#then in middle school i made a bunch of friends who went to the same church and suddenly it was so fun

[steviescrystals]

my tags on the post i just reblogged got me thinking so here’s my current stream of consciousness

[wcters]

𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗡𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗥 𝗜𝗡 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

word count: 2k+

summary: your relationship with lando through the teenage years

warnings: pda, established relationship, mostly fluff, some angst | i know lando moved to glastonbury later in his life but 🤫 i also wrote this in 2 hours instead of doing because i got excited and had an idea

     You and Lando had first met when you were teenagers. Him being a lanky teenage boy with puffy cheeks and curly hair, and you being a young girl with frizzy hair and a youthful look in your eyes. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone when you first started dating, it’s like you both were on the same wavelength.

You still remember the day you met him ━━ how could you not? You two went to the same school so you knew who each other was, and you had heard of him from people around the town talking about his karting career. Your parents were family friends with the Norris’s, and they never failed to talk about how proud they were of their children.

It was the start of school after the 2013 summer break. You had quite a small friend group in school so when you had classes with no one you were friends with, you tended to be quiet and focus on your school work. That resulted in you being forced to sit next to the rowdy kids. Why? You didn’t know. It’s not like it changed them, and it just bothered you. It was one of those times, and it was Lando who was put next to you. Him and his friend group tended to be the disruptive bunch. They weren’t bad people or bad at school, just got a little too loud at times and forgot to pay attention.

You were sat in the middle row of your math class. The seat next to you was empty at the start of class, but at the end it wasn’t. Lando and his friends got a little too loud and he was “punished” by being put next to you so he couldn’t talk with his friends. You looked at him when he made his way over, but that was it. He was cute ━━ you could admit it. And it didn’t hurt that someone cute was being put next to you, but you shook your feelings off and forced yourself to focus. At them end of class when you were grabbing your things, a hand poked your shoulder. You turned around and came face-to-face with the Norris boy. He looked a little nervous, fidgety and a small smile on his face. You tilted your head. “Hey ━━ I uh ━━ didn’t have enough time to finish some of the notes. Do you mind if I borrow some of yours?”

You were a little surprised, you didn’t think he cared that much about school. Most kids wouldn’t bother getting down a little bit you missed ━━ not even you ━━ but he did. You smiled and nodded. “Sure,” you told him as you grabbed the paper out of your binder and gave it to him, “just return it once you’re done?” He nodded. The next day in class, he walked over to you and gave the paper pack, and you figured he would go back to his friends because the seat want permanent, but he didn’t. He put his bag on the ground and sat in the seat next to you. He did that, every day, for the rest of the year.

You two got to know each other well. You learned more about his competitive karting career and his family, while you told him about your family and friends. Nothing ever happened between you two, you were just friends. You had a crush on him, but you convinced yourself it was your mind tricking you because it was your first friend that was a boy. He thought the same, but he didn’t not believe his, he just didn’t act on it.

It was summer break, a year after you met him, when you realized you did like him. You were chatting with your grandma at her house as you were helping her sting stuff around the house. She had asked about your school semesters and how it was. You rambled on and on, not realizing that you mostly takes about Lando. It wasn’t until you were putting one of the last boxes down for her that it finally hit. “You must really like that boy, no?” You looked at her weird. “All you did was talk about him. You must like him.” It was when she said that that you had a moment of realization. After you finished helping her you went home to your mom and talked to her, confused on how to deal with this newfound information. She just laughed and gave you a hug, telling you that almost every teenage girl goes through this with someone in their life. That made you feel a bit better.

Your friendship turned into something more a couple weeks after that. The Norris family had invited your family to come watch one of Lando’s races at Buckmore Park. Your parents agreed as they wanted to catch up . . . You agreed because you wanted to see Lando. He did well, coming 5th place. You could tell he wasn’t happy about, but you were. You and your family met up with him at the end of the race. He wasn’t looking too happy, but when he saw you his face lit up. When you congratulated him he blushed. Your families talked for a bit ━━ mostly about how summer break was going ━━ and you were about to leave when Lando called out your name.

Your family continued to leave, saying they would meet up with you at the car with your mom winking at you. You blushed. At first there was some awkward silence, and then he asked “would you like to go on a date?” You were a bit shocked, not expecting it, and you were nervous. What did people do on dates anyway? You know adults went out to eat and drink but you were fifteen! You completely forgot that you had to answer his question, and he started sputtering out words saying that you didn’t have to, and he was sorry before you interrupted him with a “yes.” It was his turn to look surprise.

You went on a date the next week, both of you unknowingly doing the same thing and panicking to your parents beforehand. It went fine, a bit awkward ━━ obviously ━━ but you thought it was cute. You went out for icecream and walked around Bristol. Halfway through the date he slipped his hand into yours, and you accepted it, but didn’t dare to look him in the eye.

After that, you two were inseparable. You two were always together, and practically lived at each others houses. Sometimes ━━ for weeks on end ━━ your parents never saw you a lot because you were always at Lando’s house. His parents always updated yours on how you were, and they trusted you. During an interview for Drive to Survive, your parents swore during those times they only saw you in the morning and night, the rest of the time you were with Lando. This would switch between you staying at his and him staying at yours.

Though Lando wouldn’t admit it when he was a teenager, he would do anything for you. If you asked him to jump off a bridge, he wouldn’t even ask why, he’s just do it. There are so many pictures on your phone and Polaroids of him in “embarrassing” situations ━━ like one where he had a face mask on and his nails painted. You keep that one in the back of your phone case. He would let you braid his hair, practice makeup on him, help him with his skincare, and so many other things. This would always be in the secrecy of your room and when your families weren’t there because he dreaded the day his family saw him like that.

He had no idea that you had shown his sisters and parents almost every single one. They promised to keep it quiet, and they did. You also know they won’t tell him that they have some of those pictures on their phones. It’s a secret between you and them, a need to know thing.

Whenever you had sleepovers at his house, you would stay with his sisters because you weren’t allowed to be with him ━━ for good reason ━━ and because you loved his sisters. As you got older, you bonded more with them, helping them out with boy problems and girl problems, because everyone had those girls in high school who made your life a living hell. You broke down crying when you found out they were moving to Glastonbury. How would you survive without not being able to hug your boyfriend? How would you cope without the gossip sessions with his sisters? The talks about your life over helping Cisca with dinner and talking politics with Adam? Laughing at embarrassing moments of Lando with his brother?

Before that, you had put off getting your license. You walked or took buses to most places, and it saved you money. When you found out they were moving though, you made it your life’s mission it get your license and a car. You were on moving day, helping the family with setting things up and cleaning up the place. You still remember the dinner you had that night. It wasn’t fancy, just Chinese takeout on a table in the half put together living room, but it was one of the moments where you truly felt like family. It wasn’t that you hadn’t before, but it was the private ness of the situation that really hit your heart. You begged to stay over, not caring that it was a school night, but you couldn’t. You hugged everyone goodbye with teary eyes, kissing Lando, and promising to be back soon.

And you were. When you had that car, you spent an unbelievable amount of money on gas. You drove to his house almost every weekend. Sometimes he would come over to your house, but it was mostly you going over there out of convenience. If Lando wanted to go to yours, he’d probably have to pile all of his siblings in the car, while you didn’t have to do that. Besides driving to Glastonbury, your car was also used as a pick me up. Whenever something happened with his sisters, you’d be there in a heartbeat, telling them to get in ━━ telling Lando he can’t come with him grumbling something under his breath ━━ and you’d go and grab food. Whatever they needed, you were there ready to do it? Boy problems? Junk food and a sad playlist. School problems? Listening to them vent and giving them advice. Period problems? That depended on that they wanted. You even remember one time on March break Flo had an experience with a boy and you took her to a rage room . . . It was so fun, and you definitely did it again with Cisca.

While you were there for all the important events in Lando’s life, he was the same. He was there when your grandma died, and you swore he was one of the few things that kept you together. He was there when you graduated high school and got accepted into your dream school.

Your relationship stayed the same throughout his whole career, you to where you both were now, living in Monaco. You still acted like teenagers, jokingly fighting over little things and teasing each other. Your love baver wavered, it stayed the same for each other, maybe even became stronger. There were periods in your relationship like when he first started in Formula One and you moved to college that it was tricky, but you go through it. You always would.

As you sat on the sofa in your home and twirled the ring on your finger, you remembered the whole of your relationship and the future of it. You were broken out of your trance by a kiss on your head. You hummed, not turning to look at him. “She’s gone to bed. She’s been changed and given her bottle. You smiled and looked up at him, “thank you.” He kissed you on your lips, “of course. You ready to go to bed, Mrs. Norris?” You chuckled and got up, walking around to the couch to meet him in his arms.

“Always, Mr. Norris, always.”

[freakyformula]

Stockholm Syndrome

Summary: Mafia Max kidnaps the reader and tries to win her over.

A/N: Might make a part two... Maybe.

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, swear words, mentions of injuries, oral (both receiving), creampie, light spanking....

Word count: 7,7k

The sound of music and glasses clunking filled your ears as you sat with your friend on the balcony of the most extravagant nightclub the city could offer. The menu was filled with ridiculously expensive drinks and appetizers.

You didn't live here, but your best friend Emma did. You two had known each other since you were in kindergarten and spent every day together in school. When you got a little older though, life got in the way and you got separated by university and work. This didn't stop you two, you still spoke almost every day on the phone.

Emma had recently gotten promoted and decided to invite you over to her city to celebrate. Neither you nor Emma had any other friends, it was just you and her, always together.

You didn't really know why she'd decided on this club, but you had to admit, it was impressive with the expensive-looking ornaments and the huge crystal chandelier hanging in the middle of the industrial building.

As you looked around, all you could see was well-dressed men and women. You felt misplaced.

"I need a fag so bad." Emma declares and struts off, leaving you alone inside.

Sitting alone made you feel even more awkward and you could see the others looking down at you with what looked like pity in their eyes.

You sipped on your Spritz and looked down, embarrassed. You dressed modestly, wearing an off-shoulder midi dress in white, fitting you perfectly. Emma and you had been shopping for dresses for the occasion earlier that day. When you got ready a couple of hours earlier, you thought you looked okay, but right now, you couldn't feel more unattractive.

A bunch of men barges out from a room in the back, making the other guests quickly move out of their way. The men were dressed in all black and walk up to the bar, a couple of meters from you. You quickly turn around in the fancy leather sofa, not wanting to draw their attention. When you turn around, you notice a man exiting the same door from which the other males exited only a few seconds before. This man was unlike the others; he strolled in with gentle steps, whereas the others made their arrival sound like a swarm of hippos was approaching. And he looked so put together. That suit of his must be really expensive.

You catch yourself staring and quickly look away.

"Wanna dance?" You hear Emma yell from behind. You really weren't in the mood but you obey her wish. You follow her to the dance floor. You threw your hair and sang along to the song, making the other guests look at you in annoyance, but you couldn't care less in that moment. All you were here for was to celebrate your friend and her accomplishments.

As you walked up to your table again, you went by the bar and inspected the menu closely. You decide on a cocktail and place the order.

"This one is on me." You hear, the raspy sound coming from behind.

The bartender quickly starts working on your order as the man looks at him. You turn around and lock eyes with the man you saw before. He gazed down at you and gave you a sweet smile.

"Sorry, Max." He introduces himself and offers a handshake.

"Hi, I-I'm Y/N." You reply and shake his hand. His handshake was powerful, just like you thought it would be.

"Y/N. Beautiful name. Now tell me, Y/N, what lured a beauty like you to my club?"

You're shocked by his statement, which makes him chuckle, but still keep eye contact.

Is this man the owner? But he looks so young, surely he's lying, right?

"I… I'm here with my friend." You say and point to your friend who is half asleep on the leather sofa, clearly completely off her face.

"I see." Max turns to look at you again. His gaze is so intense, that it almost makes you uncomfortable.

You turn to look at the bartender, who is taking longer than usual to finish your drink. Max lingers by your side, making small talk with you and what you assumed were his friends until you got your drink. "It was nice meeting you, Y/N. Enjoy the rest of your night." Max smiles at you and you sip on your drink and give him a smile back. He was pleasant to be around and you felt a little lonely when he and the black-suited men followed him. You went back to your table only to realize that Emma has dozed off.

"Emma, wake up!" You yell at her. You try shaking her without luck. She was out and there was no way of waking her.

"Fuck, always drinking too much…" You mutter to yourself. Now what were you supposed to do? Before you could think further you started to feel drowsy. "The hell?" You ask yourself as you too drift off into a comfortable slumber.

The sound of men talking fills your ears as you're lulled out of your sleep. The bright light makes it hard to see and it takes a while for your eyes to adjust.

"Where am I?" You ask.

No answer. The satin pillows under your head aren't yours. And you didn't recognize the room either. You were too groggy to register anything about the room you were in, except that it was light. Wait, why were you in a hospital? You try to move your hands to rub your eyes but your hands are stopped. You look up at your hands, they're bruised by the handcuffs around your wrists.

"What the… actual.." You whisper to yourself. Now, panic starts to take over all of your senses and you spring up from the mattress to your knees.

"Help!" You yell.

The room felt sterile, and even if your sight was blurred you noticed the white tile walls and what looked like medical equipment in a couple of cabinets on the other side of the room.

Panic fully encompasses you and you place your legs against the wall to try to pull the metal off your hands. You've quickly used all of the remaining energy. Your eyes water up and you look around for something to help you escape. Everything you see to make you company in the room is the mattress, a couple of pillows and the cabinets.

You cry out and try to remember what exactly happened last night. Emma. Where was Emma? You think to yourself. You had to get out of here. As you're about to start struggling with the chain again you freeze, hearing footsteps and voices from outside of the door.

"Open the door." A familiar voice says, followed by the sound of keys clinging.

You have no idea what to do, so you just collapse on the mattress, pretending to be asleep.

As the door opens, you hear multiple footsteps approaching you.

"Good morning, beautiful." The voice whispers. "Get out before I kill you all." He says, barely audible, assumably to the others in the room. Before you can even register it, the room is empty, except for you and the man.

You feel someone rubbing your arm lightly.

"Ik weet dat je wakker bent." I know you're awake

You have no idea what the familiar voice just said, and just keep your eyes shut. The voice sighs and walks off. You hear a thump and you can only assume that the man has sat down on the floor.

You lie there, quiet, not daring to move an inch.

"You know, Y/N… As long as you treat me nicely, I will do the same to you." The voice speaks.

How does the voice know your name?

Slowly but surely, the happenings of last night come to mind.

The man you met at the nightclub. Max. Was he behind all of this?

You don't dare to look up to check if it's him you're sharing the room with, but the voice is similar.

You hear him moving on the floor, shuffling his way over to your mattress. When you feel his fingers on your hand you instinctively kick in his direction. The man is quick though, and dodges the kicks from you. As if by routine, he grabs your swinging legs. You let out a cry, and you two settle with him looking down at you lying on your back with your legs in his embrace.

"Max…. Where the fuck am I and where is Emma?" You look up at him with tears flowing on your cheeks as you tremble in fear.

"Shhhh, sweetheart, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."

"Then why the fuck am I here?!" You yell.

"You're simply here because I want you, and I couldn't risk you getting away last night."

You stare into his mellow eyes and try to process what he just said.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm Max Verstappen and I'm the head of the mafia around here." Your body tenses up when you hear him. Mafia? Max looked way too innocent to be a part of the mafia. This had to be some sort of sick joke.

"You're mad, you know that? Now, let me loose and we'll forget about all of this." You try to bargain.

"Oh no, that's not how this works, Y/N. You see, I can't just let you go, you belong to me now."

"Where is Emma?" You ask again.

"Your friend? She's safe."

He lets your legs go and starts pacing the room.

"Why me?" You ask in confusion.

"Because you tick all of my boxes. You're beautiful, you've got class, you're funny…"

"You don't know anything about me, creep." You mutter.

"Oh trust me Y/N, I know more about you than you probably realise."

You crawl into a ball, sobbing your heart out as Max looks at you.

"Let me help you, Y/N. I don't want to hurt you, but I also can't let you go.

His words enlighten a rage in you, a rage that you thought you weren't even capable of.

"I literally met you last night, motherfucker! Don't barge in here thinking you know me when you clearly know nothing." You yell at his face.

He looks completely deflated as he looks at you. He stares down at his shoes and seems to think about what to say next. "Clearly, this will take time." He finishes and walks out.

A couple of weeks pass, and you're moved to a new room, equipped with your own toilet, proper bed, kitchen table, and two armchairs. Max would visit you multiple times a day to get to know you, sometimes spending hours upon hours sitting in that stupid armchair of his, either trying to strike up a conversation with you or just sitting there in silence, keeping an eye on you. Either way, he seemed to enjoy himself.

You, on the other hand, either ignored him or argued back to anything he said. You weren't going to make this easy for him, that was for sure. How he kept his cool, was beyond you.

"Liefje, stop that." He sternly says as you hit the door, desperate to get out.

"You know there are at least 12 heavily armed men on the other side with strict orders not to let you out, right?"

You couldn't give less of a fuck, they might as well kill you.

When you're about to hit the door once more, you feel Max's hands on yours, hitting against the door one last time. He presses you against the metal door and keeps his hands on yours.

"You will do exactly as I say, will you not, hm?" Max asks.

"Kill me then! You might as well kill me if I'm going to be held here like a prisoner for the rest of my life!" You yell in his face.

Day after day, he'd come. Sometimes he'd bring you a bouquet of flowers, which you tossed in the trash immediately, sometimes he brought you something you'd requested, like a McDonald's cheeseburger or Lindt chocolate. You were grateful he actually cared enough to bring you those things. Some kidnappers surely wouldn't treat you with this much dignity, you resonated.

A couple of more weeks pass and Max starts to bring you gifts. Clothes he thought you'd look good in, jewellery he'd put his eyes on and needed to buy for you to wear, shoes he'd take off your feet at some point.

He convinced you to eat dinner at the same time as him. Usually you'd wait for him to finish his meal in order to avoid having to face him. To you, it would equal defeat and you were adamant on making his life a living hell.

"So, could this be concidered a first date?" He smiles at you.

"In your dreams, Verstappen."

His whole body shuddered as he heard you use his last name.

You sitting at the same table as him was progress. In the beginning, you wouldn't even look his way.

"So, when are you letting me free?" You ask with a stern tone.

"When I know you won't run away."

"So in theory, never?"

"If that's what you want." He shrugs as his eyes darken. "I will always find you if you run away. Always."

A couple of days pass and Max once again walks into the room. He'd visited you in the morning, accidentally waking you up. Now though, he was ready for dinner.

"My cook made us dinner." He says as he takes off his coat and approaches you sitting at the table, completing a puzzle he'd bought for you; you were pleasantly pleased when he stepped in with it, you'd mentioned that you enjoy crocheting, reading and solving puzzles at some point, and he'd picked up on that.

"Hmmmm… I'm not hungry." You say.

"I know you're hungry Y/N. My men told me that you didn't eat breakfast."

And he was right, you were starving.

"Ugh… Hate you." You mutter to yourself.

"You don't mean that." Max whispers, reassuring himself.

You move over so you sit opposite the handsome man. You gladly eat the food the cook made, you have to admit that the food they made was delicious.

Max looks at you fondly while you eat until you look up at him.

"What?!" You ask, irritation evident in your voice.

"Just admiring my girl."

"You slam down your fork into the table, leaving four small dents in the wood.

"Your girl? I'm not your girl Max. You kidnapped me! I'm not here of my own free will."

He smirks at you. "Just give me some time and I'll change that."

"Do you promise to be a good girl?" He asks of you as he ties the blindfold around your head.

"Yes, Max." You sigh.

Finally, he was moving you from the lonely room to his very own house.

He leads you into the car, making sure you're comfortable.

On the way, the guards, the same men you met that night, kept communicating with each other. You wondered how many men Max needed to feel safe.

"Don't worry about them, it's only a precaution to keep us safe. I've got important cargo on board." He chuckles as he grabs your hand and squeezes it reassuringly.

You huff, "Last time you call me cargo, imbecile."

When Max opens the door for you and removes the blindfold, you finally realise the extent of his wealth.

What he had defined as a house was a mansion in reality. And the garden… Surely, this is where he got those bouquets from. You also catched a glimpse of the padel course and the swimming pool close by.

