#these three are among the hottest guys

[rinseis]

PLAYING FAVOURITES — GOJO SATORU

❥ gojo satoru is one of the most popular names in japan. when he becomes a judge-slash-leader on a dance show, he takes an abnormal amount of interest in you, making everyone else effectively jealous of you. problem is, if either of you want anything to happen, you have to keep it hidden from public eye. you think it’s best to wait, at least until the show’s over, but unluckily for you—gojo has always been impatient with what he wants.

word count. 5.9k ♱ content warnings: female reader, modern au, celebrity!gojo, dancer!reader, scandals, gojo is kinda a lot unprofessional, nsfw - mdni, porn with plot, mentions of BL, alcohol, gojo eats you out, penetration, fingering, orgasm denial, no condom was used (you kids stay safe, use condoms), pet names (baby, pretty, princess), geto sees you naked, slight action on a motorbike, mentions of masturbation/vibrators. mdni banner by @/cafekitsune :)

Fame, wealth, prestige.

Over three million followers. Everyone either wants him or wants to be him. Always decked out in his sponsors’ clothes—this season it’s Chanel. One of the favourite faces for Vogue. Praised as an all-rounded genius; there’s rarely anything he can’t do, being a model, actor and dancer with hobbies ranging from skateboarding to professional motorcycle racing. There’s nothing that Gojo Satoru seemingly lacks.

Except maybe in the professionalism department. And that’s only because he met you.

Being the judge in a dance competition that’s being broadcasted internationally comes with a set of unspoken responsibilities, namely: you do not sleep with any of the contestants. It’s not his first time on this show, so he already has a reputation built as the strict but kind and professional judge (and also the hottest one to grace everyone’s tv screens). But since week two of knowing you, he’s already crossing boundaries—putting his work ethic to the test.

When the team he has to train celebrates their earlier victory against another, he treats everyone to drinks at one of the most bespoke places in Tokyo, holding it in a private room away from paparazzi eyes. Gojo makes sure you sit right next to him too, because like hell is he letting his favourite be at risk of some other guy’s touchiness.

Not him though. It’s fine if it’s him.

As everyone gets talkative and debating among themselves about who’s the better dancer, Gojo takes the chance to lean closer to you, his hair brushing your face. You stiffen up a little, in that adorable way he likes whenever he’s near (because you’re a fan of him before this, he knows—he can tell), before you ultimately loosen up as he puts a soothing arm around your shoulder.

“Not feeling so well today?” He asks, because you’re particularly quiet tonight, more so than usual, and he’s curious. He’s always curious about you.

You chuckle, taking a swig of your beer. “Just tired out from earlier,” you tell him, and he guesses it’s because of today’s recording. Gojo knows, of course, because he pays special attention to you.

He watches every move you make, every smooth curve, relishes in your movements, especially when you dance to an especially sexy song. Gojo isn’t so subtle either, always cheering after you end your set, always making comments that the editor would probably have to cut out most of the time, praising you with words like i could watch you… dance all day and every time you dance i fall in love all over again. (With dance… of course.)

So much so that every other contestant there is envious of the attention to detail you get when it’s Gojo’s eyes on you. They can only dream of it.

“How’s your legs? Heard they cramped up earlier,” he asks, daring to put a hand on your thigh, gently rubbing up and down, the hem of your skirt reacting to his movements.

You nearly choke on your drink, but you don’t reject him anyway—letting him rest his hand on your inner thigh. By the looks of it, you’re enjoying it too, aren’t you? That smile you’re suppressing isn’t very convincing if you aren’t.

But Gojo likes to be a little piece of shit, he likes to play games first—and he wants to play with you, because he thinks you’re oh so pretty and oh so talented, and you’re kind of fiesty too, during training, making him question all the boring models he’s ever dated just for their bodies.

Are you going to be the same? That’s what he wants to find out.

When the celebration ends, he makes sure he sends everyone on a cab back to the recording building, the residential apartments sponsored by the show being right next door to it. Except for you though. He holds you back from entering the last cab for the group, knocking on it to let the driver know to drive off.

Then, with a devilish grin on his face, he grabs a spare helmet and offers it to you.

“Wanna ride?”

Ten seconds later, you’re riding pillion, holding onto Gojo because you’ve never ridden on a back of a motorcycle that’s going this fast before. You should’ve known, really, because what other speed would an adrenaline-loving professional motorbike racer drive on? Judging by the look of his bike, it’s probably not actually allowed to be usable on the actual roads too—it should only be driven for races.

Not that Gojo cares, because he knows he’s the best and he wouldn’t let you get hurt. You thank god he chose not to drink tonight. You wonder if he drinks at all, now that you think of it. But Gojo accelerates and all your thoughts go out the, well, wind? You hold onto him tighter, and you swear you can almost see a smirk if not for the helmet in your face. He’s not even wearing a helmet, for fucks’ sake. Just how much of a daredevil is he?

To his credit though, he manages to get you to the destination safely, without a hair out of place for him because somehow, no matter what he does, he always looks drop-dead gorgeous. Talk about being born with good looks, good body, good everything. No wonder all the luxury brands are scrambling to be his sponsors. He could probably make trash bags look expensive.

When you get off, you realise that you’re not at the usual building, with grey walls and a shoddy exterior. This time, you’re face to face with a sleek black high-rise hotel, the kind that you think probably only the elites in society can afford. Just when you’re about to question Gojo on his intentions, he cuts you off.

“Do you mind? This place belongs to my friend, just gotta check in on him for a bit,” he tells you, looking at you expectantly, as though he’s daring you to say no. But you gesture for him to go ahead, and that shit-eating smile is back on his face.

Once you’re inside, you’re met with a floral aroma that’s not too pungent, the entire lobby enveloped in a bright warm light, filled with attendants who bow at the sight of Gojo Satoru strolling in, decked head to toe in Chanel (of course), who in turn ignores everyone else and pulls you by the wrist with him.

You sit by the bar as you wait for Gojo to finish conversing with his friend, who’s sat in the far corner of the hotel restaurant, table filled with paper and files that you’re not envious of. The life of the rich seems too complicated for you. You’re happy just being yourself and enjoying trying to make a living out of dancing.

From the corner of your eye, you can faintly make out his fox-like eyes, jet black hair—he’s a stark contrast to Gojo, who seems to be more rainbows and sunshine. You don’t know what his name is, but he gives you a smirk when he catches you staring, and you abruptly turn away, embarrassed from getting caught.

“You here with Gojo Satoru?”

The bartender appears in front of you, looming tall as he looks down at you. He has jet black hair too, but he’s more buff than Gojo and his friend—the type who looks like he can manhandle you if he wants to. That scar on his lip makes him look dangerous. A white rag is slung over his shoulder as he uses it to wipe the glass down.

You nod, trying not to appear too friendly. You never know what these men might be thinking. “Yep, but I’m just a nobody so don’t worry about me,” you tell him once you realise he’s pouring you a shot.

The man scoffs, his voice getting even lower. “Nobody that’s around someone like Gojo Satoru is really a nobody,” he tells you, sliding the shot glass over the counter.

You’ve already drank a lot earlier, but you can hold your own, so you accept it anyway, with the plan of asking to put it on Gojo’s tab if they ask you to pay. You think a single shot here can cost at least three hours of your wage.

“So you know Gojo well, then?”

Admittedly, a part of you is curious to learn more about Gojo. The one every tabloid uses to boost their viewers, and the one who seemingly dates a new girl every other month, and the one everyone somehow either wants to be, or wants to get with. You included, if you’re not being in denial.

“Only as much as I observe,” he tells you bluntly. The only reason he’s talking to you is probably because he’s bored out of his mind since you’re the only one there apart from the other two guys.

So you decide why not? You don’t think you’re about to ask Gojo about himself, so maybe the bartender is the next best thing. “Do you happen to know why he doesn’t drink, uh—”

“Toji.”

“Toji.”

“Simple, he’s a lightweight, that’s all,” Toji tells you, rolling his eyes. “Took him two shots to get tipsy and by the time he took the third shot he was all whiny and ended up throwing up in that pot over there,” he nudges his head toward the plant nestled at the corner of the bar, his irritation earning a snort out of you. Judging by his tone, he probably had to be the one to clean it up.

“Hey, are you shitting on me to my student?”

Gojo’s behind you before you know it, an arm slung around you as his friend takes to the other side of you, showing you an interested gaze.

Toji barely pays Gojo any mind, putting away the glasses. “Ah, Satoru, looks like you got a new favourite huh?”

The way he says new favourite implies there’s an old one, and going by the news you’ve seen of him circulating online, there’s not really anyone that qualifies, with every relationship being such a short fling. Is that what Toji means or is he hinting at something else?

It’s like Gojo can sense the gears turning in your head, so he gives you a quick flick on the forehead before turning his attention back to the bartender. A childish grin appears on his face, one that you’ve never seen him show on tv before, or throughout recording. “How about you give us each two shots?”

“No.” Toji’s refusal is quick and crisp clear.

Beside you, Gojo’s friend snickers, amused as he swirls his own liquor of choice in his glass. “Satoru, stop trying to bully my bartender into quitting.”

“Then try to hire a more competent one,” Satoru sneers, Toji’s deadpan expression and Satoru’s childish one on par with each other.

Ignoring them, Gojo’s friend reaches his hand out to you, a friendly smile on his face. “I take it you’re Y/N?” He asks, and you nod politely, shaking his hand. “Geto Suguru,” he introduces himself, and your ears perk up, somehow finding that name familiar.

“Heard of him?” Toji asks you, entirely ignoring Gojo now, who’s pouting as he reluctantly takes a seat beside you. When you struggle to place it, Toji helps you out. “He’s an actor too, played as Satoru’s lover in one of the dramas.”

Your eyes widen as Geto suddenly looks exactly like the character he was acting as, his face growing more familiar by the second. He groans, rolling his eyes, and Satoru’s on your other side faux gagging with his tongue sticking out.

“Don’t remind me,” Geto sighs just thinking about it, “we had that entire fanfiction saga after that ended, too.”

When you turn to Gojo, he only side eyes you and tells you, “don’t even ask.” So you make a mental reminder to google it yourself later.

As much as you like socialising with celebrities that are way above your status, you feel the sleep catching up to you, the exhaustion from earlier creeping its way back in.

“I think I’m just gonna head back first,” you tell Gojo, finishing up your drink and getting up, but Gojo’s big hands find you first, holding you in place. It’s kind of hard not to let your heart flutter when you’re in such close proximity with someone who’s too utterly gorgeous for his own good.

Gojo opens his mouth just briefly before holding himself back and then just offering a smile. “You tired?”

You want to say you’re not, because if you’re being honest, you don’t get opportunities like this often, this being the first time you’ve actually had proper alone time with Gojo outside of your training, and even that you were surrounded by cameras watching your every move.

“Kinda,” you settle for, and it’s like Gojo senses what you’re thinking of that he offers you a cheeky smile.

With his fingers around your wrist, he pulls you with him as he exits the bar, an amused Geto left behind, whispering something you can’t hear to Toji, who shakes his head as though he saw this coming.

“Where are we going?”

When Gojo turns around and winks at you, you can only hope he doesn’t actually feel your pulse racing from where your hands are linked. It’s honestly irritating just how charming he can be.

He’s quick on his feet, the light reflecting off of his studded jacket as he drags you with him across the lobby to the lift, swiping a card and then pressing for the rooftop, the glass elevator smoothly bringing the both of you up. You turn around to face the view of the city, and your eyes light up.

It’s not like you’ve never seen the Tokyo skyline before, but to see it like this; undisturbed and in the company of someone you admire—it feels kind of unmatched.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Gojo’s voice flows through your ears like honey, his eyes piercing even as you look at them through the reflection on the elevator window. You only nod, mesmerised by both the view and the person. “I convinced Suguru to buy this place and make something out of it, used to be just an abandoned building at one point.”

And now it’s one of the most prestigious hotels in all of Tokyo, with a view that’s hard to beat, and a rooftop that’s entirely too beautiful that you wonder how long they spent just on the design alone.

The scenery distracts you from the fact that Gojo’s fingers are intertwined with your own as he brings you onto the rooftop, walking you to a corner where a thick wooden table sits, a single wooden ashtray in the middle.

Gojo lets go of your hand to sit on the table, feet propped up and body leaned back on his palms as he smirks to himself, satisfied that you find the view just as nice as he does.

You’re completely absorbed by the scenery before you, leaning against the edge, wide starry eyes looking at every thing in sight. Gojo wonders if you know how pretty you are, if you know what you do to him. Every single time he sees you, he has to hold himself back from acting out of line thanks to all the cameras surrounding you. That, and the warning given by the producers to keep things professional.

But Gojo thinks fuck being professional, because neither of you are being watched right now, and he knows he’s not the only one out of the two of you that’s aware of the chemistry between you. Your lingering eyes, the way you always look out for him, the way you willingly let him cross the line sometimes.

Slowly, he comes up behind you, mirroring your pose, arms leaning against the edge too, enveloping you in between his body. It’s shameful really, that if you didn’t have restraint, Gojo won’t have it either, but it’s all up to you. His right hand comes up to brush against your cheek, and he can tell by the muscles on your shoulders that you’re stiffening up—he’s been paying attention to your body way too much. He can argue it’s his job, but never when it comes to you.

