#yeah I never got through making that edit cause of school :/

[fakemonalisa28]

So I made this concept album idea for Olivia Rodrigo, cause I’m a loser who does those sort of things, and one of the singles was called The Vampire and ummm

Olivia came into my house and read my mind fr

[svndaysaweek]

Overture (Prequel to Enlightenment) — {Feat. Karina}

8.7k words

A/N: You don’t know how old this draft is… I still remember that anon who sent a few asks about this series, and I really hope that they read this! This one is the longest I’ve ever written. Might not be the best piece, but I’m so proud of myself that I did my best. Thank you @dnd-writes for editing and giving me awesome advices. Enjoy!

*Prequel to “Enlightenment”

******

“Doesn’t matter how the two met. It’s about how they’re together ‘til now.”

******

It’s the first day in your new high school. It’s already March but the breeze is yet to blow winter away, strongly acclaiming its presence with the icy wind you face as soon as you come out of the main building of your school to go to the cafeteria. You haven’t made any friends to have lunch with yet, so you change your mind to just head to the smoking spot–behind the auditorium which is already an alien building itself–and kill some time smoking. You turn your way to the smoking spot inside the huge tide of students heading to the cafeteria. Freezing air makes you pace up to the spot.

After passing a few corners where even the wind has been disturbed to travel through, you find a drum can with fire in it making a peaceful crackling sound.

And a girl standing right by it as if wanting to get burnt. “Are you the new one?” Her voice is sharp enough to make it sound wary, yet quite chirpy to end up hitting you as rather coquettish.

“I don’t… I don't really know you,” Your steps towards her contradict your words. “Me neither.” At the fire you light your own cigarette. Your eyes scan her body from the ground to meet hers doing the same to you. The yellow name tag catches your eyes. Her name is Yu Jimin, third grade. And where the name tag is what makes your attention gather up too–perfect size, matches her wavy figure and sassy face, calmly heaves when she’s inhaling in the smoke.

“My name’s not that hard to read,” That’s when you realize that Yu Jimin, this unusual girl, will be an attraction with challenges. It’s all in her grin, in her turbid eyes that never leave yours–to be honest, it’s yours that never leaves hers; they won’t let the leash on your eyes loosen, until she wants to.

You suck it in, and breathe out a mouthful of smoke in the cold air. You look at her again and she's been watching you thoroughly, from head to toe, examining your body, shape, façade and all things she finds nice to look at, regardless of you mirroring her like once isn’t really enough.

She’s got such a nice, sculpted body, hidden under the school uniform but even more premo like that; concave and convex, it just hugs her curves impeccably. Narrow waist and wide, tight hips causing the skirt to struggle not to be torn apart. What’s more is her face, at the height of your chest, looking almost unrealistic, inhumanly beautiful, especially with a shallow grin like right now.

You are automatically making steps toward Jimin and she’s not backing up. You turn your head right to let out the smoke and then return to the ongoing gaze between you two.

“Don’t I look cold?” Jimin steps backwards, from the fire and from you. It makes you just automatically look at her legs, so slick and teem with femininity. You keep following what she tells you to do, what the hormones tell you to do.

“What do you want me to say?” It should be delivered as a counterattack to the dominance Jimin has shown you, but it, unfortunately, ends up sounding as if you were really confused. And Jimin almost bursts into laughter which she manages to hold in.

“So, third grade? What class are you in?”

“Two. You?” You drop the used cigarette and step on it to put it out. “Four. I’ll drop by sometime, handsome.”

Then she leaves the spot just like that. You are so interested in the girl Yoo Jimin. Given that she’s pretty like that, smokes around, she’s nothing like the normal students, obviously. And you can tell Jimin also found you special. Yeah, you know people don’t get to see a man like you quite often. You also know you don’t get to see a girl so appetizing like her often. It’s third year in highschool. You’re no amateur to let a girl play you around, rather, you’ve learned to control those feisty, hungry girls, but ugh, to be honest you don’t know what’s going on. 

******

She never comes to see you until the end of school. Nor do you, because you thought you could wait–precisely, you thought you had to wait. You definitely want to take the upper hand in this new relationship so you just head home, yet with a bit of disappointment. But you don’t let anyone know. Maybe she’s just playing you out. That’s unacceptable for you. You calmly wait for the bus deep in thought. Maybe find someone else tomorrow. I don’t know.

“Hey, going somewhere?”

Fuck. It’s her. Jimin.

You think of complaining, but swallow it back and answer. “Home. You?” Jimin shrugs with nonchalance. “I don’t know. Your place, maybe? Do you live alone?” She lunges in suddenly, and you could just let her be as spunky as she can be. “I do. Why do you want to know that?” You throw a question, feigning calmness, and Jimin just smirks back.

“Don’t ask me.”

You’re on the bus. You let Jimin take the window side and sit next to her. You stuff your ears with some random songs and lock your eyes to the screen in your palm to leave the absorbing girl next to you out of your world even for a second.

“What made you move to my school?” Suddenly one of your earphones is between her fingers, your arm in hers to squish her breast slightly which feels so intentional. This bold little chick keeps surprising you in unforeseeable ways. Besides, you can read that she’s definitely testing you. Seems a little bit like an upside-down situation, for you to be the object, and oh, don’t you say you don’t find this rather fun.

“Well, there was an accident. You don’t need to know any further.” Her questions don’t seem to end, however. An eye roll might silence her—

“You can tell me. It’s alri-“

“You’d better shut the fuck up, Jimin.” Your fingers hold her chin up, facing you, merely a breath away as your noses tickle each other. And what gets you a moment later is her eyes, round and glowy, that could easily see through your brain, trying to suffocate you in the vivid yet gooey gaze. And there she plants her words straight into your brain; I’m a little impressed, but try harder. 

A sudden squeak of the brake informs you to get off. You step out of the bus and Jimin quietly follows. Then you start walking at a rather slow pace. The sound of another pair of footsteps is the only clue of her existence for you.

“You made me wait.” You break the silence as you near your house. You don’t bother turning back to be an audience for her commanding attitude, but her cockiness nonetheless makes it to your ears.

“Well, I might have just forgotten. My bad.” You unlock the door, let Jimin in and close it. Right after the thud you pin her arms over her head with one hand, eliciting a sharp yelp from her.

“You made me fucking wait, Jimin. You’ll have to pay for it.” Your face is just a few inches from hers again. Your straining voice is mixed with her breath, hot, and your burning gaze never leaves hers, to return the blow that she had on your mind; you don’t know me yet.

“You should feel lucky.”

“Why?”

“I’m interested in you.” Jimin’s words, however, don’t sound tense or weak despite your visible dominance. Rather, it’s an impudent confidence that defies the dynamic knotted between your eyes. Jimin herself visualizes it with an even wider smile, dense with deliberate harm to your ego.

“Mmm…!” You dive into Jimin’s lips while your other hand suddenly wraps around her neck hard. Keeping the chokehold still, your hand once holding her wrists tears her school shirt open, letting the buttons randomly fly to the floor. With her hands free, they dangle on your arms. Her demure hand tries to push you back from her neck, but her tongue is flapping inside your mouth, already allured by the intenseness. Your other hand hesitates about before swiftly undoing her bra and Jimin drops it on the floor. You squeeze the godly pair of flesh and soon pull back from the kiss.

“Shit, you like it rough, huh?” Jimin giggles, with a killing lip bite, and discards her buttonless shirt. There you feel something kick your heart, to see a girl enjoying your selfishness and harshness for the first time. A thought that this girl might be the one for you passes through your mind like a hit-and-run truck.

You turn yourselves around and make Jimin walk backwards to your bedroom with your guide. Jimin doesn't wait to unbutton your shirt on your way, and the corners of her lips soon get pulled down by the lust exponentially charging up. You try to look calm but you’re no different–can’t help it in front of this amazing figure of Jimin, skin-to-skin just for you.

Entering the bedroom you push Jimin onto the bed. Her under lip experiences another intense bite as you lay her down and climb over her body, face to face just like a few minutes ago. With one hand supporting your weight, you take the other to her irresistible breasts and fondle them. Jimin hooks her arms and magnetizes your lips to hers for a delirious lip lock once again. Your hand slides down her torso to the button of her uniform skirt and undoes it then takes it off of her fatal legs and throws it to the floor.

“Next time you won’t wear these, okay?” It’s a demand but also a command, with your fingers on the wet spot on her panties. Her hands find themselves wandering on your toned chest, much in admiration. She nods quickly and unbuckles your pants.

“Needy,” Her hastiness makes you grin, and your words only make Jimin’s excitement grow.

“Yes. I am.” This is what makes you wanna accept the challenge; she’s talking things like that all too fresh, like you have to feel thankful for it. You take your pants off with your underwear to be fully naked. You help Jimin get rid of the annoying cloth being dampened by her pussy off her legs and throw it to the pile of clothes on the floor. With the anticipation for the next step Jimin’s breath paces up, running thin like her patience.

“You’re fucking big…” Jimin marvels at the way your cock tickles her belly button and her tummy. You slap her bare stomach a few times with your cock, spit on it and spread the slickness across with slow strokes.

“I said you’ll have to pay for it, Jimin,” You rub your cock on her wetness, gaining more lubrication, and slap your cock on her folds to see her reaction.

“Ah, please make me…Make me-OH FUCK…!” You push into the hilt with a swift thrust. The tightness draws a groan straight from your throat, and your right hand rises to her neck and chokes her hard again.

“You tell me who’s lucky. You think it’s still me?” Straight to the point that has been bothering you ever since it was spoken. You love to make things clear—dirty—who’s the one to stand and who’s the one to kneel. And if she ever intended to get under your skin, well, she pushed the wrong button.

Jimin’s eyes slam shut, unlike her agape mouth through which you can see her tongue has lost its way, dragged here and there by the hand of her senses, overthrown by what you’re doing. You keep thrusting in and out at such a pace, every time making sure your balls hit her ass, filling her tight hole up ecstatically with no vacancy.

“Hah, god…! It’s me, I’m the lucky one! I’m so fucking lucky to have your big cock inside me!”

“Good. See, your act doesn’t last a day.”

Her lips tremble, as if about to cry, as if all the fucking around was just a pretense and she actually has to be under you. She bites the lower one but can’t hold the shiver down. 

You move your hand from Jimin’s neck to her face, grabbing her cheeks in one grip. You bring her face close to yours, both shaking to the orgasmic rhythm but never losing eye contact. Then you slap her cheeks, out of nowhere, just enough for the sound to be pleasurable but not too painful. Jimin starts to drool when you do that several times more, with loud, long moans gradually turning into screams.

“Oh, fuck, yes…! FUCK YES…!” Done with the hitting, you push in your fingers to Jimin’s unsilent mouth to get a better hold of her body. A teardrop leaves her glossy eyes and rolls down to where her ear is. A perfect mixture of pain and pleasure, both of which makes you two forget about tomorrow.

“I’m cumming, Jesus! I-I… Fucking cummi-“ Jimin’s back viciously arches so upward that you almost slip out. Her arms don’t seem to settle for a while before they dig into your back to work as anchors, her body vulnerable in the midst of a destructive swirl of pleasure. But that’s none of your concern as you make the haze in her head threaten her consciousness.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” You wait for Jimin to come down but that’s so silly of you to do so; your ravageous ramming cock never lets her. All of a sudden you pull out, causing Jimin to shake immensely, and flip her on all fours. Her sex is glistening and the other hole is too, both of them slick with her juices and constricting irregularly.

When Jimin feels your cock rub on her pussy she collapses onto the mattress, only her ass up and her face down, exhausted on the bed, faced to the right. But whenever your cock teases her other hole Jimin shudders, toes curl and her fists try to tear your sheets at the sensation of her asshole getting stimulated.

“Agh, fuck…” You don’t warn Jimin when you insert the head of your cock inside her tight ass. This time even you can’t handle the pleasure of its tremendous tightness as you shut your eyes and groan loudly.

“Holy fuck, Jimin, this is so tight,” You tell her when you’re halfway in. Her body stays still, but her hands ball up and her toes curl until they all become pale. Every inch deeper inside her ass is the moment for you to admire the transcendental tightness you’ve never experienced from those other girls you have been through. Maybe you’re lucky too, to have found this perfect body with nothing to lament on.

“Oh, please, that’s deep! Fuck my ass deep just like-oh my fucking god!” Your reaction is quick—it’s more of a reflection though—doing more than what Jimin asked even before she finishes her words, beginning the mindless assfuck with such a carefree pace. You bring her powerless head up with your hand wrapped around her neck, tight, choking her again. The tighter you grip, the tighter her ass gets. You catch a glimpse of the crooked corner of her lips, which only fuels your inner engines to work even harder.

It’s just your thing; when you see a smile, you have to break it. You destroy it, and you sincerely cherish it when it’s gone.

As you reach your maximum speed Jimin’s distorted smile subsides and an even more euphoric look spreads. Mouth open wide, drooling down her chin and onto your hand on her throat, eyes open but white. As if she muted herself, Jimin doesn’t even breathe—not only because of your grip, but also the orgasm building up as fast as how you ram her ass. You grin at the sight of Jimin drowning in the sensations her own nerves convey; you create. It kills you how small her body is, when you can witness a simple—yet ruthless—piston to her crotch can dye her whole skin red, travel electrically to everywhere in no time, shrinking every minimal muscle. You release her, she falls down limp on the bed and screams at the anal orgasm hitting her, threatening her consciousness.

“Ahh! Fuck, fuck…!” You’re nowhere far from your own end, either. Your breath shallows down at the crazy tightness of Jimin’s orgasming ass. 

“Jimin, I’m cumming…!” You do. You reach as deep inside her anal cavern as you can and unload your cum, mind blowing pleasure coursing through every corner of your body. You shoot, and shoot, and shoot. Jimin clenches her hole for your cum to be deposited inside her with a lazy hum, in harmony with your groan seeping out of your gritted teeth.

It takes a few minutes for your breaths to find the normal speed. “No one’s fucked my ass this amazing,”

It surely was enough to bring amazement, undoubtedly the best you’ve had so far. You sit up and rearrange her hair for her.

“Did I pay for it?“ Jimin’s already got that bright smile back, and after such an extreme sex your barriers collapse in front of her, as you smile back at her.

“Very much.”

“Can you get my phone? It’s in my skirt.” You head to the pile of discarded clothes and do it for Jimin, who’s sitting on the bed with her head resting on the headboard. You toss it on the bed.

Jimin looks into her phone right away, scrolls down mindlessly and looks at you, who’s naked and standing next to the bed.

“Take a shower first, baby.”

Baby, she said.

Your eyes dart to hers immediately. Your face stays placid but you know Jimin knows you’re not at all used to it. You never really allow any strings attached with the ones you fuck; it’s a rather body-to-body entanglement than something emotional. But you’re surprised at how that word fits comfortably between you two. There’s something different. You look back at Jimin but her attention is taken by her phone already, again like a hit-and-run truck, but not completely as you can see her smirk the way you love. So you just enter the bathroom. 

In the shower you review the past 30 minutes—you had sex with the girl Yoo Jimin: nothing special. But not just that; Jimin has by far the best body of all the other girls you’ve experienced. You can tell you really enjoyed it today. You can tell she’s worthy of continuing the relationship. You like the way Jimin turns from a bubbly, sassy girl in school to a begging, screaming mess in bed under you. And the way she calls you baby—it dulls all your edges like a cup of boiling water would do to an ice cube. Just like the hot water pouring on your head.

You come out of the shower and see Jimin smoking on your bed, sitting on the edge with her legs crossed, elbow on her thigh, still aesthetically naked. She looks gorgeous like that. You walk to her, take the cigarette from her hand to your mouth. Then push her down on the bed, breathe the smoke in deep and throw the shortened cigarette away to the bin next to bed, breathe out, and share a smoky kiss.

A few moments later your rod pokes at her belly and Jimin parts away with a giggle.

“Fuck, I really have to clean my body.” You bring her off the bed with you. “Shut up and get down here,” With a smirk she does, and as soon as she adjusts her legs and position you shove your cock in her mouth. A gag earned.

But after that Jimin takes your big cock pretty well, without gagging or looking uncomfortable, even when her nose crashes on your crotch; you’ve found yourself a perfect girl, indeed.

“Nice.” Her teary eyes never leave yours throughout the session as you pace up for a brief finish. Adjusting to the speed of your cock moving entirely in and out, Jimin’s hands go up to the back of your thighs for firmer grip.

Jimin’s drool tickles down your balls and forms a small puddle on the floor. With the filthiest slurping sound Jimin bobs her head at the beat of your cock sliding through. Whenever her delicate tongue presses onto the underside of your cock you throb inside her mouth, making her head slightly move simultaneously.

Jimin’s tears meet the drool on her chin, and with a sound of her voice from her throat Jimin taps your thighs for you to pull out. You take your cock out of her mouth and slap it on her fucked face a few times, painting her face with her own saliva, to her liking.

“Finish it.”

Put the shower aside, and you shower Jimin with your lust deep into her throat. You feel your legs not far from giving in, but thankfully your cock is just the same, due to what Jimin is doing under you.

“Jimin, I’m-I’m close.”

Jimin starts to fondle your balls and that certainly helps you cross the line. In no time you fill her throat up white, and the room with your satisfied groan.