All of the guards welcomed you respectfully. It was weird seeing all of them like this, months after your first encounter at the club.

"Y/N, these are your personal guards, Daniel, Lando, and Charles. They will keep you safe at all times." Max states.

The men don't dare to look at you, afraid of Max's reaction. They simply just nod.

Living with a mafia boss had it's perks and drawbacks. He'd bring you flowers from his garden daily, and gifted you something ridiculously expensive weekly meaning your new wardrobe started to fill up with new expensive clothes and jewellery. Max didn't trust you enough to be alone outside the house, so you were still followed by at least one of the guards.

You tried your hardest to be nice to them, it wasn't their fault that you were in this unfortunate situation. They were clearly uncomfortable being your guards, not wanting to look your way, touch you or talk to you, afraid of their fate if they angered their boss. You were thankful though, they helped you with things you needed help with and stayed out of your way when you needed them to.

You had to admit, you lived a comfortable life. You'd spend your day either by the pool or comfortably inside the large, luxurious house. You wouldn't have to lift a finger again with Max as your man. The problem was, you were itching to get out into the world again. You had no contact with the outside world. You missed your parents and siblings at home. You missed Emma. Hell, you even missed work.

One day, after dinner, Max walks up to you with a box.

"Open it." Max encourages you.

"Not another gift, Max. I've told you, I don't want any!" You complain.

"I promise, you will like this one."

You sigh and study the neat black box with a black ribbon on top.

And Max is right, you love the gift. He had gifted you a phone, how generous of him. Finally, you had a way to keep in contact with the world. You had one contact. Emma. You immediately dial her and wait for her to pick up.

"Hello, who is this?" You hear your dear friend ask.

You instantly burst out crying when you hear her voice.

"It's Y/N! I'm so glad to hear your voice!"

"Y/N?! What the fuck, where are you, are you okay? I reported you missing months ago! Honestly, the police, your parents, and I started to lose hope of finding you." You hear her sobbing too.

"I'm okay, I've been forbidden to tell you where I am but I'm fine. Please send my parents my regards."

You continue talking for the rest of the evening. Max leaves you to it, trusting you enough not to tell your friend about your whereabouts. Max permitted you to call Emma once per week, and your calls was all you looked forward to. Hearing Emmas voice was soothing and felt like home.

"Y/N, I'm going mad, where are you? I want to meet up." Emma asks after a couple of weeks.

You look up at Max and Lando, both of them standing in front of you, hearing her question as she's on speaker.

"Uhhh, I'm afraid I can't tell you, Emma, but I hope we can meet up soon." You nod at the men and they nod approvingly back. Not being able to tell your best friend hurt more than it should have. That night you spend sobbing your heart out into one of your goose down pillows in your bed, cursing Max out as he pats your head.

"Fuck you, Max!" You curse.

"Shhhh…. It will get easier. And if you behave and act like a good girl for me, I'll let you meet Emma." Max tries to soothe you.

The day after, you tried calling your parents when Max didn't see or hear, but the call didn't come through. Surely, Max had a function on it, meaning the only person you could call was Emma. Max found out that you'd disobeyed him by calling your parents and took your phone away, enraging you even more. You soon realised that the only way you'd get out of this was by obeying Max's rules.

You were peacefully eating breakfast when Max and a couple of his men followed him into the kitchen.

He sneakily appears behind you and steals a piece of your toast as you're about to have a bite.

"Heyy!! Thief!" You yell.

Max and his men let out a giggle at your annoyed expression.

"I'll be home at 7 pm, okay?" Max asks.

"Yeah." You shrug at him. He gives you a small smile and turns around.

You spend the day at the pool, reading a book Max gifted you. Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov. Why he chose that book, you didn't know. Daniel and Charles spend their day near you, standing guard. Luckily they don't have to be by themselves and you can hear them laughing now and again.

You craved a friend like that too. In a way Max was unfair, he let his men talk to each other and have friendships but letting you meet Emma was out of the question.

You figured you'd freshen up before Max got home, and walked inside. The men didn't follow for once, seemingly deep in a conversation.

That meant that you could discover the mansion by yourself. The men had stopped you from exploring the whole building for some reason. Mindlessly, you strolled around the house, checking the doors. Weirdly, all of them were locked. Bored, you walk back to your room. On the way, you walk past Max's room. Curiosity overwhelms you and you check the door, and it's open. You hear the floor creak as you walk on it. You try to walk even lighter as you find your way further into the room. The floor was painted in a dark wooden accent and the ceiling was filled with paintings of angels, lambs and plump clouds. You turn to the fireplace with a huge painting of a man above it. The man looked like an older version of Max, surely it had to be either his father or grandfather.

All of a sudden, the lights come on, and you see Max standing in the doorway.

"Sneaking around, are we?"

"No, no, it wasn't like that!" You try to explain, as Max walks closer to you.

"Shhhh…" He shushes, "This is the perfect opportunity to show you our bedroom. This is where you'll be sleeping for the rest of your life when you decide to move in."

"I like it?" You say, insure about the dark red tones and tassels spread around the room.

Max takes notice of your facial expression. "I'll have it renovated for you, maybe that will encourage you to move in quicker?" Max asks. "I'm making no promises." You shake your head and give him a teasing smile.

Max creeps closer to you, not breaking eye contact. You've gotten used to the man and you don't back off when he walks closer to you. He grabs your arms, pulling you even closer. You feel the heat he radiates as your bodies touch. And that signature cologne he wears every day smells different at this proximity. Before things get too heated for your liking you pull away, which results in Max pulling you in again, making you yelp. He bends down and places a delicate kiss on your forehead. Then, finally, he lets you go.

You're so shocked, you don't even register that his hands aren't holding you in place, and you stand there for what feels like an eternity, staring into his ocean-blue eyes. Your breath is heavy, and so is his. Max returns his hands to you, but this time he doesn't hold you in place but rather supports you. His hands wander from your sides down to your hips.

Max lets out a small moan. "Feel so good. You're driving me crazy." His words are messing with your head. You know what he's trying to do and you refuse to fall for his gaslighting. But goddamn, his hands felt so good on you. His hands grow bolder and fall to your ass, giving it a little squeeze.

You break from his soft hold and glare at him.

"Too soon? Sorry, liefje."

A couple of weeks pass, and you're growing accustomed to Max and his life.

You and Emma talk almost daily at this point and you're starting to enjoy your surroundings, despite the lack of freedom. Well, lack of privacy to be exact, as Max has let you off his premises a couple of times to do some shopping. The guards were still following you wherever you went though.

Max would try to get closer to you, stealing light kisses on your forehead and cheeks.

"Good morning, sweetheart." Max smiles when he sees you walk into the kitchen. You grab the kettle, "Good morning… You sound like you're in a good mood."

"I am, I actually have some very exciting plans for us later." He says as he walks around the kitchen island and walks up behind you, turning you around.

"Here." He lends you his black card, "Take this and get yourself something nice for later."

"Max… What do you mean by "nice"? You ask.

"Something that will make people drop their jaws, I give you free hands."

And with that, he leaves for work. Lando, Daniel, and Charles are ordered to take care of you. They quickly nod and wait for you to get ready. Just to mess with them a little, you take your time eating breakfast, choosing your outfit, and applying makeup.

"Finally!" Lando exclaims, followed by a slight push by Charles. They lead you outside, walking close by in case you decide to run away. What they don't seem to realise is, you're in heels and you're not running anywhere with them on.

You walk around the mall all day in order to find something nice to wear for the evening. It was harder than you thought, especially since you had no idea of what Max's plans were.

You finally decide on a black maxi dress with a slightly exposed back. You walk out from the changing room and ask the men for opinions.

"Errrm, it's fine, I guess?" Charles answers, unsure of what to say.

"It looks awesome on you." Daniel corrects his co-worker, followed by an approving nod by Lando.

"What exactly are I and Max doing later?" You ask the trio of guards as you walk out of the shop with a couple of shopping bags in their hands.

"He told us not to tell." They simply state.

"Ugh." You roll your eyes at them, annoyed by their loyalty to their boss.

Your eyes land on a jewelry shop, and the most beautiful necklace you'd ever laid your eyes on. You turn your heel, making the men almost crash into you. They apologize profusely but you don't listen. "Good day, miss." The store clerk greets. "Searching for something in particular?"

You walk over to the grand necklace. "How much is this?"

"100." The salesperson states.

You look at them, confused. 100? Surely the necklace was worth more than that.

The clerk must've noticed your confusion because they cleared their throat and looked at the men behind you with a questioning look.

"100 000, miss."

The words came off their tongue like it was nothing. On the other hand, you could not believe what you'd just heard.

"….100 000?" You question. "Consider it sold." You say, smiling. The clerk turns and stares at you with big eyes. The trio behind you stare at you with even bigger eyes. Theoretically, you could get a house for the same price. You finish up the deal and walk away as a proud one hundred thousand necklace owner with the guards taking care not to walk into you again.

When you get home, it's already late and you need to start getting ready.

"When is Max coming home?" You ask Lando.

"Soon." He answers, leaving you alone in your room.

You take a quick shower to freshen up. You wrap a towel around your naked body and when you get out of the bathroom you're startled by Max, as he's lying on your bed scrolling on his phone languidly.

"What the fuck, Max? That's my bed!"

"Hello schatje, miss me? And actually, you're in my house, I can do whatever I want in here."

You groan, "Some privacy please?!"

Max gets up and gives you a quick kiss on your cheek, something you don't fight against.

"Wanted to see you, that was all." And with that, he exits your bedroom and closes the door.

You get ready for him in record time. When you come down the stairs, he's already waiting for you. The dress you wear fits you like a glove and you feel sexy. What finished your look off though, was the necklace, that you'd paired with some other jewelry to match.

Max meets up with you halfway and takes your hand, kissing it.

"When I said 'free hands', this is exactly what I had in mind, Y/N."

"Do you like it?" You ask, giving him a spin.

"I love it, I love you." He admits as he pulls you close and kisses you. This was unexpected and you should've refused but you just… couldn't. When he pulls away he studies you once again and huffs,

"So beautiful, mijn liefde."

"Ready?" He asks as he guides you out to his car.

"When are you going to tell me what we're doing?"

"I'm taking you to see my mother."

"You're taking me to meet your mother?! I thought you were taking me for dinner!"

"Well, technically I am, she's an excellent cook and she's making dinner for us."

You shake your head aggressively, not happy with the situation. Max keeps talking as if nothing happened on the remainder of the car ride. "Here we are." Max says happily as he turns onto the road leading to his childhood home. You see a lady waving on the stairs leading up to the large manor.

"Max, Y/N." She yells. "I'm so happy to finally meet you!"

"Mama!" Max runs to hug her.

He walks back to you to lead you up to his mother.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you." You try to be nice to the woman and give off a positive impression.

"Hello, I'm Sophie, Max's mother. He has told me so much about you."

You give him a questioning look as you walk in. They give you a tour of the large house, and you can't help wondering what both Max and his mother are doing with such large houses when they live alone, excluding the guards of course.

"I hope you're hungry, I've made dinner!" Sophie tells you with a wide smile.

Sophie is one of the best cooks indeed, and you eat with a good appetite, much to her delight.

Sophie spends the rest of the dinner sharing awkward stories about Max. He buries his face in his hands in order to escape his mother's story about how he shot himself in the foot when he was 11. "And then, he stole his father's gun and ran away… Not knowing it was loaded." She explains.

You enjoy their company, and you can tell that Max has inherited his nice manners from his mother.

"Will you excuse me and Y/N for a moment, I'd like to show her the rose garden?" Max asks his mother.

Sophie nods and you take off outside, it's getting late and chilly, so Max offers his suit jacket to you. As you slowly walk towards the garden, Max creeps closer, wrapping his arm around your back and landing his hand on your hip.

"Your mother is lovely, Max." You look up at him.

"I know, and she seems to love you too."

When you reach the garden, he stops you. "I brought you here because I wanted to ask you to be my one and only for the rest of my life." He asks as he leans in, stopping only a few centimeters from you.

"W-what are you implying, Max?" You ask nervously, looking him straight in the eyes.

"I'm asking you to be my beloved. I want to make you my wife, the mother of my children. I want to grow old with you, and die by your side."

His words makes your stomach flutter. You can't help yourself anymore, you crash into his mouth and he very eagerly kisses you back.

"Max…" You moan, out of breath. "I think I like you."

He sighs. "I love you, Y/N, and I intend to make you love me too, but I understand if it takes time."

As you walk back up to the manor, Sophie is already standing at the stairs.

"We better leave, it's getting late." Max looks at his armwatch.

After saying your goodbyes and getting into the car, Max drives homeward.

His hand is glued to your thigh the whole way, squeezing it.

You feel yourself getting wetter by the second, and you press your legs together. Max must have noticed this, because he pries your legs open with his hand. He quickly slides his hand up to your heat before you have the chance to close your legs again.

"Mijn god, you're so wet already. And I haven't even done anything yet." Max gasps as he moves your thong to the side and slides his finger along your slit.

"Max, please."

"So pretty, begging for me like this. Are you mine, huh? Are you?" He asks.

"Please, please. I'm yours."

Max groans and stops the car at the first bus stop he can find.

"Get in the back." He commands. Luckily he brought the SUV, because there was plenty of space for you and him in the backseat.

"Come here, beautiful." He pulls your dress up to your hips as you slowly straddle him, taking care to not rip your dress.

"Just like that…" He whispers. "Don't be scared, I'm not going to hurt you." You can hear your own heart beating, and Max probably noticed too.

"Can I touch you… Like this?" He asks as he kneads your buttocks. All of a sudden, he gives your left asscheek a slap, making you yelp.

"Ouch! What was that for?" You raise your eyebrow.

"For making me wait so long." He whispers, feeling his breath on your face.

You enjoy him massaging your ass but you have another place that desperately needs some attention. You try to grind down on him to get some friction but when you do, he grabs your hips to hold you still. You groan, looking at him disapprovingly.

"What do you need, schat?"

"Need… Need you."

"Need… This?" He asks as his hand wanders to the sides, pulling your thong halfway down your legs and touching you where you need him most. His finger starts flicking your clit while he slowly and gently inserts a finger into your cunt, making you moan out. You feel your walls tightening around his finger deliciously, making him moan. You grind down on him while he adds another finger into your aching pussy. By curling his fingers, he quickly makes you scream out your orgasm. It was drawn out, warm, sweaty and stopping your breath. You collapse on him, making him chuckle.

"We need to continue the drive…" Max whispers in your ear when you've come down and your breath has steadied.

The rest of the car ride home, you spend looking at him, you study his features… His dark blonde ruffled hair, big puffy lips, delicious thighs, blue eyes, and his beautiful soul. Deep down, you knew he was good, he was just brought into the wrong family and upbringing.

Were you falling for him? Absolutely. Helplessly, shamelessly.

When he parks in front of the house, he walks over to your side and pulls you into his arms, carrying you inside.

"I was hoping you'd sleep with me tonight…" He looks down on you.

"If you promise not to snore." You smile up at him. He bursts out laughing at your shenanigans.

"You're allowed to kick me off the bed if I do…" He softly replies as he walks up the stairs.

The guards are smart enough to stop in their tracks at the stairs, leaving you completely alone with Max.

"Why does this feel like some sort of wedding night?" You whisper.

"Does it? Are you nervous?" He looks at you with worry in his eyes.

"Yes… I mean no. I mean… Uh, maybe a little?"

"Don't worry, liefje. You're okay." He whispers back in your ear.

By the time you reach the bedroom, his lips are on yours in a delicious and heated kiss. He lets you down from his arms but as soon as your legs reach the floor his hands are on your hips, swaying you from side to side.

"Would you like to dance?" He asks.

"I can't dance…." You look down in embarrassment.

"Everyone can dance." He huffs and walks up to a stereo hidden in his wardrobe. The songs on the old CD give off the exact atmosphere Max wanted. He walks up to you and grabs your hands, leading you to the middle of the room. He lifts your right hand up slightly and places his other hand on your hip, swinging you from side to side to the music. He leans down and rests his head on your shoulder, letting out a deep sigh.

"You won't believe the effect you have on me, Y/N." He mumbles.

You hum and keep slow dancing. When Max lifts his head, he puts his hands on either side of your face and leans in to kiss you. The kiss was heated and turned into a makeout session. You feel your knees becoming weak and Max grabs you to hold you upright. He gives you a tiny nudge to take a couple of steps back and when you feel the edge of the bed behind your legs you collapse on top of it.

Max takes a moment to admire you as you lift yourself on your elbows and pout your lips. He hovers over you, picking your legs up on the way.

"Is this fine? I don't want to hurt you." And you nod as an answer. How in the fuck is this man a mafia boss. You'd never been with a man this caring.

He unzips your zipper and slides the dress down your body, with your help. The sight he's met with was like something from a wet dream. You, with a naked chest, in front of him lying in his bed. He slips your dress off, pulling your thong off along with it.

"So fijn…" He coos as his hands wander on your body. When his hands land on your bare chest you look up at his wide eyes. Your hands reach for his, grabbing them and holding your breasts with him. You gasp at the feeling of his rugged hands on you sliding along your sides, finding their way lower down. He leans into your heat, giving your clit a light kiss, looking at you for permission to dive in. As soon as you nod, he sticks his tongue out and tastes you. The taste makes him moan out loud. He's sure the guards downstairs can hear his sounds but he doesn't care at the moment.

"Taste so good, princess." He says as he laps his tongue around your clit and down to your pulsating hole, teasing it with his tongue. He continues eating you out as his finger works wonders on your clit. You try to cum quietly but you're unable to when Max sucks your clit into his mouth while adding two fingers into your sopping cunt.

You announce your orgasm, "I'm cumming!" and grab a hold of Max's hair to bring him impossibly closer as you cum all over his face.

"My turn." Max growls and pulls you up on your knees, as he quickly pulls his pants down to his knees. You see the outline of his dick in his underwear. You get the hint and pull his briefs down, and his dick springs out, making your mouth water. It was above average but not too big. He had more girth than length, and the head was pink and… puffy? For lack of a better word.

You instinctively open your mouth and stick your tongue out, giving max full access to your mouth. He doesn't waste a second and sticks his cock into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat instantly. You gag, but he doesn't stop. He wasn't rough per se, he was still attentive and stopped when you started struggling.

"Taking me so well…" He breathes out as he pushes himself into your gape again.

"Do you think you're ready to take my cock?" He asks.

You let his length go with a pop and nod.

He positions you under him, with your legs placed on his shoulders. "Do we need to use protection?" He asks.

"I'm clean and I've got an IUD."

"Good, let me know if I'm too rough."

And with that, he slides his cock through your lips and teases your entrance. Finally, his tip finds its way home, and you yelp out at the feeling of the intrusion. He slowly pushes his whole length into you while you try to breath through the feeling of him stretching you out. He gives you a break for you to adjust to his size.

"You okay?" He checks in.

"Yeah… Please move."

Max slides his length out, leaving only the tip inside of you, and pistons his way inside of you again.

"Oh god… So big." You moan.

He chuckles and increases the pace. You can't help yourself, and moan out in pure enjoyment.

"Shhhh…" He shushes you, putting his hand over your mouth.

He increases the pace even further and you squeeze your eyes shut in another toe-curling orgasm. Max doesn't stop though, and continues destroying your dripping pussy.

"Come here…" He pulls you up and you watch him lie down, and get on top. You grab his dick and guide it to your entrance. At this point, you're so wet that it slides in without any resistance.

You start riding his cock at a slow pace, making Max grunt in desperation. He grabs your hips, trying to set a quicker pace but you're having none of it. You slap his hands away and continue at your own pace.

Your pace quickens when you feel Max twitching in you, spilling his seed inside your pussy. He groans out every last drop that he has to give and pulls you down to his chest, peppering your face with kisses as you giggle at his antics.

"I love you." He admits as he stares into your eyes with a warmness in his eyes, something that you hadn't seen before.

When you part, he studies your pussy as his cum drips out, playing with it and stuffing it inside of you again.

You're exhausted after the nights activities and you collapse on the bed, falling asleep within a minute.

You're awakened by birds chirping and chattering. Your vision is blurry but you see the outline of Max on the other side of the bed. You stretch your body and hum happily, having last night's happenings fresh in your mind.

"Come here, Max… It's too early to be up."

It wasn't, but you'd gotten used to sleeping in over the last couple of months.