Even now, when he’s so unashamedly staring at how your top hugs your body so well, how your skirt is at a length tempting enough to hike over your ass. Just imagining what you look like underneath all that is enough to make him hard, his hips instinctively closing the gap between you.

Your head’s been muddled for a while now, and you gasp at the feeling of Gojo against you. You’ve thought of this situation before, of the physical attraction between you and Gojo coming to a head, but you’d always thought to leave these kinds of things until after the show’s over. Seems like Gojo has the opposite thoughts, those same views seeping into your own head, making you reconsider, and it looks like he’ll come out on top.

You can’t help but let out a whine as you feel his big hands on your inner thighs, beckoning you to spread them for him. It’s pitiful how easily you obey, and Gojo is just as desperate, your stomach being pushed further against the edge of the railing.

In spite of it all, Gojo’s trying his best to limit himself to this, his hands squeezing your thighs in frustration. “Fuuuck,” he groans as his fingers sneak up against your underwear, feeling how wet you are already. “If you don’t stop me I don’t know if I can control myself.”

It’s really unfair of him to say that, you think, when he’s the one who’s been coming on to you. Still, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying this, if you said you didn’t want this too.

“You’re supposed to be the teacher, shouldn’t I be the one following your lead?” You ask back, breathless from how Gojo’s already rubbing circles against your clothed clit, his dick only getting harder as he continues to press himself against your ass.

If you were being completely honest, you’d been waiting for this for a while. An entire month feeling the tension between the two of you without acting on it. An entire month of dancing together, training under him, sometimes with his big hands on your waist and you having to pretend that this doesn’t affect you at all. Your patience is wafer thin by now, and Gojo’s is probably even thinner.

You hear Gojo suck a deep breath before he forcefully turns you around, his half-lidded eyes filled with lust. Your gaze falls to his pants, the outline of his dick way too obvious against the expensive fabric. You swallow the lump in your throat; he’s so big you wonder if you can actually take him.

With a smirk, Gojo sneaks his fingers back up under your skirt, pressing against your clit, “just wanted to see what you look like when you feel good.”

This scene is so surreal that you wonder if you’re dreaming. Renowned celebrity Gojo Satoru who’s famous enough to be a household name with a fairly decent reputation is actually here with you, right now, aching for you so badly that he can’t control himself?

“What are you thinking about, pretty?”

His nicknames are going to be the death of you. He’s been controlling himself until now, so you’re not surprised if he’s pulling out all the stops tonight.

Your own eyes mirror his expression, the desire no longer tolerable to control. Usually you’re fond of playing games but this time you’re way too impatient to wait any longer.

“I think… I want you,” you tell him honestly, and for a brief moment you think you see the pupils in his serene blue eyes dilate before his gestures turn feral, his hunger blatantly obvious in the way his hands grip your waist, firm and strong as he kisses you, hips grinding desperately against you, chasing the friction he so badly needs.

“Fuck this is gonna be so bad if we get caught,” he mumbles in between kisses, both of you entangled with each other, your fingers grasping at his hair, his own hands squeezing your ass as he groans at how perfect this feels.

In the moment, you think you couldn’t care less. “Guess we just have to make sure we don’t get caught,” you tell him, and you feel him smirking against you.

“Knew I liked you for a reason,” he chuckles, lifting you up to sit on the edge. He can tell from the way your body reacts that you’re nervous. “Promise I won’t let you fall. Trust me?”

Do you even have any other choice?

You nod, and his childish grin gives you a whiplash. “Ha, good girl,” he praises you before kissing you silly, his one hand holding you in place while the other slowly slips your underwear off, discarding it to the ground. Gojo looks up at you one last time as though making sure you’re sure about this, and the moment you nod, he’s on his knees, trailing kisses on your thighs.

The only thing you can do is watch as he gets dangerously close to your cunt, beautiful eyes watching your expression as he gets closer. He always likes to look at you. He wants to observe just how insane he can make you feel. He wants to know just how badly you want him too.

His strong hands push you forward slightly, his head completely between your thighs now as he gives your clit a small lick, enjoying the sound of you squealing when he does so. He doesn’t hide his mirth, chuckling as he dares himself to taste more of you, licking a fat stripe up your pussy, groaning from how good you taste. Better than he imagined. Better than when he jerked off to you that one time after rehearsal. Better than anyone.

Your fingers yank at his soft white locks as he loses himself in you, groaning in satisfaction as his tongue flicks in and out of your warm pussy, your thighs locking around his neck, your hips grinding against his lips and begging for more.

“You’re driving me fucking insane, you know that?” Gojo asks, his eyes failing to watch your expression now that he’s busy staring at how wet your pretty little pussy is.

From above, you relish in the way Gojo can’t seem to get enough of you, his lips filled with your slick, cheeks and ears red from whatever he may be feeling. It’s a side you’re sure that’s hidden from public, and call you silly but you think that kind of makes this special somehow.

He doesn’t spare a second in standing up and lifting you off the edge, letting you down gently on the table, flicking the ashtray away. Gojo’s hands slowly hike your skirt up over your stomach, unbuttoning your shirt, the moonlight illuminating you in all the right places. His lips move to your stomach, pressing light kisses on your body, trailing upwards to the valley between your breasts, his free hand unclasping your bra in one swift motion.

“You’re so pretty,” he breathes against your skin, his lips grazing against the goosebumps that form. Your head tilts up, your back arching as you feel his fingers entering you, one first before the second one slowly joins, Gojo’s ever observant eyes watching as you moan from the pleasure, fingers picking up the pace because he decides he likes the way you sound. “Feels that good, huh?” He asks when he feels you clenching around him.

Your eyes fly open as you meet his own, the yearning from your gaze in full display, your whimpers are all you can let out because Gojo doesn’t let you breathe from his kisses now. He thinks you’re fucking addictive, thinks he was doomed from the moment he first saw how you moved, dancing with just the right force, eyes ogling at your body every single second, always looking for you in the crowd of contestants.

“Gojo—”

He immediately shuts you up with a forceful kiss, his fingers stilling inside you. Gojo’s eyes look into yours, a gentle dominance in his sneer. “Satoru,” he corrects you.

First name basis isn’t something you thought you’d ever get to do with him, but it’s not like you don’t like the thought of it.

“Satoru,” you breathe out, earning a peck on your lips as you say his name.

“What is it?” He asks, almost mockingly, because he knows exactly what you want. Gojo’s fingers move achingly slow inside of you, pushing against that spot you like—he’s already familiar with you just from this brief dalliance alone. “Hmm, can’t understand if you don’t use your big girl words.”

The way he sounds so condescending is downright humiliating, and yet your pussy clenches around his fingers that it takes everything in him not to concede so easily.

Thank god you do though.

“Satoru please fuck me,” you plead, tears in your eyes and looking just so absolutely delectable that he gets the flicker of a thought that he doesn’t want anyone else to get to see you in a state like this. Only him.

He plays right into your hands too, letting his pants and boxers pool to the floor, one of his hands pumping his cock, precum leaking from the tip, his mouth falling open as he slowly enters you, eyes rolling to the back of his head as you take him in.

“So fuck—fuckin’ tight,” he grunts, slowly pushing into you, your perfect tits earning a squeeze as you try to adjust to his size. Gojo looks at where you’re connected, praising you with a flurry of good girl and your pussy’s fucking made for me.

You knew he was big, but it’s so much more than you anticipated, even harder with his thumb pressing down on your clit, teasing you and waiting to see your limit. He’s smirking down at you, though your eyes are squeezed shut to see it.

“What? Wanna cum already? That fast, baby?” He mocks, starting to rub your clit. To think, he’s not even all the way in. God, you’re so fucking perfect. Gojo doesn’t think he’s ever felt so much satisfaction from teasing someone before that he wants to tease you even more. Pinching on your nipple with his other hand, he makes you squeal. “Baby baby, be a good girl, okay?” He whispers, pressing a kiss on your cheek, “better not cum until I tell you to.”

“I can’t-can’t hold it in—” You’re already struggling to think, let alone speak, and that’s exactly what Gojo likes. The way you’re so vulnerable for him, completely different from your demeanour when you’re dancing.

Tilting his head, he grins as he thinks of an idea. “If you can’t hold it in, ‘m afraid I’ll have to punish you,” he says, fingers tracing the outline of your jaw, loving how you’re completely at his mercy.

“Wha- how?” You’re quivering, your body so so close to your high, your willpower threatening to break any second now.

Gojo chuckles, low and deep, as his mouth moves to your ear. “If you can’t be a good girl for me tonight, I won’t touch you ever again,” he whispers, smug as he watches you pout, knowing he’s got you figured out. You want this as much as he does. He doesn’t think he can follow through with that at all, but you don’t have to know that.

All he knows is that you’re buying it as you nod, holding it in. He kisses your forehead as he resumes pushing inside you, watching as you struggle not to cum just from him entering.

“Oh god, you feel so f’kin good, baby,” he praises you again, watching as he’s fully inside of you now, tears falling from your eyes.

He starts moving slowly, getting your pussy to adjust to his girth, laughing at how you’re trying so hard not to let yourself go. You might possibly be one of the most amusing girls he’s ever met.

“Hmm, you’re so sensitive… want me that bad, pretty? Want me to fuck you again after tonight, is that it?” His tone has a lilt to it, and even though he’s mocking you for it, truth is, he’s throbbing inside of you, his own seed threatening to spill out at any moment.

Still, he supposes you’re being so obedient, nodding profusely like that, so worried that you won’t get his attention anymore that he guesses he can throw you (and himself) a bone.

“Mmm, maybe I should go easy on you, huh?” He acts as though he’s not completely a gone case, as though he’s not driven insane like you are. “Want that, baby?” Gojo’s fingers pinch on your clit, and god damn it your mewl is too cute to resist. You nod, not even knowing what for but knowing you need it.

“Want me to let you cum?”

You nod again, and Gojo’s chuckling.

“Still want me to fuck you after tonight?”

You nod again, much more, and Gojo’s ego has never been boosted higher. You’re holding it in so bad, clenching around him so tight that it nearly hurts.

“Fine, cum for me.”

Not even a second later, you’re screaming his name and cumming around his cock as he thrusts into you, riding you out, watching as you squirt all around him, using all his energy to keep himself from spilling inside you because that won’t do.

Gojo pulls out, spilling his load all over you—your chest, your stomach, your clit, watching him taint your body and watching as you let him, the sight of you an absolute hot mess as you pant under him.

It’s adorable, really, how you’re seemingly spent just from that. It’s even more adorable how you think he’s already done with you.

But before Gojo can say anything else, you hear a familiar voice cut in.

“Least you guys could do is lock the door, you know?”

Shooting your head to the side, you see Geto there, a mirthful smirk on his face as he waves hello. You’re mortified, already trying to cover yourself up, Satoru’s cum staining your clothes. Satoru himself, on the other hand, appears unfazed as he pulls his pants up, sighing.

“And maybe you shouldn’t be watching other people fuck, Suguru,” he says, completely unbothered still, and you’re wondering why until Geto speaks again.

“Aww, thought we could share this one too,” he sighs, and his disappointment sounds fake, like he knew all along Satoru wouldn’t go for it. But all you can think of is that he added too—so they’ve shared girls before? You can only imagine just how well they know each other.

In one swift motion, Geto is beside you, seemingly admiring all the places where he knows Satoru’s touched, his hand on your back while he kisses your cheek, before he’s pushed back by Satoru himself.

“Don’t touch her,” Satoru snaps, removing his shirt before you realise he’s offering it to you to wear, now that yours is dirty. He covers your body with his own while you change out of it, with Geto continuing his facade.

“Oh? This is a first, Satoru. You, not willing to share with me?”

Despite their words, the atmosphere isn’t tense at all, and you guess that’s just how close they are.

Satoru scoffs. “Told you, this one’s all mine,” he proclaims, a little hint of smugness in his voice. This time, without waiting for Geto to respond, Satoru grabs you by the arm and waves a hurried bye! to his friend before escaping his sight.

As you take the elevator back down, you’re still trying to process what happened, between fucking who’s supposed to be your teacher and judge in a competition to having Geto witness you nearly naked after getting fucked by his best friend.

Is this really your life right now? You’re really not just making this all up in your head?

In front of you, Gojo’s busy typing away on his phone until the elevator dings, snapping you both out of your reverie. He can tell you’re dazed, but to be really honest, he takes that as a good thing so he gleefully takes your hand and pulls you along with him, briefly giving you a once-over, loving how you look in his shirt. Maybe he should give you more shirts from his closet to wear for your performances. He’d definitely get a kick out of it.

When you reach his motorcycle again, you stop short before asking him again, “where are we going, Satoru?”

You’re still calling him Satoru. He grins. He likes that—likes the show of intimacy, even if it can only be in private.

Gojo revs his motorbike, gesturing for you to just get behind him, which you do—like the good girl he knows you are. He waits until he’s driving away before answering you.

“I was thinking my place,” he says, riding faster, his dick growing hard just thinking about fucking you again.

