions shifting from playful teasing to genuine worry. they could sense that your mood had genuinely taken a hit and they knew they had pushed you a bit too far.

suguru stepped closer, his hand coming to rest gently on your shoulder. “hey,” he said softly, “we didn't mean to ruin your fun. we just...” suguru's voice trailed off, unable to find the right words. you continued to look at the sand, your toes absentmindedly sifting through it. “yeah, it’s okay, whatever,” you said quietly, your tone suggesting that you were still feeling a bit off.

satoru and suguru continued to exchange glances, their expressions turning more serious by the moment. seeing you in this state, even though it was their fault, caused a pang of guilt and regret in their hearts. satoru was the first to break the silence, his voice uncharacteristically softer than usual. “baby...”

suguru, not one to shy away from expressing his feelings, spoke up next, his hand still resting gently on your shoulder, “hey, princess, we're sorry.“

their apology hung in the air, the weight of their words conveying the sincerity behind them. they genuinely felt bad for pushing your buttons and spoiling your mood.

satoru, still standing behind you, gently spun you around so that you faced him. his eyes met yours, his expression a mix of remorse and tenderness. “yeah, we didn’t mean to kill your vibe. we were just... being dumbasses,” he admitted, his tone laced with regret.

you didn't look up, still focused on the sand beneath your feet. deep down, you knew you were being a bit petty and unreasonable, but your frustration and annoyance were getting the better of you.

satoru gently pulled you back against him, his arms wrapping loosely around your waist. “look, we're sorry, alright? we didn't mean to piss you off. we just...” suguru's hand squeezed your shoulder, silently echoing satoru's words, “we just want to keep you safe, that's all.”

satoru's chin found its usual spot on your shoulder, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke. “we just... we worry about you, princess, you know that. sometimes we go a bit overboard in trying to protect you, and we forget that you're not a fragile doll that needs constant watch over.”

suguru, standing beside you, added his thoughts in a more direct manner, “yeah, we just care about you too damn much, alright? but that doesn't give us an excuse to ruin your night.” you sighed softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you said, “i don't wanna be in here anymore, i wanna go home.” the excitement you had felt earlier had completely drained away, leaving you feeling deflated and upset.

both satoru and suguru were stunned into a brief silence at your words. they could see the disappointment and upset etched on your face, and it left them feeling even more remorseful for letting the night take this turn.

“hey, okay. we'll go home. we'll go home,” suguru said quietly, his hand on your shoulder giving a gentle squeeze. satoru, still holding you from behind, tightened his embrace around your waist. his voice was low and soft as he leaned in to speak into your ear. “we'll get you home, baby. we're sorry.”

as you quietly stepped toward the car, both satoru and suguru remained somber, their minds weighed down by the evening's turn of events. but then, out of nowhere, you grabbed a clump of wet seaweed and launched it straight at satoru's face, another piece landing perfectly on suguru's head. their stunned expressions were priceless.

you couldn’t help but burst into laughter, your previous sadness momentarily forgotten. “but catch me if you can first, bitch!” you shouted playfully, already sprinting down the beach, your laughter echoing in the night air.

satoru and suguru were caught completely off guard as the wet seaweed splattered onto them, the cold, slimy texture clinging to satoru's face and suguru's head. they stood there, stunned for a split second, before the realization of what just happened sank in.

satoru blinked, wiping the seaweed off his face, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement. “you little— oh, you’re so dead for that!” he called out, his voice filled with mock anger as he started after you.

suguru shook his head, seaweed dangling from his hair as he let out a hearty laugh. “you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he shouted, joining satoru in the chase, both of them determined to catch up with you. you were already several paces ahead, laughing as you sprinted toward the beach, your earlier sadness completely forgotten in the thrill of the moment.

satoru and suguru moved with incredible speed, their long legs eating up the distance between them and your fleeing figure. as they ran, they could hear your laughter bouncing off the night air, the sound both annoying and endearing at the same time. suguru, his voice slightly out of breath but filled with determination, called after you. “you think you can outrun us, princess?”

satoru chimed in, a playful smirk on his lips. “you’re forgetting that we’re superhuman freaks when it comes to speed, baby. there's no escaping us!”

your heart pounded in your chest as you saw them gaining on you. you pushed yourself to run even faster, the cool night air whipping past your face.

“fuck!” you screamed, your laughter bubbling up again despite the adrenaline rush. you glanced over your shoulder, seeing their determined expressions, which only made you laugh harder. the thrill of the chase had your pulse racing, even if you knew they’d catch you eventually.

satoru and suguru were closing in, their strides determined and relentless. they were gaining ground with every second, their superhuman speed giving them an advantage you couldn't match for long.

suguru's voice carried over the sound of the crashing waves, filled with determination and amusement. “you’re not getting away, princess. we're gonna catch you sooner or later!” satoru couldn't help but add his own taunt as they drew closer. “you're fast, but we're faster. give up already, baby. you can't win this race!”

you saw the mischievous grin on satoru's face as he twirled the seaweed in his hand, his eyes gleaming with playful menace. your fake apology didn't fool him or suguru for a second—they knew you too well.

“fuck, i'm sorry!” you yelled, but the laughter in your voice betrayed you.

satoru chuckled darkly, “oh, you’re gonna be sorry when i get you!”

you pushed your legs to run faster, but their footsteps were getting closer. the thrill of the chase only fueled your laughter, knowing they wouldn’t let you get away without some playful revenge.

satoru and suguru were now hot on your heels, their breathing slightly labored but their determination unwavering. the gap between you had narrowed considerably, their long strides making up the distance with ease.

suguru's voice, filled with a mix of mock irritation and amusement, called out behind you. “don't think saying you’re sorry will save you now, princess.” satoru echoed his comment, a smirk on his face. “yeah, you're going to pay for that little seaweed stunt. better start bracing yourself for your punishment!”

you skidded to a stop, quickly scooping up a handful of wet seaweed from the sand. your heart raced with excitement as you prepared to launch it at them, a wide grin spreading across your face.

“come on, boys, you want some more?” you taunted, your arm cocked back, ready to throw.

satoru and suguru were almost upon you, their hands reaching out to grab you, but you were quick, ducking and weaving out of their grasp while still holding your ammunition. “think you can dodge us forever?” suguru called out, his tone playful yet determined. with a laugh, you threw the seaweed at them, catching satoru on the shoulder.

satoru yelped as the seaweed hit his shoulder, his expression momentarily stunned before a cheeky grin spread across his face.

suguru burst into laughter as he watched you duck and weave out of their grasp. he shook his head, a mixture of amusement and admiration lighting up his eyes. “you're relentless, you know that?”

satoru brushed the seaweed off his shoulder, his eyes narrowing in playful determination. “oh, now you've done it. you just signed up for some serious payback, baby.” just as you tried to dodge again, satoru’s long arms finally wrapped around you, pulling you back toward him. “gotcha!” he exclaimed triumphantly, holding you tight while suguru came up to help pin you down.

your laughter echoed through the night, knowing you’d be in for whatever playful revenge they had in mind next. gojo swung your body slightly as he held you against his chest, laughing.

satoru and suguru were both breathing heavily from their chase as they finally caught you, satoru holding you tightly against him while suguru stood beside you. their hands held you firmly in place, making it impossible for you to escape.

satoru's laugh filled the air as he held you against him, his body still buzzing from the adrenaline. “you little brat,“ he mused, his voice tinged with mock annoyance. “you thought you could outmaneuver us, but we got you anyway.”

you covered your face with your hands, feeling the seaweed slipping through your fingers as you tried to shield yourself from the inevitable. your laughter was muffled, but the joy and mischief were still evident as you squirmed in satoru's grasp, trying to wiggle free. “suguru, no!” you managed to gasp between laughs, peeking through your fingers to see him holding the seaweed with a wicked grin.

“oh, yes,” suguru teased, slowly approaching with the seaweed in hand, “you’ve had your fun, now it’s our turn.” you wriggled harder, your laughter turning into a mixture of giggles and mock pleas as you tried to escape, but satoru’s hold on you was firm.

satoru chuckled, his arms holding you tight against him as you squirmed and laughed in his grasp. he could feel the tension in your body as you tried to shield yourself from the inevitable seaweed attack.

suguru approached with a wicked grin, holding the seaweed in his hand. his eyes gleamed with amusement as he taunted you, “oh, you're not going anywhere, princess.”

together, satoru and suguru began to tease you with the seaweed, gently tickling you with it and laughing as you squirmed and giggled in vain attempts to escape. you let out a playful scream, “not my hair!” as you squirmed even more, desperately trying to dodge the tickling seaweed. your laughter echoed through the air, blending with satoru and suguru’s as they continued their teasing assault.

satoru chuckled, his grip on you unwavering as he teased, “oh, now you’re worried about your hair? too late, princess!”

suguru, equally amused, waved the seaweed close to your head with exaggerated slowness, drawing out your mock panic. “don't worry, we'll make sure it's styled perfectly,” he joked. your giggles turned into full-blown laughter as you struggled, your hair becoming their main target.

your struggles and laughter only made satoru and suguru more determined to tease you further. they continued to wave the seaweed playfully over your head, their grins widening with each sound that escaped your lips.

satoru's voice was filled with false seriousness as he declared, “we’re just trying to give you that beach-chic look, princess.” suguru chimed in, his own voice laced with laughter, “yeah, you know, tousled and windblown. the perfect look for a night at the beach!”

with a triumphant laugh, suguru carefully wrapped the long piece of seaweed around your neck, making it look like a ridiculous, slimy scarf. satoru, still holding you tightly against his chest, couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the sight.

“there we go,” satoru teased, his voice filled with amusement, “a perfect accessory for our little troublemaker.”

suguru stepped back to admire their handiwork, a satisfied grin on his face. “you’re rocking that look, princess. very avant-garde,” he joked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

you couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a mix of exasperation and amusement. “you two are the worst,” you muttered, but your grin betrayed how much fun you were actually having. both satoru and suguru chuckled at your comment, clearly enjoying themselves immensely as they teased you. satoru's arms held you tightly against him, while suguru stood back admiring his handy work.

satoru smirked, his voice playful. “oh, come on, princess. you know you love it when we give you a makeover.”

suguru chimed in, his tone full of mock seriousness. “yeah, we're just your fashion consultants for the night. seaweed is the hottest accessory this season, you know.” you rolled your eyes dramatically, but a small, reluctant smile tugged at your lips as you played along. “if this is what you call a makeover, i think i need to fire my stylists,” you quipped, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably as your laughter broke through.

satoru and suguru exchanged a quick, mischievous glance, their eyes lighting up with a new idea. before you could even react, satoru tightened his grip around your waist, and suguru grabbed your legs.

“wait, no—!” you barely managed to protest before they hoisted you off the ground. with a shared laugh, they swung you towards the water, ignoring your playful struggles. “time for a swim, princess!” satoru declared.

and with that, they tossed you into the shallow waves, the cold water splashing around you as you landed with a squeal.

satoru and suguru burst into laughter as they tossed you into the cool water. they stood a few feet away, their eyes gleaming with amusement as they watched you splash and flail in the shallow waves. suguru called out to you, his voice filled with a hint of mischief. “how's the water, princess? a little cold, i bet!”

satoru added, still laughing, “yeah, we figured we'd give you a nice, refreshing rinse. gotta make sure you're clean after our little seaweed fashion session!”

both satoru and suguru stood near the edge of the water, their jeans soaked from the splash. their expressions mixed between amusement and concern as they watched you stand up, shaking off the water.

you looked up at them with a playful scowl, ready to unleash your mock fury. “oh, you’re assholes,” you grumbled, but before you could make a move, a wave caught you off guard.

you stumbled and fell, the water rising up around you as you landed with a splash. your laughter mingled with the sound of the waves, the playful battle now turned into a full-on water fight as you tried to regain your footing, grinning up at them despite your soggy predicament.

satoru and suguru couldn't help but burst into laughter once again as they saw you stumble and fall back into the water. they watched as you tried to regain your footing, still spluttering and laughing despite the now sopping wet state.

suguru called out to you, his voice filled with mock taunting, “looks like you're the one who needs a rinse now, princess!”

satoru echoed his sentiment, his own laughter joining in, “yeah, might as well dive back in and make the most of it, baby!” you managed to find your footing and, with a mischievous grin, reached out to grab both satoru and suguru. you pulled them into the water with a forceful splash, their surprised yelps merging with your laughter.

as they tumbled into the shallow waves, you stood over them, pointing and laughing. “who’s the loser now?” you taunted, your laughter ringing out as they floundered in the water, their once smug expressions now replaced with wide-eyed surprise.

satoru and suguru let out surprised yelps as you yanked them into the water with you. they stumbled and tripped, ending up on their butts in the shallow waves before you.

they sat there, disoriented and soaking wet, before glancing up at you with matching looks of mock shock. satoru brushed the hair from his eyes, his voice filled with exaggerated indignance, “you little sneak!”

suguru was equally surprised but couldn't help a laugh escaping. “oh, princess, you don't fight fair!”

you snorted, your grin widening as you looked down at them. “oh honey, everything is fair in love and war,” you replied, your tone playful and unapologetic. satoru chuckled, his eyes narrowing with playful determination. “fine, if it's a war you want, princess, you got it.”

he suddenly lunged at you, trying to grab your ankle and pull you back down into the water. suguru followed right behind, his own competitive gleam in his eyes. the three of you splashed and laughed as you all grappled and wrestled in the shallow waves. it was a playful and lighthearted battle, each of you trying to get the upper hand on the others.

satoru and suguru tried to knock you off balance, their eyes sparkling with amusement. “no escaping us now, princess!” they taunted, their voices a mix of mock seriousness and laughter. you tumbled between them with a splash, falling into the shallow water where satoru and suguru were sitting. you laughed as you hit the water, the cold waves mixing with your giggles.

satoru grinned at you, his eyes alight with mischief. “gotcha!” suguru chuckled, joining in on the teasing, “yeah, you're not getting away this time, princess.”

satoru reached out and pinched your side, playfully tickling you as he and suguru both laughed at your predicament. “you really thought you could knock us both down and walk away unscathed, huh?”

you let out a squeal as satoru's tickling fingers found their mark, wriggling and laughing as you tried to fend him off. suguru’s arm around your waist, pressing your back against his hard chest, provided a comforting anchor as you sat between them, their playful banter and laughter adding to the fun.

