#i turn the volume down because beyonce says fuck

[bandaigaeru]

19 - han jisung

synopsis: when you turn nineteen, the first words your soulmate says to you appear on your wrist. you all know that tiktok trend. word count: 6.8k

i.

You gawk at the blank canvas of your wrist. Soon, words would fill the skin and thus seal your fate.

It's common folklore that in the early ages, two Greek Gods by the names of Aphrodite and Ares were sent to Earth. They traveled the land until they came across two mortals. An old married couple living on a farm just outside of today's Patras. Aphrodite was known for enticing people into conversations with her beauty. Over time, the topic drifted to the pair's longlasting marriage as Aphrodite airily asked, "How did you know you were meant to be?"

The elderly duo shared a look attended by small smiles. The man spoke, "We don't truly know, but the feelings in our hearts lead us to believe we are."

Aphrodite was shocked. Something as pure and sacred as love was being tossed around by the mortal world. So, she looked at her husband and ordered him to contact his parents (who were widely seen as the monarchs of the Olympians). After a long argument, Ares managed to pull through. He had convinced his mother, Hera, to pull some strings. From that moment forward, mortals' wrists would be tainted with the first words that their loved ones say to them, but only after the mortal reaches the legal age.

However, this deal would only happen under one condition. Wars and violence would become common among the mortals to counteract the joy that comes with easily finding a lover. Ares took this feat with joy. He made his wife happy while simultaneously becoming the god of war.

Or at least that's what we think happened.

"Y/N? You in there?" the boy across the table waves a hand in front of your face.

Glancing up, you offer a meek smile. "Yeah. Sorry."

"Are you thinking about the words again?" he asks, leaning forward.

He rests his forearms against the cafe's table for a moment before reaching out for your hands. For a moment he just holds them. But then he brings them to his lips and kisses your knuckles. In a low voice, he states assertively, "We're in this for the long haul, babe. It's you and I 'til the end. Remember?"

You smile, butterflies clashing against the caves of your stomach. "Of course. Y/N and Hyunjin until the very end."

You retract your hands to bring the straw to your lips. The boy ahead of you simply watches your motions with heart eyes. When he had turned nineteen, he refused to look at the words. He wanted to wait for you. And now, a little less than two weeks separate you from the ultimate conclusion. Even though he was confident you were the one, thoughts at the back of your mind nag the dreaded possibility.

You look over to the road beside the cafe. Through the window, a teenage girl walks her small dog. Beyond that, a traffic jam sheathes the road with cars.

"Hey, um, Changbin and I were thinking about throwing a party for your birthday. Are you up for that?" Hyunjin slips his phone out of his pocket.

As he's unlocking it, you reply, "Yeah that sounds fun. Who all are you going to invite?"

"The boys and whichever friends you want me to," he pushes his phone towards you. It's displaying an empty note page. He continues, "Just put whoever you want."

You adjust the device in your palms before typing out the list of friends you wanted to celebrate with. Kijeong never fails to serve for a good party. Doyoung has connections to getting expensive alcohol. Momo always brings Japanese candies. And so on.

When you slide the phone across the matte tablecloth, Hyunjin marvels at the list. "How do you know this many people?"

"There's only like ten people," you giggle. Then, you tap your finger on your chin and ask, "Don't you know over a hundred?"

As if you had hit a soft spot, he winces back dramatically. "No! It's more like eighty-nine."

A giggle bubbles up from your core and you feel at peace. For once, you weren't stressing over those stupid words. Hyunjin has that effect on you. He could probably distract you from WWIII if it ever happened. And for that, he has to be your soulmate. He just has to.

ii.

Hyunjin had gone out of town on a school trip, leaving you in Seoul with nothing to do but sit around and read heartfelt testimonies of others' first words. One had mentioned that the couple had been dating for barely a week before the words appeared. And then, when they found out that they were dating their soulmate, they got married spontaneously in Las Vegas. Like from a rom-com.

You wanted to be the main character of a rom-com too.

A knock sounded from the other side of your door. Quickly closing the tab and opening your homework, you shout, "Come in!"

Your mother peaks her head in with a drastic bright smile. "Hey there, sweet thang."

"Hi, mom," you chuckle at her goofiness. She enters the room with your dog, Fluffy, trailing close behind.

"I just came in here to talk about the whole nineteen shebang," she sighs, folding her leg under her as she takes a seat at the foot of your bed.

You sit up, adjusting your pillow behind your back. Her smile fades as she begins, slightly hesitant, "Do you have a plan for if it's not Hyunjin?"

"What?" your eyebrows twist. You pick at the corner of your laptop with your nails.

"I'm not saying that he won't be, but have you considered all the outcomes?"

"No, but I don't have to. I know it's him," you shake your head. And suddenly, the doubts come flooding in again. A lot of the stories you've read show a common denominator. A couple that has been dating for a while becoming heartbroken when they've realized what they felt wasn't true love.

Your mother presses her lips into a fine line before glancing down at Fluffy for reassurance. He stares up at her with a smile, tongue hanging from his mouth carelessly. As she releases a heavy breath that seemed to weigh down the rest of the room, she announces, "Whatever happens, just know me and your dad will always be here for you. We love you, Y/N."

Tears begin to pool in your eyes. Stumbling over your words you manage to push out, "I-I love you too, Mom."

Patting the bed, she pushes herself up. "Then I'll leave you to it. Do you want me to take Fluffy?"

You shake your head, "No, leave him here."

She gently sets the Pomsky on your bed. You open your arms to the dog and he barrels towards you. Your mother closes the door on the way out, leaving you alone with the heartbreaking thoughts and a dog to cry into.

Fresh tears fall onto the dog's fur and he curiously looks up at you. He cocks his head to the side and whimpers. In an attempt to stop the mysterious liquid, he licks at your cheeks.

"Fluffy," you sob with an unstable voice as you hug him tightly. "what am I gonna do?"

Outside the door, your mother stands. A hand is covering her mouth to muffle the cries of her own. The buildup of your childhood is reaching a standstill in a week's time. You would be free to make your own decisions and what would your mother have left to do? It was time for you to leave her shelter.

Quivering, your mother lets her hand fall to her side. She has to be strong for you right now. One of your biggest moments is approaching. Sadness cannot deter her support. Although tears are still slipping from her eyes, she straightens her posture and advances down the hall.

iii.

Kijeong sits at your mirror with a glow in her eyes. It had been months since she had gone to a good, unforgettable party. The goosebumps trailing down her legs are a sign it's going to be good, she claims.

But you think it's because your dad cranked the AC up.

"Wear the skirt and the sweater," Kijeong advises. She brings her Starbucks to her mouth, contorting her lips in a funky way so that she doesn't ruin her red lipstick.

You glance down at the outfit she had chosen. It's a fuzzy lavender sweater and a high-waisted black skirt.

"It's cold outside," you protest, looking back at her.

She looks at you as if you've dethroned Beyonce and put Kanye in her place. "Is the party outside? No. Put the outfit on. We're gonna be late."

"Fine, dear party master," you mumble.

You retreat to the bathroom to change. As you're tugging the sweater over your body, you look in the mirror. Huffing, you stomp back to your room. "I look like a psycho Furby that just escaped the asylum."

Kijeong rolls her eyes as she stands from the comfort cave of your bed. She advances to you, tucking your sweater in. "Now you look like a Furby hooker who I'd gladly fuck given the chance."

"My legs feel naked," you cross your legs and ball your fists to hold the skirt down.

"Then put on some fishnets," Kijeong rummages through your closet. She huffs, blindly sweeping her hand on the overhead shelf. Humming in content, she tosses the leggings at you.

You can't win with the party girl.

Barely ten minutes later, you're stepping out of your house with your mother hanging in the door frame. "Be careful. Text me as soon as you find out!"

"Of course," you shout back at her reassuringly as you're climbing into the passenger seat of Kijeong's black Toyota Corolla.

Upon startup, the radio is blaring rap music in a language you're unfamiliar with. She bumps her head to the beat as she pulls onto the road. You stare down at the wallpaper of your phone. It's a photo of you and Hyunjin on your first date to the movie theaters. His head is on your shoulder and his hand is squeezing your cheeks. He looks up at you with those loving eyes and a simper.

Rolling down the volume, Kijeong glances over at you. She nibbles on the inside of her cheek before saying, "I know this is stressful for you, but just live through tonight as if we were partying under normal circumstances. It sounds like shitty advice, but trust me."

Though your shoulders are still weighed down with stress, you smile. "Thanks, Ki."

"I'll stick around you for the whole night if you need me to. And that's saying a lot. Doyoung's bringing wine from the Iberian peninsula and I want that shit," she lightens the mood.

You stifle a laugh. "I can handle it. You go drink that expensive shit."

Kijeong maintains the glimmer of a smile on her lips until she pulls up to Changbin's house. It wasn't necessarily a mansion, Changbin always claimed. In the flesh, however, the truth unveiled a different story.

"Holy shit," you marvel, looking up at the intricately carved pillars.

At the front door, Hyunjin is there to welcome you. He holds a red solo cup as he's welcoming you with a hug. When you finally pull away, he offers it to you.

"What is it?" you inquire.

"Some kind of fancy wine Doyoung brought," he informs, peeking into the cup as if to examine the dark liquid.

Kijeong snatches it from his hand. She downs it before either of you can react.

"That's good shit," she coughs,  "Where's Doyoung?" Her eyes are wide, like a crazed killer feeling the first euphoria of killing.

Still taken aback, Hyunjin slowly gestures over his shoulder. "He's in the ki-"

But it's too late. She's already on the hunt.

Shaking his head in utter awe, he refocuses back to you. "So, how does it feel?"

You coerce a somewhat genuine smile to rest on your lips as you say, "I'm not sure. I guess I'm just feeling nostalgic?"

Hyunjin nods along to your carefully chosen words. To make you feel better, he leans to your ear and whispers, "That's the thrill of becoming an adult, darling."

One of Hyunjin's friends (Seungmin, you think his name was) lunges into Hyunjin, knocking him back from you. "Bro, Jeongin's about to do a fucking keg stand. You've got to see this," he shouts, guiding Hyunjin to the backyard.

Over his shoulder, Hyunjin yells, "Duty calls."

You slowly walk around, taking in the monumental views of parties. People making out on the couch. A girl twerking on the wall. And even someone puking behind the couch.

The humidity of the living room suffocates you. And despite the sea of people wading in your personal space, you have never felt so lonely. The promise ring Hyunjin had bought you strangles your finger almost as much as it was mentally suffocating you.

Your breaths become ragged as people block your view on every side. Desperately, you push through. Beads of sweat congregate in the threads of your fishnets.

A flash of fresh air slaps you across the face as you finally break through. Ahead of you, the back door is ajar. You can spot Hyunjin cheering on a group of people playing cup pong. That Jeongin kid must've finished his keg stand. Or chickened out. He catches your stare. He sends a smile before leaning in to the game to say something. And then, he's walking towards you.

No. You can't face him right now.

Quickly, you fade into the hallway. Glancing into the cracks of each door, you eventually find solace in the bathroom. You lock the door behind you before rushing to the toilet. The anxiety caught up with you and your lunch is now sitting in the toilet. Splashes of yellow cling to the bowl as you flush.

Still shaking, you approach the sink. You rinse the suds off of your hands before splashing your face with the cool water. Rejuvenated, you dry off your hands. Droplets of water fall from your face. You pull your sweater up, using the hairy fabric to lessen the moisture.

Though fresh, you still can't build the courage to reemerge into the pool of bodies.

You glance down at your phone. 11:19. Only forty-one minutes separate you.

You could camp in the bathroom until then. It's a safe haven.

For the remaining time, you sit by the toilet just in case. When there's only one minute left, you roll up your sleeve and stare at the empty skin.

As the clock strikes midnight, your wrist aches. You wince, gazing down. Beneath your skin, what feels like fire ants work together to ink the words letter by letter.

Your heart hangs in your throat. The world stops spinning and you're just sitting there, staring at your arm. The door shakes as someone knocks from the other side.

"Y/N? You in there?" Hyunjin's voice sounds through, though muffled.

So this is what those testimonials meant when they said you undergo an out of body experience. It doesn't feel like you're in control when you slowly rise and go to the door. You open it, still gawking at the words.

"Happy birthday! What does it say?" Hyunjin reaches for your arm with a bright, hopeful smile.

It vanishes when he reads the words. His voice cracks as he reads them aloud, "Brighten the mood, sunshine?"

"I-I'm sorry," you sob, snagging your arm back to bury your face in your hands.

Through teary eyes of his own, Hyunjin shakes his head. "No. Y/N, we love each other." He reaches for your shoulders, but you step back, arms dropping to your sides.

"We're not each others' soulmates," you look up at him.

"They're wrong! They have to be!" he shouts.

You know what's going on in that head of his. There was no use arguing with him.

You slide the ring off of your finger. Slowly, you inch forward to him. You grab his hand, resting the ring in his palm. Then, you curl his fingers up, protecting the ring from the evils of the world.

"I'm sorry."

iv.

You tug your knees to your chest. The empty car isolates you from the flashing lights and booming music from inside the party. All you can seem to do is cry. When the tears let up, you glance down at your wrist and they appear again, stronger than before.

Something comforting rested in those words, though.

A hollow knock from your right trains your focus away. Outside the window, a few boys hover.

"We're Hyunjin's friends," the taller of the bunch shouts, though it reaches you muffled. Standing there is a boy you had crossed paths with a multitude of times before. Seungmin, his name was. From earlier.

You inch away from them quickly. You're practically sitting on the middle console.

"Wait, we're not gonna hurt you. We just want to talk. Jin's taking it pretty hard, and I was sure-" Seungmin reassures, though is interrupted by an elbow to the ribs.

"We were sure," a shorter boy corrects. His face looked familiar, though the strange depth of his voice proved otherwise.

"Right, we were sure you were feeling in the dumps too. Can you open the door so I don't have to keep yelling?" Seungmin offers a small smile as he mends to his ribs with rubbing circles.

Hesitantly, you unlock the door and weakly step out. Your knees almost buckle beneath your weight, but you lean against the car for support.

"So," a different boy speaks with a slight slur, "I'm Jeongin."

"Felix," the boy with the deep voice introduces with a small wave.

Seungmin leans against the car with you. The soles of his feet ache from standing around and rushing people to not disrobe in the living room. Glancing down at his shoes, Seungmin asks with a pitch in his voice, "So, uh, what does it say?"

"Brighten the mood, sunshine," you recite with clarity, though you're choking on tears at the back of your throat. Or puke. You're not quite sure.

"Y'know who would say that?" Jeongin drunkenly laughs, grabbing everyone's attention.

"Not the time-"

"Jisung would say that shit," he declares, despite Felix's warning glare.

Wrapping a protective arm around your shoulder, Seungmin whispers, "I'm sorry about him, this was his first party and he got a little carried away with the drinking."

You shake your head. Seungmin's cologne reminds you of Hyunjin's. Soft but masculine. Woodsy, almost. "It's fine."

"Happy birthday, by the way," he says.

You chuckle for a second. "Happy?"

"I'm not too good with this whole heartbreak thing, but I know this whole thing will blow over. It'll hurt, but in the terms of the universe, this heartbreak is setting you up for finding your soulmate," Felix says.

"The universe is bullshit," you scoff.

"Brighten the mood, sunshine," a boy calls out from the gate of the house. His arms are crossed against his chest and he's onlooking the scene with narrowed eyes.

Your heart is doing a frenzy within the cage of your chest. Playing it off as if you and the boys around you don't know what just happened, you warily shout back, "Suck my dick, mister sunshine."

He jumps back, his own heart caught in his throat. His arms fall to the side and he stares. Mouth fallen agape, he slowly lifts a finger and points at you.

He lets it drop, a smile filled with bewilderment filling his lips. "Hyunjin's gonna kill me."

v.

His name is Jisung and he had been indebted with running to Hyunjin's car to get something when he overheard your conversation. He knew you had no control over it, but he just wanted to be petty for the sake of sparking drama. It was a bad habit, he admitted later on in an apology email he had sent to your student account.

It's been a week since your birthday. Passing Hyunjin in the hallway never takes an off day to open the pit in your stomach. But the butterflies had disappeared the moment you met Jisung. And you fucking hated it. The memories with Hyunjin were too fond for you to succumb to falling in love with Jisung.

"Hey, Y/N," he skips next to you on your way to your final class of the day.

"What do you want?" you stop by your locker. You twist and turn until the lock unlatches.

As you're shoving your books in, he presses his shoulder to the locker beside you and leans close to you. "Am I not allowed to talk to my one and only?"

"Not here, okay?" you huff, slamming your locker shut. You poise your strut with confidence despite the jelly of your legs.

"Can I at least get your number?" he jogs to catch up with you.

