#anyway. time to listen to paramore

[acaesic]

hayleeeyyyyyyyy :3333

[deliciousmicroplastics]

New phone whoa whoa

[sacr1ficialang3l]

Somewhere in the thoroughfare˚୨୧⋆｡ 

OLDER!DEAN WINCHESTER X YOUNGER!READER

SUMMARY: Dean and reader embark on a journey to see the west. They drive for hours upon hours, but reader knows the perfect way to distract Dean for a while. 2.9k

WARNINGS: smut (MDNI). oral m receiving. getting a blow job while driving. do not try this at home kids. age gap.

NOTES: Daddy is back! It took me a long time because I haven't been very inspired lately, sorry I disappeared for a bit. I am still not an expert in writing smut, I will learn one day I promise. Anyway, another one of my little self-indulgent fantasies for you all. As always, English is not my first language. Enjoy<3

Summer this year was hot and sticky, all humid air and warm sunlight.

It had been miraculously quiet in the supernatural world for the past few weeks, and Dean decided it was the perfect time to take his pretty girl for vacation. He had noticed that you were a little down lately, a little less smiley and your eyes a little less sparkly. You were good at hiding it, but Dean knew that the hunting life was hard on you sometimes. He had gotten used to it after so many years, barely feeling the ache in his bones and the weight on his shoulders anymore, but when he held you in his arms while you cried your pretty eyes out one night, he decided you two needed a break.

He got his credit card ready, picturing five-star hotels and bustling city nights. He was even willing to board a plane just for you. Anything for his sweet girl. So one night, when he was letting you talk about your favorite pop artists—

"So, this Taylor Swift album–"

"Oh, please. Don’t torture me like this, princess. I swear music died in the '90s."

"Shut up and listen, old man. Let me introduce you to peak lyricism."

He interrupts you and explains his plan, asking you to choose any destination.

Imagine his surprise when instead of asking for anything he thought, you chose a road trip.

“Really, sweetheart? All we do is be on the road.”

“I know, but never without the burden of hunting. I wanna drive around with you, no guns or monsters, just us and your other baby.”

“Aren’t you tired of it? Don’t get me wrong, I am thrilled not to get into a plane, but this is for you. We can go anywhere you want, baby.”

“I could never get tired of it. In your car, with all of your dumb luck, is the only place I’ll ever wanna be.”

Dean stares at you for a long moment, eyes a little clouded with something intense, something that makes your insides burn.

“How can you be so perfect?” that makes you giggle, biting your lip and looking up at your boyfriend. “So, where are we going, love?”

“I don’t really care as long as you're with me.”

“Come on. There must be somewhere you wanna go, anywhere.”

“What about Oregon? Oh, but I would also love to drive down Big Sur with you. But what about–”

You were interrupted by Dean’s gruff laughter.

“I think I get the point. We have no time limit, I know how we can visit all the places you want.”

Dean grabbed your waist and pulled you on top of him, letting his hands –so callused from his pistol– brush down your lower back as he pulled you as close as possible.

“Come see the west with me, sweetheart.”

You are somewhere in north Oregon, almost in Washington. You had tried to convince Dean to take you to Forks, but the moment the word Twilight came out of your mouth he refused. (He ends up driving you there a week later, begrudgingly letting you take the aux and play Paramore the whole time you are in there.)

It is one week into your vacation, and the summer heat has only gotten worse. You and Dean are driving down a lonely road towards a little cabin you rented—it was in the middle of the woods and looked extremely homey. You were thrilled when you found it, even though explaining to Dean how Airbnb worked was an ordeal, considering he had only ever stayed in shitty motels without ever making a reservation or entering credit cards in some website.— You are planning to stay there for at least a week before resuming your journey to California.

So right now, you two are surrounded only by the trees, the setting sun, and the extremely hot air. The wind through the window is thick and muggy, clinging to your skin as you rest across the front seat of the Impala. Your socked feet dig into Dean’s thigh, and your head dangles out the window, hair catching the breeze, whipping gently around your face. Your eyes are closed while you tap your hand against your bare leg along with the beat of one of Dean’s rock songs, enjoying the way one of his hands is wrapped around your ankle.