“you two are impossible,” you managed to say between giggles, resting against suguru’s side. the warmth of their presence and the playful splashing made you forget all about the earlier frustration, enjoying the carefree moment with them.

satoru chuckled, his fingers still dancing over your skin as he continued his playful attack. “oh, you love it, princess,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief. suguru, his arm still wrapped around your waist, added, “yeah, you can't deny how much fun this is.”

the three of you sat there in the shallow waves, the water slicking across your skin and the moon shining down from above. satoru's hand slowed its tickling, his touch now becoming more affectionate, “we just can't resist teasing you, baby.”

you leaned in close to satoru, catching him off guard with a sudden kiss. his eyes widened in surprise, and the tickling stopped as he melted into the kiss. suguru, watching the interaction, couldn’t help but smile warmly, his arm still around your waist.

as you pulled away, you saw satoru’s stunned but pleased expression. “there, now you’re quiet,” you said with a mischievous grin, finally feeling victorious in your playful battle. satoru blinked, his face still flushed from the unexpected kiss. he tried to form a snarky response, but his brain didn't seem to be functioning at the moment. suguru chuckled knowingly, clearly enjoying the effect you had on satoru.

satoru finally managed to speak, his voice somewhat dazed. “well, that's definitely one way to shut me up, princess.” suguru chimed in, his smile widening, “you know how to keep us on our toes, that's for sure.”

you turned your face towards suguru, a playful glint in your eyes as you teased, “you need to shut up too.” before he could react, you closed the distance between you, capturing his lips in a kiss. his surprise melted into a smile, and he responded with equal affection. the playful atmosphere continued as you pulled away, satisfied with your ability to keep both of them on their toes.

suguru's eyes widened for a moment as you caught him off guard with a kiss, but then he smiled, returning the affection with equal intensity. satoru, his earlier surprise slowly wearing off, watched the two of you with a mix of amusement and envy.

as you pulled away, satoru couldn't help but chime in, a hint of playful annoyance in his voice. “hey, what about me? i can be quiet too, you know!”

you let out a small, playful shiver as you replied with a teasing smile, “oh, I’m sorry, did you want a kiss too?” you leaned in towards satoru, your lips brushing against his as you gave him a quick, teasing peck. the cold made your lips tremble slightly, but you pulled back with a satisfied grin. “there, happy now?”

satoru rolled his eyes in a mock annoyance, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “well, that was hardly a proper kiss,“ he complained, his voice filled with mock disappointment.

suguru chuckled beside you, his arm around your waist still warm and comforting. “don't be greedy, satoru,” he teased. “you already got more than enough attention tonight.” you nodded in agreement with suguru, lips and body still trembling from the cold.

suguru noticed your shivering and tightened his arm around your waist, drawing you closer in an attempt to stop the tremors. “you're cold, aren't you, princess?” he said, his voice filled with concern. satoru, noticing your body trembling as well, added, “yeah, we should probably get you out of here before you freeze, baby.”

satoru's fingers worked to gently remove the seaweed from your neck, his touch soft and tender. he chuckled at the state you had gotten yourself into, his eyes sparkling with affection. “ugh, you're such a messy girl,” he murmured, his words tinted with mock frustration. "always finding ways to end up soaked and covered in seaweed. what are we going to do with you, huh?“

suguru's arm remained around your waist, the warmth of his touch providing some comfort against the cold. he chuckled softly at satoru's comments, his body pressed against yours. “yeah, you seem to have a knack for getting into these situations, princess,” he teased, his tone affectionate, “always ending up in trouble and need of rescuing.”

as the three of you tried to get out of the water, your bare feet shuffled across the sandy ocean floor. without warning, you stepped on a sharp shell buried beneath the surface. “aw!” a sharp jolt of pain shot up through your foot, and you winced, stumbling slightly. instinctively, you lifted your foot from the sand and saw the blood oozing from the cut.

suguru's eyes immediately dropped to your injury, and his expression shifted from playful to serious in an instant. he sighed, his shoulders drooping slightly as he shook his head. the gentle amusement that had been present in his voice earlier was replaced by a more exasperated tone. “see?” he said, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and concern.

satoru, noticing the change in suguru's demeanor, quickly moved closer. his playful smirk had vanished, replaced by a look of genuine worry. he crouched down beside you, his fingers delicately touching your wounded foot. “damn, that looks painful,” he said softly, his voice now gentle and soothing, “we need to get you taken care of.”

satoru's expression shifted from playful teasing to concern as he noticed your wince and the blood on your foot. suguru, his own concern evident, let out a small sigh as he noticed the cut.

“ah, you've done it again, princess,” he teased, his voice mixed with a hint of worry. satoru quickly knelt down, gently inspecting the wound. “we can't take you anywhere, can we?” he joked, but his eyes reflected his worry for you, “are you alright, baby? does it hurt bad?”

suguru stepped closer, the playful atmosphere that had been surrounding you all just a moment ago now replaced by an air of concern. he looked down at the wound on your foot, his expression serious. “you always manage to get into trouble, don't you?” he mumbled, his voice tinged with gentle disapproval.

satoru's fingers gently touched your foot, assessing the cut. he looked up at you with a mixture of worry and affection. “how bad is it, baby? can you walk?”

you mumbled an apologetic “sorry” through your winces, trying to manage the pain. glancing at satoru, you forced a small smile and said, “i can walk with one foot,” your voice trembling slightly from the discomfort. despite the pain, you tried to put on a brave face, determined not to let it ruin the moment completely.

satoru and suguru exchanged a quick glance as they saw the pain etched on your face. suguru's eyes filled with concern as he spoke. “don't apologize, princess,” he assured you, his voice gentle, “you didn't do anything wrong.”

satoru, looking at your attempted smile, couldn't hide the concern in his eyes. “no way are you walking on this,” he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument, “we're not letting you further injure yourself.”

satoru helped you carefully out of the water, guiding you slowly toward the shore. suguru stayed close by, his expression a mix of concern and frustration as he watched the situation unfold.

“wait here,” satoru said to suguru, his voice steady as he glanced back. “i’ll grab the first aid kit from the car.”

with that, satoru headed off toward the vehicle, his pace quick and purposeful. suguru remained at your side, his hand gently resting on your shoulder to offer support.

suguru helped you settle down on the sand, carefully making sure you were comfortable despite the discomfort from your injury. he sat beside you, keeping an eye on the approaching satoru.

“try to stay still,” suguru said softly, his voice soothing. he gave you a gentle smile as he softly caressed your wet hair, “we’ll get you patched up in no time, okay?” as satoru jogged away, suguru stayed beside you, his hand gently running through your wet hair. he made sure you were comfortable, his touch gentle and calming.

“easy there,” he murmured as you shifted your injured foot. “don’t move it too much, okay? we need to keep it as still as possible until satoru gets back with the first-aid kit.” he sat beside you, his eyes scanning over the cut, his voice filled with concern. “how are you feeling, princess? the pain subsiding a little?”

you gave him a small, pained smile, your eyes still a bit damp from the water. “yeah, it’s not too bad,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the discomfort. “just a bit sore. thanks for staying with me, suguru.”

you leaned into his side slightly, appreciating his presence and the warmth of his hand in your hair. “i’m sorry for causing trouble tonight.” knowing that they already warned you about getting hurt and here you are..

suguru smiled slightly, his expression a mix of affection and concern. “don't apologize, princess. you didn't do anything wrong. accidents happen, and we're just glad we can help take care of you.”

he continued to run his fingers through your hair, the gesture calming and reassuring. “and don't worry about causing trouble. it's just part of your charm, after all.” suguru looked up as satoru returned from the vehicle, first-aid kit in hand. “ah, here he comes. we'll have you patched up in no time, princess.”

satoru quickly returned from the vehicle, his hands carrying the first-aid kit. he knelt down next to you, his expression a mix of concern and relief. “i got the first aid kit, princess.” he gently opened the kit, sifting through the various supplies until he found what he was looking for. he grabbed a clean cloth and a bottle of antiseptic, his movements efficient and focused. “this might sting a bit,” he warned, his voice gentle, “but we need to clean the wound to prevent any infection.”

satoru knelt down beside you, his hands already rummaging through the first aid kit. his movements were quick and purposeful as he grabbed a cloth and a bottle of antiseptic, clearly determined to take care of your injury.

“alright, this might hurt a bit but we need to keep it clean to prevent any infection,” he said, his voice soft and gentle. “hold still, princess.” he carefully applied the antiseptic to the cloth, his touch gentle yet firm as he began cleaning the cut.

you flinched slightly at the sting of the antiseptic but tried to remain still, focusing on satoru’s soothing voice. “oh fuck,” you murmured through a wince, appreciating his careful and attentive care. you glanced up at him with a faint smile, grateful for his attention and the way he was taking care of you.

satoru chuckled softly at your whispered curse, his eyes never leaving the cut as he continued to clean it. “just hang in there, princess,” he teased, his voice light. “i know it stings, but it's almost done.” as he worked, he reached out with his free hand to gently caress your cheek, his touch warm and reassuring.

you chuckled softly as you saw the intense concentration on satoru’s face, finding his focus endearing. “you’re so focused, it’s adorable,” you said, your voice light with affection. as you reached up, you gently picked the seaweed out of his hair, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “and you’ve got seaweed in your hair, too.”

satoru glanced up at you, his expression shifting from intense concentration to amusement as you picked the seaweed out of his hair. “ah, of course you would notice that,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with laughter, “can't get anything past you, princess,” he continued, his tone lighthearted. he applied a final wipe of antiseptic before letting out a small sigh, “there we go, all cleaned up.”

he looked down at the cut, his eyes assessing it closely to ensure everything was cleaned up properly. he then grabbed a small roll of gauze and a few pieces of adhesive tape from the first aid kit. “now, let's get you wrapped up,” he murmured, his voice low and caring, “hopefully this'll keep you from hurting yourself again for a little while.”

you gave a sheepish smile, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. “thanks, baby,” you said, trying to lighten the mood. you looked up at him, appreciating the care he was taking with your injury. “i promise I’ll try not to cause any more accidents tonight.”

satoru chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement as he began wrapping your foot, his fingers agile and precise. “yeah, you better not,” he teased, his voice light. “i don't think my heart can handle any more of your unexpected injuries tonight. try to be a little more careful, princess, for my sake, alright?”

you nodded, giving him a small, grateful smile. “okay, i’ll be more careful,” you said softly. “thanks for taking care of me, ’toru.” satoru smiled at your words, his expression gentle and affectionate. “of course, princess. we'll always take care of you,” he reassured.

suguru, who had been watching silently, chimed in with a nod. “yeah, we've got you,” he added, his voice filled with warmth, “no matter what trouble you manage to find yourself in.”

with expert precision, satoru finished wrapping your injured foot. he stood up, offering his hand to you as he spoke. “there you go, all taken care of,” he said, his voice filled with a hint of pride, “you think you can stand, princess?”

you took his hand and tried to stand, carefully putting weight on your wrapped foot. “yeah, i can,” you said, testing your balance. the wrap felt secure, and with satoru's support, you managed to stay upright and suguru's hands around your waist.

both satoru and suguru hovered around you, ready to catch you if you stumbled. suguru's hands were gentle but firm around your waist, his touch reassuring.

“easy there, princess,” suguru warned, his voice calming. “don't put too much weight on that foot just yet.” satoru nodded in agreement, his eyes never leaving your face, his voice filled with concern. “take it slow, okay? we don't want you hurting yourself again.”

you nodded, appreciating their careful guidance as they helped you back to the car. “thanks, baby,” you said, your voice grateful. you moved slowly, mindful of your injured foot, feeling their supportive presence every step of the way.

satoru and suguru walked beside you, their steps slow and purposeful to match your pace. they remained close, ready to catch you if you lost balance.

suguru's arm wrapped around your waist, his hand resting on your hip, providing steady support. satoru stayed on the other side, his hand on your shoulder, offering extra stability. “just take your time, princess,” suguru murmured, his voice gentle and reassuring, “we're not in a hurry.”

you squeezed suguru's hand gently, a silent gesture of gratitude for both of them. their support made you feel safe and cared for, and you couldn’t help but smile softly despite the situation.

when you reached the car, satoru was quick to stash the first aid kit in the trunk and pull out suguru's hoodie. without a word, he draped it over your shoulders, his touch warm and considerate. “here, princess,” he said softly, helping you into the hoodie. “we can't have you catching a cold on top of everything else.”

you slipped your arms into the sleeves, feeling the warmth of suguru's hoodie enveloping you. the soft fabric was a comfort against the cool night air, and you felt a deep sense of affection for them both. “thanks,” you murmured, your voice filled with appreciation as you leaned into the warmth.

as you slid into suguru's hoodie, the warmth of the fabric settled over you, a comfortable and familiar presence. satoru smiled, clearly pleased to see you cozy and comfortable.

“no problem, princess,” he replied, his voice warm. “we can't have you getting cold on top of everything else.” suguru stepped up beside him, his eyes flickering over your form as you adjusted the hoodie. his expression was soft, a mixture of affection and concern. “you look cute in that,” he observed, his voice low and fond.

you blushed slightly at his words, a small smile playing on your lips. before you could respond, suguru leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. the tender gesture filled you with warmth, easing the discomfort from your injury.

suguru then opened the backseat door for you, his hand resting on your back as he helped you inside. “let's get you home,” he murmured, his voice filled with quiet determination. you nodded, feeling secure and cared for as the three of you prepared to head home.

satoru and suguru settled you comfortably in the back seat, their attention to detail ensuring you were as comfortable as possible. suguru slipped into the driver's seat, while satoru took the passenger side next to him.

the drive home started in a comfortable silence, the soft hum of the car engine filling the air. suguru glanced at you in the rearview mirror, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and affection. “how are you feeling back there, princess?” he asked, his voice laced with worry. “the hoodie keeping you warm?”

you snuggled deeper into suguru’s hoodie, the warmth and familiar scent calming your nerves. you nodded, offering a small smile even though he couldn’t see it clearly from the front seat. “i’m okay,” you replied softly, your voice a little tired but content. “the hoodie’s perfect, thank you.”

satoru turned slightly in his seat to look at you, his eyes filled with concern. “good,” he murmured, his tone lighter now that he knew you were comfortable. “we’ll be home soon, just relax.”

you nodded again, your eyes beginning to droop as the gentle motion of the car and the warmth of the hoodie started to lull you into a peaceful state. “thanks, both of you,“ you whispered, your gratitude evident even as you fought to keep your eyes open. their presence made you feel safe, and you let yourself drift off, knowing you were in good hands.

as you whispered your thanks, satoru and suguru exchanged a quick glance in the front seats. their expressions softened slightly, seeing you drift off. suguru focused on the road, his hands firmly on the wheel. “she's falling asleep,” he noted quietly, his voice filled with a mix of concern and affection.

satoru let out a small sigh, turning back to look at you again. the sight of you bundled up in suguru's hoodie, drifting off peacefully, filled him with a pang of protectiveness. “yeah,” he agreed, his voice soft.

satoru glanced at suguru, his expression serious despite the softness in his eyes. “drive slow, suguru,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “doesn’t matter how long it takes to get home—just don’t wake her.”

satoru turned back to look at you again, watching as you slept peacefully in the back seat. a small, protective smile tugged at his lips as he settled back into his seat, making sure you stayed undisturbed. the car moved gently down the road, each bump and turn handled with care, all for the sake of keeping you in your peaceful slumber.

suguru nodded silently in response to satoru's quiet request. he slowed down even further, driving with extra care to minimize any bumps or jerks that could disturb your sleep.

a comfortable silence filled the car as they continued on their way home. suguru's eyes flickered occasionally to the rearview mirror, checking on you in the back. satoru, meanwhile, sat quietly, his gaze occasionally shifting to you as well. their shared concern for your comfort and wellbeing was palpable in the air.

the journey continued, each mile passing by slowly and carefully as suguru continued to drive with the utmost caution.

every now and then, satoru would turn to look at you, checking to make sure you were still sleeping soundly. his expression softened each time he glanced at you, his concern and affection visible in the gentle way he watched you. the car finally pulled into the driveway, coming to a soft stop in front of the house. both suguru and satoru turned to look at you once again, their eyes filled with a mixture of relief and tenderness.