You look straight into Jimin’s eyes when you cum, and it’s astonishingly reciprocated when she gulps down your load quickly, professionally. As soon as you are done pouring into Jimin she stands up, showing you her clean tongue with a tilt of her head, and heads to the bathroom. You, left alone, giggle quietly and sprawl on the bed after putting on underwear. 

******

“Text me at lunch break. You know where to meet me.” You just nod at Jimin, who’s in one of your T-shirts that is just a little bit big for her; loss of all the buttons on her uniform comes at a cost. An inner beam blooms under your face when you find her just too perfect in that outfit of school skirt with your T-shirt tucked under it. Those unhidden bra lines count as one of many reasons for you to stare at her, take her in your arms right now and-

“Not now, perv.” Her smirk lets yours surface up to reciprocate hers. You stand up from the bed, approach her and walk her backwards to the wall. Jimin has been playful and relaxed with you and you like it. But when you—just like right now—detect submission in her eyes: you love it. You don’t stop your hand from rising up for her neck and have a good grip around it. You don’t stop the other from being pulled away to her gracious tits and squeezing them.

“Not now?” And there are those big eyes begging for you to go further, that bitten lower lip asking for any contact, as if the one who just quipped ‘not now’ choked out. Always hits you differently when she just switches from a brat to a subby mess out of control.

Contradiction is the most normal of things when you have a tight grip over Jimin. Her reddening face gradually forms a thin smirk when your lips close in to hers. Her eyes close, lips part for a mind-numbing kiss—

“Not now.” You make a sudden pull back and release Jimin from your grip. She stumbles and almost collapses on the floor so you hold her in your arms. For the same purpose and then some, her arms rest on your shoulders and pull you in, only to be denied by your hand pushing her chest off of you, leaving Jimin just keeping a hungry gaze at your lips and whimpering “Please.”

You finish tying the necktie, bring your thumb up to her lips. As it sweeps over them Jimin lets her tongue coat your thumb with her saliva which could’ve blended perfectly with yours.

“To the spot at lunch break, Jimin. And ah,” You stand down and pull her panties down in one sway and she helps herself out of them by lifting her legs respectively. You toss it on the bed and rise up again, for your collarbone to match her height, for her to look up at you again.

“You don’t wear the same panties for two days straight, do you?” Jimin just nods quickly and tries to crush her lips on yours yet again. Seems like she wouldn’t care even if you made her go to school all nude, if she could just mix her tongue with yours right now. Her efforts to make you kiss her is visible to you; eyes so seductive yet not able to take themselves off of their foremost target, lips slightly open for her tongue to peek outside. Seeing that you just step back and prepare to leave for school with an unseen smirk.

“Let’s go.”

******

As anticipated, needy and untidy Yoo Jimin sends you a dozen pictures of her bare crotch under her skirt, saying ‘Want your fingers inside’, ‘Can’t wait for the lunch break.’ Those are to be left on read.

Morning classes fly by as the bell rings to announce the lunch break. The class rushes out for lunch, has a race among them with some of them even running like they have something to win. And amongst that crowd you head to the spot, to Yoo Jimin.

She’s there already waiting for you when you turn the last corner. Legs crossed, back on the brick wall and a half-spent cigarette between her lips, looking so delinquent there with that insanely short skirt and in the shirt you gave. She notices you, has a reet smile on her and throws the cigarette on the ground, and watches you approach her standing still. No immaterial words or acts are needed when you can just kiss those lips like they’re yours. The remnant of the cigarette a fume that makes you dive deeper into this trance her tongue and yours are building, you spontaneously get rid of her skirt and are met with the wet skin under it.

Your fingers taste her crotch, slowly rubbing around and poised for any further indulgence. Her hands are, on the other hand, hectic with your buttons and when they’re done they swiftly go down to your belt. Your pants drop to your ankles in no time with your underwear, and with your erect cock emancipated, Jimin detaches from the kiss and spits on your cock and spreads it.

It all happens so fast that you are still enraptured by the kiss and her tits in your palms, leaving so many treats unfelt to your body. The next second you are inside her, making it even headier for you to follow up.

“Fuck, I needed this.” Jimin grits. With no clue of downshifting she takes the shirt off, her bra to follow suit, and hooks her arms around your neck to stand the frantic sex she wants from you. And that happens right away, as your instinct drops the hammer for you to automatically thrust into her even before you find yourself moaning at the sensation of her inside.

You keep your eyes closed while wrecking her pussy despite the eye candy that is Yoo Jimin during sex, and suddenly you notice her teeth on your shoulder. It’s a pain that can make you grin, that can make you savor the feeling, even it gets even stronger, because now you know that when she bites, she cums. Her legs give in, and you know it by the weight of her arms around your neck. Her walls clench harshly and there’s a stream of her juice down your legs when she cums. Yoo Jimin is so tactile, and when she cums her whole body does, for yours to recognize, you don’t even have to hearken to know it. The auditory input hits your brain the last, the pearly, shaky yelp of the orgasming needy girl adds up to all the stimuli you are taking.

When she comes down you slow down, lazily reaching her cervix as she hums at it every time.

“Kiss me, baby.” You do. It’s saccharine to your tongue. Her tongue distraughtly moves around inside your mouth, some of the drool leaking onto her tits to make it even more impeccable. The gustation mesmerizes you into a rabid sex, this time for yourself to get off. No subduing, only upshifts lead the way as you turn her around, put it back in and lavish thrusts into her sex.

“Shit. Jimin, you’re so fucking perfect.” You’re not saying this again because she might not have heard it; you are repeating it like a low-functioning machine because you’re afraid you haven’t said it enough. And she can condone it—of course she can, it’s a compliment anyway—because she knows it already, because the feeling’s mutual. You say it several more times on the back of her neck, almost making it a tattoo, carving it in intaglio. Still deranged, Jimin is just screaming with her back arching to the sky and carotically facing the brick wall with her left cheek. The right side of her face is rosed up, and her eye has a glimpse of you, your wry face and the sweat-coated torso and shuts and she cums just like that. 

Her breaths are shallow, irregular, a gusty fluid squelches out of her pussy and the scene of her orgasm is intimidating your endurance, easily sending you to an orgasmic stupor and making you spurt out inside her with a gritted groan. 

“Jimin, I… God, fuck…!” To your overstimulated cock Jimin has her shrewd tongue on it, sealed with her lips. Makes your legs wobble, unmercifully agitating your mind with frenzy, but just until she clears your shaft up clean from the tabloid juices all over it.

“I loved it. Maybe we should make it daily.” Jimin rises up, with her skirt and your shirt in her hands and still breathing somewhat heavily. And the desecrated smile on her face is the coercion for you to wear one too, a copacetic one. Shirt on, a smoking cigarette between your fingers, you insinuate to her.

“Your panties are still on my bed, you know.” And she’s shrewd with it—has been from the very beginning—and purrs. “Mhmm, I’m going to go fetch it after school with you.”

Of course, is what your nods that follows says, and there’s my girl, says your zest-filled grin, looking at her back that walks out of the corner. It’s always that intrinsic sass you could simply, so simply kill for. Maybe a challenge for you, maybe a finesse for you to be benumbly trapped into. It’s your choice, and from some point on the latter looks dazzling to you; maybe you’re a person who just dyes so well, to a derogated girl who seemed to have taken everything you’ve given but turns out she just put you in the phantasma of her own stardust without you realizing it—you’ve lost it in her, somehow. And that’s bizarre: and you love it.

******

You’re standing at the bus stop, hands in your pocket and looking around to find your girl. When you do, you’re so surprised at how Jimin so stands out among all the crowd while doing nothing but just walk. Even from miles out you’re sure you’ll spot her in a second. The belle of the crowd, wherever she is. She’s not the tallest but still piques herself on her to-die-for aura like she blurs everyone out. As if she sensed the scrutiny, Jimin looks up from her phone, looks around and soon finds you looking at her. You hate to be seen so infatuated like this but you can’t help it, as your eyes meet hers and your face brightens up, half from seeing her and half at yourself caught like that.

“That happy to see me?” You don’t answer, just bring your hands to her crotch and check there’s no underwear blocking your way. A flick over her uncovered pussy earns you a shocked look.

“This is not your bedroom!” Jimin shouts in whisper, but not with caution, but an intrigued grin with eyes darting around the crowd waiting for the bus.

“Are you telling me to stop?” You take your fingers to her mouth, her tongue welcoming the taste of horniness coated all over your fingers. “I’m telling you not to stop.”

So your hand returns to her pussy. You’re rubbing, tapping on and hooking your fingers in, Jimin bites on her own fingers not to relinquish her scream. You hold her trembling body as steady as possible but you know that it’ll be absolutely normal if the people around you realize that you two are having a little fun explicitly in public. Everyone’s looking at you and Jimin in front of you, facing the same way as you and receiving that dirty fingering amongst so many audiences.

In a few minutes the bus is here, to show you only one vacant seat left. You take the seat and Jimin sits on your lap, facing backwards and hugging your neck. You resume the unholy yet entertaining fingering to the pretty moaning girl on your lap.

And you return to who you really are: you’re a gentleman yourself, with etiquette, with common decency, to pull Jimin’s head down on your shoulder to muffle her nasty sound on it. You know even the driver is looking at you through the mirror, but that’s because of her, not you; again, you’re making no noise, and Jimin in your embrace is the culprit of all the squeaky, watery, moaning noise, not you. 

“Quiet, Jimin.” Now her teeth dig into your skin, synchronizing with your fingers indulging into her wet, tight hole. You know what you’re doing won’t shut her up. You’re just saying it, a formality. Inside your mind you want her to moan loudly, at the same time want to see her struggle keeping it quiet. So you yank her hair back to watch her distorted face, observe every tiny wriggle of her expression.

“Ah…!” Look into her eyes as if wanting to pierce through them. Jimin looks at you too, flooding with lust, drowning in her own sensations of sex and embarrassment of being exposed in such a public situation. “I’m almost there.” It’s a plain text but she’s begging there. She says she’s almost there but she’s already there, as it seems.

“Yeah, we’re almost there.” A bump on the road makes your fingers hit her spot, makes her back arc, makes her almost, almost lose it right there. You pull out your fingers from her hot cavern to the relatively cool air of the bus. Her liquid feels fresh out in the air but that feeling is soon lost, by her tongue wrapping them up and sucking it clean—suckling it dirty.

The bus stops right then for only you and Jimin to get off. It’s much quieter than inside the bus, partially due to you not fingerfucking her anymore. In no time you’re at the door of your house, unlock it, swing open and it slams shut. Simultaneously Jimin hops on you and dive into your mouth with hers. You stumble through to your bedroom, toss her on the bed, swiftly undo your belt and pants with your boxers, let your already hard dick spring out but don't let it feel the air as it vanishes into Jimin’s waiting pussy right away.

No one speaks a word. No one can, to be fair. You two are merely inches away from dying, too impatient to wait another second. And there you let Jimin approach death a bit closer by holding her neck around, a perfect necklace for her, and straining your hand. Jimin’s mouth is open, difficulty in breathing so visible, face reddening but there’s still her hunger in it; she grins. Her smile is so cruel, violent, so evil yet joyful, as if she’s the victimizer and you’re the victim.

“Please, baby… Kill me. Fucking choke me to death, please, choke me and kill me-fuck!” You make her scream when you slap her tits, as if you were angry at her, but you’re the opposite—you love her so much that you just want to abuse her, to her liking, just like right now. All her sensations seem to evaporate as her eyes roll back and her hands drop to her sides spiritlessly: or, airlessly. You let her go, not wanting to actually kill her.

With a giant inhale Jimin returns from the border of unconsciousness. Her hands travel from her own tits, your hands, and soon back to the sheets, still wandering in need for anything to release the tension. So you pin down her wrists and pace up your thrusts.

“Fuck, Jimin. Don’t tempt me. You make me really want to fuck you dead.” You’re saying it right on her face, which enables her to feel that you mean it. There she tries to kiss your lips, but you pull back with agility, instead covering her mouth and nose with your palm, again suffocating her to your liking, to your loving, to your abnormal, psychopathic obsession.

“I want to see you struggle for life. I want to see you beg for life. You’ll look so perfect like that.” Jimin screams into your hand, covers it with her saliva and tears. You close in with your other hand groping her tit and your cock hitting everywhere inside her squeezing cunt. Jimin’s eyes widen as her orgasm fades in, muffling “I’m cumming!” Several times on your palm before peaking like never before. Her orgasm never gives her the time to even shut her eyes as they roll into her head. Her scream penetrates your hand over her mouth as it departs on your ears so deliciously.

That’s what psychopaths do, isn’t it? To experience the catharsis washing over your spine and get off with how a person screams, all helpless, with tears, shallow breaths as if soon going to die, or at least pass out. Maybe it’s that she’s making it clear about who you are. Would be a pleasure to embrace it.

And it’s your turn now. You pull out, escaping Jimin’s spent pussy with quite an amount of her squirt, leaving her all trembling and arching. There’s a layer of sweat all over her body and it makes it look like a scene from any pornography. Jimin doesn’t move a bit-only her chest is heavily healing up and down, even after you flip her upside down.

You tease her asshole with your middle finger and when she senses it enter she helps you by spreading her cheeks for deeper insertion. No resistance in and out of her ass. Every curl inside her ass makes Jimin squeeze her own cheeks as a response with a powerless moan. “Mmm, fuck me please… I’m not done yet.” Of course. You grin and prepare your cock for the second entrance as you pull Jimin up on all fours. Her arms give up when you rub your glistening cock on her pussy lips. And her reason gives up when you penetrate her rear hole.

“Ahh-fuck yes!”

“Holy fuck. This is so tight.” Her tightness erases your patience to savor it slowly. You start ruining her ass with the intention of actually destroying it. Jimin frowns, loud moan seeping through the bitten lip, hands curling into fists but arms all powerless on her sides.

“It’s so good, it’s so fucking good…! Don’t stop it baby. Make me cum like a fucking whore…!” Her voice can’t even get louder when her words just melt on the mattress just like her. Her words turn to nothings, eyes squeeze shut, concentrating all her senses to where she’s getting fucked. You feel your eyelids become heavier every single thrust, but the visual pleasure is just too good to give up watching it-her ass up for you to fuck it senseless, narrow waist contrasting her wide hips so aesthetically. The cherry on top is the expressions on her gorgeous face which you can’t quite read. Just like when all colors mixed makes pitch-black, her facial wrinkles and twitches are the perfect mixture of all pleasure, ecstasy that you can’t tell what she’s feeling at this moment.

“Nngh!” Actually, you can. Jimin is orgasming so hard, clear—dirty—liquid pumping out of her empty pussy to flood the mattress. Her ass squeezes your cock too hard for you to move in and out as fast as before without blasting every drop in her climaxing ass hole.

So you park it deep in her contracting hole, stay there, and shut Jimin’s moaning mouth with yours. She doesn’t care—or she doesn't acknowledge—and keeps screaming for her life even after her peak has washed over. A few dozen seconds pass, she calms down to at least breathe regularly when you stand your torso up to resume the session.

“You… You have to cum…” As if she even cares for you instead of her own pleasure. You know she just wants more overwhelming orgasm only you can deliver, and you are no different. There’s something about this body, these tits, the voice, this face, this pussy, this ass; there really is something about Yoo Jimin. Without your knowledge you are humping her like a villain, mad, but with a grin that’s so dangerous that Jimin mirrors. Your hand already made itself home around her neck, a red mark of it pressing hard inevitable, tears rolling down along her side face.

“I’m going to fill you up, Jimin.” And with a sharp inhale you begin wrecking her inside. A gut-rearranging pounding is what her perfect ass deserves and she can’t even open her eyes properly-either one stays closed against her will, rolling up to see that there’s nothing inside her head.

“Fuck! Please, please, please, please… Gah, I’m- Again…!” How impatient. There’s not even a point for you to call a flaw. Immoral, impatient, vulgar, dirty… She’s all too perfect. And you’re sure that’s why you cum so hard, like never before.

A nasty pair of voices fill each other’s brain as you two cum. You lower your body, forehead on hers and eyes on hers, looking through those teary orbs as you feel yourself bursting out gregariously. No words but loud pants bridge your sensations to each other, and until the last spurt you don’t even blink in order to see Jimin go through her own orgasm.

That’s it; it’s been your undesirable sadistic desire that kept you on fire, and when you have saturated it it flips out of your head, making it empty—there hasn’t been anything other than that. When you’re done completely you let Jimin go from your glare, sit on the edge next to her gasping body. Your urge is swept off so cleanly, and you can see how dirty it was by the mess on your bed.

“Are you alright?” You ask, but looking up at the ceiling, not Jimin. You don’t turn your head but can already sense her looking at you. “You’re just so perfect.” Selfishly she doesn’t answer. And you hear the smirk in her words. You make one on your face too, hearing that, stand up, face her and find Jimin overloading your vision with how she gorgeously lies down there, making even all the nasty things complement her perfection.

“I’ll shower. Just don’t fall asleep on the bed. It’s dirty.” You tell Jimin, all helpless and powerless on the bed and panting like she just had the best sex in her life. The lustful girl who was begging for you to kill her is nowhere to be found; instead there’s a weak, short of breath, vulnerable and lithe angelic devil with your cum gushing out of her ass. As if a few more touches and she’d actually evaporate.