And it’s like the wind against your face knocks some sense into you again, realising that you and him aren’t just two people separated by your statuses in the world; that the Satoru you know is no longer just the Gojo Satoru you’ve read about in countless tabloids and videos. You came on the show, Satoru took an extreme interest in you, and you’re both now probably violating the rules by, well, fucking, and neither of you want to stop now either.

Just like he’s got you wrapped around his finger, he’s at your every command. Because he wants you. And you know that. And it’s fine if it’s just physical, because you doubt it will go anywhere either.

So maybe it’s okay to let loose.

Your fingers drop to the hem of his pants, palming his cock through the fabric, and Gojo grunts from how good it feels, the motorbike swerving a little when Gojo can’t keep control, distracted by your ministrations.

“Hah, you’re a little fucker, aren’t you?” He chuckles, going fast enough that no one can see what you’re doing, not that there’re a lot of people at this time of night anyway.

“Yeah, what can you do about it?” You tease, feeling a little more comfortable now, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

Satoru clicks his tongue, smirking as he looks at your reflection through the mirror. “Careful, pretty, or I’ll make you wear a vibrator the next time we have group rehearsals.”

You fall for it, furrowing your brows. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Satoru laughs out loud, going even faster now, your arms instinctively hugging him round the waist, not daring to tease him anymore—and you should’ve taken that he’s a professional racer before you started teasing him, really.

Daring to turn around to look at you, he smirks. “We’ll see,” he chuckles, “I’m supposed to be your mentor. Can’t let you off the hook that easy, princess.”

Of course, later that night, you’re caught in between Satoru and his inexplicably expensive silk sheets, situated in his all-too-big penthouse suite, moaning his name over and over, his teeth marking your breasts, cock dragging along your gummy walls and fucking you until you can’t think of anything else but him.

As Satoru watches you cum for the fourth time that night, he smirks, watching you writhe underneath him. Yeah, he definitely won’t let you off the hook. Who knows what’ll become of both of you once the show ends? But for now, as long as it’s still going on, he’s going to have his fun with you.

In secret.

[stellamancer]

hey lonely stranger (won't you meet my eye?) — extra scene

note: this is less an extra scene and the other side of part of a scene. i was going to put it in parenthesis like that one bit in lip smackless, but didn't pan out. also thanks to @/namodawrites for helping me double check gooj characterization since my regular beta was playing bg3 LMAO.

wc: 663

Satoru is used to your denial. When you're with him, it's part of who you are— ingrained into your soul, hard-written in your body like a cursed technique. He finds that he doesn't mind all that much. It's kind of entertaining, really, especially when he's realized how much you are at odds with yourself when you reject him. 

You constantly deny him and yet you are more aware of him than you are of anyone else. 

It's honestly hilarious.  

So, the relief that fills his lungs when you say those three words, when you air your denial, albeit not for him for once, surprises him a little. Satoru can say, with the utmost confidence that there was absolutely no way that you were into that guy, even if he made you genuinely laugh, even if he was the first person you sought out when you got the chance. He only asked you again to give you the chance to make peace with the truth. 

Besides, if you're going to be into anyone then it would have to be—

You're not looking at him. Your gaze is turned away from him, distant and unfocused. It's like your thoughts are wandering the night sky, drifting into the cosmos. You let the words out but are you thinking about it still? A happy, normal love? He thinks you would know better than to think you can find it lurking among the stars. 

Not when you can find it here on earth.

With him.

You're not looking at him, but Satoru wants you to. He wants you to look at him. Not at the sky, not at the stars, not at some stranger who doesn't have a place in your present, let alone your future. 

At him. 

Satoru knows you would hate it if you knew, if you realized, but it is so easy to get your attention, to draw in your gaze. All he has to do is say the right thing (or maybe it'd be more appropriate to call it the wrong thing) and your eyes will be on him in an instant, your gaze fiery and intense. 

"You know," he says, amused at the thought of the expression you're going to make. "Even though I was obviously the hottest person in the room, you looked pretty good yourself."

It's not a lie. It's clear that you went all out for this event, taking great care in making sure you looked your best— dressed in clothes much nicer than anything he's seen you work in. Satoru's even willing to bet you tried your damndest to actually get a full night's rest. 

His words work like a charm and you whip your head to face him. The look on your face is interesting; dazed, amazed. He's not familiar with this expression of yours and he leans in to get a better look. Without thinking about it, he reaches for your cheek, his fingers stopping short of your skin. For a split second, your eyes flit toward his hand, clearly aware of how close he is to touching you. Satoru's eyes trail down to your lips and he wonders if you've been using the lip balm he gave you. It looks like you have, with how soft and plush your lips look, but he should make sure— he wants to make sure. 

It's then your denial, your rejection comes out in full force. You take a step back and next thing Satoru knows you're falling into the water. 

Huh. He thought for sure this time you would have accepted a kiss from him. 

It's okay, he thinks, it's only a matter of time. Besides, the view of you right now, stunned and almost mortified is a worthwhile trade. 

It's actually hilarious. 

He starts laughing and you give him your usual scowl, splashing at him in retaliation. He doesn't mind, he'll let you have that much because one day, one day soon he'll get that kiss from you. 

[passcode58]

Not Requested |

Fluff |

Pairings | Chase Davenport x Cheerleader reader

Word Count | 1409

The hallways of Mission Creek High School were abuzz with excitement. It was the start of a new semester, and students were catching up with their friends and sharing stories of their summer adventures. Among them were a trio of an uncanny nature. Siblings born out of innovation, trying to fit into a simpler world. Chase and his siblings recently transferred to the school and he found himself ridden with anxiety, this new change in environment didn't bode well for him. You see Chase was known for his intelligence and incredible abilities, which he had inherited from his bionic enhancements. This should make him cool, hot, and popular, right? However, instead, he was a short, nerdy nerd with the personality of a snobby egotistical dick, who often bit off more than he could chew. Not exactly your average pearly-toothed jock.

Infact, his brother was the cool guy. Tall, dark hair, chiselled jaw, and buff. Funny jokes, no brain but the charisma pulled through for him. He knew he couldn't compete but he wanted to at least make one friend. He made his way through the crowded hallway, eyes set on the new scenery around him. The floors were a bit dirty, but they were better than the tube he spent most of his life confined to. So, he kept his eyes trained on the floor, until something caught his eye.

"And one, and two, and three!"

He noticed a group of cheerleaders practising their routines in the gymnasium. His attention was immediately drawn to one girl in particular. He didn't know who you were, he didn't know your name yet he felt the need to know you, as any teenage boy would. His eyes flittered accross the room and your legs came into view, perfectly visible due to the length of your skirt, or lack thereof. Gorgeous, dark, and muscular, he could tell that you were athletic. Then, his gaze trailed upwards to your hips, they were more defined than the lot of girls in the school– and well the face card pulled full time. Plump lips, a beautiful mole, and pretty doe eyes. You were practically a doll, a pretty little thing, especially with your goddess braids done up, falling down your shoulder like a waterfall. He was simply entranced.

Then he heard your name. 

"I'm sorry (Y/n). I messed up!"

"It's no problem Em. we can run it again, okay?"

'(Y/n), that's your name.' Your infectious energy and enthusiasm caught his eye. But also your beauty, but he's not shallow! He's not shallow for sure— 

"Cool Kat's leading the cheer squad again." Someone shoved him aside, rushing into the gym to watch you. Now he also know your nickname is Cool Kat, and your real name was (Y/n). You were appointed captain for your incredible flexibility and captivating smile. You had always been the life of the party, lighting up any room you entered with your vivacious personality. As the cheerleading captain, you took your role seriously and put your heart and soul into every routine. You were cool, hot and popular but in brief moments he could see you tugging at the hem of your skirt and biting your lip, eyes creasing when something went wrong.

He watched you argue with someone for messing up the routine but you also helped them improve it, giving them a second chance. "Vicious but sweet," someone said. "Yeah she's Hot and cold," but she's so…dreamy.

Like any ordinary teenage boy— which ironically he was not— he couldn't help but feel a strange connection to you. There was something about you that intrigued him, something beyond your athletic prowess and dazzling smile but he didn't dare to approach you. Not yet, at least 

"You know, bionic or not you could get arrested and a serious deduction in

social cred for creepily eyeing up the hottest girl in school." Bree says casually. Chase frowns. "I was not."

"You were," and now Adam joins in, stealing an apple from his bag.

"Look bro, we love you, okay? There's a lot of girls I'm sure would…date you— if you pray enough— but this chick ain't one." He felt that deep within because he believes it. He does and it hurts so he storms off.

He swore he wouldn't talk to you, he swore he'd stay away but god. He bumps into you in the hallway, such a cliché thing to do. His super strength sends you barrelling to the floor and tears well up in your eyes at the impact. It was hard, your leg began to bleed. Today was a bad day and he made it worse. "For fucks sake." your mouth was foul, he'd heard that about you too but he liked it. Not right now though, he panicked and rushed over frantically. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" and he moves over to lift you up but you don't like this. You hate it, who even is this boy and why was he touching you when you never asked for his help!? "Excuse me," You said and his arms were promptly pried off. The all knowing Chase Davenport didn't know what to do. "Hey I said I'm sorry." Chase repeats and his eyes soften. "Genuinely, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to, please just let me help you, it's the very least I could do." You were still upset, hands trembling but he gently placed his hands over you, and softly said "Breathe in…Breathe out… It was like a gust of gentle wind passed through you. Normally these exercises didn't help, but when he guided you it felt different. You could hear your heart beating slower and slower and suddenly, you didn't feel so defensive or upset. It was an accident. He wasn't setting this up to take advantage of you like other guys, he was genuinely a klutz with garbage timing. So you let him.

"Thank you, for helping me."

"Hey, I kinda knocked you over in the first place, which is so stupid of me, again I'm so sorry." But his guilt made you smile. "It's okay, stranger. I'm sorry I reacted like that. I was really defensive…guys here can be weird." And he knows, given that, you know he's not even a normal human being. 

You took his features in. He seemed familiar but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. Noticing your gaze, he cleared his throat and announced "By the way, I'm Chase. I'm new here, and I couldn't help but notice your amazing cheerleading skills. You're really impressive." He didn't know where he got this confidence from, but his mind seemed to have been absolutely fucked when he saw your pretty eyes.

You turned to face Chase, eyes sparkling with excitement now. "Hey, Chase! You're one of the Devenport kids right? I've seen your siblings around." And his heart wants to sink as you mention his older brother chatting her up a few times and buying you drinks. Of course the older Davenport got to you first. Of course of course of course. "Thanks for the compliment. I'm always thrilled to meet new people, especially those who appreciate cheerleading. It's such a passion of mine! Although the circumstances are quite…undesirable," and then he's brought out of his jealousy by your words. "Your brother is so sweet but he doesn't seem to appreciate my cheerleading like you do. Say, wanna talk some more?" and to be honest he doesn't even know what to make of this, so he awkwardly shakes his head. Maybe it was a shitty prank but once they actually continued talking, Chase discovered that you were not only talented but also incredibly kind and down-to-earth. A bit snappy— he made note not to get on your bad side— but generally pretty sweet.

"Chase, you're genuine and I like that. I like you, I think we should be friends, if you don't mind that is, I totally get if you don't want t—"

"NO!" Upon bearing his output your heart sank and your eyes widen, immediately, surprised by this. Maybe he didn't like you?

"Wait not no— I meant yes, as in I want to be your friend!" and you smile. 

"Then take my number."

He can't stop himself from grinning like a fool, but he holds it together.

"I— uh, I just want to tell you, while I think you're pretty I want to get to know you for more than that. I genuinely think you're an amazing person and thanks for giving me a chance." And for the first time you didn't feel like (Y/n) the vain, mean, airheaded, snappy and arrogant cheerleader. Weirdly enough this weirded you out, but it was something new and exciting and you were willing to give this friendship a chance too.

I'm in love

[ilikethisacompletelynormalamount]

Since Andrew is taking some well deserved time away from the public at the moment, let's revisit (or visit for the first time, if you're new here) this stunning photoshoot from Mr. Porter, October 2019, when he was doing press for Modern Love and his Ripley casting had just been announced (yes, it's taken that long for it to come out).

Mr Andrew Scott’s big brown eyes are open wide in amused disbelief. “That was not an Irish accent,” he says in his musical Irish brogue. “That was a West Country accent.” How embarrassing for an interviewer who thought to connect with her subject by lightly mocking Mr Ed Sheeran’s ­– again – not-Irish accent in his cameo in Mr Scott’s episode of Amazon’s upcoming anthology series, Modern Love. Panic sets in. “It’s all right,” he says, soothingly. “It’s all right. Accents are such funny things.”

You know what else is a funny thing? Sitting with Fleabag’s “hot priest” – 2019’s most unexpected sex symbol – in a wine bar in Bermondsey, southeast London, talking about vulnerability, romcoms and love stories. Or, to take another angle: sitting across the table from the deranged Jim Moriarty and letting him pick out a rosé. That tickles, too. Having Hamlet express the need for a mini-break in, he doesn’t know, Copenhagen? Amsterdam, maybe? Surreal.