“we're home,” suguru said softly, his voice deliberately low to avoid disturbing you. satoru unbuckled his seatbelt, his eyes still on your form in the back seat. “let's get her inside,” he breathed, his voice tinged with a mix of worry and concern.

suguru nodded in agreement, also unbuckling his seatbelt. both of them got out of the car and cautiously opened the back door, their movements slow and measured to minimize any disturbance to your sleep.

suguru gently slipped his arms under you, lifting you carefully from the back seat. your head rolled onto his shoulder, your breath warm against his neck.

satoru stood by his side, a steady presence as suguru cradled you in his arms. they exchanged a look, silently sharing their concern for your comfort and wellbeing. with their steps slow and deliberate, they carried you towards the house.

as they reached the bedroom, suguru carefully laid you down on the bed, his movements gentle to avoid waking you. he watched as your head nestled into the pillow, a small, peaceful sigh escaping your lips. satoru, ever attentive, had already retrieved your pajamas.

satoru approached the bed, a pair of your pajamas held in his hands. he set the clothes down on the nearby chair, then approached the bed where you lay sleeping.

suguru stood by the bed, his gaze fixed on your sleeping form. his expression was filled with a mixture of tenderness and concern, a quiet guardian watching over you. satoru leaned down, his voice barely above a whisper. “we need to get her changed and out of these clothes,” he murmured to suguru.

with a glance at suguru, they silently agreed on their next steps. satoru carefully began to help you out of the damp clothes, his hands moving with delicate precision. suguru stood by, ready to assist, his gaze never leaving your face to ensure you stayed asleep.

satoru worked slowly, his touch feather-light as he changed you into the warm, dry pajamas. he was extra careful, his heart aching at the thought of you catching a cold. once done, he adjusted the blankets around you, tucking you in with a tenderness that spoke volumes of his concern.

as satoru finished changing you into your pajamas, suguru watched silently, his eyes soft with affection at the way satoru took care of you. once you were comfortable and tucked in, satoru stepped back, his gaze lingering on your face.

suguru reached out, gently smoothing a strand of hair off your forehead. “she's okay,” he said softly, his words more a statement of reassurance for himself than anything else. suguru leaned down and brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering for a moment. “sleep well, princess,” he whispered, his voice soft and full of warmth. satoru nodded in agreement, pulling the covers snug around you one last time before they both stepped back, satisfied that you were comfortable and safe.

they stood by the bed for a moment longer, both of them watching you sleep with expressions of tenderness and concern.

suguru's eyes flickering over you once more, his gaze filled with a mixture of appreciation and worry. satoru's hand reached out, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek. “she looks so peaceful,” he murmured, a small smile on his lips.

satoru's fingers lingered on your cheek for a moment longer before he let out a soft sigh. "she really does," he whispered, his voice filled with a quiet admiration. then, his gaze shifted to suguru, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

wrapping his arm around suguru's waist, he pulled him a little closer, the warmth of his touch comforting. “we need to take a shower first before joining her,” satoru said softly, his tone gentle but firm, “we can't crawl into bed all sandy and wet.”

suguru nodded in agreement, his eyes still on you, but he allowed satoru to guide him towards the bathroom. as they left the room, satoru glanced back at you one last time, his heart full of affection and protectiveness.

the bathroom door closed quietly behind them, satoru gently guiding suguru towards the shower.

as satoru turned on the water, the sound of the shower echoed through the bathroom. he waited for the water to warm up before he began disrobing, his movements efficient and quick.

suguru followed suit, shedding his clothes, his eyes flickering towards the bedroom door occasionally, his thoughts clearly still on you.

[pluto-on-mars]

“Its always been you”

I wrote this for a friend, but I decided to post so enjoy Rodrick Heffley fucking you in a bathroom folks. Also if anyone wants to commission anything HIT ME UP!

Rodrick Heffley x AFAB! reader (18+ Minors DNI)

Includes: Fingering (f! receiving), drunk sex, p in v

Word count: 2,567

The party was loud, the atmosphere thick with fun and desperation, which of the two you were was lost to you as you crept through the hallways, drunken bodies pressed against you and almost spilling what was left in your solo cup.

You were trying to find your friend, a common thing that seems to happen to you despite your attempts to get it to stop. But ever the lover boy, Rodrick always got swept up in the crowd once Heather Hills was spotted, leaving you in the shadow of her spotlight. You knew this was going to happen, and you didn’t even want to go to this stupid party!

Rodrick could be terribly convincing when he wanted to be, unfortunately, promises to stay with you this time spilling from his pretty lips, and you couldn’t do anything but say yes. It was stupid, you were stupid, having a crush on a boy who didn’t necessarily want nothing to do with you, but he certainly didn’t want you in that way.

Stepping into the kitchen, you found who you were looking for, and you downed the rest of your drink as a result. It was the same as always, Rodrick trying, and failing, to impress Heather, but it was still a sight you couldn’t bear to see.

“ ‘Scuse me.” You grumbled, trying to reach the liquor that resided behind the pair.

“ Oh sorr-heyyyyy whatsup?” Rodrick, clearly drunk, slurred out once he recognized it was you.

“ Same as always.” You couldn’t help but be a little snippy, already having talked about how you didn’t like how he just left your side at a party, especially one that he convinced you to go to.

“ Oh-Heather wait!” He scurried past you, flashing you a smile as he chased the “girl of his dreams”.

Arguably a little bit too pissed off at how he left you again, you poured yourself another drink after taking a shot. Maybe it was a bad decision, trying to put out the flames of your anger with alcohol, but your already tipsy brain didn’t have any care to give.

You left the kitchen, body instinctively going towards the vibrations of the bass, following the music to the living room where it was the loudest. You got lost in the sea of bodies, chugging your drink occasionally while your hips swayed as you let the music overtake you.

Eventually your cup ran dry, you frowned once you knocked your head back, and realized you were met with nothing. You were certainly feeling it though, and that fact compelled you to want to get another one. With the room spinning, and you definitely stumbling, you made your way back to the kitchen. Pouring yourself one more, you rested on the counter for a bit, cool tile pressing against your hot back feeling nice as you indulged, nursing your drink as a means to not feel out of place.

Unfortunately, your peace didn’t last long, some asshole tripping into you, spilling your drink down your shirt, and effectively ruining your night. Still drunk, you wandered to the bathroom that unfortunately had a line. Deciding to go upstairs to continue your search, you found Ben.

“ If you find Rodrick, tell him I’m leaving.” And that was all you hissed out before you slammed the bathroom door, not even caring to answer his questions.

Gripping the counter as you looked into the mirror, you glared back at yourself, bad decisions catching up to you as now all the emotions you were drowning out seemed to come to the surface. Roughly grabbing a wad of toilet paper, you started dabbing it against your shirt.

“ Stupid, stupid, stupid!” You chanted, getting more pissed as each word continued to leave your mouth.

Angry tears dotted your eyes, and that made you feel even worse.

“ I know I shouldn’t have gone to this fucking party oh my god.” You rambled, rubbing your shirt harshly as you started to realize it was going to stain.

Slam

“What the fuck!” The bathroom door swinging open was the last you expected as you yelled out.

“ What's wrong, why are you leaving?” His voice reached you before you realized it was him, and you hated how you couldn’t stop your heart fluttering at his presence.

“ Don’t you have something else to worry about?” You snarled out, alcohol making you much more confrontational than you would be.

“ What? No, why would I-” Rodrick stepped in more, closing the door behind him, and looking down at your soaked shirt.

“ Please I’m surprised you aren’t too busy with Heather right now.” Words spewed from your tongue, and you knew you were going to regret this later with the direction it’s going.

“ No, never, you know I care about you c’mon.” Normally these words coming from him would work, but you were just so over everything, you just couldn’t be bothered. You needed to shout, you needed to yell, you needed to express your pent up frustration, and Rodrick was sure as hell going to hear it.

“ Do you though?” Your question hung in the air, tone biting, and you continued before he got the chance to speak.

“ It’s always Heather with you, Heather this, Heather that, always Heather fucking Hills!” You exclaimed, shoving your hands in the air, wad of tissue dropping into a sad lump on the floor.

“ You care until she’s there, and suddenly you're nowhere to be seen, even though I’ve told you Rodrick.” You were close to him now, finger pressed to his chest as you glared at him, despite your wavering stance.

He fidgeted, looking down at your finger before sighing, clasping the hand pointed against him gently, he used his other hand to run a hand through his hair.

“ It was never Heather.” He muttered out, words slightly slurred as he looked down at your hand in his.

Your mind raced, waiting for the words that could come out of his mouth, trying to stop yourself from foolish hope at what that might entail.

“ I only ‘liked’ her for so long cus you were never into me.” He trailed off, eyes darting around the bathroom as you slowly processed his words.

“ Are you being forreal right now?” You stuttered dumbly, mind not being able to comprehend this wasn’t some stupid drunken delusion and that this was very much real.

A nod was all you needed before you made your next decision, fueled by liquid courage, you couldn't help but tease.

“ God Rodrick, you’re so stupid.” Was all you said before you tugged on the neckline of his shirt, his lips crashing into yours as you got the kiss you’ve longed for god knows how long.

His hands seemed to instinctively find your hips, and you hummed into the kiss, pulling his bottom lip into your mouth, you steadied yourself against him. His grip tightened, and you moved along with him as he placed you onto the bathroom counter.

He was between your legs now, and you hooked your legs around his waist. You gripped his shirt tighter as he bit your lip, pulling him into you as a means to deepen the kiss. He ran his tongue over your bottom lip and you obliged, parting your mouth to feel his tongue against yours.

Arms resting around his shoulders, and hands going to his surprisingly soft hair, you shuddered once you felt his once stationary hands trail up your thighs. He pulled away with uncharacteristic softness, and you could feel his breath fan across your lips as he looked into your eyes. Just as you were about to close the short distance, his head dipped into the crook of your neck, wet kisses left in his wake as your breath grew shaky.

Head spinning not just from the alcohol but also with how hot it was getting in the room. Feeling as though you were burning up under his touch, Rodrick lifted the hem of your shirt, and you helped him get the rest off.

“ Thank god, that thing was fucking soaked.” You sighed in relief, cold air feeling nice against your skin as you unclasped your bra.

“ Yeah I bet that's not the only thing.” You could feel the chuckle against your neck, and you laughed along despite how warm your face grew at how right he probably was.

His short nails managed to drag across your skin just right as you straightened up at the sensation, and you jolted at him pulling you closer to the edge of the counter so you could press against the bulge in his jeans.

His hands stilled as your hips bucked, a muffled groan coming from his throat as his head began to go lower to your chest. Rodrick’s presence was overwhelming, he was licking, sucking, and biting what he could get his mouth on, and occupied what he couldn’t with his surprisingly skilled hands.

Your mind was racing, your head was fuzzy, and you were growing more desperate by the second.

“ Rodrick I swear to god if you don’t get a move on I’m going to explode.” You practically begged, voice having a slight needy whine to it, and you figured you would kill him if he decided to tease you on it after the fact.

“ God calm down, hardly even done anything yet.” He teased, hands drifting down to your inner thigh.

“ That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” You groaned out, biting your lips in order to bite back the embarrassingly loud moan that would’ve left you as his hand grazed you through your underwear.

“ Jeez alright, alright.” Rodrick smirked down at you, maliciously complying as he pulled them to the side gathering your wetness with his fingers all before shoving them inside you.

“ God fuck- Rodrick!” You were grateful for the loud atmosphere of the party, shout lost in the rest of the noise.

You gripped his shoulders, legs trembling from the initial shock. Rodrick didn’t seem to want to give you a moment to breathe, setting a pace that could only be described as fast, and something made to make you loud. You couldn’t stay quiet even if you wanted to, moans spilling from your lips even though you tried to be mindful.

“ I was right by the way.” He teased, looking down at you while you stared back, face growing impossibly warmer at how he seemed to be entirely focused on you and your reactions.

“ Wha-huh?” Was all you could mewl out through the sensation of his fingers inside you.

“ You’re soaked.” He grinned wolfishly, making his pace harder, and you cried out as you clenched around him.

“ And you called me stupid, you can barely even speak right now.” His tone was downright sinful and his words only built up your continually arising arousal.

“ ‘S not fair, you’re not getting fucked right now-” you managed to get out between pants,” ‘S your fault!” You protested weakly, words falling from your lips before you could even process them.

“ My fault?” He scoffed, amused as he didn’t break his unrelenting rhythm.

“ Just like it's my fault for taking so long to realize you liked me?” He said, and you could pick up on the slight softness, like he was asking for confirmation, and you didn’t hesitate to give it to him.

Nodding profusely, you let the words you’ve always thought to say tumble from your mouth,” I’ve liked you for so-fuck-so so long!”

He hummed, smiling down at you as he picked up the pace,” Oh really? How long have you liked me, pretty?”

You could feel heat pool to your abdomen, and your legs tightened around his waist,” ‘M gonna cum fuck.”

“ No, answer first.” He said bluntly, however his fingers didn’t seem to slow.

“ Shit I don’t know.” You blurted, mind frazzled as you couldn’t seem to focus on anything but the overwhelming pleasure.

“ Think for me baby you got it.” Rodrick cooed, his left hand tracing gentle circles into your thigh.

“ Okayyy- ever since-fuck- ever since the begining of this year.” You managed to whine out before your legs began to shake.

“ Wow this year? That’s a long time.” He smiled, at your words, fondness dripping from his tone.

You would’ve smiled back, but his left hand moved from your thigh to your clit, rubbing it much more intensely than where it once was.

“ Such a good girl, cum for me.” He purred knowing just how close you were.

Coming down and swallowing your moans with a kiss that turned frantic as you eagerly reciprocated; you felt your orgasm crash over you in one big wave, dissolving into pleasure as your grip around him tightened.

Pace slowing as he rode you through your orgasm, in your clarity you fumbled for his belt buckle, the metal cold in your grip as you tried to take it off. Not breaking the kiss, Rodrick’s hands came down to help you, his jeans falling to the ground as you both parted to gasp for air.

In one swift movement Rodrick’s hands guided your hips, sinking you down onto his dick. Your simultaneous moans filled the air as Rodrick seemed to still for a second, needing a moment to collect himself. The sudden moving of his hips caused any teasing to die on your tongue as your breath hitched.

“ Fuck you feel so good.” Rodrick babbled, various noises falling past his lips, failing to maintain his composure despite his demeanor earlier.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer, too lost in the rhythmic thrusts that had you seeing stars. Rodrick didn’t seem to mind though, filling in for your lack of responses with words of his own.

“ Can’t believe it took me so long to realize you liked me back.” Both of his hands were on your hips now, dragging them down to match his thrusts.

You were lost in the pleasure at this point, already sensitive from your last orgasm, your senses were overwhelmed, and you couldn’t do anything but take what Rodrick was giving you.

“ Glad you finally did.” You cried out, already feeling the buildup for a second climax approaching.

“ Fuck.” You breathed out, Rodrick’s hips beginning to slam into you harder.

Arms going up to drape across his shoulders, you clung to him, needing to ground yourself with everything going on. His pace grew erratic, getting lost in you as he began to approach his rapidly building high. The same could be said for yourself, voice growing in volume as various curses flew from your lips.

Nails digging into his back, you gripped him tighter, you could hear your name slip past his lips as you moaned his. Hips coming to a slow stop, the sound of you both trying to catch your breath filled the room.

“ Still gonna leave?” Rodrick huffed, slipping back into his jeans as he looked at you.

“ Shirts still soaked.” You said simply, and you were absolutely going home after that, you were getting tired.

“ Wanna come back to my place with me?” You asked, hopping off the counter and looking for the wet pile that was your shirt.

“ Hell yeah.”

[m1ngkis]

Thinking about a quickie at a house party w Mingi (18+)

A/N: My first intrusive smut on here y'all be nice....

Y'all were already late. You stumbling in the crowded house on shaky legs thanks to the mini skirt that had riled him up and had his fingers knuckle deep in your pussy on the way over. Him, towering over you with a secure hand on your hip, nudging you forward and scouting for a drink.

You said your hellos and waved at the people you recognized as a familiar bass line pounded through the hardwood floors.

"Want something to drink?" His deep voice traveled straight down your spine as his lips pressed close to your ear. No doubt he noticed your shivering and lack of urgency to find your friends.

You wanted, no, you needed him to finish what he started in the car or you thought you might combust any second. "No, Im okay. Just need to find somewhere to sit."

Immediately, Mingi started to scan the room. His height gave him the advantage to see over a majority of heads in the room but not a single chair was free for you to rest in.

"Sorry honey. I don't see a spot. You sure you're okay?" He knew you weren't. He knew you didn't get to cum in the car and it was all but killing you. The way he pressed up against your back and kept his breath warm against your neck. His fingers flexing against your skin as his hand weaved its way across your tummy, drawing you nearer to him, if that was even possible.

"Mingi.." You all but whined as your hand covered his above your belly button, your nails scratching at his skin.

"What is it baby? Say it and I'll take care of you, promise."

"Just a quickie. That's all I need, I swear. Please."

It took nothing for him to start guiding you through the house, ignoring the guys beckoning him over for a drinking game. He made a sharp turn and knocked on the door to the bathroom.