You still find it astonishing that even in this weather, Dean is wearing his usual jeans and black shirt. At least you had convinced him to drop the flannel. You are the complete opposite, dressed in short shorts that barely hit your upper thigh and a white tank top with no bra on. You told him it was because wearing one made you sweat more when he asked, but the truth is that you liked the way Dean stared at the outline of your nipple piercings through the thin material of your almost translucent top, eyes hungry and feral.

You tilt your head up to look at your boyfriend when he starts singing along, his voice barely audible over the wind on your ears. There he is, knowing every lyric of a song released many years before you were born, his crow's feet even more pronounced as a relaxed smile settled on his face, the rough skin of his fingers brushing up and down your calf.

He catches you looking at him, and he gives you one of his signature smug grins.

“See something you like, sweetheart?”

“Oh, definitely.” You say flirtily, pulling your head back inside of the car and half-closing your window to eliminate some of the whistling.

Dean chuckles, and once again, you’re struck by how incredibly handsome he is. His elbow rests casually on the edge of his open window as he grips the steering wheel with ease. The setting sun casts a warm glow over him, making his green eyes practically glow. The veins on his forearms stand out, and the black shirt clings tightly to his chest and biceps.

At the end of the day, you are just a girl, so you lean forward and sink your teeth into the strong muscle of his arm. God, it was so big, almost as big as your head. Dean hisses a bit at the pain but doesn’t pull away, too used to your shenanigans.

“Is this what vampire movies did to your generation?” He grumbles when you let go of his flesh, but his expression softens when he hears you giggle while you admire your work.

There’s a deep set of teeth marks on his bicep—a perfect imprint of your canines. He pretended to be annoyed when you bit him, but he actually relished in bearing your mark. Because he is as yours as you are his.

“Nope, you’re just biteable.”

That makes him snort and shake his head fondly. You look at him again, now closer, and you have to bite your lip at how hot your boyfriend is. This older, experienced, kind, sweet man… all for you. You are so lucky.

A great idea strikes you. You check the GPS on your phone, (Dean refused to use it, saying that he knew how to find his way everywhere with just a map) According to it, you’ve got at least another hour on this empty road. Perfect.

You shuffle around in the bench seat of the Impala until the point of your feet are pressed against the car door, knees bent comfortably as you let your head fall down into Dean’s lap. He is a little startled at first, sending you a confused look. But you simply beam at him sweetly, staring into his eyes from between his torso and the steering wheel. He laughs, brushing some hair out of your face with his free hand.

You wait for a few minutes before putting your plan into action. The moment Dean’s eyes are extra focused on the road, his fingers drumming along to some song you think is by Led Zeppelin (you are learning, for him), you tilt your head to the side and press your cheek against his crotch.

Dean’s movements halt for a second, and he sends you a warning look.

“What do you think you're doing, sweetheart?”

You say nothing, giggling softly and nuzzling against his clothed dick again. The fabric of the denim was rough, and it burned your skin just right. You start to feel how Dean slowly starts to harden under you, and you start to leave soft kisses all over his upper thighs and over the growing bulge.

“Baby, I am serious.” He calls out your name when you don’t stop. “I am driving, for god's sake.”

You catch the edge of the waistline of his jeans in between your teeth, pulling at it softly before you look up at Dean, all doe eyes and fluttering lashes.

“You’ve been driving for hours. Let me give you a little thank-you, baby.”

Dean groans, both his hands now in the steering wheel, like he was scared to lose control. He licks his lips, thinking for a moment with an almost pained expression.

“You’re so… I’m gonna lose my damn mind.” He murmurs, more to himself than to you. “I won’t stop you, but just know that if we crash against some fucking tree it will be your fault.”

You giggle and proceed to unbutton his jeans and pull down the zipper. You lick a long strip across his now completely hard cock over his boxers. It makes Dean’s breath hitch, and his hips twitch subtly under you. You keep mouthing at the bulge over the thin fabric of the underwear until it is completely soaked with spit.

“Come on, darling.” Dean grunts. “Don’t be a tease.”

You use your hands to pull his erection out of his underwear. It is a little cramped and less than ideal in the small space you have, but you manage to pull his pants down enough so that his cock stands proudly in front of you, long and hard and wet with your spit.

You shift in the seat of the impala once again until you are laying on your stomach, feet kicking in the air playfully as if you were doing the most innocent of things instead of about to blow your boyfriend while he drove.