But actually, Mr Scott, who is wearing what can only be described as a modified sweatsuit (shorts and a zip-up sweatshirt, no shirt beneath) after our photoshoot isn’t funny funny. No, Mr Scott is serious: reserved and contemplative, but with the energy of a theatre nerd who, every once in a while, rests his head in his hands, cupping his fingers around his eyes to form blinkers while he thinks about a question you’ve just asked. In this quiet wine bar. He’s not an evil murderer, an agent of a shadowy organisation, or an overly excited (wink) cleric. He’s just a nice guy who sympathises about the difficulty of parsing the subtleties of the many accents in the British Commonwealth (and beyond).

Mr Scott is still hot off his run in Fleabag, even though the show ran from March to April of this year. A few weeks ago, he received a GQ Men of the Year Award, and just a few weeks after that, was in Los Angeles at the Emmy Awards where Fleabag cleaned up, winning three awards.

Of course, this is not Mr Scott’s big break. He’s been in the business since moving from Dublin to London 20 years ago to pursue acting. His dad worked in employment, helping young people find the right careers and his mother was an art teacher. “They were definitely into following your passion and doing that for the rest of your life,” he says. “Rather than, ‘You should be a lawyer,’ or whatever the fuck.”

And this has been a year for Mr Scott’s passions. Aside from Fleabag, and an episode of Black Mirror that landed on Netflix this June, he’s making a poignant appearance in the aforementioned _Modern Love,_­ which will drop all at once on 18 October. A series of discreet episodes, each one features its own starry cast (Mr Dev Patel, Mr John Slattery, Ms Tina Fey, Ms Anne Hathaway and, of course, Mr Ed Sheeran, among others), based on the much-loved New York Times column from which it takes its name. Mr Scott’s episode, which co-stars Ms Olivia Cooke and Mr Brandon Kyle Goodman, is loosely based on an early column written by the sex-and-relationships writer Mr Dan Savage about the unusual experience he and his partner had with adoption. “It’s just a really sweet little story. It’s not about a romantic relationship,” he says, (many Modern Love entries are not). “It’s simply about the relationships between people.”

He’s also currently filming in Cardiff for the BBC TV series of His Dark Materials. And maybe there’s a Marvel movie in his future? “Oh, fuck. Completely false,” he says. “Someone said, ‘Are you going to be in a thing?’ I said, ‘No,’ and I said, ‘There have been discussions.’ And it’s like ‘Andrew Scott has been in discussions.’”

That’s what happens when suddenly everyone wants you – to use Twitter parlance – to run them over with your car. The Priest, unlike his other characters, was a sex symbol, one that wears the hell (forgive me, Father) out of a cassock. But who could be surprised that Mr Scott turned a priest into the “Hot Priest” simply by saying “kneel”? (If you don’t know what that means, stop reading now, watch the show, come back.) In fact, he has been making words positively drip with meaning for nearly a decade.

Consider Moriarty, the insane criminal puppet master Mr Scott played for six years across four seasons of the BBC’s Sherlock, opposite Mr Benedict Cumberbatch in the titular role. This particular Moriarty – Holmes’ famous nemesis, who has also been played by Messrs Orson Welles, John Huston and Sir Laurence Olivier – is indelible and utterly idiosyncratic. “If you’re going to do it, I don’t see there’s any point in doing it without putting your own stamp on it. I never look at any previous incarnations,” says Mr Scott. The result of this thinking – in Sherlock, at least – was a Moriarty who is all sing-song eeriness, molten physicality, and questionable cutaway collars. “He was quite theatrical; he was grotesque, sort of the archetypal villain,” he says. Archetypal, indeed: the role propelled him into the world of maniacal superfandom. He might not have received a dedicated stan nomenclature like his co-star (ahem, “Cumberbitches”), but the role made Mr Scott a household name.

Of course, establishing yourself as adept at playing evil incarnate probably leads to people wanting to cast you in more Moriarty-like roles. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yep, yeah,” he says, six times. “Yeah, exactly right,” (one more). “I turned down a lot. The shadow of that character took over for a little while.”  The craze got to be so tiresome that he asked the interviewer for a recent profile in The Guardian not to ask him about Moriarty at all (two years after he last appeared in the series). But now he sees a bigger picture, understands how being the object of abject obsession can be a good thing. “I think to answer your questions,” he says, tapping his fingers on the table, “it’s been really good fun.”

Mr Scott demurs when asked what it’s like to be the quencher of many thirsts on the internet. “People don’t say that to me. People don’t say, ‘Oh my God...” He shakes his head and trails off, perhaps in horror of what fans could be saying to him. It’s a little hard to believe that he wouldn’t be mobbed as he walks down the street. After all, one major British publication declared that Fleabag and the Priest were the only couple worth talking or tweeting about this year. (We guess Meghan and Harry, and Kim and Kanye can relax.)

“If I’m honest, it’s only really just starting to dawn on me, the global effect the show has had. People like a bit of transgression, they just do.” Any follower of his career, though, understands that it’s more than just good writing that makes him so very watchable (though good writing, is, politely, what he puts it down to). His chemistry is electric with Ms Phoebe Waller-Bridge, as it was electric with Mr Cumberbatch, and palpable even if you weren’t lucky enough to catch his rendition of Hamlet and – like this interviewer – had to watch a clip on YouTube.

Mr Scott’s character, Tobin, in Modern Love is the most subdued we might ever see him. There’s very little shouting, and none of the wide-eyed glaring that has defined his roles to date. Instead, he plays sweetly, quietly off a tiny baby, and tells goodnight stories to an adorable little girl. Perhaps this is a harbinger of softer roles to come. “I’d love to be in a romcom,” he says. “I love watching people fall in love, and how mad it is.” And yet: it was just announced that he will be playing Tom Ripley in a new adaptation of The Talented Mr Ripley. So much for avoiding the nutters.

“What always amazes me is how innocent we are as human beings,” he says, sidestepping yet another probing question about being so irresistible right now. “We are very easily manipulated by stories. If someone puts scary music behind someone and they’re told this person’s eyes are absolutely terrifying, you go: ‘Oh my God, that person is scary, and his eyes totally freak me out.’”

“But then,” he continues, “[you’re told] ‘the priest is hot, wait till you see him’. And then you look at his eyes in a very different way and it’s the manipulation of the storytelling. It literally changes your character.” Hmmm.

“The success is the writing,” he tries, again, to argue. But it’s hard to be convinced that an actor who’s hopped from one iconic character to another is simply lucky with writing. He sees he’s not getting anywhere and changes tack. “Acting is just a way of experimenting with different parts of myself. Vulnerability is something I’m really, really interested in. I think vulnerability is at the centre of every character I’ve ever played even if they don’t appear or present as vulnerable.”

Throughout this conversation, his eyes have flicked around the bar, and he pauses from time to time to comment on the other patrons. At one point, a woman is coughing so vehemently, he stops mid-sentence to remark, humorously, on whether she might be dying. Now, he spots something on the bar. “Oh my God, she’s reading Brené Brown.” We both turn to stare at the book.

“She writes a lot about vulnerability,” he explains, excited. “[Being vulnerable] is how you get ahead. I really, really strongly believe that. [Vulnerability is] strong, it’s really strong.”

Perhaps this is the secret we’ve been trying to distil about his appeal: Mr Scott uses vulnerability to bring us all into a space of fear or sadness or lust or anger with him so that every character he plays – whether it’s the hottest priest in London, a gay man in Brooklyn trying to become a father, or a murderous villain – thrums with the heartbreak that comes with being human.

“The more I work,” he continues, “the more I just think every story is in some way concerned with love – or the lack of it.” He smiles an earnest little smile and we both know this is the place to stop. “That’s the way life is,” he says. “It’s so fast and furious.”

https://www.mrporter.com/en-hk/journal/fashion/the-softer-side-of-mr-andrew-scott-1052122

[brandwhorestarscream]

Hey! I'm from KOBDSS' ask

It was "KOBDSS, but breakdown is the carrier of jettwins and wildbreak"

Ok I've been sitting on this for awhile and ngl kinda struggling, cuz. I'm not too great at puzzling out three way relationships 😅 but I think I'm finally getting there

First and foremost! Unlike previous iterations, I think the three of them will be triplets here. They come as a huge shock to everyone, and Knockout is the first to know whilst diagnosing his mate's sudden restlessness and inability to keep fuel down. Knockout is stunned to see a grand total of 5 infant sparks orbiting around Breakdown's. Seekers are always born in threes, but one of them split in two so there were 4. Add Wildbreak for a clean 5

They know the chances of Starscream being the sire of at least one is inarguable. They have... a weird relationship with their commander. Knockout and Breakdown have been conjunxed since long before the war, back when Veloctiron was still online and still the hottest, fastest place in the universe. They've always known of Starscream, he's infamous among the decepticons. But they'd never actually met the guy or been under his jurisdiction until earth, snd though their relationship is certainly a bit looser and involved now, there's still... a sort of wall there. Starscream is a massively distrustful and paranoid individual, and it took months of coaxing and careful flirtation to get him to even consider their propositions. Even when their sexual rendezvous' became semi-regular, and friendly(ish) visits even moreso, it's clear he doesn't trust them and is guarding his spark closely. He doesn't love them, doesn't think they love him, and has been beaten down and torn apart too many times to even entertain the idea. KOBD are fully content and emotionally fulfilled between each other, and while they do care for Starscream to a degree, it's more friendly than the deep and romantic love they hold for each other.

Which... somehow, makes it more awkward. If they were all a big happy united threeway sparkbond, it would be easy to tell him. They'd better be able to gage how he might react. But with him holding them at arms length and vice versa, and the seeker being so volatile, they can't even begin to guess what he'll do. What he'll think.

Knockout knows they ought to disclose it as soon as possible. After all, it's an important medical condition. But... he's worried. They both are. Breakdown has made it clear, right from the moment he found out about them, he can't stand the idea of a termination. He knows they should. They both do. An active battlefield is no place for a bitty let alone several, and they're not in a position to guarantee their safety and shelter from the war's ever evolving fallout. But the idea of snuffing them is too cruel, even for the two of them. But if they tell the wrong person or things escalate negatively, there's the risk Lord Megatron or Starscream might order their termination anyway. And while the two of them have already resolved to fight for their litter if they have to... they both know it's a fight they'll lose.

Soundwave is the next one privy to their situation. He's the calmest and most reasonable commanding force on the ship, and realistically, if anyone could get them greenlit for parenthood while also not being ejected from the warship, it's probably Soundwave. They're hoping he'll smooth things over with their big boss, because everyone knows Soundwave can do no wrong in Megatron's eyes. Of the news comes from him it'll seem less bad, right?

Right!

...except Soundwave does little more than acknowledge their situation and quietly file it away into the logs. Informs them to act at their discretion: if they want maternity leave or to be excused from battle, that is Lord Megatron's will alone.

These two idiots take the "act at your discretion" and run with it. They're just....... waiting for the right time to tell Starscream. Maybe once hes recovered from his last beatdown from Megatron a bit, or comes to loitering around the medbay when he's in a particular good mood and looking to gossip. Yeah, they'll spring it on him then, and gently ease it in with a cup of some hot energon and some embarrassing story plucked from one of the hapless vehicons. They're bracing for impact and trying to dodge the inevitable. The idiots

Their stupidity unfortunately does eventually lend itself to tragedy. Thankfully they've avoided any altercations with the autobots recently, and Breakdown has been listening to Knockout about not exerting himself. The carrying cycle is progressing nicely and Soundwave has been approving thejr extra energon intake without question. Everything is great.

And then everything goes to shit because of MECH

Everything plays out just as it does in canon. A clash with Bulkhead, taking hits and plunging it head first like he really shouldn't, dragged away by the humans and put under the knife. Having his optic ripped out of his head, having pieces of him removed and cut away. It's a traumatic, horrifying experience, and by the time Bulkhead arrives to free him he's bleeding from a very inconvenient place. Breakdown doesn't know if his greatest rival truly didn't notice or if he was refusing to acknowledge it, but he's glad for it either way. Starscream shows up to get him back, and Breakdown manages to hold himself together until he gets to the medbay

Knockout is waiting for him, and already knows the grim reality: Breakdown had never experienced such a spark-deep, lacerating pain than when one of their sparklings reabsorbed into him, premature bond shattering and leaving him a howling, roaring mess strapped to that concrete slab. Even now it persist, as his internals constrict and twist trying purge what would have been one of their bodies.

He looks like a mess stumbling into Knockout's arms, face still torn open, a gaping hole of wires and energon where his eye once was, chassis soaked in blood from their experiments and thighs just as wet, leaking a trail of blood behind him. The second the door whooshes shut behind them Breakdown collapses, crumbling to his knees and starting to scream even as his bondmate rushes throw his arms around him. It's so much, it's too much, everything is visceral pain, everywhere, from the farest reaches of his limbs to the cold void growing in his spark. It's agony, pure agony, as he desperately clings onto Knockout hard enough to dent and scratch and scrape, bawling and screaming in ire so loudly it surely echoes out into the halls. It's all just too much.

And then, to make matters worse, Starscream arrives. Bulkhead may not have noticed but he did. He can think of several reasons a mech might be voiding internal energon from his interface array, and none of them are positive. One look at the two of them immediately confirms his suspicions, and the only thing he can ask is, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Why, indeed. Breakdown immediately starts hysterically rambling, that he's sorry he knows they should've said something sooner but he's sorry this is all his fault and he's so sorry-

Explanations can wait, evidently. They need to get him taken care of, first.