When nobody answered, he swung it open, the door banging the wall behind it and no doubt leaving a dent. He didn't care because once the door was shut and locked, the lights were flickered on and you were bent over the bathroom sink. Your mini skirt flipped up out of his way and your wet panties drug down your thighs and hanging around your ankles.

"Mingi, please fuck me please!" You whined, your body starting to break out in a sweat as he went to undo his jeans, tugging them down just enough to let his cock spring free.

You could hear him curse under his breath as he ran his fingers through your slick folds. "So wet. Shit, you're so wet."

Desperation, began taking over your senses as you pushed your hips back to meet him. "Relax honey. You know I can't just break you open like this."

"Please, I can take it. Mingi please!" You reached a hand back to grab his and interlocked your fingers. "Just put it in."

And he did, easing into you inch by inch until the burning stretch morphed into eye rolling pleasure. His soft grunts and your whines mixed in with the soft smacking of skin and the clink of his belt buckle. It was music to your ears and all you could do was mumble about how good it was. How you almost didn't want to cum because you didn't want it to end.

You got so lost in it, you forgot where you were until a pounding fist rapped against the door and Mingi shouted out. "Busy in here!"

His pace quickened and your orgasm hit you in waves, your moans almost overpowering the music booming through the house. "That's it. You good now?" You could see his sly smirk in the mirror over the sink before his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth dropped open, his cum spilling into you as he thrusted sloppily.

Once he pulled out and cleaned you up, he slipped your panties off your ankles and stuffed them into one of his jean pockets. "I think Ill take a drink now." You smiled up at him and he returned it with a kiss, patting your butt and leading you out the bathroom.

[moonxytcn]

Heyyy (btw before I request anything ur writing is literally pure GOLD) anyways could u write about how the reader and billie have always been friends since childhood up to her newest album hit me hard and soft. Billie is on tour and the reader always finds a way to get front row tickets to her bestfriends shows. A few days before tour started the reader posted a TikTok with billie lying across her lap on the sofa. In the comments there was lots of speculation about a flirty friendship (behind closed doors the reader and billie both knew that was true). A few days later Billie was performing in LA. An hour or so into the show billie starts singing ‘Billie Bossa Nova’ from her album happier than ever. When it gets to the lyrics “nobody saw me in the lobby…𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬” Billie gave a smirk to the crowd instantly locking eyes with the reader and winking knowing full well that due to that TikTok posted a few days before, EVERYBODY saw her in your arms.

Nobody saw me in your arms

| Billie Eilish x fem!reader

summary – Billie and you finally talk about how you feel after years of hidden feelings and fan speculation

warnings – fluffy

a/n – heyyy thank you so much for the request!! hope you like it

| English is not my first language so there may be some errors.

| Masterlist —✽— Pinned Post

   ㅤ✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

–––

Billie’s voice echoes through the packed venue, the energy in the room palpable as she performs each song with the intensity and emotion that only she can bring. You’ve always been amazed at how she can captivate an audience, how she can make every single person in the room feel like she’s singing directly to them. But tonight, as you stand front row, the bass reverberating through your chest, you know that, for at least one song, she really is singing to you.

It’s been like this for as long as you can remember. From the time you were kids, Billie had a way of drawing people in. You still remember the days when she’d sneak into your room with a mischievous grin, her hair dyed some new, vibrant color, and a guitar slung over her shoulder. Back then, it was just the two of you, making up songs and laughing until your sides hurt. You’d listen to her dreams of becoming a star, and though you always believed in her, it was hard to imagine the tiny spark of a girl next door turning into the powerhouse standing on stage tonight.

You’ve been by her side through it all. From those early, impromptu jam sessions in your living room to the first time she played in front of a real crowd, you’ve watched her grow into the artist she is today. And no matter how big she’s gotten, how many millions of fans scream her name, she’s always made sure you were right there with her.

When Billie’s latest album, 'Hit Me Hard and Soft', dropped, you were one of the first people to hear it. She’d sent you the demos before the rest of the world even knew it existed, nervously biting her lip as she waited for your reaction. Of course, you loved it. How could you not? The album was everything she was—bold, vulnerable, raw, and beautiful. It was a testament to everything she’d been through, and everything you’d gone through together.

But of all the songs she has ever made, one has caught her attention. 'Billie Bossa Nova' was different from the rest, and when you first heard it, your heart skipped a beat. The lyrics were sultry, teasing, full of secrets whispered behind closed doors. You recognized yourself in the song, in the way Billie’s voice dipped and softened, in the way she played with the words like they were meant just for you. And you knew, in that moment, that your friendship had never been just a friendship.

You never talked about it—not really. Sure, there had been moments, stolen glances, lingering touches, that said more than words ever could. But neither of you wanted to ruin what you had. The connection between you was too special, too rare to risk by putting a label on it. So you kept it quiet, hidden behind the walls of inside jokes and childhood memories.

But a few days before the tour kicked off, something changed. You’d posted a TikTok of the two of you lounging on your sofa, Billie sprawled across your lap, her head resting comfortably against your chest. It was an innocent video, just a moment of you two being you, but the comments quickly exploded with speculation. People saw what was between you, even if you hadn’t fully admitted it to yourselves. The rumors of a "flirty friendship" spread like wildfire, with fans dissecting every interaction, every glance, every smile.

Billie had laughed it off when you showed her, her eyes twinkling with that familiar, mischievous glint. "Let them talk", she’d said, and you both agreed to keep it under wraps, to keep the world guessing.

And now, here you are, in the middle of her sold-out LA show, and you can feel the anticipation building. The setlist is winding down, and you know 'Billie Bossa Nova' is coming. You’ve been to every show so far on this tour, using every connection you have to secure front-row tickets. It's become your little tradition, a way to remind her that no matter how big her world gets, you'll always be there, front and center.

The lights dim, and the crowd hushes as the familiar, sultry beat of 'Billie Bossa Nova' starts to play. Billie steps to the edge of the stage, her gaze scanning the audience, and you can feel your heart start to race. You know this moment is for you.

As she sings, her voice dripping with honeyed tones, she sways to the rhythm, her eyes locking with yours. The crowd disappears, the world fades away, and it’s just the two of you, sharing a secret that no one else can touch. Then she gets to the line that makes your breath hitch every time: "Nobody saw me in the lobby…" She pauses for a beat, and you see the corner of her mouth quirk up in a playful smirk. "…nobody saw me in your arms."

And then she winks.

It’s quick, almost imperceptible to anyone not paying attention, but you catch it. Your stomach flips, a rush of warmth spreading through you as you realize what she’s just done. With that one simple gesture, she’s acknowledged everything. The TikTok, the rumors, the truth behind closed doors. She’s letting you know that she remembers, that she sees you, and that she’s just as affected as you are.

The crowd erupts into cheers, but you barely hear them. Your eyes are glued to Billie, your heart pounding as she finishes the song, still holding your gaze. When the final note fades, she blows a kiss to the audience, and you know that it’s meant for you.

The rest of the concert passes in a blur, your mind stuck on that moment, on the way she made you feel like the only person in the world. When the show finally ends, and the lights come up, you make your way backstage, your pulse racing with anticipation.

Billie’s waiting for you, her face flushed with the afterglow of the performance. "So." She says, a teasing lilt in her voice as she leans against the wall, "how’d you like the show?"

You roll your eyes, but you can’t keep the smile off your face. "You know I loved it."

"Good." She replies, her eyes sparkling. "Because that little wink? It was just for you."

Your breath catches as she steps closer, her gaze never leaving yours. "Billie, about that TikTok—" You start, but she cuts you off with a soft laugh.

"Don’t worry about it." She says, her voice low, almost a whisper. "Let them talk, remember?"

"But…" You hesitate, unsure of how to put everything you’re feeling into words. "But what if we want more than just letting them talk?"

She’s quiet for a moment, her expression softening as she reaches out to take your hand. "Then maybe it’s time we stop hiding." She says gently. "We’ve been dancing around this for years, and I’m tired of pretending. Aren’t you?"

You nod, your heart swelling with relief and something deeper, something that’s been building between you for as long as you can remember. "Yeah." You whisper, squeezing her hand. "I’m tired of pretending too."

Billie smiles, and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. "Good." She says, pulling you into a hug that feels like coming home. "Because I want you in my life—front row, center stage—where you belong."

As you hold each other, the noise of the world fades away, and it’s just the two of you again, just like it’s always been. But this time, there are no more secrets, no more hiding. Just the truth, out in the open, for everyone to see.

[tinytinyblogs]

Is it hate or love?

Hate or love? Their mixed signals are driving you crazy.

(Ot8 reaction, non-idol)

Hyung line Maknae line

Stray kids masterlist here

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Han

The pulsing bass vibrated through your bones, a chaotic counterpoint to the unease churning within you. The crowded club, once a beacon of escape, now felt like a suffocating cage, each pulsating beat a reminder of your misplaced hope. You knew parties weren't your forte, the cacophony and forced interactions a far cry from your comfort zone. Yet, here you were, seeking solace in the din, a desperate attempt to drown out the deafening silence of your own heart. Your gaze, like a moth drawn to a flame, flickered towards Han Jisung. The object of your silent affection, the boy who'd occupied your daydreams for longer than you cared to admit. Yet, your interactions were a constant push-and-pull, a dance of unspoken tension and veiled barbs. Seeing him now, surrounded by a flock of admirers, a bitter pang of envy twisted your gut. The heady mix of alcohol and disappointment threatened to overwhelm you. Just as you contemplated escape, another voice, smooth and saccharine, intruded your thoughts. You recognized the glint in his eyes, the practiced charm masking a predatory intent. You weren't naive, you knew his game, but the thought of succumbing to the distraction, of losing yourself in the fleeting euphoria, was almost tempting. But before you could play along, a familiar hand grasped your arm, pulling you away from the potential danger.

Han Jisung stood there, his expression a storm brewing behind his usual mask of indifference. "Are you stupid?" His voice was harsh, a jarring contrast to the club's intoxicating rhythm. The question, though blunt, held a surprising edge of concern. "What now, Jisung?" you snapped back, stung by his words. "Why don't you just mind your own business?" The loud music seemed to dim around you, replaced by the intensity of his gaze. His cologne, a familiar scent, filled your senses, grounding you in the chaos. His presence, imposing yet strangely comforting, made your head spin. "He obviously doesn't have any feelings for you," he stated, his voice low but firm. "He just wants something else. Are you too blind to see that?" His words, brutal but honest, pierced through the veil of denial you'd woven around your heart. "I know, okay?" you retorted, your voice choked with frustration. You yearned to escape, to drown his interference in the cacophony of the club, but his grip on your arm held you captive. "You said you knew," he repeated, his voice low but insistent. "Yet you still walked back in." You struggled against his hold, frustration burning in your throat. "Why do you care so much, Han Jisung?" you spat, your voice raspy with emotion. "Is there some other guy here you want to protect me from? Since when did you ever care about me?" The question, hurled like a weapon, hung heavy in the air.

You expected a smirk, a barbed retort, anything but the vulnerability that flickered across his face. He stepped closer, his hand finding your shoulder, a grounding touch in the swirling chaos. "I always care," he whispered, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Who said I never do? I only came here because I heard you were coming...to a party you hate." The music, once a pulsing assault on your senses, receded into a distant echo. Your own heart, a relentless drumbeat in your chest, "I wouldn't like it," he said, his voice a low rumble, each word a hammer blow to your carefully constructed facade. "I don't like it. I hate the thought of someone else…" He paused, his eyes searching yours, the vulnerability in their depths a stark contrast to his usual mask of indifference. "I hate the thought of someone else doing you wrong." The melody of his words, stripped bare of pretense, hit you differently "Let's just go home," he continued, his voice softer now, a gentle plea in his eyes. "You shouldn't be here. You should be somewhere…comfortable. Somewhere you can wear something that makes you feel cute, not…this." He gestured towards your outfit, the once-confident fabric suddenly feeling like a flimsy shield against his scrutiny. "They're going to stare a hole through you here," he added, his voice laced with a quiet anger you hadn't known resided within him.

Felix

The air in the cramped dressing room felt thick with whispers and disapproval, a suffocating miasma that clung to your skin despite the icy blast of the air conditioner. Being a model, you were supposed to be immune to such scrutiny, your confidence honed like a diamond under pressure. Yet, here you were, feeling as small and fragile as a porcelain doll under the harsh glare of a thousand unseen eyes. Felix, your runway partner, was a study in stark contrast. Golden sunlight seemed to follow him like a halo, his chiseled features and sculpted physique the epitome of runway perfection. But to you, he was a storm cloud, his constant scowl and barely-there grunts a testament to his displeasure. You knew the whispers – how you, with your 'average' beauty, were a misstep in his flawless stride, a blemish on his pristine reputation. It stung, even though you hadn't begged for this partnership. You finished your makeup with a trembling hand, the image of Felix's laser-like gaze burning into your memory. From the moment you'd entered the room, his eyes had been fixed on you, a silent accusation hanging in the air. Now, with the call of the staff to cancel the show due to 'unfavorable audience reactions,' you felt a surge of defiance. This was your moment, your chance to break free from the suffocating expectations and malicious whispers.

But then, a voice like warm thunder sliced through the room. It was Felix, his usual monotone replaced by a fiery intensity. "Why do you think I want to cancel all of this?" he roared, his eyes blazing with a newfound determination. "I don't want to cancel. I don't want to change my partner." The room fell silent, the whispers replaced by a stunned gasp. Felix, the epitome of aloof perfection, was standing up for you, defying the invisible hand of public opinion. The air crackled with disbelief, a tangible shockwave emanating from Felix's pronouncement. "It's Y/N or no one," his voice boomed, shattering the suffocating silence of the cramped dressing room. It was a declaration, a defiant strike against the whispers and doubts that had been swirling around you like a noxious cloud. Every eye in the room turned to you, then back to Felix, their faces a mask of stunned surprise. "Stop talking bad about Y/N," he commanded, his voice a low growl that resonated in the room like a tuning fork. "This person is a perfect model, always shining in every shoot. Just do your job and promote us properly like how you guys need to do." He, the golden god of the runway, the one who'd perfected the art of icy indifference, was standing before you, his hand resting nonchalantly in his pocket.

"It's weird hearing you say that," you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper. "You've always seemed...irrational, at best, with me." Felix chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down your spine despite its familiarity. He looked away for a moment, his gaze flitting to his shoes, then back to you, a hesitant smile playing on his lips. "No one else gets to talk bad about you," he muttered, his voice husky with an unfamiliar emotion. "Only me." His words, though laced with playful possessiveness, held a surprising tenderness. You felt a warmth bloom in your chest, a fragile flame flickering to life amidst the ashes of doubt. In that moment, the room seemed to shrink, the throng of people fading into the periphery. It was just you and him, two souls adrift in a sea of stunned silence. "Besides," he continued, his gaze drifting to the wall clock, "you really are the best model I've ever seen. No one could say anything like that about you. You deserve better. Don't let them define you." He took your hand, his touch a spark that ignited a fire within you. "Be ready for the shoot," he murmured, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Then, let's get lunch together. My treat."

Seungmin

The room seemed to shrink around you, the air thick with unshed tears and Seungmin's blunt words. Each sob felt like a jagged piece of your heart breaking away, the sting of betrayal raw and bitter on your tongue. Seungmin's voice dripped with disdain as he sipped his tea, his every word a barbed arrow aimed at your heartbreak. "Stupidity," he scoffed, "believing someone like him. Crying for a man who wouldn't even blink if you vanished tomorrow." He placed the cup down with a clatter, a harsh counterpoint to your choked sobs. "Shut up, Seungmin!" you spat, the tears burning your cheeks. "If you're just here to twist the knife, then get out." He rolled his eyes, the familiar sass laced with a cold fury. "Always the drama queen," he drawled, snatching the remote and blasting the TV. "Wasting your tears on someone who doesn't deserve them, on someone who's already forgotten your name. What could be a bigger waste?" You scrubbed your face raw with your sleeve, sobs wracking your body. "So who should I waste them on then? Someone like you, who relishes in my pain?" The air crackled with unspoken emotions as Seungmin sat glued to the screen, a vacant stare masking any flicker of attention to the flickering images.