You brush your tongue against the throbbing tip of Dean’s dick, collecting the precum already there into your mouth. You hear Dean groan distantly, but your head was getting a little hazy already. You loved sucking Dean’s cock. He fit so right in your mouth, the weight and taste of him in your tongue so perfect that you felt dizzy with it. You could spend hours with him nuzzled against your throat, suckling and swallowing around him.

You give kitten licks to the whole length, getting him sloppy and ready. The moment the tip slides in between your lips, Dean lets out the first low moan. It was heavy and husky, and you absolutely loved it. You take him deeper into your mouth, starting to bop your head up and down.

“Fuck, yes. So good, so– ah, so fucking good for me, baby.”

You can feel his eyes on you, and you lean away slightly, his cock sliding out of your mouth with a wet pop.

“Eyes on the road, Dean.” There is a string of saliva connecting your lips and Dean’s dick, and the image makes him curse, his jaw clenching as his eyes flick back up.

You take him inside your mouth again, deeper this time. You breathe in through your nose before you sink in further, until he hits the back of your throat. It makes Dean grunt loudly, but it quickly turns into an extended moan as the warm walls of your throat contract around him.

“Mmnh— you feel so good, baby. You were made for this. Such a tight, warm little mouth just for me. Such, ah, such a good girl, taking my cock so deep. Fuck.”

Dean’s knuckles are white where he is holding the wheel for dear life. You hum at the praises, and Dean lets out a choked whine at the vibrations that throbbed through his length, cock twitching and more precum dribbling out of his tip.

You feel your mind spin a little at Dean’s words and the sweet feeling of him so deeply settled into your mouth. You brush your tongue against the underside of his cock, and it is messy. You’re almost desperate with it, drool dribbling past your lips and down Dean’s balls. He hiss at the feeling and throws his head back for just one second before his eyes return to the road.

“You love cock so much, don’t you?” He growls, strangled. “So fucking sloppy and messy. My pretty girl all needy for me.”

You whimper around him at his words, and you start to suck with renewed vigour. Slurping around Dean’s length and letting out pleased noises every time he hit the back of your throat. He keeps murmuring filthy words at you, fighting the way his hips desperately wanted to thrust into your mouth.

Seriously, you are lucky he has so much self control and doesn’t end up flipping the car.

“Yeah, just like that, sweetheart. I’m– a-ah, I'm close. Make me come in your mouth, baby.”

You pull back a bit, wanting Dean to come on your tongue— you want to taste it, savor the way it coats your tongue with a flavor that you can only describe as Dean. You use your fist to jerk whatever is left out of your mouth, and when your tongue presses into his slit, his cock pulses and he comes.

Dean’s groan is guttural and desperate, fighting to keep his eyes open and his hands firmly on the wheel. Thick ropes of cum fall onto your tongue, and you let out a contented little hum. You lap it all up, eyes rolling back in satisfaction. You swallow around his cock, prolonging his orgasm and making him twitch one last time. Even after he stops coming, you keep suckling around the head of his cock. Dean hisses in overstimulation.

“That’s enough, princess.” He pants, pulling you away by the hair. The combination of the pain and the lack of dick makes you whine. “Stop, or I am seriously crashing the car.”

You lick your lips as you try to catch your breath. You somehow look even worse than Dean did, eyes teary and lips puffy. There was spit dripping down your chin and your breathing was ragged. Your cheek is red and itchy where it rubbed against his jeans, but you love the feeling.

You blink at Dean twice, the fog in your mind slowly dissipating and a proud little grin taking over your face instead.

“I love the way you taste.” You murmur dreamily, and it makes Dean glare at you as he groans.

“You need to stop saying things like that before I pull over and fucking ravish you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” You wink at him, moving until you are sitting correctly on the car seat.

Dean scoffs and rolls his eyes, but there is a pleased smile on his face. He looks somehow even sexier now, the post-orgasm glow turning his eyes shinier and adding an edge to his grin.

Fuck, you still couldn’t believe all that was yours.

You sigh, opening the glove box and pulling out some tissues. Dean has already put himself back into his pants, so you wipe the last traces of spit off your face. Your throat feels a little raw, so you turn and bend over the backrest of the front seat to reach the cooler Dean keeps in the back.