"Only if you can convince Hyunjin to talk to me," you abruptly stop.

"What? Why?"

Above, the bell screeches its monotonous tune.

Nibbling on your lip nervously, you say, "Because I don't want him to hear about it around school or something."

"Why can't I just talk to him?" Jisung asks, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

Sighing, you mumble, "I don't wanna ruin your friendship with him."

Jisung's hearty laugh echoes in the empty hall. He grabs your hands, slightly swinging them as he declares, "We'll do it together."

"Go to class," an elderly teacher croaks from the doorway of her empty classroom.

"Meet me after school by the cafeteria," he nods before pressing a surprisingly warm kiss to your forehead.

You sit in eighth period with a permanent smile. Rather than participating in the sociology project, you stare at your palms. They still had his warmth.

Love had a peculiar way of operating. And maybe Jisung wasn't so bad.

"Good day?" Kijeong inquires, her gaze not slipping from her laptop.

You press your palms to the desk as if they held a secret only you could know. As your sight falls over to her, your face burns with heat.

She glances over. Seeing the lovestruck grin sitting confidently on your lips, she gasps. "You didn't-"

"I found him," you shrug casually as if fate had only given you $10 on a scratch-off ticket.

"When?" she grabs your shoulders, shaking you violently.

"Last week. At the party," you cup your head as you prop your arm on the desk.

"And you didn't tell me? Who is he?" her questions fly at you with high velocity and her volume grabs the attention of the people in front of you. They congratulate you with broad smiles before redirecting their focus.

You lean over to her, braving for her bullying spree as you whisper, "Han Jisung."

"The squirrel looking dude? Wait, isn't he friends with Hyunjin?"

Smile slipping from your features, you nod. "We're gonna talk to him today. I still feel so bad."

"Don't be. He's entitled to his feelings and you're entitled to yours. He can be hurt, but he'll have no right to hate you and Jisung for it. And if he does, it'll only be momentarily," Kijeong says, her voice trailing into one similar to her mother's. Wise and pristine.

The stability and confidence in her words spark those own feelings within you. You straighten your posture as you assert, "Yeah. You're right."

vi.

Waiting alone in the cafeteria serves for awkward conversations sparked by the lunch ladies and dirty glares from Hyunjin's fangirls. The whispers fail to bother you as Jisung approaches you with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. The butt of his baseball bat peeks out from the zipper.

"Ready?" he breathily says, securing the bag with a tight grip.

"Yeah," you nod, following him as he leads you through the hallways. The walls were painted by the first class. Murals, the principal had announced at freshman orientation. They tell stories, but they usually go overlooked.

As you emerge into the empty half of the parking lot, Jisung reaches back for your hand.

"Where are we going?" you ask to deter your focus from the comfort of his touch.

A glimmer of something that ignites butterflies in your stomach flashes in his eyes as he glances at you over his shoulder. "Going to meet Hyunjin."

Up ahead, you see Hyunjin sitting anticipatingly in his car. His elbow is propped on the door, holding his head as he stares down at his phone. You watch from a distance as he brings the pad of his thumb to rub bits of dry skin flaking from his lip.

You wiggle your hand out of his grip. He stops, turning around to look at you. "I don't wanna hurt him like that," you admit.

"Like what?"

"Like this," you say, motioning to the both of you.

"Oh. Right," Jisung smiles meekly, swiveling around to pursue the upcoming conflict.

You can do this, Y/N. You have to. 'Cos if you don't, it'll hurt him more.

"Hey, bro," Jisung claps against the top of the car.

Jumping, Hyunjin looks up. His eyes are puffy and the bags under his eyes are darker than usual. His hair is in disarray and tousled lazily.

"Oh," he glances between you two. He lets his arm fall to rest against the door. "Hi."

"Hi," you swallow your pride for a moment. Offering a smile, your posture straightens tensely.

"So," Jisung begins, resting a sneaky hand on the small of your back to push you.

Maybe that's why he was your soulmate. He encourages you to fight your own battles. At least, that's what he's doing now.

"Um, I found my soulmate," you nod along as you spoke shakily.

"Oh, really?" Hyunjin forces a smile. "That's good. Who is it?"

You stumble over your words, glancing at Jisung for guidance.

Catching the hint, Hyunjin chuckles. "Nuh-uh. You're lying."

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't want you to find out by someone around the school. You know how rumors spread," you tell him abruptly. Your lips fall agape, exhaling heavy breaths that encourage your body to tremble nervously.

Taken aback, Hyunjin glances down at his lap. He gnaws on his lip. "I'm not gonna lie, it kinda hurts, but I'm happy for you two."

He pauses for a moment, looking back up between you two. The awkward silence is lifted as he laughs. Tutting, he adds, "You two do look good together. I only ask of one thing, though."

"What?" Jisung asks quickly as if he's been on the edge of his seat to talk. You glance at him. His fists are balled by his side and, he too, is shaking.

"I gotta be the best man," Hyunjin points at Jisung, eyes wide with seriousness. Not even a sprinkle of a chuckle clings to his words.

"As if you weren't going to be the best man anyway," Jisung scoffs.

"Wait, if you two are so close, why did you never talk about him?" you propose the question, looking amusingly at Hyunjin.

Jisung jumps back, overdramatically falling to the asphalt and clutching the heart of his tee.

"Look, Jisung's a ladies' man. Even if you can't quite tell right now," Hyunjin shouts over Jisung's fake cries of pain.

You look down at the boy screaming on the ground and shake your head. Yelling up to the clouds, you inquire, "Are you guys sure this is my soulmate?"

"I can't believe you even have to ask that," Jisung finally sits up, gazing up at you with puppy eyes.

"Don't you have baseball practice to get to?" Hyunjin points out, glancing at his radio clock. The time was ticking close to half an hour after three.

"Oh shit, yeah. Seungmin's gonna beat my ass," Jisung jumps to his feet. He nods to you before jogging to the field.

"I'll drive you home, Y/N," Hyunjin offers. Then, the doors of his sedan click.

Oh. That's weird.

"Text me when you get home," Jisung turns around to point at you.

"Don't break anything!" you call out to him.

"No promises," Jisung shouts back.

You dip yourself into the passenger seat of Hyunjin's car. The ride is eerily silent until you ask, "Are you sure you're not mad?"

"Why would I be? Fate brought us here and there's nothing we can do about it," he shrugs, eyes focused on the road. He doesn't glance at you like he normally does when he's driving you around.

Additionally, he says, "I just hope I find my soulmate soon."

"What're your words?"

"Word, actually. It's just 'hi.'"

"That's ambiguous," you state, looking out the window at the buildings whizzing by.

"I kinda like it though. It'll force me to treat every person like my soulmate," Hyunjin remarks, drumming against his steering wheel.

"You say that as if you aren't the nicest person to walk the face of the earth. D'you wanna know what my first words were to Jisung?" you look back to him. A smile is lingering on your lips.

It feels like old times. Before the whole romance thing, you and Hyunjin were actually good friends. Inseparable, even.

"I'm sure they were fine and dandy," Hyunjin mocks, sarcasm dripping from his tone. He offers a look in your direction as he's approaching a stop sign.

"I told him to suck my dick," you admit, fighting the cackle that tempted your throat and left its mark on your lips.

Hyunjin gasps sarcastically. He releases a hand from the wheel to shield his mouth in dramatic disbelief. "The nicest person I know would never say such a thing."

Memories of middle school Hyunjin press the tip of your tongue and you're prepared to tease him when he pulls up to your house.

"Thanks for the ride," you glance at Hyunjin as you're unbuckling your seatbelt.

"Anytime," he smiles. And for a moment, you can spot the genuineness.

Just as you're about the close the door, he says, "Don't break Jisung's heart, okay?"

Offering a meek smile, you reply, "It's not on my agenda."

vii.

The moon casts a soft glow on the rooftop. It encases you in an aura of safety.

Beside you, Jisung whispers, "I can't believe it's been six months."

You inhale the fresh air as your eyes fall. You whisper, as if this were a secret, "I love you."

"I love you too," he says, draping an arm around your shoulders.

"Do you think they know we're up here?" you open your eyes to count the stars.

"If they did, we wouldn't be up here," he points out.

You look over to him. Of all the stars, he shines the brightest. You shift your eyes down to his lips.

Catching your gaze, he mumbles, "You know you don't have to ask or wait for me to-"

With that little hint of permission, you press your lips against his. The world shifts to a halting stop as the breeze fades. Warmth engulfs your body and nerves trickle goosebumps down your spine.

He slips away for a moment too long. Craving the warmth of your lips again, he meets with them once more.

He knows he's going to marry you, but he wants to treasure moments like these. Without the burden of children. Just pure teen love.

Once more, he breaks apart. His ragged breaths are hot against your face as he asks, "Do you wanna go to a party with me tomorrow?"

You hesitate, acknowledging the bore of the party twenty feet below you. "Whose party is it?"

"Seungmin's. Don't worry, it's his little brother's party. No vodka. No Kijeong twerking on the wall. Just pizza and, if we're lucky, a game of Apples to Apples," Jisung describes. You can envision it now. Jisung messily slurping down pizza with grease splattered across his face and hands. And for some reason, you wouldn't miss that sight for the world.

"Count me in."

"Sweet. If the pizza gets snagged, we can go to Dominos or something. I think Jeongin's working tomorrow," he offers.

"We haven't had a pizza date in a while," you state, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Do you even remember what happened last time?" his infamous giggle fills the void of night.

"Yes, but tell me the story again," you hide the blush that paints your face by nuzzling into his boney shoulder.

"I'm not telling the world that awful story!" he exclaims, jokingly shoving you off of him.

"You mean the one where you called our waitress 'babe' because you didn't realize it wasn't me?"

His cheeks burn with embarrassment as he stammers, "I-In my defense, I was looking at my phone. And, and from the corner of my eye it looked like you!"

"Oh so you don't even know what your own soulmate looks like?" you tease.

"Shut up," he pouts, crossing his arms defensively against his chest.

You try to unlock his stiff arms so you can weasel your way in. But he remains strong, chanting that you apologize.

"Fine, I'm sorry," you manage through bursts of laughter.

As soon as the laugh fully slips from your parted lips, Jisung tackles you in a bear hug.

"I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you," he repeats over and over. The words fill the air with such simplistic ease. As if they didn't weigh three hundred thousand tons.

The butterflies never grow tame, you realize. Of course, neither does the loud pounds of your heart when he's around. With Hyunjin, at least the butterflies would calm down on the occasion. And your heart wouldn't ache when he was gone for too long.

viii.

You enter the party with the comfort of Jisung's hand in yours. Ahead of you, a piñata swings from a branch and children are circling chairs as a polka blares from someone's phone.

"Ah, you came!" Seungmin grins, clapping Jisung's shoulder and offering you a welcoming smile. You hadn't talked much since the night of your nineteenth birthday.

"Here's his present," you pull a small, wrapped box from your purse.

"What is it?" he interrogates, a small purse to his lips as he examines the box.

"Baseball cards. One of them's signed," Jisung jumps in, draping a lazy arm around your shoulder.

"I might have to steal these," Seungmin eyes the light blue wrapping paper. Jokingly, he tries to sneak it into his pocket.

"Who all's here?" Jisung asks, settling the laughter that followed Seungmin's stunt.

"Hyunjin, Minho, and Chan are playing Just Dance with my dad in the living room. A few of Soobin's friends from school are here. They're the only ones who've shown so far."

"Do you wanna go talk with them? I need to talk with Seungmin about something," Jisung glances at you, slowly retracting his arm.

Bobbing your head, you say, "Yeah, of course."

Before entering the home through the open glass door, you glance back at Jisung and Seungmin. They're boisterously laughing, so the conversation must not be too serious.

You feel bad. For these past six months, Jisung spent every waking minute with you. Aside from his games and classes, that is. Today should be good for him, so he can get out and socialize.

As you poke your head into the living room, Hyunjin shouts as he drops the Wii remote, "Has he proposed yet?"

Stifling a laugh, you shake your head.

"Bro, you're ruining our score!" Chan reaches for the fallen controller. Seungmin's dad sits on the couch contently. He cheers on his teammate quietly.

"What the hell is he waiting for?" Hyunjin's eyes widen as he slowly approaches you with his arms crossing his chest.

You shrug. "I'm not sure, but I don't really care that much. Teen love is nice without the whole marriage question."

Seungmin's dad nods his head at that. Without breaking his gaze from the animated figures dancing, he announces, "Don't feel pressured. Seungmin's mother and I waited until she got pregnant with our eldest. Made the wedding photos a bit more special."

As you're about to open your mouth, a girl around your age with a lavender dress enters from the backyard. "Oh, uh, hi."

Your eyebrows jump as you stare down Hyunjin. He shakes his head before holding the girl's gaze. "Are you here for Soobin?"

Based on the stumbled attempts she made to speak, it was pretty clear what was going on.

"Hyunjin, I think you've just found your soulmate," Minho finally pauses the game, glancing back to send teasing heart eyes.

You slip past the scene, back into the noisy yard. Jisung waves you over with a grin. Seungmin stands close, showing him a random meme on his phone.

You quickly cross the yard, declaring with a broad smile, "Hyunjin just met his soulmate."

"What? Who?" Seungmin asks, radically shocked. He didn't expect Hyunjin to ever find his soulmate. Now he owes Jeongin twenty bucks.

"I don't know her name, but she's wearing a lavender dress and her hair is in a braid," you describe.

Seungmin peers behind you, gasping at the girl he sees. "You're actually joking."

"Who is she?"

"My fucking cousin. I don't wanna be related to Hyunjin!" Seungmin cries, stomping his foot and pushing out his lip like a child.

"Just get disowned. It's not that hard. You already dropped out of baseball," Jisung points out, mocking the way Seungmin had sobbed at their last high school game.

The glare Seungmin holds scares even you, though Jisung doesn't seem phased. You had always admired that confident perk of him. Though, one day, you knew it was going to get him killed.

ix.

With his arm wrapped protectively around your waist, Jisung sleeps. The TV hums at low volume. It's the home shopping network, advertising socks that are moisture resistant.

Your thoughts prevent you from slipping into the dream world, though your eyes were aching with tiredness. It's nearly been three years. Hyunjin and his wife have already wed. Even Jeongin married his soulmate. But Jisung still shows no sign of even proposing.

He couldn't be losing interest, could he? People have said that there are glitches in the system. Inaccurate soulmates exist.

The mere thought trembles your body as tears wet your cheeks. The salt stings your skin. It reminds you of the words inking themselves into your skin. Forever, they would taint your wrist. A constant reminder of the boy stirring beside you.

Huskily, Jisung mumbles, "Are you awake?"

"Yeah," you whisper, the tears creating a scratch in your throat. With the pads of your fingers, you quickly swipe at the culprits.

"Why are you shaking? Are you cold?"

You turn in his arms, sniffling. "D-Do you still love me?"

"Why would you even think that? Of course I do," he tightens his grip on you. As if you would turn to dust and slip away. He buries himself in your hair, basking in the sweet smell of your shampoo.

"Then why aren't we progressing? Why haven't you proposed?" your voice cracks as you break out of his hold. You sprout for air, strands of hair sticking to the dampness on your face.

Sighing, Jisung hesitates. "I guess I'm scared."

"Of commitment?"

"Kinda. I'm scared you'll get tired of me. Or annoyed. A lot of people already think that, but the thought of you thinking it is my breaking point," he releases you, sitting up in the bed. He grabs his pillow and hugs it close to him.

You sit up too. Reluctantly, you place your hand on his arm. Tears sting your eyes as you say, "I could never get tired of you. If anything, I'd die wishing I had more time with you."

Jisung drops the pillow, reaching out to hug you. He plays with the ends of your hair and fights tears of his own as he says, "I don't have a ring right now, but I do want to marry you. Beneath all that fear I truly do. Really bad. Will you do me the honors?"

"Ask it properly," you scold, hiding your laugh by burying your face in his neck.

Your breaths tickle his neck as he grins, "Will you marry me?"

"Of course, Mr. Sunshine. I will marry you."

"Sweet," he slips away from the hug, settling back down into the mattress. With his back facing you, he mumbles, "I'm really fucking tired and probably won't remember this in the morning. Remind me about this, will ya?"

You scoff, picking up your pillow and smacking him with it. His laugh fills the room, drowning out the TV and warding the bad thoughts away in a heartbeat. Jisung has that effect. It's like his superpower.

Spending the rest of your life with this...manchild is a blessing. Every conflict you would ever face would be fought with him by your side. A reassuring hand on your back or his arm draped around you to push you. It's weird. But you weren't quite sure if you would ever trade it for the world.

a/n: not my best, but I needed to write something so here it is.