Thankfully, a quick look with the mirror and a medical scan reveal that three of them are still there. Obviously stressed, vibrating at a higher rhan usual frequency, but still anchored safely to him. Not immediately in danger of reabsorption, and it's a huge, bittersweet relief. Three of them survived, might still survive all the way to emergence. The happiness is of course overshadowed by the loss, but this discovery feels like a glimmer of hope nonetheless. Knockout gets to work patching him up as seamlessly as he can, precise, loving hands eradicating wound by microscopic wound. Breakdown gets a tiny but of carrier-safe sedative, to relax his body enough to safely operate while keeping him semi-coherent. They talk the whole time, all three of them. About... what to do next, about what the future may look like with three sparklings soon to be born. Starscream agrees that, if any of them have wings, he'll willingly care for them and be their parent. If they're all grounders, then... he'll of course be civil and be more forgiving about time off for the two of them, but he won't be involved. It's a fair arrangement they can all agree on.

Of course, that all goes out the window when the three of them are born. Starscream himself didn't even realize how excited he was for their birth until Knockout announces the first one is a grounder, and his spark leaps because he doesn't care. He doesn't care if they're a grounder or a flyer, his spark lurches in a joyful way it hasn't done since before Vos fell, and all at once he realizes that he wants to be involved in these bitties' lives whether they're actually his or not. They'll need all the help, all the love they can get, and he wants to be there with them regardless of what frame they are.

Then the next two come out as jets and he's somehow even happier, because this means he'll have someone to teach about the sky and all it's wonders, and it's somehow an even greater happiness. The three of them are beautiful sparklings, each somehow with Knockout's unnaturally pretty, elegant face. The little grounder looks just like his carrier as far as his colors go, mimicking him near perfectly, but his alt mode is achingly different but so familiar. "He's just like Wildrider..." Breakdown murmurs, optics faraway as he remembers his family from so long ago. They name the eldest Wildbreak, at Knockout's insisting that Breakdown being included too. The split spark twins inherit names from the sky, from long dead relatives they'll never meet: Jetfire and Jetstorm. Neither Knockout nor Breakdown has any complaints, so their names are settled on swiftly. With that out of the way their exhausted parents can all settle in on and around the bed, bonding with their newborns and whispering back and forth to each other about just how wonderful their precious sparklings are 💖

[lavenderbexlatte]

day 2: submission

mamamoo/mamamoo+ 1.3k words gender neutral reader insert Reader x Kim Yongsun (Solar) x Moon Byulyi (Moonbyul) suggestive/SFW

🖤 warnings: simplified and unspecific depiction of the feeling of subspace, mostly banter and smooching tbh🖤

kinktober masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

It's her usual farewell, when she's the only one leaving.

"Be good for Byulie!"

A joke, mostly. As if you'd ever dream of being less than kind, less than polite to your roommate's best friend.

Byul practically lives at your place, actually. Why Yongsun doesn't just cut her losses and let her best friend move in, rather than renting the spare room in her condo out to randoms like you, you'll never understand.

You'd asked, once, and Yongsun had just pouted. "I could never live with Byulie full time. Ew. Anyway, what, you don't want to live with me?!"

And the conversation ended there. Because, of course, you love living with Yongsun. It's like having an overbearing babysitter, sometimes, but usually it's just like...like student housing in college, a little. Like having someone a little older to look out for you while still being a friend, a peer. Yongsun is cool like that.

Even now, when she's going to the grocery store to buy the two ingredients missing for dinner tonight, leaving you alone with your as-good-as-housemate and instructions, as always, to be good.

Byul says what you're thinking, once the front door is shut behind Yongsun, leaving the two of you alone in the evening sunlight.

"You're always good for me."

"I'm always good," you amend, aiming for teasing.

"Then I'm not special?" Byul replies, without missing a beat. "Damn."

It's among the most that you've ever talked one-on-one with her, honestly, in those three complete sentences. She's pretty quiet unless Yongsun is there filling in the gaps. It makes her come across as silent and cool, even though Yongsun insists she's just shy.

Still silent and cool, to you.

"You're pretty special."

It was meant to stay in your head, but considering how Byul is looking at you, it must have come right out your mouth, instead.

Byul's smile is gentle, as always. "Glad you think so."

There's something in her eyes, though.

You're not stupid, and you're certainly not unaware. You know what Byul - and Yongsun - looks like. Her silky hair, her pretty cheekbones, her ridiculous abs. Byul is pretty much the hottest person you've ever met, aside from Yongsun. That two pretty best friends guy from TikTok would have a conniption if he saw them.

You'd be stupid if you didn't have a crush on at least one of them.

"You're so cute."

Byul's voice breaks you out of your reverie. Her slim fingers pinching your cheek gently makes you break out in goosebumps.

"Like a little bunny," she adds. "Why so scared?"

It's just Byul, your roommate's best friend, but something feels different.

"I'm not scared," you say.

She laughs. She moves closer to you, sliding over the couch cushions until she's right next to you, rather than a seat and a half away.

"Nervous, then. I don't bite, little bunny."

Byul looks more like a bunny than you do. Yongsun, too. The two of them, two rabbits, all cheeks and cute straight teeth. All they need are whiskers and little white tails.

That feels like a dangerous thought.

"I know you don't," you say.

Byul nudges you with her elbow. "Well. Not unless you like that."

You cannot for the life of your figure out why, but it seems like Byul is flirting with you.

There was a time, when you first moved into the condo with Yongsun, that you'd thought the two of them were dating. Byul and Yongsun. They're certainly close enough, touchy enough, intimate enough. But they'd both said that wasn't something they wanted. They laughed at you for suggesting it.

Even still, sometimes, there's...something, between them. A hint of something.

Or maybe you're projecting.

"Am I reading things totally wrong?" Byul asks.

For the hundredth time, you feel like you've been knocked over. "Reading...what?"

"You - do you not...like me?"

"I like you," you answer, floored, hurried.

But Byul shakes her head. "I just thought I was getting the vibe like you liked me. Liked me. But if not, then I'm sorry, I-"

"No, no!"

What are you doing? What is she doing?

"No what?" she asks carefully.

"Don't apologize."

"If I crossed a line, then-"

"Of course, I like you," you clarify, your synapses finally firing correctly.

Byul looks at you significantly. "I wasn't sure if - I mean, I asked Yong, before, a while ago, if you and her ever...anything, if there was anything, and she said no, but that doesn't mean that maybe you don't want-"

"I like Yongsun. And I like you," you cut in flatly.

She looks at you even closer, and then, that smile is back. That something in her eyes is back tenfold.

"How much?"

The strangeness just keeps coming. "What?"

"How much?" she repeats.

Byul's fingers are back on your cheek, turning you gently to face her. Her other hand is firm on your shoulder.

"This much?"

You nod. Byul's grin deepens.

She leans into your space, catlike grace. She's easing you onto your back, against the arm of the couch, before you even know it. Your brain is cotton candy, fuzzy and light.

"This much?"

"Yeah."

It's golden hour. The sunlight against Byul's dark hair is warm and soft, and you feel just the same inside. Slightly melted candy. Pulled taffy.

Whatever she wants sounds good to you. You like her so much.

"Hey, they didn't have the usual one so I got this really weird-looking Pulmone dupe - oh."

Yongsun, back from the store, is holding a reusable shopping bag in one hand, and a container of flour in the other. She's also wearing an unreadable expression, big expressive eyes uniquely void of her usual open emotion.

You can't even imagine what this scene looks like to her. Her best friend and her roommate. If your head wasn't full of dandelion fluff right now, you'd be running away to the next county.

"Wow. You really took that to heart, didn't you? Huh."

That's all she says about that.

She takes the flour, and walks away to the kitchen, saying something about the freezer being too full. You're not listening.

You can't be expected to listen to anything when Byul is kissing you, dragging her wonderfully soft fingers down your throat to rest on the juncture of your collarbones. It's possessive, and it makes those dandelion seeds bloom, floating away and leaving you just...

"I'm surprised it took this long, honestly."

Yongsun again. Byul pulls back, giving you a glimpse of Yongsun leaning over the back of the couch, just watching. Her warm blonde hair falls around her face, and you blink up at her, dazed.

"Yong," you say.

You never call her by the nickname, no matter how often she says it's okay. Her eyes widen, impossibly, and she laughs her loud full-bodied laugh.

"Yeah?"

"Yong," you say again, fidgeting a little under Byul.

Somehow, you've ended up with Byul between your spread legs. Not that you mind. It's just a little bit exposed, more than a little revealing. You're sure she can tell how excited you are, how interested in the goings-on.

"This little bunny told me something very interesting," Byul says, conversational.

"More interesting than having a crush on you?" Yongsun quirks an eyebrow.

"Try, also having a crush on you."

You want to hide your face in embarrassment. You try, hands flying up to cover your burning cheeks, but Yongsun brushes them away. She's not using much strength, but she's firm, and the firmness itself is enough. You drop your hands limply to either side of your head.

"Both of us?" Yongsun says interestedly.

"If - I mean, if..." you trail.

"It's more than okay," says Byul.

Yongsun nods. "You just have to do one thing."

Anything, for her. You nod eagerly.

But the request is simple. One you hear all the time. Usually as a joke. Or, you thought it was a joke. Now you're not so sure.

"Be good."

[blowflyfag]

WWF RAW MAGAZINE: February 2002

Beauty AMONG THE Beasts

JUST WHEN YOU THOUGHT the World Wrestling Federation couldn’t get any better, the WWF’s Divas proved that they are more athletic, better looking, and more entertaining than ever. In 2001, we witnessed the debut of three stunning newcomers, the continued marathon of last year’s two hottest rookies, and the sustained excellence of our four most tenured Divas.

Torrie Wilson, Stacy Keibler and Mighty Molly showed the world that they have what it takes to survive in the World Wrestling Federation.  Trish Stratus and Lita demonstrated that 2000 was no fluke, and Ivory, Jackie, Terri and Debra affirmed their status as four of the most beautiful and toughest women ever to set foot in the World Wrestling Federation.

Whether it was battling for the WWF Women’s Championship, teaming up with fellow Superstars or posing for the Divas 2001 Swimsuit Magazine, these Divas proved that when it comes to real beauty, there is no place like the World Wrestling Federation.

trish 

SMART ‘N’ SEXY

No sophomore jinx for this blonde bombshell. Not only did Trish prove that she can do it all in front of the camera, she also proved that she can do it all in the ring. Fighting back from a severe ankle injury, she won the World Wrestling Federation Women’s championship. Beauty, brains, brawn–there’s no doubt that Trish has it all…Stratusfaction Guaranteed!

ivory 

SEXY TOMBOY

She calls herself a “sexy tomboy,” and who would be crazy enough to disagree? Whether battling in the ring, posing for a photo shoot or providing commentary on television. Ivory always manages to become the center of attention. Is there any doubt why?

jackie 

TEXAS TROUBLE

Don’t let her gorgeous looks fool you. This is one tough woman–just ask any Diva or Superstar unfortunate enough to have to wrestle Dallas’ greatest gift to the world. Jackie may not be the biggest Diva around, but rest assured, there isn’t a Diva alive that looks forward to competing against Jackie–in the ring or in a swimsuit competition. 

lita 

BOLD AND BEAUTIFUL

This Divas 2001 Swimsuit Magazine Cover Girl showed the world that being yourself is truly beautiful. Is it any wonder that Lita proved to be the most popular Diva in the year 2001? With her athleticism and looks, don’t be surprised if she proved to be on top of the WWF Women’s Division for years to come. 

torrie 

TRULY TEMPTING

What a debut Torrie made in 2001. Sure she may have chosen the wrong side when she came in as part of the Alliance, but even Federation fans had to admit that they couldn’t get enough of her. This year she treated fans to a lingerie match and two spectacular photo shoots. Here’s hoping that this knockout gets plenty of television time in 2002!

stacy 

LONG ‘N’ LEAN

Forty-two inch legs. Need we say more? Not really, but just in case you’ve had your head in the sand for the past year, let us remind you that few Divas have ever had a better debut year than Stacy Keibler. One thing everybody learned is that behind the sweet smile and innocent look lurks a very tough and driven woman. 

terri 

SINFUL “SHE-DEVIL”

If there’s one constant in the World Wrestling Federation it’s that the “She-Devil” will be looking great and plotting something fiendish. Nobody’s better at using her “talents” to get what she wants, and 2001 proved to be no expectation. You would think that the guys would know better by now. But let’s be honest, what man could refuse this temptress’ advances?

debra 

COOL AND CRAFTY

Sure there may be a few fans out there who don’t like her cookies, but our best guess is that there aren’t any who don’t like her. Debra never looked better or had more success than she did in 2001. Is it any wonder that Stone Cold Steve Austin is the most envied man in America?

molly 

MIGHTY FINE

Sweet and innocent, right? Don’t let her girl-next-door looks fool you, there is no tougher competitor than Molly. Whether flying off the top rope or flying off the handle with fellow superhero The Hurricane, Mighty Molly demonstrated that a girl can have it all. Oh yeah, she’s more than just a little bit cute too, ain't she?

