#Kind of. Like we were sitting in the art room and he asked everyone except me him and our mutual best friend to leave

[mncxbe]

Sfw 8 + NSFW 12 + 17 with Denji

My babygirl deserves some love <3

the way i ate this up😳 the brainrot is brainrotting. collegeAU with Denji cuz I like to believe he'd be as much of a loser then♡ gaah i love him so much. also y/n is rich rich👀 for extra silly and damn this turned out way longer than i anticipated.

8– accidentally walking in on them while they're changing

12– catching them stealing your panties

17– they worship your body

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: alcohol cunsumption (reader is tipsy), cunnilingus, Denji being a perv, implied virginity loss, subby Denji

For your 19th birthday you decided to host the greatest party of the year and everyone in your grade was invited.

The penthouse your parents allowed you to live in during college was nicely decorated– black and white balloons and drizzle, flashy lights and speakers that started blaring loud music as soon as the sun set. Everyone was having a blast, downing glasses of neon colored punch and cheap beer, dancing and chatting in groups. Well, everyone except you. You were painfully bored.

When you threw the party of the year you didn't expect everyone to forget the purpose of the whole fucking event– celebrating your birthday.

You've been sitting all by yourself on the couch for the past half hour, sipping on a plastic cup of cocktail. Your gaze mused on the livingroom of your apartment, trying to find someone interesting to talk to. The only people who approached you were some guys from Arts who tried to chat you up, but they rambled on about some uninteresting exhibitions and you soon got bored and shunned them.

As you got up to refill your glass, you noticed someone slipping inside your bedroom. The fuck.. you thought, pushing past drunk people on your way towards your room. You swung the door open and saw a blond guy about your age standing in front of your dresser. When he heard you barge in he immediately slammed the drawer shut, his head snapping in your direction.

It was Denji. Just Denji.

Though you briefly interacted with the Denji, you knew him from highschool. He was the guy who used to let other students use him as a chair during breaks for some spare change. You remembered working on some group projects with him back then but you seldom saw him around campus now. He mostly kept to himself, so you were surprised too see him at your party in the first place— not to mention you certainly didn't expect to catch him going through your lingerie drawer. Still, maybe this wasn't such a bad thing...

"Well, well what do we have here?" you chuckled, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed.

"Y/N hi" he said nervously, tugging at the collar of his shirt "I was just um... looking for a place to change. Someone spilled some punch on my clothes"

You noticed the stain on his shirt and smiled, closing the door behind you. "And you thought you'd find a clean tshirt somewhere next to my panties?"

A blush crept on his face as he looked down at his shoes. "No, I mean I was just looking..." he fumbled "It's not like I was snooping around on purpose, i'm not that kind of guy" His voice was weak, half hearted as he looked around the room. At anything but you.

Swaying your hips, you closed the distance between you "So you're not some perv who's trying to steal my panties?" you asked and he shook his head. "N-no I'd never–"

"The show me your pockets"

Denji's face grew livid when he heard your command and you knew you had him. He was caught red handed and there wasn't much he could do about it. If he admitted maybe you'd at least allow him to stay at the party for a bit longer The boy couldn't bear to look you in the eyes as he reached a hand to the back pocket of his jeans and procured a pair of your lacy panties.

"Here, take them, but just know it's not what you think." It was cute that he still tried to find excuses for his actions and you blamed the alcohol for the heat pooling in your lower abdomen. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, you gazed up at him with droopy eyes.

All the while, Denji was getting more and more nervous. His palms were sweaty, heart hammering in his chest as he peered at you. God, you were so damn beautiful– Though he didn't admit it, Denji had a crush on you from the first moment he saw you. You were the pretties girl in school, which meant you were way out of his league. A goddess like you would never spare a moment of her time on someone like him, right? Well, his conviction was starting to crumble now that he saw the way you eyed him down with that taunting glint in your eyes.

"Ya know, Denji, I don't recall you giving me a gift or wishing me happy birthday. It's awfully rude of you." you slurred, tapping the floor with the tip of your heels.

His sorry excuses were half drowned by the blaring music in the other room. Your head was starting to get foggy from the alcohol, limbs growing heavier, as if an invisible weight was pulling you down against mattress. "Jee... quit the whining" you giggled, waving a dismissive hand in his direction "I'm not mad at you. However, I do think you need to make up for it."

"Y/N, I told you I'm in a tight spot with money this month, but I'll buy you something nice once I get my paycheck."

"I'm not talking about that" you deadpanned, a sly smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Your gaze drifted down towards his belt and then back up to his face, taking in his frame. You couldn't deny he wasn't bad looking. Out of all the guys at the party, he seemed the best option for a casual hookup– not to mention he was already interested in you, so why not give it a try? With a motion of your finger, you beckoned him closer, pointing at the floor "Get on your knees."

Denji swallowed the lump in his throat and gathered the courage to step away from your dresser. With hesitant steps he covered the distance between the two of you and kneeled before you, his hands folded in his lap. His fists clenched and unclenched as he anxiously waited for your instructions.

To be frank, you never expected him to obey so you were quite taken aback by his attitude.

"You still let people order you around, Denji? How cute" you cooed, hooking your right leg over his shoulder and pulling him closer to the edge of the bed.

The blond tried his best not to peek under your skirt, his face turning red from embarrassment. He's never been so close to a girl before, let alone someone as beautiful as you and he was nervous. As if reading his mind you let out a low chuckle, hiking up your skirt.

"Come on, Denji, take off my panties. If you make me feel good I'll let you keep them."

By this point Denji was too far gone. Your silken voice put him under a spell and he eagerly pulled down your lingerie. A small moan slipped past his lips when he saw the string of arousal connecting your pussy to the silky fabric, his features melting into a pleading expression. He looked so needy, gazing at your bare cunt with those puppy eyes, his hands shaking lightly as he fully removed your panties and let them fall in his lap.

"There you go, Denji. Get a good look of it." you encouraged, running your fingers through his tangled hair to ease him into the new situation. You could tell it was his first time seeing a woman naked and didn't want to scare him off. So you took things slowly, waiting for him to get comfortable. Little did you know there was no need for that.

Denji was basically drooling over your pussy. He rested his head against your thigh, leaning into your touch as he spread your puffy folds with his thumb. His breath stuck in his throat when he noticed just how wet you were and it was all because of him. With shaky fingers, he collected the slick from your hole and spread it nicely along your clit, making you flinch.

"There?" he asked in a barely audible voice but you heard him nevertheless. "Y-yea, right there."

He slowly drew circles on your bud, making you writhe on the mattress and you spread your legs wider, shamelessly grinding on his hand. Sloppy movements over your clit had increased in intensity and you could feel the knot in your abdomen tighten with each swipe of his digits.

"Go on, baby, give it a taste" you said in a hushed voice and he immediately obliged. Hooking your other leg over his shoulder, Denji's hands gently massaged your thighs. He kissed his way up to your core, wet lips tracing the inside of your thighs, teeth nipping at your skin but not enough to leave marks.

He licked a stripe of your cunt from your hole to your clit, relishing the taste of your arousal. You were basically melting on his tongue and he was adamant to please you. As the grip on your thighs tightened, Denji collected some spit in his mouth and let the blob slide down your slit. He started eating you out slow, savouring the heat on his tongue but he soon increased the pace. It was clear that he had little idea of what he was doing– he was sloppy, messy, a mixture of slick and spit coating his chin as he lapped at your juices and you swore you got ten times wetter just by hearing him moan into your cunt.

His tongue flicked your clit so eagerly, lips wrapping around your bud, giving it an experimental suck. Your hips jolted up in pleasure but Denji quickly pulled you back on his face.

"Is it good?" he mumbled, pussy drunk eyes briefly meeting your as you nodded.

"Y-yea. You're so good Denji, gonna make me cum soon."

He mewled at your praise, his ministrations growing in intensity as heat pooled in your core. You were so close, choked moans spilling from your lips as your vision blurred. Denji made you feel so good you were starting to regret not paying more attention to him all those years back. He ate you out like it was his lifeline, hugging your thighs closer to his face to keep you from squirming too much. When you came you came hard, nails grazing his scalp as you pulled him closer to your cunt, grinding down on his face to ride out your high.

"Denji fuck—" you whined, arching your back off the mattress and he gently massaged the fat of your thighs and hips, his hands seeking your body you.

"I got you, just cum for me ok? Please feel good" he said softly, kissing your pussy and the inner side of your thighs before working his way up to your belly. He didn't dare go past the line of your dress, though all he wanted was to keep touching and kissing, to soak you up in all the love and affection he harbored for you during all these years.

When you looked down at him with those droopy, drunk-dazed eyes his heart sank, a soft smile etching onto his features.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a small voice as you pushed yourself up to sitting and held his face in your hands, leaning towards him. Denji's eyes rolled back into his skull as you kissed him, his lashes fluttering shut. You could taste yourself on his tongue along with the sweet punch he drank earlier that night. The kiss was heated and you pulled him on top of you, tugging at the wristband on his jeans.

"H-hey wait a minute I've never done this before" he tensed up but you shushed him with another needy kiss.

"Shit, I don't care if you're a virgin Denji I just need you so bad right now. Please" you huffed out and he felt his dick getting impossibly harder. He could almost cum in his pants at the sight of your pleading expression.

"Okay..." he whispered, hesitantly unbuckling his belt and you could tell he was nervous again. With sloppy movements he managed to allign himself to your entrance, shuffling around to make sure everything was alright, but just as he was about to push himself inside he perked up, patting your thigh. "Oh, Y/N I almost forgot."

"What?" you whined, grinding your needy pussy on his length. Why can't he just fuck you already?

The blond looked down at you with a lovesick smile, his eyes sparkling with adoration "I think I still haven't wished you happy birthday"

[applejuicefruit]

can u please write erling or jude, you pick i don’t mind, where reader gets like harassed by his fans online, like mean comments or mean twitters and reader never tells him and he finds out by himself and he’s a bit disappointed but he comforts reader and tells her how much he loves her please?

i picked jude for this one!

jude bellingham x reader

tw: mean comments, mention of hate, overall a lot of fluff

Haters gonna hate

The moment after the world cup, Jude’s fame became bigger and bigger. Not that he wasn’t already famous, he was, but - playing in front of millions of people got him a new wave of popularity he never excepted, and you couldn’t be happier for him, he was achieving everything he wished for. But you got dragged into this popularity thing too. You and Jude had been dating for over a year now, it wasn’t knew for his old fans as they always supported your relationship and made fanpages for the two of you. But, apparently, his new fans weren’t as thrilled as everyone was.

Of course, you weren’t to lie. Jude was pretty handsome, and for being so young a lot of girlies expected him to be single so they all went mad when they found out they were dating someone, you. You, who weren’t famous or a model or a celebrity, you were completely normal. Finishing your studies, being appassionate of arts and music. That’s what made them hate you the most - the fact that by just looking at you, they knew you weren’t anything special, just a girl like them and the fact that you were dating of the most popular football player at the moment.

So, instead of being happy for Jude they started hating you.

It first happened when you posted a picture for Christmas Day. It was a simple picture of you, Jude and your huge christmas tree in the background and what you didn’t expect was to see your comments section filled with hate.

The second time it happened it was when you posted a picture of the eternal city, Rome, when you were visiting it with your family. A lot of people said you were in Italy because you were cheating on Jude and how he didn’t deserve you, how he deserved someone better.

And so went on. Everytime you posted a picture you would see your comments section filled with hate, and honestly - you weren’t used to it.

“I can’t believe Jude is dating her” someone said.

“She’s so ugly, Jude could have everyone he wanted, why her?” another one said.

“Someone saves Jude from her, he clearly doesn’t love her!!” someone else said.

And those comments were the nicest. A lot of people commented on your appearance, how you weren’t made to date a football player for how simple you were. They commented on your looks, on your weight, on your style. Basically everything you posted about.

You got tired of it and decided to block all of those people and put your instagram in private mode.

So the hate started on Twitter.

“She really blocked me! That bitch…I can’t believe Jude is dating someone like her!” someone commented on twitter.

“Her royalty got her instagram in private mode so we can’t judge her…she might think she’s special lol” another girl said.

But what was worse is that it wasn’t you who who saw the comments - no - it was Jude. He was casually scrolling through his phone when his eyes landed on his name being the first thing to appear on Twitter.

Of course he was curious so he simply clicked on it.

He wasn’t really pleased with what he was reading. He immediately went into your insta to check if the comments were real and it broke his heart reading all of those mean comments about you.

He couldn’t believe someone would say something so mean to you, the most beautiful and kind person he ever met in his life.

He wanted to confront you about it.

“Babe…” he called you from the living room, knowing you were in the kitchen making some tea.

“Yes Jude?” you shouted from the door.

“Can you come here for a sec please?” he asked so you grabbed your hot tea and went straight into the living room, sitting on the couch next to him.

“Is everything okay?” you asked him.

“You tell me…” he looked at you a little worried and you probably already knew that he was referring to.

“Yes…everything’s good” you said not looking at him.

“Darling please…I saw the comments…I saw how you put your in instagram private, baby…why didn’t you tell me?” he softly asked you, not wanting to upset you.

“Because I didn’t want to bring you up in this! You don’t need any more dramas added to your life Jude and by the way I truly don’t care about those comments…” you lied and he could tell.

“My love, I know you’re hurting…but I want you to know that none of what you read is true okay? I need you to know that I’m so in love with you…” he scooped you into his arms “ you’re the most important person in my life, you’re the one I love and the one I want to spend the the rest of my life with…I love you…” he said smiling at you as you were fully crying now.

“I don’t deserve you Jude…” you said, your glossy eyes meeting his eyes.

“I don’t deserve you y/n…you’re too kind and special” he looked at you with lovey eyes “I don’t know how I got so lucky to have met someone like you, to have you in my life…you’re too kind for this world baby” he kissed your cheek as he gently wiped away your tears.

“I love you Jude…” you whispered laying your head on his chest.