[jbbuckybarnes]

Hated

Bucky x Reader Trope: Accidental Eavesdropping Descr: Angst & Fluff

Masterlist

You wanted to walk into the kitchen when you heard your name fall from Bucky’s lips. You stopped in your tracks and decided to turn around until they were finished mentioning you in there. Until you heard what it was about. “She acts like she has pity for all of us. It makes me uncomfortable. She’s trying too hard.” you turned around and ran to your room after these words. Your only fear with the team was to be disliked by them. You joined the group only days before Bucky and always did your best to be there for everybody, to not be annoying and to learn enough about them. “It concerns me, she’s overworking herself where she shouldn’t. She’s way too worried. I feel like she needs the same level of attention she gives to us and we’re not giving that to her.” he finished his little monologue and Steve pressed his lips together with a nod. Bucky has been your training partner since you both came to the compound and you always tried your best to help him with the problems he had with his PTSD. He was still very distanced towards you, but not in a negative way. At least that’s what you thought until you accidentally eavesdropped on him talking about you. You decided to not eat breakfast, your appetite was gone anyways and you still had a few episodes of Brooklyn 99 left to watch. Bucky noticed when you didn’t come to eat breakfast. It worried him, you always made sure everyone ate enough and you talked about the shows you currently watched every evening. “Friday? Can you deny the rest of the team access to my room? Except for Tony, of course.” you looked at the ceiling. “Of course.” the gentle female computer voice answered. - “Friday? Can you tell me where Y/N is?” the brunette asked after everyone had finished breakfast and went about their day. “She is in her room. It seems like she doesn’t want to be disturbed.” the voice answered him. “Is she medically okay?” he asked. “Yes, her vitals are normal. She seems to be upset but wants to be left alone.” she informed him. He slowly exhaled with a frown. This wasn’t like you at all and he knew something must’ve happened in the last 24 hours.

“Y/N?” he knocked against your door before turning the door knob, expecting the door to open. “Can you let me in?” he asked with a calm voice and you put on headphones to not hear his voice anymore. “If you need me, I’m-” music interrupted his voice and a tear ran down your face. He turned away from the door and walked towards the training area. “Do you think someone upset Y/N?” Bucky looked at Steve with a frown. “Might be the case.” he shrugged before continuing his set of pull-up’s. “She didn’t eat, I can’t open her door. I hope everything is okay.” he started his own workout. “She’s a big girl. Probably just needs a day off.” came back. After blasting Linkin Park and Beyonce through your headphones for almost two hours you thought yourself capable to continue a fairly normal day. You’d have to figure out ways to get past the soldier but you couldn’t let this interfere with your life too much. With headphones on a low volume and in cozy clothes you made your way to the kitchen to at least eat a sandwich. “Oh my god, Y/N. You’re okay. What happe-” he tried to hug you but you walked right past him. Under his confused glare you made yourself a big sandwich with Aerosmith blasting guitar solos through your ears. Cleaned up, started the dishwasher and made your way to the training room. “Hey, no food in the training room.” Sam joked and your eyes were venom. “Get off my nonexistent dick, pigeon.” he never saw you this aggravated and any comeback in his head vanished with his shock. You sat down on the box in front of the big window, eating your sandwich, trying to calm down. One side of your headphones was slowly taken out, “Who do I need to beat up, babygirl?” Sam meant it, he never saw you this irritated before and whoever was responsible for this should get a concussion of a lifetime. “Bucky.” you mumbled and just saying his name ruined your mood again and made you lose a tear. Arms were gently placed around you and pulled you in, “What did tin-man do to you?” “He said…that I act like I pity all of you and…” a sob left you and he started frowning, “…that I make him uncomfortable and that I’m trying too hard. I heard it when I wanted to get breakfast this morning.” He would lie if he said he wasn’t angry at his friend for making you feel like this. “Hey, babygirl. Listen to me.” he took your face in his hands, “You are the best teammate out of all of them. You make us sandwiches, make sure we eat and drink enough, stitch us up after missions. You don’t make me uncomfortable ever. You’re not annoying. Sure, mothering me isn’t always what I prefer but I would never take you for granted like that.” he tried to soothe you. “Thank you, Sam.” you got the tears off your face. “No problem. You deserve to hear that every once in a while.” he hugged you again. “Can I work out with you?” you looked up at him and a soft smile formed on his face. “Of course, but I think you should eat that sandwich first.” he nudged his head over and you nodded. “I think I did something wrong…but I don’t know what?” Bucky said to his best friend. “Try to talk to her later or whenever she wants to talk to you again.” his hand was on Bucky’s shoulder when they heard you laugh and walk in.

-

You walked into the kitchen laughing at one of Sam’s joke and ignored the rest of the room. “You lost the bet, not my fault.” he smiled at you. “Fine. I’ll make you a sandwich. But only cause you’ve been such good company today.” you gave him a stern look. “Don’t want to see you sad, babygirl.” he said sitting at the counter. “Don’t flatter yourself too much. Half of the work was done by Beyoncé on my headphones.” you snorted before preparing him a sandwich and presenting it to him. “THIS is what victory tastes like.” he grinned and you both fell into a laughing fit. You both had the tradition of journaling together in silence twice a week and when you didn’t show up for that, he knew he did something wrong. It must’ve been him. The last thing he said to you the day before was a normal “Sleep tight, Sugar Plum.” He called you that, not because of actual sugar plums, but because plums were his favorite and you were his favorite. You were more than just his favorite but you didn’t know that. He actually planned on getting everyone on board with giving you the love back that you gave everyone. That was what he had talked about earlier that day with Steve. He wanted to tell you sometime in the coming weeks. Wanted to make you emotionally better by telling everyone to treat you a little better. And here he sat alone on the couch, you hated him and he didn’t know why. “Tasha?” he looked towards the redhead that had just walked in and got her attention. “James?” she smiled. “Do you know what I did for Y/N to be so cold towards me? I don’t remember saying anything hurtful or triggering. Maybe I’m just incredibly dumb but…would you please do me a favor and find out?” he looked so heartbroken. “Talk to her, Buck.” she suggested. “She won’t let me.” he bit his lip nervously. Sam walked in with a scolding look, “Never saw someone make such a mess while being so obviously in love, holy.” “What?” Bucky was confused. “Wait, you don’t know what you did?” Sam’s eyebrows raised up. “Nobody is telling me, no.” he answered and let himself fall against the couch cushion. “I played with the idea of breaking your nose and giving you a concussion when she told me.” his hand went over his face. Nat left the room but was clearly still listening in. “You talked about her this morning.” Sam started and a nod came back. “You said she acts like she’s pitying all of us, that she makes you uncomfortable and that she’s trying too hard. Tell me WHERE you wouldn’t be mad in her skin?” he smacked his friend over the head. “Fuck, that wasn’t even meant that way. I was talking to Steve about her getting too deep into this whole caring and mothering thing when she feels mentally unstable. I just asked him if he was on board with the idea of asking the team to treat her a little better…so that she feels better again. She must’ve heard only the first part, shit.” he rubbed his temples. “Then go and fix it, you absolute dumbass of a man.” he was really not having it. “I will.” he stood up to go straight to your room. Four knocks, Bucky. “Y/N, can we please talk?” he asked with his softest voice. You ignored him deliberately, for good reasons. “I know why you’re mad but that’s not what I actually said.” his forehead was against your door. “Friday? Can you play the kitchen surveillance footage of Steve and me this morning. On her screen?” he asked and you took your headphones out. Your TV switched to a video of the kitchen. He made you relive this? Really? * “What’s wrong, buddy?” “I don’t know. I’m just concerned for Y/N.” “Why? Something wrong?” Steve asked concerned. “I know she probably doesn’t show it as obvious to the rest of you but she seems very mentally drained. But instead of putting herself first she keeps giving. She acts like she has pity for all of us. It makes me uncomfortable. She’s trying too hard. It concerns me, she’s overworking herself where she shouldn’t. She’s way too worried. I feel like she needs the same level of attention she gives to us and we’re not giving that to her.” “We should talk to the others about that.” Steve answered. “God, I love her. I just don’t want her to end up completely shattered.” “When did you plan on telling her?” “I don’t know. Probably when she starts getting better. I don’t want to be manipulative by accident.” “Hey, it’s gonna work out fine. Trust me.” he calmed down his friend.

*

With a shocked face your TV went back to a screen saver. Slowly and shaky you made your way to the door and opened it to see a Bucky that was internally beating himself up. “I’m so sorry.” he seriously looked like a hurt puppy. You closed the door behind him. “I didn’t know you were there. I said it in all the wrong ways. I should’ve stopped after the first two sentences. I was so worried for you. I’m so sorry.” he was a waterfall of words. “It’s okay, Bucky.” you both had sat down on your bed and you took his hands. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” you drew circles on the back of his hands to soothe him and get him out of his intrusive thoughts. “I’m so sorry.” he looked at you again. “Hey, it’s okay. We would’ve worked it out sooner or later. It’s okay.” you hugged him. “Why are you so nice to me after I made you feel so awful?” he asked in a shaky voice. “Cause there is an explanation for it and I love you. Why would I hold grudges against you.” you took his head into your hands. “Really. I mean it when I say it’s okay, Bucky.” now he grabbed you into a tight hug. “I’ll choose my words better next time. I promise.” he mumbled. “I hope Sam didn’t hurt you.” you giggled while the hug broke apart. “Smacked me over the head.” he huffed with a small smile. “Poor Bucky Bear.” you jokingly pitied him. “I hope you don’t change because of what I said. I love you the way you are, okay? Just…maybe try to overwork yourself less.” his hands went over your waist and hips. “Sorry I missed out on our journaling bit.” your hand went through his hair soothingly. “You know, I planned on confessing to you in a completely different way. Had it planned out.” he looked at you with a shy smirk. “You still have time,” you smiled, “What was the plan?” “Telling you why I call you Sugar Plum.” he chuckled. “And why do you call me that?” your grin got wider. “Sugar, cause that’s how I called girls in the 40’s. Plum because they are my favorite fruit and you’re my favorite person. You’re way more than my favorite person and I thought you deserve to know that.” A boyish but shy smile was on his face and he was blushing. “Gosh, hopeless romantic.” you rolled your eyes before closing the distance between the two of you. He pulled you onto his lap, one hand on your lower back, one hand messing with your hair. His lips were soft, tasted like cinnamon, the cinnamon buns you’d left on the coffee table. After he kissed you dizzy he looked at you with your messed up hair and kiss-swollen lips. “Still wanna journal together?” he asked with the happiest smile ever. “Of course. Don’t get too touchy feely tho.” you winked before climbing off of his legs and walked towards the door with a, “Friday, grant the team access to my room again when I’m in it. And Bucky also when I’m not in it.” he eyed you from behind with heart-eyes that were visible to Alaska. “Gosh, you can do that now without getting possibly caught. I’m not responsible for broken noses and dents in walls.” you smirked over your shoulder. This journaling date was definitely different from the others.

[a-group-of-remarkable-people]

A Night To Remember - Peter Parker X Reader

A/N: Yes, the title of this fic is named after that one song from High School Musical. Fight me. My first fic! Terrifying. Extra terrifying because I have never written anything in the second person. There should probably be a lot more description but oh well. Hope y'all enjoy tho!!! Feedback is appreciated!!!!!!!! Word Count: 5k, which sounds like a fuckton, but I still feel like I need to establish the relationship more lolllllll... Warnings: None. Poorly defined relationships. Cliché as FUCK. Genre: 5% angst, but becomes so fluffy you could cuddle it.

Synopsis: Tonight is prom, and you have taken a day off from Avenger duty to pretend to be a normal girl for once. You even have a date. It seems like for once you might be able to have the prom you have always dreamed about. But when the night goes sour, you find yourself alone, and realise that this will be a night to remember, but not for the reason you think...

-

Every girl gets a chance to go to prom. Even an Avenger.

By the fading light of the sun, you twisted and turned in front of your bedroom mirror, attempting to check that you had shaved every hair from your legs without having to walk across the room to the light switch. A quick glance at the clock on the wall told you that you had approximately half an hour before you were being picked up. 

Half an hour. That definitely was not as much time as you thought you had.

Your eyes darted to your bedroom floor, where you could hear a distinct thumping.

"Y/N! Turn that music down!"

You cringed, remembering that your mother had a business call that night. "Sorry, Mom!"

You reached for the remote control that was blasting Beyoncé through your speakers and turned the volume down, resting it on your dressing table as you hummed to the tune of Love On Top. There were several finishing touches that needed to be made.

The first one was another spritz of setting spray, if only to reassure your fear that your makeup would start to slide down your face mid-dance. The second was picking up the necklace that your grandmother had given you for your eighteenth and draping it around your neck, adjusting it a few times to make sure it rested in the centre of your collarbone. The final touch was your shoes, but just staring at the stiletto heels made your feet ache, so you decided to wait until the last second to put those on. 

The sensation that you had become a 'normal teenager' again was a strange one. For once, school was not taking the backseat to tangling with criminals and defending your city on a day-to-day basis. The Avengers had offered to take care of anything that came up while you were at prom - Bucky "I think I would look good wearing your super-suit, to be honest" Barnes leading the charge - and a small part of you wondered what you would have been doing tonight if that offer wasn't there. 

But today, you could just put on some music and a pretty dress and pretend, even only for a few hours, that you were just like every other kid in that room.

You even had a date.

That was the most remarkable thing. With all the time you had dodged your friends and your responsibilities at school you didn't think that anyone had noticed you existed, but you walked into AP Physics one day to find an elaborate bouquet of flowers at your desk. As you admired them, you hadn't noticed the presence behind you until you turned around to find Jordan, your lab partner, holding a posterboard with PROM? written on it in large red letters. He had clearly walked straight off the football pitch, as he was breathing heavily and his hair was wet, but the smile on his face was genuine. 

He was way out of your league. He was ridiculously out of your league. 

The overwhelming fact that the most popular boy in your school had asked you to prom was screaming in your brain as you squeaked, "Yes!"

He laughed, and the students around you applauded politely as he confirmed he would pick you up at 7. That was a month or so ago, and now you looked at the clock again and realised that you had ten minutes.

When you stood up, the train of your floor-length dress tumbled off your lap, swishing as you walked towards the bed to pick up your clutch bag. You twirled a few times for good measure, admiring the way the fabric of the dress rippled as you made yourself slightly dizzy, though whether it was from the spinning or the excitement building in your stomach you couldn't tell.

Was it vanity or self-confidence that you couldn't stop looking at yourself in the mirror?

Thank God for Pepper, you thought, thinking back to your first attempt at choosing a dress. At the first opportunity, you had gone to the mall for an afternoon to pick out the perfect prom outfit. The one small flaw with that problem was that your sense of style was much more sophisticated in your head than it turned out to be in real life. The fuschia, ruffled dress you brought back to the compound - without trying it on - made you look like a cross between grandmother from the 1960s and one of Cinderella's ugly sisters.

You remembered running up to the nearest guest bedroom and trying it on, only to see Peter in the doorway, giggling. 

"What is wrong with it?" You cried, exasperated, as your best friend attempted to control himself. You noticed that he kept his distance, possibly because of the fact that you looked like you would murder him if he dared to insult the dress. And with your martial arts training, it was more than possible.

"Well..." he began, scratching the back of his head as his voice trailed off. "It's not that there's anything wrong with it, it's just..."

"You don't even like prom, so your opinion doesn't count," you said, sticking your tongue out as you continued to stare in the mirror. Did it look more ridiculous the longer you looked?

He shrugged. "Well, I'm not going to win prom king or queen, I don't want to drink the punch, especially if there's alcohol in it, you know the stoners will be doing drugs in the corner and get it shut down, and Ned isn't going either, so I wouldn't have anyon-"

"Shhhh, Peter. Can't you just get caught up in the shallow and superficial magic of prom, even for one night? Jordan has asked me to prom, this is going to be the best night of my life."

If you had been looking at him instead of debating if the dress was the one, you would have seen him wince and smile wistfully at you.

"I hope it is, Y/N." 

Thankfully for both of you, Pepper appeared to call the two of you to dinner. She took one look at the dress and ordered you to take it off.

"Really, Y/N?" She sighed, shaking her head. "I think if you took that home your mother would have a heart attack." 

Ignoring your feeble protests, she insisted on taking you shopping, which was - admittedly - much better for your prom prospects than if you had attempted to choose a dress alone. 

And now you were wearing a midnight blue ballgown - a new colour you had learned, courtesy of the dressmaker - with a lace bodice and tiny sequins that shifted in the light, somehow making it look as though you were wearing constellations. 

It made you look sophisticated. It made you look mature. It made you so much more confident.

Somehow it seemed as though your dreams of a perfect prom were coming true. You had an incredibly attractive date, a dress that made you feel like you were floating, and for once you didn't have to worry about being summoned to stop a bank robbery twelve times a night.

Deep down, you recognised the superficiality of it all. You knew there were much more important things to do in life, but there was just something about prom that made you want to forget all about it. 