In the shower you barely feel the water on your body, so distracted by your own thoughts—your own thoughts but in the grabs of Yu Jimin. The exact same as yesterday, you are showering yourself with your shocked, strange feelings in the shower after sex that simply blew your mind.

It's just that she's too good. Too good to call it a hook-up, too good to make it only an occasional sex. The way she craves your cock, the way she begs for your violence, the way she’s so desperate for extreme orgasms under your hold. It’s the first time for you to smile just by thinking of a girl, especially when you’re such a harsh and rough type of a person even you’d admit. She’d let you hit her. She’d let you choke her, let you fuck her, destroy her—let you love her.

Then the door opens, a small, pale figure of female comes in, walks slowly through the mist of the hot water. Jimin stops in front of you, legs barely holding there, face buried on your chest and her arms locked around your neck to support her lithe body but they barely do. You move a little backward to let her more of the hot water.

As if all the water got into your veins, you feel your heart burn. Just look at her—legs all wobbly, barely standing, too exhausted to even look up at you, her hands at the back of your neck irregularly stroking the back of your head as if signaling she’s at least perceiving things properly. You put a hand on her back and spread the water on it, and that’s when she lifts her head and meets your eyes. 

Weak and lethargic like a candlelight in front of a tsunami, Jimin is barely standing there with low moans whenever her legs wobble and give up. Her arms tighten around your neck as one of yours hug her back so that she doesn’t collapse. Her face is right beneath yours, tilted up to face yours. Those eyes can’t avoid looking at your lips, which is just what you’re doing to her unashamedly.

Your hand climbs up to the back of her head. Regardless of that you and Jimin are exchanging such a strong yet soft, intense yet loving eyelock. It is an atypically genial moment and if you look back at this moment you might throttle yourself. She should know it by now, from the visible, audible changes on you. 

(Maybe you were afraid. Or beyond that. Love was what your fears were afraid of. Doesn’t quite make sense to say that you have fears, but anyways, you didn’t want, nor expect a couple nights to escalate to an actual romance.)

Minutes pass, and pass, and—and pause, when you pull her a bit into your arms and make a soundless, yet seismic kiss. Lips lock. Two pairs of lips open and a pair of tongues make contact, hug each other just like you two. Her hands snake into your hair, your head in her hands and deeper into the kiss. You two have even forgotten to breathe as the liplock continues for what feels like a lifetime, to complete the kiss of your life. When you try to pull back Jimin lunges a bit forward not to break the kiss, and you let your system suffocate a few dozen seconds more. 

“You’re so beautiful, Yu Jimin.” You finally tell her this. Not the literal confession of love but she gets it with the bewitching smile she always wears like nothing. Never been in love, you feel like you’re sent back to childhood, pure and intact, but that feeling is shattered into pieces when her hand finds your hardened cock poking at her belly.“Is that why you’re so hard, baby?” This time, the word ‘baby’ sounds so right with a lip bite of your lover and with a lust-filled grin on you. Her thumb slides on the underside of the tip, almost making you stumble back.

“Yes. Just like you’re always horny because of me.”  With a smirk you turn her around, bend her over so that her hands are on the wall, and put your cock in in one stroke. Jimin helplessly loses all the strength in her legs and falls but you're prudential enough not to let her. It's to the point where she's just hanging from your arms when you kindle the movement. Her skin looks even more satin with the water so you collar her and go on. You can't stop when the biggest impetus is jonesing for it. No choice but to harden the grip on her throat.

Jimin is flaccid on the wall, fingers fumbling on and desperately digging themselves on it with her head facing down. You are never going to unbind her until she falls into a stupor. “Baby I… I fucking love it so deep…! Use me just like that…” She can't let it out loud and soon loses all voice, raises her head, brings yours right beside hers and kisses you. And a feeling that this is the requital for your disclosure makes it compulsory to reciprocate it poignantly. Her hand guides one of yours to her tits, pushes it hard on it to make you squeeze them and soon the convulsions agitate through her body. Her orgasmic screams reverberate through your throat, which is also moaning out of the pleasure congesting your mind. 

When the kiss breaks her yelps stifle the smacking and squelching. You have no idea if it’s your heartiness or just overstimulation from before the shower, but her voice sounds so giddy she might just hit the floor all limp. The burgeoning pleasure conglomerates into a derogated vertigo, the unbearable sensations stack up in your spines and Jimin’s wringing walls really doesn’t help you push it down. Her eyes tell you—because her mouth can’t right now—she’s only a couple thrusts away from coming undone, tantamount to what’s threatening to blow your mind, break down your nerves.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m fucking coming…!” A tautology that is so understandable. You help her, add to the pleasure by choking her. Her moans permeate to your hand through her throat and the foul secretion of her orgasm flows down her legs with the water pelting down on your bodies. Jimin fumbles on the wall with her fingers, too herring-gutted to digest the deray.

“Jimin. Yu Jimin. I’m coming too-fuck…!” When Jimin hears her name she hums, and when she feels the warmth coat her walls she buckles, arches her back to beckon your lips and jockeys her tongue between them. In less than a minute however she pulls back, due to lack of air, because of your chokehold, and pants in your face, with a pejorative smile, but no sign of mannerism—you all know, that smile that follows after an exquisite sex—her sheer feelings carved in it, and you willingly mirror it as a beck of mutuality.

******

A rather huge thing is settled. Sitting on the edge of the bed together, with a cigarette between your fingers for each, you recount your history: the reason you moved, your personality, your sex life being like this. All of them, however, converge to her, Yu Jimin, weirdly enough for you who just can’t concede any feelings involved, which sounds like a monolithic psychopath which actually might be who you are.

Well, a little bit of romance couldn’t kill, could it? You think, lying next to Jimin and slowly closing your eyes to fall-

“You haven’t said it yet.”

“Say what?”

“You only said I’m beautiful.”

“And?”

“I know there’s something more. You know there’s something more.”

There you fail to hold out the chuckle.

“I don’t know what you’re-“

“It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to be shy about it,”

Jimin mischievously giggles. You know you can’t just laugh it off, and you won’t. That intricate feeling that tickles, but is not transient.

With a somnolent voice, you placidly say, like a tagline of a tragedy—or a comedy.

“Love you, Jimin.”

Her grin infiltrates her words hearing it.

“That’s it, my boy. Love you too.”

******

[shotoyami]

Non-conformity

word count: 1.1k

pairing: Scott Sumers + male reader

warnings: none for this one! (unless gay panic is something that needs to be warned?)

genre: fluff

notes: Scott Summers is a bisexual man, that is my own personal headcannon. you cannot tell me that there wasn’t any tension at all between him, Jean, and Logan. I love my silly gay man, he’s just a little cutie patootie. please enjoy this first post of mine here, and I’m starting on my ask/requests as soon as this is posted! <3

additional note, I’ve already edited this post, so please let me know if I missed anything at all!

Scott has always been comfortable with his sexuality. There’s nothing to question, you know? He’s got it all, a pretty girlfriend (who’s becoming questionably close with Logan as of late, but there’s no need to be all possessive. He trusts her), good friends who support him in everything he does, a mentor who cares sincerely about him.

But then, what doesn’t he have? Well, a biological family, for starters. That was gone a long time ago, but it’s nothing to dwell on.

As of late, though, there’s just something different. Something just isn’t right. And he can’t even begin to place a finger on the exact cause of the sudden uneasiness.

Sure, it could just be Jean and her closeness with Logan (damnit Scott, you sound like an obsessive clingy boyfriend–) that’s causing this new feeling, but something tells him it just isn’t that.

No, this is completely different, and it’s so strange that it only seems to happen when–

“Good morning, Scott.” A voice cuts through his thoughts, causing Scott to glance up. There it is again, that funny feeling. He clears his throat, offering a small, sort of awkward smile toward the man in front of him. “Hey- uh…good morning, (y/n). How are you?” He cringes to himself– gosh, he sounded like such a dweeb.

The man dorkily grins back, chuckling at the brunette’s awkwardness, “I’m alright.” He glances back toward someone behind Scott, his grin faltering. Of course, this only makes said brunette more curious, and turns to glance over his shoulder. It’s like a sinking feeling, but is it as bad of a feeling as it should be? Jean is…kissing Logan. In front of everyone. He should be furious, shouting and cursing. But something tells him to be relieved. That he’s free.

“-Scott. Hey, you alright?” He snaps out of his thoughts, looking back at the man he’d been conversing with periously. “Yeah…yeah, I’m alright. I kind of figured that was coming sooner than later.” Scott winces internally, knowing he sounded too nonchalant. What the hell is wrong with him? Why is he so happy that Jean had publicly cheated on him and technically ended their relationship all at once? He notices (y/n)’s frown, one all too familiar– it’s one of pity. “Are you sure?” All he can do is nod. What else is there he could possibly say? Normally he’d be devastated, probably sobbing in his room to himself, but this isn’t normal. This isn’t a normal case. Not when all Scott can think about is the man in front of him and how much he wants to see him without that stupid oversized sweater–

Oh. Oh.

The realization slowly dawns upon him, the feeling starting to make more sense. Is he..? No, he can’t be gay. Scott’s only ever dated women. Women love Scott, and Scott loves women. But (y/n)’s a man.

It’s making his head spin– this made no sense, he’s never had any interest in men to this point, what’s different? What changed? Does (y/n) even like men? All of the women love him, so it’s not too far fetched to assume him straight, but in this day and age, isn’t that also offensive?

“Summers.” (y/n)’s voice cuts through his thought’s yet again, the man frowning still, now with his hands on Scott’s shoulders. “Are you hearing me right now? Maybe I should just walk you back to your dorm, I get it, this is a lot.” He gestures back toward the hallway that stretches between the vast amount of dorms within Xavier’s school and Scott finds himself eager to follow.

As they walk, the pair are thrown into a comfortable silence– er, well, comfortable on the outside. It’s awkward internally for Scott, trying to find something to say. How to voice his thoughts without being creepy. “Hey, (y/n)?” The named man hums in response, solidifying the obvious fact that he’s listening, and Scott continues, “Have you ever thought about…I don’t know, sexuality?” Scott cringes at how awkward he sounds, yet again, but he’s surprised to get a thoughtful hum in return. “Yeah, sexuality is weird. People are just so open, and it’s easier to make yourself open to ideas and thoughts, but at the same time, you don’t want to be too vulnerable and end up hurt. It’s a big tug of war that’s always staked against your favor.”

That’s…a rather interesting way to put it. “What about you in particular, (y/n)?” Scott can’t help but want to know more– no, he needs to know more. “Well, the easiest way to put it would be to just call myself queer and move on with it,” he jokes, grinning playfully before sighing as his voice comes down a pitch. “But, in particular, I’d probably label myself bisexual. You know, men and women and such.” He shrugs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats. “Labels suck though. It shouldn’t have to have a name or make you different, everyone just wants to love and be loved equally.”

Scott finds himself melting at the thought, to live in a world where anyone could be anything and do anything– within reason, of course– but even he knows well that it’d never happen. Take all of them being outcast a mutants, for example. “What if I’ve been gay this entire time and never even gave it a thought..?” He mumbles, questioning himself and everything he’s known thus far. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with that,” (y/n)’s response is reassuring, comforting. Scott can’t help it, he grabs (y/n)’s wrist– loosely, of course, in case it made the man uncomfortable. “...(y/n), I…I think you’re my gay awakening.” The man pauses, looking quite bewildered for a moment– to be expected though, this is all very sudden. However, he relaxes a bit afterward, a soft smile haunting his expression. “That’s not what I was expecting to hear from you at all today, Summers. Is this because of Jean, or is this legit? After all, your emotions are going to be pretty heightened after-”

Scott squeezes his hand, silently begging for (y/n) to stop reminding him, for now at least. “No, I’m serious. I guess everything with Jean just really solidified it for me. It’s not like I didn’t enjoy being with her- well, at least until that last part. But something about that never felt right, you know?”

“Is this your corny little gay confession?” (y/n) teases, though he’s being genuine, nont quite making fun of the brunette. Scott’s expression finally relaxes for the first time that day, no longer pensive or distant. 

“...yeah, I think it is.”

[covesdadappreciation]

Hey hey! I loved your Prom one, and now I'm hungry for more! (Sorry not sorry =P). An idea that's been knocking around in my head is, its implied Tam-Tam gets bullied in the later Steps. SO, I would like to see MC getting into a fight after someone makes Tamarack cry, and the Qiu joins in to help because, love rival or no love rival, they ain't lettin' that shit slide.

School Fight

Tamarack x Male Reader (FTM Safe!) Author's note: I’m starting to think you really like the "jealous Qiu, and in love with Tamarack" dynamic… just a feeling. 🎀 CW: A physical fight and mentions of bullying. - I will also warn you that I may have not re-edited this. 1972 words

Ever since MC had met Tamarack, he’s doted on her. If she was a princess, he was her knight, through and through. He was at Tamarack’s defense when Oma and her argued, he was at her side when she felt isolated, he was always paying attention to her face to see if she approved or disapproved certain plans. She is his everything, and even in high school it hasn’t changed much. It certainly isn’t as obvious anymore, nor is he following her around like a lost puppy as much either. With getting older and no longer feeling out-of-place after being the new neighbor, he’s become more independent. Confident, some might say. 

MC began to climb the high school popularity ranks the older he got, along with Qiu (but Qiu wasn’t all that excited about being popular at this point). Though that never let MC feel bigger than Tamarack. Instead he always made sure to make it obvious that they were friends, that he’ll make time for her any day, that she’s just as important as any one of his friends. In a room full of people, he’ll always choose her. 

So when MC decided that he wanted to walk with Tamarack after her after school orchestra practice for the first time, he had a gut-squeezing feeling when he saw her with a small frown and tiny tears at the edges of her eyes. He quickly rushed up to her, but she squeezed her eyes when she noticed MC and smiled, the tears becoming much less notable now.

“Are you okay?” He asked, studying her face worriedly, holding himself from running his hands over the tear trails on her face. She nodded persistently, “Yeah, Orchestra was just stressful today. Rehearsal stuff, it happens.” She waved her hand dismissively. 

MC sighed understandingly, “Well if it’d help, we can go to the Diner and get milkshakes?” Tamarack perked up at the offer, and while her sadness didn’t seem to fully pass, it still made her smile.

As the week continues, MC notices that Tamarack’s been more stressed at the mention of orchestra. She’s anxious in the hallways, as if looking for someone, or trying to be aware of what people are talking about. Of course Tamarack was a little more anxious and awkward, they’re in highschool! It’s kind of a package deal. But it was way out of character for her, this was fear, and that little voice in MC’s head knew that something was wrong. All he needed to know was what the cause was. 

—

MC walked into the auditorium, sitting in the front row as he kept his eyes on Tamarack the whole time as she settled into her seat and pulled out her instrument. Though, nobody really seemed to notice him with the bright lights on them, and if they did, he wasn’t their main focus. They were working on playing music for one of the school musicals, but not even halfway into practice, MC already noticed plenty of red flags.

Two freshmen who sat behind Tammy were being dickheads. Notably one was blonde and the other was brunette. It started out small, but even then it took everything in MC to not get up and tell them to cut it out. Maybe accidentally spill some water on them. Who knows. The two boys went back and forth throughout their instrumental pauses or 10 minute breaks, throwing side-eyes at Tammy while whispering some surely cruel comments about her considering that in response to every whisper, Tamarack seemed to curl more and more into herself. 

MC had kept his eye on them, wishing that Tamarack could notice him and give him a signal on what to do. Scenarios and plans ran through his head, many of them revolving around the idea of revenge. On the other hand, he can hear his ma’s and Tamarack’s voice to calm down, to not get in trouble. The rest of the half hour passes and Tamarack makes her way over to MC, inhaling deeply before crashing her body onto him, pressing her weight against him so that he could hold her closely. 

“Tammy…?”

“Yeah?”

“Is there a reason you haven’t told me about those two dickheads?” MC crossed his arms. Of course he wasn’t angry at her, but the fact that those two had the nerve to be mean to the nicest and adorable girl in the whole world. The audacity. 

Tamarack huffs no longer leaning on him, “No! They’re just dumb, and it’s…” she falters, rolling her eyes and no longer making eye contact with MC, “It’s nothing to worry about.” MC glances around and finds the two boys headed out, but not leaving without throwing a judgemental look towards Tamarack. It only made MC’s stomach turn and twist. 

Just say the word, Tam. Put me in the ring, coach.

“If they keep this up, I swear I’ll start a fight”

“Please don’t” Tamarack laughs softly, but they both knew that MC wasn’t strictly joking. MC only makes a small unsatisfied sound, his eyes stuck and glaring at the two boys until they were out of sight. “Earth to MC?” Tamarack waves her hand in front of his face, “Are we still gonna walk to my place?”

MC sighs before taking Tamarack’s cello case, puffing his chest for a quick second before the weight shifted comfortably in his arms,

“MC, you know you don’t have to carry it for me every time-”

“You’ll have to pry this from my cold dead hands if you expect me to let you carry this yourself”

“My hero” Tamarack sighs with a smug look, readjusting MC’s hair so that his hair is back to normal before their walk. 

“My princess” MC grins back.