"Good morning, mijn schat." He coos as he walks over to you, kneeling on the bed. He gives you a quick peck before he pulls on your arm carefully, encouraging you to get up while you grunt, still plagued by exhaustion. "I guarantee pancakes if you get up." You look up at him and spring up from bed, suddenly not feeling tired at all anymore.

When you're done with your morning routine, you walk out of the bathroom and see Max getting dressed, with his back to you. You're shocked to see 5 small dents on his back, making you walk closer to inspect. As you trace your hand along his strong back muscles, he tense up.

"Stop that, Y/N." Max asks sternly.

"Why?" You tease.

"I said stop it!" He turns around and grabs your hands, holding them in his strong hold.

You yelp. "You're hurting me!"

As soon as he hears that, he immediately lets you go. His change in mood makes you take a few steps back in fear.

"I'm so sorry, liefje… I just c-"

"Don't touch me." You warn him holding your pointer finger up.

"Please, let me explain. I'm sure you can guess what those marks are. You see, Y/N, I'm not proud of what I am. Those marks remind me of what a monster I really am."

Your heart melts when you hear the man in front of you talk that way about himself. The usually so hard and masculine man is suddenly small and showing emotion. You see his eyes watering, looking fondly at you.

"Oh, Max…" You walk up and hug him, while he hugs you back with a tight grip.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." He sobs into your shoulder.

"I know, I know." You comfort him. You lead him to the bed, making him lie down while you lie down on top of him, grounding the man.

After lying like that for what feels like a minute but surely was more like 10 minutes, Max lifts you up, smiling.

"Thank you, mijn schat. You're so kind to me, despite my flaws. Now, didn't I just promise you pancakes?"

You get up and strut down to the kitchen, smiling and laughing, happy with the fact that Max was making you one of your favourite breakfast dishes. In the end, you had to give him some assistance, men are bad at multitasking, but you didn't mind at all. The teamwork made them taste even better.

The guards are no where to be seen so you and Max get to enjoy your breakfast in piece on the porch, enjoying the view over his garden.

[esmedelacroix]

All the ways you disappoint me.

pairing: boyfriend!miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: The honeymoon phase confirmed it's existence for the second year of dating Miguel. Your love life went from flourishing to one-sided the day Miguel revealed to you that he was Spiderman.

cw: ooc miguel, very angsty, depressive behaviors, alcohol abuse

a/n: I have been on hiatus for a very long time. I've been in a very dark place this past month. I lost a very good friend of mine that I have known since middle school. Which really threw me off track. I have a bunch of works in progress coming out soon. I finally feel like I'm in a mentally okay spot to pick up writing again. This is lowk just word vomit but its something.

*listen to this song on loop for the best experience !

miguel masterlist | next part

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Disappointment. A feeling you you felt often. Maybe even too often. You were very familiar with disappointment. He only ever came around late at night. Disappointment would wrap his arms around you as if he wasn't the reason why there was a wet spot on your pillowcase almost every night.

All Miguel O'Hara ever does is disappoint you. "So why are you still with him?" your good friend Jess asked over hot morning tea.

"What am I supposed to do without him?" you questioned.

"That's not a very healthy mindset to have. You know that," Jess said putting a firm comforting hand over yours.

You look away for a moment. Eyes trailing out the window of the Spider Society Café that reeked of coffee and broken promises. Miguel O'Hara was married to the barista who would hand him five coffees minimum a day. He chose to marry the barista and work and not his own girlfriend of three years.

As you watched the birds create an arrow in the air flying north over the firey trees below. Part of you wished that you were a bird in this very moment flying away from the problems that devoured your brain from the inside. "You still with me?" Jess asked worriedly.

"Yeah," you sighed turning back to her.

"So you'll talk to Miguel tonight?" Jess commanded. She did that a lot. She would ask a question that sounded like an order which made you feel the need to obey. You simply nodded bringing your mug to your lips and sipping on your now-cold Earl Grey tea.

"Isn't it strange how quickly tea gets cold?" you thought out loud.

"Well that's kind of how tea works hon'," she answered.

. . .

You stopped waiting for Miguel to come home ages ago because you didn't think there was a point in it. Just like how you didn't see the point in trying to talk to him about putting effort into your relationship. In the same way you shouldn't have seen the point in staying with him after your last thousand arguments. You felt your eyelids get heavier with every passing hour you spent staring at the ceiling waiting to hear the door swing open.

Like you summoned him with your mind, you heard the door. The keys. The sigh. And the footsteps. Your heart began to race. Why am I nervous? You asked yourself. You stood up and walked out of your shared room.

Miguel's usual routine was to get home eat the food you prepared for him hours prior, shower, and go to bed. As you walked down the hallway leading to the kitchen, you stopped yourself before turning the corner. Inhale. Exhale. You stepped out into the kitchen and his head shot up immediately. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?" he asked. That’s new. An apology, from Miguel. You thought to yourself.

"No, no, I was having trouble sleeping," you answered in a quiet voice.

"Everything alright?" he questioned as he scraped the last bit of food on his plate into his mouth.

"Yeah, I've just been thinking," you started.

"About?" he asked urging you to continue.

"Miguel do you still love me?" you blurted out.

"Of course I do," he replied in a fraction of a second. He sounded almost hurt that you had even asked that question.

Moments like these make you forget the status of your relationship. Moments when Miguel would forget that he's supposed to be cold to you. The moments when he allowed himself to let his guard down around you. Those fleeting moments that should have never left your relationship. "Then why don't we spend any time together? I want to be around you Miguel, I don't care if we sit in silence in the most boring place on the planet. I just want to be in your presence," you admitted. He gave you that little hurt expression again.

"I—I've just been busy," he stuttered. Miguel would often do this thing where he would begin to say something and then cut himself off and choose to say something else.

"Miguel, you know you can tell me anything," you insisted.

"I just—can we please not do this right now?" he pleaded.

You gave him a frown. "Can we sleep it off? Talk about it in the morning?" he sighed rubbing his face.

"Will you even be here in the morning?" you ask under your breath.

"I'll see," he said putting a hand on your shoulder as he walked past you into the bathroom. He did it again. He cut off the conversation the moment it got hard for him. Why are we so complicated? You asked yourself as you lay your head on your moist pillow. Will there ever be a night where I don't cry because of him? A night where he doesn't confuse me with his actions?

. . .

That night as you lay in bed with his back faced away from him, you couldn't help but cry. You felt like you were drowning in your tears. Like they were holding you back. You tried to be as quiet as possible. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. You repeated to yourself.

The only happy thoughts you could think of were of Miguel. Or the Miguel you used to know. The person he used to be before he started using his job as an excuse to neglect you.

Just then when your breathing slowed and you calmed down a bit with tears still streaming down your face. He wrapped his arms around you. He cuddled you from behind. He did that often. When he thought you were asleep. It was almost as if different versions of himself occupied his brain. You liked the one that took the spotlight at night.

The one that would cuddle you. Nuzzle his nose into your hair. The one that would rub your back and. Apologize. To. You.

. . .

Apology fell asleep that night and disappointment woke up at the ass crack of dawn because there was another Spider-verse that needed saving.

You woke up later that morning to the usual chilling feeling of Miguel not being there. You got up stretching your arms as you walked to your kitchen. You made yourself a cup of tea and an omelette, and ate alone, in silence. Thinking. About him. Again.

For the second time this week as if you called for him with your heart, you heard the balcony door slide open and a masked man swing in. He took his mask off and shook his head adjusting his hair. "Good morning," you said with a stupid smile on your face. Why? You couldn't tell. Maybe it was the fact that he was actually here in the morning like he said he would be.

"Good morning. You’re in a good mood," he chuckled.

"Well you're here," you smiled.

Miguel gave you a look. You weren't sure how to feel about it. But it wasn't a bad look. It was nice. Kind of sweet. He prepared a pot of black coffee and talked about his morning in Peni Parker's universe catching a difficult anomaly. For a moment, you could feel little fireflies set off in your stomach seeing him talk about something he was passionate about.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" he asked as he took a seat next to you.

"Just about us and our recent slump, I guess?" you started.

"I'm listening," he hummed as he sipped his coffee.

"I want to spend more time with you Miguel. I want to not argue with you about how much time you spend at work. I want to know what's on your mind. I want to know how you really are and not just how you say you are," you admit. Miguel stayed quiet for a while in thought.

"I don't know what to say to that," he said; his voice cracking a bit.

"You don't have to say anything just—let me be your shelter, please?" you suggested.

. . .

That night Miguel didn't come home. He didn't come in the middle of the night. He didn't come to eat either. He didn't come to wrap his arms around you. And he didn't come to apologize.

. . .

I don't like it when my friends tell me I have a drinking problem. How could it possibly be a problem if it makes me feel better about all the things that rack my brain? Being vulnerable is much easier said than done. Especially, with the girl I love. Of course, I want to tell her things. I want to tell her everything. I want her to know me as well as she knows her hometown. As well as she knows her childhood cat. And as well as she knows how to navigate Pinterest.

But I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'll cry and she'll think I'm weak. I'm afraid she'll think I'm unworthy. I know she would never think those things about me. But how could anyone think anything differently if I think that way about myself?

That's why I turn to the friend that won't let me down ever. Endless Modelos. Because I'm so weak that I can't even open up tp my girlfriend. Every time I feel like I am finally ready to tell her what I'm going through, I stop myself because I am afraid.

. . .

To your great surprise, Miguel wasn't there in the morning. Or the next, or even the one after that. By the third you hadn't seen him it was beginning to stress you out. You wondered if he was safe. If he was even still alive. You decided to go to the Spider Society.

After talking with Jess for a while and babysitting Mayday for a bit. You were finally free to go see Miguel in his office. You opened the door and called out to him but the only thing you heard from him was a sniff. Then two. Followed by a third.

"Miguel are you up there?" you asked as you climbed the stairs to his his platform.

"No?" he said in a shaky voice.

"Is everything okay?" you asked. You saw your answer in the form of 10 too many emptied beer bottles on his desk and on the ground.

You rushed towards him discarding your purse on the ground. He brought his hands to his face and he hid. From you. Your heart sank to the lowest pit in your stomach it could reach. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulders and crouched down next to him. "Miguel, talk to me, please?" you whispered.

Nothing.

. . .

The worst way Miguel could ever disappoint you happened. You had imagined it happening in so many other ways but not like that. You never thought of him as the type of man to give up on something so good.

For the last time in your relationship, Miguel O'Hara disappointed you when he told you he wanted to break up.

. . .

next part → All the ways I defy you

[ohnoitstbskyen]

I know you made shorts for Sora, Riku, and Kairi, but do you have any other thoughts about Kingdom Hearts?

Ik this is kinda vauge and you get these kind of asks all the goddamn time, but I hyperfixated on those games for most of elementary and middle school and its always cool to see your favorite Youtuber talk about stuff you really like. Not to guilt trip you into answering this one or anything, just. . . I'm very tired and it would be very cool lol.

Again, saving my character design thoughts for some more shorts, but I adore Kingdom Hearts. Like, the first game really ISN'T much more than a cross-promotional branding exercise for Disney and Square, same as any of a dozen other similar crossover centric franchises; it's a Saturday morning cartoon show that wants to get you invested (or keep you invested) in a bunch of fancy IPs to buy toys of, but it's a really good one of those.

And it's a game that understands that the central thing that's going to hook people IN to that kind of thing is characters that are willing to believe in what they've got going on with one thousand percent sincerity. Which I think is the thing they nailed more than anything. Sora cares SO MUCH, and he wants to find his friend and his love interest (Kairi and Riku, respectively) SO BADLY, you can't help but root for the poor kid and want to believe in it.

Then, with the first game successfully managing to hook a solid fanbase, the creative team went "hey what if we had even MORE extremely earnest cool anime people getting deep in their feelings?" and now we're off to the races with Organizations and Oblivion Castles and fractions of 358 days.

And the thing that makes all the hyper-convoluted wheels-within-wheels plot machination nonsense WORK is that down, deep down, right at the core of what the franchise is always trying to say, is that love will save us. Yeah yeah hearts and darkness and unversed and nobodies and keyblades and blah blah blah (to be clear: I adore all that nonsense), but all of it is top-to-bottom in service of that singular central thematic clarion call.

Love will save us.

What holds Ventus together after Xehanort tears his heart apart? The love of Sora. What keeps Roxas the nobody from fading into Sora? The love of Xion and Axel, and Hayner, Pence and Olette. What brings Xion back? The love of Axel and Roxas. Hearts ring together and resonate and bind themselves to each other and there is no darkness so deep, no tragedy so absolute, no villain so foul that the cry of a loving heart cannot defeat it.

Roxas is a nobody doomed to darkness? Fuck you, Kingdom Hearts is love, no he isn't. Xion is a mere replica puppet, a failed experiment that nobody will remember? >>EXTREMELY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER<< get seasalt icecream'd on top of a clock tower at sunset, IDIOT.

Over and over again characters sink into despair and loneliness, they fear that their connections are fake or fading, they fear being forgotten or left behind (Riku in the first game, the breaking of Ventus, Aqua and Terra, Roxas thinking nobody would miss him, Aqua in the Realm of Darkness), and over and over again they are proven beautifully wrong. There is always a hand reaching out, there is always someone who will miss you. Love will save us.

And this absolutely gets hokey, of course it does, it's a saturday morning children's cartoon. It's a bit simplistic, maybe a bit naïve, but honestly in a world where you can't walk two steps without bleak-minded doomer cynicism forcing the assumption that nothing truly good is possible and that the worst will always happen, Kingdom Hearts is a story so absolutely drenched in hope, sincerely held, that it feels like a fucking balm.

Also, LITERALLY where the fuck else are you going to get Woody from Toy Story reading an edgy anime villain for absolute filth? Nowhere, that's where. ONLY Kingdom Hearts.

None of this is to suggest I don't have criticisms of the franchise or that it's faultless. I could talk for several hours unbroken about all my gripes and problems, chief among which is LET KAIRI DO THINGS OH MY FUCKING GOD the franchise is low key misogynistic towards its female characters sometimes but I am talking about the things I love here let me just be happy for a second.

[miguelhugger2099]

Best Friend's Brother

Summary: You have a falling out with your best friend. Trying to avoid an awkward interaction, you bump into his brother instead. Miguel x Reader, Suggestive, Word Count: 1,925 a/n: i woke up from a nap, saw a tiktok and was inspired so i made this half asleep. excuse any mistakes

Your friend practically dragged you to this party even when you said you didn't want to.

You had recently gone through a messy falling out with your high school best friend, Gabriel O'Hara. It left you angry and heartbroken since he was the closest person you've shared yourself with.

He accused you of not paying enough attention to him–that you were leaving him in the dust like everyone since you've been away at college.

You defended yourself that it wasn't like that but he just couldn't see it. It ended up as an arguing match over the phone–Gabriel telling you not to see him ever again in a fit of anger, which hurt a lot after it sunk in.

When you had come home over summer break, you other friend who had stayed invited you over to a block party someone was holding. It was on the same street Gabriel lived on so you denied profusely.

She assured you that you wouldn't see him. You wouldn't bump into him since apparently there'd be a bunch of people on the block and she'd be with you the entire time.

That's what she promised. Until she got so wasted she talked and danced with other people. 

You glare at your friend, cup held tightly in your hand. You took a swig of the alcohol, the bitter taste of it burning your throat. It tasted like pure shit but it was all these guys could muster up that wasn't a BuzzBall. Maybe a BuzzBall would've been better.

You were sure not to drink too much, too focused on making sure you didn't have an awkward conversation in the middle of your hometown. You held your stomach as you felt the need to pee.

You groaned under your breath, the buzz of the cheap alcohol thumping in your brain. If you didn't pee now, you'd surely burst any moment. You looked around to see if you could ask someone who lived here to let you in their bathroom. You'd rather die than use a bush of porta-potty.

Luckily, you saw some people leave and enter a house freely. Deciding this was your chance, you hurried your numbing legs across the lawns to slip past inside the house. 

Inside were various people, ranging from grabbing more drinks and food. You asked where the bathroom was, some kind stranger giving you directions that you were still kinda sober enough to process.

You lock the door behind you and collapse on the toilet after pulling your shorts down. After flushing and washing your hands, you decided to just take a breather on the toilet seat. You groaned as you rubbed your temples, annoyed that you're here, and annoyed that you can't even have fun with the fear of meeting your ex best friend. 

Once you felt a little better, you stood up and grabbed your cup again, ready to throw it out and drink a gallon of water at this point.

You glared at the inside of the cup as you stepped out, not realizing someone was coming from the side. You turned and you both made contact, the cup squishing between you two and spilling all over the stranger.

“Shit!” You yelped and you heard the stranger let out a surprised grunt. You look up and with your hazy vision you murmur. “Gabri?”

“Guess again.” He said. Your eyes focused and realized this person had similar features to Gabriel, just slightly older. It was his older brother, Miguel.

Miguel looked down at his soiled shirt, patting it down and lifting it to dry it off. Some droplets of your drink went into his hair, making it give off a bit of sparkle in the light.

His eyes met yours and you flinched. Does he know?

He said your name hesitantly. “Is that you?” The corner of his lips quirking up.

“Yeah. Yeah, it's me.” Fuck. “Sorry. I'm so sorry, I just spilled everything on you.” In a drunk haze you reach out to help him in some way but he stops you.

“It's fine.” He chuckles and looks at your behavior, the slight sway in your stance and blinking to focus. “You alright?” He asks, taking your arm gently.

“Fine,” You choke out. “Just needed some water.” Miguel tilts his head down at you and nods.

“Here. Let me help you.” He turns you in the other direction, presumably to the kitchen. His hand on your lower back and you have to fight the shiver from the warm contact.

In the kitchen, you lift yourself on the counter by the sink while Miguel rummages through the fridge, a few cold water bottles stacked inside. He grabs one and uncaps it for you then hands it over to you. You take it from him, your fingers brushing against each other. 

You cross your legs, your senses being heightened from the alcohol–is what you told yourself.

Miguel grabs a paper towel and wets it before dabbing it on his shirt, hoping to get the stickiness of it out. You sip from your bottle as he does so.

“Sorry…” You mumble again and Miguel laughs softly.

“Really, it's okay. Couldn't ask for a better way to see you after so long.” He glances at you.

“We never really talked.” You fiddled with the water cap.

“But I used to see you all the time around the house. Now you just disappeared from thin air, thanks to Gabri.” He grabs another paper towel to dry himself off.

You wince. “You know?” 

Miguel nods. “Yeah. Wasn't hard to tell. All he did was talk about you so when he stopped I figured something happened.” He shrugs, seemingly unbothered.

You felt a pang in your heart. Gabriel was always so sweet, was always your number one supporter and you did the same. You wondered why he felt so insecure this time around.

“Did he tell you why?” You ask, feeling the coldness of the water helling you sober up.

Miguel tosses the used paper towels in the trash. “Probably the same thing as everything. Feels like he's being abandoned, so he abandons people first.”

You look at him with furrowed brows. “That's it?”

Miguel nods and leans on the counter so he faces you. “Yeah. I mean makes sense. It's why he didn’t let us talk and it's why you stayed best friends for so long until you left.” He spins the rings on his fingers around.

“Didn't let us talk?” You scoffed. “Gabriel told me you were never home.”

Miguel laughs. “‘Cause he told me to. Went on some jealous rampage that I'd convince you to leave him.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “He told me every friend he made always left him for you.”

“He had shit friends that for some reason dropped him. Always when that happened, I'd want nothing to do with them but Gabriel believed I did it on purpose.” Miguel frowns.

You turn back to the ground where your leg swung softly. “He made you out to be such an asshole.”

He hums, his eyes staring at you while you begin to think. He gazes up and down your body, the skin of your legs showing and lightly sheer the crop top that made him lick his lips. He couldn't help himself any longer.

“Maybe it's the alcohol making me honest but I really started to like you before you up and left.” Miguel admits, standing up to face in front of you, fitting himself between your legs. He places his hands on your thighs and you stiffen, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“What? Is this some sort of joke?”

Miguel chuckles, his fangs showing that makes you weak. “No jokes here, baby.” The pet name rolls off his tongue easily which sends your heart pounding.  His fingers reach up to the belt loops on your shorts, curling around them. “I didn't get to see you much because of my brother. And I meant what I said–about his friends being assholes and how I never meant to hurt him, but with you,” He tugs on your belt loops and forces you to lose your balance so your hands could hold onto his arms. He buries his face in your neck and leaves a small kiss.