You couldn't help but miss Peter, though. When you had said goodbye afterschool the feeling of guilt was unmistakeable.

"You sure you don't want to stay home and have a movie marathon with me? Ned will be there, we were going to get popcorn, and-"

You cut him off gently, but firmly. "After tonight I will have plenty of time for movie marathons, I promise."

"Okay," he smiled at you, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Send me loads of pictures!"

"I will!" You called, speeding up so you could catch your bus before it pulled off. You took a moment just to imagine what would have happened if you had turned up to prom with Peter and Ned instead of with Jordan. You would have had a lot of fun, but it definitely wouldn’t have lived up to the image of prom that you had in your head.

For every image in your head of slow dancing with Jordan, another one appeared of you sitting with your friends, devouring the buffet and laughing at everyone who was taking the night way too seriously.

You felt like you were betraying him, but the thought of one perfect moment was too tempting to let go. Well, that was what you told yourself every time your heart ached.

A knock at the door made you jump and the fantasy immediately fell away.

"The lab is going to call me back any minute, are you..." Your mother let out a soft gasp as she saw you standing in front of the mirror. "My god, Y/N, you look gorgeous." 

You blushed, staring down at the floor as your mother came to adjust the pins in your hair. "You're my mother, you're supposed to say that." 

"Okay, don't believe me." She said, folding her arms and fixing you with one of those mother knows best looks. "But every single person at that prom will agree with me." 

But what about the people who aren't at prom? What about the person who isn’t at prom? You thought, and then caught yourself. 

You hadn't noticed that your mother was waiting for you to approve the changes she had made to your hair until she cleared her throat. You also hadn't noticed that you were standing there with a wistful smile on your face until you made eye contact with yourself in the mirror.

"Sorry Mom, thank you." 

"Do I need to stay home tonight to keep an eye on you?" She said, raising her eyebrows. "How much trouble are you going to get yourself into with that smile?"

You laughed. "Don't I get into enough trouble on a daily basis?" 

She rolled her eyes, playfully smacking you on the arm. "This is different, and you know it." Taking your arm, you could see the pride in her face as she spoke, eyes brimming with tears. "You look so grown up." 

"I'll send you as many pictures as I can," you promised.

The sound of her phone buzzing made your mother groan, smiling apologetically as she looked at the screen. "It's Martin."

She mouthed have fun as she walked out talking about thorium and the methodology of various experimental techniques and other things you had elected that you would not understand a long time ago.

An alarm on your phone alerted you to the fact that you had five minutes until you were supposed to be being picked up, so you sat on your bed, strapping each heel on your feet and touching up your lipstick one last time as you heard the door slam beneath you, signaling the fact that your mother had left for work.

Standing at the top of the stairs made you aware of a new problem. How were you going to walk down the stairs in these heels? You settled for taking it one step at a time, clinging to the banister like a cat to the rim of a bathtub. Eventually, face slightly flushed, you were standing in front of the front door.

Where you remained for a further half an hour.

The realm of "Oh, he must just be late," had passed about ten minutes ago. You were pacing up and down your living room, pressing the dial button on your friends' numbers with increasing frustration when they all went to voicemail. The excitement in your stomach had long vanished, though there was something still in there. A kind of creeping dread that gave you shivers the longer the agonising minutes ticked by. 

Your mind was racing through everything that could have possibly happened to make Jordan late. Maybe his car broke down. Maybe he was on his way and his phone was out of battery. No, that one is a lie, you sighed. It was prom, everyone would want to be using their phones to take as many pictures as physically possible. 

Or maybe, the dread in your stomach whispered, maybe he forgot about you.

Maybe it's worse. Maybe he's injured or caught up in the kind of mess you would be taking care of any other night.

Fifteen minutes prior you would have brushed those intrusive thoughts off with a laugh. You knew him well, of course he wouldn't forget about you. 

But now, as the time inched closer to 7pm and the beginning of prom, it didn't seem funny anymore. 

You got up from where you were perched on the edge of the couch to pace back and forth on the floor, having discarded your heels by the door long ago. If you weren't going to get a ride, how were you going to get to prom? Your mom was at work, your friends either together or with their own dates, and you couldn't exactly walk to the Avengers compound to ask them for help, they were definitely busy. The more you thought about having to call a taxi - which would be expensive - or call someone else - who would you call? - the more your stomach sank and the more the idea of prom seemed less appealing. 

Your phone buzzed from the coffee table and you almost tripped over in attempts to reach it. The knot in your stomach twisted tighter when you saw it was an Instagram notification.

New Post from _jordan._

Torturously slow, you entered your password and the sound of the phone unlocking filled the otherwise silent room. In the stark light of the phone screen, you could feel your eyes filling with tears as you took in the image in front of you.

Jordan stood in the centre with a winning smile, arms around another girl with a matching grin. 

He did forget about me. As soon as you thought the words, they repeated over and over in your mind. Stumbling backwards, you caught your leg on the arm of the couch, physical pain blending into the emotional as you stood alone in your living room fighting tears. He replaced me. With every repetition it was like the knife was twisting deeper. 

You knew that you hadn't had time to see anyone at school as much in the past few months, but hell, you were coming to terms with being a literal superhero.

Not that they knew that. 

You couldn't count the number of times you and your friends had excitedly sat down to lunch in the cafeteria to discuss how you were all going to prom together. The number of times that you had talked about the music they would play, the decorations that would cover the gym, the boys that you would take - although the identity of those boys had changed what seemed like hundreds of times over the years. 

You felt like such an idiot. He was a football player, had pretty much every girl at school wrapped around his finger. Why would he ever choose you? Clearly he wouldn't, if there was the option to replace you for a pretty cheerleader in a mermaid tail dress.

Your grip on your phone was so tight that you had left the impression of its edge on your palm, but you didn't notice until the notification sound went off again. 

Spiderboi: Are you ready yet??? Has he picked you up? Spiderboi: I wanna see your dress!!!

The sound that came out of your mouth was almost a laugh. Your fingers danced over the keys, typing the first words of ten different replies, then deleting them with a sigh.

Y/N: not rly feeling prom anymore

His reply was almost instantaneous, and it grounded you a little. You moved from where you had been stood aimlessly in the middle of the living room to the windowsill, leaning against it as you typed.

Spiderboi: What? Spiderboi: Why??? I thought you were looking forward to prom Spiderboi: It is literally all you have been talking about for WEEKS

His innocent response threatened to provoke a fresh wave of tears, but you sniffed and held them back as you sent Peter a screenshot of the Instagram post, deciding that in this case no words was the best way to communicate.

You stared at it, the image practically burning itself into your brain as the label underneath the picture went from Sent to Delivered to Read. Within seconds, your phone started buzzing and you picked it up.

He must be able to hear your shallow breathing on the other end of the line. You could feel the flutter of your heartbeat in your chest but you forced yourself to focus on breathing in and out.

"Y/N... I'm so sorry. That's so shitty of him. So unbelievably and massively shitty of him."

"It's fi-" You began, but sighed, realising there was no point in pretending. "I just didn't think he would actually do that to me." The betrayal in your voice was evident even to you.

"I'm sure the rest of them didn't forget about you," he reasoned, and you were forced to admit that he was probably right. "You said that you weren't going to go to the pre-prom because of Jordan, weren't you?"

Yes. "I'm so stupid. I am so so stupid."

"You're not stupid." 

"Peter, I am. I've literally lost count of the amount of times I've nearly died, and I am sat here crying because I've been stood up at prom by some fuckboy."

There was a silence on the other end of the phone, then a tentative, "I... I bet you look beautiful." 

Despite everything, you blushed, and you felt the corners of your mouth lifting up. Trust Peter to find a way to break you out of your spiral, even if it was only for a few seconds.

Why were you blushing?

"Thank you," you said in a small voice, wondering if Peter would still think you looked beautiful if he could actually see you. Your mascara had run down your cheeks in two ashen stripes, your hair had been pulled out of its meticulous styling from all the times that you had run your hands through it, and your lipstick was peeling off from biting your lip so much. If you were going to prom as a glam version of No Face from Spirited Away, you would have fit right in.

The silences between his responses were getting longer and longer, and you felt a twinge in the pit of your stomach when you realised that he was distracted by something. Of course, you then felt incredibly guilty for demanding his undivided attention, especially when it was you who had ditched him tonight. But, he was the only person that had bothered to answer you and if he left you would be back to being alone.

"Hey, Y/N, I'm so sorry but I have to go." And there it was. He didn't sound apologetic though; you could swear that there was a touch of something that sounded like excitement in his hurried words. "Mr Stark sent for me... he said it was important.”

A mission. It must be.

"It's...it's okay, Peter. I'm sure you're busy."

What else could you say? 

Don’t go. Let me come with you.

“Message me, okay? I'll reply when I get the chance. Sorry, Y/N, I really am."

"Bye, Peter," you said just as the phone clicked with the sound of him hanging up, leaving you back where you were in the first place. 

Should you go to prom? Did you even want to go to prom at this point?

The immediate answer was of course not, but the petty part of you imagined walking into prom looking better than you ever had and decking Jordan on sight. You played with the fantasy for a few minutes, replaying it over and over in your mind until it gave you some sort of satisfaction.

When you focused on yourself in the reflection of the window, you saw someone who, sure, might look like a mess at that point, but there was a new kind of resigned determination in your eyes that no matter what, you were going to enjoy your damn prom as much as you could. Fuck him.  

And that started with doing your hair and makeup again.  

You rushed upstairs and sat down at your dresser. The therapeutic power of putting makeup on was incredible, and twenty minutes of concealing, bronzing and highlighting had calmed you down enough that you were singing to your music. You were going to be late to prom, of course, but you wouldn't be crying anymore. 

Your phone was going off with continuous Instagram notifications, so you decided to turn it off and sacrifice responding to a possible message from Peter for not dying a little inside every time you saw photos of your friends singing karaoke in a limo or posing outside your school. 

You weren't going to be pathetic, you had decided that, but the loneliness was the thing that threatened to dismantle your newfound positivity. Would you even enjoy yourself if you went to prom? 

Your date had ditched you for another girl. Surely that story had circulated around the school by now. Most people wouldn't see you as determined. They'd see you as embarrassed and sad.  

You put your head in your hands, indecisive yet again, startled when there was a sharp rapping on your front door. 

You scowled as you ran down the stairs, imagining opening the door to a confused delivery guy in a dress fit for a masquerade ball.

You stared at the floor as you opened the door, eyes unfocused. "I'm sorry, I-" 

Your words died in your throat

"Peter?"

He was stood in the corridor of your apartment complex in a black tuxedo, holding a small bouquet of roses with a soft smile on his face. His eyes widened at the sight of you, taking in every inch of your outfit, and he must realise that you were doing the same to him.

Somehow, seeing him dressed to the nines was doing something to you. You didn't feel like you were looking at your best friend.

"Peter..." you said, keeping one hand on the doorframe as you struggled to form sentences. 

What came out was, "what are you doing here?" But you would have been lying if you said you didn't have an idea.

He stopped fiddling with the cufflinks on his suit jacket and looked up at you bashfully, clearing his throat. "I didn't want you to be alone." 

You could practically feel your heart melting. Fuck Jordan. Fuck him, the cocky shit. Right here was your favourite person, your superhero. And no, this time it wasn't Spider-Man coming to your rescue, it was Peter Parker, and he was still the hero you needed. 

Perhaps not the hero you deserved, though.

"Peter, you hate prom," you began, "you've told me you didn't want to go so many times..."

He visibly squirmed, and then looked down at the floor. "I would have gone if it was with you."  

And with those words, all your struggles, your worries and your petty revenge evaporated and you practically flew into Peter's arms, knocking the beautiful flowers out of his hand.  

"You are the best," You murmured in his ear, to which he simply smiled and said, "I couldn't stand seeing him fuck you over like that."

You frowned. What the fuck were you doing? Hastily you untangled your arms from around his neck and took a step backwards, smoothing your dress down as your face flushed. 

You didn't deserve this. You had spent months taking Peter for granted as you raved about some shallow asshole, and he had made the selfless decision to save you when you deserved to sit at home. The guilt gnawed at you, and looking up at his confused face made your stomach constrict tighter.

Say something. 

"I don't deserve this," you began, playing with the fabric of your skirt as you refused to meet his eyes. Your voice hushed to a whisper. "I was shallow, I got excited by a guy that could offer me popularity and I took you for granted. You don't have to do this for me, Peter."  

You finally gained the courage to look into his eyes, and what you found there only confused you more. The softness in his face hadn't gone away, he didn't look upset, he didn't look like he was about to walk away. If anything, he looked content. 

"Peter?"

Now it was his turn to stare at the floor. His breathing was shaky, like he was steeling himself up for something. 

You started to say his name again, but were cut off when he looked up at you with an urgency that came out of nowhere. Words came out of his mouth at a million miles an hour.

"Y/N, you're my best friend... no, you're more than that. It is always you who is there for me, you put up with everything I throw at you. I would never want to run a mission without you at this point." 

As he rambled you felt a tightness in the pit of your stomach, and you met his gaze with shining eyes.

"So yeah, I let you get excited when Jordan asked you to prom, because you looked so happy. I let you get excited when I was dying inside because..." He muttered something you couldn't hear, going an even deeper shade of red.

You inched towards him, trying to get him to look you in the eye. It was like trying to comfort a startled puppy. "Because...?" You said, gently.

"Because I wish it could have been me." 

You couldn't say anything. Your mouth was open in shock, and try as you might, you had lost the capability of speech. 

He looked up at you with something like panic in his features. "Please... just let me keep going, I have to say this before I go crazy keeping it from you."  

You made no attempts to stop him.

“The truth is… I wish I could be the type of guy that could take you to prom. So badly. I want your mom to take cute pictures of us... and I want to spin you around on the dancefloor and I want to do one of those cute promposals that you watch on YouTube all the time."

You could feel tears start to form in your eyes.

"Tonight, Y/N, God, you look beautiful. I want to tell you that you look like magic because that's how you make me feel when I'm around you. You make my life so much fun, and I don't want to ruin that, but I want you to know that if I had the chance... I would want to be with you every second of every day."

His voice trailed off, and he started to run his fingers through his hair. You felt like you were looking at him for the first time.

"I am so blind."

"What?" He choked out, taking a step back so there were a few inches between you.

Time seemed to elongate, every millisecond you spent staring into his gorgeous eyes felt like an eternity. 

Your gaze drifted down to his lips, causing you to subconsciously bite your own.

There were so many things that you could say.

So you decided instead to softly press your lips to his. Instinctively your eyes closed, and you kissed him with all the things that you weren't able to say. It wasn't what your first kiss had imagined, not fireworks or epiphanies. It felt like you had just turned the key into your home, or curled up by a fireplace. He tasted of warmth, of safety. 

The lunacy of what you just did hit you when the two of you pulled away and Peter's eyes were wide with shock.

Silence filled the room for what seemed like years as you gazed into each other's eyes. 

What the fuck was that? "God, Peter, I am so sorry, that probably wasn't what you-"

He cut you off with another kiss, deeper and more insistent. His fingers tangled themselves in your hair as your arms fell naturally around his neck.

You weren't sure where this desire had come from, but you suddenly started to see your memories in a different way. Your terror that Peter had been injured during a mission wasn't just because he was your best friend. The fury when Liz Allen had broken his heart wasn't just because he deserved better. Your intense feelings of loneliness whenever he left you wasn't just because there was no one else around.

You had been kidding yourself for what must have been months.

When you pulled apart he was smiling like a kid on Christmas morning, and you couldn't help but grin back. His happiness was infectious.

"Are we actually going to go to prom?" 

"It's up to you," he smiled, kissing your hand as you giggled. "But I think there is no way that you can look this good and we don't show anyone." 

"Peter."

"Besides, I want to show this Jordan that he has fucked up, and he has fucked up hard."  

"Peter."

-

A/N: So... I had a fantasy for an alternate ending to this fic where Peter and Y/N show up to prom and they have to suit up and save the day because something goes down. Let me know if that's something y'all would be interested in! Also let me know what you think of this mess!

[5hfanfiction]

Be Exemplary (Chapter 2)

a/n: hope y'all are still reading! :) this fic is also available on ao3 :)

       It had been over one week since Camila saw the Clique (Lauren) again, and boy, was she relieved.

          She carried on with her classes and was happy to find out that most of her classmates and teachers were decent and not repulsive in anyway; well, most of them. She also managed to eat lunch with Normani anytime she could, and Normani being the social butterfly she was, quickly introduced her to a myriad of people and even her own circle of friends; making Camila feel as if she totally skipped the whole awkward-new-girl phase that she was supposed to go through.