His words, a barbed whisper, cut through the silence, "No, if I could be him, I wouldn't make you cry." Your sobs, raw and echoing, painted a stark contrast to his stoicism. Tears traced red streaks down your cheeks, your eyes catching his, searching for a hint of the warmth that usually resided behind his gaze. "Because I'm not as stupid as him," he continued, his voice a low rumble, "to fail someone I wanted to be with." His words were a bombshell, sending ripples through your tear-streaked world. You had never witnessed this vulnerability from him, accustomed only to the mask of annoyance he wore as your roommate. Silence stretched, thick and heavy, as you processed the unexpected confession. "Are you insane, Seungmin?" you choked out, disbelief lacing your voice, "You're talking nonsense." You reached for the cup of tea he had placed beside you, its warmth a small comfort against the storm within. His gaze, heavy and unwavering, remained fixed on you, a silent interrogation. "Maybe I am," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "I must be out of my mind to feel this way." His words hung in the air, a fragile admission of a truth he could no longer deny.

The remote clattered onto the sofa, a jarring contrast to the soft murmur of the TV. You winced at the unexpected sound, but his next words were far more startling. "You're right," he said, his voice rough but strangely tender. "I'm glad you're not with him anymore." He still didn't look at you, his gaze fixed on some unseen point across the room. "It means...maybe I have a chance." Slowly, he turned his head, his eyes meeting yours. The sight of your tear-streaked face, though, seemed to freeze him. The air crackled between you and Seungmin, electric with the sting of miscommunication and hurt. Your voice, raw from denial, rasped out, "This is not the time for your stupid jokes, Kim Seungmin." It was a desperate attempt to shield yourself, to find some semblance of logic in the chaos, because Seungmin, the one who usually held your world together, was suddenly a stranger offering hollow words. "You always refuse to see me," he sighed, his voice low, a tremor of vulnerability beneath the surface. "Maybe I'm not your ideal, the knight in shining armor you dream about. But can't you, even for a moment, look at me differently? The way you look at everyone else, with that open heart and curious eyes?"

Jeongin

The air crackled around you, thick with disbelief and a sudden, unexpected twist. Prom night, the culmination of a thousand whispered fantasies, had always seemed a distant galaxy, something you dreamt of but never truly expected to touch. Yet, here it was, manifesting in the form of a nervous, stumbling classmate, his voice tripping over words as he extended an invitation tinged with hope. Before your mind could catch up, a familiar scent invaded your senses, a grounding presence against the swirling confusion. Jeongin, your ever-present shadow, materialized beside you, his hand a warm anchor on your shoulder. His voice, usually a playful rasp, held a steely edge as he spoke, cutting through the awkward tableau. "I'm sorry, my dear friend," he said, his gaze unwavering as it pierced through the boy in front of you, "but this y/n is going to prom with me." The world tilted on its axis. Your breath caught in your throat, a kaleidoscope of emotions warring within you. A pang of sympathy for the retreating boy, his disappointment etched on his back, mingled with the spark of defiance ignited by Jeongin's audacity. "What the hell is going on in your head, Yang Jeongin?" you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper. "Hello to you too," he drawled, his voice laced with amusement, even as you attempted to shove his hand off your shoulder. The gesture, though meant to be firm, felt oddly futile against his unwavering presence.

"Can you just let me breathe freely for one day, Jeongin?" you pleaded, your voice laced with exasperation. He hummed, a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down your spine despite its seeming nonchalance. Leaning back against the locker beside you, he folded his arms across his chest, a picture of infuriating serenity. "I can't," he replied, his voice a smooth whisper that seemed to burrow directly into your ear. You slammed your locker shut with a resounding bang, the metallic clanging a poor excuse for the thunderous roar in your own head. The deliberate act blocked his view, a flimsy shield against the storm brewing inside you. As you rifled through your belongings, stuffing textbooks and notebooks into their designated slots, Jeongin's nonchalant presence loomed large. "So, you really wanted to see me go to prom by myself, huh?" you spat, the words tumbling out like bitter fruit. "Is that your idea of a good time? Watching me wallow in my own social awkwardness?" You slammed your locker shut, the metal echoing in the quiet hallway like a thunderclap. Your gaze finally met Jeongin's, and the unexplainable expression clouding his face made your heart stutter. "Do you really hate me that much?" your voice came out raw, each word a shard of doubt scraping against your throat.

He took a step closer, his body blocking your path, creating a silent barrier between you and the anonymous freedom of the hallway. "I never said I wanted you to go to prom alone," his voice deepened, a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "I wanted to be the one walking beside you, the one you laughed with under the disco ball. The one who gets to see that dazzling smile reserved for no one else." He paused, his hand resting in his pocket, a nervous habit you knew all too well. "And who said I hate you? It's not even in my vocabulary, okay? Stop with these scenarios you keep conjuring up. Just accept the fate you're stuck with – me. I'm not letting you go to prom with anyone else, and that's final." The shrill cry of the school bell pierced the air, shattering the fragile bubble you'd woven around yourself and Jeongin. His smirk widened, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he took in your flustered expression. It was a sight he relished, the way your cheeks flushed a delicate pink, your brows furrowed in a picture of adorable confusion. "Lost in your daydreams again, pretty?" he teased, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "If you don't want to be late for class, it might be a good idea to trade that frown for a sprint."

©Tinytinyblogs

[dream-bandit]

Walking Home Alone

WOOO UH. Babys first dreamzzz fic second fic in general. this wasnt supposed to be long I dont know i let the demons out for a bit and 1.4k words came from it help

Summary: Zoey walks home some time after her mother passes away. Mental breakdown ensues. ALL HURT! NO COMFORT!!🤑

A soccer ball made its way across the street, landing right near her feet. She looked over to see where it came from, A group of kids playing in the park until one of them kicked it out of bounds. She could recognize them as the 5th graders from her school.

None of them made a move and the entire group looked at her expectantly, unspeaking in their request for Zoey to throw it back to them so they could get right back to it.

She kicked it with all the enthusiasm she could muster and watched it lazily travelled until stopping halfway across the street. She didn't give it enough force.

She turned back, continuing her walk as she heard footsteps running and a kid saying "Bitch," near her, most likely to her. She couldn't care less.

She couldn't give a damn to care about anything at all, really. It was nearly an odd sensation, a feeling that she thinks would make her sad if she could feel at all.

Instead, what was inside her was a black hole of an emotion. It sucked everything in and it left her feeling nothing. Nothing at all, like she was just an empty body walking through the motions.

It was like a big, gaping hole inside of her that showed up and stuck around ever since her....

She bit the inside of her cheek hard and begged herself to think of quite literally ANYTHING but that. There were a lot of other things to focus on. Like how the sun got in her eyes and burned her skin, or the dog shit sitting gracefully in the middle of the path, or even the... uh....

She tried to imagine all the microscopic bugs crawling on the floor, on her boots, on her skin. Millions- or was it billions? She wouldn't know, she wasn't paying attention- of bacteria and viruses making their way through their existence. It grossed her out but it was better than the alternative. The thousand of legs that could be squirming their way on her, she stared down on the ground as she walked and tried to hone in on it, wondering if she could feel it.

The taste of metal filled her mouth and she was forced out of her train of thought. There was just too much to think about, and too little of anything else.

She tried to imagine some of the music she liked, she sure was a fan of that. The squeal of an electric guitar, the thrashing of drums on the most unconventional rhythm, how a bass could complete the entire picture of sound.

Or perhaps something softer, the gentle, acoustic guitar strumming its melody, the flow of a flute and how it ties around the listener into a sweet hug. The soft, melancholic humming of a voice that says everything is fine, it will all work out in the end, that it loves you and to not miss them when they're gone...

...Fuck! There she goes again. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't escape the grief of her mother's passing. It hit her hard, harder than a freight truck going 90 crashing into her. It was painful to think about, but she couldn't avoid it being brought back again and again into her mind.

It was a horrible feeling, one that physically hurt and made it hard to breathe. It would leave her unable to speak or to move, helpless like a newborn baby. It was an emotion so strong all she could do is lay on the floor and try to cry it out, but it never ended, and always came back.

She felt the tears beginning to well in her eyes as the pit in her chest began to form. She tried to act like she was shielding her eyes from the sun to get it to stop, but it was worthless attempt. She wasn't able to hold back the first tears and she knew that once they started she could only wait them out.

There were only a few streets left until she got to her house and she tried her best to not start publicly sobbing. However, how life commonly does, it didn't go her way. All she can do at this point is try to muffle her whimpers and hang her head low as she speed-walked the rest of the path. She could almost FEEL the glares and looks people gave her.

They would all tell her how sorry they were, how they knew she was going through a rough patch, but none of them could ever know the type of pain she felt. They couldn't just say "keep going" when they didn't know how hard it was to stay. Even during the night she didn't have any break from the grief because she was an aware dreamer. She continued fully conscious during the night for more hours of laying still and waiting for it to be over, but it felt like there was no end to this.

She had lost her mother, her entire world. Her mother was the one who took care of her, the only one left to love her after her father left when she was still a baby. Her mother stayed by her side and helped her get through everything even though Zoey knew she was struggling herself. She taught her how to sing and how to play, she showed her what there was to love about the cold world before in unfairly took her away.

Without her, she felt undead, like a complete void of a person. Zoey herself was the absence of the missing piece where her mother once was. It made her upset, it burned her insides with rage and her eyes with tears she refused to let slip.

She looked up again when she came face to face with her home. As soon as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her, she burst into hysterics. She couldn't hold it back anymore, she felt it all get expunged out of her body like bile.

All around her where only things that angered her more. The plants her mother used to care for, the old instruments she could play, even the big bed with the comfiest mattress that sagged slightly from use, where she used to snuggle with her mother when she was younger and having a bad day. It would never be used again, it was empty just like Zoey herself, purposeless. Everything around her, empty and soulless, as if all meaning had left with her mother when she died. All the life stemmed from her and now that she was gone, everything just became a meaningless husk of what it once meant to someone. Perhaps that someone was Zoey herself, but what does something mean to a human that no longer feels?

The paradox she found herself in tore her apart bit by bit. She felt nothing for anything but she felt absolutely everything for something. It was as if her soul was ripped apart, shattered glass that would forever be broken no matter how hard anyone tried to mend it. She knew there were people who would still care for her, someone who would take her in soon once everything settled down a bit, but it wouldn't be HER MOTHER and it could never be her. It was a hole too big to ever be filled in.

Nothing would ever mean what it used to and it hurt her heart so much she wished she could vomit it out. She wished she could rip it out of her own chest and stomp on it until it was nothing but a splotch of red. She'd rather take the worst pain in the world than this mental one. Maybe then would she be able to feel SOMETHING other than the harrowing grief that squirmed violently inside her.

She cried loudly as if she was pleading for help. Like she was crying out to her mom and just wanted her to hear her so she could pick her up and tell her everything would be okay.

But she never came despite how hard she wailed for her. She waited and waited, knowing how stupid it was but being unable to hope for anything else.

No one else ever came, either. Not her friend who she hoped she was on good terms with who hadn't asked her a single time if she was okay, not any family, not a single person. She was left alone in the emptiness and no one was coming to even try and fetch her out of it.

The home she had spent her entire life in was now truly empty, and there was not a single thing full of life in it anymore.

[mr-styles]

Harry Styles' Sonic Evolution: How He Grew From Teen Pop Idol To Ever-Evolving Superstar

Harry's House' not only gives Harry Styles his most GRAMMY recognition yet — it serves as a testament to how much he's expanded his sound over his already storied career.

GABRIEL AIKINS | GRAMMYS/JAN 25, 2023 - 12:02 PM

Watching 16 year-old Harry Styles walk onto the stage for his "The X Factor" audition in 2010, it's remarkable how little some things have changed in the following 13 years. Though his rendition of Stevie Wonder's "Isn't She Lovely" was rather unpolished — even receiving a "no" from judge Louis Walsh — his magnetic charisma and natural talent were more than evident. And at just 16, Styles clearly knew he was on the right path.

"Singing is what I want to do," Styles said in an interview before his audition. "And if the people who can make that happen for me don't think that I should be doing that, then it's a major setback in my plans."

Of course, so much else has changed in the ensuing decade. Styles was tabbed alongside other contestants Liam Payne, Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan and Zayn Malik to form the group One Direction. As the band stormed the charts and captured the love of fans globally, Styles grew into his abilities — and now, he's achieved a rarified level of fame. 

Even after being part of one of the most successful boy bands of all time, Styles has reached new heights of superstardom in his own right. In addition to selling millions of albums and selling out arenas around the world, he's starred in four feature films and became the first male cover star of Vogue magazine. The depth of Styles' charisma and drive he's shown from that first audition have made him an all-encompassing star like few before him.

While Styles was a solo star as soon as he emerged in 2017 — selling out his first-ever solo tour and debuting his self-titled first album atop the Billboard 200 — he has dominated the 2020s. His second album, 2019's Fine Line, spawned his first No. 1 hit in the U.S. in 2020 with "Watermelon Sugar," which also earned him his first GRAMMY in 2021 for Best Pop Solo Performance. But 2022 was the year he took his stardom to the next level — and it all began with an invitation to Harry's House. 

The lead single of Styles' third album, "As It Was," became undeniable, debuting atop the Billboard Hot 100 and spending 15 weeks there — the most in history for a British act. And when Harry's House arrived less than two months after "As It Was," it was clear that 2022 was the year of Harry. 

The album, featuring smooth electronic beats and funky bass riffs, went platinum in the UK and US, put four songs into the Billboard Top 10 at the same time, and earned Styles the most GRAMMY nominations of his career. His six nominations for the 2023 GRAMMYs include his first in the coveted Album Of The Year, Song Of The Year and Record Of The Year categories; Harry's House also earned a nod for Best Pop Vocal Album and "As It Was" is up for Best Pop Solo Performance and Best Music Video.

If you ask Tyler Johnson — who has co-written and co-produced the majority of Styles' three solo albums — the GRAMMY nominations may just be Styles' biggest validation yet. "It's really the music community recognizing him as Harry Styles — [his time in the band] is just another part of his resume, it no longer defines him. And that's really exciting."

In reality, Styles hardly ever let his past define him. Even Johnson sensed Styles' star power upon meeting the singer in 2015. "When I first met him, I knew a lot about him from the band, but it was obvious he was a star," he recalls. "Especially how he performed in the vocal booth, it was very brave. I was like, 'Wow, this person has no barriers.'"

With no barriers comes a willingness to always try something new — which is why the Harry Styles of Harry's House sounds much different than Harry Styles of One Direction. The change was heard immediately back in 2017 on his first solo single "Sign of the Times," released ahead of his self-titled debut LP later that year. It's a rock track to its core, starting with hearty piano chords and building to a crescendo of wailing electric guitar and crashing drums. This initial offering was a sign of what was to come, as Harry Styles is built on these rock sounds from beginning to end. 

Even if reviews weren't outright surprised by this sound, they noted the seemingly brand new, well, direction. "Few people probably predicted the 23-year-old ex-One Direction superstar to drop the kind of album that makes your uncle or your mom perk up," read Variety's review. Pitchfork mused, "If you only know one thing about Harry Styles, it's probably that the album bucks the established trends governing bids for young male solo pop stardom." Styles becoming a rock star was something new, but looking back at the totality of his work, it's not quite as surprising as it might be at first glance.

When assessing the music of One Direction, the singles will of course stand out. Tracks like "What Makes You Beautiful," "Live While We're Young," and "Best Song Ever" are big and boisterous, with infectiously fun hooks. And while each of the group's five albums had rock influences — queue the Clash-like electric guitar opening of "Live While We're Young" — they're all pop projects at their core. And the writers and producers behind them were pop masterminds, too, including Rami Yacoub, Steve Mac, Ed Sheeran, and Ryan Tedder.