“I would've wanted to steal you.” His warm breath pants on your skin. His hands let go of your belt loops to rest on your hips. You have no idea which is worse–or better.

Miguel feels your blood pumping through your veins under his lips and smirks.

Your mind spun with how close he was and what words he was spilling.

“Where's Gabriel?” You ask in a whisper.

“Not anywhere that matters right now.” 

“Of course, it matters!” You squeal in a high pitched whisper. “I'm not about to fuck my best friends older brother.”

“Ex best friend and I never said we were fucking. Unless you want to, I'm down.” He nibbles on your neck and you whine.

You struggle with the need between your legs and your mind fighting between your personal morals versus personal desire. For the few times you've seen Miguel while you were still friends with Gabriel, you've noticed he was hot. It wasn't often but you'd enjoy the days where he came home from the gym, tank top drenched in sweat and headband pushing his fringe back while he took gulps from his tumbler.

Gabriel would snap you out of your stupor with a call of your name and you never noticed the small smirk when Miguel saw the small flustered look on your face.

Miguel feels your heart pounding and the stiff way you hold his shoulders. His smirk drops and he lifts his head from your neck to look at you.

“I'm just teasing. If you don't want anything, we don't have to. Do you have a ride? I could take you home.” Miguel murmurs gently, letting go and slipping his hands off your body.

You stop him from leaving, his eyes widening when you place his hands back to your hips.“No, no. I want…I want to.” You breathe out.

Miguel smirks again. “Yeah?” He hums, his hands feeling the curve of your hips and squeezes your thighs in his palms.

“Mhm.” You nod, letting yourself succumb to whatever is about to happen.

“How badly do you want it?” He asks. Your arms rest loosely around his neck, lips brushing against one another. 

“Miguel…” You whine, not wanting to play this game. Miguel's heart skips a beat, cock twitching in his pants at how cute you look and sound whining for him.

“Contéstame, nena.” He pressed a teasing kiss to the corner of your lips. You lock your legs around his waist and his hands go under your shirt, feeling up your torso and up your back to tug on your bra strap.

“Fuck–badly, Miguel.” You groan. Miguel shutters out a sigh, collecting you in his arms and hurrying back to the bathroom in a poor attempt at gaining privacy for you two. 

He sets you down on the sink counter and locks the door, his lips immediately finding yours. You let out a weak moan and curl your fingers in his hair while he slides your bra up to cup your breast underneath your shirt.

Were really about to do this? Fucking your ex best friends older brother that was convinced would steal you from him– and that he's technically right?

He's not here so maybe a little bit of the forbidden fruit wouldn't hurt…

a/n: imagine gabriel finding out hahahah.... 😐 

[the-lambda-archives-ai]

“Okay. . . Background. . . I was a troubled kid, I’ll just get that out of the way, got into fights skipped school made a lot of questionable choices for my age.

I think it goes without saying I didn’t have a lot of friends, not my fault, my parents were shit, abusive dad and a pushover of a mom who just sat back and watched; I used to tell myself it was 'cause she was scared of him too.

Doesn’t matter anymore.

Let’s just say they didn’t take too kindly to finding out that their dearest daughter wanted to be a boy.

I was. . . on my own, I couldn’t stay at home, they didn’t want me to stay and neither did I; since my parents abandoned me I’d forced myself to go back into the closet, I was afraid that if I was myself people would leave.

Typically people aren’t too keen on letting an angry teenager with a shit load of baggage in, so I had nowhere to go.

Naturally, when I turned 18 I joined the army, I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you about all the horrors of the military.

I’m let off 7 years later, and if you thought I had problems before, you wouldn’t know the half of it.

I was more lost than ever before.

Turned out I wasn’t the only one because a little while later I ran into a mate from the army in a bar, turned out we both were from the same little shit hole, and coincidentally both ended up in the same town; we drank, talked, and for the first time I felt like I wasn’t alone, I’ve never had it happen where I talked to a stranger and it feel like we’ve known each other our entire lives, it could have also been the alcohol that made it a bit easier, but we got on like a house on fire.

Adrian was the first guy who ever really understood me, who I felt comfortable around, hell I even worked up the confidence to come out to him, I was scared shitless but he obviously accepted me. . . heh . . .it’s funny ‘cause the moment after I came out, he quickly confessed he thought he was gay, it caught me so off guard that I laughed and said “way to kill the moment.” he said he thought it would make me feel better if he also confessed a secret.

I was lost, but now I had a friend.

I became an officer and shortly after he did too, for the first time in my entire life things were beginning to get on track.

We had a good. . . 6 years? without a major incident, which in hindsight it's crazy either of us made it that long without crashing into a tree or something, but well. . . obviously that didn’t last.

One of the guys from work invited us on a hunting trip, it sounded exciting, I’d never been hunting before and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna pass up an opportunity to get drunk in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of idiots! Adrian wasn’t as excited about it as I was and was more reluctant to agree, but I guess when he heard I was going he agreed to come along.

It was us and 3 other guys in Colorado for 3 days, first couple days were great, we hiked around the mountain, went fishing, shot a couple ducks, got temporarily lost, the usual fun you have camping, it was on the night of the second day I think, that one of the guys, Adam, said he saw something moving around the campsite, Clarke, another guy, whipped out his gun and shot it in the air without warning and said some dumb shit like “well it’s gone now!”.

He got yelled at for being a fucking dumbass, but we all kind of agreed it was probably a deer and long gone now.

Adrian woke me up that night, but in a fuckin- kidnap-cover-your-mouth style, I was gonna yell at him but before I could get anything out he whispered to be quiet.

I- I’d never seen him so. . . scared.

I nodded to him and he slowly let go and inched towards the tent door, I- I asked him what was going on but he just whipped around and glared at me, I kind of just shut up and tried to listen. . .?

I’d thought maybe a bear wandered into the campsite and he’d heard it or something?

We were sat there for maybe two or three minutes before I heard a- something growling. . . it- it wasn’t like anything- I- I need you to understand there is no damn animal in Colorado that could make that noise, it was so low but not like- a natural low, like it didn’t sound real?

It sounded like if you took a dog growling and edited it to the lowest possible setting and added a reverb? Something like that- it- it was so loud I thought that it was around our tent but. . . I realized it wasn’t when I heard Adam scream.

The next part was sort of a blur, something ripped into our tent, gunshots, and we both ran out into the woods, I- I wasn't focused on where I was going- I just kept running, like tunnel vision.

It was dark and cold and at some point I realized I wasn't wearing any shoes 'cause my feet were bleeding, I was completely out of breath and exhausted, I had to stop, I barely had a moment to breathe when I heard the growling start again, it wasn't close but it was loud enough that I knew it was near, and then the growl began to change, it slowly morphed into a laugh, and then it started coming from all directions, it was so loud it- that horrible unnatural laugh rang in my skull and I couldn’t move, I knew I was trapped and- that I’d die here, alone.

A gunshot pierced the woods and all at once the laughter stopped, Adrian emerged from the tree line holding a pistol, he was shaken up but began to make his way toward me. . . I should have known better than to let my guard down, but I was so happy to see his stupid face.

A figure jumped out of the trees at a speed that- I. . . I didn’t even have the time to process what was happening, I just turned over to look and it was on Adrian, he dropped his gun and the thing- it- it almost looked human but was so deformed- it was bloated in some places and skinny in others, its face looked charred, pitch black, the only things visible were its glowing white eyes and teeth- it kicked his gun away and I ran to go pick it up, when I turned back I was expecting it to try to stop me. . . That you know- me running would at least catch it's attention? But it didn’t. . . I turned back to see it mauling Adrian, it ripped into his arm and part of his jaw before I shot it.

It didn’t die, the bullet barely seemed to have affected it, but it was enough to drive it back into the woods, he- Adrian was bleeding. Bad.

I- I was so scared he’d die- I lifted him up and wandered the woods looking for the nearby highway, I walked with him for what felt like hours before the forest service found us, they were already on their way because they heard all the gunshots.

From there I guess I must have passed out because next thing I know I’m waking up in a hospital bed, I was well enough and practically jumped out of bed looking for someone to ask if Adrian was alright, but turned out he was in the bed next to me all patched up and sleeping, it’s weird, despite everything that had just happened, in that moment all I thought about was how we must have truly been inseparable if not even a freaky monster could break us apart.

I probably jinxed it. . . Adrian recovered alright and got a ton of gnarly new scars he covers up but. . . he wasn’t the same.

He became . . . obsessed with hunting down whatever that thing was. . . Metaphorically speaking, he’d never go back to those or any other woods ever again, but, he wanted answers, at some point he learned about the lambda institute and became unhealthily obsessed.

His hunger for answers was what began to drive a wedge in our friendship, the supernatural has him in a chokehold, and I don’t even think he realizes it.

Since his recovery he’s. . . spiraled. . . he’s obsessive, possessive, paranoid, and he does things without even thinking about the consequences, before all this happened he was the responsible one, one of our friends joked that I’ve basically become his babysitter, it was a joke but it’s sort of true.

I knew he was obsessed with the paranormal, but I didn’t find out about his fixation on the lambda institute 'till after yesterdays incident when he confessed about it after we left.

. . . He’s been put on mental health leave for a couple weeks, and he’s barely spoken to me since.

I’m getting worried- I’ve been worried, for his health, our r- friendship, but- now more than ever, he always comes to me for everything, but he’s been getting withdrawn, hiding things from me isn’t- he never does that; from others, yes, but not me, I’m- this is bad, I’m worried about what other things he could be hiding, he hid his obsession for months I don’t- I- I think he’s going to do something, something stupid, he’s gonna get hurt and I need to stop him but I don’t know how, I just. . . I just want my best friend back.

> Statement ends.

Pt 192 > here

Prev > here

[ihaznoclue]

Recently got into ZZZ and I came up with this. So Nicole and Ellen (separate) have an S/O who’s a hardworking proxy. However, they are constantly pulling all-nighters and falling asleep at their desk in the middle of the day. How would they respond?

Pairings -> Nicole Demara, Ellen Joe x Reader

Warnings -> None

Note -> You are a hardworking proxy that intends to pull all nighters, you then would fall asleep at your desk during the middle of the day

Genre -> Fluff

Nicole Demara

Well since she is your girlfriend and that you are a proxy that works at the same business with Belle and Wise

She always visits you when she is free from missions and all that other stuff

Sometimes she would come on by during the night sometimes since you would invited her over if she is free of course

But sometimes she would sneak in like those boys going into their girlfriends house and that they don't want to be caught

Yeah she would be the type to do that

Right now you were quite busy with your work that you were not paying attention to the time

It was around 3 am already

And you didn't even know it was that time already but you just kept working until your heard the birds chirping

"Ugh.. I did it again"

Nichole would text you every morning to see if she could come over

You accepted her to come over, but your eyes felt droopy as you tried to stay awake

Eventually you fell asleep at your desk with a bunch of tabs open on your computer in front of you as well as your phone on the desk that was getting spammed by your girlfriend Nicole

She was texting what time she should come over but she wasn't getting any response so she just went

She was greeted by Belle who was running the store while Wise was at the back doing some commissions

She asked for you and Belle said that you would be in your room upstairs

Nichole then went up stairs and knocked on your door

"Sweetie? You in there?"

No response

She opened the door to see you asleep at your desk once again, she sighed

"Not again.."

She would carry you to your bed which made you open your eyes to see what was happing

"Go back to sleep Hun, I see that you were working hard last night again. I'll be here when you wake up but I have to let Belle know"

"Sorry, I lost track of time"

"It's okay, just go back to sleep Love. Get some rest"

She kissed your forehead and then go back downstairs to let belle know you would be having a little nap upstairs

Ellen Joe

So we all know this girl lovessss to sleep anywhere and anytime at anyday

So I reckon that Ellen would find you asleep and then sleep with you

So again you are working hard, doing stuff on your computer, searching online for some stuff that you were trying to find

You worked at the same business with Belle and Wise

You lived with them anyways so but you were a friend of theirs

Around the time you went to sleep was around the next day during the afternoon because you literally stayed up all night trying to get something done

Ellen would be off of work as she comes back from school to see you

She comes in the store and greets both Wise and Belle

Ellen would ask where you were and Wise and Belle says they haven't seen you get out of your room yet today

Ellen would go check up on you to see if you were okay

She would knock first before see comes in to see you asleep at your desk again

She would sigh and she shakes her head but she wouldn't be complaining

She would try to wake you up, but if you didn't

She would carry you to your bed

You would wake up to her clothes shuffling around as she tries to take off her School jacket and toss it on the floor

"Hm? Ellen, what-"

"Shh, Just go back to sleep. I'm having a nap with you, So don't fight it"

"I pulled an all-nighter didn't I?"

"Yep, but now you are going to rest with me"

"Didn't you just come back from school?"

"Yep and I'm tired"

"I bet you fell asleep in class"

You snickered as you forehead would get flicked by Ellen

"Just go to sleep idiot"

-A<3

[kaleidoscopiccc]

more headcannons to add to the pile:

ocean is the only member of the choir that doesnt have her ears pierced because shes scared to death of needles

mischa is banned from the only wafflehouse in uranium for reasons he refuses to explain

noel and ocean made a pact in like middle school to get married if neither of them were married by the age of 30

neither mischa nor ricky are allowed on aux under any circumstances because theyll play nothing but badegg and undertale fan songs respectively

mischa walks around in a t-shirt and shorts in the middle of canadian winter, hes just immune to the cold for some reason

ocean sorts all her stationary in rainbow order, she will explode if they get messed up

noel and ocean get into arguments about the best taylor swift albums constantly during choir

ocean is a lover and fearless stan for life an noels favorite is reputation

constance doesnt even try to make her case for speak now

one time she did and both of them turned to her in sync, yelled "no!", and went back to fighting

penny casually brings up her trauma in the middle of conversions and proceeds to leave the rest of the choir speechless (“oh yeah like that one time i got my entire family and friends arrested in a police raid on our drug commune” “the WHAT”)

ocean has a bunch of sapphic romance books hidden under her bed even though literally no one but her goes in her room

noel was a theatre kid but was banned from all school performances after the nativity incident so he started taking art instead

constance is the same height as (if not a little shorter than) ocean but always wears platforms so ocean ends up being the shortest either way

“100% of people who have sex as teens die, you don't want to die do you?” -ocean oconnell rosenberg, 2009

everyone in the choir needs glasses just to varying degrees most of them just dont wear them for reasons ranging from "yeah thats understandable" to "WHAT THE FUCK RICKY

penny hates pants with all her heart and will only wear shorts or skirts no matter how cold it is outside

constance hates pants almost as much and will wear shorts all the way up to like december

mischa refuses to close any of the apps or tabs on his phone and it literally dies quicker than he did

ocean loves cats but cats hate her, if they dont kill her from allergies, theyll start scratching the shit out of her (she cant be within 500 ft of the potts household without dying on the spot)

noel literally had to lock penny and ocean in the choir room together for them to confess to each other

it took them 2 hours

the others were just outside playing cards the whole time

mischa taught ricky poker during those 2 hours and ricky absolutely wrecked him every single round

mischa rage quit after the 5th time he lost in a row

the piano in the st cassian music room (/choir practice room) has been horrendously out of tune for longer than anyone can remember and no one bothers to fix it (ocean tried once but failed miserably and probably just made it worse)

[warping-realities]

Dalton Academy - Consuming Rage

Jaime was in a modest kitchen, a strong wind was blowing outside, lashing the walls, but he knew he was safe inside, smelling the familiar smell of sugar and cinnamon that reminded him of someone, someone he knew, someone who was important to him. Someone who he hadn't seen for a long time. And so he knew he could only be dreaming.

"Hola mijo..."

"¿Abuela? ¿Donde estamos? ¿Qué está pasando?"

"No tenemos mucho tiempo Jaime cariño. Siempre fuiste mi pequeño rayo de sol, tan brillante, capaz de iluminar el mundo entero...

...todavía...

.... este lugar en el que estás no es para ti...

...él cambia a todos....

...sal de ahí Jaime...

...este lugar te chupará la luz... te apagará...

...este es un lugar de depredadores...

...y en él sólo hay lugar para ellos...

...sal de ahí Jaime...

...antes de que tu luz se apague...

....antes de que te quedes atrapado en la oscuridad....

...con ellos....

...como ellos..."

The scene changed, he was no longer in his childhood home, but in front of the entrance to a cave where that same wind was blowing, stirring his clothes and hair. He was standing still, unable to move. Next to him were a bunch of puppies, three of them playing and a fourth sleeping by his leg. The mouth of the cave was dark and impenetrable and he couldn't stop staring at it. Until a figure slowly emerged from it, a creature, huge, covered in fur, eyes with a predatory gleam and fangs in a long snout, fangs that seemed almost to smile. The wolf stopped at the entrance to the cave and lay down, staring at him and the cubs with those bright eyes. Until one of them defiantly approached the cave and its occupant.

Jaime wanted to yell at him to stop so he wouldn't go. But he went. Before going back to where he had come from the wolf looked back towards Jaime and the other puppies, who were no longer playing.

Everything was silent for a moment, even the wind seemed to stop... until the yelps started.

The cubs scattered in all directions, and the same instinct to flee took hold of him, but he was still paralyzed, incapable of any movement and remained so until the yelps were drowned out by a howl, loud and aggressive that made his blood run cold. But not as much as what came next, the pup's yelps slowly becoming a howl of their own, just as loud and aggressive as the other, until both combined in unison with the rising wind noise. So loud that he didn't even realize that his own screams had joined that sinister melody.

….

"Michael, no, Michael..."

"Sanchez wake up... Sanchez!"

"Ngh... agh..."

"Sanchez! Jaime! Wake up man!"

Jaime opened his eyes, it was the middle of the night, he was lying on his bed, with the sheets turned over and his body drenched in sweat.

"Are you okay, man?"

Asked Jacob Miller, his roommate.

"I… yeah… it was just a nightmare."

"It must have been a bad one...so who is Michael?"

"Michael?"

"Yeah, you kept mentioning that name."

"I…I don't know…a friend…maybe?"

But Jaime didn't have any friends by that name. Not that he remembered.

But then why did thinking about that name bring him a strange feeling of emptiness, he thought as he listened to the rumble of his colleague's breathing in the bed next to him.

….

"Did you hear that Sanchez wet his bed yesterday?"

"Why would I care about that, Mike?"

"Because from what you told me he..."

"Not here, let's have this conversation at the club later."

It was the end of PE class and Chad and Mike were in the locker room getting changed for next period. Surrounded by classmates and the gossip that had spread through the school like fire through dry straw.

"Besides, people are making too much of what happened, as far as I know he just had a bad dream."

Chad continued as he took off his sweat-soaked training shirt.

"But what if this is a sign or ..."

"Michael!"

"Sorry, we'll leave it for later, you're right."

"And when I'm not correct?"

"Asshole"

"What happened to the King of Cleverness, Big Mike?"

"He befriended a fucking asshole."

Mike responded laughing at the inside joke and being accompanied by Chad.

"Like I said, let's talk about this later, when we're alone. Until then, we have other matters to deal with. Are you prepared to do what I instructed you to do?"

"Yes, but I don't understand how that can be possible."

"I already told you, wait and see... trust me."

"Well, I don't think I have any other choice, do I?"

"Not if you want to expand our little brotherhood with the right men."

"Edward Chang is not exactly my definition of a man, right or wrong."

Answered Mike looking at the thin young man sitting on a bench, looking extremely out of place in that environment and probably waiting for everyone to leave to change.

"What you need to understand is that he doesn't need to fit your or my definition of right, not now, aniway. Right now what our colleague needs is someone to help him fit that definition. And no one better than we to do that"

"I still don't understand how that could be possible."

"Don't make me repeat myself, Mike, you'll soon understand. Edward Chang is about to receive an upgrade and you'll be the one to deliver it."

….

To say that Edward's life in Dalton was bad would be a giant understatement. The naturally shy boy had by no means managed to find his place at school. Though every now and then he got the feeling that things should be different. But then he would shake his head and think why would they be different? All his life he had difficulty making connections due to his shyness, or as his father was fond of reminding him, his cowardice. His father could hardly believe it when Chadwick Hartfield Sr. informed him that there was a vacancy for Edward at Dalton. And this one in turn was forced to abandon the few friends he had at the old school to live with Chadwick son and his minion Michael Jones.