[fontasticcrablettes]

And so at last we have come to the end, and our final farewell. Zelos expected to at least have company on his trip home, but both Gaius and Peony are moving on to the Grand Finale, so he'll have to find someone else to irritate.

With Zelos' parting, we have at least reached our grand finale, of Gaius vs Peony vs Eizen!

The Road So Far

[Carry on my Wayward Son plays]

First, we have Gaius, King of Auj Oule, a major antagonist in Tales of Xillia but a party member in its sequel. He's powerful, he's determined, he doesn't know how to use a cell phone because he's such a dork help.

Gaius started out strong with a decisive victory against Duke, followed by taking the crown among antagonists in our Tales Villain Hot or Not? poll. 14% of respondents nominated him as the Sexiest Tales Villain! But perhaps those early victories made him overconfident, because he was very nearly sent home in the second gauntlet during a tough competition with Vicious, and scraped through with only 10 votes more than his competitor. Luckily or him, Gaius achieved a solid victory against Dohalim to earn his spot in the semifinal. Then, when facing off against his rival monarch, they had a tie!

Gaius may be the sexiest villain, but how will he fare against these two characters who weren't eligible for the villain poll?

Eizen is the only contestant left who's not royal. He's a sexy pirate, an earth malakh who spends all his time at sea, and an absolute badass who's also a huge dork about it (I'm sensing a theme here).

Eizen was a strong competitor right out of the gate, with nearly 80% of the vote in his first match-up against Dezel. In his next match, he went up against Jade, a fandom favourite for years. Although Jade's name was occasionally put forward as a possible winner of the whole tournament, Eizen came out on top in order to face Vholran. As a character from the newest game, Vholran was a bit of a wildcard, smashing up the status quo of the long established line-up of sexy characters.

But wearing eyeliner isn't enough when Eizen is also rocking that look, and Eizen made it to the semifinals. Eizen continually faced hard matches, as Zelos is both beloved and from a hugely popular game. But even Zelos' charms weren't enough, and the Reaper smashed his way into the grand finale. He's faced many difficult opponents before... but can he beat two at once this time?

And then there's Peony, the only character left who is never playable. Peony is not a party member, and he's not even a boss! Peony was an underdog from the start of this bracket, with only 7 write-in votes to secure his spot (the fewest of any write-in contestant).

Peony entered the tourney with the fewest pictures to choose from, and relied on his charm as a level headed man who loves his pets and will treat you right.

Peony had an early win with his defeat of Yuan, one of the more popular write-in contestants, and perhaps it was momentum from this victory that propelled him through the most riveting match-up yet: Yuri Lowell. Yuri, a man so popular that Bamco had to ban him from polls because people couldn't stop voting for him. Nobody expected Peony to win that match, but he turned the competition upside down with a firm victory that left the community reeling.

After that, there was no slowing down this underdog. He faced against his own countryman, Guy, another hugely popular character and once again came out on top. In a bonus poll, Peony was voted as the hottest among his childhood friends, Jade and Dist. When this dark horse of an NPC faced off against Sexiest Tales Villain Gaius, it looked like it might finally be the end of the road, only for him to pull out an unexpected tie.

Every Peony victory has been a little bit surprising. Will his momentum carry through, or can a charming smile and a cute rappig to pose with only get him so far?

Three beautiful men stand before me... but only one can be Tales' Next Top Sexyman

[edsmcnson]

who: eddie & @courtroomphilosopher​​

what: is it the 80s again?

where: the hideaway (where else tbh)

if being back in hawkins had taught eddie one thing, it was that almost dying in a supernatural dimension was apparently not something one could just work through in therapy. even over the course of twenty fucking years. not that eddie had kept up with his sessions much these last months. scratch that, these last years, too busy with being miserable living his dream life. it had also taught him that this town still blew.

and that he needed to get out of there, stat. he’d initially driven to the hideout, that piece of junk corroded coffin had played in a couple times in their prime, but had quickly come to find it boarded up, an eviction notice taped to the door with police crime scene tape. not that it surprised him much, it had been pretty crappy, even in the golden age of seedy crappy bars. 

so where was there left to get a drink but the hideaway? the only place to get something to drink, really, if you didn’t want to sit on the hood of your car with a six pack of beer like some freshly graduated jock loser. yes, he was thinking of tommy hagan specifically, but that was another thing. eddie needed to be among people, people that weren’t his suffocatingly loving almost-step-aunt and uncle. people that were just as much of a mess as he was. what better place than the only bar left in hawkins. nobody respectable would choose to have their shameful drink there, much less on a week night.

three senses hit him first when he walks through the door. one - smell, obviously, always smell at the hideaway, that one hasn’t changed since the first time he flashed his fake i.d. to the bartender. the second - sight , as his eyes zero in on an unfamiliar face sitting on a bar stool in the corner. his eyes travel down the stranger’s form and unavoidably eddie’s gaze stops on the piece of fabric dangling from the other guy’s back pocket. no fucking way. it ties into sense three, which, well, it’s more of a ... a sentiment his body expresses suddenly, with an urgency that nearly overwhelms him. telling him that holy hell, eddie needs to get laid. like, yesterday.

no wonder he’s been so tense since arriving in hawkins, there’s been no shenanigans to ease up the tension from all the crazy happening around him. mostly due to a lack of options. and here was his golden ticket to salvation. ugh, too cheesy. anyway. 

eddie truly felt like the hottest piece of action in the joint, as if there was a fan pointed on him and everything was happening in slow motion as he casually got himself a drink and made his way across the bar, ignoring everyone around him but him.

he knew it was stupid to even ask - but ... well, he was also in indiana. in the middle of nowhere, indiana, to be exact, and everything around him seemed to be stuck in the 80s. so it was worth a shot. eddie cleared his throat, flashed the other a grin when he got his attention. “uh... so, you can, like, totally tell me to get lost if not but ... shit i’m - i’m just gonna ask, are you flagging? by any chance?”

[hamuchustartea]

°˖✧My Top 3 Comfort Characters✧˖°

☆I introduce these Lovely Fictional Men who had always given Meaning to my Life☆ ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡.:*���

1. Guzma

(Pokemon SM, USUM and Masters)

I LOVE GUZMA!  ♡( ´ ▽ ` )♡

I've been in love with him since he was introduced in the Pokemon Sun and Moon game trailers back in August 2016 and it's all thanks to his swag, cockiness and punk aesthetic. Goth Punk boys are my ultimate weakness and Guzma is a combination of Goth Punk hard as nails and Hip Hop swag. His design plus his backstory was the best part of the game and since then, I couldn't get enough of him. He's everything I want from a guy. (≧▽≦)

Speaking of his backstory, he by far is the most relatable character to me. I can easily understand his frustrations and empathize with his inner pain and desire to prove his worth. Learning from his struggles and redemption made me love him even more.

Therefore, he'll always be my no. 1 favorite character and maybe forever? ଘ(੭ˊ꒳​ˋ)੭✧*:・ﾟ

2. Junkrat (Overwatch)

I can't get enough of this crazy, loveable bloke!

Before discovering Guzma and just when Overwatch was new (around May or June 2016 I think), I saw some random game screenshots and hot art of Junkrat in Tumblr. You know I’m CRAZY for Goth Punk Boys! So Mad Max Punk Junkrat immediately caught my attention.  

But not too long, Guzma came to my life and swept off my feet! And for a time I forgot about Junkrat. Poor baby. That happens when a lot of hot characters are introduced in a very short period of time. (っ´ω`)ﾉ(╥ω╥)

Last month, I remembered Junkrat when I found my collection of old hot fanart of him. Thus, rekindling my love for him. It's kind of unusual for me to like him because I'm usually into muscly men, although he still is well toned but on the skinny side. But it's the crazy personality that I loved the most about him.

  I both love Guzma and Junkrat! They’re two different men. One is cocky while the other is maniacal, but they’re both Wild Punks which is why I  LOVE the two of them!

3. Ramsay (Gigantic)

I discovered him after a friend of mine mentioned about the character during our online chat. After searching him up, I realized I have the hots for Ramsay! (ᗒᗨᗕ) I feel so bad not knowing about him sooner. I don’t know why I wasn’t familiar with the game or the character, maybe I missed him or he got drowned by the more popular games like Overwatch and Pokemon.

  Ramsay is like a combination of Guzma and Junkrat. I love his overall appeal! I love his design, his clothes, that smug look, cocky attitude and roguish personality. And that Punk Hair! Also he’s so sexy to brandish his blade coated with poison fruit juices. σ(≧▽≦σ)～♡ ヽ(o´∀`)ﾉ♪♬♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪ So there you have it folks, but I'm not done yet with my mushy ramblings. Guzma may be my no. 1 but I'm still debating on who’s the hottest among the three of them. I just don’t know I’m so confused now.  ლ(¯ロ¯"ლ)

But the main reason why I love these men is because I find them very unique and highly appealing. What do they have in common? Their big personalities, wild looks and penchant for trouble. I have a feeling that they were inspired by 80s and 90s troublemaker characters that I enjoyed watching when I was a kid. Gosh, I still never overcame my love for bad boys. (⁄⁄>⁄▽⁄<⁄⁄)

[casspurrjoybell-25]

Skating on Thin Ice - Chapter 47 - Part 2

*Warning - Adult Content*

Elijah Ellis

The next day at school, I didn't see Fox until he limped his way into English class with Ian by his side.

Then he sat in his usual spot in the back of the room, placing his hand on my shoulder as he walked by.

"Holy fuck," Nadia excitedly whispered as she watched Fox go by us.

"You fucking topped him?"

"Shh," I hushed her, holding my finger to my lips.

"I knew one of them had to be gay," Lexa commented with a sly smile.

"And you snagged the hottest one."

Nadia scowled at her girlfriend who held her hands up in defense while I shook my head at her.

"Hey, just because I'm gay doesn't mean I can't tell that he's hot," Lexa defended.

As Nadia and Lexa started chatting, I heard laughter coming from the back of the room.

I turned to see the hockey guys chuckling among themselves, lightly shoving Fox while he sat there with a glare on his face.

I could only imagine the things they were saying to him about the obvious pain he was in this morning.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what the pain was from.

As soon as class ended, Fox was quick to meet up with me at my seat, earning amused stares from Nadia and Lexa.

"I'm going to kill those assholes," Fox hissed, sending a scowl back to where our friends were laughing at him.

Even Ian, who I was worried would be in a sour mood today, was chuckling as he stood up from his seat.

Before I could say anything, Fox grabbed my hand and led me out the classroom, leaving our friends behind.

"Is your car fixed yet?" I wondered, remembering he had been late again this morning.

Fox shook his head.

"My dad had to order a battery for it because the store was out. Wren let me take his car today."

"He let you take it?" I asked, astonishment clear in my voice.

"Yeah, you know how he's been being weirdly nice lately," Fox replied, still holding onto my hand as we walked down the hall.

"Plus I think Robin is off from work today so they can just take his car if they do anything."

Fox and I walked together until we had to split up to go to our respective classes.

Before departing, Fox placed a chaste kiss on my lips then walked in the other direction.

********

It wasn't until lunchtime when I saw him again, coming up to where I sat at the GSA table.

"Can I sit here? Those idiots are still annoying the shit out of me," Fox said, sitting down beside me and placing his tray down on the table.

None of the other GSA kids had made it to the table yet, but I didn't have to sit alone for long since Fox was now accompanying me.

"You get annoyed easily," I reminded him, opening up my water bottle and taking a sip.

He rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I know but they've been extra annoying today."

Claudia rushed over to the table once she saw that Fox and I were sitting there.

"So when's our double date?" she asked with a sweet smile, sitting across from us and resting her elbows on the table with her cheeks in her hands.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Fox asked her, his eyebrows pinching together.

"You, Elijah," Claudia answered, gesturing toward us.

"Me, Holly. Date. Together."

"No," Fox denied, shaking his head.

Claudia sat down in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest and staring Fox down like she was waiting for him to give in.

He wasn't budging, turning to face me and effectively ignoring Claudia's outburst.

"Come on, Fox," she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air.

"I can't get away from annoying people today, no matter how hard I try," Fox said to me, causing me to chuckle as I glanced at Claudia's irritated glare.

I figured he would eventually give into Claudia's request if she bugged him enough about it.

Despite being exes, the two of them still cared deeply for each other and considered each other close friends.

Claudia let the topic go when Holly made her way to the table and stole all of her attention.

"Uh, oh, now we've got three couples at this table," Austin said as he sat down with his lunch, Trevor and Johnny sitting on either side of him.

"Though, this one I wouldn't mind seeing make out."

"Austin," Johnny complained.

It still surprised me that Fox found Austin amusing as he sat beside me, laughing at his words.

I felt warmth in my chest at the thought of Fox becoming more and more comfortable with his sexuality.

"Is everyone treating you two alright?" Trevor asked, ignoring Austin's crude remarks.

"Other than some staring, I think it's gone pretty well," I replied, looking to Fox for confirmation.

Fox nodded.

"Besides our own team being annoying about it, it's been fine."

Trevor laughed.