         On the second Wednesday of her schooling life, Camila was introduced to Normani’s posse or Normani’s Bitches, as Normani would like to call it. Because Normani was a senior and was in the Student Council, she knew a lot of people and naturally made a lot of friends, not caring about their age.

       They all usually met at the cafeteria during lunch.

         First, it was Ashley Frangipane. She was a senior as well and was the head of the softball team in their school. She was quirky and had very short hair, which Normani informed Camila, would change colour every 3 months.

          “Who cares if you’re going through a mental breakdown, just change your hair colour and you’ll be fine,” joked Ashley, winking at Camila and eliciting a laugh from her.      

       Then, it was Victoria Monet, who was another senior. Her body was incredible, that was embarrassingly the first thing Camila noticed, and her skin was flawless. She was apparently a cheerleader and helped out the cheerleading team with their choreography as she was friends with the Head Cheerleader. Normani and her were childhood friends and bonded over the likes of the one and only, Beyonce Knowles.

         “Normani was the first one to teach me to how to twerk,” Victoria told Camila; her eyes glinting as she silently teased Normani by pretending to wipe away a non-existent tear from her eyes. “I owe her my life,” she continued dramatically to which Normani could only roll her eyes and playfully shove her.

         Last but not least, was Hailee Steinfeld, who was surprisingly Camila’s age. However, sadly she didn’t really take much of the same classes as her. She was incredibly tall, and Camila squealed when she found out that she was in the Glee Club; effectively, launching them into a plethora of stories that dug deep into the source of their love for music. Camila quickly found out that they both had the same sense of humour and even liked the same artists; making her gush on the spot, happy to have made a solid new friend.

          “I’m sorry, but you guys have to realise that all of you guys are hot right?…. Like how does one group have that many hot people inside of it, like…how? It doesn’t make sense?” Camila genuinely complimented them as they were all so oblivious to their beauty. “Is that why y’all are befriending me? So that i can officially be that one ugly girl in that big group of super-hot girls? Is that it?” she sputtered out like word vomit; half- serious, half joking.

          The four girls simply laughed and launched themselves into a lecture of self-love and declarations of “you’re fucking beautiful, Camila, shut the fuck up”, which surprisingly, had its intended effect on the brown-eyed girl.

          Like every teenage girl in the world, Camila had always doubted the way she looked. Before she had hit puberty, she hated her teeth, her body and even the way her voice sounded. And her mentality hadn’t really changed much after she had hit puberty, even when she got taller and her body got filled in all the right places. Even when her jawline sharpened or when her cheekbones popped and her smile was literal sunshine, she still had days where her insecurities could eat at her.

         There were days when the brown-eyed girl acknowledged that she actually did have a curvaceous body and her teeth weren’t as crooked as before. She would feel sexy and confident with herself.

  But sadly, those days were rare and didn’t last very long.

  (It was one of the reasons, Camila concluded, that she hadn’t dated anyone all her life; she doesn’t have the confidence to. Even though, she had grown into this beautiful woman who actually turned heads, she struggled to love herself. And if she couldn’t, how could she expect someone else to?)

            She’s working on it though, she’s finding her self-worth. And she has a feeling with this group of friends, she might be able to find it faster than she thought.              

            Just like that, Camila’s lunches with Normani stretched to accommodate three more people and she was slowly initiated into the elusive Normani’s Bitches squad. The four of them exchanged numbers and the quadruplet was bonded. Camila was beyond grateful to have found a group of friends that she could vibe with.

  Everything was finally looking great for her. So, of course, it was time for a change.

—

       It didn’t seem like it, but Camila was actually a morning person. Sometimes, she would wake up from a dreamless dream before her alarm clock even rang. She would then get up to get ready and leave the house with an apple in her hand before heading to school. She loved coming to school early; mainly because it was quiet. Sure, there were a few students sat in the hallway or even in the library dozing off, but it still gave Camila the feel of being alone; and sometimes, she needed that.

           On the third Monday of her schooling week, Camila reached school at 7.10 a.m. for her 8.05 a.m. AP Literature class, and thankfully, she found that the class hadn’t been locked. She quickly slipped inside with her school bag slung over her shoulder to sit in her favourite seat; just in the middle section of the class but next to the window. She then dug into her backpack to pull out a pair of earphones; intending to get lost in her own world.

         She played her self-made playlist from Spotify that consisted of songs she wished she had written and she looked out the windows; swiftly forgetting about the world around her. The volume was almost at its max, and she observed the trees, the school benches, the slow traffic of students piling into the school.

  Sometimes people are so caught up in their  world that they fail to press pause and observe the world around them.

       Camila continued to stare outside of the window for what felt like 30 minutes, until she suddenly felt the hair on her neck stand up. She had an inkling of a feeling she was being watched from behind and she turned her head around instinctively as she pulled an earphone out from her ears.

         Her chocolate orbs abruptly locked with green and her hand flew to her chest as she almost jumped out of her skin; goosebumps rising all over.

         Sitting right next to her was none other than, Lauren Jauregui. The older girl kept her eyes on Camila as her signature smirk grew on her lips. She was leaning back on her chair and Camila wondered how long she had been sitting there; goosebumps failing to disperse and only worsening. Camila didn’t know what to do, or how to react; her shock was preventing her from forming normal words like a human being.

  (Her burning anger for Lauren suddenly forgotten.)

  Before she could say anything, Lauren spoke instead,“You’re the new girl right?”

        Camila did not expect her to sound like that. Her voice was deep,raspy and rugged, like she had smoked cigars and it made Camila’s heart jump. Camila stared for a second before answering, “Yeah, i am,”.

           “Hm,” Lauren hummed, leaning forward in her chair so that she was closer to Camila; making the younger girl instinctively lean back. The brown eyed girl felt like she was sitting next to a ticking-time bomb; all the rumours replaying in Camila’s mind.

           Lauren was still staring at her though, like she was trying to figure her out. Camila was transfixed by the other girl’s eyes because the sunlight hitting Lauren’s face suddenly revealed gold specks in them. The green eyed girl suddenly swiped her tongue along her bottom lip and Camila was horrified that her traitorous eyes followed the pink muscle. Obviously noticing the sudden deviation of eye contact, Lauren’s smirk grew wider but she asked Camila a somewhat surprising question.

            “I know you from somewhere, don’t i? What’s your name, babe?” asked Lauren, her smirk still in place. The word babe snapped Camila out of her transfixed stupor, though.

  Suddenly, the anger was back.

            “Well, i’m not exactly sure. Because the Lauren i knew back in first grade didn’t beat people up for the heck of it,” spat Camila, happy to see the smirk wiped clean off Lauren’s face and recognition flash across it. “And my name is Camila, not babe, so please, never call me that again,”

            However, as quickly as the smirk was wiped off Lauren’s face, it was back and in full force; making Camila uneasy. “Camila, huh?,” Lauren husked with a perfect Cuban accent; making Camila flush.

  (She wouldn’t admit it, but she never thought her name could ever sound that good coming from someone else’s mouth)

            Her emerald eyes bored into Camila’s and then suddenly descended to take their time raking over Camila’s body which was clad in a simple form fitting white t-shirt and black skinny jeans. “I never knew you would grow up to be this hot,” Camila felt a chill run down her spine at Lauren’s words, “You never told me you were moving but i’m glad,” Lauren continued, her eyes abruptly rising to Camila’s face, watching as her cheeks tinted red, “- because absence makes the heart grow fonder, and you look positively edible right now,” she finished with a wink, and right on the dot, the door opened for a flurry of students to walk in as well as the teacher; effectively disrupting the.. conversation both of them were having.

            Camila teared her eyes from Lauren’s as she willed her heart to stop beating so fast. Dis credulity seeped through her veins as she still felt scorching eyes on her. How fucking inappropriate can she be? Camila looked at her then with a withering glare which only made the green eyed girl chuckle to herself and put both her hands up in mock ‘surrender’; successfully irritating Camila more. Why does she have to be so infuriating?

           She doesn’t look at Lauren at all for the whole class and packed her bag swiftly to leave when the class ended, but to no avail, Lauren caught up with her outside class with a grip on her wrist which Camila yanked her hand out off.

           “Woah, woah, princess, slow down,” Lauren chuckled with a slight rasp, her tone flirty as she stepped dangerously into Camila’s personal space. The nickname sparking further annoyance in Camila. Thankfully, the students in the hallways were minding their own business (or at least they were pretending to), so Camila didn’t have to wish that the ground would just swallow her whole; just to get away from her most hated person at the moment. Suddenly, Lauren lifted a finger up to the brown-eyed girl’s chin to move her eyes up to hers.

  (The small contact made Camila’s heart burn, but she simply ruled it out to anger)

          Camila huffed then, taking a step back from the older girl with her arms crossed over her chest; away from her too green eyes. Lauren only took steps closer; testing Camila’s patience. Just as about Camila was going to retaliate and tell Lauren to leave her the fuck alone, Lauren spoke.

          “You know,” she dragged the last syllable of her sentence; coming eye to eye with Camila. Camila’s anger was increasing rapidly, her cells were just about vibrating. “You can’t ignore me forever. The more you resist me, the more i want you for myself. It’s a vicious cycle,” Lauren whispered to her; then, she brought her finger up to tuck Camila’s hair behind her ears but Camila broke her silence. She grabbed Lauren’s wrist in mid-air and inched closer to Lauren; temper engulfing her body. She had never once been violent or rough with people before, but Lauren’s high on superiority brought out the worst in Camila.

         “Get the fuck, away from me,” Camila seethed in Lauren’s face; leaving a stoned face Lauren behind as she stomped over to the cafeteria. Camila really hoped Normani would be able to calm her down, or else she was going to run back and slap Lauren in the face.

  Because quite frankly, she wasn’t scared of her.

—

        Camila encountered a mix of reactions from her friends when she left a hot trail behind her, basically slammed herself down on their table. She was fuming, and all the girls could tell. Before anyone could ask, Camila launched into everything that happened that day; her hands gestured to nothing and her eyes wild. When she was done, all of them had their jaws dropped.

           “You……basically….got in her face…and told her to fuck off..” Normani repeated to no one, but herself; trying to comprehend her new friend’s actions.

           “Holy fuck Camila, who knew you were such a badass!” exclaimed Ashley, putting an arm around Camila’s shoulder.

         “Girl…..you’re amazing….but, Lauren won’t let you go that easily ,” echoed Hailee. The other girl had been around longer than Camila and had never seen the consequences of someone rejecting Lauren like that. “She’s going to come after you,”

           “Oh c’mon,” Ashley replied, “Lauren’s not that bad, she’ll make you a target for a few weeks, but then she’ll just let you go,” she nonchalantly said while taking a bite out of her burger; mayonnaise dripping down her chin.

         “‘Lauren’s not that bad’? Are you serious Ashley?.. Don’t listen to her Mila, Ashley has a soft spot for Lauren because they dated freshman year,” argued Victoria, who finally managed to wrap her head around the information that Camila told her.

          That caught Camila’s interest. “Wait, wait, wait…Ashley dated Lauren?” she asked incredulously, trying to imagine it in her mind but failing all together.

        “Yeah, for a hot second,” replied Ashley, licking ketchup off her fingers, “It was when Lauren, Ally and Dinah was just Lauren, Ally and Dinah y’know, before they were the Clique,” supplied Ashley. “She was charming, sweet and not to mention, a really good kisser,” Ashley finished with a wink; earning a few ‘ews’ from the table but Camila only felt her stomach turn with nervousness.

            Normani slurped her drink and added, “The Clique only became the Clique at the start of sophomore year. Something changed in Lauren, and the other two just tagged along. Blindly,”

            The ebony-skinned girl’s tone had taken a melancholy turn towards the end of her sentence, and Camila wondered if it had something to with Dinah. She never really did bring it up with her.

            “Before that, they used to pick fights, though unnecessary and dumb, to help people or protect people,..but then, they started to pick fights for their own selfish gain, and they flaunted their egos like its a flag,” explained Normani, her voice low and rough.

            “Though,” Ashley piped in, “Lauren has only ever hit boys though, i have never seen her hit a girl. And in this situation, since you’re a girl, she just might, i don’t know, publicly humiliate you or best case scenario, harass you until you give in,” she finished with a tilt of her head; her tone full of satire.

            Camila choked on her drink upon hearing those last words from Ashley’s mouth. “That’s the best fucking case scenario, are you serious right now?” Camila spluttered; trying very hard not to imagine what giving in to Lauren would be like.

  (Her new friends knew about her lack of relationships and her lip-virgin situation, which gave them the ammunition they needed to give her a proper opportunity for embarrassment.)

           “Aw babe, it ain’t that bad. You like girls right, well, Lauren’s a fucking hot one and i’m pretty sure she can show you a good time if you know what i mean. She has a lot of experience, and she could even teach you, don’t worry” Ashley replied with a faux reassuring tone. Victoria and Hailee made kissy noises in the background; effectively turning Camila into a blushing mess. She instantly regretted her choice of spilling all her beans.

         “Guys, y’all are shaming her, how dare y’all,” Normani scolded and took Camila’s hand in hers. “You told me that you knew Lauren in 1st grade,” stated Normani; earning a few “woah, what”s and “seriously”s from the other girls at the table and a nod from Camila. “We can only hope that because of that, she’ll treat you differently and not like any other girl around here,”

         “I know you’re angry and a little bit frustrated of how much she has changed since then, but look at it this way, you’re only going to see her for a year, so just ignore her and don’t fall into her trap,” reassured Normani; finally helping to calm down an enraged Camila.

      “Yeah, she’s going to try to push all your buttons, but don’t let her, soon enough she’ll just switch to another girl,” Victoria advised, patting Camila on the back a few times.

          Camila smiled at both of them, showing them her pearly whites as she gave them both a small nod. She could get through this, especially with these friends by her side. “Thanks guys for all the advice, i can only hope now that God saves my soul,” Camila dramatically announced, her mind still reeling from all the advice she had gotten a few minutes ago.

         She mulled over it and the details her friends had given her; daydreaming as she stared out to the cafeteria.

           Something had changed Lauren in sophomore year.  Right as that thought passed her mind, her eyes zeroed in on three pairs of legs that walked into the cafeteria.

  Speak of the devil.

           She saw Lauren and quickly looked away before they locked eyes with each other again. She couldn’t handle the tension.

  Operation “Try to Ignore Her and Not Fall Into Her Trap” was a go.

—

The plan was working, it really was.

         For a month, Camila turned a blind eye to Lauren’s actions; ignoring her questions, her winks, her taunts and uncalled for catcalls in the hallway. She couldn’t completely escape her in Literature class because the emerald-eyed girl always chose to sit right next to her, but other than that, she managed to avoid her very successfully. It was easy, but only because of her newly-made friends. They told her about where the Clique usually hung out and places where they usually don’t; like the library, or sometimes, even the field.

         Therefore, Camila made it a point to never go to school early again (no matter how much it was a sanctuary to her) and found a way to spend all her free time with one of Normani’s Bitches so that she would never be truly alone; and when that didn’t work, she mostly just spent her time in the library. She could listen to her music in there as well; no one could stop her.

        The only thing was that the whole walking-on-eggshells thing was a major downside.

          Everytime she as much as caught sight of Lauren and her Clique, she would strut away like her life depended on it, or put in her earphones so she could block the older girl out for good. However, she noticed, Lauren was never affected by it. It was like she was used to it; which got on Camila’s nerves even more.

  There were always wider smirks and brighter, glinting green eyes.

  If Camila had to roll her eyes any longer, she was sure that it would fall out of her head.

  It was like a game to Lauren.

       Everytime she was ignored, or her attention was shunned; she came back more determined. Her words still rung in Camila’s mind, “The more you resist me, the more i want you for myself,” and it made the brown-eyed girl gag. Not only was that statement borderline invasive, it was also creepy as fuck.

  (And it made Camila’s skin shiver; not a good sign)

         Camila could only avoid the bane of her existence for so long, and after a while, it got hard for her to keep up with all the rules of her “operation”. Especially because after the first two months, she rarely saw Lauren anymore anyway; therefore, she hoped that she had taken a damn hint and started harassing some other girl whose name was not “Camila”.

  (Though having that thought made Camila feel incredibly sorry for the supposed ‘other girl’.)

  Maybe, it was safe to bend the rules a little.

          So on Wednesday, Camila decided to say “fuck it” and she arrived at school early; however, she had forgotten her water bottle. Therefore, when she reached school after walking for 10 minutes, she needed a drink. It was 7.20 a.m. and the school was kind of empty. She rushed over to the water fountain near the teacher’s lounge and bent down to take a drink; ignoring the slight concern for germs that she had.

         She was midway drinking when she heard a voice sound out behind her; the raspy voice of the one person she had tried to ignore for the last two months.

          “You have no idea how many times i’ve imagined you in this position,”

         Camila choked on the water she was drinking, coughing one or two times; her face getting red with the innuendo implied.