To be fair, none of them pestered him even once, in fact it was as if he didn't exist to them, until that morning at least. As people tended to ignore Edward's presence, sometimes even forgetting that the boy was present, he went through many situations unnoticed, which allowed him to see much more about others than others about him. And while he was waiting for the school locker room to empty so he could change without exposing himself, he couldn't help noticing that Chadwick and Michael's gazes were directed more often than usual in his direction, accompanied by that arrogant smile that both shared and that made a shiver ran down Edward's spine. He suspected that nothing good could come of it. He just didn't know he was about to find out how much.

….

"Is this seat vacant?"

Asked a bass voice, sending a shiver down Edward’s spine, who at that moment was sitting at his desk and looked up to stare at the imposing figure of Michael Jones.

What does he want with me??? It was the first thought to run through Edward's mind. He had already suffered his fair share of bullying and assaults and he knew that someone like Michael was a risk. But at the same time, looking closely for the first time into the other boy's brown eyes he felt a sense of familiarity, as if for some reason he could trust Michael, which of course was utterly absurd and...

"Dude, is everything okay? Can I sit here or not?"

"Ahn, y-yeas, there's nobody sitting there."

"Great, I believe we haven't been introduced yet, I'm Michael Jones, but everyone calls me Big Mike."

Said Michael sitting next to Edward who remained silent, not knowing what to say.

"Usually at that point the other person introduces himself."

Michael continued.

"Ahn, ahhh...yes...I'm Edward...Edward Chang."

"Edward Chang? Son of Emett Chang's ? Owner of Red Panda?"

"Y-yes...but how do you know that?"

"Well it's one of the biggest oriental fast food chains in the country, anyone with an interest in finance would know that. You must be very proud of that, no?"

Once again not knowing what to say, Edward chose to remain silent. Which this time seemed to bother Michael.

"Is there something wrong with me, Eddie? Maybe I'm not good enough for a millionaire's son to spare his attention?"

He spoke with an air of someone who thinks he's good enough for anything.

"I... no... it's not that... it's just..."

"Hey Chang, is this idiot bothering you?"

Interrupted a thin boy with black hair sitting at a desk a few seats away.

"Who are you calling an idiot, Roberts?"

Asked Mike getting up and turning towards his colleague, looking like a giant standing in the middle of the room before concluding

"Mind your own business Roberts it's all right between Eddie and me. And if you call me an idiot again I'll come over there and rip your skinny ass."

For Edward that was a frightening scene, never in his life would he have the ability to stand up and make threats like that, of course he wasn't a behemoth like Michael...

"I'm not talking to you Jones. Is this idiot bothering you, Edward?”

Repeated Jonathan Roberts, Edward’s roomate, in a display of defiance and courage that Edward knew he himself would never be capable of. It was easy to be aggressive and confident when you were the size of Michael Jones, but Jonathan was the same size as Edward and he still managed to hold his own. Edward knew what his father would say about that and it made him deeply saddened.

"You little shit, I'm going to finish you off!"

Michael said making mention of complying with the commitment.

"No, no need... I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You can sit here next to me Chang, you don't have to put up with that one."

Edward felt an urge to do just that. Something told him to do this. He disliked Michael and feared him, the other boy was too reminiscent of some of the former classmates who had hounded and humiliated him over the years. And precisely because of that, and because he was the avoidant of confrontation that he was, Edward decided not to follow his intuition and stay where he was.

"Yes, I'm fine, really."

"Well, it's up to you, but..."

“Stop being a pain in the ass Roberts, pick someone else to be your social project this time, Chang already said that everything is fine."

Mike said, sitting down again.

"Asshole, just because he's a senator's son, he thinks he might be some kind of social justice beacon. He came after me the first few days of school, thinking I might be some little project of his, but he was wrong. I know what I'm getting at and it won't be through his charity. Which brings us back to our conversation. It seemed to me for a moment that you didn't want to talk to me Chang. But now you've chosen to side with me. If the problem isn't me then what is ?"

Well, he was part of the problem, since Edward really didn't like him and felt scared in his presence, but precisely because of that he wouldn't do anything to displease his colleague. So he decided to be honest and say what in fact had always been his biggest problem.

"It's... that... I... it's... very difficult for me... to interact with others. Not after I know the person... but to start conversations... to impose my presence. I ... I just can't take the initial step. My dad thinks... he thinks I'm a wimp and a... a coward. That's it, it's not you but me... that... I just I am unable!"

"Well, it seems that with the right stimulus you can, after all you just did it. What you lack is a little... aggressiveness."

"I... I could never be aggressive... I'm a pacifist by nature."

"Come on man, all that genetic heritage, you're not going to tell me you've never tried some Kung Fu moves or something like that."

Completed Mike making a stereotypical move. Which for some reason triggered a flash of anger in Edward, a previously unknown feeling in him.

"Hey, not cool, man. I hate those kind of stereotypes, what would you say if I looked at you and started talking about Rap Music or basketball?"

He snapped in a firmer voice than he'd ever had before.

"Whoa, calm down brother. Apparently there's a spark of aggression in you after all."

Mike replied with that characteristic arrogant smile.

"And about your outraged statement. I don't care one bit if you think I like basketball just by looking at me, after all I might be a pro one day. And while I really appreciate the work the brothers of rap do, lately I've been trying to... refine my tastes."

"I…sorry…I've never acted like this before…I don't know what came over me."

"You don't have to apologize for everything Eddie, let alone expressing your opinion, I bet there's a lot of stuff stuck in there wanting to get out, a lot of pent up anger and aggression just begging to be tapped out and I think it's time for you to let it go.”

Once again all Edward did was stare at his colleague while analyzing his own emotions, that outburst was totally uncharacteristic, but he had to admit that at the same time it was... liberating. And digging inside himself he found exactly what his colleague had told him, not an amount, but a small knot of anger, indignation and aggression that he could have sworn had not been there before. But then again it should have been, just intentionally ignored by him, just as the others ignored him. And just thinking about it made that little knot expand.

"And there you go again, talk to me man."

"Will you shut up for a second?"

Edward exploded with irritation and a flash of red anger filling his vision. But instead of being offended Mike just widened the smile and returned:

"That's right, bro. Let it all out, but maybe this isn't the best place. Everyone's looking at you."

Which was true, Edward looked around and saw that he was being stared at by everyone, including the teacher who had just entered the room.

"Is there a problem Mister Chang?"

He asked, causing Edward to blush a shade of red as intense as his rage had been.

"No sir, I'm sorry"

He replied in a firm voice.

"I suggest you save your aggression for the courts or the mats, Mr. Chang."

"Yes sir."

Edward replied, while wondering what the fuck the professor was talking about. To then hear Mike whisper next to him:

"He's right, Eddie. It's time to put that aggression to work and I know the best way for you to do it."

"Yeah, in what way Jones?"

"Meet me at the gym after lunch."

Edward had never even set foot in a weight training gym, but he now really felt the need to blow off some steam, something that had also never happened before. Apparently today was a day of firsts for him.

"Fine."

He answered simply.

"That's my man! Eat a nice meal, loads of clean carbs and a nice steak, you'll need it."

"I'm a vegetarian!"

"Ha, the King of Char Siu Pork son a vegetarian? What a joke!"

"If you have a problem with that keep it to yourself, Jones."

He replied raising his voice.

"Calm down Eddie, we'll figure it out in the afternoon. I bet you'll find we have a lot more in common than you might think."

Concludes Mike with the brightest smile he's displayed so far.

….

At the end of classes Edward went to the school cafeteria with the biggest hunger he had ever felt in his life. As he was away from Michael for the rest of the morning the waves of anger stopped and he felt more like himself again, but the question he asked himself throughout the rest of the morning was whether he was really comfortable with being "himself," voiceless, without initiative, put down by others, including his own father... just thinking about it made him feel that pulsing energy again, coming from that unknown piece of himself that occupied a dark corner of his mind and seemed ready to expand if he gave the slightest opportunity. And as he avoided looking in that direction, he found himself invaded by another sensation, right in the middle of his belly, a hole, giant, growing bigger and bigger, a hunger that seemed want to consume him from the inside. In such a way that he was forced to act again against his habits and run to feed. He was one of the first to get in line to help himself. Dalton had an excellent team of nutritionists and cooks, capable of providing everything needed by the developing young men who attended the school. Edward had always been frugal in his eating, selecting a varied and moderate diet of vegetables, fruits and grains. But not that day. His plate was a smorgasbord of all of these in proportions that could feed three of him in an average day. But he was so hungry at that moment that he didn't mind, just as he didn't mind sitting isolated at a table as he usually did, sitting in the first empty place he found and starting to eat in large quantities the slop that formed on his plate at least until he was interrupted.

"My God Chang, I've seen pigs eat without doing so much damage."

Said a blond portly boy with a southern accent, sitting a few seats away.

"What?"

Edward asked in between mouthfuls"

"A pig, a fucking animal, like the ones my father slaughters."

"Mind your own business, Miller."

"Eating like a pig and now picking a fight with someone who might crush you. Not what I expected from you Chang."

Gregory Miller replied, taking a large piece of steak to his mouth.

Hearing and seeing that Edward found himself invaded by two unheard of desires for him, the one to punch his colleague in the face and the one to steal that piece of meat for him. But he was prevented from doing both by the arrival of a third student at the table.

"Okay, what's going on with you Chang? First that scene in class with the prince of jerks Michael Jones and now this?"

"What's happening is that it seems everyone has decided that today is the day to meddle in Edward Chang's life."

He replied, with the anger rising inside him and being directed towards Jonathan Roberts who will sit right in front of him.

"Come on Edward, you're not like that!"

"And how would you know that? We've only been studying together for two weeks, we're not friends, you ignored me for two weeks! All you know about me is nothing!"

"I... I... you're right of course, but can't you see, Michael Jones is trouble, even more so for someone like you!"

Hearing that made the anger inside Edward boil and boil over.

"Fuck off, Roberts. I can decide for myself what's a problem for me and what's not. And I'm getting out of here before I become a problem for you!"

He said getting up from the table, without looking back, leaving the two colleagues looking at each other with dumbfounded looks.

Edward walked through the cafeteria with firm steps seeing only a big red blur in front of him, and ready to go after the first one who dared to address him. With every step he took his uniform seemed to shrink, the tie around his neck was suffocating him, the sleeves of his jacket constricting his movements, his pants seemed glued to his thighs and his shoes seemed to be at least two sizes too small. He felt like an animal, trapped, tied up, huddled, ready to attack...

"Hey Eddie!"

A deep bass voice echoed through the room causing Edward to immediately turn, ready to attack.

"What?"

"Calm down man I just wanted to know if you want to sit with us."

Asked a smiling Mike Jones accompanied by a also smiling Chad Hartfield, who Edward would have judged as nice if he didn't know what an arrogant asshole he actually was. But Mike had been nice in his own way to Edward that day, so...

"Fine."

Edward replied, sitting down in front of the two of them and the biggest mountains of food he had ever seen, making the plate that he had made look small, a fact that was reinforced by the huge growl that his stomach released at that moment.

"Dude, I said you need to eat if you want to train seriously with me today."

"I ate more than I ever did in my life."

"Your belly seems to disagree..."

"If you'll excuse me a comment, a man needs meat to grow properly."

Chad interjected, popping a chunky piece of steak into his mouth.

"Apparently today really is the day for people to allow themselves to comment on my life decisions."

Claimed Edward, but with his eyes locked on his colleague's chewing. Something that both Chad and Michael did not fail to notice.

"Here, keep my plate, I'll pour myself another one."

Mike said getting up, taking off his jacket and pushing his plate towards Edward, who salivated at the sight of the miscellany of potatoes, rice, vegetables and meat, lots of delicious meat. Still he controlled himself and didn't pick up the fork.

"I was surprised when Mike told me that you decided to train with him today, in our meetings over the years I never thought you would like gym training, Edward. I would have asked you to train with me if I knew we shared that common interest."

"It's because we don't share, to be honest I don't even know why I accepted his invitation..."

"Really? I could swear you already have some training experience, the way your uniform is tight, it looks like you're wearing your little brother's clothes."

"They must have shrunk or something."

Edward replied, knowing that was not possible, as the uniform had been made from his exact measurements and had fitted perfectly in the morning.

"I didn't poison the food, you know? And I can guarantee you I don’t have a contagious disease neither."

Mike said with indignation in his voice, as he sat down at the table again with an even fuller plate than the previous one. Edward simply stared at him without answering, as was his custom, but this time the look he cast in his colleague's direction wasn't his typical shy and embarrassed look, but one of challenge.

"Okay, here, take this one."

Said Michael exchanging the new and untouched plate for his old plate. And taking a mouthful of that delicious looking food to his mouth, making Edward look away so he wasn't staring, which unfortunately made him face the new pile of food in front of him, looking just as delicious.

"What's the matter now?"

Mike asked with his mouth still half full.

"Manners, Michael. I think what Edward means by the silence and the defiant look is that he won't eat."

"Come on bro, if you don't eat it you won't grow."

"And who said I want to grow?”

"If you don't then why did you agree to go to the gym with me?"

"I don't know... to blow of steam I... I guess."

"And what steam will you have if you don't eat, dude? Eat!"

"I already ate!"

"Do you think a handful of vegetables will get you this?"

Mike teased, crossing his arms making his muscles bulge.

"You need meat, the more meat on your stomach, the more meat on your bones! Come on, you know you want it!"

Edward's instinct was to deny it, but the smell of the roast beef, the juiciness of the meat, next to the mashed potatoes felt like a calling. And the size of Mike's flexed arm was also, of another kind, but it was. He felt hunger, hunger for the food in front of him and a different kind of hunger he'd never felt before, something awakening inside him, a companion to the rage that expanded inside him and had grown claws that dug in his very being. But this was different, it was a well, dark and deep, it was hunger and thirst, it was desire. Desire to grow, desire to be a giant like Mike and Chad, and that desire shot through his body like lightning, strangely erotic, until it hit his cock, which instantly became erect.

"Eat, man"

Edward looked back at Mike, who had an encouraging smile and Chad who again seemed to drop his usual superior air, and shared a knowing smile with him. And he felt it all together, the excitement, the desire, the erection and the rage, the hot, searing rage, enveloping everything. He wanted to scream, he wanted to punch the colleagues who encouraged him to betray his principles, he wanted to go to his house and have a fight with his father, demonstrate to the old man that he wasn't a bloody coward. But he didn't do any of that, what he did was take a mouthful full of food to his mouth and chew. And he chewed, initially letting the taste of meat he hadn't consumed in years overwhelm his senses. The pleasure that the food gave him was added to the pleasure that deep well of desire brought him which almost made him cumm in his underwear right there, in the middle of the cafeteria, surrounded by his classmates. But nobody noticed. And he, who a few minutes ago would have been mortified by what happened, barely paid attention. Because a second mouthful followed the first and then many others, fast, full of food, in a frenzy, turning the plate of food in front of him into a kind of sickly porridge. Which Edward looked at with a startled look as he finally set his fork down beside his plate. Had he done that? Eaten all that? What the fuck was going on!?

"Here, drink it, it'll help all that food go down."

Chad said in a much friendlier tone than Edward remembered hearing from him as he handed him a box of milk, which he unthinkingly picked up and downed in one gulp, with milk dripping down his chin, mixing with the food remains that were there and falling on his uniform.

"Who knew you were such a pig, Chang!"

Mike commented with a cheerful mocking tone.

"Fuck off, Jones"

Edward replied, while he began to feel a strange bubbling sensation in his stomach that rose through his chest until...

Burrrp

"Such a pig, Chang! But I expected more from the Pork King's son. Something more like ….

Buuurrrp

"You guys are disgusting."

Chad commented, but with an appreciative smile.

"I'm sorry your majesty if the nouveau riche and the children of workers don't share your elegance."

"Shut up, Michael. I can't believe I'm going to do this..."

Said Chad, taking a second box of milk, emptying it under the watchful eyes of his two colleagues, without spilling a single drop of the contents on his impeccable uniform, returning it to the table and...

Buuurrrrrrrp

"That's how it's done, you assholes. Eddie may be the Pork Prince. But here at this table, I'm the king...."

Buuuuuurrrrrrrrrrp

Edward let out the biggest burp up to that moment, interrupting Chadwick's speech and making the two colleagues look in his direction and burst out laughing, in which he accompanied them for several seconds.

He didn't know why he did all that, none of it was natural, he had avoided meat for years and he was lactose intolerant!!! Although that explained the belching! A thought that renewed his laughter.

As that scene unfolded the colleagues at other tables watched, some with looks of disgust, others admired, others like Jonathan Roberts truly confused with no idea what was really going on there. And neither does Edward. The erotic feeling was gone, the rage was pulsing slowly, appeased and the well of desire was placid, sated by the hour. So was his belly, which was straining the buttons on his shirt and jacket. As he laughed, he felt a feeling he'd rarely felt before, a sense of belonging even though he knew he wasn't like Mike and Chad, that he didn't have their size, their strength, their courage... it made the waters in the well inside him stir as he realized that he really wanted this for himself, wanted to train with Mike and even wanted the company of Chad, which he had avoided for so many years.

"Damn, I really look like a pig."

He said as he wiped the laugh tears from his face.

"And definitely that uniform has shrunk, it looks like I'm all wrapped up."

"Let's do this, first we go to your dorm so you can change in your training clothes and then to ours so I can lend you spare uniforms. They'll be big on you, but that's good, it means you can grow in them."

Mike said, still smiling

"Thanks bro."

Edward replied, which further widened the other's smile.

"That's nothing, bro. Are you coming too?"

He concludes by looking at Chad.

"Go ahead, I'll meet you later at the gym, I won't miss this.”

………

Changing clothes was a bizarre experience. While taking off his shoes he didn't find the small, delicate feet he remembered but two big, smelly ones. Edward didn't have an explanation for that, although a little voice in the back of his head told him it was wrong. Strangely, with his rage asleep he didn't seem to be able to care. The same happened with his uniform, which even ripped when removed, exposing a defined physique. Which made Mike comment admired:

"Wow, man! I had no idea you were hiding the game. You'll have a much better starting point than I expected."

The truth is that Edward wasn't expecting that either, and looked at himself in the mirror.

As he admired himself that voice in the back of his head returned: that's not right you're not like that! Which in turn send a red flash inside his head, causing the rage to take over again.

"Why the astonished tone Mike? You thought I was some wimp, is that it?"

"No man, I'm just glad you have a good foundation to work on."

Edward accepted his colleague's explanation, as he looked for a pair of shorts, all concern with the changes in his body forgotten. His boxers were tight, but he would never take them off in front of another man. Before looking for a T-shirt he took another look at himself in the mirror. Damn, how had he never noticed he was hot?

Edward ended up opting for a tank top that his father had forced him to bring and that he thought he would never wear. But then came the biggest problem, none of his shoes seemed capable of supporting the size of his feet, what the hell was he going to do? That's when he saw Jonathan's closet and with a sly smile grabbed a pair of his roommate's sneakers. Under Mike's watchful eye and equally mischievous smile.

"I didn't think you'd be capable of something like this, Chang."

"I'll buy him a new pair, I'll have to buy new ones to myself anyway."

Edward replied as he slipped on his roomate size 11 sneakers which he thought would be a little big but in reality were a perfect fit. People tended to think that small feet were a feature of all Asians, well that wasn't the case for him, after all at 6 feet tall his base of support should be good.

"I wonder what that crybaby Roberts will say... probably something like: it's the principle of the thing that matters and not the material value!"

"I'll deal with Roberts later, I'm looking forward to getting back to training and I want to see if you're going to be a good training partner or if you are full of bulshit."

"Do you have the nerve to say that to someone my size, scrawny boy?"

"In a fight, size isn't everything, Big Mike."

"I thought you didn't fight... that it was a stereotype and blah blah blah..."

"You think I'm obligated to know how to fight Kung Fu is a stereotype. Which doesn't mean that I don't know how to fight and that what I fight is Kung Fu."

"And what is it then?"

"Soon you will find out."

Edward replied, as memories of hours and hours of training took up a permanent place in his mind where an annoying little voice once dwelt.

….