"Joshua was telling me that the whole team was super shocked when you came out at the tournament."

Not very subtly, Fox's eyebrows shot up on his forehead as he turned to give me a look due to Trevor's mention of Joshua.

I lightly kicked my boyfriend under the table.

"It was a heat of the moment thing," I said, trying to distract from Fox's hiss in pain.

"No one was really expecting it."

With that, the conversation drifted to something else and lunch seemed as though it was over as soon as it started.

********

Finally being able to get back on the ice felt amazing, even though the coaches were making practice as grueling as possible.

They said it was to keep us fresh since we wouldn't be able to compete for five games but I was sure they just liked seeing us suffer.

We were all growing tired from the drills we had been running and Fox was getting increasingly frustrated when his glasses kept fogging up in his helmet.

The coaches gathered us at center ice toward the end of practice, Alex out of breath and leaning on Fox for support.

Fox appeared to be too tired to even bother shoving him off.

"Alright boys. I think you've had enough for today," Coach Silva announced, glancing around at all of us.

"We'll have a lighter practice tomorrow. You guys can go."

"Lighter practice my ass," Jude complained from behind me as we made our way to the locker room.

Fox and I stood next to each other at our lockers, getting ready to change out of our gear when Ryan came up behind us.

"Bruins game at my house Friday?" Ryan asked, a hand on each of our shoulders.

"We have to go out with Claudia and Holly," Fox grumbled, sitting down to pull his skates off.

Fox had told me at the start of practice that Claudia had ended up convincing him to go on the double date in one of the classes they had together after lunch.

"Come over for the Sunday matinee then," Ryan responded with a grin, patting Fox on the shoulder and walking away.

"You're still coming over tonight, right?" I asked Fox, sitting down beside him.

"For family night."

Fox glanced up at me, his lips quirking up slightly.

"Yes, I'm coming."

I grinned at him, then turned my gaze down to my lap until Ian plopped down beside me and shook the bench.

He didn't say anything as Fox and I stared at him while he took off his equipment.

Once he had the lower half of his equipment off, Ian stood up and took off his jersey, pads and under shirt.

That was when I noticed the nasty red mark on his arm.

"Woah, are you okay?" I asked him without thinking.

"Elijah," Fox whispered, placing his hand on my arm and shaking his head at me.

Ian sported a surprised expression as he shared a glance with Fox, as if he was shocked Fox hadn't told me anything about why he had gone over the night before.

"I'm fine," Ian replied, his expression turning impassive.

"My mom smacked me with her stupid iron. She claims she didn't know it was still hot."

My eyes bulged at his words.

The burn on his arm was considerably large, looking like it must be throbbing.

"Wipe the concern off your face, Ellis," Ian said in an even tone.

"I'm fine. I'm not being abused. She's just a little annoying lady with a bad temper."

With that, he turned to face his locker and finished undressing before grabbing a towel and heading to the showers.

My eyes slowly drifted to Fox, the shock still clear on his face.

"Don't ask," he said, shaking his head.

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning!  I hope you slept well and feel rested?  Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day. 

Welcome to Too Much Information Tuesday.

Not everyone you lose is a loss.

The dot over the letter “i” is called a tittle.

‘LOL’ used to mean ‘lots of love’ before the Internet.

You aren't rich until you have something that money can't buy.

On average, 12 new-borns will be given to the wrong parents daily.

In the eighth century, fishermen in Japan paid their taxes in seaweed.

Coca-Cola only sold 25 bottles in their first year but kept going.  (Never give up!)

Boredom is the single largest contributor to the use of drugs and alcohol among teens.

A ‘loophole’ originally meant a narrow slit through which a defender could shoot attackers.

British spies stopped using semen as invisible ink because it began to smell if it wasn’t fresh.

80% of people have at one time found themselves subconsciously singing a song they hate.

In the 1930s, there were plans to build an airport on top of Kings Cross station in London.

The number of heart attacks spike in Brazil on days their team is playing in the World Cup.

“The obedient always think of themselves as virtuous rather than cowardly.”  (George Carlin)

The Popemobile used by John Paul II on his visit to Ireland can be rented out for stag parties.

The movie ‘Paranormal Activity’ cost less than $15,000 to make but grossed over $193,000,000.

Until 1899, the list of official diseases of the Royal College Of Physicians included ‘nostalgia’.

Coin flips aren’t 50/50, there is a 51% chance you will end up with whatever side you started with.

Only 10% of British teenagers meet the recommended guidelines on sleep, exercise and screen time.

Cameroon is the only country named after a crustacean. It comes from the Portuguese for prawns.

In 1957, Eleanor Roosevelt did a music radio show, taking song requests from children with polio.

Some orchids have spring-loaded traps in their flowers that are activated by male insect’s genitals.

The US Patent Office insisted on proof that the Ouija board worked before granting the patent in 1891.

Some female frogs play dead to avoid mating with male frogs.  (Some women probably wish it were that easy!)

Psychology claims that if two past lovers can remain just friends, it’s either they are still in love, or never were!

The average Bentley driver owns eight cars.  The average Bugatti driver owns 84 cars, three jets and a yacht.

‘Corn sweat’ is the phenomenon whereby the corn fields in the American midwest make the air more humid.

American photographer Danielle Lessnau has created a body of work using a pin-hole camera installed in her vagina.

An unborn baby can taste what their mother is eating and can develop a preference for the foods that she eats.

A new analysis shows that cancers may have more to do with lifestyle, not genetics, in as many as 90% of cases.

Delete your browser cookies before you buy airline tickets.  Ticket prices go up when you visit travel sites multiple times.

During pregnancy if the mother suffers organ damage, the baby in the womb sends stem cells to repair the damaged organ.

According to a study, the two most common feelings that people tend to bring out in others are enthusiasm and boredom.

If we put a giant mirror ten light years away from Earth and looked at it through a telescope, theoretically we'd see 20 years into the past.

‘Frozen’ and other Disney animated films include a credit for Disney’s coffee guy.  He is credited with ‘caffeination’ and has his own IMDb page.

In a 1930s Mickey Mouse comic, Minnie cheated on Mickey with another mouse.  Mickey then tried to kill himself by jumping off a bridge.

Iceland's population is so small that an Icelandic company has created an anti-incest app to prevent Icelanders from dating their relatives.

The hottest temperature measured on Earth (56.7 degrees Celsius) was recorded in a place called Greenland Ranch in California, now known as Furnace Creek.

During the 1945 Hollywood strike, one tactic employed by protesters was to picket movie theatres and give away the ending to people before they could buy tickets to the film.

“Talent is what they say you have after the novel is published and favourably reviewed.  Beforehand, what you have is a tedious delusion, a hobby like knitting.”  (Marge Piercy)

Since odd numbers are harder for our brains to process, some people actually experience feelings of discomfort when the volume of the television, among other things, is set to an odd number.

You can be declared dead in 48 US states but still alive in New Jersey and New York.  These two states allow families to reject the diagnosis of brain death if it conflicts with their religious beliefs.

When asked why he wrote the theme tune from ‘Mission: Impossible’ in 5/4 time, the composer Lalo Schiffrin said: “The people in outer space have five legs and couldn’t dance to our music, so I wrote this for them.”

Okay, that’s enough information for one day.  Have a tremendous and tumultuous Tuesday!  I love you all.

[hisoka-tano]

Shigadabi Waterpark

The sun was high in the sky, casting a brilliant glow over the bustling water park. The sound of laughter and splashing water filled the air as families and friends enjoyed the various attractions. Among the crowd, Dabi and Shigaraki strolled along, blending in with the masses while concealing their true identities as members of the League of Villains.

Dabi, with his azure flames flickering beneath his skin, wore a loose-fitting black swim trunks and a dark hoodie that concealed his scarred face from prying eyes. Shigaraki, his decay quirk ready to unleash chaos, opted for a simple white t-shirt and shorts. They had decided to take a break from their villainous pursuits and enjoy a day of leisure together.

As they approached a towering water slide, Shigaraki turned to Dabi with a mischievous grin. "Hey, hot stuff. Wanna race down that slide?"

Dabi chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a playful fire. "You're on, skeletal boy. But don't think you can beat me that easily."

With a quick nod, they climbed up the stairs, anticipation building with each step. When they reached the top, they exchanged a knowing glance before positioning themselves side by side, ready to take the plunge.

"Three... Two... One... Go!" shouted a nearby lifeguard.

Dabi and Shigaraki pushed off simultaneously, hurtling down the slide with exhilaration coursing through their veins. The rush of the wind whipped through their hair as they laughed and screamed in delight. For a moment, all their worries and responsibilities melted away, leaving only the pure joy of the present.

As they emerged from the slide, gasping for breath and drenched in water, Shigaraki glanced at Dabi, a spark of something more than friendship flickering in his eyes. "You're not bad, flame boy," he said, a hint of admiration in his voice.

Dabi smirked, his voice filled with a playful arrogance. "Of course, I'm not. I'm the hottest guy around."

Shigaraki rolled his eyes but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips. "Yeah, yeah. Keep dreaming, firestarter."

They spent the rest of the day exploring the water park, venturing from one attraction to another. They rode the lazy river, dodging water cannons and soaking innocent bystanders along the way. They challenged each other to daring feats on the high diving boards, trying to outdo one another with their acrobatic flips. And when the sun began to set, they floated side by side in the wave pool, enjoying the gentle rocking motion and the warmth of the fading sunlight.

As the water park emptied out, leaving only a handful of stragglers, Dabi and Shigaraki found themselves drawn to a secluded area, hidden behind a curtain of cascading waterfalls. The sight was breathtaking, and the air was thick with an unspoken tension between them.

Shigaraki turned to Dabi, his voice softer, laced with a vulnerability that was rarely seen. "Dabi, you know... I appreciate having you by my side. You've always been there for me, even when I doubted myself."

Dabi's eyes softened, and he reached out to cup Shigaraki's cheek, his touch tender and comforting. "Tomura, you're not alone anymore. We're in this together. Always."

Their gazes locked, and the world around them seemed to fade into nothingness. In that moment, all that mattered was the undeniable connection they shared, one that surpassed their roles as villains and hinted at something deeper, something more profound.

The sound of the waterfalls provided a soothing backdrop as Dabi leaned in, closing the gap between them. Their lips met in a gentle kiss, the taste of chlorine mingling with the faintest hint of smoke from Dabi's quirk. It was a promise, a testament to the bond they shared and the unspoken promise of a future filled with both love and chaos.

As they pulled away, their foreheads resting against each other, Shigaraki whispered, "I think this is just the beginning, Dabi."

Dabi smirked, his eyes shining with a mix of mischief and adoration. "Oh, you have no idea, Tomura. We're going to set the world ablaze."

And with that vow, Dabi and Shigaraki, two souls bound by darkness, found solace and love in each other's arms, ready to take on whatever challenges lay ahead.

[simeon-takes-a-break]

Bula, Fiji - on a shoestring!

I started my Fiji adventure with a minor offense. Entry required a proof of return or onward trip. As I wanted to stay flexible I put my photoshop skills to the test and forged an outbound flight confirmation. It worked like a charm and I was ready for some nice sandy beaches. Everyone recommended booking an island hopping trip across the Yasawa islands and that’s what I wanted to do. Until I checked the price tag which was outrageously outside of my budget or frankly anyone else’s who wasn’t the CEO of an international company with their shares listed on the New York Stock Exchange. In hindsight that was great which let me explore places off the beaten path. I had to adjust my plans and opted to go to the minuscule Beachcomber island just a stone’s throw from the airport and then known as Fiji’s party island. The gorgeous islet’s only resort featured a comfy one hundred man dorm (no joke), which was open air! Thank god it was low season and the dorm was “only” a quarter full. Given the limited space, very quickly a family atmosphere arose among the backpackers. There were common dinners, card games and in the evening also debauched parties. One highlight was certainly the hermit crab race, where you could choose a crab that represented your country.

There I also met Raj, a young, very shy local guy, who worked on the piping system. We chatted every day and once his job on the island was done, he invited me to his home. He stayed with his family in Ba, a small town in the northwest of the main island. I actually had no plans to travel to this area, but an opportunity like this doesn't come along every day, so I accepted the invitation, albeit cautiously. 

Before that, however, I decided to explore Mana island just a short but expensive boat ride to the west. The island was considerably bigger than Beachcomber and even featured an airstrip but again there was only one place to stay which was thankfully relatively affordable, three meals per day included. It’s been eight years and somehow I remember the especially tasty homemade bread rolls. I spent my days enjoying the pristine white beach, crystal clear blue waters and accompanying locals for a spearfishing session to a nearby sandbank. Did I mention the most spectacular sunsets ever? I didn't have a romantic date at hand. However meeting Nicolas, a very friendly Swiss dude from my hometown on the other side of the world on this remote island, was more than a worthy replacement. To this day I have three framed pictures hanging on my bedroom wall, one of which is from that paradise beach. 