By nature of an essentially constant touring schedule and working with so many other people — especially the four other members of the group — there was simply less opportunity to write. Across the 86 songs in the band's discography, Styles has writing credits on only 21 of them, whereas he serves as lead writer on every track on each of his three solo albums. 

"I think it was tough to really delve in and find out who you are as a writer when you're just kind of dipping your toe each time," Styles told Rolling Stonein 2017, recalling some of the struggles of being in a band. "We didn't get the six months to see what kind of s— you can work with."

Listening to the songs Styles did have a hand in writing for One Direction, though, the throughline of his career becomes clearer. Even the earliest tracks he co-wrote include key elements to his later songs.

The chorus of Up All Night's "Same Mistakes" takes his penchant for lyrical repetition, creating a folksy call-and-response feeling and pairing it with powerful guitar chords; he uses a similar pattern on Harry Styles' opening track "Meet Me in the Hallway." Made In The A.M. ballad "If I Could Fly" is strikingly vulnerable lyrically and melodically minimalistic; this combination is seen on Styles' solo ballads, like Fine Line's "Falling" or Harry's House's "Matilda."

Styles' solo success also stems from his versatility. Alongside folksy ballads, he has an ear for rock songs to fill a stadium (and after completely selling out his 2021 and 2022 Love On Tour stretches, stadiums may be where he's headed next). "Where Do Broken Hearts Go?" is one of One Direction's most anthemic tracks, tailor made for karaoke or shouting alongside a crowd. It's no surprise Styles is the sole One Direction member on the writing credits for it, and you can hear that same exuberance on his solo rock anthems, from Fine Line’s ultra cool smash "Watermelon Sugar" to the funk rock-infused "Late Night Talking" on Harry's House. 

In a 2017 New York Times interview, Styles explained his rock influence — and really, his musicality as a whole — stems from his own musical tastes. "I really wanted to make an album that I wanted to listen to," he said of Harry Styles. "That was the only way I knew I wouldn't look back on it and regret it. It was more, 'What do I want to sit and listen to?' rather than, 'How do I shake up compared to what's on radio right now?'"

Judging by the elevated sounds on Harry's House, Styles' musical interests have grown as he has evolved as an artist. While there are hints of his previous writing and growth on the album, Styles incorporated so many new elements, and that's what makes Harry's House so interesting and so refreshing. 

Funk pervades the record, with synths and stylized loops fleshing out tracks like "Music For A Sushi Restaurant" and "Keep Driving." There's a constant sense of playfulness throughout all 13 tracks — something that was apparent to Styles' collaborators long before the world got to hear it. 

"Harry just said that he's never been more proud of anything, and Tom [Hull, better known as producer Kid Harpoon] and I are just there for the ride," Johnson says. "We didn't feel too caught up in the kind of reality of who he is and having to put out an album very specific to the commerce side of it. It was a lot of having fun and just kind of burying our heads in the sand and enjoying doing it. That was very different from Fine Line."

Styles can seemingly feel his evolution himself, too. In a wide-ranging interview with Zane Lowe upon the album's release in May 2022, Styles revealed that he tried not to take direct sonic influences on this record like he had in the past. "I kinda felt like you can reference things by the emotions that they evoke," he said.

The same interview points out how much more comfortable Styles has become with being flexible and fluid, both in his own writing and his collaborators. And now that he's found his right-hand men in Johnson and Hull, he finds it easier to bring his ideas to life. This has allowed Styles to continue to expand his writing, and that resulted in an album that launched his superstardom to even greater heights — and showcased Harry Styles simply having fun.

Now 28 (almost 29!), Styles has been a beloved star for nearly half of his life. In that time, fans have watched his musical abilities mature, morph and expand; he has shown a willingness to always have an eye on what comes next — and that forward thinking paid off in a big way in 2022. However he evolves next, it seems Styles will never lose the drive and endearing charm the world first saw on the "X Factor" stage over a decade ago.

"He's a very similar person. He's a very consistent, loyal, kind person, very focused. That is all the same," Johnson insists. "He's just doing what people do when they do it more and more — he's focusing in on who he is more, he's gaining confidence, and he's becoming more and more himself — which is a very potent thing."

via Grammy.com

[that-1d-blogger]

This is part two ,

Part 1 is here

-------------------

The reception was an absolutely gorgeous affair, twinkling strings of fairy lights and lush floral arrangements transforming the luxurious ballroom into something straight out of a fairy tale. As Liam and I made our grand entrance, I couldn't keep the ridiculously wide smile from stretching across my face. We were finally married - husband and wife, partners for life.

The opening notes of the song we had carefully selected for our first dance soon filtered through the speakers. Liam guided me out to the middle of the dance floor, pulling me flush against him as we began to sway to the tender melody, other guests cleared the path for us to dance, looking and cheering from a distance

"Hi wife," he murmured against my hairline, making me shiver pleasantly.

"Hi husband," I replied, feeling deliriously giddy. "Did you actually think we'd make it to this day a few years ago?"

"Not a chance," Liam chuckled ruefully. "When you sat down across from me at that cafe, I was so convinced you were out of my league that I almost bolted then and there."

Pulling back slightly, I fixed him with an incredulous look. "You're joking! That bold and fearless?"

"Fearless isn't the word I would've used back then, love," he said wryly. "More like terrified and self-loathing as all hell. If you hadn't practically hit me over the head with your interest, I probably would've kept on wallowing and never seen what was right in front of me."

A lump rose in my throat as I studied his dear face, chin trembling slightly. Damn these newlywed hormone surges already making me weepy! Liam seemed to sense the shift in my emotions, cupping my cheek tenderly with a concerned furrow in his brow.

"Hey now, it's our wedding day," he murmured. "No tears, yeah? Just focus on me - your hopelessly besotted husband who somehow managed to land an incredible woman like you."

"God, I love you," I murmured fervently, surging up to kiss him hard. A chorus of cheers and playful catcalls erupted around us as our family and friends clocked what was happening.

"Get a room, you two!" Louis' distinctive rasp sounded from the direction of the head table where he, Zayn, Harry and Niall all sat nursing tumblers of amber liquid.

"Give it a rest, Tommo - like you're one to talk about public displays," Liam shot back with a laugh, not taking his eyes off me. Our foreheads pressed together as we continued swaying slowly to the music, the rest of the reception fading away until it was just the two of us.

By the time the song ended and a new, upbeat jam with thumping bass came on, we were both breathless from snogging like a couple of teenagers. A sudden cacophony of hoots and hollering made me jump, whirling around to see our entire rowdy wedding party had flooded the dance floor around us.

Louis and Niall both had their dress shirts completely unbuttoned and ties hanging loosely, sleeves rolled up as they shuffled along uncoordinatedly to the music. Harry and Zayn appeared to have gotten ahold of some Vodka from the bar, sloshing it precariously with each lurching movement. Clearly the party had well and truly started!

Before I knew what was happening, a pair of hands seized me around the waist from behind, swinging me in a circle as raucous laughter sounded in my ear. I let out a rather undignified shriek, dissolving into helpless giggles when I recognized the culprit.

"Louis! You bonker, put me down!"

"Come and dance with your old mate Tommo, love!" he crowed gleefully, beginning to shuffle us both ridiculously to the music. Liam threw his head back with laughter at the image, windmilling his long arms as Niall attempted to twirl him with the same lack of coordination.

"I've got the bride, Tommo! You're stealing my thunder!" the Irishman hollered over the pumping bassline, flushed and sweaty from his gyrating antics.

Before things could descend into total chaos, Zayn smoothly cut in, whisking me away from Louis with a roguish wink.

"May I have this dance, oh wife of my esteemed brother?" he asked with exaggerated formality, expertly spinning us into the rhythm of the song. "Lads are being proper knobs tonight, I reckon we oughta represent a bit of class."

"Oi, I resemble that remark!" Louis squawked indignantly, throwing an arm around my shoulders and attaching himself to our dance like an overgrown limpet. Harry chose that moment to rejoin our bizarre conga line, wrapping himself around Zayn from behind with a mischievous grin.

The dance floor promptly devolved into absolute riotous pandemonium. With the five of us acting like a troupe of drunken circus performers, it wasn't long before others joined in the revelry. At one point, I spun away from our strange clump only to find myself sandwiched between two other couples from the wedding party who both assumed I was with them. I couldn't even keep track of Liam amidst the sea of writhing, laughing bodies.

Song after song blurred together, an infectious electricity coursing through the room that sent any sense of propriety out the window. My hair came fully down from its elaborate style, tendrils sticking to my sweat-slicked temples. I must have shucked my heels hours ago, bounding around the floor in my bare feet with little regard for my very expensive dress.

Just when I thought the energy couldn't possibly ramp up any further, the unmistakable opening beats of "Macarena" pumped through the speakers. An absolutely feral gleam lit up in Louis' eyes as he swung towards me with a borderline manic grin.

"YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS, LOVE!" he hollered, grabbing my hands and forcing them into the opening position for the iconic dance. I doubled over laughing as Niall, Harry and Zayn all flocked around us, throwing their limbs haphazardly in an attempt to replicate the moves. Liam completely off sync with them and just thrusting his hips instead.

Within seconds, it seemed like the entire reception had joined in on our ridiculous Macarena circle. I could scarcely breathe I was cackling so hard watching all these posh wedding guests throwing their bodies around shamelessly to the cheesy 90s beat. Even some of the elderly grandmothers in attendance were gamely following along, adding their own flair with terrible dad dancing.

At one point Niall, clearly having imbibed past the point of no return, toppled off-rhythm and crashed directly into me in a tangle of flailing limbs and flying alcohol. I only just managed to shove him off when my best friend Salem came barreling in to my defense, squaring up to Niall with blazing eyes.

"Get your clumsy arse off my girl, Barney!" she snarled, using the derogatory nickname for the Irishman she'd bestowed on him ages ago. Niall just blinked up at her owlishly before letting out a booming laugh, collapsing back onto the ground in a useless heap.

"Easy there, tiger! No need to knock my sparkling personality down a few more pegs!"

Salem snorted indelicately but allowed Louis and Harry to haul Niall's drunken arse back to his feet, his inhibitions clearly being a thing of the past. A few beats later and they had abandoned any efforts at real choreography, dissolving into sheer unbridled flailing to the chorus.

At least I wasn't the only one losing my marbles, I noted with a relieved giggle. My entire bridal party seemed to have been seized by the same temporary insanity, shedding all decorum in favor of nostalgic dad dance pandemonium. Even straight-laced Zayn was shimmying his shoulders outrageously in time with the music, grinning that lazy, infectious smile of his.

We danced, hollered and carried on through the entire 90s kick, drunkenly sloshing our way through everything from the Spice Girls' "Wannabe" to the unforgettable "Bye Bye Bye" by NSYNC.

At some point I acquired Harry's gaudy paisley print blazer and began wearing it as an inexplicable accessory. Louis seemed intent on stripping down to his pants but Salem and I managed to wrestle him back into his dress shirt, much to his raucous protests.

I laughed as I saw Liam twirling Niall around, and Harry taking off his blue blazer and twerking with his shirt half open , Zayn watching him in amusement and Louis -

"BUT I'M SO FIT THOUGH! LET ME SHOW THE LADS!" he hollered, wrapping those skinny arms around my neck from behind in a sloppy, sweaty headlock. Harry, ever the wind-up merchant, began egging him on by baring his own tattooed torso with a devilish cackle.

"You're right, Tommo - why hold back our masculine prowess on such a special night?"

"You're both disgusting," Zayn's gruff tones cut across the commotion, though his eyes danced with barely contained mirth. "Learn to control yourselves for once before you traumatize the entire wedding party."

A sudden wicked gleam sparked in Louis' eyes as he untangled himself from me, stalking towards Zayn with a predatory grin. In a shockingly swift move, he grabbed the front of Zayn's crisp white dress shirt and whipped it open, sending a spray of tiny pearl buttons ricocheting in every direction amid raucous cheers from the surrounding guests.

"THERE'S NOTHING TO BE ASHAMED OF, Z!" he hollered gleefully, seizing Zayn's flailing wrists before the darker man's modesty prompted him to cover up. "Ladies love the sexy lumberjack look!"

"Louis William Tomlinson, I swear on all that is HOLY-" Zayn's outraged bellow was swallowed up by the fresh wave of hysterical laughter that overtook everyone at the sight that ensued.

Whether egged on by the booze, the late hour or just the infectious euphoria of the day, Zayn seemed to decide that resistance was futile. Letting out a resigned groan, he allowed Louis to strip off his dress shirt completely, turning a few cursory circles with his gloriously tanned, tattoo-splashed torso on full display. The catcalls and awwws reached deafening levels as Zayn lifted those impressive arms over his head and danced slowly, almost prowlingly, the image of carnal grace.

He was definitely a vision to behold, all sinewy ropes of lean muscle and golden skin glistening under the soft lights. But then again, the entire night was quickly devolving into a glorious male revue regardless of his antics. Liam moved with an almost leonine sensuality despite his drunkenness, all rippling abs and biceps that strained against the thin fabric of his undershirt. Harry and Louis were all limbs and unbridled charisma as they flailed away, chests bare and shirts hanging open at this point.

Before I could even register what was happening, Salem was marching towards the center of the group with a wicked grin while shedding layers. I watched with wide, bemused eyes as my bold, brilliant friend began an impromptu lap dance on Niall right there in the middle of our bloody wedding reception. The roar of utter pandemonium was absolutely deafening as she rolled her hips over the gobsmacked Irishman, tawny limbs sleek and sinuous.

"Ohhhhh she's FILTHY!" Liam let out a shocked bellow of laughter, slinging an arm around my waist to steady himself. I could only gape incredulously as Salem continued putting on an absolute clinic for her captive audience, Niall's blissed-out expression speaking volumes.

The final straw broke when one of the bridesmaids grabbed a server's tray and began spinning it suggestively over her head like a makeshift stripper pole, drawing a fresh torrent of cheers and lewd gestures from the lads. That was apparently the breaking point for decorum - soon everyone was shimmying and shaking and grinding in an all-out bacchanalia that would make the most seasoned revue dancer blush.

I had tears streaming down my cheeks from laughing so hard at the unrepentant mayhem. Unable to take any more, I finally just allowed myself to collapse in a boneless heap on the floor, stomach aching from hysterics. The action didn't go unnoticed, and soon Louis and Niall had draped themselves over me like a pair of drunken dressing gowns while Harry twerked shamelessly above me in nothing but his obscenely tight pants.

"Oi oi, you lot having a party over here then?" he rumbled in that sinful rasp, dappled chest glistening and dimples cutting deep into those ludicrously chiseled cheeks. "Mind if I join?"

With that he promptly flung his whole, gloriously nude upper body onto the unholy pile of drunken limbs currently enveloping me, sending Sabrina into screaming hysterics all over again. At some point even Liam and Zayn succumbed, collapsing into one spent, breathless heap and dissolving into yet another fit of delirious giggles at the absolute debauchery surrounding us.

Louis had discarded most of his clothes entirely and somehow procured a comFedora which he wore at an obnoxious angle, leading a very uncoordinated conga line around the perimeter of the floor.

And poor Zayn, usually the quieter and more restrained of the group, looked to have reached his limit as the lads' antics became exponentially more zany. I watched in silent bemusement as he reached across the table, grabbed Liam by the lapels, and simply shouted "SAVE ME MATE, I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!" before promptly passing out in a heap on the floor right there. Trust Liam's boys to bring that perfect blend of chaos, ridiculousness and wholehearted love to the most special day of our lives!

Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, the shindig began to wind down. I stumbled over to where Liam was slumped in a chair, utterly depleted yet grinning like a lunatic, and unceremoniously draped myself across his lap with my head lolling against his shoulder. He let out a breathless laugh, nuzzling against my sweat-dampened hairline.

"What a night, eh Mrs. Payne?" he murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple. "Not sure whether to be mortified or just roll with it when it comes to your new brothers."