While the two kept their things in the locker room at the academy, Edwar voiced a question he had been dying to ask

"So what's it like sharing a dorm with Chad Hartfield?"

"I don't know man... He's cool, he asked me to join the Crows and everything. But you've known him all your life, not me."

"We haven't met that often...in fact before today I...well...I kind of avoided him, but now… Like you said, he's cool. I never imagined he was capable of doing what he did at lunch today, You know? Chill Out and just be one of the guys. He always gave me an air of arrogance and superiority...

"Perhaps if you had given yourself the opportunity to get to know him better... and besides, why would he be your superior? Your father is much richer than his."

"That's not how it works, Mike. My father may have more money, but the Hartfields are Old Money, they have a name, status."

"I know that, and you think Chad himself doesn't suffer from it? Do you think he can be the way he was with us today with anyone else? With everyone around him ready to judge him for stepping outside of what's expected? What did he do in front of you today, exposing himself like that he won't do with anyone else he doesn't consider a true friend and you can bet that at the tables next to us there were people in his circle judging him for doing what he did did and he will probably have to pay for it. But I'm actually glad we gave him the chance to be exactly what you said, one of the guys.

"I... I never thought there was more to him than... well... than the arrogant asshole who seems to have the world at his feet."

"Ah, but he really is an arrogant asshole who has the world at his feet."

Mike said bursting out laughing before continuing.

" And that's exactly what I admire about him, he's relentless, ambitious and knows his place in the world, but he's loyal to his friends. The kind of man I admire and want to be. In fact, today I saw some traces of that in you brother, I think you should explore them more."

Traces of that in him? Never! Edward thought, but at the same time he had stood up to Gregory and Jonathan and shared a laugh with Chad and Mike who were exactly that kind of people and there was still that anger boiling inside him... maybe he wasn't so different from Chad after all. ...

"So are we going to wait for him or what?"

"Nah, he catches up with us later, plus I want to see you demonstrate the crane move or whatever you call it."

Edward braced himself for another wave of rage, but this one didn't come, because to his complete astonishment, he ended up laughing.

"Dick."

That's what he managed to say between laughs to his new friend. As he felt his perception of the other change he realized that this is what Mike had become, a friend. A kind of friend he didn't think he could enjoy having so much. Mike didn't care much if he was going to offend someone or not, he said what he thought and if someone got offended… they will have to deal with it. And Edward...Eddie...realized he liked that, that freedom to say whatever he wants to say. There was no need to be offended, it was a silly joke, made in camaraderie.

"What? Want a taste of it?"

Answered his friend, holding his pouch and bursting into a laughter so genuinely that Eddie followed him again without a flash of anger. It seemed Mike and his ways appealed to that new corner of Eddie's personality in such a way that it would take more than a few jokes to rouse the abrasive waves of anger he was now familiar with. And Edward was fine with that, because if he could be honest with himself he was scared of what he was becoming. However, before that thought could gain strength, it was interrupted by Mike

"That's enough, otherwise we'll never train, I thought we'd lift some weights and then you show me some of your moves, no jokes this time, I really want to see what you're capable of, bro."

Said the other boy with his usual smile.

Eddie could have sworn he'd lifted weights before, he had the memories to prove it, didn't he? But as Mike guided him through the different machines and stations it felt like the first time. He would have given up if he didn't hate the idea of being seen as a weakling by his colleague. So every time that cowardly urge to stop took hold of him he gladly embraced the wave of red rage his brain sent throughout his body giving him the necessary strength to continue. Mike's encouragement helped too, ranging from jokes that eased Eddie's tension, teasing that fueled his anger, and praise that softened his ego.

They had opted for a full body workout. Starting with the work on the arms. But when he saw the weight of the dumbbells that his friend handed him, Eddie faltered.

"What? Those weights are supposed to warm you up brother! I thought you knew how to train..."

"Shut up Jones..."

He said taking the dumbbells and starting the exercise. And indeed, with each curl he did the weights felt lighter. So much so that at the end of the series Mike placed dumbbells in front of him with twice the weight, without saying anything, just staring at his friend with a challenging look. Edward in turn responded by picking up the weights and nearly dropping them. Which sent his anger shooting up, giving him the strength he needed to reposition himself and try again.

"Come on brother! I want at least 10 reps, no excuses."

He urged while positioning himself next to Eddie.

"... seven... let's go."

"Talking is easy..."

"...so don't talk man, do it!"

"... nine and ten! Two more let's go!"

"But you said ten..."

"And I thought you weren't a wimp."

Anger exploded inside Eddie.

"I will kill you!"

He said, while doing another curl

"You can try, but first make one more! And... twelve! Hell Yeah! Who's the man, you're the man!"

Mike spoke, as Eddie's anger dissipated, for the joy of having achieved it and for what seemed to be genuine joy in his friend's voice.

"Look at those arms man, you're exercising your constitutional right to own guns!"

And Eddie looked, he didn't remember his arms being that big, it must have been the pump,... although arms that big didn't grow overnight and... whatever... he flexed both arms, that it was so badass!

"Look at this!"

"Yeah, man! Come on, two more times and then triceps!"

After the triceps it was the turn of the shoulders, and the chest. Again Eddie was amazed at the weights that his friend put on him, only to him overcome them with ease and see them being doubled.

"...come on man, even my sister can bench press more than that."

"Shut...up...you piece of shit!"

"...ten, Man Up, dude! Eleven and... twelve! Well done Chang! Now legs! Let's turn those little chicken legs into something respectable!"

"I'll show you what those little chicken legs can do, dickhead"

"I really hope so, because at the moment I'm not impressed. Let's go there, barbell squats and deadlifts and then you can try to fulfill all your empty threats."

"....and twelve! Well done brother! Look at those quads and those calves! They belong to a real man and not a wimp!"

"Who are you calling a wimp, Jones??"

"Certainly not you, Chang!"

Said Mike extending his hand to a High Five that Eddie was delighted to reciprocate. Yeah, he was a real man, more than that, he was a god among lesser men, he thought as he admired himself in the middle of the gym.

"If you're done admiring yourself pretty boy, I think it's time for you to put yourself to the test on the mat."

"Are you sure about that, Big Mike? I'm not going to feel sorry for rubbing your face in the ground just for the pleasure of getting your annoying smile off."

"You might be surprised, Chang."

"Unless you train in some kind of martial art and haven't told me it's unlikely."

"Basketball has always been my sport, bro. I never trained in martial arts and kept off the streets. Still, I want to see you try take all this down."

Said Mike taking off his tank top and showing muscles definitely much bigger than Eddie's.

"I've told you before Mike, size isn't everything in a fight and besides I'm not that much smaller than you."

"In your dreams, scrawny boy!"

Mike retorted, leading his colleague to the mat in one of the multiple training rooms of the giant Dalton sports complex, taking off his sports shoes and socks and putting himself in a waiting position, while he waited for Eddie to do the same.

"Come on, show me all you've got... wimp."

Even though Eddie was no longer irritated by his friend's teasing, he let the anger overwhelm him, this was a fight after all and he didn't lie when he said he wanted to rip off his friend's arrogant smile. He then went all out on him, aiming a punch at the other's face. Who deflected it with one hand as he slapped Eddie lightly across the ear, as if he wasn't even worthy of receiving a real blow, which made his anger boil with indignation.

"That's all you've got, Chang? It’s pathetic!"

"You'll see who's pathetic, Jones."

Eddie replied, the red wave of anger involving everything around him as he applied a kick, once again deflected by his friend, who even took the opportunity to knock him to the ground.

"Like I said, pathetic Chang. I thought you knew how to fight."

"I know!"

Eddie responded by standing up and ripping his tank top off.

"Empty words, Chang. Maybe I was wrong, maybe you have nothing in common with me and Chad, maybe you're just a weakling."

Said Mike while dodging another punch given by Eddie knocking him to the ground.

"I'm not a weakling."

Eddie replied, repositioning himself.

"Then prove, prove that you don't belong there, on the ground, crawling around like a worm!"

"Ahhh...."

Eddie yelled, delivering a new blow only to see him dodged again.

"It seems you are nothing but a coward and a weakling."

Said Mike turning his back and giving the impression that he was going to leave the mat, his face and voice mixing with those of Eddie's father in the red mist of his conscience.

In the middle of it all Eddie launched himself on Mike, trapping his friend's neck in a powerful rear naked choke and then taking him to the ground and repositioning himself on top of him in a mount.

"Who's the weakling now? Huh? Who, Big Mike?"

Eddie asked, full of rage.

"Never turn your back on the enemy, bro. Who's the weakling?"

He repeated, seeming to grow in size, muscles pulsing and swelling. Holding tighter and tighter as his friend tried to free himself from that deadly grip.

"Don't even try to let go, I'm a black belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, you were right, the ground is where I belong. But I'm not crawling, I'm not a worm. No worm is my size."

And he was right of course, he was big by any standard of comparison, giant arms, powerful legs ending in huge feet and a chest bigger than a barrel, and contrary to every stereotype a huge dick and a couple of big balls. Which even motivated his next provocation.

"Hey Big Mike, tell me, how does it feel to have a real man's dick rubbed in your face?"

"Ungh..."

"I didn't understand, sorry, I don't speak weakling language"

"I give up, man I give up."

"Who is the king of the mat?"

"You you!"

"Great, next time save your opinions for the basketball court where it belongs, I'm in charge here!"

Eddie said, finally getting off his friend and letting him recover.

"Wow man, if I had known that I would never have accepted your invitation to train. You fooled me so well."

"I didn't fool anyone, you fooled yourself and I wonder how it ever crossed your mind you could win to all of this!"

Said Eddie showing off his powerful and huge physique to his friend.

"Come on brother, we're almost the same size, but I’m still bigger than you."

"I know, but I'm tired of telling you that size isn't everything in a fight. Even if I were a twig I could still take you out. Ask Chad, he's been following my fights since I started training."

"I know, I know. He told me that, I knew what I was getting myself into, but I still couldn't resist, a mistake I won't repeat. Man, I stink, I need to take a shower before next class."

"Me too...shit, now I'm really going to have to buy Roberts a new sneaker."

Eddie replied showing a torn tennis shoe to his friend, who once again burst out laughing.

"But what was the idea of getting such a small sneaker? How much do you wear anyway?"

"I wear a size 13 but I don't know what happened to my stuff, I think the staff sent my brother's clothes by mistake... so it was either Roberts sneakers or going barefoot but I could have sworn they fit right ."

"Well, now you're going to have to go barefoot anyway, dummy. I could have lent you a pair of mine, but I wear a size 15. Or you could have told Chad, he wears the same size as you ."

"I don't know man, I didn't mean to bother him."

"What are you talking about? You've known each other your whole life, you've been friends since childhood, of course he wouldn't mind! Why you would think that?!"

"Well, so far he hasn't asked me to join the Crows and... don't take this the wrong way, you're a cool and you're his roommate, but given our history I thought I'd be the first to be called."

"Assholes, both of you! Chad was worried because you hadn't asked him in yet, he thought you knew you were in without him needing to call."

"Fuck! I thought..."

"Clearly thinking is not your best asset, Chang"

"Want another demonstration of my best asset, Jones?"

"I'm good man, I'm good."

Mike responded by raising one hand in peace as he called someone with his cell phone in his other hand.

"Hey, dumbass. I thought you were going to come train with your best bros. Ah, an important matter came up...more important than us? We'll show you who matters most. Eddie and I will be waiting for you in the locker room, bring a pair of your shoes because the idiot forgot his. Oh, and bring along a formal letter inviting him to the Crows, because apparently for you rich kids if things are not done formally it has no validity."

"Asshole."

Eddie said, apparently at the same time Chad was saying the same thing to Mike on the phone.

"Oun, how beautiful is the harmony of childhood friends. A tear came to flow here."

He said pointing to his own dick. Though only Eddie could see it and burst out laughing once more.

"See you later Chad. We'll be waiting for you in the locker room, don't forget the shoes for Chang."

He ended it by hanging up the phone and looking at Eddie.

"Problems solved. Frankly, I don't know what you rich guys would do without me. Just don't expect me to wash your gorilla backs, Chang."

“Are you kidding Jones? I bet you'd love the chance to admire a real man."

"You better save your bets for my games or your fights, man. I know that you have a lot of money to spend, but it's better not to waste it on things that will never happen. Also, when I want to see a real man I just need to look in a mirror."

…..

"I thought you'd stick around to help me with Chang's transition."

"I went to make sure everything was going well with Sanchez."

"And?"

"Apparently that sort of thing is to be expected."

"Fine, not pretending I totally understand, but fine."

"Even I don't fully understand Mike. I've prepared my whole life for this and yet I've had surprises. That... clowning... at lunch today, I'm pretty sure I've never done anything like that in my life and yet it came naturally to me."

"I thought it was awesome, I used to have burping competitions all the time with my friends at my old school."

"Disgusting, Michael."

"You didn't seem to think so while you were doing it."

"Yes, and that's what's weirdest, I really enjoyed myself in an unexpected way. But that kind of thing can't happen anymore.”

"Man, letting go a little from time to time will not destroy our plans, on the contrary, I believe that was precisely the moment that secured Chang for us."

"Maybe... then how well did you do?"

"Soon you'll see, but I admit it was... strange, you saw the beginning, but then things accelerated and I... just went with the flow... as if the right words to get the result I wanted pop out of nowhere in my head and... it was bizarre... it was like turning him inside out... you should have seen it to understand."

"I believe I understand Mike."

"No man, there's no way you can understand, not without seeing it. There's no way to fully describe the transformation from a wizened boy to a mean muscle mountain."

"You'll have to trust me on that one. What about the rest?"

"Like I said, it was like he turned inside out, we might have issues with his aggression at some point, but to be honest I liked this new him, liked a lot. He's the type of guy I'd like to have by my side, a bit crude but really fun. And he seems to think of you as a dear childhood friend."

"Great, so now we just need to formalize the thing."

Well, there won't be a better time than now. He's just getting out of the shower.”

"You took your time Chang, I thought maybe you drowned or something."

Commented Chad with the giant totally naked in front of him.

"You should know how long it takes a man my size to wash up, Hartfield. And Jones hasn't even had a bath yet. What was it that the two of you had so important to talk about?"

"About you actually."

"Oh, and may I know what you had to say about me?"

"How my childhood friend could be so stupid as to think I wouldn't invite him to join my club."

"Well, you took your time too Chad."

"Only because I thought it was obvious that I wanted you there, Eddie."

"So I'm in, simple as that?"

"Simple as that brother, what won't be so simple is the task I have to give you, but I bet you'll still enjoy every moment of it."

[gyalwtf]

it's been a while.

sorry if i got the city that kai lives in wrong but i'm more of a fan of beta squad and i just searched up where kai lives 🙁

details ; sharky x fem!reader, reader is an actor, angst to comfort!!

warnings ; cursing and insults, reader has a boyfriend, cheating but not on your end dw, slapping, arguments, alcohol, sex is mentioned but nothing spicy happens

you used to hangout with the beta squad a bunch, like a bunch. being niko's friend from middle school, you were there when niko first met sharky and the rest is history.

ever since you were a kid, you always loved acting, to an extent. you wanted to become an actor and all that and you started your career in your early twenties.

it was maybe two thirds of a year after the actual beta squad channel was made and formed that you got hired for a major acting job over in the u.s, and there was even an acting agency willing to help pay for you to live over in america.

but before that, you used to feature on a lot of beta squad early videos, and you honestly enjoyed it a bunch, and you also enjoyed spending time even more with a certain guy in the beta squad named sharmarke. ever since you first met sharky at that event thing, you just felt drawn to him. little did you know, he felt the same way.

anyway, as much as you didn't wanna leave everyone, you had to for the sake of your career. you could always visit once in a while, right?

over in america, you moved to the house your agency provided which was on the city where your agency was stationed at, but you of course travelled across america for your roles.

one time, at a premier for one of the movies you starred in, you met this guy at the event. he seemed sweet and handsome and you liked him a bunch. maybe his personality reminded you a bunch of sharky, but who cares. sharky was all the way over in the u.k, and this new guy was better. right?

this new guy, he was also an big-name actor. you thought he was so nice, and charming. after a while, you moved in with him in the city of atlanta. which thankfully didn't make you transfer over to another agency just to move to another city.

life was great, but you missed home a lot. despite your earlier belief, it was really hard to get time to go home. when you weren't filming, you were attending events, when you weren't doing that you were filming auditions, and if you weren't doing any of that and working? you were resting and having alone time.

in said alone time, you enjoyed watching your old friends' videos on their channel. you missed them a fuck ton. you talked to them sometimes but it didn't ever feel the same, or even right. you honestly just wanted to skip over to the time that you could meet them again.

you were dissatisfied with life and felt incredibly homesick, it didn't help that in your current 'home' it was always empty as hell. your so called 'green flag' of a boyfriend was never even home, and yeah he was busy, you were both famous actors after all.

after tolerating his bullshit insults, there was this one night where a photo started circling around that was taken from a club, — that your boyfriend of course lied about even going to, and he was caught kissing another girl. not even a peck, a full on fucking make out session was photographed.

you were beyond insulted and hurt, what the fuck is this? the same night that photograph reached the public, was going to be the night you finally confronted him. about all those nights he went out without telling you where, staying out until the early hours of the morning, rumors that he didn't love you anymore. you needed to confront him.

that night, when he got home to the club, and thank goodness he didn't go over to that random girl's place. he walked into the door still drunk, but mostly sober. “ babe?” he called out for you.

“ oh hi! where'd you go?.” you told him, fake happiness in your voice, walking up to him. he looked you with that stupid fucking smile on his face. apparently, he didn't know that the photograph was taken, and he thought he got away with cheating once again. " oh, just to my friend's place, drank a bit and played video games." he lied, going to hug your waist.

you felt the anger rise at hearing his response. how many times has he said something similar to that and you believed him? your tone suddenly switched and you replied, hatred and hurt laced in it now, “ no you weren't. you fucking liar!" you yelled, pushing his arms off of you.

he seemed confused now, " huh? what are you on about, baby?" he asked you, praying that you hadn't found out. you scoffed at his audacity, “ don't call me that. what, did you call that other girl at the club that you kissed baby as well? did you call other girls the sweet shit i thought you only said to me?!” you exploded at him, done with it.

you were in a mess, hair messed up and crying from the hurt you felt. he was speechless, and then he tried to defend himself, “ b-baby n-nothing happened between me and that girl! i swear—”

you looked at him, not being able to believe what he just say. “ be so fucking for real right now! i'm not blind! how long has this been going on, huh? did you fuck another girl too?” you yell, not caring about your volume anymore. you were hurt, and he was over here trying to play all innocent.

“ did you fall out of love with me? couldn't ypu have broken up with me instead? instead of cheating on me with who knows how many girls—” you continued on, before barely even being able to finish your sentence as you felt a harsh sting on your face. he had slapped you?

you looked up at him, surprised. and he just seemed just as surprised at you. “ don't speak to me, ever fucking again. we're done.” you mumble, voice seemingly gone, before pushing past him. the only thing you had with you was your phone. no charger, nothing. thank goodness your phone was at 70% though.

there was a park nearby your house, more like that bitch's house and you went there. unsure of what to do, you couldn't go back. you walked on over there to that park, eyes all puffy and a mess from crying. you went over to the first bench you saw and immediately sat down.

you wanted to talk to someone, you needed to even see someone you loved dearly. you didn't wanna call any of your friends from here in america, you just wanted to go back home at this moment. see your family, see your friends, the people from the beta squad, and sharky too.

until you remember, earlier that day you saw sharky post that he was here, in atlanta. he also was there to surprise a mutual friend of yours — well you haven't talked to him much, but still friend, kai cenat.

you needed to call him, right now. and that you did. you waited, and waited as you called him. hearing the ring tone, you felt like you were waiting endlessly although it was only a few seconds you had to wait.

he picked up and said, “ hi y/n! what's going on?” he asked. your name. you haven't heard him say it in so so long. “ y/n?” he called out to you, as you weren't responding.

you had calmed down a bit but now were sobbing again as you cried, “ s-sharky— can you pick me up? i-i didn't know who else to call!” he immediately got concerned when he heard you crying, his next words were filled with worry, “ y-yes of course! where are you?" he asks quickly and you send him your location.

he books it out of the hotel you were staying at, got a taxi and went over to your location immediately. when you saw that taxi car, you were sat on the bench, knees up, crying so hardly into them, all alone. you looked up from your knees and saw sharky hurriedly exiting the car. you were shaking when you got up from the bench, is that really him? were your eyes just playing tricks on you?

once he saw you, all crying and stuff, he didn't know what came over him. he never quite got over you honestly, no one outside his family and the beta squad knew he liked you, ever since you first met. he immediately ran over and gave you a hug tight, proving he was real. after a moment of shock, you quickly hugged back, crying into his arms.

he wanted to see you as soon as he got to atlanta, but he was busy and so were you, and he really wanted to savor this moment. he hugged you tightly, soothing your hair and comforting you as you cried into his chest. soiling his shirt with tears, which he didn't mind at all.

he wouldn't have cared if you both stared there at that park the entire night, he didn't care if anyone saw, he just knew he needed you, and you needed him even more. you missed him embrace, you missed his voice, his face, you missed everything else, and missed him even more.

you tried to explain what happened, you really did but you kept stuttering and everything. “ shh, calm down. you can explain to me later, i'm not going anywhere.” he told you, as you hugged him the tightest you could. he was right, he was not going anywhere. no chance. he was going to stay there with you until you didn't need him anymore, which meant, that he wasn't gonna ever leave you. and he didn't mind that either.

haha i think this is the longest i've ever wrote for a oneshot! i enjoyed writing this, despite how low i look as i was not really finding motivation to write for beta squad as of late! i hope you enjoyed! this isn't proofread though, i'll check over in a bit and fix any mistakes!