— 

The week had felt long, as if the school building itself was actively stopping the clock and hoping no one would question it. MC and Tamarack were walking down the halls in their transition period, arm in arm. Chatting away about their next class and hooked together to not lose each other to the crowd was always their excuse.

“Imagine if the crowds sucked her away and I’d never find her again!” MC huffed to Qiu long ago. 

So MC made it clear that he would never let that happen. Nor was he going to let the world see the dust of blush on his cheeks wherever they did cross arms.  

Unfortunately, the two boys from the orchestra had caught onto Tamarack’s presence on their walk down the halls. MC could see the cogs turning in their heads, which was surprising considering that MC thought there was nothing in there anyways. Defeating all logic regardless, there was a non-verbal plan being set in their minds, which made MC tense. 

He felt worse when he stole a quick look over at Tamarack, seeing her understandably more anxious than him, tears welling up in her eyes once more. This time she finally let them fall. 

The two boys pointed and whispered, judging something– and when MC looked at what they were pointing at, it was a part of a bit of high school embarrassment. Tamarack’s backpack was almost wide-open, not enough for everything to fall out. Of course, they were close enough so that you could hear the glimpses of terrible things they decided to say about her. About her intelligence and comments about her appearance. People are starting to look. 

“Guys, can you both just fucking rela-” MC was interrupted by the brunette who passed him, shoulder hitting shoulder, which caught MC off guard. 

Tamarack was quiet now, and a panicked and helpless look was all she could give as the brunette had gone up to her, let her walk away just a bit so that he could reach into her bag, pulling out whatever he could grab. It was her lunch bag. In a quick attempt of playing monkey in the middle, the brunette with the lunch bag tosses it over to the blonde boy, who’s conveniently closer to MC.

As the two boys laugh, the blonde holding the lunch bag makes eye contact with MC, almost as if expecting him to laugh too at this obnoxious act. 

There’s a moment where MC just nods, the situation finally clicking and snapping in his head. 

Almost as if it’s instinct, MC forces his body to slam the kid against the locker which takes everyone off guard. Those who knew MC from elementary especially. He wasn’t lost or trying to fit in anymore like he did back then. He wasn’t hiding behind Tamarack and hoping that everyone stays friends. It almost made MC seem bigger now. 

The blonde was almost too shocked by the reaction, but he recovered and decided that he’d fight back. They both shoved each other around, throwing a punch in there occasionally, the growing crowd of kids gave a lot of space. Phones were out, and people were cheering and commenting. In one moment MC was pinned and being pushed around by his clothes, in another moment MC had the blonde onto the floor, shoving him harshly back down on the ground.

Veronica had pulled Tamarack away while Qiu and Ren struggled against the mob of children to see what was happening. All they had heard was that MC was in a fight. All Qiu fully registered was a blonde boy on the ground, MC trying to pin the boy’s hands away, and a brunette boy about to enter to help his friend, most likely to make the situation worse or make this a 2v1 situation. Qiu quickly ran up to the brunette and redirected him, only shoving him back warningly. 

That’s all Qiu needed to see, and they knew that it probably had something to do with Tamarack. Who else would MC fight like this for?

“Are you gonna keep going?!��� MC shouts at the boy, trying to be heard over the multiple kids shouting. The blonde boy kept up with the struggle before finally giving in and knowing that MC wasn’t going to let go of his wrists until they both stopped hurting one another. 

The blonde boy nods persistently, allowing MC to finally get off of him (not without "accidentally nudging this guy on the side a bit" with his foot) and take a couple steps back in case the boy was planning on starting another fight.

Not that there was time for it considering teachers finally reached the situation. The crowd quickly dispersed, leaving only Tamarack, Qiu, MC, and the two boys in that hall with the teachers.. 

—

Fortunately, Tamarack and Qiu didn’t get in much trouble besides whatever their parents and grandparents found to be appropriate. MC on the other hand had a 4 day suspension, and the other two boys had gotten slightly longer and worse punishments than them. MC’s mom wasn’t the happiest at the whole situation, but she also figured deep down something like this would’ve happened. Tamarack’s Opa found the whole thing a lot more amusing than Omi, of course, but they were still somewhat glad the bullying issue was done with too. 

And it wasn’t like Tamarack and MC were banned from seeing each other ever again. Tamarack and Qiu would visit MC after school to bring him homework, and study together. 

At the end of the day, no one bothered to bully or make comments about Tamarack anymore, lest they deal with MC when he comes back. At least MC promised he’d never do it again. Probably.

[luvsunarin]

[ megumi fushiguro x fem!reader ] ෴ IN WHICH⠀your roommate tries to convince you to join her band.

warnings・CORNY CORNY CORNY. i wrote this at 3 in the morning and did not proof read or edit this so my apologies if it makes no sense LOL

wc・1.1k || short read lolz. p2 mayb!?

APART OF⠀⠀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. BAND AUS [ the collection ]

you laid on your arm chair in the living room with your head resting on the arm rest, while your legs dangled over the armrest on the opposite side of the small couch meanwhile your roommate sat on the floor in front of you while some of her band mates sat on the couch and some on the floor.

"c'mon y/n! we need a drummer, and you're the perfect option!" nobara pleaded you.

"look nobara, i'm truly flattered but i don't know." you sighed and shrugged.

"why not? didn't you tell me you used to be in a band in high school with megumi at one point?" she glanced between the two of you.

your eyes widened for a subtle second, "no? i never told you that." you told her and squinted at megumi.

"well then megumi did! he said that you were the drummer and that you played like no one else." she repeated his words dramatically which made megumi roll his eyes.

"didn't i tell you to not bring that up?" he scoffed.

"desperate times call for desperate measures." itadori reasoned with a shrug.

"well he's being dramatic. i really was an average drummer. our lead singer would always get mad at me 'cause i'd constantly fuck up during practices."

"yet you played flawlessly at shows." megumi added, staring at you intensely.

"what?" you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

"you rarely played good at practice but whenever it came to shows, you played perfectly." he said. "oh but ya know, it has been a while so i understand if you got even worse." a smirk formed on his features.

you raise an eyebrow at him and send him a brief glare, which he returned.

itadori cleared his throat and stared between the two of you who were staring very intensely at each other then glanced at nobara. "maybe this isn't such a good idea–"

"no, you know what? i'll do it." you scoffed.

they all went wide-eyed, "what?!"

"i'll be your drummer," you specified. "then i'll prove to fushiguro that i've only gotten better at drumming."

itadori and nobara's bright features dropped when you said that, "seriously? just for competition?"

"nah. she's just saying that 'cause she misses playing the drums. and she misses being in a band with me." megumi teased.

you scoffed, "in your dreams."

"yeah, i dreamt about it every night so much to the point it became reality."

your features relaxed and you adjusted your legs on the arm chair, "whatever."

"i'll let our manager know then!" nobara cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence that grew upon them and she pulled out her phone. "gojo'll be thrilled."

"seriously? megumi's dad is the manager of this band too?" you stiffled your laughter.

"he's not my dad–"

"yet he's changed your diapers more than toji ever did." you cut him off and shrugged.

he scoffed, "whatever."

nobara clicked on gojo's contact and pressed call. "gojo, you won't believe it!"

you heard gojo's muffled voice through the phone, "what? wait, let me guess– you got y/n to be your drummer?"

"yup! she said she's only doing it to prove to fushiguro that she's still an amazing drummer but i know that's bullshit." nobara whispered followed by a chuckle.

"i heard that kugisaki." you called out.

itadori rushed over to the phone as well, "yup, they probably miss each other a lot." he whispered.

"you guys are right in front of us." megumi pointed out.

the other three rolled their eyes. three because you just know that gojo rolled his eyes as well. "fine then we'll go somewhere you can't hear us!" they made their way to the kitchen and continued to gossip there with gojo.

which left you and megumi.

the silence wasn't awkward. the air felt stuffy but not awkward. however you broke the silence by asking megumi a question, "do you seriously think i'm the best drummer or were you over-exaggerating 'cause you missed being in a band with me?" you teased as a smirk tugged on your lips.

megumi clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, "are you seriously joining the band because you wanna prove to me you're still the best drummer or 'cause you missed being in a band with me?" he mocked you.

you thought for a moment, "neither. i miss playing the drums." you told him confidently.

"i'm heart broken, really." he said dramatically. "you didn't miss me?"

"sure i did," you chuckled at him. "i missed throwing my drum sticks at your head before a show."

"i'd always keep it in my pocket during the show for goodluck."

"aw, was i your good luck charm?" you mocked him and laughed.

"you could say that if it makes you happy." he rolled his eyes.

"nah, i'd rather think of it that you had my drum stick in your pocket so that you could always have a reminder that i'm putting you under pressure." you looked at him.

he laughed softly, "i'd prefer the good luck thing."

"i wouldn't. if i kept one of your guitar strings in my pocket, i'd pressure myself to play ten times better." you spoke, "but then again, you don't like being put under pressure. so i see why you prefer the good luck thing." you smirked at him.

he looked at you weirdly while a smile subconsciously snuck onto his features, "i'd put myself under pressure for you."

"gross," you looked at him with a playfully disgusted look. "that's corny."

"it was a joke asshole," he shook his head. "hey but didn't you notice that i played better with your drumstick in my pocket than when i didn't?"

"under pressure."

"whatever." he sighed. "i'm glad you joined the band." he told you, changing the topic.

you hummed, "oh yeah? so you did miss being in a band with me." you confirmed.

"whatever helps you sleep at night. you sleep deprived fuck."

you looked at him playfully offended, "sleep deprived fuck?" you repeated his words. "i can't believe you."

"sure y/n. remind me of how many hours of sleep you get?"

"too far buddy, too far," you joked followed by a laugh. "anyway, how have you been?"

"better now that you joined the band." he smirked.

"oh? so you really missed me?" you joked.

"yeah," he finally admitted. "i didn't just miss being in a band with you but i missed you." he added.

you stared at him, "oh yeah? i missed you too actually." you admitted as well.

"sure you did. wasn't i the reason you left our old band?"

"well now you're the reason i'm joining your new one." you chuckled, "you gotta quit doing that– letting the past interfere with the future."

he sighed in defeat, "so you did miss me, huh?"

"oh shut up." you gave in and smiled.

﹫heartshapedjewls' work! do not copy! || xtra words frm jules: im contemplating whether or not i should make a prt2 butttt idk... MORE BAND AUS TO COMEEE!! im so excited to write for star treatment 🫂. anyway have a good day yall, and stay hydrated!

[itsnevercasual]

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

part ii

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

warnings: none really.. not edited.

summary: in which y/n's friends book her an amazing gig, but they don't mention anything about her favorite singer being in attendance.

request: nope!

your friends were more than aware of your obsession with harry styles. it’s not like it was a secret.

so, it only made sense that when you started to sing in bars and cafes — anywhere, really — that you’d always incorporate something of his into it. whether it be a love on tour crewneck, a song of his, a one direction song, or a song about him — you loved to cover style, because.. who didn’t want to strut on a stage to a song everyone knows?

however, you weren’t aware of what they were planning when they somehow booked you in a very prestigious bar.

the dress-code for this bar was strict. your usual get-up of jeans and a crewneck — or jeans and anything, really — was vetoed before you could even ask. so, you searched through the depths and trenches of your closet until you found a black, skin-tight cocktail dress that ended right at your mid-thigh.

“seriously, babe. you know sign of the times inside and out. you’re just psyching yourself out,” one of your friends, melanie, told you.

“i know, but.. still.”

“you doubt yourself too much.”

“so you tell me everyday. now shoo! i’ve gotta be onstage in five.”

you weren’t exactly sure how you got onstage. you’re pretty sure you blacked out.

as you nervously scanned the crowd, you spoke into the mic, “hi.. my name is y/n. uh.. i’ll be singing some songs tonight. i figured since it’s christmas eve, i could sing through a few.. christmas classics or whatever. so.. yeah!”

a few people in the audience laughed at your awkwardness.

you sang through last christmas first, which really boosted your confidence. the audience was very interactive, singing, dancing, and clapping along.

you sang a few other christmas classics. santa baby, let it snow, things like that.

and then.. it was time for the section you very much dreaded. your songs.

“so.. these next few songs are songs that i wrote. they’re.. like.. my babies. so.. please be nice to them,” you laughed.

you nodded to the band. a silent signal that they could start the music.

“when you first told me about her, you said she was thirty. and i just can’t help but think.. you knew it was dirty. and maybe you were just a little sad, but there’s no excuse to lie to me like that. but when you first told me about her, you said she was thirty,” you took a deep breath before belting the chorus, “but she’s only twenty-eight. i’m not even half her age. she probably just had her first high school reunion. you’re probably the first guy she’s ever moved in with. you think that i wanna hate. but you set me up this way. so for my health i’ll be blocking your number, ‘cause you couldn’t wait till i got a bit older.”

the crowd cheered, giving you more confidence as you walked around the stage.

“and sometimes i kinda feel like i wanna forgive. but it never crossed your mind that maybe i’m still a kid. and i’m so used to being the adult. even when you say it’s not your fault. but i’m kinda getting sick and tired of crying. so please stop lying, and lying, and lying. she’s only twenty-eight. i’m not even half her age. she probably just had her first high school reunion. you’re probably the first guy she’s ever moved in with. you think that i wanna hate. but you set me up this way. so for my health i’ll be blocking your number, ‘cause you couldn’t wait till i got a bit older. to tell me she was twenty-eight.”

as the drums and electric guitar got more intense, the lights flashed different colors.

“to tell me she was twenty-eight… what the fuck is twenty-eight? you said she’s mature, so that makes it okay. and you said she likes sports, so that makes it okay. and she’s actually pretty, so that makes it okay. but there’s nothing you can say that makes twenty-eight okay.. to me.”

the crowd cheered as you lowered the mic. a smile overtook your face as you laughed.

you walked back over to the mic stand, putting the mic in the slot as a slow, piano-ballad type song started. the lights switched to a soft white.

“they’re always charismatic. and they’ll turn up the charm. their words do something magic, saying no is really hard. they’re over-generous, you’ll never pay the bills. they’ll fall in love in seconds. die for you, or probably kill. ooh. and after six months, you’ll feel really stupid. ooh. i promise that it’s not your fault you fell for it,” you shook your head, keeping your eyes closed as you sang, “‘cause.. one little fight breaks into war. feels like you’re dying on the bathroom floor. you’ll make an excuse. you’ll say that it’s you. and the mirror’s telling you it’s true. won’t leave, can’t stay. how much are you gonna take? ‘cause you’ll always take the blame. it feels like shit, but that’s just how it is. when you love a narcissist. so if you’re feeling crazy.. i wouldn’t be surprised. the only thing they’re good at’s knowing how to gaslight. then make you feel like the most beautiful in the world. while they’re sleeping with another girl. ooh. and after six months, you’ll feel really stupid. ooh. i promise that it’s not your fault you fell for it, ‘cause.. one little fight breaks into war. feels like you’re dying on the bathroom floor. you’ll make an excuse. you’ll say that it’s you. and the mirror’s telling you it’s true. won’t leave, can’t stay. how much are you gonna take? ‘cause you’ll always take the blame. it feels like shit, but that’s just how it is. ‘cause i felt like shit. so i know how it is. when you love a narcissist.”

the crowd cheered as it went straight into another song.

“when you’d yell, i would stay quiet. you never noticed i was quiet. i was taught that speaking up was talking back. always first to say, ‘i’m sorry’, ‘cause i wanted you to like me. and i thought that’s what it took to make it last. it’s a lose, lose. that i don’t choose. but you don’t always choose the ones you love. i shouldn’t have to be the bigger person. how come i have to break to keep us working? it’s always up to me, even though it shouldn’t be. i’ll take the blame the way you want me to. ‘cause that’s what i do for you. i was half of this dynamic. i was stable, you were manic. without you or with you comes with a cost. i got used to the excuses and emotional abuses. we kept moving the lines we never crossed. it’s a lose, lose that i don’t choose. but you don’t always choose the ones you love. shouldn’t have to be the bigger person. how come i have to break to keep us working? it’s always up to me, even though it shouldn’t be. i’ll take the blame the way you want me to. ‘cause that’s what i do for you. i always think it’s over, but it never really is. but i can’t get the closure when you’re like this. can we switch? maybe this time you’ll be the bigger person. ‘cause i’m getting tired of carrying all your burden. it should be up to you, but you won’t admit the truth, oh-oh. shouldn’t have to be the bigger person. how come i have to break to keep us working? it’s always up to me, even though it shouldn’t be. i’ll take the blame the way you want me to. ‘cause that’s what i do for you.”

the crowd cheered again.

“thank you! we have.. four more songs tonight. this next one is would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.”

a crew member came and slipped an electric guitar around your neck. you quietly thanked them as you cleared your throat and the music started.