         Embarrassment set in, and with it, hot, burning anger. Camila was done feeling like she had to adapt to Lauren’s setting, and she was going to make it clear. She spun on her heels only to catch Lauren’s eyes speedily meet hers as they were clearly checking Camila out; only making Camila even more annoyed. Her bottom lip was caught by her teeth and Camila forced herself not to look at the plump skin.

         “Why? So you could fuck me with your non-existent dick?” Camila asked her; surprising herself with her choice of words that dripped with sarcasm as her eyes burned into Lauren’s which widened. Both of her perfectly trimmed eyebrows rose as she took a step closer to Camila; the surprise evident in her features.

          “Wow, you’re feisty, huh?,” she answered her, stepping into her personal space even more, and Camila unconsciously moved back until her back hit the wall; allowing Lauren to effectively corner her. The older girl smelled like smoke and Camila’s nose wrinkled at the unfamiliar smell. Lauren pretended to think before getting eye-to-eye with the younger-girl; her green eyes almost black.

           “Um… sadly, maybe not a dick, but i’m sure a strap-on could do the job just as well,” she whispered to her; breath hitting Camila’s flushed face.

          Before Camila could respond with a fiery comeback; trying her best to ignore the increased pounding of her heart in her chest, Lauren beat her to it.

        “But maybe we can save that for later….something tells me you’ve never used these before,” Lauren continued, her voice husky; bringing one finger up to trace Camila’s upper lip with her papillae; her eyes focusing on her lips rather than her eyes, and Camila felt her breath hitch in her throat. “Am i right?”

  Like hell was she going to have her first kiss with fucking Lauren.

           Finally gaining back strength in the muscles of her arm to work again, she used them to shove Lauren back; barely making her move a step or two. “Shut up, what the fuck is wrong with you?” she seethed at her; a mixture of shame and anger rolling off her body.

          Disgustingly, Lauren only chuckled; the hallways echoed her throaty laugh. “So, i guess i’m right, huh?,” she replied, not waiting for a flustered Camila to answer while her eyes glinted with mischief. “I always knew i had a sixth sense,” she complimented herself as Camila abruptly spun around and walked away from her; she could no longer be in the presence of that psycho path.

         “You can walk away from me as much as you want babe, but just know that you’re giving me the view that i want,” called out Lauren from behind her, and Camila willed herself not to throw up in her mouth.

  Never had she felt so violated in her entire life, like she had no control.

  How the fuck was she going to survive the school year?

—

         “I don’t know what to do Ari, she’s everywhere,” Camila huffed onto the phone as she laid on her bed. Her hair was still wet from her shower and she just felt tired.

           “Babe, you have to pull through this. I feel like she’s only targeting you because she feels like she knows you- or maybe, because you’re her blast from the past, she’s hogging on you even more to prove herself to you, or maybe i don’t know, herself,” Ari reasoned with Camila, her voice sweet and extremely calming to Camila’s ears; though her use of the word ‘babe’ made her flinch a little.

            “Okay, Psychology major, we get it,” Camila teased her best friend, earning a genuine laugh from her. “She just infuriates me all the time with her stupid stares with her stupid green eyes and her completely inappropriate comments about my ass, and sometimes, i’m so shocked by the things she says that i just stand there stagnant, and i can’t move, like her green eyes turn me into stone or something,” rambled the younger girl; reliving her horrid moments in school.

           “Green eyes, huh?,” enquired Ariana, her tone ending with a tilt.

  (She only noticed because Camila said it like 75045847 times.)

            Camila, who was confused at the question, answered with a question, “Yeah, and it’s weird because they sometimes change colour and they have gold specks in them which is kind of creepy…but yeah, what’s your point?”

            “Oh, nothing, just a question,” Ariana deadpanned mysteriously; leaving Camila with an abundance of curiosity. “Ari, what are you trying to sa-”

            “No,no it’s nothing really. Back to me advising you- so, just think about the upcoming events your school is having! Aren’t the auditions for ‘Grease’ and slash Glee Club coming up?,” responded Ariana; effectively diverting Camila’s thought process to the musical play.

            “Yeah! Normani told me that audition sheets are going up tomorrow, i’m going to be the first one to sign up!,” Camila’s excitement could be heard through the phone screen. She continued, “Normani says that it’s also kind of an audition for the Glee Club, like those who are picked have the chance to be in the Glee Club if they wanted to! Who do you think i should play? Sandy? But i feel like…”

  And just like that their conversation stretched on and on about outfits and song choices; far away from the topic that wore leather jeans and red lipstick.

  —

          It was 7.30 a.m. and Camila was staring at the audition sheet pinned the board in front of her. It was decorated with ‘Grease’ memorabilia with John Travolta’s and Olivia Newton John’s face on it; making Camila smile at the nostalgia she felt. A pen hung by its side and Camila looked at it, still pondering on which character she should audition for; staring at the “Character” column that was highlighted on the sheet.

          Normani and Victoria told her to go for Sandy, go big or go home. However, Ashley and Hailee (who was also auditioning) told her to go for a smaller role because the big roles are usually given to the seniors. Camila was honestly okay with anything, as long as she got to be up on that stage and sing, she was fine. It also helped that ‘Grease’ was one of her favourite musicals of all time.

          “Are you going to stare at that paper all day or what?” a deep raspy voice sounded in Camila’s left ear; making her jump out of her skin. She turned around to find Lauren right behind her; her signature smirk still in place.

          “What’s the rush? Are you going to audition as well?” tormented Camila; annoyance in her voice.

          Lauren only smirked and ignored her question. “I think you would be a great Sandy, y’know, it’d be very fitting. Goody-two shoes girl who falls head over heels with a stud in a leather jacket. Sounds familiar, don’t you think?” she replied, her tone flirty as she simply stared into Camila’s doe eyes; unblinking.

          “Give me a break,” huffed Camila, turning her back on Lauren; tired of her silly mind games. “It couldn’t be further from the truth,” she replied as she finally made up her mind and wrote down her name together with “Frenchy” under the ‘Character’ column. When she turned back around, Lauren was actually giving her a smile.

         A whole smile, not just a stupid smirk and Camila unexpectedly felt her heart jump a little. “Bold choice, not one i would choose though,” the green eyed girl shrugged.

         Annoyed by her reaction, Camila folded her arms over her chest. “And what would you possibly choose? All you know how to do is harass and torment other people like the bully you are,” her verbal diatribe spilled out of her mouth before she could stop it.

          Lauren simply stood in front of her with a smirk in place. Camila’s nerves were suddenly haywire; unsure of what Lauren was going to say or do next.

         Then, Lauren walked around her; allowing the Cuban to catch a whiff of smoke before the green-eyed girl grabbed the pen by the audition sheet. Camila’s eyes bulged out of her head as the older girl proceeded to write down her name and her character- “Rizzo”. Holy fuck, this is not happening. Lauren then dropped her pen and turned around on her heels; facing Camila’s shocked face with her stupid signature smirk still in place.

      “See you at auditions, babe” she said, her tone mischievous as she winked at Camila before walking down the hallway.

         Camila couldn’t even react properly to the nickname she hated. She was bombarded with thoughts and eventually, slight panic about the hours and hours that she might have to spend with Lauren if she was actually any good.

  And it made her head hurt.

[yourjughead]

Karaoke

Sweet Pea x reader from Prompts list.

Synopsis: Sweet Pea drunkenly proclaims his love for you in a very public setting

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

Sweet Pea sat on a barstool in the crowded, poorly lit Whyte Wyrm with you standing between his legs, back against his chest. Toni fought with Fangs from behind the bar and the both of you just laughed at them. You had a hand on either of Sweet Peas legs, his fingers intertwined with yours before he folded them across your chest and pulled you back against him in a hug. He rested his head on one of your shoulders and smiled at his two best friends.

“Hey guys, hey YN, you wanna dance?”

“You want to take a fucking walk on the freeway Flynn?” Sweet Pea sat up straight and answered aggressively before you could say anything. You sent an elbow backwards into his stomach and he huffed.

“No thanks Flynn, maybe later” you gave a little smile while Sweet Pea was full on glaring. After he sulked off you turned on the spot so now you and Sweet Pea were chest to chest.

“Pea, chill out” you put your hands on his shoulders and he leaned against one. His eyes went from your eyes to your lips and back again, he couldn't help but fall in love with his best friend. Fangs snaked a hand around your waist and pulled you back into him, you both laughing.

“Yeah Pea, chill out, sharing is caring” Fangs used your pet name for Sweet Pea against him and he hated it. Sweet Pea caught your hand and pulled you back, glaring at Fangs who only rolled his eyes. It was an unspoken rule that you were off limits, the only problem was that Serpents liked to break the rules every now and then.

“I'm going to go dancing, come on Toni" she tossed the dishcloth to another person on duty and followed you to the floor. Quickly Flynn joined the both of you and Sweet Peas blood began to boil.

“Dude chill out, that vein in your head is going to explode, here have a drink” he handed a pint to Sweet Pea which he downed in one.

“Woah SP, steady on you don't wa-”

“More” Sweet Pea was sitting, facing the dance floor watching you dance with Flynn and Toni.

“More!” He banged his hand off the bar and a shot was quickly put into it and then devoured. This was met with another bang of the mahogany and another shot with this was repeated numerous times. Soon Sweet Pea was more than a little tipsy.

Before Fangs could stop him, he had found his way to the microphone on stage, if not a little unsteadily.

“YN!” he shouted your name into the microphone and it howled back at him causing the crowd to flinch.

“Yn? Where's ynn?! Oh hey there you are! Heeeeey” he was hanging off the microphone stand as the majority of Serpent eyes focused on him. You and Toni were laughing but really it made you intensely nervous.

“So right yn, yeah hey YN! Remember when we were kids and you pus-hed me into Sweetwater river beca-use I melted your Ba-rbie with a lighter, by the way who let's kids have light-ers, bad parents! But anyway then you reali-sed I coul-dn't swim and you do-ve in and saved me” it was a barely understandable slur but you nodded anyway, getting the gist of the story.

“Well I have fucki-ng loved you ever since then! And I fucking hate feelin-gs so yanno, screw you for that but anyway-” fangs rushed onto the stage and tried to grab the mic off Sweet Pea, failing due to the sheer height difference alone. Colour had filled your cheeks and your heart was thumping like it wanted to escape your ribcage.

“Listen Fa-ngs I'll hug you later! God go hug Kevin we all know you want to-” Fangs stood back shocked at Sweet Peas betrayal of trust.

“Yanno what SP! FINE!” and then he stormed off

“Woah Jesus chill out, i sa-id I'd hug you later! So needy!...Where was I...YN! where'd she g- oh I found her, her middle name must be Waldo! ((Wallie, Charlie, whatever you call him where you are)). So for you Waldoooo, I have a present! Here's a little song I like to call I cherish our friendship so I won't tell you that I'd fuck you if you asked and I love you so fucking much” he cleared his throat before belting one note and then being tackled to the ground by Fangs, having decided he couldn't let Sweet Pea sing, for everyone's sake more so than his own.

~

Sweet Pea stretched against his comforter and was instantly hit by the pounding of his head as he attempted to sit up.

“Oh gooooooddddd” he just let himself fall back down, pulling the duvet over his eyes to shield them from the unforgiving sun.

“Morning Beyonce, care for some painkillers?” He peeked out to see you standing in one of his shirts/ swimming in one of his shirts, a glass of water and two white pills in your hand.

“you wonderful angel” he took them eagerly and then ran a hand over the growing bump on his head, marked with a cut.

“Fangs did that to you when he tackled you” you sat alongside him, munching toast.

“Why did he do that? Why are you here? Did you stay here?” he was utterly confused but found the painkillers gently soothing him.

“Yeah i slept on the floor after Fangs and I carried you home. I just wanted to make sure you’d wake up in the morning and didn't choke on your own vomit or something...and well he didn't want you to sing your little song”

“My little….oh my god someone kill me!!!” He buried himself under the covers

“It's all flooding back, does fangs hate me?”

“A little but he's more focused on making sure Jughead doesn't tell Kevin about what you said”

“Do you hate me?” It was mumbled beneath the covers.

“well I mean my dad, who by the way was there, isn't super impressed with you so I don't appreciate that but I don't hate you no...well not for this reason. Would I have preferred it if you said you loved me not drunk and in front of everyone? Sure but I'll take what I get”

“I'm sorry” he let his eyes come out from hiding.

“It's okay Pea, I know saying those words isn't easy for you and maybe you would have never said them sober so-"

“-i love you yn, there, I said it sober”

“Well that doesn't count because you're probably still drunk from last night” you nudged him laughing and he muffled the pain of the hangover. “Thanks for looking after me”

“Thanks for saying I love you first”

“Thanks for not leaving me drown in Sweetwater river” you chuckled lightly, pushing yourself down in the bed so you could lie next to him, his hangover seeming to almost disappear at the action.

“You're welcome,i should have really just let you though, would have been easier in the long run” you laughed and he nudged you before you continued

“I love you too Pea, you're my best friend” it was like being hit by a bus for Sweet Pea.

“Umm yn, Its more than just- I mean I love being your friend but I- what I'm trying to say is-” you cut him off with a sweet kiss. His hangover melting away.

“I know Pea, I just wanted to see you squirm”

“Not cool, I'm going to sing for you now as punishment!”

“No no no no no I'm sorry no!” but it was too late, he was howling and you were laughing at a volume to match.

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

Xx

[juangallojongaro]

Best of 2020

Bruce Springsteen – “If I Was the Priest” Lauded as a return to form for the Boss (I found the album…middling?), this is the standout track on Letter to You. Written in the early seventies and first recorded this year, the track is a perfect slice of Springsteen pomp. A soaring Marian Devotional that recasts the Holy Family as prostitutes, saloon proprietors, and cowboys, it’s grandiose, kind of stupid, and perfectly Springsteen.

Cardi B (ft. Megan Thee Stallion) – “WAP” When I first heard it, I was wandering through one of those endless early quarantine days that have all blended together. It made me laugh, and since I’ve listened to it at least 20 times. Really grateful for Cardi B! LYRIC OF THE YEAR 1: “I want you to park that Big Mack Truck right in this little garage”

Colter Wall – “Big Iron” I spent the latter half of the year reading and thinking about American Westerns. This Marty Robbins cover is a delight. Wall has a remarkable voice, deep and tonal. The sparse instrumentation sets the table perfectly for the confrontation between the Arizona Ranger and the dastardly Texas Red.

Dogleg – “Kawasaki Backflip” The virus turned the volume down on everything and stretched it out. It’s a small and personal unfairness I wasn’t able to see this band shred through this spectacular song in some shitty hot venue while drunk on too expensive beer.

Doja Cat (ft. Nicki Minaj) – “Say So” So, this was a TikTok meme, right? I thought TikTok would fill the Vine-sized hole in my life (RIP, Vine, the only good social media); alas, it wasn’t to be, as it seems to be a platform built exclusively to encourage mediocre young white men to be mediocre-er. I digress; this song is fucking great. Built on the Niles Rodgers-esque disco guitar riff, the addition of a typically professional Minaj elevates this from confection to classic.

Dua Lipa – “Levitating” The lyrics are asinine (see: “My sugarboo/I’m levitating/The Milky Way is liberating/Yeah yeah yeah”). Pop music doesn’t have to have lyrics this dumb (see: above Cardi B re: the garage), but alas. It’s a shame, because the rest of this package is so slick, a pop fan’s wet dream of talent, groove, and Top 40 danceability.

Fiona Apple – “Shameika” The word genius is probably thrown around to liberally, but 2020 marked a moment when the culture seemed to coalesce to bestow the honorarium on Apple. And why not? She’s released five albums, all of them at least great. She’s a singular voice, making scabrous, confident, off-putting, kinda fucked up music (who among us didn’t hear her wail, “You raped me in the same bed your daughter was born in” and not, like, gulp and say out loud to no one, “yikes!”). Despite the traumatic subject matter, the songs are a fucking auditory pleasure. When we were all cooped up this year, Apple’s claustrophobia was a balm.

illuminati hotties – “content//bedtime” In 2019, I had the pleasure of seeing IH open for pup at the Old National Center. After their set, I was on my way to the baño¸ and noticed IH front person Sarah Tudzin at the merch table. I approached, expressed my admiration for her work, and inquired as to the release of the next album. The reception was chilly! It turns out that Tudzin was fighting her label, ultimately leading to the release of FREE I.H.: This is Not the One You’ve Been Waiting For, a weird little record made for the express purpose of getting out of her contract. It’s still a good album! And this song is a wacky Oingo Bingo-y banger. LYRIC OF THE YEAR 2: “Woah-oh-oh-oh/No-oh-oh-oh/Pouring a bowl of Illuminati hot-o's.”