Back on the main island, Viti Levu, I hopped on the overcrowded bus and arrived in Ba in “no” time. Bus rides in Fiji are something else. First of all, there’s always loud music blasting throughout the vehicle. Thank God, it mostly matched my music taste (unlike the dull, unoriginal, lazy, sloppy, repetitive, reductive (to quote Madonne here: “look it up”) and unbelievably enervating Reaggaton nonsense I have to endure right now here in Latin America). I mean, I was delighted to hear such masterpieces like “Gotta Go” by your very own local matador and Swiss Eurovision sensation Dj Bobo, then still untattooed teen heartthrob lesbian Justin Bieber or the actually lovely song called Kuchi Kuchi by Nigerian gospel artiste J’odie. While on stayed a couple of nights at a super remote hostel where the bus to reach said hostel had its final destination and it was always the same driver and in those places a bus arriving is a major event during the day. Back in those days the music was played from a USB stick, so I had a little conversation with the bus driver and what can I say, I am the proud owner of THE hottest February 2014 Fiji public transport music collection, period! Second, the bus seats are plastized so you either stick like glue to them or slide around in a pool of your own ass-sweat. Grandma Yetta from the Nanny highly approves though! IN addition, some of them don’t (or can’t?) switch their headlights on at night and are as fast as Usain Bolt with diarrhea spotting a toilet. I once got almost run over by one of them but the driver was kind enough to stop and give me a lift. It’s not everyday you run amok in a bus with breakneck speed at night while “Like, Baby, baby, baby, no” is ripping your eardrums apart.

Anyway, my stay with Raj’s family was something to be remembered. They are Indo-Fijians and were extremely welcoming. I had my own room and Raj’s mother would go to great lengths to prepare great meals for me. However and obviously, my eating habits got in the way. They couldn’t believe I didn't eat chicken (let’s be honest, whoever reads this doesn’t either). I was asked a thousand times if I might eat it prepared in this or that way. My pitiful attempts to point out that I “was” a veggie didn’t help either. Raj’s father was a serious man and visibly proud of their property. They grew their own passion fruits, starapples, coconuts, lime and sugarcane, all of which I was offered to taste. They knew Switzerland from various Bollywood movies and said it’s what paradise must be like. Sort of what we think when we hear “Fiji”. In the evenings Raj and his friends introduced me to Kava, Fiji’s national drink. Basically it's a mildly narcotic and sedative drink made from the crushed root of the yaqona strained with water. It is served in a large communal bowl as part of the traditional kava ceremony. When drunk, it creates a numb feeling around the mouth, lips and tongue, as well as a sense of calm and relaxation. The taste is unpleasant to say the least. Also it aptly resembles sewage water. But hey, when in Rome. 

After a couple of days it was time to move on. I decided to get Padi certified in advanced diving and Fiji was obviously the place to be. The rather remote island Taveuni to be precise. A quick 18 hour overnight ferry ride would do the trick of getting there. An excellent choice of transportation if it wasn’t for my stingy attitude. No way I would be paying for an expensive first class seat or god forbid a 20 Dollar mattress. Sleeping on the actual floor it is. The fact that the entire Fiji population has a serious snoring problem didn’t help either. Fiji’s “Garden” island didn’t disappoint. The diving was spectacular, yes. The adrenaline-inducing natural Waitavala water slides and the Lavena coastal walk featuring spectacular double-waterfalls and natural pools at Bouma National Park however were no less fascinating (thanks Udo for bringing the GoPro along). That was also the only time I hitchhiked, which involved asking some guards for directions, who were standing at the side of the road and supervising prisoners doing push-ups. At the hostel I was yet again invited for an evening kava session by three elderly locals, who decided that bad-ass synthesizer sound would be the perfect music backdrop. Obviously I ended up being the last man standing, or rather sitting. As a result I was offered beer (perfect, more alcohol) and “abducted” to the beach. Speaking of the beach, in a moment of insanity, and because the hostel provided amateur fishing rods, I somehow decided to try fishing by myself during low-tide, on razor-sharp rocks with nothing but bread crumbs which immediately dissolved once submerged. Needless to say that I almost strangled myself with the fishing line. And no fish were even close to being harmed in that pathetic process. 

My last stop in Fiji was tiny Caqalai island. I have no recollection of how Katja, a girl I met on the infamous ferry back to the capital Suva, and I decided to check this gem out, but I am glad we did. Google doesn’t even show it on their maps service and getting there was no easy task. The island hosts just one resort consisting of a restaurant and four simple yet charming huts with straw roofs. Electricity was exclusively provided through a mobile solar panel and battery, just enough to charge our phones. The weather was rather unstable so we mostly spent our days reading. On the rare sunnier days we snorkeled around the beautiful intact reef and I practiced climbing palm trees and picking fresh coconuts. One day I helped the entire island population of men (like four-ish) salvaging a half-sunken boat, another I decided to swim to a sandbank, all by myself. Katja was worried for me so she made me tie a buoy to my waist. One always underestimates distances when swimming. It took a whopping 30 minutes to reach the bank, so I was glad she insisted.

After a month of Fijian paradise it was time to cross the date line and fly back in time to Los Angeles. My Fiji adventure ended as it had started; with a thrill. Getting to the airport meant a private boat transfer to the main island and a public bus (again). Once on the bus I believed myself to be safe but at some point it halted and wouldn’t move for ages. Due to the persistent rainy weather the main road was partially washed away! Gone, adios, see you never. Unfortunately Sandra Bullock was unavailable to get behind the steering wheel, accelerate over 50 miles an hour and drive over the huge gap. A considerable detour later and several near-nervous breakdowns, I just about managed to catch my flight to L.A. where I met up with relatives and had the most bizarre Hollywood Boulevard experience.

[housebird]

OOOOOOO THANK YOU FOR SHOWING ME i love hearing about this sorta thing

i also had a CD player from very little! it was to help me go to sleep and i still have the CDs today, but i don’t use them anymore (hence the angelina ballerina and moana CDs still living in the stack; i would never get rid of them). i burn CDs now as well, so i have a couple of blank jewel cases in there (i’m much more diligent on decorating them when i make em for other people, i still need to make the covers for the ones i own)

here is my collection!!! photos AND i’m putting the descriptions under the readmore (hopefully it works. never done one before) because it is WAY longer than i anticipated <\3

bluey, bluey: lonely cassette among the ranks. got it off bandcamp, i highly recommend this EP it’s good. luckily my old ass CD player can play cassettes

THE BURNED CDs:

cry club, spite will save me

the crane wives, the fool in her wedding gown

+ a spare mix i made for a friend which is missing a song, so i kept this one and gave her the right one

i love burning CDs! i try and get the actual CD when i can because i like the booklet inserts but burning is my go to after that. i usually buy the music off bandcamp! my only barrier is finding cases and making the covers. on the to do list is figuring out how to make booklets that fit inside, preferably in a square shape. i really want to make them for lyrics! especially when i drive my siblings places (little sister 2 loves to read the lyrics along with the song and ask me what every song means)

THE ODDS N ENDS:

the veronicas, all the hottest 100s, midnight oil, les mis anniversary concert, taylor swift, 1989

these are mostly ones i have from my dad! he has a huge collection (somewhere in a box… sigh, i miss you, regina spektor begin to hope CD i know you’re out there). i don’t listen to them as much, aside from 1989 when my sisters request it. 1989 was also the first CD i ever bought with my own money and it still has the sticker talking about the HIT SINGLE SHAKE IT OFF lol

THE MUSICALS:

wicked, be more chill, hadestown

these guys get their own category because i LOVE THEM. i bought the wicked CD when i saw it for my bday this year but i’ve been listening to my parents’ copy for roughly 10 years or so iirc? wicked is so so so special to me

THE REGULARS:

missy higgins, the sound of white

missy higgins, on a clear night

both of these i got from my dad’s collection and i do not intend to tell him because i want to keep them. i <3 you casualty and 100 round the bends!!!!

regina spektor, what we saw from the cheap seats: another stolen dad CD!

ball park music, ball park music

ball park music, good mood

ball park music, weirder and weirder

JB hifi grabs! i love these albums a ton. i really want to see BPM live again someday

montaigne, glorious heights: another JB hifi, it was on special for $10 (!!!!!)

the wombats, a guide to love, loss and desperation: my ONLY lucky find at an op shop. i was very excited to find this one, it’s probably the album i know best from them

hozier, hozier

hozier, wasteland, baby!

mitski, laurel hell

i bought these three together to kick start my collection for my car, so they’ve had a lot of driving time. hozier’s self titled in particular reminds me a lot of being on my Ls….

beach bunny, emotional creature

beach bunny, honeymoon

cavetown, sleepyhead

aside from honeymoon, these were the first CDs i bought online, again for the car collection. i have very specific personal associations with the emotional creature album!!

the beths, expert in a dying field: i bought myself this CD online and THEN found it instore so i had to do a quick online refund to grab it because i had been listening to it on spotify for a couple days and completely fell in love

wet leg, wet leg: i listened to this album a lot while doing uni work last year!

courtney barnett, things take time, take time: i originally borrowed this album from the library because i really liked one song from it (write a list of things to look forward to) and then fell in love with the whole thing (sunfair sundown is an extremely lucretia adventurezone thinking about magnus burnsides song to me!!!)

orla gartland, woman on the internet: this album is obviously fantastic but also the CD case itself is very cool. it’s the paper but the CD has its own little plastic turn tray which makes it super easy to pop out

odie, full colour book of cats

emily brown, a fish of earth

both of these are from bandcamp and i got the emily brown one for free with the odie CD!!!!! it was extremely sweet of them and i really need to buy emily’s first album at some point

boygenius, the record: i spent the last of a JB hifi gift card on it and i don’t regret it! it’s living in my car atm with weirder and weirder as my current commute CDs

wow. that’s so many. thank u for reading <3

HELLO please tell me about your cd collection?? i would love to hear about it genuinely

HAIII BELL!!! i am more than happy to talk about my cds!!!

i included pics of my current collection 🕺!

i’ve been collecting them most of my life. i got given a cd player at a young age which is why i started collecting. as a kid it was mostly so fresh & now hits of summer cds that are still somewhere in the house (also alvin & the chipmunks).

these days i collect them because my car is old and doesn’t have aux or bluetooth so cds and the radio get me through. i’ve included pics of my glovebox, the ones that live in a bag cause i have too many to fit in said glovebox & my current listen. i’ll just list them as they appear and where i got them from!!

gorillaz, the now now- bought first hand. at the time i was listening to it almost daily

gorillaz, demon days- actually belongs to my sister. she doesn’t have a cd player so it judt lives in my car for when we go on drives

twenty one pilots, trench- a gift for my birthday last year. i have most of tøps discography and i was obsessed with it when it released (saw them in concert & everything)

my chemical romance, the black parade- found this one in an op shop. there’s a few i got at the same time, some emo must’ve donated their collection in one go. love this album its one i listen to a lot

panic! at the disco, a fever you cant sweat out- also found in the op shop haul!

panic! at the disco, pretty odd- another op shop haul find. i didn’t listen to this album a load back then compared to the rest of their stuff but its one of my faves now

my chemical romance, three cheers for sweet revenge- shocking news, found this in the op shop haul!

bastille, all this bad blood- at some point during my teens i spend my pocket money on this. definitely glad i still have it, there’s so much music on that album & i still love bastille

twenty one pilots, blurryface- another one i spent my pocket money on!!

twenty one pilots, vessel- another pocket money purchase

fall out boy, folie à deux- found in the op shop haul. didn’t even listen to this album at the time & i forgot i had it until way after i fixated on it and then went through my collection again

fall out boy, infinity on high- another op shop find, very fun find!! was a fave at the time

fall out boy, american beauty/american psycho- op shop haul find!!

fall out boy, save rock and roll- op shop haul find!!!

my chemical romance, danger days- my brother found this one in an op shop for me

will wood and the tapeworms, everything is a lot- bought this one online when he dropped the last of the original pressings a few years back. its signed but the signature is rubbing off a bit

will wood, in case i make it- i got this one when i backed the album when he was fundraising for it

the libertines, up the bracket- i think my mum gave this to me, i’ve never listened to it lol

janelle monáe, the archandroid- dad gave this to me. one of my favourite albums of all time

sara bareilles, whats inside: songs from waitress- this was a pocket money buy. i think i bought this before i actually listened to the waitress musical? so it was my introduction to it and then waitress was what made me fall in love with musical theatre

the hush sound, like vines- found this in a record shop. was very excited, i was playing one of their songs on repeat at the time

pulp, different class- mum gave me this one as well

the breeders, cannonball- my dad got it for my brother who didn’t want it and i slid in like hi, yes i love the breeders, this is mine bye.

troye sivan, wild- a pocket money buy. i really wanted blue neighbourhood but they only had this ep so its what i got

sara bareilles, the blessed unrest- another pocket money buy, i had a huge sara bareilles phase at some point in highschool

the scary jokes, retinal bloom- bought this one in one of the packs when the album was about to be dropped. gawd i love the scary jokes

the scary jokes, burn pygmion!!! a better guide to romance- what i listened to todayyy. probably my number one album ever this was a christmas gift!!

theres two fob cds i skipped cause they’re just a compilation & cd that all the songs on are on my other cds.

theres so many more that have come and left my collection but this is where its at now and i can’t waiiiit to find more!! especially w my damn car. NOW TELL ME ABOUT YOURS (please ^3^!)

[yukihime03]

MC knows what’s up 😂