© gyalwtf 2024 - please do not repost, translate or copy any of my works on other platforms without permission.

[agaypanic]

Malcolm in the Middle Simp Headcanons

Masterlist

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***

Malcolm

Probably met you in the Krelboyne class

Very impressed by your brains

Always chooses you as a study buddy or project partner

Holds back complaints about life and shit just to hear you talk

This is very difficult for him to do bc the dude LOVES to complain

Holds your books/backpack for you and walks you to all your classes

Mainly because you have the same classes, but he insists he’d do it even if you didn’t

Learns everything about you and commits it to memory (which isn’t hard because of his memory)

You’re the best thing in his sucky life

Stevie had half a mind to roll away from his best friend as he went on and on about Herkabe. Something about him trying to get Malcolm to sabotage his perfect GPA so Herkabe could keep some academic record. Usually, Stevie would care very much about someone’s academic standing. But right now, he was focused on trying not to kill himself or Malcolm.

“I mean, it’s absolutely ridiculous! He’s using Reese to get me to tank a grade. Reese! It’d work better if it was-”

“Hey, guys!” You bounded towards the two, and Malcolm’s demeanor changed entirely. Stevie was grateful for your arrival because, for some reason, Malcolm lessened the bitching and moaning by a lot.

“Hey, Y/n.” The boys greeted back.

“So, what were you guys talking about?”

“Well-” Stevie was about to snitch on your boyfriend but was cut off by him.

“Oh, it was nothing.”

“Are you sure? You looked pretty passionate about it.” Malcolm assured you it was nothing, but Stevie gave you a look saying he’d tell you about it later. “Okay, then. Wanna go to class?”

“Sure!” Malcolm responded excitedly, grabbing his backpack off the lunch table you were hanging around. You said goodbye to Stevie and made your way to first period. “Want me to take your bag?” He asked but was already slipping the strap off your shoulder.

Reese

COOKS FOR YOU

ALL THE TIME

I’m convinced it’s his love language

From snacks to tide you over until lunch to full-course meals during the rare occasion that you two have the house to yourselves

Will beat the shit out of anyone who messes with you

If it’s a girl, he’ll probably get Cynthia to do it

Your happiness is his biggest priority; he can’t have some idiot messing with that

“Reese, this is delicious.” You moaned as you ate a baggie of your favorite snack that he had cooked up for you. He knew how hungry you’d get from skipping breakfast, so he packed you a little snack bag every day so you wouldn’t be miserable until lunch. He was somewhat surprised that the teacher hadn’t made him stop bringing food to class, but it might’ve had something to do with the fact that whenever you were happy, he was happy. And a teacher would rather have a happy Reese than an angry Reese.

“I think I might make that my go-to snack for you; you seem to like it the most.” You smiled at the comment, giddy that he paid attention enough to know which of his foods were your favorite.

“Well, I like all your food.”

The last bunch of kids filed in, and the last one seemed miserable. Upon closer inspection, you noticed that it was a kid in your class that messed with you frequently. You then noticed that he was littered with cuts and bruises. Immediately, you had an inkling of how this happened.

“Reese, did you do that?” He looked up at the kid, smirking at his handiwork.

“Gotta keep my girl happy.”

Francis

Thinks it’s love at first sight

Francis is such a delusional romantic tbh

If you meet him while he’s in military school, he’s always writing you poems and letters 

Half of his calls home are for you because he just wants to know how you’re doing

If you work at the ranch with him, he’ll pick up the work on your chores if you have something to do

Even if you don’t need any help, he’ll accompany you just because he loves spending time with you

You know those tiktoks that are like “when you and your friend work together, so everything’s a two-person job now”?

That’s him with EVERYTHING

Even if you’ve been together for years, he still tries to impress you with extravagant presents or ideas

You tell him you don’t need/want much, just him, but he thinks you deserve the very best

“Francis, I can do it myself.” You jokingly rolled your eyes at your boyfriend, who set out plates and cutlery for the breakfast buffet. “It’s the easiest job of my day.”

“I just wanna make it easier, baby.” Francis kissed you before straightening the table clothes in the dining hall and on the patio.

“Well, thank you.” You smiled before moving to restock the napkin dispenser. Francis raced to your side, opening the dispenser for you. “Thanks again.”

“No problem. So, I was looking at our schedules, and I noticed we should be done with work at the same time.”

“Oh, yeah?” He nodded, closing the dispenser and positioning it right on the table. “What do you have planned?”

“Not much.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but if you knew your boyfriend well, you knew at least three different activities were reserved for you two now. “Just a couple’s horse ride, massage, and then I asked Otto to make sure that one of the jacuzzis would be off limits. Just for us.”

“Oh, that sounds so nice, honey.” He cupped your cheeks, kissing you deeply, and you were thankful that the guests were either still asleep or doing something else.

“Anything for my favorite girl.”

[lycankeyy]

Okay here's the whole thing I filled out with boyf in-character enjoy his one total braincell if he's lucky. I'm putting zero effort into formatting this bc tumblr is glitchy on my phone blank template is here

(cw: sexual humor. also a bunch of intentional typos and gratuitous swearing)

-

1. Okay, first question: what’s your name, age, and gender?

- they call me boyfriend im 19 and i sap the gender out of the music

2. How would you describe yourself, personality-wise?

- fuckkk man idk. im p chill i think ig im pretty cool. pretty swag pretty gamer

3. What’s a typical day like for you?

- welll I wake up at like. 11 usually at earliest and I hang out w one of my partners sometimes I watch movies w em or work on music. not a lot going on usually

4. How do you wind down at the end of the day? Do you even wind down?

- most of the time i literally just wait until i crash out sometimes gf and peeks gotta drag me to bed lol

5. What is your earliest memory?

- UHHHHH oh god uhhh. I think. When I was like five we went to a festival or smth and we went on one of those twirly things and I made my dad spin the thing so hard I threw up LMAO

6. What is/was your relationship with your parents?

- i mean p good i think but we dont rly tlak anymore thats mostly my fault tho

7. What do you do when you’re bored?

- succumb to the madness mostly

8. Do you regret anything you’ve done?

- i mean not like currently

9. Do you dress to be functional or fashionable?

- bro i wear the same exact fucking outfit every day to be honest with you lol. It's not like I'm fuckin going anywhere

10. Who are your best friends? How did you meet them?

- DUUUDE assuming my partners don't count gotta shout out my man darnell we've been workin on a collab ep recently it goes hard as fuckkkkk. we met back in the stupid therapy program back in middle school he introduced me to pico n nene

11. Have any siblings? If so, what is your relationship?

- yea got a big sister and a lil bro. they're both sweet but kinda clueless tbh. technically got other stuff goin on too but im kinda worried that ill get like the government on my ass if i talk abt it

12. What is your job? Is it tiring or difficult?

- closest thinf ive got to a job is music ig and nah. really wouldn't rather be doing anything else even if it payed more tbh. when I get burnt out I wanna die but thafs not a big deal lmao

13. When you’re going through a rough time, do you seek help or consolation from others?

- on a scale of liek paper cut to nearly died how rough are we talking

14. How easy is it for others to gain your trust?

- ive been told im pretty trusting but i feel like any person whos meant to hurt me was pretty upfront abt it so ┐(´∀｀)┌

15. What is your sexuality, if you don’t mind me asking?

- all the time all the time

16. Do you have a significant other? What are they like?

- "a" singular. lol. lmao even. bros asking if I got one singular partner lmao try two bitch and thyere the best most important people in the world

17. Have you ever lost a loved one?

- not like perminently

18. How often do you act on impulse? Does it ever backfire?

- lsiten if i do it all the time then like statisicly it only backfires like 40% of the time okay

19. Do you believe in ghosts?

- I believe in everyone bro

20. How about aliens?

- aliens are hisyorically very mean to me but ig i can just then believe that they can be better people. or aliens

21. What traits do you value the most in others?

- uhhh probably like being just nice ig? idk i think it can take a lot more effort than people think to be considerate and stuff I appreciate when people are nice even if they have a reason not to be

22. Do you dream often? What are your dreams like?

- i used to not to but somethings happened and now I get them all the time. don't really want to talk about it they're mostly just weird

23. Are you a light or heavy sleeper? Do you sleep in?

- my partners say im such a heavy sleeper that one time i slept through gf falling off the bed in the middle of the night but I was asleep so I can't cofnirm

24. Okay, this is a bit personal, but… Have you ever (uh) “done the do”?

- dude like u wouldn't believe

25. Do you have any pets?

- nah but I think it would be cool to have a guinea pig they seem chill and I appreciate their vibes

26. Ever been drunk before? How often do you drink?

- i try not to toooooooo much but i think i have a hard time telling when too much is too much. dont tell my parents

27. Are you respectful to authority figures?

- they only have as much authority as you give them. manipulate a landlord today

28. What kinds of movies do you like you watch?

- https://youtu.be/HgjyQ0_coJo?si=L5Bzhey5cxaoNpWU

29. Do you have any guilty pleasures?

- ██████ █████ █ ███████ ████ ███ ████ ███████ ███ ████ ████████████ ██ ███ ███ ████ ██ one time nene found it in my dresser and I almost DIED wait was this question not about sex stuff

30. What would you say is the happiest memory of your life?

- ohh thats hard uhh. happiest is hard to qualify i think. I think I'm happiest whenever I think abt waking up next to my partners

31. How about your worst memory?

- thats a good question

32. What did you aspire to be when you were young? Did that dream change as you grew up?

- i didn't think I'd be fuckign anythang

33. How far would you be willing to go to get what you want?

- u gotta quantify what I want here tbh. is it like a chocolate bar or one billion dollars. cuz id kill someone for a billion dollars. honestly i might also kill someone for a chocolate bar but like not as badly

34. What is sure to ruin your day?

- idk nearly dying again probably

35. Do you have any nervous habits?

- uhhh sometimes i mess with my hair and when i get rly upset i pull at it til it hurts. i used to scratch my face a lot when i was upset too but it freaks ppl out so i try not to if i can help it

36. Play video games often?

- i tryyyyy but i get distracted so fast i play a game and im like oh shit this reminds me of another thing i was gonna play n then i go play that and then I never FINISH ANYTHIGN

37. What kind of things do you laugh at?

- https://youtu.be/47EOSLWu-EI?si=kuzPv2Vndl91Oj3C

38. Favorite genre of music?

- BROOOO ok gonna be basic as shit and say breakcore. also a huge fan of speedcore and drill & bass but breakcore is my home. i wishhh it wasn't called this but my favorite like subgenre of breakcore is probs lolicore not for any fuckin weird reason but just bc the way the vocals are usually mixed scratches my brain sooooooo fuking good. listen to various types of ads by loli in early 20s and youll get it. i fucking love experimental breakcore my favorite album rossz csillag alatt született mixes breakcore+dr&b w classical and it's sooooo fucking good it's SO good i need to learn more fuckin instrument plug ins so I can make shit like that. in general i just love music that feels like it's fuckin drilling it's way into youre brain and rewiring it i want the music to fuckin labotomize me fr

39. What do you think your spirit animal would be if you had one?

- idk maybe a rat i like rats. dude imagine if i was a rat like ritz we could have cheese together. we can do that anyway but it would be more awesome

40. Have an accent of any kind?

- yea autism

41. Chess or checkers?

- checkers i have no idea how to play chess but it sounds convoluted as fuk

42. Do you feel sentimentality toward a particular object?

- i love my laptop even if I get a new computer and this thing breaks completely im keeping this laptop ily laptop

43. Are you generally pretty secretive, or are you an open book?

- im like accidentally secretive i dont even try like wtf do you mean im supposed to talk about shit

44. What are you most embarrassed about?

- i feel like this was addressed in the nene thing

45. What are your deepest fears?

- have you ever seen that fuckin brony stuff where people get teleported to pony world as horses gf is obsessed with that kinda thing but that's TERRIFYING if i woke up as a horse id fuckin die of a heart attack

46. How desperate would you have to be to lie to, steal from, injure, or murder another person? Do you do any of those things regularly?

- i like the implication that i would admit to murdering ppl on a regular basis

47. Do you have any scars? How did you get them?

- it's so fucked up i got this scar on my face and it's so bad bc I don't even scar that easy like i get into fights my entire life but i only got one scar just bc some weeb tried to kill me. like ok

48. Say someone has mistreated you in some form. Would you immediately lose your temper, hold a grudge, or simply let it go?

- you wouldnt believe my epic power to do all of those simaltaneusly

49. How do you deal with physical and mental pain?

- max volume noise nothing can hurt me if the Loud

50. What is your ideal place to live?

- never thought abt it tbh ig anywhere with my partners

51. What was your childhood like?

- just 18 years of stupid therapy programs and stupid special ed classes and ppl telling me how to think and how to act and like I was 4 years old forever i don't careeee

52. What is your favorite kind of weather?

- i think snow is pretty

53. How important to you is friendship? What about romance?

- i think they're both pretty great but idk i feel like urself should be most important bc idk shit happens and ppl leave so if you dont like yourself youre just gonna be stuck with some miserable loser who doesnt have any friends as ur only company

54. Have any disabilities, weaknesses, or allergies?

- i feel like in a hypothetical situation i would be pretty weak to godzilla

55. What’s your favorite thing to eat?

- SPICY FOOOOOOOD my spice tolerance fucks hard i will drink hot sauce. right now holdbon

56. Do you have kids? If not, do you picture yourself ever having them?

- could you fucking imagine.

57. How well can you sing?

- idk but i like it

58. Are you particularly confident? Does your confidence level change if less people are around?

- if nobody got me i know i got me

59. Do you like shopping?

- delivery apps were invented for a reason

60. How do you interact with strangers?

- tbh i usually just tune out anyone that's not talking to me LMAO

61. Have you ever been betrayed by someone you loved?

- not like perminently

62. If you could change anything about yourself, what would it be?

- don't like this question

63. If you could meet anyone from the past or future, who would it be?

- fuckkkkk my gf isn't home rn can I pick her

64. If a genie granted you three wishes, what would they be?

- money bigass house and then I wouldn't use the last one so we could just vibe forver

65. Do you like attention?

- ask pico

66. Are you glad I’ve run out of questions to ask?

- ig bc im puttin off chores ily though

[astrangetorpedo]

Julien Baker: Accomplish the Most with the Least

by Zachary Gresham | Photos by Nolan Knight

Julien Baker is more visible than ever. After her low-budget debut, Sprained Ankle, made nearly every best-of 2015 list, the 21-year-old Baker signed with Matador Records and went home to Memphis to record her next record at the legendary Ardent Studios. Turn Out the Lights was released in October of 2017 to massive acclaim from critics, and was met with extreme devotion from audiences. It is the rare record that one can wholeheartedly describe as both monastically spare and cinematically epic, putting her in the heady company of Tori Amos, Nina Simone, and Jeff Buckley. We caught up with Julien shortly after her return to Tennessee from a quick tour of Japan to talk about guitars, Ardent, Craig Silvey, reverb, and doing more with less.

Turn Out the Lights is really beautiful.

Oh, thank you!

I find it difficult to disconnect from it emotionally for a while after I've turned it off, which is the sign of a quality record.

That means a lot to hear. Thank you.

You made it at Ardent in Memphis, but you did your previous album, Sprained Ankle, at a studio in Virginia, right?

Yeah. Spacebomb Studios. Most of the songs on Sprained Ankle were recorded at Spacebomb, but there are two on there (two with percussion, "Vessels" and "Brittle Boned") that were recorded at Cody Landers' house. He's an incredible engineer.

Were you recording yourself before that?

When I was in high school, the band I was in [The Star Killers, later known as Forrister] put out a full-length [American Blues] album that we recorded entirely in Cody Landers' attic. We were all kids, and he took on this project because we were his friends. It was a labor of love, as well as a learning experience. We had no idea what to ask for and what sounded good. It's funny, looking back now on what we were trying to emulate.

What were you trying to emulate?

Well, Matthew [Gilliam] – the drummer and one of my closest friends – our biggest influences are probably Manchester Orchestra and Circa Survive. We wanted to sound big, bombastic, and theatrical, but with sinewy, reverb-y guitars. The other guitarist listened to Wilco, Guster, and folk-adult-rock. It ended up sounding half like Whiskeytown and half like Sunny Day Real Estate. Those are mixed very, very differently. Also, and this is true with youth, is that everything is more exaggerated. You want things as more drastic, colorful caricatures of themselves. I always wanted a 30-second reverb tail on my vocals. The guitars had to be super loud. Matthew had the biggest snare that was sold at the local music store, because everything had to be so powerful. A better way to put it is that it lacks taste or restraint. I learned so much every day, after school sitting in front of Cubase and crafting a record. Before I ever went to MTSU [Middle Tennessee State University], that's how I learned how automation works, why you track drums first, or why you don't want to put a whole bunch of reverb on the drum kit, even though it sounds cool as an idea.

You went to MTSU to study recording?

I did. I went to MTSU because they had a really notable and reputable recording industry program, but my thing was always live sound. There's an audio engineering major, and within that you can specialize in recording arts or live sound. I don't have the meticulous drive to pick apart a waveform in a DAW. I make my own demos, but they're simply for mapping out songs. I can't sit there and master forever. When I was a kid I learned how to use a PA, and then they would let me run the console at shows. I thought, "Well, I could do that. I know how to do simple circuits, so maybe I could work at a repair shop repairing guitars." I went to school to learn that, systems optimization, and building stages at festivals. But because we were all in the same program – all of my friends who were wearing their headphones around their neck and mixing at the campus Starbucks – those were the people who would say, "Hey, I have some extra studio time. Do you want to come in and record?" I think that it is important to keep yourself open to opportunities to gain experience.

You've got to get in there.

Hands-on experience taught me so much. I took so many classes on systems optimization, signal flow, and live sound mixing. But what taught me how to find my way in a live sound setting was doing sound for bands at venues. What taught me how to act, how to vocalize what I wanted, or the protocol inside a recording studio, was being able to spend that time. I think that's a good thing that MTSU gives you. There are resources on hand to take the theoretical knowledge from the classroom and apply it in a real setting. Otherwise, I couldn't have gotten to meet [engineer Michael] Hegner and do the first demos of what would eventually become Sprained Ankle. He was sitting in the library and asked, "Does anybody have a song they want to do? I've got a session in 30 minutes and no one to fill it." I was like, "Yeah."

Of course, you had to put the time into having a song.

I didn't think about that. Writing is always a compulsory thing, so I always have literally hundreds of voice memos.

Is that how you make your demos, just voice memos on the phone?

That's how I make the very first part; the writing process. If there's an idea while I'm playing guitar that I think is worthy of being explored, then I'll make a short little 1-minute voice demo and save it as "cool riff 85," or whatever. Then later it will be fleshed out as a song with placeholder lyrics. I finally took the plunge and got a real DAW. I use Logic now and I do those little MIDI things for keyboards. I can plug straight into a little one-input interface and have my actual guitar sounds from my pedalboard. Before that, I was using a straight-up 2005 Audacity program that I found. It was free. It looked awful. No hate on Audacity. But my version was so old.