“if you would’ve blinked, then i would’ve looked away at the first glance. if you tasted poison, you could’ve spit me out at the first chance. if i was some paint, did it splatter on a promising grown man? and if i was a child, did it matter? if you got to wash your hands? oh-oh, oh. all i used to do was pray. would’ve, could’ve, should’ve. if you’d never looked my way, i would’ve stayed on my knees. and i damn sure never would’ve danced with the devil at nineteen. and the god honest truth is that the pain was heaven. and now that i’m grown, i’m scared of ghosts. memories feel like weapons. and now that i know, i wish you’d left me wondering. if you never touched me, i would’ve gone along with the righteous. if i never blushed, then they could’ve never whispered about this. and if you never saved me from boredom, i could’ve gone on as i was. but, lord, you made me feel important… and then you tried to erase us. oh-oh, oh. you’re a crisis of my faith. would’ve, could’ve, should’ve. if i’d only played it safe, i would’ve stayed on my knees. and i damn sure never would’ve danced with the devil at nineteen. and the god honest truth is that the pain was heaven. and now that i’m grown, i’m scared of ghosts. memories feel like weapons. and now that i know, i wish you’d left me wondering. god rest my soul, i miss who i used to be. the tomb won’t close, stained glass windows in my mind. i regret you all the time. i can’t let this go, i fight with you in my sleep. the wound won’t close, i keep on waiting for a sign. i regret you all the time…. if clarity’s in death, then why won’t this die? years of tearing down our banners, you and i. living for the thrill of hitting you where it hurts. give me back my girlhood, it was mine first,” as you held the note, the crowd screamed.

“and i damn sure never would’ve danced with the devil. at nineteen. and the god honest truth is that the pain was heaven. and now that i’m grown, i’m scared of ghosts. memories feel like weapons. and now that i know, i wish you’d left me wondering. god rest my soul, i miss who i used to be. the tomb won’t close, stained glass windows in my mind. i regret you all the time. i can’t let this go, i fight with you in my sleep. the wound won’t close, i keep on waiting for a sign. i regret you all the time. oh, god rest my soul, i miss who i used to be. the tomb won’t close, stained glass windows in my mind. i regret you all the time. i can’t let this go, i fight with you in my sleep. the wound won’t close, i keep on waiting for a sign. i regret you all the time.”

with the final strum of your electric guitar, the crowd stood up to applaud. the crew member switched out the electric guitar for an acoustic one.

“this next one is called ceilings.”

a little bit more applause.

“.. ceilings. plaster. can’t you just make it move faster? lovely to be sitting here with you. you’re kinda cute, but it’s raining. harder. my shoes are now full of water. lovely to be rained on with you. it’s kinda cute but it’s.. so short. then you’re drivin’ me home. and i don’t wanna leave, but i have to go. you kiss me in your car. and it feels like the start of a movie i’ve seen before. before… bedsheets, no clothes. touch me like nobody else does. lovely to just lay here with you. you’re kinda cute and i would say all of this. but i don’t wanna ruin the moment. lovely to sit between comfort and chaos.. but it’s over. then you’re driving me home. and it kinda comes out as i get up to go. you kiss me in your car, and it feels like the start of a movie i’ve seen before.. but it’s not real. and you don’t exist. and i can’t recall the last time i was kissed. it hits me in the car. and it feels like the end of a movie i’ve seen before. before.”

you laughed as you saw melanie and your friends stand up in the back of the bar, dancing on stools.

“i can see my friends dancing.. so badly because they love the next song,” you laugh.

“once the flight had flown. with the wilt of the rose. i slept all alone. you still wouldn’t go. let’s fast forward to three hundred takeout coffees later. i see your profile and your smile on unsuspecting waiters. you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor. you search in every maiden’s bed for something greater, baby. was it over when she laid down on your couch? was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse? ‘come here,’ i whispered in your ear in your dream as you passed out, baby. was it over then? and is it over now? when you lost control. red blood, white snow. blue dress on a boat. your new girl is my clone,” you smiled, knowing was part comes next. “and did you think i didn’t see you, there were flashing lights. at least i had the decency to keep my nights out sight. only rumors ‘bout my hips and thighs, and my whispered sighs. oh, lord. i think about jumping. off of very tall somethings. just to see you coming runnin’, runnin’. and say the one thing i’ve been wanting, but no. let’s. fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later. if she's got blue eyes, i will surmise that you'll probably date her. you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor. you search in every model's bed for something greater, baby, was it over when she laid down on your couch? was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse? ‘come here,’ I whispered in your ear in your dream as you passed out, baby. was it over then? and is it over now? oh. oh. think i didn’t see you? there were flashing lights. at least i had the decency to keep my nights out sight. only rumors ‘bout my hips and thighs, and my whispered sighs. oh, lord. i think about jumping. off of very tall somethings. just to see you coming runnin’, runnin’. and say the one thing i’ve been wanting, but no. let’s fast forward to three hundred takeout coffees later. oh. i was hoping you’d be there. and say the one thing i’be been wanting… but no.”

another round of applause as you passed off the guitar.

“so.. this song is not my song. i am.. very nervous for this, but.. this is sign of the times.”

you closed your eyes tightly as the music started, “just stop your crying, it’s a sign of the times. welcome to the final show. hope you're wearing your best clothes. you can't bribe the door on your way to the sky. you look pretty good down here. but you ain't really good.. we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? … just stop your crying it’s a sign of the times. we gotta get away from here. we gotta get away from here. just stop your crying, it’ll be alright. they told me that the end is near. we gotta get away from here. just stop your crying, have the time of your life. breaking through the atmosphere, and things are pretty good from here. remember everything will be alright. we can meet again somewhere. somewhere far away from here.. we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? just stop your crying. it’s a sign of the times. we gotta get away from here. we gotta get away from here. stop your crying, baby, it'll be alright. they told me that the end is near we gotta get away from here. we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets?” you finally opened your eyes, trying to find melanie, but instead, you find the last person you expected to be here.

the man whose song you’re literally singing.

harry was slightly weary when an over-excited girl with light pink hair came up to him and asked him — begged him, really — to come to her best friends show. he wasn’t sure what convinced him. or what possessed him to bring his mother and gemma along with him.

but he had to say, he didn’t.. regret it.

you were pretty — extremely pretty. and you were a crazy good singer. he was pretty sure you were singing his song better than him.

you swallowed your nerves as you sang the chorus and bridge, keeping eye contact even though you felt like shitting your pants. “we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? we don't talk enough. we should open up. before it's all too much. will we ever learn? we've been here before. it's just what we know. stop your crying, baby. it's a sign of the times. we gotta get away. we got to get away..” you finally looked away, closing your eyes. “we got to get away. we got to get away. we got to get away. we got to, we got to, away. we got to, we got to, away. we got to, we got to, away.”

you let out a shaking exhale as the song ended, backing up from the mic. you bowed and blew kisses to the audience before practically sprinting offstage.

to: mel x

WHAT THE FUCK MELANIE WHY THE FUCK DID INJUST MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HARRY STYLES WHILE SINGING SIGN OF THE TIMES IM GONNA KILL

MY

SELF.

from: mel xx

NOOO I INVITED HIM ITS FINE

to: mel xx

you

what.

from: mel xx

I SAW HIM A WEEK AFTER WE BOOKED YOU THE GIG AND MIGHT HAVE BEGGED HIM TO COME BECAUSE I KNOW YOU WANT TO MEET HIM AND WHAT BETTER WAY THAN THIS

to: mel xx

oh i dunno

ANY OTHER WAY?

from: mel xx

BABE IT IS FINE

HE BROUGHT HIS MUM AND GEMMA TOO

to: mel xx

WHAG

from: mel xx

HE SAID HE LOVED IT AND U WERE OHENOMENAL

NOW GET OUT HERE AND MEET HIM

after taking ten minutes to breath, you walked over to the bar, finding melanie pretty easily.

“i love you so much for playing is it over now!”

“i played it just for you and your psycho obsession with it,” you laughed as she yanked you into a hug.

you two pulled away, and you turned around when you felt a presence behind you.

your eyes widened when you were face to face with harry fucking styles.

“hey.. y/n, right?”

you blinked a few times… that couldn’t be real. this was most definitely a prank.

“.. are you alright?”

“yes! sorry, i’m.. yeah, i’m good. hi, yeah. i’m.. y/n.”

he smiled at you, “i’m harry. but.. you seem to already know that, since y’sang my song and all.”

“i.. yeah, i do know who you are,” you laugh awkwardly.

“well, i’m glad to know who you are as well.”

you had to bit your lip to keep from smiling like a psycho.

“oh, and uh.. happy christmas,” he smiled.

you furrowed your brows, grabbing your phone.

12:01, 25 december 2018

happy christmas, indeed.

a/n: edging 😛 LMAO this might get another part, it lowk just depends on how well it does!!

[strawberryfairi]

Shuji Hanma | Headcanons

★ When he flirts with you; Black Girl Edition❣️ ★ Fluff; Shuji being ridiculously chaotic and you pretending not to love it

💎 DO NOT let this man's looks fool you. Shuji is a cornball ass bozo! I said what I had said💁🏾‍♀️

~He comes across so intimidatingly gorgeous, especially since he's so damn tall, but he flirts with you like he's still in high school because he thinks it's funny. Just the most unserious man to walk the earth.

~ For example: "You got any bandaids? 'Cause I scraped my knees when I fell for you, baby." He murmurs next to your ear with a wide, prideful grin. You give him your best side eye for a moment, then walk away shaking your head, attempting to force your smile down so he wouldn't get boosted off your reaction.

"You need to go on somewhere with your goofy ass. That was even worse than yesterday." You reply over your shoulder, the amusement all in your voice as you kept walking.

~He would never admit this out loud, but he loves the way you always roll your eyes and walk away trying to hide your smile from him when he makes a move on you. He follows after you every single time.

~Honestly he can be like that annoying sibling that won't stop bothering you when he wants to. Turning your bedroom light on then leaving with your door wide open type time...that's Shuji.

~He will absolutely insert himself into your daily life, and do it without warning. He just...arrives. ~Does not care about your feelings on the matter either^^, if he wants to be around you he will.

~You act like you'd never give him the time of day and he absolutely, positively loves it.

~You have to give it to 'em, he's definitely persistent.

~He's never satisfied with his encounters with you until you're completely bothered and/or utterly embarrassed by him.

~Example #2: "Get back! Why're you always doin' the most?!" You rant, covering your face with hands to hide the embarrassment as you walk. This man Shuji had started yelling out Michael Jackson lyrics in the middle of the sidewlak all out in public like he don't got no damn sense. Acting like he's in a music video behind you, people start to stare and mumble discreetly to each other as they passed by you two, only making the embarrassment ten thousand times worse.

"JUST KISS ME BABY AND TELL ME TWICE, THAT YOU'RE THE ONE FOR ME! THE WAY YOU-

"SHUJI! I'm bouta call the police on your stupid ass! Stop! 'Cause you can't even sing!" You holler over him, trying to come across as angry and annoyed as possible as you continue speed walking down the sidewalk.

~He definitely noticed the wide smile on your face....

~No no, getting serious for a second though, he'll definitely come through whenever you need his help. Especially if it involves beating some idiot guy's ass that couldn't take a hint. ~I mean, he's goofy and wild, but he's always reliable.

~Speaking of fighting, he loves to show off his skills when he can. He knows he's a great fighter and so do you.

~He loves the height and overall size difference between you too, and will definitely flex that regularly.

~He's not one to get sappy or particularly emotional, but whenever you're upset or crying about something he'll cheer you up in his own (ghetto) way.

~Example #3: You sniffled a few times, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand as you finished ranting about your coworkers at your stressful job.

"Yeah, that's a lot. So...wanna ride?" He asks, his tone plain yet a mischievous smirk made it's way onto his lips. Your face instantly scrunches up in annoyance.

"Shuji! Why can't you just like listen and-

"On my bike, on my bike!" He chuckles, waving his hands in surrender as you smack his shoulder.

"Then say that, not 'wanna ride'." You scold, giving him another one of your classic side eyes. He knew damn well that came across sexual.

The two of you spend the rest of the afternoon into night riding around town until you completely forgot about the stress of the day. It was a win-win in Shuji's mind. You weren't upset anymore, and he got to spend hours with the feeling of your arms wrapped around him for once instead of smacking him.

********************************************************************

🧚🏾‍♀️A/N: Ugh, I love Shuji, he's such a goofy, tall cutie.

DON'T STEAL MY WORK✋🏾🛑

[bunni-v1]

(Twenty) Nine Lives for Love

Chapter 4: Right. Prev Chapter\\Next Chapter m.list

Tw: Feelings; Crumbling relationships with parents (dw it'll be fineeeee)

Info: Kenma x Reader ; Kuroo and Reader; Kuroo is a wingman (bad at his job); Maki is still fat

Word Count: 5.3k 🍓Soooo, I finally had time to edit this (yay!) I was supposed to work on Curee but uhm... no! Kenma Kozume you will never ever want me the way I want you, but you take precedence!

Tag List: @angel-academia @bi-bi-papillon

By the time practice is out on Thursday, you have fully relaxed into your new routine at Nekoma. Walk to school with Kuroo and Kenma, attend class, eat lunch with Kenma (now featuring both Yamamoto and Fukunaga), head to practice, and then grab snacks from the convenience store after it's all done. It’s easy and much like your old one at Karasuno, so you get comfortable quickly, especially with how friendly and receptive the team has been to you. 

As you approach your neighborhood today, Kuroo offers to let you come over for some of his gran's delicious sweetbread, but you decline. His disappointment makes you feel like you kicked a kitten, but you have prior commitments. So, you promise you’ll have the time another day, and he and Kenma wave you off.

As usual, your old man isn’t home when you get back. Never early, never late. Your school bag thumps to the floor as Maki greets you with excited chirps. You take the time to make sure she has food, sweep the floors, and do some other chores before heading up to your room for your final task of the day: Calling Noya and Tanaka. (Calling it a “task” was an exaggeration, you were excited to talk to them again.) It was an odd time to do so, but you promised them so you couldn’t back out now. You pull the laptop you’ve had since middle school out from your desk that you’ve had just as long, and nestle yourself into your pillows. Your Dad and your Mom (and your Stepdad) offered to get you a new one, but you can’t bring yourself to do it just yet. You’re too damn sappy. It whirrs to life, fans a bit too loud to be a good sign, and you’re greeted with a picture of yourself and Noya covered in mud and bruises.

It’s your favorite picture of you two together. Back when life was good and easy and all you were worried about was when the next volume of Shonen Jump was coming out and making sure you got the first spot in line for recess. Your mom took this picture, and you know it was her because she was the one who scolded the two of you for making such a mess of yourselves right before dinner. You briefly think about going through the other pictures on the clunky thing, but Skype pops up and starts chiming to remind you that had better things to do. You accept the call, immediately greeted by Tanaka’s awful posters of half-naked women behind his bald head and Noya squinting way too close to the camera to get a good look at said posters.

“Don’t look too hard, you’ll pop a blood vessel,” you say dryly.

“He’s popping something, that's for sure,” Tanaka responds smoothly – ironic coming from him.

“I am not!” He defends, then slowly adds, “...yet…”

You roll your eyes, “Both of you are nasty.”

“I didn’t even do anything!” Tanaka argues.

“It’s your poster you perv!” You shout back.

“Hey! Admiring beauty does not make me a pervert! In fact, you’re the perverted one for thinking like that.” He shoots back.

You scoff, crossing your arms haughtily, “Do your legs hurt from making that leap? If not, I can come back to Miyagi and break ‘em for ya.”

“Guys c’mon, we can try and kill each other later,” Noya says, somehow the voice of reason despite being the cause of the problem, and points accusingly at you (you think, because he’s just pointing at his computer screen), “You owe us a catch-up, Miss too-busy-to-text-my-best-friends.”

You sigh at Tanaka’s childish ‘yeah!’ holding your hands up in defeat. You had been busy with the team and adjusting, but in your defense, you were texting them! Just not as much as normal, not enough to give them a real run-down of your daily life – which was enough for their complaining to be reasonable. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. It’s not all that exciting like you’re thinking – not like that little redhead Tanaka’s been talking about, at least.”

Tanaka groans, whining about getting up early every day. He was just such a good senpai, helping his little freshmen train. Both you and Noya call him an idiot, which derails the conversation for a little while until Noya suddenly gains consciousness again and bitches at you to get on with it.

You proceed to tell them almost everything that’s happened in the past week so far. Kuroo and Kenma, managing the volleyball team, your classes, and of course giving them a much-needed Maki update after she trods herself up to your room. (Noya insists she got fatter, Tanaka thinks she’s slimmer, and you think you need to have a serious chat about the amount of treats your Dad is giving her). They’re very interested in the volleyball club, which was expected of them. You swear they have a volleyball instead of brains sometimes.

“So… you’re pretty much their manager,” Tanaka drawls, chewing loudly on some chips Saeko gave him earlier.

“It's not official yet.” You correct. You can feel Shimizu-Senpai’s ire from Miyagi already. You hope she can find someone to replace you this year. “Offical sign-ups for clubs start tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Noya hums, also munching on something bready that you can’t make out on his pixelated screen, “you’re gonna say yes, so why be so dodgy about it?”

You frown, evading your eyes, which tips both of your friends off that something is up. It’s not as if you didn’t want to say yes. Saying no to the position felt like a sin against every god you could name. There was just a little, tiny, itty bitty anxious part of you that was filled with what-ifs. What if you’re not good at it long term? What if the team was only tolerating you? What if it’s overstepping boundaries? What if you don’t have the time with classes?

“Oi!” Noya shouts, getting close to the camera again. If he were here he would probably grab you by the face and force you to look him in the eyes. That alone makes you slide your eyes back to the screen to look at his glare.