“I love you more” he whispered and you smiled.

That night you finished drinking your tea as you both started watching some comedy show on a random channel.

Before going to bed Jude posted a picture of the two of you and decided to write some words for you.

“This person next to me is the kindest, funniest and brightest person in the world and I truly cannot believe how some “fans” mistreated her in the first place. I’ve read comments in the last days that made me shiver, how can someone be so cruel to a person you don’t even know? Is it jealousy? I truly don’t care what are your reasons but I want you all to stop immediately directing your hate to my girlfriend just because we’re dating. There’s clearly a reason if I’m dating her and not you btw…She doesn’t deserve all this hate and I want you all to stop please…you don’t know how your words can hurt someone, sometimes words hurt more than a punch, stop talking bad about y/n and go on with your lives, thank you!”

You were in bed smiling reading what Jude wrote about you.

“Thank you” you whispered to him as you laid on his chest.

He kissed your forehead “anything for you baby…I would do anything for you” he held you closer and stroked your hair gently, helping you falling asleep.

[tooti-fruiti]

Since some people liked my last Wally Darling fanfic

I've decided to write another one

WALLY DARLING X GN! READER

It was Julie's birthday and she wanted to throw a dance party to celebrate it

Everyone attended, including you

Except, you sat by yourself on the sidelines

You didn't know how to dance, and you didn't want to make a fool of yourself

Especially since Wally's here too

You adored Wally and obviously didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of him

Everyone's dancing and having a good time while you sit in the corner trying to not feel bad for yourself

That was until Wally himself walked up to you

"Come on, my friend. Give me your hand." He said, offering you his hand

You ask him what he's doing and he smiles

"I'm walking you back to your house."

As he ushers you out of the party, you keep asking him why he's leaving and that you'll be okay by yourself

"It's okay (Y/n)!" He says

"We already gave Julie our gifts, and she understands that you weren't having fun. And besides, we can hang out with her another day."

You ask him why he decided to leave

"I can't have you walking all by yourself in dark, now can I?"

Your face turned a little red and you two walked together in silence

"(Y/n)?" Wally asked

"Why were you sitting by yourself? You could have joined us."

After deciding to be honest with him, you tell him it's because you don't know how to dance

Wally starts to laugh his awkward monotone laugh

Why was he laughing?

You looked away and he realized he had accidentally offended you

"Oh I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude. I was laughing because I could have taught you how to dance."

You turn to face him again and he smiles.

"This way." He says taking your hand

Wally starts to lead you away from your house and you ask him where you two are going

"We're going to teach you how to dance!"

He leads you to Home and gently knocks on the door

You try to explain to him that he doesn't have to do this

"Of course I do! What kind of friend would I be if I didn't help you out? What if Julie wants another dance party for her birthday?"

Home's eyes fluttered open and smoke blew out of their chimney.

"Good evening Home. I'm sorry to wake you up. May we come in please?"

More smoke blew out of the chimney

"Yes. We. I brought (Y/n) with me."

After a little bit of silence, Home opened the door and Wally led you inside.

"Thank you, Home."

You always found it a little bit endearing how Wally talked to his house, it was cute.

In a weird way

"This way my friend." Wally said as he led you to his art studio.

"Wait right here."

He moved his easel to a corner in the room and led you to the center

"Home?" Wally called out

He got a small creak in response

"Can you play a slow song for me? Please?"

You heard a low and long creak from a floorboard, as if Home was annoyed in someway

"Thank you." Wally smiled then turned back to you

"Follow my lead, we'll take things slow." He said as he put his hand on your waist and held your other hand in his own

"Put your free hand on my shoulder."

You did as you were told and a slow classical song began to play throughout the room

"Step to the left, step forward, step to the right, step back, and repeat!"

After stepping on his shoes for the first few times, you eventually got the hang of it and spun around the art room as Wally held you in his arms

After dancing for you a few minutes, you told him this wasn't the kind of dancing that Julie was doing at her party

"I know." He said with a wink

Your face turned a bright red again

Wally smiled and held onto your waist tighter before slowly dipping you as the song ended

You felt as if you were going to melt into a puddle

"See how much fun dancing can be?"

You nodded, still too flustered to say anything

Wally stood up straight and let go of your waist

"Looks like Home fell asleep again." He whispered. "That means it's time for us to go to bed too."

You asked him what he meant by "us"

"You're spending the night of course!" He whisper yelled

You knew at this point that you couldn't win against him so you just accepted it

"So, I'll show you my bed and I'll sleep on the couch."

You quickly stopped him and reassured him that you could both sleep in the bed

"Well, if it's alright with you. Then it's alright with me."

Wally gave you a robe of his that you could sleep in when he went to the bathroom to change into his pajamas

The robe smelled like green apple

After you and Wally laid down in bed, you turned away from him as an attempt to not make things more awkward than they already were

That was until you felt him grab your hand

"Turn to me." He whispered

You did and saw him smiling at you. "Did you have fun?"

You nodded and smiled back at him

"I had fun too. I really enjoy your company."

Wally pulled you into his chest for a hug and held you there. "If you know what I mean."

You hugged him back and told him you understood, your face turning red

You heard him laugh a little before he gave you a kiss on top of your head.

"Goodnight my dear."

This was stupidly long

But I enjoyed writing it

[awkward-walking-potato]

Hiiii! Happy spooky season. I have a request for wade Wilson with choosing couples costumes!!!!! 👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃 I'd love to see what u come up with!!

The Spirit of Wade

You sat at your desk, buried beneath a mountain of work. Papers, emails, spreadsheets—all of it had piled up over the last few weeks, and it felt like you were drowning. On top of that, Blind Al’s Halloween party was just around the corner, and you didn’t even have the time to think about costumes.

Your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a text from Wade.

Wadeykins:Babycakes, what’re we wearin’ to Al’s spooky bash?

You groaned, rubbing your temples. The last thing you had time for was a costume shopping spree.

You:I’m swamped with work, Wade. Can you go to Spirit Halloween and grab us something? I trust you.

The moment you hit send, you instantly regretted it. Trusting Wade with anything remotely important usually ended in chaos. But before you could follow up with any kind of instruction, a new text popped up.

Wadeykins:OMW to Spirit. Gonna make us the hottest couple at that party, babe.

You stared at the message for a long moment, then let out a resigned sigh. There was no going back now. Wade was on a mission, and you had work to finish. You figured you'd cross the "what did Wade do?" bridge when you got home.

By the time you got back to your apartment later that evening, your body was exhausted, and your brain felt like it had turned into mush from the day’s grind. All you wanted to do was change into something comfortable and forget about everything for a while. But the moment you opened the door, your heart sank as you were greeted by a sight that was equal parts adorable and terrifying.

Spread out across the living room floor were not one, not two, but ten matching couple costumes. Wade was in the center of it all, beaming like a proud toddler who’d just shown his parents his first macaroni art masterpiece.

“Welcome home, pumpkin muffin!” Wade greeted, jumping up from where he’d been sitting. His eyes twinkled mischievously beneath his mask. “I know you’re busy and all, so I took the liberty of providing options.”

You blinked, staring at the sea of costumes that now dominated your living room. “Wade… what… what is this?”

He clapped his hands together, rubbing them like a mad scientist about to unveil his latest invention. “Okay, okay, so check it out. Blind Al’s party is a big deal, right? We gotta be the it couple there. So I went ahead and got us ten different matching costumes. I know, I know, I’m basically a relationship genius.”

You were torn between exasperation and amusement, but the exhaustion from work melted away as Wade’s enthusiasm radiated through the room. With a sigh, you dropped your bag by the door and walked over to inspect his selections.

“Alright, what do we have here, then?” you asked, folding your arms.

Wade excitedly began showcasing each option, holding them up like a game show host showing off prizes.

“Couple number one!” Wade started, holding up two banana suits. “Peanut Butter and Banana Sandwich!” He held up a jar of peanut butter with a wide grin. “Get it? You’ll be the sweet banana, and I’ll be the chunky peanut butter. It’s a classic combo, like us! Everyone loves PB and B.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Not bad, but let’s keep going.”

“Couple number two!” Wade swept his arm dramatically toward the next option. A pair of hospital gowns—complete with matching IV drips. “Doctor and Sexy Patient! Except... we’re both patients because it’s sexier that way. Plus, I already have practice wearing hospital gowns, thanks to the whole ‘mutated cancer mess.’”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. “I think I’m gonna veto that one.”

“Fair, fair.” Wade shrugged. “Couple number three!” He held up a pair of inflatable T-rex costumes. “Dinosaur Power Couple! Imagine us stomping into the party in these bad boys. We’ll be unstoppable!”

“That sounds... sweaty.”

“Yeah, but think of the dramatic entrance!”

You chuckled. “Next.”

Wade dramatically threw his hands into the air and skipped to the next set. “Couple number four:Bob Ross and Happy Little Tree!” He waved around a giant paintbrush and an afro wig. “I’ll be Bob, you’ll be my masterpiece! I can paint you with compliments all night.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Sweet, but no.”

Wade was undeterred. He spun toward another option, holding up matching black-and-white striped shirts. “Thieves in Love! We could go around the party, stealing snacks and hearts.”

You laughed. “Okay, that’s pretty cute.”

“Right? But wait, there’s more!” Wade dashed to the next set. “Ketchup and Mustard! Or Salt and Pepper! Or Burger and Fries!” Each matching pair was more ridiculous than the last, and each idea more absurd. You couldn’t stop laughing as Wade enthusiastically presented each costume, making over-the-top sales pitches for all of them.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of couples costumes, Wade stopped in front of the last pair and turned to you with a grin that could only mean trouble.

“For the grand finale,” he said with a flourish, holding up a pair of cheesy superhero costumes that were definitely not part of any known franchise. “Super Wade and Super You! Capes included. We fight crime and bad party snacks.”

You rubbed your face, unable to stop smiling. “Wade… this is insane.”

He stepped closer, his eyes softening beneath the mask. “I know, but I wanted to give you choices. I know you’ve been working hard and you’ve been stressed. Figured I’d take some of the load off by going overboard with options. Plus, it gave me an excuse to flirt with you in a million different ways. Win-win.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Wade. Really.”

He cocked his head, a hint of shyness peeking through his bravado. “So… which one? Or should we go with my favorite?”

“And which one is that?”

Wade’s grin turned mischievous again. “I’m voting for Super Wade and Super You. ‘Cause let’s face it, babe, we’re already super together.”

You shook your head, but your smile never wavered. “Alright, fine. Super Wade and Super You it is.”

Wade let out an excited cheer, pumping his fist in the air before pulling you into a tight embrace. “We’re gonna be the sexiest, crime-fighting couple at that party, babe. Al won’t know what hit her.”

You laughed, leaning into him as he twirled you around. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Impossible or impossibly charming?” Wade teased, dipping you dramatically.

“Maybe a bit of both.”

As you settled into the costume that night, you realized that, once again, Wade had managed to turn what could have been a stressful situation into something fun and ridiculous. And as you both headed out to Blind Al’s Halloween party, arms linked and capes trailing behind, you couldn’t help but think that you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[02511213942]

I love your art style and the way you draw different body types and your username. Hello. Hi, just a fan. Also, do you have any favorite aftg fics?

🥹 THANK YOU!!! you're very kind!! ! i hope to get better at drawing different body types and i like my username too!!

i do have lots of fic recs, but i've been sitting on and incubating this ask for too long so here are just five that have been on my mind again most recently!

til death do us part by @alcego

We follow Neil's professional exy career, including the ups and downs, from beginning to end.

IF IT FEELS LIKE THIS FIC WAS MADE IN A LAB FOR ME IT'S BECAUSE IT WAS!! COMMISSIONED FROM THE BRILLIANT AJ :)) if you loved reading the games in the books u will looove this... sports-heavy outsider pov and media snippets, neil gets a concussion, andreil being odd and cute, kevin day is there. all is well in the world.

Signs of Life by moonix @annawrites

In which Kevin works the graveyard shift, Andrew is the witching hour cryptid, and Neil guards the ice-cream freezer.

if i were andrew i'd make out with neil in aisle ten too... kevin thinking about his breakfast sandwich and andrew needing to touch of the roots of his box blonde hair I LOVE YOUu....

burning with you by @seasy33

The crowd whistles and cheers. People on the dance floor start to pair together, pressing close and swaying. As the song really begins, Neil realizes he knows it and starts humming along, playing idly with the ring on Andrew's finger. Andrew's hand twitches. "You know this song." Neil nods against his shoulder, still humming. "You don't know who Aerosmith is, but you know Shania Twain." Neil shrugs. - Neil and Andrew go to a bar and end up sort-of serenading each other --with country songs. That's it, that's the fic

feral stick figure on all fours dot jpeg. whenever you're still the one or johnny and june come up on my spotify shuffle i think of this fic and my aura acquires a gentle pink glow. i love country music :)

Every Sinner Has A Future by OfficialStarsandGutters

Canon divergent Neil x Aaron. - Neil Josten. A shock of red hair and ocean blue eyes. Pretty faced, but nothing special. Except he makes a throwaway comment about Andrew being off his meds and it’s like everyone in the room forgets to breathe. Even Aaron, his body still and tense with surprise that he can tell them apart. Without even having met Aaron, he knew Andrew wasn’t him. That shouldn’t mean anything. Aaron rubs his sweaty palms on his skinny jeans and tells himself it doesn’t, it doesn’t, it doesn’t.

my fav rare pair and the fic ever for them 🥹 aaron minyard i've really come around to you and i'll even let you take my son out if you have him home by 10.

sunset, like survival by animediac @jaywalkers

The first time Neil dies is devastating. The second time is just as bad. The third time has them wondering if there’s a way out of this loop that doesn’t end with Neil dead. - Night, after night, after night. Baltimore isn't something that just happens once.

kandreil neil death time loop fic you are SO famous to me. on my mind again recently because róisín is very good at being a paramedic and knowing what really happens to the body when you are critically horribly injured, and i asked them what would happen if neil got hypothetically specifically tortured, and they did not let me down.