I lifted my head to meet his sparkling gaze, feeling deliriously overwhelmed with love and gratitude for this beautiful, mad family of ours.

"Roll with it, definitely," I replied firmly. "We wouldn't have had it any other way."

Mainblog

[dollarbin]

Dollar Bin #24: The Doors

Like every other wishing-he-were-cool Southern California white boy born in the mid-to-late 70's, I had a big Doors phase in 1990. In the year leading up to Oliver Stone's ridiculously silly, TV flinging, film I spent 10 rich months in the following fashion:

First, I copied a friend's father's double CD Door's Greatest Hits collection (the one with Jim Morrison's fabulous pecks on the cover). I was discovering music after comic books and I memorized every glorious moment.

Next, I tracked down the band's four easily accessible full albums via another friend's Costco (or was it still called Price Club at that point?) Nice Price 4 Pack and memorized all of that too, even though I found parts of Waiting For The Sun dull and much of LA Woman sorta gross.

Then, I decided that Not To Touch The Earth was actually their best song and that anyone who only knew the band's greatest hits was a poser.

Next, I enjoyed listening to my father's tall tales about how The Doors had once lived on the strand in Manhattan Beach (my hometown) and were often practicing in their garage when my dad passed by. He also claimed that Morrison had worked for him for one single day as a house painter (my father's trade) but that Jim had been too nuts to keep on the payroll. At other points in my dad's joyful imagination Charles Manson and Ginger Baker had also been on past crews; his lies, which were specifically designed to entertain us, led us to mock and roll our eyes at him when he sincerely claimed that one of his past painters, Robbie Rodgers, actually had gone on to be a relatively successful musician. But then dad scored us tickets and we went to see the dude's Reggae/slasher band, War Called Peace, open for Yellowman; it was totally nuts, and Robbie told us that my dad had changed his life.

After that, I learned of the existence of The Soft Parade and swore to myself that I'd never listen to it. My heroes, horrifyingly, had once SOLD OUT!

Next, I watched Apocalypse Now over and over, daydreaming of the day I'd get my own hands on The End's master tapes and undercover even more of Morrison's Oedipal ranting.

(All the while I had no idea what Oedipal actually meant.)

Throughout it all, I feverishly followed Robert Hilburn's updates in the LA Times on the back and forth on set about whether or not Val Kilmore would sing or lip sync in the upcoming film.

Shortly thereafter, I shook my fist in fury when Billy Idol dared to cover LA Woman. The poser!

That drove me to the library, where I got Riders on the Storm, Jim Densmore's Morrison bio. I read it feverishly, taking mental notes on how I too would one day successfully avoid the draft by demonstrating Morrison-level savvy madness.

Midway through Densmore's self-aggrandizing tome, I bought a copy of Wilderness, Morrison's slim and posthumous published poetry collection, and carried it around with me together with my copy of the Tao Te Ching, convinced that they were the two true holy books. Anyone who thought otherwise I recognized as a poser.

All the while, I spent a lot of time thinking about how Ray Manzarek doubled as the band's bass player and pianist all at the same time on one keyboard. I viewed him as Einstein with a chainsaw.

Somewhere along the way, I sought out an ancient tape copy of a disco sounding album the band made after Jim's death and noted that no one in the band had made meaningful music ever since. And so I grew slightly concerned that maybe my heroes were secretly lame.

But I still stood in line for opening night of the film and smugly mocked everyone else in line with me as a poser. Clearly, none of them knew the secret lyric, edited out, after She Gets! on Break on Through...

And I thought the movie was pretty cool!

Then I proceeded to grow sick of the whole thing - the band and everything about them was suddenly far too mainstream for my superior tastes - and I decided anyone who liked The Doors on any level was a poser. Lou Reed and Bob Dylan were all that mattered.

Then a cool older kid played me Peace Frog and I realized I'd missed a whole album (damn Costco!). So I decided The Doors were cool again for about 15 minutes.

Then, 10 months after the whole thing had started, I moved on for good.

But that's not entirely true. Years and year later, I sang my kids to sleep with The Spy and The Crystal Ship; and I can still can almost recite Morrison's poem about some dude burning leaves. Now that I summon it from the internet and read it again I still think it's pretty great:

A man rakes leaves into

a heap in his yard, a pile,

& leans on his rake &

burns them utterly.

The fragrance fills the forest

children pause & heed the

smell, which will become

nostalgia in several years

But now, I have to ask, how does one even go about listening to The Doors with any objectivity 33 years after they became the world's biggest band for a moment and 50 years after Morrison's death? I mean there's a 15 year old hipster in the high school where I teach who still wears a t-shirt with Morrison on it. I don't know if objectivity can be achieved.

But I'm giving it a shot right now as I write this.

My copy of their debut, self-titled, album is an original print supposedly, and the vinyl sure sounds like it's creeping up on its 60th birthday. Crackling thunder, seemingly borrowed from Riders on the Storm, buzzels and pops throughout. But the whole record sounds great that way, like it too was taken from the Ancient Gallery and WALKED ON DOWN THE HALL!

Fair reader, here's what I think: if I try hard and strip back all the nonsense I know about poor Jim and the band, then I'm left with what is elemental music.

Sure there's some silly stuff to be found: Morrison's lyric "specialize in having fun" from Take It As It Comes is, and always has been, embarrassing, along with basically all the lyrics to Light My Fire. And I don't really know that the organ's drunk circus vibe in Alabama Song holds up.

But listen to Manzarek spill every coin in the band's copious wallet on Take It As It Comes; remember just how cool the wandering guitar intro still is on The End, not to mention the slapping, rippling, pick me up 3/4 of the way through that wandering track; appreciate just how unhinged Morrison's screaming holler is on Back Door Man; ride on the perfect Crystal Ship. And for god's sake, just sit back and listen to Light My Fire.

What if we simply thought of The Doors alongside their actual peers from 66-71: Love, Buffalo Springfield, Jefferson Airplane, The Grateful Dead? What if we slowed down and remembered that the band did everything they did in under 5 years? What if we remembered, at the same time, just how much Stephen Stills still sucks? And what if we set aside for good just how damn magnetic poor Jim was? What if we just listened to The Doors?

I encourage you to give it a shot. Drop the needle on The Doors debut once a season; ride the King's Highway west; catch all the weird scenes in the goldmine. You too will wish The Doors practiced in a garage down your street.

-------------

Update! After posting this, my famous brother sent me this photo of Morrison. He's actually in Manhattan Beach!

I think my father, who, come to think of it, looked a hell of a lot like Morrison at that point, is just outside the frame, striding away after firing his ass. Rest in peace Jim.

[uh-velkommen]

Last night I finally got to see Aurora live in concert and it was.... fine.

Don't get me wrong, Aurora is an AMAZING live singer (though I hated that she started every verse just a second off beat and I think the complexity of her instrumentals dont really translate well live and boy does she love to ramble on tangents) but everything set wise was perfect so most of my issues were external (or maybe internal) - it did effect my viewing experience.

I discovered Aurora back in 2019, when I was at a disturbingly low place in my life. I remember sitting on the couch with my sister while frozen 2 played in the background. I was on my phone trying to figure out who The Voice was and it led me to the Apple Tree music video. For some reason, I hit play and immediately started crying. Like, I didn't realize how much had been coming down until I looked up at my sister and noticed how out of the blue these tears were. It wasn't even a particularly sad song but something about it, about her, made me well up inside and every night after that, without fail, I would listen to her music and cry. Whether in my own bed, out in public, late at night or the middle of the day. I assigned so much meaning to her lyrics, I projected everything I could ever want or wish to be onto Aurora. I made her music a physical manifestation of all my sadness.

I knew that I was going to cry that night. I had prepared to, drinking lots of water and carrying tissues in my pocket. But I thought it would just be normal "ong I love this celebrity and they're standing right in front of me" tears. Instead, it took me to that place that I had been in so many times before. Who would've guessed that seeing the artist, who I only listen to when I'm depressed, live would only make me feel depressed again. It's pavlovian. I looked around at the people dancing with joy and wondered why I couldn't find that kind of light in her performance. How could Aurora be on stage singing The River and smile? Why aren't these people bawling like me? She sang songs about finding hope and love within each other, and all the couples around me hugged and swayed along while I tried to comfort myself and not fall apart right then and there. These people related to Giving Into The Love, and I wondered why I couldn't find any. I wasn't just immersed in the music, I was breaking down in a crowded place, and not a single person turned to comfort me. Just as it had been in 2019 when I cried pure tears of hopelessness on a train platform, and suddenly, I remembered how it felt to be invisible in a crowd.

On top of that, my legs were giving in. The too-tall asshole stood in front of me had no concept of personal space. I was in physical and emotional discomfort. I needed to leave but Aurora was only 3 songs in. I recognized that I was getting irritated by the man in front of me but knew that if I were to move, I'd be giving up my "as close as possible" spot. I moved to like 4 different spots that night, further each time where the bass felt lighter and the sound got quieter, just trying to see her on stage and I couldn't for like 60% of the show, which made me more sad. It felt like someone was waving a lollipop in front of me but every time I tried to grab it, a wall appeared. I couldn't even visually enjoy it, so I just stood in the back, throwing a temper tantrum. I mean, I was already emotionally vulnerable, so everything bothered me tenfold. It was supposed to be perfect. It was supposed to be a good cathartic night, and it wasn't.

And while Aurora danced around on stage, my mind, without any visuals to distract, wandered back to 2019. Back to University, back to Norway, back to Sweden, back to the beginning of this year. Every memory projected onto her. I wished I could just be as happy as she looked. I wished I had a life like hers.

I clearly wasn't mentally present the whole night. I was irritated by the venue, the crowd, the cold, my pain (I also just had a tooth pulled that morning so I did little shouting). I felt alone and angry that no one could see how much this night meant to me. No one was giving me special treatment, letting me crowd surf to the front (/j). I wasn't special because of how I consumed her art.

And it was a unique crowd at that because no one really sang along. We all stood there quiet just to really hear her vocals - which I loved, but I would've loved it even more in a sitting venue, where I could see the damn stage.

[sol-aranea]

The Party (Peter Maximoff x reader)

Warnings: Underage drinking, parties, Candy Crush

Uncertainty tainted my excitement as Mason led me into the huge house containing the party he’d somehow managed to convince me to go to. Blue and red lights burst through the windows, loud music muffled by the thick walls. My stomach tightened when I found myself quickly in the midst of hundreds of drunk high school seniors and juniors. Never that fond of crowds, I clung to Mason. He apparently took notice of the terror I felt and led me to a small group of people sitting at a shitty white fold out table. One I knew, three  I didn’t. I nervously surveyed each one, not meaning to pry into their minds. Only one of them was a creep. Said creep watched me with dark eyes as Mason and I approached. His brown hair was greasy and stuck to his forehead, a very unappealing trait. He grinned at me. I shuttered. His grin disappeared quickly. Mason laughed at the short exchange, and steered me toward two girls that were smiling up at me. I smiled back as a courtesy as they introduced themselves.

By the end of the hour, I had finally met the rest of the “Notorious Four” as Mason called them. They were his friends that caused the most trouble. Lily, the one I’d already met, was the most responsible of the bunch. Henry, Lily’s boyfriend, was apparently a handful and had a habit of getting detentions for talking too much and too vulgarly. Then, we had Nate, the one that was high all the time, and ended up offering me some weed. After I politely declined, Mason introduced his last friend, Ethan. The creepy one. I had smiled awkwardly at him as he did the same to me.

I had eventually ended up in the nearest bathroom, hiding from the loud noises outside. Nursing a beer and a headache I’d gained in the last two hours I’d been there, I sat on the ground, my foot against the door to keep any excited couples out. The door had been nearly breached at least twice now. As a new song kicked up, bass beating my head to a pulp, the door tried to open once more. I groaned. A random guy managed to stick his head through the crack, desperate eyes meeting mine.

“Please–god– share your hiding spot. I’m dying out here.” I raised my eyebrows at the request. “How can I trust you won’t expose me?” I questioned. I barely kept in a laugh as he struggled to push his hand into my sight, pressing his index and middle finger together. “Scout’s honor.” I laughed and pulled my foot away from the door, letting him slip in and shut it behind him. He immediately fell to the floor beside me, his head hitting the wall with a soft thump. The dim, blue lights of the small bathroom made it hard to fully see him, and I tried hard to see if I recognized him.

“Am I that pretty?” He snorted. I laughed and pushed him away. He let out a huff as he righted himself. “If you’re gonna stay in my refuge, I should know your name.” He grinned. “Your refuge? I thought I let you in.”

“Nope. This is a takeover. I’m now the owner of this fine bathroom.” More laughter came out of me around this random guy than in the last year. “Ah yes the fine “Third Floor Bathroom Number 2, led by..” I gestured for him to finish. He slung his hands out in a dramatic fashion and said, “Peter Maximoff!” I couldn’t help the smile that forced it’s way to my face. “Joined by, of course, his trusty second-in-command..” He did a similar gesture for me to continue. I let my arms fly out like his, nearly smacking him in the face. “Y/N Miller!” We both fell into a laughing fit, spilling my drink in the process.

Peter cursed loudly and  snatched the hand towel off of the sink, crouching to soak it up as I scooted away from the spill. In the cramped bathroom, that now seemed a lot smaller, I found myself dangerously close to the boy. He didn’t seem to notice the lack of space between us, or ignored it to save me from embarrassment. Once he had the crappy drugstore beer cleaned up, he slid back into the corner where he was sitting, beckoning me to join him. I sat back against the wall and leaned my head back like he did. I let my eyes close, listening as the bass-boosted music shifted into a smooth electric guitar. My hand began to tap on my thigh with the bass guitar. “I love this song.” Peter breathed next to me. I recognized it as I opened my eyes and turned to him. He had also resumed his head-back position, a smile on his lips with closed eyes. His knee swayed with the beat and his head slightly lolled to the side as he listened to the smooth music. I found myself admiring the stranger before me. He cracked one eye open, looking at me comically. I laughed at the cartoonic action. He grinned at me.

“You know you’re really pretty when you listen to music. Makes a man wanna join you and pray he’s pretty too.” Taken aback by his sudden compliment, I froze a bit. Taking my reaction as a bad one, he groaned and covered his eyes. “Who am I kidding? You’ve probably got a boyfriend, don't you?”

His assumption was wrong. “No.” I said. “I don't.” A grin appeared on those pink lips when his fingers parted to show his eye. I couldn’t help but let my own study his. In the blue light, his eyes looked black, like pupil had melded with iris. I tried to imagine him with conventionally attractive eyes, blue or green, but none fit him as perfectly as this void that made up his eyes. They reminded me of the times I’d lay on my driveway or in the bed of my dad’s truck, staring up at the starless night sky to ask for answers no one could give me. Those eyes made me feel like he could. Like if I stayed long enough with him, he could explain everything to me. He could console that long-nagging part of my soul that's been begging to die with my mother. I wanted to stay with him.

We sat there for hours, sometimes talking, sometimes just listening to the music. I learned he went to my school's rival school, and that he was 16 like me. He had a passion for old video games, like me, and even liked old rock too. I learned more about him in four hours than I had Mason in two years. I learned he didn’t know his dad, like I barely knew my mother. He couldn’t decide if he hated him for not. I told him we could share my dad, and he just smiled sadly at me. I learned he had a little sister named Wanda, and that she was all he had that mattered to him. I learned he was terrified she’d be a mutant, terrified someone would kill her for it. I told him about my powers and how I could help keep her safe. He told me about his too. He was apparently really fast, and demonstrated this by getting us snacks in under a second.

When we were both tired and unwise, Peter heaved a deep sigh, sliding down the wall to lay down, resting his head on my thigh. I raised my eyebrows at the silver-haired boy, and was returned a sleepy grin. I didn’t force myself to smile. “Y’know,” Peter started, “You’re one of the coolest and hottest and nicest people I’ve met.”