“Quit overthinking things,” Tanaka scolds – which feels wrong, considering he’s normally the one being yelled at. This whole friendship thing works both ways, you suppose.

“I know–” You try, but they aren’t having it this time.

“No! You’re gonna go to the sign-ups tomorrow,” Noya starts.

Tanaka continues, “You’re gonna… fill out those forms, or whatever!”

“Then you’re gonna give them to the coach right away. No ifs ands or buts.” Noya finishes, poking his camera for emphasis.

“Okay! Okay, I’m gonna say yes, I promise,” Shimizu-Senpai is out there somewhere, planning her revenge on you.

There's a nice lull in the conversation, and you think you almost got away with not talking about Kenma. You did try not to make a big deal out of him or Kuroo, but alas, Nishinoya Yuu and Tanaka Ryunosuke are not your best friends for no reason.

“Sooo,” Noya drawls, and you know what's coming, “tell us more about that Kenma guy~”

“Ugh, god, I knew you were gonna make a deal out of him.” You complain, visibly flustered.

“There is something up with him!” Tanaka declares, “Told’ja she was hiding something from us.”

“Nothing is up with him, okay? He’s just…” You struggle to put it into words. What is he? Nice was too mild. Amazing was too much. 

“A total hottie?” (Tanaka.)

“The love of your life?” (Noya.)

Your idiots say at the same time, forcing a sigh past your lips, “No. He’s just… he’s right. You know? He’s right.”

“Right?” They say in sync, then nod as if they understand and repeat, “He’s right.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, a little weight lifted off your shoulders, “It’s like we were meant to meet. Everything is easy and comfortable. It’s… right.”

Then, when you feel like you have solved the puzzle, the dreaded question comes, from Tanaka of course, “Do you think he’s your soulmate?”

The weight is back, and your friends can tell from how quickly they try to backtrack, but you’d rather talk to them a little about it than shove it down.

“He doesn’t believe in soulmates. I think he thinks they’re silly,” you laugh dryly, chest aching, “besides, just because I click well with him doesn’t mean he’s my soulmate. I get along great with Kuroo too!”

“But it’s different with that Kenma guy,” Noya says simply, ripping apart any rationalization you’ve been able to do the past few days, “like you said, it feels right. He’s right.”

You think about it for a long moment, trying to find a good way around what he said. As usual, though, you just can’t beat Noya’s simple, straightforward logic. You can’t complicate something so incredibly uncomplicated.

“Even if he is my soulmate, which he probably isn’t, I won’t push it on him,” you respond, voice thoughtful and quiet, “He’s a friend first, and if he happens to be my soulmate, I don’t want to push him away with daydreams.”

That gets them to back off long enough that you can masterfully change subjects back to the new freshmen on Karasuno’s team. You take a stab at trying to convince Noya to rejoin, but as usual, he’s too stubborn to reason with. Talking with them, as always, is easy. It almost feels like you’re right there in the room with them, if it weren’t for the way Noya’s audio glitches every once in a while. You get so lost talking to them that, before you know it, it’s 8:30 and your Dad is shouting for you to come down to eat. You didn’t even hear him come home. He didn’t even bother saying hello.

With promises that you would text them more consistently, and that you’d definitely plan a trip to Miyagi over a break, you hang up the call and join your father for another tense dinner. Ever since you had accidentally ignored him on Tuesday, he’d been a bit distant. He was still warm and loving, but you could tell it seriously hurt him when you broke the routine. So, you’d been doing your best to keep everything as balanced as always. You chat about classes, practice, and the latest movies coming out. Nothing that could rock the boat, because it already had enough water in it, and you couldn’t afford it sinking.

Speaking of sunken ships, he mentions that your Mother and Stepdad wanted to come visit sometime. Which was fine with you, but you knew things were tense between the three of them, so you left the decision up to him. By the time you make it back up to your room, you want nothing more than to collapse and sleep for a million years so you don’t have to deal with the weirdness surrounding you and your dad. 

It lingered around the house. In each dark corner where light doesn’t quite reach, each creak of its old bones, each awkward silence left in the still kind of strange-smelling air there is a discomforting reminder that things are not right with him. There is an ache in your muscles that you must fix it, and a stab to your stomach when you realize you don’t know how to. It makes you want to sleep forever; let your muscles relax for just a little bit.

Sleeping Beauty had it pretty good, you think. At least she had a prince waiting for her. All you had was a cat the size of a medium dog and two of the dumbest people you’d ever met a few hundred miles away. In a last-ditch effort to feel better, you slide the box labeled ‘textbooks’ out from under your bed and dig out the object of your desire. The studies of soulmates.

You’d managed to masterfully (sloppily) hide them from your dad. Thank god you have (had?) a good relationship, or else he might’ve gone through your room and found them already. With greedy fingers, you tug the only bookmarked one out from the bottom of the box, flipping it open with a big grin on your face. Reading about soulmates always made you feel better. Always. 

This was volume three of six of the original set – your mother did not have the revised versions the author put out shortly before they had passed. Still, the first edition of the first two volumes was fascinating, if not for minor inaccuracies. Volume one covered entirely what soulmates are; who can be a soulmate; how the lifetimes of soulmates intertwine, and things along that line. Volume two discussed “the in-between”, the place between life and death. This volume you were on, however, discussed the process of discovering your soulmate.

You had read through the more… logistical parts of the book and were now on the part about the feelings. It was a short chapter, as far as you could tell, but it would be enough to maybe make you feel better. Grazing over the parts you’d already read, you quickly ended up back where you had left off. The spark. 

“The ‘spark’ is not a concrete thing, nor is it entirely flexible. It occurs differently for every person and creature that may experience it, and yet there is one thing that is common among all described experiences. Without fail, all people who have experienced this ‘spark’ have a sense of intense familiarity regarding everything related to their soulmate. A sense of belonging within their other half’s social life. Family, friends, hobbies, pets, and everything in between seem to settle into place without any effort.”

You nod along to the words on your page, comprehending them as best as you can. You recalled Tanaka talking about something like that with Kiyoko, though you doubted it a bit at the time. You flipped the page, deciding it was best not to dwell on how ironically familiar this was all sounding. The next section covered several other facts about the connection between two soulmates, but you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking about that short but impactful paragraph. 

You did not want to be dramatic, nor did you want to sound insane, but you had noticed a familiarity with Kenma. About… everything surrounding him. The way you felt like you’d found a missing puzzle piece beneath the foot of a table, one you’d long since given up looking for. Like you waited a whole lifetime to finally click into place with him. You’d only met him four days ago, though. You did not know him. Certainly not enough to be acting this delusional. He was right, though. (Your heart insists it, loud and clanging like church bells in your steeple of a chest).

You try for a little longer to read the text, but it all blurs together with the rampant thoughts of hope singing in your brain. You growl at yourself, slamming the book shut and shoving it back under the bed in the box. (Maki startles, yowling and flying across the room in fear, though you don’t pay her any mind.) You’d only managed to make things worse by thinking about Kenma. He was not your soulmate, and even if he was he didn’t believe they existed. That shuts down any chance of this wild pipe dream coming true – NOT that you had any intention of chasing it in the first place. Hell, you hardly believed it. It would be too easy. Too simple. Too convenient. That is not how the universe was and you knew better than to fool yourself into thinking that.

With nothing but anger and annoyance left in the place of energy, you grumpily toss on your pajamas and decide to call it a night. Maki crawled up into bed – hesitantly like you might throw her next – and curled against your side. Tomorrow would come fast, and you’d be able to forget about your stupid thoughts in the morning. That's what you kept repeating in your head to stop your mind from drifting again.

.·:*˚¨¨ ≈★≈ ¨¨˚*:·.

You do not sleep well, and because of this, you manage to sleep in nearly too late. You miss seeing your Dad off, and you hardly have enough time to get changed, let alone eat before you are flying out the front door. You hope Kenma and Kuroo are waiting for you, though you wouldn’t blame them for ditching. Just because you’re late doesn’t mean they have to be. Lucky you, they are good friends, and they’re awaiting your arrival patiently at your front gate.

“Sorry, I’m late!” You apologize, still hopping into your shoes as you exit the front gate, “Just couldn’t get up this morning!”

Kuroo shrugs your worries off, “Just means we won’t have time to stop at the vending machine.”

Kenma busies himself with straightening out your hair, a habit that he’d started after the head pat incident. It makes your cheeks flush with heat, but neither of you bother to acknowledge it,  and luckily Kuroo doesn’t care either. “Means we don’t have to deal with Yamamoto this morning.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll find a way to be a problem,” You laugh, Kenma sighs, and then you remember something you’d been meaning to ask, “Oh! Wait, before we go! Which houses are yours?”

They both give you odd looks, like you should know by now, but… you don’t. You give them an awkward shrug, and they return the gesture, letting it roll off their shoulders.

“Mine is the kinda misshapen grey one over there, and Kenma’s is–” Kuroo explains.

“It’s that one,” Kenma cuts off, pointing to the one neighboring Kuroo’s. They’re both across the street just three houses down. No wonder they gave you weird looks, you totally should’ve figured that out, especially with their names on them.

Kenma’s is shorter than Kuroo’s, which makes it stick out a little amongst the other houses. It’s an off-white color with brown trimming, simple but inviting. You feel like you’ve seen it before. Like you’ve walked up its cobblestone path and right through its front door. That was impossible, you think as you turn on your heel, you’d never been to Kenma’s house.

“Boy, do I look stupid,” you laugh, leading the way so you can get to class on time.

“You always go in right away,” Kuroo dismisses, “I wouldn’t’ve put it together either.”

“Our names are on the front gates,” Kenma mutters, ending the conversation, still lost in his PS Vita as usual. You wonder what he was playing… you peek over his shoulder, and he leans in closer to let you see. Oh, it was one of those Persona games. You watch him play with interest for a while, maybe you should get into the franchise. It was visually pleasing, and the gameplay looked fun. Despite your best efforts to distract yourself with his game, your mind still wanders back to the houses. That sense of Deja Vu was hard to ignore.

“Y’know,” you announce suddenly, “Your houses are kinda… familiar? When I was looking at Kenma’s, I felt like I’d already gone through the whole place. Isn’t that odd?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo echos, “maybe you have prophetic dreams of house tours.”

You scoff, readying a comeback, but notice Kenma has this kind of quiet look on his face. Like he wants to say something, but he isn’t sure if he should say it. They’re common from him, especially around you. Normally Kuroo would be the one to poke at him, but since you’re already close, you give him a little nudge, “What’s on your mind, Kenma?”

He frowns a little, hesitant as he answers, “I feel the same way about your place.”

“Oh?” Is all you can manage, and you hope you don’t look as stupid as you sound.

His eyes are fixated on the game, though he isn’t doing anything in it anymore, and he nods, “Yeah. When I first came to pick you up, I got this feeling like I’d been there before. For reasons other than visiting the Shirashi’s with my parents, if that makes sense.”

You try to crush the glimmering hope in your chest. You were not thinking about soulmate stuff today. You told yourself today was a no soulmate talk kind of day and you meant it. (If you didn’t want Kenma to know how deeply your adoration for the concept ran, that would be humiliating.)

“Oooo~ Maybe you two are soulmates!” Kuroo purrs, shattering any thought of ‘no soulmates.’

You huff, face heating up. Dammit Kuroo Tetsurou, did he have it out for you or something? You brace yourself for his adamant denial, but it doesn’t come. You realize then his ears are bright red and– oh my god, he’s so cute when he’s embarrassed. Wait. Why was he embarrassed? 

You curse Kuroo out in your head, but just as fast as he brought this curse upon you, he remedied it with smooth words and quick thinking. “Just kidding! I know Kenma doesn’t believe in that kinda thing.”

“It’s not–” Kenma starts, clearly more bothered than he expected himself to be. He takes a deep breath, then tries again, “I don’t not believe in them, I just don’t… It’s too romantic to accept that they’re real. Waiting lifetime after lifetime for one person? Too dramatic for real life.”

You couldn’t argue with that. It was the same idea your Dad had about them, but he was more bitter about it. If you were a different person with a different Mom and a different childhood, you’d probably think the same way. 

“That’s what makes them so nice though, right?” Kuroo argues, “Someone out there that was made just for you? Sign me up!”

“Exactly,” you accidentally say out loud, and the three of you are finally approaching the front gates of Nekoma High. Looks like you’re failing at the no soulmates thing. “I mean… maybe they aren’t real and I’m just being childish, but… someone who just understands me effortlessly sounds nice. Logical or not.”

“Logic is what makes sense of everything,” Kenma counters, “Without it, we wouldn’t understand anything.”

“Yeah, and that's all good and fine, but emotions aren’t logical. The way we feel doesn’t make any sense most of the time, so why would eternal love be any different?” You ask aloud.

“Bingo.” Kuroo punctuated with two finger guns pointed your way. “Not everything has to make sense, and not everything will. Soulmates are just one of those things that you’ve gotta have trust in your feelings for.”

Kenma doesn’t say anything as the three of you make your way up the stairs, the five-minute bell chiming at a higher pitch than the ten-minute overhead. You want to apologize, but Kuroo shoots you a hidden thumbs up to assure you, so you don’t. Kenma is tense for the rest of the day. Quiet and thoughtful, though he still takes the time to talk to you. It leaves you feeling all warm inside that he would account for you, despite what’s happening in his head.

During lunch, he doesn’t pull out his PS Vita like he usually does, which Fukunaga points out as strange. Kenma says the battery is low, but you know it’s not because it was at full charge when you peaked at it this morning. Yamamoto is also late, which you know Kenma is more than happy for, but you can’t help but worry. What if he doesn’t eat? How horrible! He’s an athlete, he needs to eat a lot to stay strong and healthy. (It’s nice to be distracted from your worry over Kenma.)

Your worries are squashed when he bursts through the door of your classroom, scaring several unsuspecting students with his heavy panting. Was he sweating? Did he run here? From where? His aura is intense as he approaches you, face hardened into a determined glare. If you hadn’t taken time to get to know him, you’d think he was trying to kill you. He stops right in front of you, the toes of his shoes almost touching yours. He shoves something in your face, not a knife (thank god), but a flimsy sheet of paper.

The three of you give him an odd look, wordlessly asking what his issue was, but he waggles the paper. You take it, careful to avoid brushing your fingers with him, and read over it. It was… an application for managing sports teams… Most of it was already filled out in messy handwriting. You grin, looking back up at the incredibly red Yamamoto.

Fukunaga grabs for it, and you let him take it with no resistance. He laughs as he reads it, and finally, Kenma grabs it. Instead of amusement, which you didn’t expect in the first place, he’s… annoyed. He glares at the paper like it’s personally offended him. You try and pretend not to see it, though it does make your heart ache a little. (Does he not want you to sign up? He was the first person who asked, so what’s his deal?)

“I realized you hadn’t applied officially to be our manager, and I thought I’d give you a headstart,” Yamamoto admits awkwardly as the paper finally makes its way back into your hands, “Most of it should be filled out.”

You smile at the paper, “This is sweet Yamamoto, thanks. I was planning on signing up at the activities fair, but I guess this saves me the trouble, huh?”

“You can give that to coach at the fair,” Fukunaga explains, “It’s the easiest way to apply and should guarantee your spot. Not that we were expecting any applications outside of you in the first place.”

“Just trying to play it safe,” Yamamoto defends, “don’t wanna lose her right as she settles in.”

“Thanks, guys,” you say with a big grin, “I’ll finish it up, then we can walk together to get it turned in?”

Fukunaga gives you a quiet thumbs up, while Yamamoto yells his acceptance, earning glares from the other students situated around the room. You glance to Kenma for his approval, but he’s too busy thinking again. You shrug it off because if you think too hard about it, you’ll worry.

.·:*˚¨¨ ≈★≈ ¨¨˚*:·.

Practice is canceled for the day thanks to the activities fair. Kuroo, Nobuyuki, and Coach Nekomata are all going to be promoting the volleyball club, so there’s no real reason to go. As promised, you and a still pensive Kenma wait patiently for Fukunaga and Yamamoto in your classroom. You’d been able to avoid how uncomfortable Kenma’s silence had made you all day because you’d had other things to do. Yamamoto even noticed though he had no idea what his deal was. Now that it was just you and him… well, you can’t avoid it.

“Okay,” you announce, pressing your palms flat on his desk, “time to fess up. What’re you thinking about so intensely?”

He blinks at you, surprised, then he shifts his gaze to the chalkboard behind you, “Was it that obvious?”

“You lied about your PS being dead,” you put plainly, “that’s super weird.”

He lets out a breath, and then shrugs in defeat, “I was just thinking about the stuff from this morning.”

Your head tilts a little, “What? The house stuff?”

“The soulmate stuff. Why would I be thinking about the house stuff?” He snarks, pulling back a little when you laugh.

“That makes a lot more sense,” you giggle, and he rolls his eyes in what you think is a playful manner (playful for him, at least), “I’m sorry if what I said bothered you. I get that it can sound… insane… if you don’t believe in them.”

He shrugs, eyes still avoiding yours. You appreciate it a little. You think if he looks at you, you’ll do something stupid.