[willakk]

I’m so excited to share my Ecto-Implosion 2023 (@ecto-implosion)piece! I worked with a fantastic artist, The Spirits Demise, to create this story where Danny gets to go to space (space!).

Here is a link to Spirits' Art! It's so good! Please, please give it love!

Here’s chapter 1 for now!:

They were still  waiting for Daniel Fenton, Louisa “Lewis” Rivera realized with a frustrated sigh. It had been ten minutes of the entire team, minus Daniel, mind you, waiting to start the United Nations livestream in their self claimed Aphrodite I meeting and lounging room. Well, the segment that was important to them would talk all about them and their mission wouldn’t even start for another ten minutes, but that was beside the point. Daniel’s – she refused to call him by his nickname of “Danny”, as their friendship had not reached that level yet – punctuality always caused her to wonder how he was even selected for the team. Okay, that is not entirely true. She knew why: he’s an exceptional team worker, always has high craftsmanship and attention to detail, got along just splendidly with everyone, and, in general, was immensely qualified for the job. It’s just, that it’s hard to have a good image of someone when the first time Lewis met them he was twenty minutes late to the meeting and then  accidentally  broke a thousand dollar machine in front of her eyes. While he did fix it all by himself later, that’s beyond the point she’s trying to make. They’d got off on the wrong foot and now it was hard for her to  not  see all the minuscule flaws with Daniel.

But, aside from all of this, they really needed to start the livestream. It was at that moment Matt Sumner tried to tell her something, but she was so stuck in her thoughts that she missed it.  That’s something that I need to work on before we’re in space. Wouldn’t want that to happen at an inopportune time.  Lewis thought. She looked over to Matt, the multitalented pilot and engineer who was the commander of their team. “Sorry, what did you say?” she asked.

“We are all ready to start the United Nations live stream, so I was just going to ask if you were ready. I know Danny’s not here yet, but he’ll probably get here any moment now, and we don’t want to miss out on anything,”

“I was actually just thinking about that. Go for it.” 

With that, Matt nodded and went back to working at the computer that was hooked up to the screen at the front of the small room, his cleanly cropped brown hair slightly falling in front of his face. Near to Matt was Emit Spellmeyer, who was sitting at their small round table working on some sort of circuit board. Emit wasn’t typically as reserved as they were now, but when they put their mind on a project, it was kind of hard to pull them away from it. Although, Daniel was normally the one most successful with that. Pretty early on they bonded over their commonality of constantly accidentally electrocuting themselves and, therefore, having scars from it. Which, to be honest, worried Lewis. She was trying to work with Emilia, the team’s physician specialist, to create some sort of outline and safety precautions to avoid those accidents; because one of the last things you want is to get electrocuted in the middle of space.

Emilia Brell was talking with Mack Faolán on their large couch they were currently sharing with Lewis. From what she could gather, they were talking about the latest Disney price hike, something they were rather frustrated with since their passion for Disney was only surpassed by their love for space. 

The current chatter across the room was suddenly cut off with the United Nations meeting becoming live on the screen in front of them. It seemed like the meeting was running slightly behind since they were still deep into their previous subject. It was rather novel to the UN and the world in general, but it was still rather pressing: Ghost Zone representation in the United Nations.

When Lewis heard about ghosts for the first time;:, she wouldn’t be lying if she said she laughed. She didn’t believe it at first: it was against all of what science knew to be true and was just outlandish in general. And if she didn’t follow science to the mark, then she didn’t know who did. But then she was proven wrong. It turned out it  could  be explained by science. It just wasn’t explored much, or at all, beforehand. That was about thirteen years ago. Ever since the worldwide acceptance of the existence of ghosts and another plane of reality termed the “Ghost Zone”, it has slowly become the topic of interest in nations worldwide. Which is understandable because it was just like an entire country, and a very large one at that, popped in out of nowhere. 

The last three years is when everything political started ramping up. One could say that this current UN meeting is the culmination of everything that’s been happening for the past few years. Consequently, the entirety of the present Aphrodite I team focused their attention to the screen, including Emit, who even went as far as placing the in progress circuit board to the side. 

The current focus of the meeting was on the Secretary General. When they started the stream, he was just wrapping up a question posed by the assembly: “-can you please elaborate on why having a seat in the United Nations is important? As of, the Ghost Zone is on another plane of existence, so we cannot see why it is beneficial to have a role in these decisions that only impact this plane.”

The camera then changed to point at the opposite side of the room where the exhausted spokesperson (ghost) for the Ghost Zone was. The figure looked slightly blurry as if the camera couldn’t focus on him, yet his appearance was still rather noticeable. He was wearing an impressive get-up including a cape of moving galaxies draped across his shoulders   over black and white formal attire. But what was truly striking was the breathtaking living aurora borealis sitting atop his unnaturally weightless white hair. The camera picked up the lighting around him oddly. His own subtle glow surrounded him, illuminating his blue tinted skin, the black of his attire, and the area around him. “Whoa,” Emit exclaimed, “That’s the Ghost King, Phantom. I can’t believe he’s there instead of a representative.” 

At this point, anyone who knew anything knew who Phantom was. With all the dynamics with the Ghost Zone and the world, he’s been present. If you are any bit aware of the current world news, you are bound to know. And if you don’t know about him that way, then you probably heard about him apprehending rogue ghosts that were occasionally wreaking havoc across the world. That was always a flashy affair, so they were pretty hard to miss; those events often gained popularity with the younger population since they aligned so well with the common fascination of superheroes and magic.

There was an odd dynamic of those in favor of the Ghost Zone and Ghost King and those against the presence, which Lewis was sure stemmed from poorly backed bias and fear of the unknown. Luckily, the entire Aphrodite I team was in favor of the Ghost Zone and were mutually interested in how the whole integration of the two “worlds” would play out. In fact, when Danny spilled the fact that his parents are the world’s leading ecto-scientists, the entire team made him share everything he knew, which was definitely more than they expected.

The sudden subtle sound of an aurora borealis – strikingly reminiscent of birdsong, a crackling campfire, and disjointed morse code - surrounded Phantom’s voice as he started to respond to the question, took Lewis out of her thoughts, “This is not common knowledge, but since it is pertinent, I’ll share.” He paused for a second. The subtle sounds of his aura humming, yet sounding like a speeding car passing infinitely by a house, permeated the silence in the air. “While the Ghost Zone is technically not a part of this plane, the two planes are still fundamentally connected in every way. These planes are parallel. Think of a mirror. A movement on one side will be reflected on another. The Zone acts similarly to the mirror. The major changes of existence and major events have impacts on the core status of the Zone. If the Earth falls plague to global warming, the Zone will have reflecting detrimental effects. So, it only makes sense that we should have a position to help prevent any harm to the world, as they are one in itself.” 

He took a pause, as if waiting for questions before resuming his speech, “So, don’t you see? It’s all connected. In order to have the United Nations successful in its endeavors, the Ghost Zone will need to have a part in it.”

The camera shifted to the Secretary General, who nodded and then took a moment to discuss with his adjacent cabinet members. After a short minute, they came to a conclusion, “Considering the joint effects of this plane and the Ghost Zone’s, we have agreed to allow the Ghost Zone to have a representative in the United Nations’s body. Please be prepared to select a representative that will best represent your “nation” and best contribute to the United Nations’ seventeen points. If nothing else is to be added, we will conclude this segment and take a ten minute recess before we talk about NASA’s Mars expedition.” Seeing as no one moved to speak, the session broke, and a picture of the UN logo filled the screen of the room.

Now that everyone was pulled out of their intense focus on the proceedings, Mack broke the silence exclaiming, “I’m so glad we caught the end of that. This has been going on for so long. It’s wonderful that it’s finally resolved.”

“Exactly,” Emilia said, “It’s a relief that this finally happened. Also, I had no clue that the two planes were connected. That’s so interesting.”

That’s right.  Lewis thought, “I bet Daniel’s parents didn’t even know about it since he never shared it with us. Which really shows how important this revelation is,”

“What is really interesting,” Matt said, pondering as he wandered over to sit on one of the chairs next to the couch, “Is how this correlates to the universe as a whole. If the Ghost Zone is really as infinite as it is claimed to be, would that mean that it is connected to the entire universe rather than just Earth?”

Before Matt could explain more of his pondering thoughts, their resident geologist (and sometimes engineer) Daniel, suddenly said, “Sorry for getting here late, everyone.”

“Geez, Danny, when did you get here?” Emit exclaimed, slightly startled.

“And where were you?” Lewis added on.

“I actually just got here a second ago,” Daniel mentioned casually as he walked over to the adjacent chair on the opposite side of the couch of Emit’s table. He sat down in a dramatic, exhausted manner., “And I was busy dealing with some family things over a call. There’s just a lot going on with everything, particularly my sister, and I had to tend to it. But look, I haven’t missed anything. The discussion hasn’t started yet!” Daniel pointed at the screen that was very clearly showing the “on pause” image. 

Showing up at the last minute,  Lewis thought,  Typical.  She rolled her eyes in a friendly manner. “But you did miss the big news with the Ghost Zone.”

“Oh, what was it?” Daniel said as his eyebrows scrunched up with question.

“The Ghost Zone is getting a United Nations representative,” Emit shared.

Matt then piped in, “And the Ghost King also explained that the two different planes are interconnected, which makes me think that the infiniteness of the universe is connected to the infiniteness of the Ghost Zone. That’s something that I would really like to study and figure out.” 

“That is a really interesting concept,” Daniel said to Matt, “I would love to look into that with you sometime, after our mission, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Wait,” Mack broke in, sweeping a stray strand of dark blonde hair off his face as he narrowed his eyes. “You know when people kind of look like celebrities?”

“Yeah…” Lewis said, not really understanding where his train of thought was heading.

“Danny kind of looks like the Ghost King. Just, like, make Phantom human and change his hair and eye color, and they look similar.”

“You know what,” Emit said, “You’re right, they do look really similar.”

Suddenly, all eyes were on Daniel, who looked rather uncomfortable with all the attention, which Lewis noticed was rather uncharacteristic within their team.  Perhaps it’s just too much right now, he looks absolutely exhausted,  Lewis thought.

“I mean,” Danny started, slightly startled, “I guess I do, but there was this one guy from my high school, Wes, who everyone also said looked just like Phantom. So maybe he just has a familiar face.”

“Hm, sure, I guess,” Mack said.

Before they could ponder everything even more, the screen changed to once again show the filled assembly room. After a moment, the Secretary General spoke again, “Today, we would like to talk about the newest space expedition that is led by the United States of America’s National Aeronautics Space Administration, also known as NASA. Since this expedition is going into places unexplored by humans in person before, it is significant to our society and the changes that it will bring. Quinn Moreau of NASA will be the representative from NASA explaining everything about this expedition to Mars today.”

“Hello, what a delight it is to be here. Thank you for having me. I have been working with much of the preparation process for this mission, including planning, team selection, and training. So please, ask away.”

“Does anyone have any questions or concerns before the office shares ours?” The Secretary General asked the hall.

“I actually do,” the representative from India said as she pressed the microphone button and leaned forward, “I have some important questions about your team. How did you select them? Why is this team the best for this mission? I understand that the entire team is from America, why no other countries?”

“Well, to answer these questions I’ll have to start with our selection process. Two of the base requirements for our organization are that you have to be a citizen of the United States and that you must have a masters in a STEM degree. As such, all of our astronauts are inherently from the United States. It is possible to have astronauts from other countries, but they would only be honorary within NASA and under their own country’s organization. For two reasons, we don’t have any for this mission. One is that the best team combination was made, and coincidentally, was only those from NASA. The other is that this is an unprecedented mission led by NASA. As it is the first of its kind and a solo expenditure from the start, it lies that the astronauts are also from our organization. In the future, we can certainly consider bringing in the best from all countries.

“I would also like to assure you that we went to great lengths to select and curate our team. We chose a selection of those who have a well balanced combination of success in their field, teamwork skills, creativity in thought, perseverance, and integrity. From those selected, we had them undergo our unique HERA training. This is where we simulate a mission in space. From the place, tasks, people, and situation, we simulate it to a T. Through this experience, we can analyze just how well the teams work together and what strengths and weaknesses are most important. We did this extensive forty-five day process three times until we ended with the best team we could curate. And now, they are continuously working on preparing their skills and knowledge for their expedition. Shortly from now, they will undergo a quarantine process where they will finish refining their skills. We  know  that this team will be successful. Thank you for your questions that allowed me to share our extensive process. Is this information satisfactory?”

“Yes, I do regret that this could not be a multinational expedition, but I do see merit in this process.”

“Any other questions?”

“Yes, exploring new places in space is definitely remarkable, but why did you choose this mission to Mars? What are you, and we, going to get out of it? How will this impact the world?” The representative from the United Kingdom asked.

“Thank you for such an interesting question. I’m sure many of us are familiar with the opportunities that Mars can hold for the future. How it can be used to help Earth is important, especially since we’re running out of space and infringing too much on the natural landscape and ecosystem. But we really can’t figure any of this out unless we go there and study it – in person …”

“We know all of this part already,” Emit said as they reached for his circuit board and started to work on it again, “Say, how many times did you all do HERA, again? I did it two times.” The majority of their group let the assembly meeting become background noise as they turned their attention away from it to converse.

“Three,” Matt said, turning away from the screen to face Emit, “It was certainly an experience, that’s for sure. I got to say though, that the third time was exponentially better than the first.” He shared a smile with the team.

“I did it once,” Mack said. At this point, Lewis realized, they were all going to talk and there really was no point in watching the current UN conversation. Might as well enjoy their time together when they don’t have much to worry about.

“Two times for me, and that’s the same for Emilia, right?” 

“Spot on.”

“What about you, Danny?” Emit asked.