Jeff Rosenstock – “***BNB” It took me a minute, but once I released it was a song about a mother secretly renting out her adult daughter’s room as an AIRBNB, I was smitten. It eventually turns into an extremely Rosenstockian loud meditation on the difficulty/anxiety/sadness of travel which is good and kick ass.

Jessie Ware – “Remember Where You Are” It’s fucking annoying as shit that the year disco came back (see: Cat, Doja; Lipa, Dua; Genius, Perfume) that we were all stuck in our fucking houses with our fucking cat who is 85% sweet and 15% annoying and 100% smelly god I love her.

The Killers (ft. k.d. lang) – “Lightning Fields” This is probably not the best song on this album (gotta be “Caution”, right?), but it is the stupidest which probably makes it the most Killers-y track of the year. It was somewhere around uttering the question, “are we human/are we dancer” that the Nevada-based boys decided to start fucking around non-stop. This song carries on that proud tradition. The metaphors are incomprehensible, it sounds kinda like “Like a Prayer” at the end, and has a friggin’ great k.d. lang guest spot. It’s so fucking dumb.

Megan Thee Stallion (ft. Beyoncé) – “Savage Remix” This is basically a Beyoncé (just discovered Word will autocorrect Beyonce to Beyoncé. Good job, Bill Gates) song, and it’s wonderful! That part when she goes from whisper singing to full Beyoncé-voice singing at the three-minute mark? The best!

NOBRO – “Marianna” A perfect rock song. The last minute is the best minute of music in 2020 and it’s like, 40% of the song.

Origami Angel – “24 Hr Delivery/KD MVP” For whatever reason, this emo revival duo released an EP of songs using Minecraft samples. Ostensibly a remake of their 2019 twee-bullshit ode to making your sad friend feel better by taking them out to get fast food, the song segues into a completely baffling yet moving sound collage featuring sad piano, cheese guitar, and Kevin Durant’s tearful NBA MVP speech. I don’t claim to understand it, but the heart wants what it wants. A slam dunk!

Orville Peck – “Fancy” My wife won’t let me listen to this Reba McIntyre cover in the house because it makes her cry every time. We’ve learned a lot about each other this year.

Perfume Genius – “On the Floor” A sumptuous slinker. Plausibly the best song about dancing on your own since Robyn’s classic, “Dancing on My Own,” it’s an emotional powerhouse. Have I sang this song while crying in the shower? No. Would I? You bet! LYRIC OF THE YEAR 3: “I cross out his name on the page!”

Phoebe Bridgers – “Savior Complex (Copycat Killer Version),” “I Know the End” 2020 fucking sucked. I couldn’t go outside. I couldn’t see my pals. I got stuck in my loft for ten days with a COVID scare. My life shrank and it became too easy to doom scroll all the shitty news of mass death, the senseless murder of unarmed black people, riots, curfews, the fucking election, and then the chaser of a bunch of white supremacists trying to overturn a free and fair election because they can’t believe a majority of Americans are tired of being run by a big wet racist moron.

I’m not saying that Bridgers had anything to say this year about The World, but when I felt the worst I put on Punisher. It didn’t make me feel better, but it didn’t make me feel worse. It’s the sadgirl album for the sadgirl year. ALBUM OF THE YEAR: Punisher.

Rilo Kiley – “Teenage Lovesong” Rescued from the scrap heap of history, Rilo Kiley re-released their self-titled debut that was originally only available at their live shows. It’s a precocious record (there’s some, like, turntable scratching on one song???), but it’s astonishing how fully formed Jenny Lewis’s voice is even in 1999. That instrument is on display in this old fashioned twanger, where Lewis shows off the tone, clarity, and range.

Run the Jewels – “ooh la la” Listened to this song very loud in a rental Mustang driving from Joshua Tree to Vegas in January. It was cool.

Sturgill Simpson – “Just Let Go” Ol’ Sturg decided that 2020 was the year to become a bluegrass boy and you’ll hear no complainin’ from Ol’ Johnny. This reworking of his 2014 transcendental ode to the “universal shared consciousness,” becomes a good hearted bluegrass ditty brimming with existential joy.

[cabeswaterlovesthem]

Vancouver Crowd

I don’t know if anybody else has headcanons for these boys but I have noticed a lack of them. So here are some bits I’ve written up for each of the boys of the Litchfield House please feel free to add on to these! I used what little info we had about them from the books to form some bullets. 

HENRY BROADWAY AKA CHENG2

Known as Cheng2 not because we was the second Cheng, but rather the second Henry. He sort of embraces this though because him and Henry have been best friends since private primary school and have been attached at the hip for years.

Cheng2 was always the shy one which is how he ended up being the 2. He didn’t really like to let anybody get too close to him and prefers to have only a few close friends over a big group.

But the reserved side of Cheng2 ceased to exist when he started at Agliony. Henry managed to form a group around him that made Cheng2 feel comfortable and included. Soon, his louder side was coming out.

One of the things about being the shy guy was that he spent a lot of time not really talking to anyone so, because of it, when he does open his mouth, usually it’s to say something unbelievably stupid like “Holy fuck, we got girls?” but yah know.

He’s a fucking economics wiz and plans on majoring it. He’s pretty much Ivy League bound which is fine by him. He doesn’t know what getting burnt out feels like. He works incredibly hard for his good grades and hasn’t found that they have come easy to him like some of his other friends. But he lives for success. He has goals and he’s going to achieve them and nobody is going to stop him.

That’s probably because he’s constantly drinking a red bull to stay up studying until 4am and then smoking a bowl to fall asleep. The other perk of being The Shy Guy at school is that nobody knows when you show up high to class. He’s taken advantage of this fact multiple times.

RYANG (WOO?)

Ryang (aka Mrs. Woo’s nephew) is a piece of fucking work my guys let me tell you.

Ryang is always pissed about something happening in the world and has to do something about it. If there’s a charity drive happening at Aglionby you can imagine he is behind it.

There are about 20 cats roaming around Litchfield House and they’re all there because Ryang saved them from a kill shelter two summers ago. They all have names after famous activists (although one is named Beyonce after a long winded argument with Henry in which Henry sorted every good thing Beyonce has ever done for the world) and they all have collars.

Ryang can often be found sleeping in a bed with five cats because all his anger exhausts him so much that he needs to take a lot of naps. This is extremely frustrating to Koh who likes to cuddle but is slightly allergic to cats and all the hair that collects in Ryang’s bed is just too much.

He drives a motorcycle and has his own custom helmet made that Koh designed for him. Did I get to the part where they’re both in love with each other but won’t admit it? Maybe that’s a story for a different night.

One time Ryang tied himself to a tree on Aglionby’s campus to save it and all the Vancouver boys rallied enough support around him that the tree stayed and the plans for a new media center were moved to another location on campus.

His favorite kind of music is classic rock and, no offense to Henry, but he can’t stand pop. He only tolerates it when he’s drinking with the guys. He also lightens up a bit when he’s drinking and is often the one to initiate weird games.

But otherwise, he’s generally standoffish but Koh softens his edges a lot. He doesn’t mean to be standoffish, but he’s staunch in his opinions and demands his peers learn to be better. It comes from years of dealing with privileged white boys in his classes.

Him and Cheng2 often have heated discussions about policy and the latest United Nations topics.

KOH

Koh is almost the opposite of Ryang. He’s a ball of energy who is actually quite liked by everybody. He is on the student government at Aglionby because of his generally positive attitude and friendly nature.

He’s acquaintances with pretty much everybody at school and has a way of making everybody feel included.

Probably because he’s a team player from being a fricken soccer star. It’s insane how good he is. He works out for it but most of it is absolutely natural skill and when he’s not at Litchfield he’s probably on the pitch.

Koh is crazy smart but he couldn’t give half a shit about half his classes. His interests include the finer things in life like golfing on the weekend and drinking fancy drinks at a club house. He’s a little flippant with his money which drives Ryang fucking nuts sometimes but he always shuts him up by showing up to every single one of Ryang’s fundraisers- even if they do start at ass o’clock in the morning.

His grades are good but he really doesn’t try and honestly? High school is a bust. He already has plans to go to business school and take over the family’s pharmaceutical company (but hopefully only after he plays in the premier leagues for a bit).

There is one class that he tries in and it’s music. He sort of loves mixing records together and will often steal the speakers away during parties to control the music. He doesn’t really think he can pursue it, but the boys have been really encouraging him to not give it up. Secretly Koh wants to be encouraged….

As much as him and Ryang are polar opposites in a lot of ways (he’s materialistic where Ryang is minimalist) their heated debates are usually dripping with tension. And when Ryang sneaks downstairs into Koh’s cat-free room to sleep, they don’t talk about it in the morning.

(To be perfectly honest, the book wasn’t clear about whether or not SickSteve, Logan, or Lee-Squared live at Litchfield but I don’t care for the sake of this headcanon. They live there now. Welcome home, boys.)

SICKSTEVE

Bruh, you know what you have to do to get a nickname like that? A lot of sick shit that’s what.

SickSteve is the epitome of awesome and has the wildest stories. Like one time he went to the Vatican and puked in the holy water because he was too hungover.

And another time he skateboarded off a roof into a pool and broke his arm.

Literally there isn’t a weekend that Steve doesn’t have a story for on Monday morning. And it isn’t like he’s trying hard to do shit- it’s just his nature to be wild.

He owns a BMW but it’s his third one so far because he keeps finding ways to fucking total them by accident trying to do donuts too close to a building or some shit. It’s literally insane.

The crazy thing is he’s so calm and nonchalant about it all. Like you would not at all guess by his demeanor at school that he’s such a crazy guy, but the minute he starts telling you a story your jaw can’t not hit the ground in shock.

And he’s always somehow convincing the guys to pull stupid shit with him. He’s crazy persuasive about it and thanks to him most of the other guys’ lives have gotten a lot more fun. He’s the reason for their toga parties 99% of the time because they just want to see what will happen after he takes a few shots and a hit of weed.

But perhaps the wildest thing about Steve is that he is the biggest movie buff any of them have ever met and can quote over a hundred movies from start to finish. It would be annoying if Steve didn’t turn the volume down and improv half the time. He’s just got this good humor about him that everybody likes to be around but will shrug when you tell him he’s funny.

LOGAN RUTHERFORD

He’s basically their classic fuckboy who they constantly rag on for having a white boy name.

Logan is the resident lax bro of the house due to the fact that 1. he does play lax and 2. he’s actually that obnoxious about it.

He wears bro tanks and backwards hats and spends a ton of time at the gym. Protein shakes are pretty much his staple and he tries to convince the whole house to get into shape to no avail. So instead, they dedicated one cabinet to all his health food junk and tell him they weren’t going to touch it anyways.

He’s the beer pong champion of the house and likes to brag about it a lot. He’s also the one who supplies most of the alcohol as his family lives in town and his brother is attending college nearby.

His family is old money which is weird for their little group. Nobody knows the backstory though because Logan doesn’t get along with his father. His parents are divorced and he was raised by his mother and step father instead. Thankfully the divorce settlement was insane so his mother made out like a bandit. Which Logan thinks is karma because his father is a dick.

He gets pretty terrible grades in school because he’s more focused on sports and it pisses his dad off when he sends his report card.

He seems like he doesn’t quite fit in with the rest of them, but the truth is that Logan has a really big heart, he just keeps it on lockdown. He had a tough time growing up that he doesn’t talk about a lot but has opened up to his friends about. Because of that, they put up with his bro bullshit for the guy who would drop absolutely anything to be there for them if they asked.

More than once he’s been the friend they’ve called at 4am to come pick them up or the one they’ve gone to crying after a really bad day. He’s a good listener and a great hugger and knows how to make things better with a smile and some froyo.

LEE-SQUARED

He’s known as “Lee-Squared” because he has a twin sister (who Cheng2 has a huge fucking crush on which drives Lee-Squared absolutely nuts). 

Lee is actually his last name but he prefers to be called that anyways so it works out. 

He’s incredibly insanely close to his family and it’s hard to be away from them during the school year. He’s from California and fucking hates the east coast winters to be honest.

He’s got the west coast sort of attitude too. Super laid back. Absolutely surfs in the summer. Is cold 99% of the time and is always turning the heat up and driving the house nuts. Smokes a shit ton of weed with Cheng2.

Generally he’s pretty quiet, even when he drinks. He’s big on observing and people watching over participating in events. 

He’s the only one who will eat Logan’s healthy meals and goes running with him sometimes. 

Lee-Squared is also a huge fucking nerd who loves reading and writing and psychology and anything that involves personal connection. He’s taken up yoga and mediating and is always looking for ways to find his calm.

The reason why is because while his exterior is calm, his mind is usually moving a mile a minute. He’s got pretty bad internal anxiety but he doesn’t like to talk about it a lot. He’s pretty self deprecating and second guesses himself a lot. Him and Logan talk about it sometimes and the runs with Logan sometimes help him turn his brain off for awhile. 

Him and Logan become even closer after sharing their backgrounds and really support and love the heck out of each other. They don’t externally appear soft ever, but truly they are. 

Anyways, all the Vancouver boys are good good boys who I love and adore thanks for listening! 

Edit: I worked really hard on these and did as much research as I could but I may have missed things from the book so feel free to point them out and I will add them! Like someone mentioned Koh was on the soccer time so I have since amended my headcanon. So as a general disclaimer, I tried my best here but do not be afraid to be like, “Hey, actually, this makes more sense based on their character!”

[mistakemessenger-imagines]

the rfa and v with an mc who loves to sing around the house and in the car and stuff, but cant actually sing very well? thanks and happy new year!!! -anon

“Happy new year”…ahaha thanks for being patient!

Yoosung:

You’re always singing around the house

When on your laptop listening to music, making dinner, or in the shower

Albeit, you weren’t a very good singer, but Yoosung found it very endearing (everything you do is endearing to sunshine boi)

Plus he isn’t a good singer either and he’s not one to judge 

It makes him so happy to see you enjoying yourself when you’re dancing around the house and having fun and just being yourself

He’ll join in with you and you two will be terrible

but you can be terrible together and that’s all that matters

Cartoon theme songs are your favorite thing to sing along to together

Singing together only happens together alone at home because the neverending teasing from Seven is not worth it

Jaehee:

It happened again when you convinced her to watch High School Musical again with you (despite her protests of it being trash compared to Zen’s musicals)

And you just couldn’t hold it in, you just had to bop to the top

Your voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard especially with all those high notes

But does Jaehee ever say anything about it?

Nope

She’ll stare at you with adoring eyes while turning up the tv volume to block out your pterodactyl screeching

Baehee will let you have your fun but that doesn’t mean she should suffer

Zen:

As a professional singer, Zen can’t help but cringe a tiny bit because he knows that singing improperly can be damaging to your vocal chords

He’s not hating on your voice at all, he just doesn’t want you to hurt yourself!

Zen would never tell you to stop though, if anything, he’d encourage you to sing along with him

Your little singing quirk is something that just makes you more cute in a way

If you ever did want to learn how to actually sing, he’s all open to the idea

He loves it when he can hear you in another part of the house singling along to your favorite Disney songs or Kpop songs

Nobody will ever be allowed to make fun of your singing because you are ###perfect in his eyes

Jumin:

Jumin is a blunt man

So he kinda just

“MC would you like a vocal coach to teach you how to sing properly?”

“No no I just do this for fun, Jumin, put down that phone I don’t want freaking Beyonce to be my coach sTOP.”

At first he’s kinda confused on why you always reject his offers to hire a coach, but once you compared it to how he liked taking pictures despite the blurriness, he understood

Nonetheless, he thinks your passionate singing is rather amusing

The only time it’s a bother is when he’s trying to work and you’re singing to blasting radio music in the next room but that’s okay because he’ll eventually have soundproof walls installed

And they’ll block out more than just your singing ;))

707:

sAME

You two are the worst during RFA get-togethers because Saeyoung will whip out the karaoke machine and make everyone’s ears bleed

The surrounding people on the road also hate you two because Saeyoung has a lot of convertibles and you both will just scream sing out into the open

Spontaneous duets around the house? 

Hell yeah

 Saeran telling you guys to shut the fuck up?

Oh yeah

His favorites to sing along horribly to are anime openings because he sings in such an over-exaggerated tone

He also serenades you with awful love songs (while in his maid outfit)

V:

This pure and holy man thinks everything about you is beautiful

And your god awful singing voice is included 

Why is it beautiful to him? Because he loves you and he loves that you're expressing yourself and that’s all it takes to make him happy 

Your uneven singing voice sounds like a beautiful melody to him, even though it may actually sound like fish dying

Though his dwindling eyesight, he atleast still has his hearing so he’s going to enjoy your voice as much as possible

No one in the RFA will dare to mock you since you and V are such sweet people

If he ever catches Seven teasing you, that boy is in for a scolding, something V doesn’t do often to him

[pigeonacademic]

babyfairy here again. just wanted to say i dislike all of the songs in your ratty ass playlist. this is the kind of playlist a school shooter listens to before going in for the kill. ps. you're still ugly as fuck. suck my black ass

@diaroon @saiyanhero

At least I have a playlist! What does your blog have? Eh, nothing except a loli girl theme with a Mew gif. Mew would be ashamed to be associated with you!