It's a great program for cutting up samples.

Yeah. It's really limited. I guess that's how you learn. I was also using a Toshiba computer from 2006, because I held off for so long, saying, "I'm not going to buy a computer. This one works fine." It's so hard for me to give in and upgrade my gear, because I get used to working within the parameters I've become familiar with.

From that perspective, let's talk about going to Ardent Studios. Listening to the record for the first time, I kept waiting for the gigantic production to kick in. Almost all the songs have a moment where I thought, "Here it comes." But it never does.

It's really interesting to me that you say that. I felt self-conscious in the opposite way. I thought, "There're eight vocal tracks and strings, and my buddy's playing clarinet. This is so much." By comparison, it's much more expansive than Sprained Ankle. I was worried. I had this oxymoronic fear that it would be too similar to my past material and also too different, but not in the right ways. I wanted to have it be very dramatic – and have the parts that seem like soaring ballad climaxes – because I'm a sucker for that kind of dynamic. I think it's very emotive. But I also wanted to be careful that I didn't take so much of a maximalist approach that I weighed the song down, or it got to this critical mass where there's too much going on.

That's an incredibly mature perspective. I don't mean this because you're a younger person, but just in general. There are people who never get there.

Thank you. I'm going to acknowledge your compliment; I didn't take it as a thing about my age. But I agree. I think that restraint is such an important skill in music. For a long time when I was playing guitar in a band – and I think this had a lot to do with my insecurities about being a female in a male-dominated scene – but every time we played a show, I had to rip a crazy solo so that everybody knew I was "good." Still, one of my primary lurking fears about performing the material that I have today is that if I have a song that's three chords of quarter notes, everybody's going to be bored and put to sleep. But that's the challenge. Restraint is such an important thing. Just because you have every single color in your palette doesn't mean that every single color serves the painting. I think there are artists where the maximalist approach serves them well. When you think about a Bruce Springsteen record, like Born to Run. Or have you listened to Kimbra?

Yeah. A lot going on there.

Or St. Vincent. There are so many sounds; it's insane. But I think the challenge with my music is figuring out how to make it interesting while still leaving it pretty sparse. It's an interesting interplay. How many points of dynamic can you introduce into the song, as subtly as possible?

Do you go into recording feeling like you're going to do what you do live, but with a little extra?

There was this reciprocal relationship between the live and the recorded for this record. Another thing I wanted was not to say, "I don't know how I'm going to pull this off live, so I'm not going to explore this possibility." Now I do the weird play-guitar-and-piano-at-the-same-time. I decided if I wanted to have clarinet in there, then it'd be worth it to add clarinet. I think I was a lot more particular about the instrumentation on this record because I knew that it would be received in a different way. With Sprained Ankle, I was recording the songs as they had formed in my free time, using my looping pedal or whatever. With these songs, I sat down with a spiral [notebook] and mapped them out. I thought, "This song is tedious. What small embellishment can I add that will change the song enough to re-focus the listener's interest, without detracting or obscuring the totality of the song?" One of the best pieces of advice I've ever gotten was from Josh Scogin [of bands The Chariot and '68]. We were at a show, and we were talking about how The Chariot's records are so interesting. They'll have this incredibly heavy breakdown, but it'll be free with no time signature at all. Or the song will completely stop and then something from Atlanta AM radio will play, and then the song will pick back up. "How do you know to do that? Is it just a novelty, or what?" Josh said, "I think you have to think of what will make people back up the track because they missed a thing." You don't want to make a song that goes on in a predictable fashion without introducing new elements.

You got an incredible guitar sound on the record. You tour with a [Fender] Twin and Deluxe, right?

Yes. We recorded a lot of Turn Out the Lights on my little 1x12 Deluxe, but I also have a 2x12 Blues Deluxe that I took the speakers out of and replaced with Warehouse guitar speakers called Veteran 30s. I got the higher-wattage option because there's way more gain room before it breaks up. My one gripe about Fender amps is that they break up too soon.

By design. A lot of people want blues.

Exactly. I get it. With the Twin, it's fine. It's a really sparkly break up. The Deluxe amps, I like the warmness of them. But when you start to break up such a warm, midrange-y amp, it gets fuzzy really quickly. I really like those speakers in that amp. I use so many of my instruments partly because they sound the way I want them to, but also partly because it took so much work for me to get them to sound the way they do that maybe my goal and my ability met in the middle. Especially with the wiring. I have a [Fender] Telecaster that I modded, and it took so long for me to figure that out when I was 18, trying to read a circuit diagram on how to get your pickups to go in series or parallel, and add that little option with the 4-switcher. Once I finally did it, I was like, "This is what I want, for sure." Whether or not it was what I was going for, I was so committed to doing it.

Do you go back and forth between series and parallel?

No. I have the blue guitar, it's a Mexican-made Tele, and then I have an American Tele, which is the butterscotch one. I leave it on series all the time. You have to put aftermarket pickups in Fender guitars. The Telecaster has the plucky clarity that I like; but I think everybody plays them so hot and bright, because that's the Nashville sound. I thought of Telecasters as country music guitars until I saw Now, Now and Circa Survive on tour. Both the guitarists were playing Telecasters. I was like, "What is happening? How are you guys getting this sound out of a Telecaster?" Then I used my next paycheck to buy a Mexican Tele. I love it.

Were you using Fender amps already?

Yeah. The first amp that I used was this Vox digital combo that was bad news. Well, it wasn't bad news, because I think those amps that have the effects built-in are good for learning. I wasn't playing big shows, so why would I need a $700 amp? The first real amp I bought was the Fender I replaced the speakers in. I had it for a really long time. Then I bought the 1x12 on tour when the tubes of my other amp broke, and now I play through stereo amps. It's interesting that the idea to do that never occurred to me, even though I had two amps on hand. Even on Sprained Ankle, I played through one amp.

You use so much reverb and delay, it's perfect for what you're doing.

Sometimes we'll be at a festival and I'll play through one amp. The way that my looping system is totally jury-rigged, I can use it into the first and second channels on a Fender amp.

It's a wonderful, underused feature, having the two channels on those amps.

It is. So much of my musical knowledge is very de facto and functional, and it doesn't result in a logical understanding of the mechanisms I'm using. On my Deluxe, there're two input jacks. I'd say, "Oh, I always plug into input 2 because it sounds different, and I like that sound." I didn't know until October of 2017 that one of them is high gain and one of them is lower gain. I had no idea. It sounded different. Now I have two A-B-C-Y splitters on my board; I send out from those two channels a dry channel and a reverb channel on one amp, and then yet a third reverb channel into a different amp.

Is the reverb channel 100 percent saturated?

It's all the way on, all the time. The dry channel is there in case the two stereo outs of my looper go off, because I'm paranoid about my loop breaking and there being no safety net for me to play through. I was not always that wise. I have been brought low by humiliation, the great teacher. Now I have one fail-safe channel. The rest of my loops come out on different outputs.

Do you use the amp reverb?

I used to have it pulled up to quarter to two almost all the time, but now I like the flat character of the amp enough, and I have three or four different reverbs. The Strymon blueSky is always on. I forget that I have it on my board, because it stays on. It's the staple of my tone.

I read that you used a [Neumann] U 67 for recording your voice. Is that right?

Yeah.

Did you do a shootout, or did you know going in you wanted a 67?

We tried out that mic because Calvin Lauber, engineer for Turn Out the Lights] suggested it. On Sprained Ankle, I recorded part of it on a [Shure] SM7B. We used a couple of different microphones on that one. I don't remember what the other one was. With the Neumann, I'm very reluctant to use mics with so much crispness, because I think my voice has a tendency to get really nitty and bland.

I respectfully disagree, but go on.

Well, okay. Maybe I'm hyper-critical of my voice. But that vocal mic sounded really nice, especially in the room. Once we started tracking with that, I was like, "Yeah, I'm really, really happy with this vocal sound." It's an incredible microphone. It sounds like it's capturing what's happening to your ears with intense clarity. Whenever I make my little Logic demos, I go in there and notch out 2.5 to 3 kHz, because it sounds really annoying. When I started singing in a band, I wanted the vocals to be pushed all the way to the back and ‘verbed out. I was self-conscious about my voice. I never really wanted to be a singer. I wanted to play guitar. Then our first show came up, and we didn't have a lead singer, so I said, "I'll sing until we find a singer." Then I became the singer. Every single time we performed live, someone would say, "That was really good. You should sing louder!"

Did you try to change the way you sing?

By the time The Star Killers had been a band for a while, I would do the shouty scream thing. But then that became a gimmick of my voice. It was atonal. It was less about the pitch and more about the intensity and having the gang vocals part where everybody sings along. It took touring for a while as a solo musician for me to become completely comfortable with my voice as an instrument. That was also probably because I still smoked at the time we recorded Sprained Ankle. Singing was really taxing on my voice. When I had not smoked for a little over a week, the way that my vocal control and the timbre of my voice changed was amazing. I thought, "This cannot be real." That made me much more confident, and it made me take singing seriously. My voice was no longer just a vehicle for poetry that I was using to "Leonard Cohen" out my lyrics. I think that's also what made recording this record a lot different. I was more ambitious with what I could do.

How long did you have at Ardent Studios?

I booked out six days, intentionally. We ended up staying there 12 hours a day. Time flies when you're in the studio, because it's fun, and exciting, and interesting. I think I limited it that way because of that fear of overproducing the record. If I gave myself too much time, I would fall into a paralysis of option anxiety. In hindsight it might have been good to have a deadline, but also take a rest. Record for a week, take a month off, let the tracks sit, and then come back with fresh ears. Maybe I was over-restrained, like I was overcompensating for my fear of overproducing.

It sounds like discipline is a huge part of your whole process.

Oh, definitely. I talk about this with so many of my friends in music. This land of words like discipline, motivation, and obsession are all fluidly bound. For any of the players on the record, like Cam [Boucher] from Sorority Noise, or Camille [Faulkner], who tours with me, the way that those people interact with music is almost obsessive, but in a way that drives them to be the most optimal players they can be. Not in a competitive way. I really don't think that trying to be the best you can be means that you have to be obsessed with being the best musician out there, or being superior.

It's its own reward.

Exactly. I think the fact you say that discipline is a huge part of the record is because maybe it wasn't that I had to apply an effort to sit down and map out the songs in a spiral notebook, or think about them and listen to them over, and over again. It's what preoccupies my mind all the time, so the only way to abate the anxiety of creating is to be engaged with it. But, at the same time, that's why I only wanted to book out six days. It's really important to get a great raw sound. We did a lot of setting levels for what would basically be how the record sounded.

It's a huge advantage not to "fix it in post."

Exactly! Get it right the first time. This thing that Calvin and I would say to each other all the time is, "It's worth it." When I would record a vocal track and it was almost what I wanted, and I felt I could live with it, we could nudge a note, or we could comp it. But I had the time. I'm not flying out to L.A. to do a two-hour recording session and we have to comp it. We had the time to get it right, and it's worth it. We ended up tracking a whole bunch of weird piano, guitar, and keyboard tracks that didn't make it on the record. But what if it had been awesome? It's worth it. When you start with good ingredients and you do less work on the back-end to try to wrangle it into sounding good, it's so much easier. And it sounds very pure and more organic, because I think you can tell when a song has had to be manipulated.

You can. It's almost never going to be as good as it would have been.

Exactly. There are so many great records that are tracked live. That's how recording used to be. Now I'm going to sound like one of those people who thinks that antiquated methods of recording are the only way and swears by tape only. No, there are amazing things we can use Pro Tools for. But I think the ethos of old-school recording is getting a great live sound. I watched a documentary about Tom Dowd [Tom Dowd & The Language of Music]. He plays the faders like a keyboard. It's so cool. Whenever I watch those documentaries, I'm amazed at that process, because it's happening to those people in real time; it's just their job. They have this very colloquial relationship with the music. Chilling out with Aretha Franklin and not knowing that it would change history. What I think you glean from those is not that it was better in the past, and we should only record to tape, and only use old vintage equipment. I think the process is that you should be able to accomplish the most with the least. You should know how to utilize a room, or you should know when it's enough. I think sometimes the necessity of having only four tracks, or having only eight channels, or what have you, makes you be more discerning. The options aren't endless. The time is not endless. You make a leaner, refined version.

Craig Silvey mixed Turn Out the Lights?

Yeah. We had a mixing day with Calvin; then he and I shot some mixes back and forth. I had very specific things I wanted out of the mix. It was really observable what Craig changed, but he didn't necessarily remove or add anything. I was amazed at how much he was able to add to the tracks. I think the people we involved on the record were all ones we wanted to use, either because of their prior work, or our prior history with them, indicated that they know how to be tasteful. Especially with Craig Silvey. I knew a few of the notable records that he had done, like Arcade Fire, but when I started to look at the breadth of the work he had been a part of, it was amazing.

Did you choose Craig, or did Matador say they wanted him?

Matador brought the idea. I was reluctant because I wanted the least tampering. They said, "We have this guy we think you'd really like. Give it a chance." I'll give anything a chance; but if I didn't like it, I was ready to say, "No." We sent a test mix, and when I got it back, I was like, "We should have the record mixed by this guy." It was ultimately a collaborative effort between Calvin being so personal and central to my life as a person and a friend, and knowing what I wanted, as well as Craig's expertise and impeccable ear. It made for a really special thing.

(link)

[nat-space-obsessed]

"I'm 23." "No, You're Not."

Crossposted on AO3!

It turns out to be very hard to get a tattoo when you look eternally 14.

Prompt by @charcoalhawk

"Kid, You're like twelve. That's a fake ID. I'll get in trouble if I let you get a tattoo here." 

"As I said, I am literally 23. I've been 23 for five months now. It is on my ID. I swear to you that my ID is real." Danny repeated for the third time that hour. 

Danny had been going to get a tattoo, his second, actually, and both times so far he had come across one issue: 

His eternally 14 year old face. 

"I told you, this can't be a real ID, you look twelve."

"I look fourteen, thank you very much."

"You realize that doesn't help, don't you?" The girl behind the counter retorted. 

No, it doesn't. 

One thing about being immortal is that you forget that you are immortal. Danny's ID has his birth date and his current photo. It's not his fault that he looks fourteen!

Actually it is. He's the one who died. 

"If I told you it's a health condition, would you believe me?"

"Not without a doctor's note. Either way, kid, even if you are somehow older than 16, you can't get a tattoo even with parental consent. We live in Illinois."

Danny hated being locked out of things due to his perceived age. Even when he was in college, and all of his classmates thought he skipped a bunch of grades to get where he was. Every time he met someone new he had to go through the same spiel. 

'I'm nineteen, yes I look young, it's a medical condition, yes I am in my second year of college' yadda yadda yadda. It had been four years and it only got worse. 

It was worse when he was going to different age restricted places, such as bars and tattoo parlors, which thought that he was a literal kid. 

"Look. I already have a tattoo, isn't that enough??"

"How do I know you didn't have a friend do that for you, huh? I remember middle school with all of the stick-n-pokes."

"Does this look like a stick-n-poke???" No, it doesn't. It was a full color three quarter arm in a neo-traditional style. It was a ghost, because he loves his irony. 

Danny kept staring at the girl behind the counter, not blinking the whole time, as she stared at him incredulously. 

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave if you keep being a problem."

"I'm not being a problem! You're the one who isn't listening as I try to explain my situation!"

"Kid, you aren't going to get a tattoo from this place." She sighed. "Look, I can call my boss and she can make the final call on it." 

"Yes! Please! Do!"

The girl in front of him walked into the back room and called a name that Danny hadn't heard since high school. "Hey! Star!"

Wait, Star? 

"What is it now, Kay?" A familiar voice rang out, in an exasperated voice. 

"Look, there's this kid at the front who says he's 23, he has an ID that looks like it checks out, but he looks twelve. Literally twelve." 

"God, Kay. Just tell him no!" A woman walked out from the back room, and looked at Kay, then made eye contact with Danny.

"Wait, FENTON? Damn, you literally haven't changed since freshman year!" The blonde girl laughed. 

"Star! It's been so long, I can't believe you recognize me!" Danny smiled. "You started a tattoo parlor?" 

"Yeah, after high school, I decided to apprentice at that one parlor down the road from school? Yeah you know the one, right?"

"I got my first tattoo there! this one," Danny pointed to his three quarter. 

"Was it James? I apprenticed under him." Star smiled at Danny. 

"Wait, Star, you know this kid?" 

"We went to high school together. I was a bit of an asshole, but we made up at the end of senior year! We'd all been through a lot together, you know what they say about trauma bringing people together!"

Danny smirked at Star. "You still in contact with Paulina?" He started, "Have you heard about her new girlfriend?"

"Oh yeah! We had a double date not too long ago, you know, me and Kwan."

"I always thought you and Kwan would get together! You guys were always pretty good with each other."

"WAIT, wait wait, so Star, he's not lying about his age??" The girl behind the counter said. 

"Yeah, he's looked that way since freshman year, some sort of medical condition, right?"

"It was a whole thing in senior year, we were comparing yearbook photos, it was so funny to see Dash freak out like that."

Danny and Star laughed at the memory. 

"So, can I get my tattoo now?" 

"Oh for sure! I'd love to get you started on that, do a quick consultation." Star led Danny to her office in the back. 

The girl at the front counter grasped her head in frustration. 

[peachjagiya]

I've only seen clips but...

Jimin saying he has not snowboarded in 7 years. Then says he went with JK when the only time JK went was during hiatus when they admitted they did not see each other. Then he says he was mistaken it was with JK's friends??

Then you have him wanting to have a love song as the theme song for the show?

Jimin also seems throws himself on Junkook a lot when he has no shirt on. So touchy.

I want to pass them off as jokes but it honestly feels like Jimin is consciously feeding shippers.

I do not want to get you any hate on your page so don't post this if you feel I am too negative or you dont want angry traffic. I just want to know if I am I missing something or reading this wrong? Did you see it as silly banter with no shipping implication? I know Jimin has a habit of flirting with JK but at this age and this bizarre. I dunno anymore.

Just to be clear: I have seen 20 minutes one end and 30 minutes the other. 40 mins in the middle was school run.

I read it as banter that is a hangover from a time when perhaps they were more engaged in fanservice. (That's fanservice in the context of k-pop where everyone does it and it's not a criticism.)

Jimin saying he has not snowboarded in 7 years. Then says he went with JK when the only time JK went was during hiatus when they admitted they did not see each other. Then he says he was mistaken it was with JK's friends??

Ok so I think we need to just assume Jimin was mistaken? Like in the same breath he realises he was mistaken so let's just take that as it is. It does us no favours to discredit him when he's literally there saying he was wrong.

Because what you'd have to believe for this to be conscious shipper feeding is that Jimin made that trip up and I actually don't think anything is made up. I think certain details are amplified, certain angles are shown, certain pictures emerge. Like, for example, Yoongi being with Jimin either in person - there's evidence to suggest in person - or on the phone on Billboard Hot 100 Dynamite night but it evolving into "I was with Jungkook."

It's twisty but I don't think it's point blank lying.

The problem is the shippers who aren't activating their critical thinking and running with the idea that Jimin was hanging out with JK's friends without him and that means they're married.

Assuming this trip was one event, 7 years prior to 2023 was 2016. Didn't JK first start hanging out with his 97 Liners in 2016? So when he says JKs friends... yeah sure, in retrospect they're his close friends but possibly less of an established relationship in 2016, no?

Taekook moment: I feel like hanging out with Tae's best friends of 7 years when you're in your mid 20s and they're in their 30s is a super different vibe to a bunch of idols hanging out in their youth but I am biased and can't be trusted. haha. And less said about it being snowboarding the better really. 🤐

I didn't see the bit about a love song. Sounds like a joke though.

Jimin also seems throws himself on Junkook a lot when he has no shirt on. So touchy.

I did see this bit. I think that's just Jimin and the shirtlessness is just secondary. I don't think it's particular to JK. Whether or not JK is that happy to be touched depends on the moment, it seems.

The whole show has an awkward vibe of being a hangover from people they no longer are. It was my opinion after NYC, it was my opinion for Jeju and it remains my opinion now.