“Oh,” Daniel started, pulled out of whatever deep thought he must have gotten himself into, “Three times, actually. It was really nice how, although it was the same mission every time, something was always just a bit different to make it feel like a brand new experience, besides having new teammates of course. Are you guys all ready to go to space? We only have, what, two and a half weeks now?”

“I think I’ve always been ready,” Matt said, “I honestly can’t wait. However, it will be pretty hard to leave all my friends and family behind for such a long time. I mean, it’s almost two years, but with all of us together, I think it would be worth it.”

“Definitely,” Emilia agreed, a soft smile on her face. Lewis could relate, after all this time during their training, they’ve become some sort of a family, though an odd one at that.

Lewis turned her attention back to the United Nations’ livestream. She guessed she shouldn’t be surprised that nothing from it was new to them, but it was still interesting to see how the UN handled it. From what she could see and hear, it seemed like they were concluding the Aphrodite I mission segment of the conversation, and everything after that would be irrelevant to them or is knowledge they already have. “It looks like everything’s about wrapped up. What do you say we play a board game for old time’s sake. We all know we need it.”

“Oh, definitely,” Mack exclaimed, “I need something that’s not  this  to busy my mind.”

“I definitely need a brain break,” Daniel proclaimed, “Which game should we play?”

Emit sighed exasperatedly, “Oh no, you didn’t just ask that, did you? You know it takes us almost an entire hour to decide.” That was  true , Lewis realized. The bad side of having a team of such exceptional people is that, sometimes, it was hard to decide such mundane things because of how much they would overthink it.

“Let’s just do Clue,” Lewis proposed, hoping that they could just settle on anything quickly. This was meant to be a relaxing time, not a debate.

There was silence for a moment, then Emit spoke up, “But that game doesn’t –”

Soft groans of frustration permeated the room.  Here we go …  Lewis thought fondly.

[en-lista]

BITE ME.  ›  DARK BLOOD ݃ 2023

SYNOPSIS. why fear the words of those who don’t appreciate art?

STARRING. ot8 .. enha's choreographer .. backup dancers

DURATION. 541 words

CW + NOTE. possible criticism from homophobics + lista wasn’t able to participate in promotions ≠ she isn’t part of this era 🤭

“..and calista will be partnered with howl. now let’s all get along and do our best, alright?” dahee concludes, shortly receiving a chorus of agreement.

with everyone ready to learn this new dance routine, they shuffle across the room to get a decent view of the dance teacher. calista removes ni-ki’s arm from atop her head and does something similar.. except her target isn’t a place, but a person.

“excuse me,” easily gaining the choreographer’s attention, she cuts to the point, “why did you pair me with a male dancer?”

“since this is quite a sensual and romantic dance, we want to make sure you exude as much chemistry with your partner as possible. and.. well, given how well you get along with howl, i thought it’d be best to put the two of you together.”

she has to admit it.. there is sense to his explanation. yet, there is a pair of dots in her mind that hasn’t been connected. and while it may seem selfish, she needs to know the answer.

“no offense to howl,” the mentioned dancer waves it off, much more interested in witnessing where this is going than feeling indignant. “but i’m capable of doing the same thing with a female partner.”

..is it just dahee, or did the studio get chillier?

“are you really confident about that?” before he can be misunderstood—a few blank stares from both her members and the dancers tells him he already is—the young man hastily tacks on, “people will already make comments about you dancing with another woman, who knows what they’ll say if there’s a lack of chemistry between the two of you..”

calista shrugs her shoulders, undeterred. “let them talk. at the end of the day, that’s all they can do. besides, i’m sure with practice, my partner and i can build up a connection that’ll translate into our dance.”

“she’s right.” this time, it’s jay who speaks up—ready to defend his best friend. “no matter what she does, they’ll always have something to say. so don’t pay them much attention or else they’ll drain your energy and patience.”

still hesitant about letting the idol pull off such a bold move, dahee turns to ni-ki for his input. it makes sense, seeing as how he did contribute in the creation of this choreography..

all eyes are on the maknae as he coolly approaches the older girl, his verdict readily sitting on the tip of his tongue. his arm wraps around her shoulder, rosy lips curled in a confident smile. “ever since we were rookies, noona has never failed to pull off a showstopper. which is why i’m certain that regardless of who she dances with, she’ll continue her streak.”

3 to 1; the winner has been declared.

resigned, the choreographer sighs and apologizes, “if you’re really set on this, i can pair you with hyeily. but please know that i only made my initial decision because i don’t want you to face the fans’ harsh backlash, okay?”

“i understand, and i appreciate your concern.” a cheshire smirk paints itself upon calista’s visage as she tells him, “but i’m no longer a stranger to that kind of scene, so if they talk then i’ll just tell them..

bite me.”

꒰ TAGLIST.  @stealanity @lost-leopard-beanie @fairiepoems 𐬹 send an ask if you’d like to be added  ꒱

[ssukidesu]

Inextricably Knotted (an Inukag + Jane Eyre AU) [Chapter 7]

Summary: Kagome Higurashi was orphaned as a baby and raised by her cruel aunt until the age of ten, after which she went to school and learned the art of service and self-suppression. Now eighteen, Kagome takes a job as the governess of Shippo, the young ward of the great and mysterious Lord Inuyasha Taisho.

But as Kagome gets to know her bemusing master, a ghost seems to haunt his estate, hinting that there is a long-lost secret hiding on the third floor.

(Read on AO3)

tag list: @heynikkiyousofine @xanthippe-writes

Chapter 7: Portraits and Wings

The presence of guests at Jidai-Ju Hall persisted into the following weekend. The days were not much changed—Shippo received most of her attention, even though she received very little of his. Despite his fascination with the goings on of the company, Kagome managed during most lessons to wrench some productivity out of him.

During the evenings, Kagome would sit as she was bid among their company silently. Her presence clearly disconcerted everyone—except him who ordered it, as he instead preferred to ignore her altogether. Kagome would pretend not to notice as she read lines of whatever book she chose to accompany her that night, with varying degrees of success. 

The group would often play games—cards, billiards, darts, guessing games, and so on. Tonight—which was a misty Saturday night that hinted at spring's approach—it appeared the game of choice would be charades.

It was Mr. Taisho’s idea. “Let us test the skill of our silence,” he had proclaimed dramatically as he came into the parlor last, as he always did. The room bustled in anticipation, and during the commotion, he walked over to grab a book off the shelf adjacent to Kagome’s seat. 

“Will you play?” he asked simply, gaze flicking to her face for a brief moment.

Surprised by the address, Kagome only shook her head.

To her relief, he did not insist. He returned to the heart of the room and declared himself the partner of the woman of the hour. 

Lady Yura sported a fine dress of pale blue, floral buds of beads and lace decorating the sweetheart bust and form-fitting sleeves. Her short hair was distinctly straight, and a dainty white ribbon worked to frame her face as a headband. The other women in the room donned similar, though less remarkable, attire. The men wore typical vests and shed their coats once the fire’s heat permeated the room. Mr. Taisho shared the fashion. 

The other pairs were named: Kagura with Ayame—the young demoness with brown hair—and Naraku with Kouga—the unfortunate recipient of Ayame’s too-frequent affections. In the last few days, Kagome had learned that both Ayame and Kouga were wolf demons, and Naraku and Kagura were some other type seemingly unassociated with a specific animal. But whatever they were, they were indeed kin of some sort, though the precise kind evaded Kagome still.

With the parties ready, Mr. Taisho opened the book, which housed charade prompts. “Who would like to go first?” he asked.

“I think we should, dear Inuyasha,” said Yura. “Someone must show everyone how it’s to be done.”

As Kagome’s grasp of the nuances between each relationship deepened, she found Yura’s air of confidence surprisingly fragile. The woman’s beauty proved unmatched; however, whenever her desired devotee did not fully satisfy her with their attention, her expression became strained, and her smile fabricated. And worse for her, Kagome thought for certain that Mr. Taisho noticed, too.

Perhaps more than anyone else, Kagome watched her master as he navigated through the weeds and waves of whatever bog this party was proving itself to be. But he did not miss a beat—every joke, he built upon masterfully; every flirt, he returned with charm. And yet, Kagome was becoming less and less convinced of the truth of her master’s affections for the woman. 

When she first arrived, Kagome bristled and flinched at Mr. Taisho’s smiles and trifles with Lady Yura. But Kagome’s observations—once she gained the courage to allow them—revealed that their companionship was quite hollow. 

And this was not merely the hopeful opinion of a naive girl. Kagome watched herself just as carefully, and she was confident that she was seeing with the undeceived eyes of a self-controlled woman: indeed, Kagome saw that Lord Inuyasha was going to marry Lady Yura—for rank, for family. But not for love. 

And this game of charades, with all of its coquetry and costume and comedy, was nothing more than the ironic pastime of the larger parody between the players. 

What frustrated Kagome the most was that, where Lady Yura failed to genuinely please Mr. Taisho, Kagome saw where she would have succeeded. Lady Yura was all too upfront: where she brushed the master’s shoulder, a subtle smirk would have proven more effective. Where she feigned bashfulness, a statement of distant confidence would have won. With the certainty of a woman, Kagome now knew what her heart had felt from the beginning: it was she who understood Mr. Taisho best. He was not to them what he was to her. They were akin to each other—more than any pair with so different experiences could be. Kagome was certain that she and Mr. Taisho shared more sympathy in a single passing glance than Yura could manage wrangling out of an entire evening.

And with all of this, Kagome remembered his words to her so many months ago: You’ve never felt jealousy, have you, Miss Higurashi? Of course you haven’t—for that would require that you experience love, first. When the day finally comes that you feel the prick, you’ll learn that one can only feel jealousy when the person usurping your love is truly better than you.

Kagome indeed did not feel jealous of Lady Yura. But the heartbreak was no easier. Perhaps if the woman had been a lady of grace and kindness, of wit and wisdom, Kagome would have been capable of blessing the union with all her heart. But it was the inferiority of Lady Yura—her inability to earnestly charm him—that kept Kagome discontented with her impending union with her master. Because he was going to marry her anyway.

Thus, she sat silently in her seat and watched as Mr. Taisho and Lady Yura, now dawning half-complete costumes relating to whatever their prompt was, enacted some sort of ceremony. The lady wore a white curtain about her body over her dress, and she draped a corner of it over her head and face like a veil. Mr. Taisho had restored his black coat to his person and added his top hat to the mix, and he filled his hands with the contents of a now-vacant flower vase and offered them to her on bended knee. 

“Proposal!” cried Ayame.

“Love,” said Kouga.

“Groom!” tried Kagura.

“Bride,” concluded Kouga.

Naraku sat absently, seemingly uninterested in the game.

The two actors signed that Kouga’s latest answer was the first word in the phrase. They then disappeared behind the makeshift curtain to prepare their second performance. In the interim, Kagura leaned over to Naraku from her place beside him for a curt whisper, most likely a rebuke for his lack of enthusiasm. He met her scowl with equal fervor. 

When Mr. Taisho and Lady Yura returned, their appearances had changed. Some Middle Eastern fabric had been retrieved and fashioned into scarves, which draped about the lady’s head and the master’s neck, respectively. The pair proceeded to mimic the Genesis meeting of Rebecca and Eliezer at the well—another allusion to matrimony. The only things missing were the camels.

“Bridewell,” said Kouga pridefully, and the players assented. Kagome smiled at Kouga’s obvious self-satisfaction, and she flicked her gaze to Mr. Taisho, who also seemed amused by his friend's joyous victory. Her master’s dark brows quirked, and his lips twitched into a subtle smirk. 

It was then the turn of the two gentlemen, who halfheartedly managed to perform “French Ballroom” with an abundance of proud jabs at the invoked inferior country. Ayame and Kagura somehow enacted “Aurora Borealis”, the revelation taking many hard minutes of struggle from all parties.

The game ended around midnight. Kagome could not have guessed the time, as she felt so far from sleepy that she wondered if she would get any rest at all after retiring. She kept picturing Yura in her blue dress, fingers pressed against Mr. Taisho’s shoulder as they conferred together during the other pairs’ performances. 

Kagome would not paint tonight, the mess seeming burdensome, but she could make do with the colored pencils that Lady Kaede had brought her alongside the paints. She began at her own desk, her draft sketches swirling and scraping on the first white page. But soon, the window above her space was abandoned by the moonlight. She had only one candle to spare, and though it had another couple of hours remaining, it was not enough. 

It was likely around one thirty. Everyone would be asleep, she assured herself. Kagome gathered her materials—the pages pressed between her arm and torso and the pencils clenched in her right fist—and gripped her candle. She departed from her room and turned down the westward hallway. She came upon her desired place—a large bay window that would bear moonlight for another hour or two. Its cushioned bench was large and would fit her easily. She settled herself, placed her candle on the sill, and continued her work. She completed the final version of the first piece—its flawless face, shining black hair, and pale blue dress filling the page masterfully—only thirty minutes after; she filed it beneath her new page and began working again. She would not use color for this one.

Kagome did not know how much time it took, but she was soon finished with her own portrait. She raised and compared the two—submitting to her purpose in drawing them. Lady Yura’s was titled: “An Accomplished Lady of Rank.” Her own, which brought a cringing curl to her lip and an emptiness to her chest, was titled: “A Governess, Disconnected, Poor, and Plain.” Kagome exhaled, satisfied with her efforts in humbling her recent illogic.

“What are you doing up at this hour?” inquired a voice from beyond the raised portraits.

She managed to smother her squeal of surprise. Lowering the papers and inhaling deeply, she admired Mr. Taisho’s curious face and ruffled sleeping clothes—his white shirt again open near the collar, exposing the top sliver of his muscled chest, and loose red pants—akin to his red coat, she noticed. As frightful as his appearance often was, there was a beauty to his ruggedness, to his long hair and wrinkled shirt, to his broad shoulders and strong legs. But she was forgetting herself—forgetting already the lesson to which she had dedicated the last few hours.  

She cleared her throat and brought her legs closer to herself. “Just drawing. I couldn’t sleep. And you?”