Also, I don’t know about you but its not a school shooter playlist. In fact, YOU seem the type to shoot up a school, angry little kid who’s soooo easily offended and CLAIMS that everyone who isn’t black/doesn’t agree with you is racist and you DID advocate for the death of white people in some of your posts. (old ones, but you still hold that mindset.) Seems to me that you’d pick up a gun and shoot up the nearest school just for having white kids. I mean, if you’re willing to go through all this bullshit to continue harassing me, what else are you capable of?As for the songs there, let’s take a looksy:

-Your Heart Will Lead You Home, by Kenny Loggins.

Wow..so a song about missing your friends and how they’ll still be there for you is a school shooter song? I mean you don’t have any friends, so of course you’d think it’s evil because nobody wants to be friends with a racist hypocrite.

-Not One Of Us, from the Lion King 2

Haven’t you seen any of the Lion King movies? They’re sort of a big thing? Come on don’t tell me you hate Disney, lol. How is a bunch of animals singing about someone who betrayed them a school shooter song? I mean, it sort of applies to you seeing as you’re deceptive, disgraceful, shameful and pure evil. People want you to leave them alone, and nobody wants you to come back here because of that. The only difference between you and and the lion they were singing about, at least he made an effort to right his wrongs.

-River Flows In You

Only you would thing a piano song is a school shooting song. Is it because YOU fantasize about shooting up a white school with pretty music playing? Gee whiz girl, get your shit together.

-My Metal Boy

Oh look, another song you think is evil because you never had anyone who cared about you, so you automatically hate it. Only you would hate a song about a loving parent taking care of their child. Then again it’s no surprise. Either you were summoned or hatched.

-Holding Out For A Hero

Can you reach any further??

-Mohombi Maraca

Don’t break your back with that reach, holy shit. 

-Perfect Two

Aw, another song you hate because nobody loves a racist hypocrite :) Stop being racist and a hypocrite and you might find a guy or girl who won’t run away from you. 

-Fallen in Love

Are you seeing a pattern here, because I am! Jealous bitch is jealous because nobody loves her because of her ratty ass attitude, so now she thinks everything is school-shooter songs and evil because it doesn’t apply to her. Pathetic. 

-You’re so True

Seriously? I mean, my playlist is something a normal person would have and yet you would associate it with killing. Why?? Are you that deranged?? You think everything that isn’t Beyonce is evil?? (For the record she IS a Beyonce fan)

-Let me Out

Taken from a werewolf movie, because I liked it. Turns out the girl who THOUGHT she was prettier than the other and got jealous that the main character had a boyfriend was the werewolf. 

-House That Built Me, by Miranda Lambert

A song about homesickness, and you associate something with FEELINGS with murder. You foul reptilian.

-This is WarI don't see how this is a school shooter song, its about war, sure, but nothing about this is school-shooter. Did you even listen to any of these songs?

-In Noctem

So you hate sleepy chorus music, good to know. I bet you hate Harry Potter too.

-MountainsThis makes me think of afternoon sunlight filtering through a hiking trail as a group of friends walk down it, talking with each other and enjoying each other's company and taking pictures of nature. Something you can't relate to.

-Memories, by TiNoXBeatzSo, this is the music I use to write sad scenes for my stories and poems, since I associate this with one of the sadder moments in my life, and it's very peaceful.

-I'm still HereTreasure Planet, song about a boy who's dad walks out on him and his mom and he is sick of other people telling him what to be even though they never change.

-Double TroubleHarry Potter song that I think I heard or read somewhere else in terms of the lyrics.

-The Mechanical GirlTell me how a story/song about a king who orders a tinker and his creation to his castle, decides he wants to marry the robot, throw the tinker out, marry the robot who turns into a war machine to be able to escape and go back to her creator bad?

-Santa Monica dreamWhenever I hear of this, I think of my family back home and the things we used to together, like at Nanny's house we'd go outside and play football, go see the animals, catch up on relatives who visit from so far away, practically half the family shows up to see her every time because she lives a-ways away from everyone else.

-Back on TrackThis is my drawing inspiration music, lol, and also the exercise music for the hamster.

-Stereo MadnessAlso drawing inspiration music.

-Monsters by Mark ProvartTaken from one of my favorite scenes in the Scooby Doo 2 movie

-Piper's Dancing musicI don't remember the original title of it, but this music is peaceful at first, then it gets to where you can dance to it! I used to dance to this back at our old house, and my grandparents love it.

-Spirit of the HawkThis was a song I found back in tenth grade that I liked, and I remember when playing it on the Chromebook while waiting for the bus, this group starts dancing to it, and it's how I met one of my friends, so even though I don't like it as much now, it reminds me of when I met him.

-Mad WorldI like the guy who sings this, his voice is soothing even if the song is sad.

-Boats and BirdsThis one means a lot to me, because the singer sounds like my mother. I don't get to see my mom as much anymore, and when I was younger she used to sing to me all the time and I really miss that. We used to live in the country, just me and her while Dad was off driving cross-country to make deliveries for the company he worked at, and we spent our summer at this one beautiful house outside in the backyard or on the porch, and as I'd paint or play with one of the cats, she'd sing. She also sang whenever I was having trouble sleeping, so whenever I can't sleep, I put this on to help.

-Get off of my BackThis is my song that gets me going, ESPECIALLY when dealing with people like you. So take the song's advice and get off of my back.

-Rosemary's BabyIt's from a horror movie, one that I am pretty sure explains your origins. I actually like Rosemary's singing, since its soothing.

-Battle in the SkiesI'm into steampunk and dieselpunk, and it is also drawing and writing inspiration music.

-Faceoff theme (the show, not the movie)I feel like more of a model when I have this playing while I try on clothing, and it gets me feeling determined, not to mention it helps when sketching out character designs.

-Great SpainThis song is something you can really dance to and the voices sound really pleasant even if I don't understand what they're saying. Alice likes this music too!

-Great JapanI like the vocals and the instrumentals, and I use this as workout music.

-Hellsing music box themeI don't like this as much as I used to, but I really like music boxes so its why I keep it until I can find something better to replace the theme with.

-PanzerkampfSabaton has some of the best history related songs. It gets the heart thumping when you have it loud, and I have a fond memory of this: at school, we had Chromebooks that shut off music that you're playing but they resume it as soon as you open it again. I didn't know this before I opened it and the music BLARED through the classroom. I found another Sabaton fan that way! (Also, my history teacher got introduced to the music and he plays it in his classrooms for other students during free time.)

-What I nap toHocus Pocus was a good movie, then I found this version of it that I find soothing.

-Circle BackwardsThis song makes me feel better whenever I think about home and the schools I left. After I listen to it I feel a lot better.

-Revamped MozartI like remixes of classical songs, and its really fitting for our pets when they get to play with each other. Scratch hops around on the cats, Suzie jumps everywhere, Alice leaps onto things to escape Scratch, Randal runs, Baby swats at Suzie and Oreo just plays in her cage. If I ever video their antics I am putting this as the background music.

-Short HairIts from that one scene in Mulan where she disguises herself as a man. This song conveys so much emotion for that scene, and not a word had to be spoken.

-Airship PiratesUsed as writing inspiration, and I think its pretty good for an Abney Park song. Listening to it right before I make a trip to the library makes me feel like I'm on a mission.

-I need some sleepThis song is self explanatory, aka my Insomnia Song.

-Europa GlobusHoly fucking shit if you don't own a pair of earbuds get some right now and plug it in to listen to this on full volume and make sure you're sitting down because this is one of the fucking best songs and it gives you chills and I swear you can see every battle and event flash right before your eyes like some epic movie and it makes you tremble and shiver its like a brain massage and the best part is if you're not very imaginative there's a youtube video that simulates it and also this is good workout music and I use it when exercising and I'm sure your history teacher will fucking love this

-Burn it DownSong about guys who enact revenge on a boss because of unfair working conditions, but they kill everyone instead because they didn't think to check the building's layouts first.

-Big green tractorThis brings back memories of one of the houses we used to live at, and this song came out around the time I went to my first school dance where they played this. My date and I had a lot of fun dancing, and the sore feet later was so worth it.

-I love to laughThis song also cheers me up and come on how can you listen to this and NOT smile? Maybe if you're a souless reptilian person, but if the lyrics don't get you then the laughter will!

-Benny Hills themeWhen I'm bored I put this on and watch random youtube videos, and for most of the prank fails or parkour fails it automatically makes them funnier. Reading your comments with this playing makes it much more funnier too!

-Touch the skyI really like Brave and this is also writing inspiration

-I love rock and rollIn one of my stories, an important scene takes place at this club that plays a lot of rock and roll, and currently I am at the part where the guy drags his really mousy friend to her crush so she can talk to her. This music helps me envision what the club is like.

-Accidentally in loveFond memories of this song, it cheers me up, puts me in the mood to draw and write romantic things and this is what plays in my head whenever I think about one of my Hellsing pairings.

-Jeeper Creeper's whistleNot really a song, but I use it anyways because I can

-Lone DiggerOh man I LOVE this one! This is the song that got me into electro swing, and the video that goes with it is a little strange, kind of like if Zootopia was geared towards an adult crowd. Stripper Gazelle and bloody fight aside, this song is good. I was dancing to this a few months ago, then I cracked my ankle on the organ chair.

-Tia's Monster remixDrawing inspiration and this is going to be a part of a animation I want to do

-If you're gonna play in TexasSong that my dad used to play whenever he took me somewhere. Emotional attachement, you know?

-Pumped up kicksThe only song about a school shooting, I didn't even realize it was until after I just googled it to see who wrote it.

One song out of how many is 'school shooter' songs?? Did you even listen to all of the songs, or did you just skip through until you found Pumped up kicks?

By the way I am pretty as fuck, 

and no, if you want your ass sucked then go pay one of your friends to do it. Funny how you keep saying you're black even though you're mixed and white passing and yet you demonize other people for daring to claim their ethnic halves just because they are white passing. It's hypocrisy, but then again babyfairy, that's nothing new with you.

[itbcharlie-blog]

I’ve always had mixed feelings about the idea of “coming out,” especially when I was younger. For me, the concept alone was rather weird and unnecessary. Never in my life have I heard or seen somebody come out as straight. I’m sure some of you rolled your eyes or even scoffed at my equivalency, but you know that I’m right. People don’t come out as straight because being straight is the status quo. If everyone is presumably straight, then coming out would be redundant. Coming out as gay automatically makes you the “other” in every definition of the word. As a kid, I always associated being gay with something bad because of how television and how adults depicted us.

I didn’t quite understand the power behind coming out until I was a little bit older. For a long time, I honestly thought that coming out is a personal decision, a personal conversation, and a personal experience. If you’re gay, I love you and I’m here for you, but there’s no need to broadcast it to the world. Or, at least I thought. I didn’t necessarily want people to hide being gay. Or maybe subconsciously I did. It’s hard to know for sure. What I do know is that coming out can be the most transformative and liberating moments in your life. Coming out shows the world that in spite of the obstacles purposely placed in our way, we don’t give a fuck.

Coming out is the fuck you story of our lives. 

Sure, coming out is liberating and it can be very fulfilling. However, it does not mean all of our stories are good. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the horror stories are true. Children are disowned by their families, kicked out, and shunned by their friends because they are gay.  Only because they are gay. It happens all the time. More than you know. More than I care to share, actually. It is those kids who I consider brave.

I get a little annoyed when the media call celebrities brave for coming out. That isn’t brave. Just like it isn’t “woke” just because Becky likes Beyonce and listens to Kendrick Lamar. Sure, it takes confidence to admit something like that when your career is on the line. However, if gay youth had to choose between coming out confused, broke, and alone or in front of the media with all of your fans’ love and support, I guarantee you we’d take our chances with the media.

People like Aaron Carter and ILoveMakonnen and Tyler the Creator have hundreds of thousands of fans willing to support their every bad decision. For them, coming out is a stepping stone. They aren’t brave.

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Brave is a word I reserve for the gay and queer youth around the world who come out as kids and endure their suffering alone. Brave is a word I associate with gay and queer youth who are pushed out of the closet by one of their loved ones, forcing them to defend an identity they are unsure of. Brave describes teenagers who are kicked out the house by their parents and are forced to find refuge with a friend or shelter or stranger.

That is brave.

Although the LGBT community is vastly diverse in every facet, the one thing that binds us together are our coming out experiences. Some are better than others but at the end of the day, we survived to retell our tale. Each story serves as a motivational piece. I didn’t realize the impact the stories would have on me when I began this project. I hope it encourages people to try and understand more and judge less.

These are our stories.

1. Dr. Strange

I came out at the age of 29

I knew I was interested in men since I was like 4 or 5, but I knew I was gay at 24.

The thing that preventing me from coming out was my fear of rejection, the loss of my family, and the shame and/or embarrassment for my mother.  

My “coming out” experience wasn’t as weird as I thought it would be. My family is very religious and just country ignorant when it comes to sexuality. “A man isn’t a man if he is having sex with another man”, “stop being a sissy”, “boys don’t do that” … Those were phrases I frequently heard growing up in small town Southern America.  I knew I had more than a friendship feelings towards certain boys in my neighborhood or some of my male cousin but I knew they were bad so I kept to myself. One day I told my sister.

I was five years old and I told my sister I liked a boy that was in her class (she was in the 5th grade). She called my two brothers in and my mom and told them and laughed at me and said, “You Gay” and they all made a joke out of it. From that point on, I knew I could never share who I was to them. So fast forward to my senior year in college. I was 22 years old and it was my first real male-to-male sexual experience. Surprisingly, it didn’t feel weird, bad or awkward. In fact, in felt natural. More natural than when I had sex with girls. At that point, I knew I was gay and there was no turning back. But, how would I tell my family?

I figured I’d never my family. My bedroom business was my business. One day, though, my brother was using my phone to send a text to his girl. In the process, he also read my texts. At first, he didn’t say anything to me but when I got home he inboxes me on FB. He told me to, “keep that gay shit to yourself, no one EVER wants to know about it.” My brother didn’t speak to me again for a year.

The following year he irrupted in anger at my siblings and I and “outed” me in the process. My sister and other brothers just looked at me. My brother shook his head and said, “It is what it is.” My sister looking at me with tears in her eyes and said, “I love you and you are a better man than him.” So, they in tell told my mother and my mother told my father. My mother called me and said that I was the best thing God could’ve given her and a great man. Afterwards, my family never discussed it again.

From time to time they will acknowledge my sexual preference in a subject or joke and that how they deal. But they always say they like for me to be happy. My family is supportive in their own way to reassure me that they want me to be happy.

I respect where they are in the process. 

  2. Storm

I came to the realization that I was attracted to other girls over boys when I was about 8 years old. I remember feeling so against the social stigma that existed for women and what they should be in the eyes of the world. Coming “out of the closet” was not by choice. At the age of 13, my parents went looking through my things, only to discover notes, some intimate and some not, between my girlfriend and I.

I grew up ashamed. In a Pentecostal Christian home, homosexuality was synonymous with Abomination to my parents. This situation eventually led to my girlfriend, at the time, and I both being kicked out of the church choir. To top it off, I was also forced to go to gay conversion therapy with the pastor of the church.  Because of the shame, I still continued to deny it and chose to try to be “straight”. Finally, in 10th grade, I came out to everyone in school and I experienced nothing but acceptance and love from my friends. Unfortunately, it would take years for my parents to come around and still until this day, I am not quite sure that they actually accept me

Sometimes it feels they’d rather just deal with me because they have no choice. If I had been given the confidence to feel okay with myself, or just had even one ally in LGBT community around me when I was growing up, I may have felt differently and been honest with myself sooner.

The people who I had by my side to help me cope were my very best friends, my aunt, and the one who surprised me the most, my grandmother. Not once did she judge me or make me feel any sort of shame and because of her, I found confidence in who I was and stood strong. The one piece of advice I would give to my younger self is, always stand in your truth, no matter what anyone says about you, don’t worry. There is nothing wrong with you. God made you just the way you are, and the devil had nothing to do with it:) LOL

Thank you for letting me share a small part of me. I tried to be as brief as I can and get straight to the point (no pun intended).  I never really had to put it down on paper or into words.

CHECK BACK NEXT WEEK FOR COMING OUT BRAVE: VOLUME 2.

    Coming Out Brave: Vol. 1 I've always had mixed feelings about the idea of "coming out," especially when I was younger. For me, the concept alone was rather weird and unnecessary.