“I played a game about soulmates once,” he mumbles, leaning back to glare at the ceiling. You lean forward, resting on your arms now. “It was cute, really romantic. You played as each partner and helped them navigate through their lives. There were a bunch of close calls where they almost met, but something always messes up and keeps them apart in every life. Then, at the end of the game, they finally meet, and it ends when they realize.”

“That is cute.” You hum attentively.

His head shoots up looking at you with an unreadable expression, “It was scary.”

You blink at him, and without meaning to, you laugh a little, “What? You just described a romance novel and you found it… scary?”

He huffs, “It’s not the romance stuff, it’s the ending.”

“What’s so scary about soulmates meeting?” You say incredulous.

“It ends,” He states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, “everyone talks about soulmates like they’re the final destination. The story‘s over once you meet them. It’s awful. Immediate game over.”

You scoff, “Ken,” The nickname is so natural it makes you sick, “Meeting your soulmate isn’t the end, it’s the beginning.”

It’s his turn to blink at you, head tilting curiously. It makes you smile, and without thinking you grab his hands and squeeze them. It’s a comforting gesture your Mom always did when you were confused or upset or anything other than happy. You think he could use it too. He stares at where they connect with wide eyes, and his ears burn red again. 

“Sure, you spent like a gazillion lives trying to find that one person, but when you find them…” you try hard to remember how Noya’s Gramps put it, then try to translate that to something he can understand “It’s like you defeated a final boss, and the huge XP boost it gives you allows your character to level up into a new class type. Does that make sense? I don’t play a lot of RPGs.”

At some point during your explanation he affixed his gaze on you, intense eyes practically drinking in all of your features like it was the first time he’d seen you. It makes your stomach flip, especially when he squeezes your hands back. “Close enough.” That is all he says, and it's the only indication that you might’ve gotten through to him. The two of you sit and stare at each other for a good long moment, unsure of what you should say – if you even should speak.

“Ooo, are we interrupting something?” A playful voice sounds from the doorway. Both of your heads whip around to see who it is, and you grin, thanking the universe for Morisuke’s abrasiveness. You might’ve kissed Kenma if it weren’t for him. (Did you really just admit that to yourself?)

Kenma pulls away first and quickly busies himself with packing away his things. You smile at him, then stand and toss your bag over your shoulder. “We were just talking. What are you doing here Morisuke-Senpai?”

“I heard about Yamamoto’s scheming, so I figured I might as well be a part of it too,” He snickers.

“It wasn’t scheming! It was… tactical coercion.” Yamamoto defends.

“That sounds worse,” Fukunaga comments candidly.

“Really?” Yamamoto squeals.

You huff a laugh out of your nose, walking up to them with Kenma at your side. “You guys are too loud,” He complains.

You ruffle his hair to appease him, which seems to work like a charm. You ignore how shocked his friends seem at it, “Let's go get this turned in. I can’t wait to officially be your manager!”

A chorus of cheers (followed by a groan) comes from the boys around you, and you lead the way through the halls until you realize you don’t know where you’re going, then Morisuke leads the way. With promises of celebratory pork buns, you all pick up the pace, though you let yourself fall back a little to keep Kenma company as the other three glavant forward.

You look at the piece of paper in your hands, a mix of Yamamoto’s handwriting and yours. Then your eyes drift over the three boys and finally land on Kenma. For once, he’s already looking at you. You give him a grin, and he smiles a little back.

[imaginespazzi]

Nivi!!! Since you are so diligently sticking to your schedule (you’re so inspiring babes), I thought I should at the very least try to get this review to you on time too! Imma just combine parts 5 & 6 in this one so apologies if gets too long. Also, I haven’t really had a chance to scroll and read through other people’s reviews for part 5 so I’m so sorry if I end up repeating what everyone else may have already said.

FIRST OF ALL, Back to December as the lyric reference for Part 5 was *chef’s kiss* - mainly because that’s gotta be one of my top Taylor songs of all time, ah the wistfulness 🥲

DREW cameo!! The only one with brain cells. Cause he’s right, they’re all stupid! (But we love them anyway).

“Please don’t get married Paigey,” Drew pleads, gripping his sister’s hand, “please.” ­– this really got me though. Poor Drew, like he never imagined he’d be having to witness his sister ever marry someone who wasn’t Azzi too! He just wanted his pookie back 🥺

Paige finding out about Azzi’s pregnancy through TikTok feels very on-brand lmao (ugh does that mean there were Olivia and Paige edits once upon a time 🥴), and them still commenting congratulations on each other’s post about the engagement and the pregnancy to keep up the friendly act killed me. Could. Not. Be. Me.

Katie and Paige interactions have my whole heart. Whenever I think about them, I always end up thinking about that immunity booster video so I’m glad it got the mention in part 5!

What is it with you and these damn phone calls, Nivi!! “You’re gonna be a wonderful wife P.” “You’re gonna be an amazing mom Az.” – once again, cue “and it would have been sweet, if it could have been me”. WELL IT COULD HAVE IF Y’ALL WEREN’T BEING STUPID (sorry, had to channel my inner Drew there).

“Please don’t speak in riddles. It’s 10 a.m and I’m sad,” Paige whines. She might be in her early thirties but there’s something about Katie Fudd that makes Paige feel like it’s okay to be a bit of a child. – Obsessed with this because I just feel like you perfectly captured their relationship with this line.

“You’re so goddamn dramatic Bueckers,” Katie rolls her eyes –so real for this cause Paige really was being dramatic af since Azzi left with Stephie. Standing on the porch for way-too-long just staring into the distance then breaking down in the fort and not moving for 3 hours. DRAMATIC. But like sad 😔

The comparison between Paige’s expression when talking about Stephie and Tim’s when he first met Azzi. I was waiting for something like this! My heart.

Steph (old) cameo! I’ll allow it, cause despite my hatred for the Warriors, I do loooove that man.

“What defense can a 5 year old play…” – idk why but I had a good chuckle at this, I just love when you pull these one-liners, the comedic timing is impeccable.

Katie with some GREAT lines too.

Pleaseee, not the UNCLE TWIN and TWIN NIECE 😆 I knoww Steph (man) loves the fact that his goddaughter, who’s prolly gonna go on and be a Golden State legend herself, is named after him.

I know it’s super cute, but I do be cracking up a lil everytime Stephie and Paige reunite cause it’s always so goddamn dramatic. Like girly pops please, it’s barely been 24 HOURS 😭

Yeah, Paige gonna be SPOILING her queen and their princess forever.

THEY KISSED.

I may or may not always let out an undignified squeal when I see a high school era flashback. Like those are always my favourites fr. You just never fail to make them feel so nostalgic.

Their first kiss, damn Paige really been a lover girl since 16 huh 🥹 Also the transition from their first kiss to what could be their last first kiss was perfection!

Although, idk if the “slow” that Katie had in mind meant kissing already but hey, they’re moving!

Look, as long as we get at least one cute family scene with our fave trio then that’s all the serotonin I really need for the day (week) and the scene with the flowers and the car seat was exactly that, pure serotonin.

Paige and the Fudds reunion 🥰

Stephie really is ride-or-die for her perfect Miss Buecks!

“Dumbapples” – LMAOOOO sometimes the brain cells just don’t always be braincelling.

And they finally get a redo on that sleepover, where no one leaves, at least not until pancakes have been served.

What’s next?

I’ve been thinking about the break-up too much- like when in 2025? Was it during the season? So before the natty?? But like there’s no way you could be that cruel, Nivi! You couldn’t have them finally winning the natty only for them to be heartbroken while doing so?

Or worse, have them win the natty and make P think she’s got everything she could ever want only for that to come crashing down not long after??

But like definitely pre-draft night maybe?? I guess that would make sense with Azzi overthinking things and worrying about being left behind? Sorry, am just thinking out loud atp!

But like were there already cracks forming even earlier in that year?? Cause if so, I’m curious about Paige’s proposal and the timing of it hmmm. My braincells are attempting to be braincells.🧠

I’m still awaiting that Drew and Azzi reunion cause Drew being so heartbroken that he really tried to stop the wedding all by himself hurt me. I can imagine for Drew too, how much he probably looked to Paige and Azzi as his ideal of what a relationship and love is, only for them to fall apart as well. Plus seeing how close irl Drew is to the Fudds makes me big sad for GH Drew 😞

I can’t wait for Coach P and Player Stephie dynamics!! The favouritism is really not gonna be subtle no matter how hard Paige tries 😃

Soooo, Part 6 was suspiciously too fluffy ya know, I feel like you’re just setting us up. Giving us a taste of joy, only to rip it from us next chapter. I’m on evil writer Nivi watch.

Favourite lines/quotes:

“Did I know that my granddaughter goes to her godfather’s special camp for the sport that her mother plays and she’s obsessed with?”

Because the view in front of them is beautiful but Paige’s eyes are on Azzi and she’s staring at her as if the view is nothing in comparison. – side note: this line and this scene made me nostalgic for the stargazing scene in the UCLA fic 🥹

Alright bestie, this review is a biiig boi but I thought I owed you for being late with the part 5 review so hopefully this makes up for it a little! Also, I’ll prolly be late in reviewing the next one if (when 🤞) it’s out next week cause life is lifing so I’m sorry in advance 😭

Thank you as always for keeping us warm and fed! Hope you’re doing well btw!! Is the baby fever still at a high? Cause I was at the park with my friend and her 1-yr old the other day and omg he was being the sweetest little bean ever and the baby fever was FEVERING but then I realised I’m a baby (adult) too so I promptly brought the fever back to reality 😅

Love ya Nivi, have a great week ahead bestie 💗

-🙋‍♀️

BABES HELLOOO <3 I've been waiting for your thoughts!

This whole fic is very Back to December coded and it's one of my top 5s too and it just fit so well with chapter 5

#FreeDrewBueckersFromDumbassPaigeyAndPookie my poor little man was traumatized and they need to make it up to him immediately

I LOVE KATIE FUDD. And she just gives such entertaining chaotic mom energy and I feel like especially with Paige, she really keep that girl humble (and holds her when she needs it)

The 1 references galore because while I won't subject y'all to an actual depressing fic, I simply can't stop myself from adding the vibes

LMAO Steph is so universally loved I kinda adore that man and he'll be making an appearance again at some point I think.

Listen Stephie and Paige are the definition of matching each other's freak except it's matching each other's dramatics like they're gonna run into each other's arms like they haven't seen each other in years every damn time

Katie tried to nudge them and didn't realize all these idiots needed was a tap to literally full-speed a head (well with some breaks of course)

I cackled writing dumbapples ngl

The marriage proposal is definitely before the draft...that's all you're getting lol

Y'all think Azzi's guilty now when no one's even saying anything to her, just wait for Drew Bueckers and his way with words :)

I am also very excited for more Curry Camp scenes!

I don't think anyone loves or understand the stargazing the scene the way you do babes and I appreciate it <3

Ah lovie, review whenever you can. Even if it's months and month later, I will still be just as excited to read your thoughts!

The baby fever is in fact still higkey baby fever-ing and I don't know how and when it'll stop but I'm not even really trying to stop it.

[solarnomy]

hello. hi.. um. (yes, i DO say 'um' and stuff through text ironically. i doNOT know why.) im kinda new to tumblr (now, that's a half-lie, i have used tumblr for a while now, just never posted!) so here's an attempt to make a pinned!!.., feel free to give me tips.. im dumb. um press more and stuff to learn about me!! im cool!! so please do it?

hihihi, im solarnomy (or solar, and galxxy on SOME occasions. ) i'm (currently) into minecraft (may or may not have got it on some freaky virus-filled website, it's cause im poor okay. mc is 'expensive' where i live!) oh!!! and i go by she/they (or literally any NON-MASC pronouns! i don't really mind.)

i post art (sometimes, if i don't procrastinate!),, uh edits (i probably won't due to fear..... cause im still ass at editing and stuff), and maybe, if i don't suddenly go like "oh god, what if i post this and everyone hates it and im hated forever??", maybe-just maybe, ill ramble and yap about something im currently hyperfixated on..

(press more to learn more COOLER and EPIC stuff about me! hopefully i won't mess this up and make a mockery of myself.. ahh)

I WATCH MOSTLY UHH, kenadian (wow, really?), wato1876, avatardotpng, and SOME lifestealers!! yeahhhahahah (squiddo.... and uhhhhhhh squiddo.... OH PARROT.. if he counts... uhhhhh) and, here's some other content creators that i watch (but not as much as the ones i just said haha); wifies, astrangecreator, boosfer, ivory, sleepycross!!

and some non-minecraft content creators i watch!!!!! >>> danny gonzalez, itsfunneh/krew, kubz scouts, laurenzside, manlybadasshero, rednasyo!!

now.. onto the fandoms im into/games i play!! (yipee)

- minecraft... (wow, really?)

- genshin impact..... (barely play it nowadays)

- hsr (same as genshin, i barely play it)

- rusty lake (i haven't played all of the games yet :'D)

- ex pjsk player... (im trying to start playing it again!!)

- musedash!!!!!!!!!!!

- death pallette- pallet? oh god i can't spell palletetsteteay.

- nso/needy streamer overload

- roblox. (donate robux, please?)

and more that i probably forgot, but when mentioned, ill go "OH MY GOD? YOU KNOW THAT TOO?"

more about me, im a MINOR?!?!?! gasp??!!! shokerz, man! im usually busy with school... but on weekends, i get freaky... /joke

dnis are probably weirdos... uhhh, homophobes and stuff... urrmm, idrk.. just mind your business and i won't bother you!! likeee if you no bother me!! i cool!! uhh,,!

funfacts about me??? uhh, i have a wife!! (love her sm!!) and im really cool cause i speak a lot of languages (not really, it's 2 and a half... and a ⅛... haha.... yeah)

okay,, that's probably it!! i spent TOO LONG on this!! oh and, feel free to send me reqs and stuff!! im open!!!

oh ya tags n stuff

#solarnomy777 = my really cool art

#solarnomy999 = random yapping

#solarnomy671 = answering stuff ^_^

[leynaeithnea]

Question

Are there other musicals that you like a lot ? ( If yes you're very welcome to yap about them 🙃 )

Im so behind on musicals ngl lmaooo and none of the ones I've watched ever caused such hyperfocus obsession as Epic, back in 2020 (?) I listened a LOT to hamiltion, its a really great musical, "Who lives who dies who tells your story" still makes me tear up as well as "quiet uptwn", and im still avoiding phillips songs, "Wait for it" is probably one of my favorite songs because a lot of the time I can really relate to Burrs sentiment, and "dear theodorisa" is so beautiful....mmhh, many many good songs there! could probabyl ramble a bunch more abotu them, but my love for them dont reach as deep as for epic i also like some songs from a few other musicals, evan hansen (they accompanied me a lot through 2021) , be more chill, heathers, .....OH yeah i love hazbin hotel, thats a lot of fun, but yeah for those kind of except hazbin bc its a show, i just tend to pick out my favorite songs and im not too much into the rest of them mhhhh besides that Ive been going to musicals and plays with my family for as long as i can remember to some local stages, theres a big-ish small one near my moms where we went regularly for years with elementary school and in private and at my dads we would go to the christmas play/musical almost ever year at the local stage there with my whole family there I miss that tbh, i gotta do that more often since im watching Casper and Mortius a lot right now who do a lot of muscial content im probably going to get to know a few others soon, like hadestown (been aware of it for a while but never really got into it) and SIX Oh I forgorrr, sometime around christmas or so a concept album for a christian musical came out and i was obssessed with that for a week or two, the vocals in that are REALLY good, its called "Of Ashes", and its a retelling of the leper and uh...a story about a whore...? (...yeah no im not that familiar with the bible) im also not that religious or christian but it rly is a great musical and has some amazingggg vocals my obssesion with epic makes me realize i shouldve really been a theatre kid, i was a choir kid up until 10th grade and i really miss that but i rly love acting, i just need a LOT of practice and i also suck at improvisation....im..trying, but its a looot easier when i have a script I can follow, thats why acitng out epic wiht my friend was so fun! bc i knew what was coming and because we didnt really discuss it long beforehand so stagefright and overthinking about being perceived didnt kick in seigjseg ...and it was just the two of us so that helped too...ANYWYA yeah i gotta go to cultural events like choir and theatre stuff soo much often and try to get active in them myself... pfffttt, here i was thinking my response to this would be very short bc "i dont know that many other musicals" .....thank you for the ask 💗

EDIT: the one BIG Stage Musical i watched was "starlight express" as a kid, that was a LOT of fun, i gotta go to one of these again

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #52

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please enjoy.

It was a gloomy sort of day outside - raining as hard as I’d ever seen it. The clouds were so thick and grey that the only light that managed to illuminate the city was that of momentary flashes of lightning.

It was the perfect sort of weather to spend inside with a cup of tea. I took a sip and flinched when the still-nearly-boiling liquid singed my tongue. A minute more to cool.

The very moment I set it down on my side table coaster, there was a knocking at the apartment door. At first quiet, nearly ignorable, it got louder and louder. By the ten second mark, it was a pounding, pleading sort of knock. I looked through the peephole, and through the distorted lens could not make out the face cloaked in darkness. Still, the figure continued banging on the door. Against better judgment, I opened it - though with the chain still attached.

The figure brought their eye to the opening, and I was mortified to see my own face staring at me, saying “You are capable of great evil.”