“I walk the grounds sometimes, when I’m restless. Such is part of my duties as lord here, anyway.”

“I see.”

A beat. “Can I look at them? Your drawings.”

Kagome swallowed hard, panic swelling in her chest. “I don’t know…”

Her hesitance brought a challenging look to his face. “Come on, where’s the harm? Have you made something horrible? Intimate, perhaps?”

“All my works are intimate.”

“Yes, but none have been so much so that you’ve hidden them from me before.”

“And how would you know that?” she shot back. “If I’m hiding some, by necessity you would know nothing about them.”

His smile was wolfish. “Ah. An admission?”

Kagome scowled. “A criticism of logic.”

Air left his nose in a puff. “Do you mind if I light a cigar? You’ve your creature comforts; I’d like my own.”

“I don’t mind,” she said.

He sat himself on the other side of the bench, situating his legs so that they mirrored hers. Kagome suddenly felt bashful about her slipperless feet. He seemed to notice them simultaneously, and she slid them backwards to hide them somewhat under her night gown. He made no comment, himself having bare feet, opting instead to place his cigar between his lips and pull a match from his pocket. The movement jostled the sleeves of his shirt, and Kagome noticed a single thin bandage wrapped around his forearm—exactly where he had been burned. Kagome would have asked him how it was possible that he had not fully healed after so many weeks, but the words would not form. The match’s fire erupted passionately when it scratched against his flint, then soothed to a subtle flicker. Once its duty was fulfilled, Mr. Taisho snuffed the flame. The first ring of smoke obscured his piercing gaze like a ghostly curtain.

Kagome peaked back down at the portraits in her lap. She pulled Yura’s out from beneath her own and studied it. What would be its effect on her master? The curiosity came upon her like a muse. “I don’t mind if you see this one,” she said finally, pulling it out and handing it to him.

He looked surprised at her acquiescence, his golden eyes flicking down to the paper only after he was assured by the certainty on her face. A moment passed before he spoke. “A beautiful picture of Lady Yura. You’ve captured her essence, certainly.”

Her toes curled beneath her dress. “But do you like it?”

His eyes flicked up at hers for only a second, a strange lilt in his brow forming at her inquiry. “As well as I like the person whom it depicts.”

Kagome puzzled at the riddle. She didn’t dare question his meaning further with words; instead, she felt a sudden courage unfolding in her ribs. “If I show you the other one, would it receive a more detailed review?”

Inuyasha smiled, then released a puff of smoke from his pursed lips. “If you wish.”

Wordlessly, Kagome unsheathed the second page from her lap and handed it to him. His clawed fingers took hold.

The silence was unbearable. She bit her lip and shrunk down to hide herself between her shoulders and behind her knees. Her elbows dug into her ribs like a clamp.

When he looked up, the reproachful disappointment on his face made her feel her own adolescence more than she had in years. When he spoke, his voice was slow, calculated. “The one of Yura was nothing short of perfection. This one, on the other hand… I must withhold my praise.”

She could have thrown up. Averting her eyes to the window, she focused on the moon as it peaked and wove through wispy clouds. “Why?”

“Because this is the only work of yours I’ve seen that houses a lie.”

Her head whipped back to face him. His look was serious, if not a little irritated—probably mimicking her own. “And what lie is that?”

Inuyasha retained his harsh expression, but he leaned forward till his elbows draped over his knees. “You dishonor yourself.” He brought a hand to brush an orphaned lock of hair from her face, reminding her that this was the second time he’d seen it down. His voice quieted for their increased proximity. “Do you want to hear my criticisms in greater detail?”

Kagome felt her jaw clench. She remembered the purpose behind her two drawings, and she could not help but feel that he was spitting on her efforts of self-preservation. Her words were clipped. “You may find fault with it, but a piece cannot be criticized for reflecting an artist’s thoughts and feelings. Such is the nature of art.”

His eyes seared into her own despite their focus out the window. His voice carried a firmness that reminded her of a lost friend. “A romantic attitude. But while an artist may claim immunity to mechanical criticism for such reasons, they cannot claim immunity to criticism of the perceptions themselves that produced the piece. No one is ever immune to being critiqued for their thoughts and feelings. In fact, it is these things alone that are worth criticism. All else—social rank, familial history, physical characteristics…” he paused, finally succeeding in regaining her strangely watery gaze, “…are arbitrary. Wasn’t it you who said you cared far more about judging me for the characteristics of mine you couldn’t see?”

As if struck dumb, Kagome only nodded. He tilted the page to make it visible to her, and she relented, leaning forward to join his scrutiny.

He spoke slowly, “Here, you’ve intentionally emphasized the slightest trace of defect and neutered every point of expression that gives life and light to your countenance. You’ve drained your color, dulled your eyes. Your lips have been dried out. Your lashes thinned. I have not once seen this expression on your face; even now, as annoyed as you are with me, your cheeks are alive, your eyes large with lighted emotion. Your lips…” His gaze traced her physiognomy as he spoke. Reorienting himself at her eyes, he concluded, “And you’ve left something out.” 

When he didn’t elaborate, she bemoaned her curiosity and took the bait. “What have I forgotten?” Her voice sounded strange to her own ears.

His smile was half tender, half menacing. “Your wings.”

Kagome couldn’t help the tension-relieving laugh that escaped her upturned lips. Whatever he said about the color in her face, she was sure it was growing now. She folded her arms and situated her unburdened legs to cross beneath her. “My wings are retractable. I save their exhibition for times when they’re needed.”

He was pleased with her play, and he scooted forward to chase her, knees bent and closing in like a cage around her. “Oh? And what sort of times are these? I would love to see them one day.” His posture had him so forward that his face was a mere foot from hers, their lines of sight equal. The smell of his cigar, forgotten in his fingers, curled around her nose.

Kagome’s smile grew, but something in her words pierced her own heart. “Impossible. If I’ve unsheathed them, I’ve done so for flight. I’d be gone long before you could notice.”

His eyes carried a strange emotion. “And what of my traps? The invisible nets I’ve splayed out in the sky to catch runaway fairies?” At the word catch, he again intertwined his finger with a lock of her hair.

“You of all people should know that you cannot confine such creatures.”

“I said nothing of confining,” he began, leaning in even closer. Kagome watched his mouth intently, gaze locked on the points of his teeth past his lips. He continued with a whispered sardonic lilt, “I only wish to study one of God’s highest creations. After which, if she wishes to go, I’ll pack her bag myself out of good will. But only after appealing intently for her permanent residence, and sulking petulantly at my failure.”

Kagome was sure she’d turned scarlet now. She pushed his left knee with the tips of her fingers, breaking his cage. She ignored the rough intake of his breath at the contact. She cleared her throat and said, “I’m afraid I can script our play no further, Inuyasha. I was never one for theater.”

“Nor I,” he said with a grin, seemingly pleased at her using his name. His finger relinquished her strands. After a moment with no response from her, he added, “No more of this.” He dropped both papers back into her lap. “If you’re going to steal my supplies, you’ll be sure to not use them for blasphemy. I order you to fix it.”

“I’d much rather destroy and forget about them altogether, sir. Additionally, though I am your employee, I don’t see the propriety of such commands that have nothing to do with my employment as Shippo’s governess.”

If he noticed her jocular tone, he didn’t show it. “I’m not commanding you as an employer.”

Kagome’s mouth sealed shut. She waited for him to explain his meaning, but he never did, opting instead to kiss his cigar once more. His golden eyes had caught fire, their glow outshining that of the candle on the sill, whose flame flickered from the easy draft and made their shadows sway together. Scared of his elaboration should she invite it, Kagome decided that the late hour demanded her retirement, even if it meant ripping her away from this dreamlike exchange. “As you wish.”

She saw the irritation on his sharp features at her obvious self-censorship. But he let it go. He reclined to his original place leaning against the wall. “You’re tired. If you’ve any desire to sleep tonight, you must go this instant.”

If he meant it innocently, his frustrated expression and clenching fists did not help depict it. Kagome felt a ghostly finger trace up her spine at his gaze, which fought to force its way into the depths of her own to assess its secrets.

Gathering up her things, Kagome stood, holding her papers flush to her chest to hide her unbound breasts which had before been protected by her dress’s loose drape. “Goodnight, sir. You might consider trying to sleep again, as well.” 

“I’ll consider it,” he said, eyes flicking down to her bare feet and the lower half of her shins, now exposed by her night gown. 

Blushing bright, she bowed her head in goodbye. “Till morning,” she said.

[the-delta-42]

Hindsight - Chapter 1

[First] [Previous] [Next]

Hindsight

Chapter 1

Hector Damocles prided himself in his work. College Francis Dupont housed the children of the elite and influential, from the daughter of the mayor to the son of a famous Fashion Mogul. He also prided himself in his skills when handling a delicate situation. One such situation was when a pupil not only cheated on a test but stole from and attacked another student. To Hector, there was only one course of action. Expulsion in front of all her peers.

He didn’t back down from his position, not when the girl’s parents protested it, not when a member of his staff approached him and told him there was no way the student could’ve cheated on a test, not when her score matched up with her previous scores and that the student, she attack was acting perfectly fine. Hector didn’t hesitate when telling Caline to hand in her notice. He had made it clear on everyone’s contracts that they were not to question him on such matters.

To Hector, everything was perfect.

Across the city, at Jeanne D’Arc Creative Arts College, Caline Bustier was openly gaping at her contract.

“There’s no exceptions list.” Said Caline, getting a frown from Arthur Coleman.

“What do you mean ‘exceptions list’?” Asked Arthur, leaning forwards.

“At my previous workplace, there was a list of students that we weren’t allowed to punish.” Said Caline, “The Mayor’s daughter for one.”

“And that was written into your contract?” Asked Arthur, putting his fingertips together, “Well, Ms. Bustier, here at Jeanne D’Arc we have no such stipulations, if a student is misbehaving or bullying another student they are to be treated like any other student and punished.”

Caline was quiet, soaking in the new information.

“Now, if that is everything, I believe we have work to do.” Said Arthur going to stand up.

“Wait!” Gasped Caline, “At my previous workplace we had a student that was expelled based on accusations that didn’t make sense, the principle didn’t investigate the claims and refused to after he expelled her.”

Arthur mulled over the information, before asking the student’s name.

A few hours later, Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng were at the school doors with their daughter in tow. Arthur looked Marinette over, noting that amount of makeup under her eyes, as well as the slight limp in her left leg.

“Fallen down the stairs recently, Ms. Dupain-Cheng?” Asked Arthur, getting shocked looks from the girl’s parents.

“No, I jumped down a trap door and landed awkwardly.” Said Marinette, making Arthur frown.

“A new member of staff made us aware of your expulsion from your previous school, as well as your creativity.” Said Arthur, as he led the group to his office, “Caline told us about the lack of a proper investigation and how the evidence was circumstantial at best. As well as the schools ‘course of action’ when it came to the bullying of students.”

Tom and Sabine exchanged a worried look at his statement.

“Rest assured, this school has a zero-tolerance policy on bullying and will punish the aggressor as we see fit.” Said Arthur, “As well as a full and proper investigation into the matter. Now, shall we begin with the tour?”

H

Marinette nervously shifted as she waited outside her form room. The receptionist reassuringly squeezed her shoulder, before knocking on the door to the class.

“Alright, everyone, we have a new student today,” Said the teacher, Mr. Stolberg, “She’s a new transfer and I expect everyone, Allan, Claude, to be kind and welcoming.”

There was a half-hearted muttering, before Mr. Stolberg called them in, “Everyone, this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Ms. Dupain-Cheng, meet your classmates.”

There was the sound of someone choking, making everyone look at them, a dark-skinned boy was thumping his desk mate on the back.

“I thought I said everyone was to be kind and welcoming, Allan.” Sighed Mr. Stolberg, making the dark-skinned boy sit up straight.

“Hey, this was all Claude!” Protested the boy, as Claude, a light skinned boy with brown hair and eyes coughed up a ball of paper.

“Dude, again with the spitballs?” asked a blonde-haired girl with tanned skin.

“That’s enough, Allegra.” Said Mr. Stolberg, “Now, I’m going to need a volunteer to show Marinette around.”

Allegra’s hand shot up as she practically launched herself from her seat, “I’ll do it!”

Mr. Stolberg looked around, seeing a few hands up, before he turned back to Allegra, “All right, Allegra, since you don’t have a desk mate, you can show Marinette around.”

There was collective groan, as Marinette made her way over to the blonde girl.

“Hi, I’m Allegra Musique, but everyone calls me Allegra, well, since it’s my name and- I’m babbling aren’t I, hehe, Sorry, I don’t meet many celebrities.” Babbled Allegra, giggling nervously.

Marinette quirked an eyebrow, “Oo-kay,” Said Marinette, slowly, “I’m not a celebrity, but, sure.”

“W-what do you mean you’re ‘not a celebrity’?!” Exclaimed Allegra, “You are Marinette Dupain-Cheng, right?”

“Yeah, have been since I was born.” Said Marinette, taken aback by Allegra’s outburst.

“You did design Jagged Stone’s Sunglasses and CD cover?” Asked Allegra, getting a nod from Marinette, “You did design the Messenger bowler hat that was modelled by Adrien Agreste?” Marinette nodded again, “Aren’t also working on a multi-coloured sequin jacket that was commissioned last week?!”

“How’d you know about that last one?” Asked Marinette, as Allegra went red with embarrassment.

“She’s a fan of your work.” Said Claude, leaning forwards, “Personally, I prefer magic tricks to clothes.”

Marinette glanced him over, before her mouth said, “I can tell.” Before Marinette clapped a hand over her mouth.

Allan laughed, “Oh, she’s gonna fit right in.” As he thumped Claude on the back, who cracked a smile.

H

Alya internally groaned as the new teacher went through the lesson, Ms. Bustier never made the class so boring. Alya saw Adrien rub his wrist, before remembering that the Teacher had ordered him to write Lila’s notes for her.