“Yeah?” I wasn’t really paying attention to his words if I’m being honest. I was watching him slowly fall asleep on my legs, making them cramp from the position they were in. My own brain was fuzzy enough with sleep to make it hard to focus on anything but the person below me. “Yeah.” He hummed back. “It’d be a shame if I left here without your number.” He gave a goofy grin, eyes crinkling with genuinity. I smiled back, grabbing his phone from where it laid on his chest, Candy Crush still open. I squinted against the bright pinks and whites of the game and pressed the home button. I quickly added my number to a contact, stopping to take a picture of myself, and adding it. I typed my name and pressed done. He took his phone from me, also taking a picture. He sent it to me and looked up at me, mouth slightly hanging open.

“Now there’s no getting rid of me.” Peter’s eyes had softened, his grin turning into a small smile. I let myself play with his hair, my fingers slipping through the silver strands. It was so soft. His eyes closed while I ran my fingers through, pushing it out of his face. A content sigh left him. 

He shot up when my phone started ringing. Barely missing my head with his own, he scrambled off of me so I could reach it. I laughed as I slipped it out of my back pocket. Looking at the screen, I felt my own sense of panic rise in my throat. Dad. I cursed, answering. 

“Y/n Miller, where are you?” My father’s voice was instant, worry and anger drenching it. Ever since my mom died, he’d been constantly worried about me. “I’m still at that party, don’t worry. I just lost track of time.”

Dad sighed. “Just get home before three a.m., please. You have work tomorrow.” I confirmed his wishes, standing up as I hung up. 

“Everything okay?” Peter stood with me, his own kind of worry on his face. I nodded. “My dad just needs me home. I forgot I have work tomorrow.” I explained. “I can run you home.” he offered. I hesitated at the door. The faster I got there, the less stressed Dad would be. I nodded, and he gently placed one hand at the back of my head and the other on my waist. The proximity was noticeable. “Address?”

I told him, and suddenly everything was moving way too fast, and then I was home. Dazed, I swayed in Peter’s arms, nausea flooding my stomach. He caught me and held me steady until I was stable. I gave a breathy laugh, a hand on his shoulder. “That really sobers a girl up.”

He laughed as I stepped away, heading toward the front door of my house. Stuffing the key in, I opened the door to a very large Joel Miller. “Hi Dad.” His eyes weren’t on me, though. They were on the sixteen year-old behind me. “Who are you?” Peter smiled nervously. “Peter Maximoff. I’m–” “I don’t care.”

“But–” “Who is this boy, Y/n?” oh jesus. “His name is Peter Maximoff. He’s a friend. He’s kind, smart and likes the same old man music you do.” I pushed past my father and moved toward the kitchen. “Did he do anything?” My face scrunched up. “God– No Dad!” I pulled the apple pie out of the fridge. “He’s just a friend.” Dad threw his hands in the air. “How should I know? I haven’t seen you all night! Mason came and got you and you've been gone for hours! How do I know you’re not lying to me?” He was panicking. “Dad, no–”

“Do you have any idea how scared I just was?” “Daddy, come here.” I grabbed his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. “I’m alright. I’m here. If Peter had done anything, you know I’d tell you.” He hugged me tightly, terrified to let me go. “I just lost track of time.” Dad nodded.

“We should both go to bed now.” I offered. He nodded again.

While Dad left to go to bed and I ate my pie, my phone buzzed.

Everything ok?

I quickly added a contact for Peter before I responded.

Yeah, Dad was just worried.

            It was rare that he panicked like that though.

Im sorry for keeping you too long. 

I sighed, putting the rest of the pie away. It’s not your fault. we both lost time.

It wasn’t until I was in bed that he texted back.

for a guy whos got superspeed, i always seem to do that

[tjreidwrites]

The End Matters

A short story by Taylor Joseph Reid

My loft bed had a desk underneath and that’s where I did my homework and played video games. I had been practicing different combos against the CPU on Mortal Kombat until my thumbs ached. I knew if I played long enough for that to happen, then bedtime was around the corner. Sixth grade had only started, and tomorrow was a school day.

“I’m turning your lights out for you,” Mom said. “And Joe, you need to wake up when your alarm goes off tomorrow. I have way too much to do in the mornings as it is. It’s not my job to wake you up.”

“Got it, Mom.” I climbed the ladder and got in bed.

“Okay, goodnight.”

I said goodnight. She told me she loved me, and I said it back. Apparently, I said it too quietly because she replied, “What was that?”

“I love you too!”

She laughed and clicked my bedroom light off.

Sleep never came right when the lights went out. I stared mindlessly at the posters hung up by thumbtacks on the wall beside me. They were crinkled rectangles with blobs that couldn’t be recognized in the darkness for the Pokemon characters they were. I stared at the distorted images hoping my eyes would tire out.

It wasn’t working. I sighed and turned on my back, staring up at the black blank ceiling. Should I just keep trying to go to sleep? The thought alone made my mind race. What twelve-year-old needs eight hours of sleep anyway?

I sat up and reached down by my feet. A Gameboy Advance SP loaded up with Pokémon. Next to the Gameboy was my portable CD player and headphones. Both devices were lodged between the mattress and bed frame where I left them. I grazed the Gameboy but wasn’t in the mood to hide the light of the console under my blanket. I opted for the music and only the music.

I put the headphones on. The soft plush gently conformed to my ears. The sense of isolation from the outside world was now complete. At home in bed with the lights off and a pair of padded headphones on. Away from everything. Not bad at all. My video games served me as the ultimate escape, but even those adventures were worth getting away from sometimes. With a little help from music, I could create my own worlds.

Most of the records I owned were Christian music CDs I got from family members for birthdays and Christmas. Even though I liked some of the music, I was sick of those same old songs and obsessed with my latest disc. It was the first one I bought with my very own money! I never heard anything quite like it! I don’t think my mom and dad would have cared if they knew I had Linkin Park’s first release, Hybrid Theory, but I kept it a secret anyway. They had this thing about ‘secular music.’ I don’t know. Not going there. Besides, I didn’t like my parents knowing every little thing about me anyway. Having some secrets, big or small, felt right. Made me feel normal.

I lifted the comforter up to my neck and got cozy. I put the player by my side and grazed the buttons until I found the indented sideways triangle and pressed it.

The heavy-hitting trip-hop beat in the intro of ‘Papercut’ caused me to sink my head even further into the pillow. I shut my eyes and smiled as the turntable sounds went off. One measure later, the emotional hit of the full band—drums, guitar, and bass—came flooding in through my ears.

The explosiveness of the band with its genre-bending iconic nu-metal and alternative sound is what drew me in, but the lyrics and vocals are what made me obsessed. I let the music take me on a ride. It's like a whirlwind inside of my head. It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within. It's like the face inside is right beneath my skin.

I pressed my eyes shut tight. Then tighter. White flashing fireworks exploded behind my eyelids with purple lights trailing behind like sparks of lightning that danced to the beat. I was on top of the world and only halfway through the first song.

Gooseflesh raised up on my arms as Chester sang, “The sun goes down. I feel the light betray me. The sun goes down. I feel the light betray me.” I could tell that his singing voice was coming from deep within him. It was beyond powerful. It was like his personal pain and joy of performing was its own entity, extending an arm to understand. I knew they (Linkin Park) understood me too. It’s not like they wrote the songs for me, but as if they wrote the songs for people like me.

I never knew how to express what it felt like to get picked on and bullied and made fun of as a kid. Who knew having a stutter and a little extra belly fat could be such a detriment? I was angry and confused when older kids would call me things like fat and worthless or spit on me while they circled around me on bikes like vultures. I was just trying to walk home from school. I never bothered anyone. There was a time when I was even younger, and a different set of kids pushed me to my knees and kicked the breath out of me if I tried to leave the park to go home. They would trap me there. Why? I don’t know. I had built up some anger and confusion, but it was more than that. More unexplainable feelings that I didn’t have words for. All the memories I wanted to repress but couldn’t get to leave. These songs had a way of making me feel better. They gave me ideas I didn’t know how to express with words. When I listened, I could think about the things in life better forgotten through a different lens. Does everyone feel like this when a band resonates with them?

The angst I had must have rivaled the most pissed-off twelve-year-olds on earth. When Chester screams, “Shut up when I’m talking to you, shut up! Shut up!” I mouthed the words.

Suddenly, the fireworks that were behind my eyes flipped and morphed into stage lights, and in a flash, I’m standing in a crowd. A sold-out concert. It's them. All six of them. Spikey blonde hair and everything. The moment of being with the crowd was short. I blink, and now I’m up on stage. Mike Shinoda even introduced me to the crowd. “We want to welcome our friend Joe Kennedy to the stage for this next one!” I have a mic clutched tight in both hands. I sang the entire next song with them. I’m screaming alongside Mike and Chester! How is this possible?

During the times I was stuck listening to my parents argue, I snuck out of the house so I didn’t have to listen to what they had to say to each other. I would rather go to the park and make believe I was a character from one of my favorite anime or video games, someone with power. Power and control. I’d launch myself off the swing at the height of its elevation point and barrel roll across the wood chips, springing up in a fighting position. Make-believe is nice. I get to be far from the things that bother me. If I would have stayed and listened to my parents fight, it would only end in me fighting myself. How much of it is my fault? Is it my fault?

Even though the next song called ‘Crawling’ was surely not written about the imminent divorce of one’s parents, it still made me feel like I wasn’t as alone.

To find myself again

My walls are closing in

(Without a sense of confidence, I'm convinced)

(That there's just too much pressure to take)

I've felt this way before

So insecure

I was still riding the wave, but my eyeballs began to flutter, telling me sleep was around the corner. The song ‘By Myself’ had me imagining myself behind the drum kit. I knew how to play a little bit, but I wanted to get better. Maybe if I was a good drummer, my classmates would think I was cool. Then Chester let out that piercing high scream, “Myself! I ask why, but in my mind, I find I can’t rely on myself, myself!” And I can almost feel a scratching in my throat. How does he do that? That scream. How does he sing like an angel and scream like that? I’m going to learn.

And maybe the opening piano of ‘In the End’ is what finally lulled me to sleep.

The angelic line, “It starts with one…” I enter the space where a daydream becomes a real dream. I fly through cold clouds under an ethereal moonlight, flipping and turning and going the speed of sound. The crowd screams its applause. I can hear it from the sky. Maybe it's for me, maybe it's for Linkin Park. “In the end, it doesn’t even matter…” because the applause is for you.

But the words of the song don’t mean that nothing matters or that life lacks substance. No, I don’t think that's what they wanted to convey. It's about the futility of trying to control what we can't. In the end, it won’t matter if the bully kicks you down; you can’t change them. Did you stand up for yourself? If your parents get divorced, you can’t make them love each other. Did you ask them to try one more time? Did they? That’s out of your control. If the love of your life leaves you, you can’t make them love you. You can’t even make yourself love you, so how could you make them do that? If your best friend betrays you, you can’t make them care as much as you do. If your boss fires you, they don’t know what you sacrificed away from the job, but they don’t care, and you can’t make them care. Did you do enough for yourself during all of this?

My dream becomes a premonition, and I truly am on stage. I’m older now. I’m not sharing the stage with LP anymore. It’s my very own band. Our own song worlds. I scream my best scream. It's as close to Chester’s tone as it gets for me. Maybe he’d smile if he knew. Shoot, maybe he knows better than anyone.

The crowd’s applause is deafening. “Thank you so, so much,” I say into the mic. The stage lights let up, and I can see in front of me. So many people. But there's a spotlight on the one I’m meant to notice. I’m at a loss for words. It’s me. Just from a moment ago. My old self. A wide-eyed kid that’s going to get yelled at in the morning when his mom has to shake him awake. He was too busy daydreaming to fall asleep when the lights clicked off. Then dreams inspired by his favorite band. The one that got him through everything.

The End (matters)

[vee-crytraps]

Good Luck, Babe! | Ch 1-5 | Ice Cream for Breakfast

{Trigger Warning/Themes Masterlist} This is split into a billion parts because it's long as hell! Read on Ao3 to avoid the headache!

The uptown warehouse turned gentrified party spot thrummed with heavy bass and colored lights. A mile long snack table lines one edge of the room, parallel to one stacked high with gifts. Almost every person in your grade that you could stand was there, along with a healthy smattering of ‘family friends’.

Several of your older guests were in and out, but made sure to greet you with kissed cheeks and generic comments about how much you’ve grown.

You didn’t bat an eye at the quick goodbyes, all too aware that even you couldn’t expect Superman clear his schedule on your birthday.

He earned his beads all the same, only stopping on his way out to boast about his birthday points to your bead-less father.

Lost in your snickering, you hardly noticed the figure that approached you from behind. 

Jonathan Kent wore a sheepish smile as he wished you a happy birthday. For a moment you found yourself shocked into total silence, having recognized his bright blue eyes and dark hair, but completely taken aback by his newfound height.

Puberty had hit you like a train, but it had hit Jon like a Kryptonian.

“Jon?! Jesus, you’re like a whole foot taller!” You laughed, pulling him into a hug. “Does Damian know? He’s going to be so pissed.”

“You look pretty great yourself,” he returns, shouting over the music.

“I know, right?” You can’t help but do a little spin, your plastic tiara and polyester ‘Birthday Girl’ sash clashing with your outfit. 

As soon as you’re done showing off, you grab his hands in yours and lead him to the dance floor. “Come on, let’s dance!”

You can’t help but notice that the steps he takes are much longer than yours. He must be something like six-foot-five.

Checkerboard LED tiles flash to the beat, silhouetting your guests in its neon light. You only know less than half of them, and of those people, most were more familiar with your brothers than with you. You try not to think about how sad that makes you feel, opting to fill yourself up with the compliments and birthday wishes they holler as you pass. You can feel the bass beneath your feet as you move with Jon, pulled out of your head by his laughter.

 He’s clumsy, sometimes tripping over his own feet in a way that almost makes you forget that he's an indestructible superhero. 

It doesn't seem to bother or embarrass him, and you can't help but envy that earnest Kent confidence he seems to absolutely sparkle with.

 “I can’t believe you’re wearing a tiara!” His unruly curls fall in his face as he moves with you, a charming grin plastered on his face. Jon laces your fingers together, spinning you in a purposefully ungraceful manner just to make you laugh.

It works.

You successfully fight the urge to play it off, hoping to match his confidence by owning up your silly choice in birthday accessories. “What’s wrong with it? I look adorable!” 

“You always look adorable!”

“Oh yeah?” You ask, hair falling out of place as you move to the song.

“Yeah!” He nods, pulling you close. “No amount of gaudy birthday junk could make you any less lovely!”

You wonder if he knows that the creeping warmth in your cheeks isn't solely caused by the heat in the room. 

“Oh my god, you’re so sweet!”

The modest heel of your shoe barely assists you as you throw your arms around his neck, using what little slight of hand you kept from your Robin days to slip the rest of your beads onto him.

“Damian doesn’t deserve you!” You joke, poised to kiss his cheek before you’re yanked back by your sash. Somehow you manage to steady yourself before you totally eat it, and you turn to face a furious Silas.

“What the fuck?” He asks, gesturing between you and Jon- who, to his credit, posts up behind you in support.

Thankfully the guests around you seem undisturbed. While you knew it wasn't okay for Silas to pull on you like that, you were more concerned that it was happening in front of an audience. For the first time in a while, you were thankful that none of your brothers were around to witness the budding scene. 

“That wasn’t very nice of you,” Jon frowns, setting his hands on your shoulders. “Is there something you need?”

“It’s okay, Jon.” You manage, patting his hand.

Silas grabs the wrist of your other hand, pulling you through the party. You don't resist, keeping your shoulders from tensing and your heart from racing. You'd much rather deal with this in private, beneath the radar of your more protective guests. Otherwise, this could get ugly. Fast.

Panic and confusion twists in your gut and you wave off a concerned looking Jon, calling over your shoulder as you’re led into a stairwell. 

“Go try a cupcake! I’ll be right there!”

Part 6