If it was anyone else saying so, I’d tell them to take a hike, but I couldn’t turn myself away back to the frigid cold.

I poured another cup of tea and set it beside them. They eagerly took a sip and burned their tongue.

“So…” I said, trying to start the conversation. “Evil?”

“Ah, yes.” They put their cup down on the table without using a coaster. “Great evil. Not your everyday run-of-the-mill kind.”

“What do you mean, like - like Hitler?”

“The painter?” They scratched their chin and looked up and to the right. “Oh, no, hold on…” They pulled out a device that looked like a modern-day Blackberry and scrolled through some text. “This is universe 52, is it not?”

“I don’t know, to tell you the truth.”

“Oh, wait, sorry, I was looking at the wrong document. Is your Hitler a musician… or an architect or something?” Their face froze up when they got to the part they were looking for. “Uh… no, to answer your question, no - not like Hitler.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“Yeah, no, sorry to scare you like that. I just meant, like… world domination type stuff, you know?”

“That was Hitler’s whole thing too.”

“No, I mean, yes, but the genocide thing… we don’t do that.”

“Oh good.” I tapped my fingers on the arm of my chair. I never knew I was so awkward. “What did your Hitler do?”

“Other than painting? Massive tax fraud. And there were some… allegations too, but there’s still some debate on that.”

“Did you guys still have the holocaust?”

“Well, yeah, of course, Hitler wasn’t the only person capable of fascism.”

“What about 9/11?”

“Forget about that, it isn’t important. We’re really off track here.”

“Okay,” I put my hands up. “Sorry I asked.”

“Right, where was I?” They fiddled with the trackball on the side of their device until finding some sort of notes page. “Right. You are capable of great evil… yadda yadda yadda… in universe 51 - your neighbor universe - you stole nuclear warheads and held the entire Earth population ransom for one billion dollars.”

“Like Dr. Evil.”

“What?”

“From Austin Powers.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Nevermind.”

“Anyway, in the process, you murdered thousands and caused countless more minor injuries.”

“That sounds like genocide.”

“It wasn’t racially motivated.”

“How does that make it any better?”

“Shut up.” They pinched the bridge of their nose and sighed. “Maybe you aren’t villain material.”

“No, no, wait, I can do this. I really need a job.”

“Fine, fine, here.” They handed me an aptitude test. “Go take this exam in the corner. No cheating.”

It wasn’t an easy test, and it took me about fifty minutes to complete, but it for sure could have been worse. I bombed my SATs back in high school. I turned the exam back into my alternate self. They put on reading glasses and took out a red pen to start grading.

At first, they seemed pleasantly surprised, but as they turned pages, their expression soured and the red pen was used more and more often.

“This is unfortunate.” They said.

“What was my score?”

“Ninety-seven.”

“That sounds great!”

“Ninety-seven per-bi-cent. That’s out of two-hundred. This was a true or false test. You did slightly worse than guessing.”

“Damn.”

“And what’s worse, the inter-dimensional police consider you an accomplice to the you who stole the nukes.”

“Why?”

“You were nearby and you didn’t say anything.”

“But I didn’t even know until you just told me!”

“You’ll have to tell that to the judge, I’m afraid.”

I slumped in my chair. “This has been an absolutely awful day.”

So anyway, yeah, that’s why I didn’t make it to the unemployment office yesterday. It was a job interview, and I’m telling you, I would have taken the job if it was offered. Denied? Shoot. Here’s hoping the inter-dimensional police serve decent prison food.

[ladylooch]

Since David is Connor’s teammate, how/when does he officially meet Mack

AN: This was in the Queue for DAYZZZZ. bless my heart this was supposed to be out last week. My b!

Mack and David first meet when he is 26 and she is 22.

She comes over to NY right after graduation for a job interview in the US with Travel + Leisure as a full-time travel blogger. She had her own travel blog throughout college and impressed the interview panel with her content. So, she got her dream job right out of school. Mack moved to NY that summer. She stayed in Connor and Lucie’s apartment over the off-season while they split time between Massachusetts and Switzerland.

David lives in the same building as the Wood's. He had come back early that summer, knocking on the door to ask for some milk.

"Hi?" Mack had asked, peeking one eye out at him. He had been shirtless, shorts hanging low on his hips as he smiled charmingly at her.

"Mack?"

"Who are you?" She scrunches her nose at him.

"I'm Connor's teammate, David." Yeah, she figured. Everything about this guy screams hockey.

"He's not here."

"Yeah." He smiles larger, rubbing at his thick mustache with the pad of his thumb. "He said you might be willing to lend me some milk? I got in late last night and am trying to make some oatmeal before I go on a run." Mack looks him up and down, deciding he seems relatively harmless despite his sculpted body. She opens the door farther.

"I only have almond milk."

"That's cool. Anything is better than water." She waves him in.

David strolls to the fridge like he's familiar with the walk. He looks in, finding the almond milk after a few moments. He stands there, looking over the contents of the fridge. He has never seen so much chick food in his life. Not a single beer or cold pizza slice in sight.

Meanwhile, Mack goes back to the counter, curling a leg under her as she goes back to editing. David grabs the milk, then shuts the door, standing on the other side of the island, staring at Mack. She ignores him, continuing to sift through her layers in photoshop to grab the right boost for the turquoise blue water she just left behind in Hawaii.

Eventually, the silence and his insistent, green-eyed stare become awkward. Mack connects their eyes, then deliberately works her gaze down to the milk in his hand.

"You good?" She asks. "Cause I'm kind of working." She twirls her finger. "Some of us aren't millionaires." He nods, then shrugs his big shoulders.

"Where do you work?"

"At a magazine." She clicks a few times on her computer, then looks at the settings. David walks around the island, curiously looking over her shoulder.

"Wow, do you mind?" She asks, grabbing the screen of her laptop and pulling it down. The picture is not ready for any type of public consumption.

"Did you take that picture?"

"Yes."

"Pretty good. Although whatever you're doing to it makes it look fake." An iterated scowl glosses over Mack's face.

"Thanks for the unsolicited feedback. I'll make sure to critique your game after one shift." David chuckles.

"I didn't mean to offend you. Just being honest."

"Yeah, I'm sure. You hockey boys never do."

"Well, I'm half hockey boy, half farmer."

"Oh! Even better! That explains everything." She smirks, thinking about how small and closed-minded his world view must be.

"Wow, beautiful but snotty and judgmental. No one told you to leave that better than thou attitude in Switzerland?" Mack scoffs, rolling her eyes. He was the one who interrupted her morning.

"Again, I ask: are you good?" She points towards the door. He smiles widely at her, grabbing the carton off the counter.

"Thanks for the hospitality, Miss Hischier." He pretends to tip his hat at her while he works his way back towards the door. "Enjoy manipulating people out of their money with your photoshop."

[a-bombyx-mori]

poking around on spotify earlier and saw that ghost hit 1 mil monthly listeners,,, holy shit!! and their work has been a constant in my life for about 7 years now holy fuck.

gets me thinking about their impact and stuff. still have mixed emotions about everything because they sure did get good and bad attention while they were online. it's gotta be satisfying to see so many people enjoy your art and music and for them to even pay for it. then there's all the problems that come with any fanbase or online presence in general. and I've been here a while so here's just a few things that stand out to me about. everything? things I've thought about a bit?

(this became a long reflection ramble thing whoops.)

I've never really had other songs or writing at all describe the weird mental shit I've been through. yep, it's probably dumb, but ghost and pals songs helped me identity my problems. they became a source of catharsis when I was in fucking middle school and still are to this day. hell, evolve was the first thing that got me thinking I had been in a horrible relationship (along with twisted love ofc). aoapp was a reflection of my anxious attachment for a long time. I wouldn't have been able to make personal progress the past few years without analyzing songs too much.

and don't get me started on their drawings,, their artstyle has always been so charming in its own way. for a long time I tried to emulate their techniques so I could be an artist too. AND THEIR PV EDITING?? mgnghfh full course meal. I still set stills as backgrounds every so often. the fucking colorbars picture was my email background for years until google decided to stop loading it sometime last year.

I still admire them so much.

but there's also things they did that feel off. like I'll never get over how the new chattering was supposed to be a joke. you can't go and make a polished banger showing off your improvement and then say "yeah lol I only did this cause my friend joked about doing it so I said bet." or smth along those lines. (ghost said they remade it cause creep-p joked about it. in a tweet I think? gotta find it.) at that point, it also becomes a slight against your fans. you can't act like everything you make is (essentially) worthless without unintentionally shaming those who enjoy it. it's like that one mirror reflection picture thing.

the whole deletion of specific songs/most of their old discography is also it's own complex beast. ideally, an artist should be in control of when their art is displayed, but you give up that agency when using the internet. hell, there's mirrors of my old Instagram pages, and I'm nowhere near ghost's notoriety. thats the nature of the internet. shit is saved and copied and reuploaded all the time. the only way you can prevent that is by not uploading it at all or going through copyright law/terms of use/etc.

when I first started listening to ghost, they had their old work in an unlisted playlist. cool. then another channel I believe? then later on there was no official way of getting them so ofc people reuploaded them. was that the best thing to do? nope. but people enjoy their old songs and wanted access to them. and not everyone has a local back-up of music cause they're afraid it'll become inaccessible lost media.

them deleting most of their music vids is similar. this happened around like 2018ish? people started reuploading their current songs because. guess what. they weren't officially avaliable. people were thanking translators and such who had the pvs on their channel because they had access to it again. I believe something like this happened a second time but I don't remember for sure.

THIS DOESN'T EXCUSE ANY OF THE PATREON LEAKS BTW. those were paywalled benefits so that's a fundamental breach of privacy (and site rules, I'm p sure).

also less serious thing but they set up a premiere at the end of 2019 for a new song or whatever and it turned out to be a fucking joke too. just like a dr phil picture or smth. only upset at that cause back then I'd get the biggest fucking adrenaline rush whenever they were about to release something. then again I was also depressed as hell so that's an old me problem imo.

there's probably other drama or whatever I'm completely forgetting about, but probably for the better. in the end it's all about the art we're here for in the first place, and the artist behind it. I hope they're doing well after detaching from social media.

uh. long essay thing over now. I think

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

AITA for taking my younger sister out of a toxic home environment?

[Conficcare magically gets reddit for shits and giggles, written with brainfog & having never spent much time on reddit so mmv]

I [m30] have been getting into arguments with my sister [f21] recently, about my choice to once i moved out of the house at 18, getting her to spend at first the time between school and sleep in my flat, and eventually having her stay the night more and more.

She says this caused a breakdown in her relationship with our mother and half siblings, and made her weird to other kids because she was being practically raised by her older brother. Our older sister [f39] agrees with her, saying I took her away from the family and my issues with our mother shouldn't have affected our younger sister.

Part of the reason our older sister didn't like it is because I didn't live alone, I was sharing with my boyfriend at the time, best friend and my best friend's little brother. While I agree a cramped flat with a bunch of 18 year olds isn't the best place for a 9 year old kid to spend time, my older sister, mother, and two youngest siblings were also sharing a similarly tiny flat. My sister was left with the bulk of the child care, and I became the ‘man of the family’ when my two older brothers both left for better jobs up north and cut contact. I thought that taking one of our siblings would give less work to our older sister and because we were splitting rent, it didn't reduce by much the money I sent to them.

My other reasoning was that my mother is verbally and emotionally abusive to me as i failed to live up to her idea of what a man should be- which is why i needed to get the fuck out. Her vitriol was mostly aimed at me so my siblings don't understand, and I made sure my younger sister never got the chance to. Sure it wasn't the best plan but I was 18 and desperate to spare my younger sister from the hell I went through. I would apologize to appease her but she would know i was lying and it would make our relationship worse, i cant get her to understand I thought i was doing the right thing and it was better for her.

So reddit, AITA? 

EDIT: My best friend was also raising his younger brother in a similar situation, except their mother had recently died, which is why me and my boyfriend at the time moved in with them. I had half lived there anyway and my boyfriend is very close friends with my best friend. I trust all of them around my sister, my best friend stepping up and helping out massively with looking after my sister and i had communicated very clearly that if she ever feels uncomfortable to go to me and tell me everything, and that she's my no.1 priority over anyone else

EDIT2: Some of you have trawled through my past posts and noticed I mentioned a younger brother in a similar situation. Yeah my little sister is trans, its why i needed to get her the fuck out of our house and away from our mum. I didn't know she was trans at the time but I recognized that like me [a gay physically weak man] she started to fail to live up to the masculine ideal and that our mother was starting to notice, so that's why when I moved out I did everything to stop them spending time together regularly. I don't care that she hates me, i just wanted her to have a happier childhood and not have to deal with her loving mother turn into a raging homophobe and transphobe

EDIT3: I'm a nurse, simple as that. Just because im italian doesnt make me a fucking mobster and sure my at the time boyfriend has since served jail time, but that was for self defence and we are not even together anymore. Sure we have kept in touch because its a tight knit community but a photo together doesn't mean i'm working for the mafia even if he makes shit life decisions- and my best friend died shortly after, caught in the crossfire of a hit gone wrong, so suggesting my dead best friend is a crime boss is insulting to say the least.

EDIT4: In not sure why the mods are letting a convicted terrorist post on reddit but @/cherryb💣mb stop wasting your time arguing with a random guy from your hometown. Track down my sister to show her this post and i'll do the alphabet spaghetti cans worth of agencies on your ass a favor and take you out

[elvenbeard]

2067

"My childhood, let’s see… Nights spent lookin’ for a star - any star… All dimmed by city lights. Silent lullabies sung by the flickering neon signs of Charter Hill…"

Born into Night City's corporate world to upper middle class managers Marcella and Kousuke Ezaki, Vince lived a very comfortable and sheltered life growing up. Nice corporate apartment in Charter Hill's bustling Grant Avenue, excellent education, always the newest clothes, the fanciest tech, the best cyberware money can buy from a young age on.

It was almost too comfortable and sheltered really. With what they had invested in him and his future, his parents demanded perfection and performance - and obedience. While Vince was eager to deliver at first, being naturally ambitious, it always felt like something was wrong, something was missing... He just never quite fit in, despite trying his hardest.

Vince's father died when he was 13 - by suicide in the company bathroom, or so it seemed at the time. The pressure had gotten too much for him to bear and he saw no other way out; that had been the official explanation. The supposed truth though, which Vince would uncover many years later, was more complex and even darker than that.

On top of it, Vince's parents had never led the happiest marriage, worn down by stress and growing disagreements. It started over smaller issues: which car to buy, when to go on holiday, which school was best for their child. But soon they fought daily, constantly, about everything... And Vince fled into the arms of kids his age and older that never had the best intentions with him, but lured him in with a sense of belonging somewhere finally.

After his father's death, Vince's mother grew increasingly paranoid and controlling - her focus shifted from her husband to her child, whom she did not want to lose as well. Simultaneously though, she refused to accept that Vince had become his own person and would never be who and what she'd wanted him to be. The harder she tried to hold on to him, do her bidding, obey, the further she ended up pushing him away...

Vince through the years (1/9)

Little BTS rambles below the cut here!

Remember these? XD Yeah, I'm finally getting around to doing my "Vince through the years" project I teased a couple months ago. I finally decided on a format! xD I wanted something diary-entry like, but not too long and complex, otherwise I could probably sink months into this, do some cool lorebook-like graphics and whatnot...

I might still do that in the future, revamp some shots, or maybe one day make a character page or something in a more complex graphic style... but for now I just really wanna share some lore actually 👀 And get these shots published before they go bad!! (read as: before I don't like them anymore cause I'm getting better with my VP XD)

Also, a little comparison - vanilla vs edited shot:

Aging him down around 10 years was hard, but also fun XD I did this a while ago and meanwhile I might do some stuff different, but I'll leave them as is now xD But yeah, I tried some other complexions first that look younger than his 2077 one, but they made him look like a completely different person, so I went with the Photoshopping approach instead. Does he look like a pre-T teenager? Eh. If you squint XD But I'll take it!

Back then he already loved his massive coats that made him look bigger and wider than he really is. Hair dyed blond mostly because both his parents have dark hair, for that good old teenage rebelliousness and self-expression <3

I kinda implied it in the text but... yeah his parents were both pretty messed up. They did see him more like an investment than a kid most of the time. It was in the end damaging to all three of them, but most to Vince, leading to him becoming a little fucked up as well.

And when I say "investment" I literally mean, they invested money into making him as flawless as possible. Got him cyberoptics and whatnot installed as a 5-year-old to combat genetic eye-problems running in their families (when glasses couldve done the trick), things like that. His mother had planned some more things for as soon as he would finish school, but he ran away from home before that.

Before that already he went on to destroy all these perfect things they tried to achive with his body, got stick-and-poke tattoos, pierced his own ear, found a semi-shady Ripper who would install him a cyberdeck *he* wanted, not the one his mother got him, etc etc. XD

He spent a lot of time with the wrong pepole, too, but the connection to them at least helped him realize that he's trans - obviously one more thing that his mother did not plan for with her "perfect child" and tries to first ignore then actively shut down as best as she can. This is a hate-post for Vince's mom <3

What really happened to his dad is gonna follow in a post to come ooooor maybe I'll leave it a secret until I finished writing his background story fic 👀