Strangely enough, Lila had walked into the school with a spring in her step, a far cry from how Marinette had supposedly injured her. Alya had made a group chat with all of her classmates, excluding Lila and Chloe. After Marinette was gone, everyone had started to notice how some of Lila’s stories did not add up. They all agreed that they owed Marinette a very big apology.

H

Three months later, Marinette had a new friend group in her new school, she had introduced the trio to her old Classmates, Allan and Claude nearly fainting when they met Nino and Mylene, respectively.

“We’ve managed to convince Marinette to audition for a role in an upcoming production,” Said Claude, leaning back in a chair in Marinette’s living room, “it became a group effort after everyone heard her singing voice.”

“Wait, Marinette can sing?” Gasped Rose, looking at the dark-haired girl.

“It’s not as good as Allegra’s.” Mumbled Marinette, her face going red.

“Bullshit.” Said Allegra, flipping her braid over her shoulder, “You build everyone up and try to make everyone forget about you, if anyone of us is going to be famous, we’re going to drag you to the top with us.”

“What did she sing?” Asked Alya, resting against her arms.

“History has its eyes on you.” Said Allan, through a mouthful of croissant.

“Yeah, we tried to get her to rap once,” Shuddered Allegra, getting a pillow thrown at her, “She bit her tongue while doing it though.”

Everyone stared at Marinette, “I panicked, and my jaw seized up.” Defended Marinette.

“We’re going to try to train her in the art of rap.” Said Allan, throwing his arm around Marinette’s shoulders.

The ground suddenly shook.

“ADRIKINS!” Screamed a high, shrill voice, “WHERE ARE YOU?!”

The sound of a pot breaking, swiftly followed by a thud, made everyone look up, just as Adrien slid into the room.

“Adrien…” Said Nino, as the ground shook again, “What did you do?”

No one noticed Marinette slip out of the room.

A few moments later, Ladybug swung past and landed on the roof.

The giant form of Chloe Bourgeois stomped around the city. Chat Noir landed next to Ladybug and winced.

“Okay, I’ve got to admit,” Said Chat, rubbing his arm, “I did not expect this to happen when I woke up today.”

Ladybug glanced over at Chat, before doing a double take.

“Chat, what happened to your arm?” Asked Ladybug, turning towards her partner.

“A, uh, ‘friend’ gripped it too tightly.” Said Chat, rubbing his hand over the cast.

“That ‘friend’ better not still be a friend.” Muttered Ladybug, readying her yoyo, “Any idea where the Akuma could be?”

“Picture in her hand.” Said Chat, pointing to an over-large piece of paper in Chloe’s hand.

“Okay, I’ll trip her, you get ready to destroy the picture.” Said Ladybug, before throwing her yoyo into the air, “Lucky Charm!”

A second yoyo fell into Ladybug’s hand, who grinned and spotted two Lamp posts standing opposite each other. Ladybug quickly hooked one yoyo around the two lamp posts and then looped the second around Chloe’s legs. Chloe face planted the floor, dropping the picture in her hand.

Char quickly Cataclysmed it, releasing the Akuma within it. Ladybug caught the Akuma, purified it and then cast the cure, restoring everything to normal. Unbeknownst to Ladybug and Chat Noir, a woman glared at Ladybug, before rushing forwards.

Ladybug froze the second she felt someone’s hands on her ears, before the earrings were ripped from her earlobes. In a flash, Chat had the woman pressed against the ground, with the earrings in hand. Chat almost reared back when he recognised Nathalie, before he looked up at Ladybug and his stomach dropped the moment, we saw her. Marinette knelt on the floor, blood coursing from her ears, her hands to occupied to cover her face. The sight of the camera was the cherry on top, letting Chat know Ladybug’s, Marinette’s, identity had just been thrown to the wind. Looking down, Chat spotted something on Nathalie’s chest, a small peacock fan shaped broach. Gently removing it, Chat watched as it changed its shape into the same style of broach, but vastly different from what it had been.

[nakamotos-blog]

E-mails

Yuta (Performing Arts Major, Football captain) x Reader (Fashion Design Major), College Au, Strangers to lovers (Part two)

Genre; Fluff

Warnings for this chapter; Non

Word count; 1291

Dear Yuta,

 You probably think I'm weird by now, and I wouldn't blame you. It has been a month since I have been sending these emails to you, and I have decided that it is time that I stopped. I don't know if you ever read these stupid emails. Either way, I just hope it wasn't a bother.

 I just wanted you to know that it helped me in many ways. It sounds stupid, but it did, and I guess this will be my last email!

 P.S Eat healthily and stay safe.

Love, (your initials)

 You hit send as you sigh loudly. You closed your laptop and leaned on your chair as you felt hopelessness. Looking around the library filled with students, your eyes hungrily looked for someone specific. Defeated, you started to pack as you teared up. You were hating yourself right now, and you were wishing that you could do many things. Among those, what you wished for most was confidence to at least say hi to him, but no, you had to be so cowardly.

 It had been a month since you decided to e-mail him to interact with him. You thought it would be a great idea. Clearly, you thought wrong, because he never replied. You had been so hopeful, even after a week had passed, but to your dismay, there was no reply. You tried to be hopeful and you tried to make up every excuse you could for him. Rambles and complaints, everything you never said but wanted to say, you wrote it to him almost every night. Your bubble ended up bursting as it hit a month and so you decided to stop. To move on from all this, you knew you had to.

 Yuta is a popular figure; everyone knows him. Everyone likes him and adores him. Like his healing smile is just enough to melt anyone's heart. He was everything, and you were just one of the girls who drooled over him. Due to the difference in their majors and years, it was hard to cross paths. Not even once, never close by, just from afar.

 You were still lost in a pool of degradative thoughts, even though you were walking out of the library and towards the dorms. It was disheartening and disappointing as well, but you knew you would get over it. Somehow...

 As soon as you reached your room, you slept. The unmotivated self of yours woke up at 11 pm. What a time to be awake, right? Frustrated, you dragged yourself out of bed, freshening up before sitting down at your desk. You opened your laptop as the unfinished homework wouldn't be finishing itself. It wouldn't take so long; you thought while you scribbled down in your notebook.

 "Almost done," you talked to yourself as you stretched. You take a deep breath before you attend to the rest of your work, but before you could start writing, a familiar "beep" sound caught your attention. Clicking on the notification from desktop Gmail, your eyes widened as you realized there was a new email in your inbox. It wasn't just any inbox, though; it was the Gmail inbox that you used solely to send him those emails.

Dear (your initials),

 Hi, I feel like you would hate me for replying to your goodbye and not the others. But I just want to be selfish and ask you to keep sending them. Except this time, I promise to write back. I'm sorry for not writing back earlier. I have read all of them and it has never bothered me.

 Hopefully, some day we can meet up and hang out too. I don't think you are weird, by the way.

Love, Yuta

 You didn’t expect a reply, so your first thought was that you were dreaming. Pinching yourself to clarify whether it was real, you shoved your face right at the display to re-read the mail from that familiar address you wrote to every day. He was right. You kind of hated him for not replying and you wanted to kick him for it.

 Out of everything, though, what stood out to you most was his question. You still weren't ready to. Maybe you will never be However, happiness overtook any of your feelings. He will be writing back to you. You squealed as you stretched yourself before writing a reply.

Dear Yuta,

 Your reply almost knocked me out of my chair, honestly. I really didn't think you would reply! I forgive you, so you better keep your promise!

 I’m glad you don’t find me weird (or stupid, of course), and I was really worried that I might have gotten on your bad side. Now that I know that I didn’t, I’m on cloud nine.

 How was your day? You must be tired, with all the Football practice going on and everything. Tell me about it.

Love, (Y/I)

 You hit send again, this time with stars in your eyes. I was not expecting a reply tonight as it was almost 12am and you got back to your homework. It didn’t take too long until you heard the same "beep" again. You smiled from ear to ear as you read the reply you had just received.

Dear (Y/I),

 Well, I’m glad you are happy (and that you didn't fall off of your chair).

 I’m actually pretty tired. Football practice is so tiresome, though it is fun. Classes were boring, as usual, you know. Those long lectures feel like hell. But it was better than yesterday because I had coffee to keep me company in class. Speaking of classes, what major are you? I promise I won't look into finding you until you are ready to meet me.

 The boys had ordered pizza from outside of the campus, so I’m so full and lazy now. I've just got to lie on the bed. They always drag me out to join their fun. Oh, and I hope you have eaten by now since it is late.

 What are you up to?

Love, Yuta

Dear Yuta,

 Your day sounds fun compared to mine. I'm guilty of sleeping the whole day (basically). Maybe I could attach some of the rest that I got so you can have them.

 Oh, I'm majoring in fashion design. I'm a first-year, so it's painful. You better keep that promise too, or else! And it's nice to know that the boys take care of you. It's really cute. I have met Jungwoo a few times by the way (a hint again, yes).

 I should help myself to some ramen I think I could hear my stomach growling. I just finished my homework since it won't get done itself.

 You should get some sleep, Yuta. Since the competition is soon, you must practice tomorrow too, right? Good night, sweetest dreams!

Love, (Y/I)

You thought of waiting for a few minutes to go through your notes and also for his reply to come. A few minutes passed, and there was that beep again. You hurried to read it before you headed to fix yourself a cup of instant ramen.

Dear (Y/I)

fashion designer? If you need a model, I'm available at any time, okay? I’m handsome, you know, fit to be a model!

It's good you had good rest today, and thank you for sending some of it my way! Take care of yourself, okay? And don’t help yourself with cups of instant ramen all the time; it's not healthy.

Oh yeah, the competition. You should come and cheer for me both at practice and at the competition too. Maybe I could spot you.

You should sleep soon too. Eat well! Good night and sleep well!

P.S. Jungwoo is so lucky then.

Love, Yuta

(I hope you like it! There will be a next chapter so stay tuned!!)

[loveemii]

✩☆ 𝖯𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗇𝖾𝗋 ☆✩

ミ 𝖨𝗇𝗈𝗌𝗎𝗄𝖾 𝗑 𝖥𝖾𝗆 彡

(>ᴗ•) - kny modern - academy

✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩

Inosuke is someone you know, rather a friendly face in the hallways. But you do know one of his friends. Tanjiro is his name. A kind guy he is. You had your last period class subject art with your professor Mr. Rengoku. He was making a new seating chart and you got the window seat at the very first row at the end of the classroom to the left of who? Inosuke. He was sitting to the right of you. The expression on his face was excited and you can always tell when Inosuke is hyper.

You both knew each other and said hi or waved at each other a few times. He did have feelings for you but he would never admit that, to himself or anyone else. On the other hand, you like him a lot. And everyone else sees it except Inosuke himself. You giggled as Inosuke’s expression grew stronger as Mr. Rengoku passed out water colors to everyone.

As Mr. Rengoku finished he stood in front of the class and began to explain the assignment

“Alright class! As you see I gave you all watercolors! We are going to make a portrait of one of our classmates! But there will be assigned partners! Naturally your partner will be the person next to you! Example! Y/n and Inosuke will be partners together!”

As Mr. Rengoku finished speaking Inosuke looked to the left of him and saw your face bright pink. You were blushing. But how could you not? Your partners and sitting next to the person you like!

Inosuke’s face turned pink with blush across his cheeks but his expression was annoyed. He had no idea how to deal with these feelings and so he didn’t want to talk to you as much as he wanted to. If that makes sense? lol

Mr. Rengoku began to speak once more.

“Oh and, you will share the watercolors with your partner! Please work on this project now!”

You saw how annoyed Inosuke looked and it gave you a frown. You felt that he didn’t like you since he was a little cold towards you the most. You tried to brush the feeling off by taking your pencil and sketching his beautiful face onto the paper. He noticed the look on your face had changed from happy to whatever. This kind of pushed him to speak to you.

“What the hell if that look on your face?”

“The look of boredom.”

You replied in a single sentence. As you finished sketching his face you still kind of smiled at it. He noticed this and his eyes became wider. He realized that you do like him. And so he plainly asked you in front of everyone.

He leaned in his chair closer to yours with a huge smirk on his face.

“You like me?”

This caught you off guard and your face became red real fast. You didn’t know how to act or what to say nor do. You just turned to him and avoided eye contact as much as you could and nodded as you spoke.

“Y-es.”

“Ha! I knew it the second you smiled at that sketch of me!”

This made you giggle a little and so he grabbed the watercolors and passed them to you. You grabbed them as your thumbs brushed against each other. He then began to sketch you out on his paper.

“Hey Y/n-“

“Yeah?”

“You, me, date. Tonight.”

“Oh-ok.”

Is all you could say before comprehending it all clearly afterwards. Everyone in the class was listening to your conversation with Inosuke and gasps filled the room and whispers. (all good things dw lol) You both finished your portraits of each other. Inosuke cleared his throat and you looked his way. He showed you his painting he made of you and lord- this guy needs a little help. But on the other hand your painting of him was beautiful. Almost as beautiful as himself.

You showed him and he blushed and was at a loss for words. He was blushing once again and had no control or intention of hiding it. You giggled at his facial expression. He was a little angry that you were better at him this class. He can beat you in math though. (or so he thinks lol) For sure P.E though. There he is the beast.

i hope you enjoyed! and please ignore any grammar or spelling mistakes. <3

[just-sonic-things]

Something Going On in Green Hill (Part 1)

T//W: Child Abuse

(I will place a text cut where it takes place. Only read past there if you can.)

Shadow's POV:

It was my first day at this rustic looking high school and I was already a bit hesitant to even make an effort to socialize. Instead, I just put on my headphones through a good chunk of the day, except in classes. Even then, raising my hand to answer questions I actually knew would've been a terrible idea it seems. Everyone here seems to make fun of you for being smart, unless it benefits them in some way. Not sure why being "dumb" is a popular thing, but I guess it is. I got sent to the Guidance Counselor to get my locker assignment and an assignment notebook for the school to write down assignments and all that junk. Turns out, it's also a Hall Pass of sorts. You get the teacher to sign it out for you before you leave the room. Kind of frivolous that we need to do that in the first place, but whatever.

It wasn't long before we got to my least favorite subject of the day: History. It was almost always boring for me, since I never really see any sort of practical applications for it, other than knowing how catastrophically we all messed up. Oh well, time for me to just sort of zone out for a moment or two. I sense myself drifting off before I see someone sitting in front of me. He's got long, red dreadlocks and is talking to a blue hedgehog boy. The dreadlocked echidna looks toward me and gives an awkward smile. I reciprocate. "Sorry" I apologize, looking away from him. He nods and goes back to his idle chit chat with the other hedgehog boy.

After class was over, I shuffled to my locker to put my unneeded books away. Of course, right across from me was that same boy with the long, red dreadlocks. They cascaded down his back seemingly effortlessly, and I was admiring their neatness for a moment. I turned back to my locker and grabbed my remaining notebooks. English and Biology. Biology was at least easy for me, so there wasn't any worries in that regard. I trudged on to class while listening to music again. As soon as I sat in my seat... There he was. He walked into the same class as me. Did... Did we share more than one class?

Knuckles' POV:

There was that boy again! Black and red quills, perfectly styled and everything. He had on what would be considered as "Emo clothes", so a few of my dickhead friends were already making fun of him. I decided I wanted to be nice to this new kid and sat down next to him this time. I faced him, and he looked a little skittish. But I think he warmed up to me fairly quick.

"Hey there. Name's Knuckles. I'm one of the more... 'Popular' kids. Whatever that means, right? And you are?" I ask, extending the invitation for him to speak.

"... Shadow. Good to meet you, Knuckles" Shadow says with a weak smile. "I think 'Popular' means that you're well liked enough for people to not make fun of you or somethin'" he says, finishing his trail of thought.

I smile a bit at Shadow. He seems to lower any sort of hostility or suspicion by now and just sits by me quietly. I notice that whenever he's not taking notes or answering the teacher's questions, he's doodling in his notebook. They were actually really decent drawings as well. I asked him if he's ever taken an art course, and he nods. "Your art's really good!" I say enthusiastically. He blushes a little and flashes a... Handsome smile to me. I blush as well. Damn it, this boy was kind of cute. Well, now I had to get to know him a little bit.

"This may seem kinda random, but what lunch period do you have today?" I ask.

"Lunch 2. Why?" Shadow asks.

"Oh nice! Me too! We should find each other and sit together. Talk, just the two of us, perhaps?" I ask.

Shadow blushes a little, clearly off guard. He croaks out "Sure" and now after this class, I had that to look forward to. Biology felt like it couldn't go any freaking slower than it was right now. I smelt Shadow's cologne, and it was all too enticing. I don't know what scent he had on but damn it, I felt like I wanted to just throw myself at him. But alas, that would be frowned upon.

FINALLY, the bell rang.

Shadow's POV:

Why did Knuckles want to sit with me of all people? Why was he staring at me the way that he was in Bio class? Whatever the matter, I sat down at a seat closest to a window with my homemade lunch. Mom always knew what to put in to make my day. A nice turkey and cheese club with some chips, fruit snacks and water. Knuckles came walking to my table with the school lunch and sat down right next to me. He seemed rather... Excited to sit with me. He was grinning a bit, as he asked me if I brought that lunch from home. "Yes. It's all mine" I teased, making him fake pout. I giggled... Damn it, he's kind of cute. I sigh and relent, giving him some chips and fruit snacks as compensation for giving me company. Knuckles smiles at me and thanks me. We talk about school stuff for a while, before we start getting into the nitty gritty of life stuff.

"So, I'm a football player. Linebacker to be specific. Also do cross country. Thinking of signing up for any clubs or sports?" Knuckles asks, taking a bite of his food.

"Nice. I'll have to go to one of your games" I tease, making him nudge my arm playfully. "I may sign up for Drama actually. Something about it just calls to me" I say, playfully fluffing up my quills.

"Then I'll just have to go to one of your shows. I bet you'll be great" Knuckles replies, wrapping a friendly arm around me.

After lunch was over, I went to the Guidance Counselor, asking how I could sign up for the Drama club. He smiled at me and handed me a clipboard that was only so full. Of course, there were a bunch of girls names on there, with maybe 2 or 3 other guys. I put mine on there, and the counselor told me that the Drama teacher was an incredible director and teacher & that I was in good hands.

Once school ended, I went home. Mom wasn't home yet, so it was just me and my dad. He was on the couch watching a wrestling match. As soon as he heard me walk through the door, he asked me how my first day at school was.

"I made a new friend, so I guess it went well enough" I reply.

"That's great! Who is he?" my dad asks excitedly.

"Knuckles. Knuckles the Echidna-"

"The football kid?! Holy shit. That IS good news. Keep up being friendly with him and you'll pretty much have an easy ride through school!" my dad replied, interrupting my train of thought.

I ask my dad how he knows Knuckles and how he knew he was in football. My dad told me that Knuckles was in football for as long as 7th grade. He knew because the 8th grade coach was a good friend of his and they'd go for drinks together. They'd talk about football and the kids they thought could go Pro & Knuckles' name kept coming up.

Later that night... Dad wasn't so friendly though. At the dinner table, I told my parents that I was signed up for Drama club. He slammed his fists down on the table. "First it was Dance, now THIS? No way. No son of mine is gonna be some 'Theatre Kid'" he said angrily. "I will if it makes me happy" I muttered. My dad has a tendency to have an explosive temper. So, with my food still piping hot, he sent me up to my room with no dinner for the night... After slapping me across the face a few times. While I cried, he yelled, "You DARE disrespect me?!"

I charged up to my room after he yelled at me to do so & slammed the door. Then he came up to me again and... Punched me.

"You wanna slam doors like that?! You'll do that when you move into a place of your own. Not in MY house" he said threateningly.

"I... HATE YOU" I scream.

"I HATE YOU TOO. YOU THINK I WANTED TO HAVE YOU?" my dad screamed in reply.

For some reason, this time around when he said it, it REALLY hurt me. Perhaps it was the punch that he already landed to me but I started to cry once he shut the door. I just tried to dress the black eye, but it was causing some pain. My mom helped me later on and expressed her anger toward my dad.

"He should never lay his hands on you like that. I swear, I am so done with him" My mom said in a hissing sort of tone. She asked me if I'd like to live with her, since she's the one who paid for the house. I smiled and hugged her, saying that would be wonderful. She smiled back and rustled through my quills in such a way. I.. Purred softly. It felt relieving. She giggled and told me that she was already talking to a lawyer, but tonight's incident was just pushing her further. She and I talked more before she left my room to let me sleep.

Part 2: ( Here )

Part 3: ( Here )

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

Tell me a story about a toucan looking at scissors.

The phrase "A toucan looks at scissors" came to me in a dream last night. I don't know what it means, but here are some fragments of the dream itself:

I was wandering around an art museum with my friend Avery, and we were trying to find our way out into sunlight (it must have been morning). We got lost inside one room full of tall glass cases containing various kinds of sculptures, most of them pretty ugly but not all -- there was one case that contained only very beautiful things (and as usual, when this happened in real life, it is more impressive in the dream because it happens so much). ("Look," said Avery, pointing at something he found particularly striking; "they even made you like it!" And indeed they had.) There were also plenty of ugly things on display which weren't worth commenting on except for how funny it seemed that so many different sculptural styles could be displayed alongside each other without anyone finding any of them especially compelling.

Anyway, eventually we managed to leave the building through a door hidden behind two or three framed prints (the idea being that if you can see the print, you can turn your head sideways enough to look between them), then went outside and began walking down a street near campus. The road was flanked by trees whose leaves looked like brightly-colored mosaics, but once again, I didn't think about why they looked like mosaic tiles until after waking up from the dream.

We saw people who had turned themselves into animals and gone on walks while doing so. They wore these white suits over their clothing, sometimes with parts of their hair tied back, and had little paws instead of hands. They walked slowly along the pavement, looking kind of dazed and sleepy. In another dream long ago, someone told me that this was normal behavior among transformers, since they needed to regain strength before transforming again.

Then suddenly we noticed that everyone else on the walk was also wearing white animal costumes. It was late autumn, and the streetside grasses were still greenish underfoot. Most of us were dressed like cats or dogs, though some others were birds or reptiles. As far as I recall, no one was human anymore. Someone asked where we should go next. "To the zoo?" suggested Avery. He was a dog. Soon we arrived at a large park area covered mostly in dense vegetation, and scattered throughout the woods and fields were numerous small shacks or cabins that looked like they might be inhabited. These buildings were built roughly according to whatever style they felt like following at the time. One had a rustic roof, another was just a box shaped like a birdhouse, etc., but none resembled anything used as a dwelling today. All were painted in primary colors, except for one that appeared to be gray concrete, and several that were decorated with murals depicting the process of transformation from personhood to animalness. I remember seeing someone change into an eagle in front of one of those murals. Inside the buildings were various tools for making transformations happen, including some sort of strange contraption involving jars labeled "Eggs." None of the transformations took place immediately upon entering the structure, but rather required sitting quietly in a chair for a few minutes first. Someone would ask if you wanted to become a cat, and if you did, they would lay their hand against your forehead and wait patiently for the magic to work its effects. This whole scene reminded me strongly of the world of Robert Heinlein novels, although I couldn't explain why, exactly.

[nel-world]

hi

Opening: Setting the Scene]

"Thank you, thank you! It’s great to be here tonight. You know, growing up in an Indian household, you get used to some weird stuff—like all the spices in the kitchen that double as medicine. ‘Oh, you have a headache? Just rub some turmeric on it!’ But the weirdest thing in our house was this massive double-sided drum called the Mridangam. You guys know this thing? It’s like a drum that’s trying to cosplay as a medieval weapon."

"My parents were obsessed with the idea that I’d become some Mridangam prodigy. ‘Beta, this will make you unique.’ Yeah, unique like the kid who shows up at band practice with a drum that looks like it belongs in Game of Thrones. My friends are all playing electric guitars, and I’m over here like, ‘Guys, anyone need a Mridangam solo?’ It’s like showing up to a Formula 1 race with a bullock cart."

[Story 1: Learning the Mridangam] (3 minutes)

"So my parents signed me up for lessons. Every Saturday morning, while my friends were outside playing cricket, I was stuck in a room with my Mridangam teacher—this ancient dude who looked like he was carved out of stone. He’d sit there all serious, ‘Play ta dhin dhin na,’ like we’re rehearsing for the world’s most intense yoga session."

"My mom used to bribe me with sweets to keep me going. ‘Play well today, and I’ll get you an extra gulab jamun.’ I’m sitting there, playing like my life depends on it because it does. I’m drumming for dessert, people! It’s not art; it’s survival. And then you’ve got to explain this drum to your friends. They’re all like, ‘Hey, I play bass guitar. What about you?’ And I’m like, ‘Yeah, I play the Mridangam. It’s like a drum but… less portable and way more syllables.’ Not exactly winning me any street cred."

[Anecdote: The Performance Disaster] (2 minutes)

"One time, my mom made me perform at this big family function. I’m up there with my Mridangam, ready to show everyone what I’ve got. Halfway through, my hands start cramping. I’m doing this weird dance trying to shake it out while still keeping the beat. The audience thinks it’s part of the act. My cousin’s like, ‘Wow, he’s drumming and doing interpretive dance. It’s so avant-garde.’ No, dude, I just forgot to stretch."

[Introducing Tablaguy: Unexpected Rivalry] (3 minutes)

"Now, every Mridangam player has a nemesis, and mine was this kid who played the tabla. We called him ‘Tablaguy.’ You know this type—he’s the dude with the two tiny drums that look like they were made to balance your groceries. But don’t be fooled—Tablaguy was fierce. He’d show up with his tabla set, all smug, like he’s holding the keys to the universe. And his fingers? They moved faster than my brain when my teacher asked me a question."

"We’d have these mini drum-offs in class. Tablaguy would start his tabla beats, all rapid-fire ‘Dha tete terekete,’ like he’s solving a calculus problem with his hands. I’m sitting there with my Mridangam, trying to keep up like, ‘Ta dhin dhin na… don’t fail me now.’ The whole class is watching like it’s some kind of drum-themed Mortal Kombat."

"And then there’s the show-off moves. Tablaguy’s always doing this fancy finger dance, like he’s conducting a symphony of tiny, invisible musicians. Meanwhile, I’m struggling with my Mridangam, trying to make it sound cool but ending up looking like I’m fighting off an invisible swarm of bees. One time, he finishes this crazy fast beat, and the whole room’s like, ‘Wow, so impressive!’ I’m just sitting there, sweating bullets, like, ‘Yeah, but can you do this?’ And then I just play the exact same thing, but slower… and with way more fear."

[Story 2: The Drum Ensemble Disaster] (3 minutes)

"One day, my Mridangam teacher had the bright idea to form a drum ensemble. So there’s me, Mr. Mridangam, joined by Tablaguy, a dholak player who just looked like he wandered in from a Punjabi wedding, and this kid with a Cajón—basically a box drum that’s also his chair. We were like the Avengers of percussion, except none of us had superpowers… just a lot of rhythm and a ton of confusion."

"We’re supposed to create this fusion piece, but it ends up sounding like a traffic jam in Mumbai. The tabla guy is tapping away like he’s coding the Matrix, the dholak dude’s beating his drum like it’s a family dispute, and I’m stuck in the middle trying to keep some kind of order. At one point, Tablaguy just starts doing his own thing, and my teacher’s like, ‘Guys, this is supposed to be a duet, not a drum battle!’ But there we are, in full-on battle mode, fingers flying, sweat dripping, and nobody knows what the hell we’re playing."

[Unexpected Situations with Mridangam] (2 minutes)

"Carrying these drums around is a nightmare. You think playing Mridangam is hard? Try carrying it. You’re walking around with a drum so big it needs its own seat on the bus. I brought it to school once for cultural day, and all the kids are showing off their tiny, cute instruments—flutes, violins. Then there’s me, dragging this Mridangam like I’m trying to smuggle in a sacred artifact."

"One time, I thought it would be a great idea to bring it to a party. Everyone’s vibing to the DJ, and I’m thinking, ‘This is my moment.’ I sit down, cross-legged, and start playing ‘Ta dhin dhin na.’ Everyone stops like I’ve just thrown a wet blanket on their good time. My friend yells, ‘Bro, this is a party, not the halftime show of the Mahabharata.’ Yeah, apparently, Mridangam is not the ultimate party starter."

[Shobhit Banwait Cameo] (3 minutes)

"And then I discovered Shobhit Banwait, the tabla guy who makes every song sound like it belongs in a Bollywood blockbuster. Have you seen this guy? He’s playing Drake’s ‘In My Feelings’ with tabla beats like it’s the hottest thing since butter chicken. I thought, ‘Man, if Shobhit can do this with tabla, maybe I can do something cool with Mridangam.’ Spoiler alert: No, I could not."

"So, inspired by Shobhit, I tried to do my own Mridangam remix of ‘Despacito.’ I’m in my room, setting up my Mridangam like I’m about to drop the hottest Carnatic-Latin fusion of all time. I hit play on the song and start drumming along, but it sounds less like a remix and more like two different cultures having a nervous breakdown. Shobhit makes tabla look cool. I make Mridangam look like it’s begging for mercy."

"Tablaguy saw one of my videos and goes, ‘Bro, leave it to the professionals like Shobhit. You’re making Mridangam look like it needs therapy.’ And I’m like, ‘Man, I’m just trying to be the Shobhit of Mridangam.’ But no, it’s not that easy. The guy’s a wizard, and I’m just here making a mess of beats like I’m auditioning for a role in an off-Broadway drum circle."

[Dance Routine Bit with Drum Instruments] (3 minutes)

"Playing all these drums is not just music—it’s a workout. Mridangam is like Pilates for your fingers, Tabla is like an extreme typing test, and Dholak? That’s arm day. My hands are moving faster than my brain, and at one point, I’m pretty sure I invented a new form of dance: Drum Zumba. I’m tapping rhythms while my legs are trying to stay balanced, and people are watching like, ‘Is this a performance or a cry for help?’"

"And when all three drums are playing together? It’s like a chaotic symphony. The Mridangam’s doing ‘Ta dhin dhin dha,’ the Tabla’s tapping out its ‘Terekita thom,’ and the Dholak’s just going rogue like it’s in the middle of a Bhangra battle. At one point, we looked like we were in a drum fight club, each one trying to out-beat the other, and my fingers are moving so fast, they’re about to file a worker’s comp claim."

[Beat Battles: Mridangam vs. Modern Beats] (3 minutes)

"But the best was when I decided to take my Mridangam skills to a beat battle. Yeah, I know. I’m at my high school talent show, and I’m up against this DJ who’s got his turntables, synth pads—the works. He starts spinning this heavy bass track, and I’m sitting there thinking, ‘You’re not ready for this Mridangam magic.’ So I jump in with my ‘Ta dhin dhin na,’ building it up like I’m about to summon the rain gods."

"The crowd’s losing it because they don’t know what’s happening. It’s like watching an ancient drum face-off with modern technology. The DJ’s doing his thing, and I’m countering with every beat I know. At one point, we’re just staring each other down, like it’s a rap battle but with fewer lyrics and way more confused spectators. We didn’t win, but we definitely gave the judges a lot to think about. Or maybe they were just thinking, ‘Never invite these guys again.’"

[Rap Routine with Drums] (2 minutes)

(Starts rapping with beats from Mridangam, Tabla, and Dholak in the background): "Yeah, it’s the drum squad, we’re breaking all the norms, Mridangam on the beat, it’s a classical storm, Tabla’s keeping pace with the double taps and rolls, Dholak’s in the back, slapping beats like it’s goals. Parents said, ‘Beta, learn something grand,’ But here I am drumming with the dopest band. We don’t need a DJ, got rhythm in our hands, Making beats with tradition, yeah, we’re our own brand."

"And when you’re rapping over Mridangam, it’s like blending the best of both worlds—a little bit of tradition, a little bit of trap, and a whole lot of confused looks from your neighbors."

[Closing] (2 minutes)

"So that’s my journey with Mridangam—awkward performances, unexpected dance moves, beat battles, and the endless rivalry with Tablaguy. I’ve learned that Mridangam may not be the coolest instrument, but it’s definitely the most confusing. It’s not just music; it’s an experience, a workout, and occasionally, a complete social disaster. But hey, I’ve made it work—one awkward beat at a time. So next time you hear a Mridangam, just know that somewhere, someone is trying really hard to make it cool. And if you hear an offbeat rhythm… yeah, that’s probably me."

[casspurrjoybell-29]

Forging Ties - Chapter 9 - Part 2

*Warning - Adult Content*  

Once they were outside, Hamish drew a breath in through his teeth and tightened the strings on his coat to ward off the chill.

"You're quite the social butterfly when you want to be."

"Well, those people were kind enough to let me work my charms on them, unlike some people I could mention."

He tried to give Hamish a glare but couldn't help the smile that crept onto his lips.

Hamish chuckled.

"Ah, except your charms clearly have worked on me, even if it took you a while to figure out the best strategy."

Duran's smile faded and he shook his head.

"I'm not trying to manipulate you anymore, Hamish. I mean, when we first met I was but not now. You know that right?"

"I do," Hamish replied. "But it's still a little unsettling to see how well you can put on a show. You looked happier than I'd ever seen you in there, smiling away at everyone. If I didn't know you, I might have thought you were genuinely enjoying yourself."

Duran shrugged.

"I guess it's something that comes with the territory. As much as I hate to stereotype, I think it's fair to say that slaves are often good at pretending to be something they're not. Except for Fanner, maybe. That sweet boy never could quite master the art of pretending."

"I've seen plenty of that before, of course. You're just exceptionally good at it."

"Am I?" Duran asked. "Or am I just so exceptionally candid when I'm not doing it that it stands out?"

Hamish let out a long breath.

"Now there's a question."

"Never trust anyone who's always happy, who never says no and always tells you what you want to hear. They're either a snake like me or they don't know how to stand up for themselves. Either way, the truth will come out eventually and you won't like it."

"Maybe that should be my rule," Hamish said. "No sex with ex-slaves unless they're willing and able to tell me to go fuck myself."

Duran raised an eyebrow.

"You really do like your rules, don't you?"

"Well, to be honest, I'm not very good at saying no," Hamish admitted.

"And speaking of my insatiable sex drive, I was planning on spending the night with Roman and Eli. Care to join us?"

"Hmm," Duran said. "Three times the human? Yes, I think I will."

"You don't mind group sex, then?"

Duran shrugged.

"I don't know if it's fair to ask me if I like things that I've only experienced in bad ways. Do I like it? I don't know. Maybe? I suppose if it's like what we did before but more, then why not?"

"I understand," Hamish said. "I know you hate it when I fuss over you but I just want to make sure you're comfortable."

Duran let out a deep sigh.

"It's fine, Hamish. I give you a hard time but I'll admit that I know I don't have to worry about being outnumbered in a situation like this because you're on my side and you're so annoyingly caring that there's no room to doubt that. I know you won't get caught up in things and stop caring about me. So thank you, asshole."

"Aww, you're welcome," Hamish said, grinning.

"That's not encouragement for you to do it more," Duran warned. "It's still annoying."

"Uh Huh."

Duran groaned.

"You'll never stop now, will you?"

"Well..." Hamish said, his grin widening. "Nah."

"Fuck."

With the help of Duran's mage-light, they found the way to the path they'd first entered through and followed it.

"Huh?" Hamish said when they came to the clearing and found the naked woman still sitting on the ground in front of the stone monument, surrounded by the Fae exactly as she had been when they'd last seen her.

Cookie was laying on the other side of the stone, sprawled out on the ground.

"Is this... okay?" Duran asked as Hamish set the basket down and Cookie wandered over to check out her dinner.

"Is she okay?"

"She's fine," a voice said, and Duran jumped as he looked up to see Kit standing next to the woman.

"I mean, she's naked in this weather. She'd be dead if she wasn't being protected."

Hamish watched as Cookie crammed fistfuls of vegetable scraps into her mouth.

"We've fed Cookie enough to get a conversation out of you, have we?"

"When I feel like it," Kit said. "I've been talking to her, to Vonnie. Seeing what she's seeing. They're trying to understand the Fae."

"Are they succeeding?"

Kit shrugged.

"It's confusing and chaotic, like what might happen to your brain if you took every hallucinogenic drug at once. It's like... well, I was going to say it's like when you open a random file type as a text document and it just gives you a bunch of random symbols and letters that make no sense at all but I guess neither of you would understand that, so never mind. It's like we're trying to interpret something that our brains were never designed to understand."

"I don't know what any of that means but I like your funny words," Hamish said.

He emptied the rest of the vegetable scraps out of the basket onto the ground, then turned to Duran.

"Ready to head back?"

Duran nodded.

"Our new human friends better have waited for us."

"Oh, I'm sure they have."

[euphoriabled]

@forwardmoved sent:

a tentative ,  exploratory kiss between friends .  ( Ruth & Peter )

Last week was the big day; the day everything was supposed to change. As of last Saturday, Ruth’s longest relationship had finally ended: she no longer needed her headgear. The twelve hours of daily torture were finally over, and she could finally stop worrying about her hair getting caught in the wiring. Her parents, somehow both overly excited and fully out of touch with their daughter, told her to invite some friends over for a party to celebrate. Yeah, thanks dad. I’m sure everyone wants to come celebrate my teeth. That’s not embarrassing at all. 

It wasn’t as if they were going to listen to her anyway, though. So, Ruth invited all of her closest friends: Richie, Grace, Reese, and Pete. Grace couldn’t make it because Ruth’s party was on a Sunday, but the others could -- so she did her best to be a good host. Personal pizzas for everyone; no cheese on hers, but extra cheese on Reese’s. Her parents insisted that she tell everyone to pack a swimsuit now that their apartment complex had finished renovating the pool area. And while she did, she heavily hinted that they’d probably just stick to watching a movie and eating pizza. 

After the movie ended, Reese left -- for a cheese lover, she sure had one hell of an intolerance. And after ice cream, Richie had to pack up too -- film camp and anime expo were practically back-to-back and he had to pack. His parents were so cool to go to LA with him for something like that. Her parents just didn’t get the nerdy stuff she was into. She was bummed -- just a bit -- as it was her first semi-cool party and she was hoping she could try playing one of those party games that involve getting kissed. They were always in the movies -- 

13 Going On 30 came to mind.

She used to sit criss-cross applesauce in the living room watching that movie back in middle school. She always wanted to know if one of her friends was secretly her Mark Ruffalo in disguise. If everyone except for one person had left, she’d be brave and ask if anyone wanted to play. The odds were in her favor; they were all a little desperate.

It was just her and Pete now; handsome, helpful Pete. Her party playlist was still going as they cleaned up the empty plates and half-finished milkshakes. She couldn’t seem to look him in the eye; all her thoughts about being alone with someone causing her heart to race. God, she was pathetic. It’s not like anyone would think of her like that; even if her smile was perfect now. Still, she could ask. God, she could ask. She could always say it was a prank. That’s what those creepy losers on YouTube do, right? They say it’s a prank?

              ❝ You know, now that I don’t have to wear that medieval torture device for half the day, my chances of having my first kiss just skyrocketed from zero to ... four percent? ❞ Ruth says, somewhat hopefully as she puts the leftover cookie-cake into some Tupperware.

              ❝ Have you had yours yet, Pete? Maybe we could practice, so -- so, um, so we’re good at it when it really counts. I wouldn’t tell anyone. I know Richie would get all weird and commission ship art or something -- and I’m sure you wouldn’t, like, y’know ... want anyone to know, so. Um, do you want to ...? ❞ Ruth takes a deep breath and does her best impression of someone who can be assertive. ❝ You -- You should sit on the couch with me, and, um, and we should kiss. It wouldn’t really count since we’re friends and it only really counts if it’s someone you have a crush on, so it’s basically like playing the tutorial first instead of jumping right into a ranked game. ❞

---

Somehow, after some conversation -- they were sitting there. On her couch. About to kiss. And every cell in Ruth’s body was overflowing with nerves and excitement; Pete Spankoffski was just about the cutest nerd in school, which was kind of like it’s own level of popularity ... if you really thought about it for a while. Her hands were shaking slightly, so she folded them on her lap, so he couldn’t tell. She makes eye contact with him briefly, but her cheeks heat up and she has to look away. Thank God, she thinks. Thank God people kiss with their eyes closed.

              ❝ A-are you ready, Petey? ❞ There was no turning back. They were doing this for science; for the betterment of their social lives and for self-improvement. And she was going to know, in just a moment, if he was her Mark Ruffalo. She moves one of her hands to touch his cheek; did they do this in movies so they could aim better while they leaned in? It felt right. She took a small breath and closed her eyes as she moved closer; vaguely knowing where to go, due to her hand placement. Their lips connect and Ruth remembers what it felt like to see fireworks for the first time. She feels sparks. So, this was human connection. This was what it was all about. She understood. GOD, she understood!

She deepens the kiss; all those years of watching corny romance movies finally doing her a favor. It’s awkward; it’s foreign; it’s a little clumsy, but she’s doing her best. Her hand drifts to his hair, she wants to wrap her fingers around it; memorize it, but she knows she has to pull back. Knows this is her last kiss for a long time. Knows this is probably the best things are gonna get til she finally gets that “glow up” people always talk about.

Maybe she should start listening to subliminals again.

              ❝ Would you, um. ❞ Ruth finds herself laughing nervously, backing up on the couch and playing with the hem of her sweater as she speaks. ❝ Would you want to try that again sometime, um, for practice? And stuff? It’s, ha, it’s totally cool if not. ❞