“Fuck, you’re a hazard while driving.”

You grab a water bottle when you feel him slap your ass. The sharp sting spreads through you, heat prickling every nerve. You sit back down with a huff, turning to him with an incredulous expression.

“What?”

Dean shrugs, trying —and failing— to look innocent, his smirk betraying him.

“Come on. You can’t bend over like that and not expect it. I’m only human after all, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, but an endeared smile takes over your face.

“Why do I keep you around again?”

A day later, you are sitting outside of the rented cabin with Dean next to you, surrounded by nothing but nature. You made him a simple flower crow with some daisies and baby’s breath you’d found in a clearing nearby. It took plenty of begging, pouting, and soft kisses to convince him to wear it, but once it was on, he hadn’t taken it off.

The days pass in a blur of quiet moments—early mornings spent sipping coffee on the cabin’s porch, evenings filled with whiskey, laughter and many more of those old-man stories you loved so much. And of course, a lot more sex.

Weeks later, after countless motel rooms and small-town diners, you find yourselves standing on the coast. you are near the beach, where the salty breeze mingled with the sound of crashing waves, and the sun hangs warm and golden overhead. Dean stands behind you, strong arms wrapped around your waist, pressing you back against his chest, chin resting against the top of your head.

And right there, in that perfect moment, when Dean turns you around softly and presses his lips to yours, you know exactly why you keep him around.

Because there’s no one else out there for you. Dean Winchester—old enough to be your father, a big bad hunter carrying more baggage than most could bear, with a neon sign flashing 'trouble' on his forehead—is the love of your life.

NOTES: I am trying my best with the smut pls be nice. Another ode to sucking dick by me (I am a virgin if it wasn't clear by now).

TAGS: @littlesoulshine @mostlymarvelgirl @pink-ghost666 @h8aaz @otteropera @xoswiftieprincess <3

If you wanna be tagged in future works, let me know!!

[camdunez]

It’s Never Over | s. laforteza

Song Playing: Lover, You Should’ve Come Over — Jeff Buckley | decode — paramore

paring: sophia leforteza x gn!reader summary: you had left sophia in LA to start a band with your close friends. she stayed leaving you voicemails, hoping you’d pick up. this voicemail was no different.. but she drops not so small surprise at the end. genre: angst, hurt/comfort, estranged relationship word count: warnings/tags: use of “yn”, college student!sophia, rockstar!yn, brief ningning x yn if you squint, yn’s so hayley williams coded, sophia misses you so much. a/n: might as well add onto the mom!sophia agenda. and can you tell i'm in love with paramore? expect more paramore au content soon!

hey, yn.. i don't know why i'm still leaving voicemails.. it's not like you're listening to them anyway.

but i hope you're doing okay.. i haven't heard from you since your little band dropped riot. i guess living that rockstar life's got you busy, huh?

i heard that track you guys did for that vampire movie in the grocery store yesterday. dani said you're growing more angsty with every song you put out.. but i'm proud of you regardless.

[sigh]

i feel like i'm stalling so let me just cut to the chase..

i had something to tell you the night you left for new york to start that band of yours...

remember when i told you i was sick that one time?.. that stomach bug i caught from eating manon's food?..

it really wasn't a stomach bug, yn..

[pause]

i was pregnant... just a few weeks then..

i had the baby when you were on tour for that first album.. and ironically, one of your songs came on the radio at the hospital.

[chuckle]

...

her name's salem..

she's about four years old now.. has your eyes.. your laugh.

she knows who you are.. she always tells people that you're her star.

[a longer pause]

i heard you're in LA for a show.. maybe i can drag the girls with me.. show my face and what not.

...

i miss you, yn. call me back when you get the chance..

the hallway was loud, but yn couldn’t hear anything.

not really.

they sat hunched in the greenroom, phone still pressed to their thigh, sophia’s voice still clinging to the insides of their skull like cigarette smoke. their in-ear monitors buzzed faintly from the tech table beside them. they were due on stage in seven minutes.

but time felt stuck.

like a pick jammed between strings.

“yo, we’re on in—” yizhuo’s voice cut in from the doorway, but the second she saw yn’s face, she stopped short. “hey.. you good?”

yn blinked. their eyes stung.

they should’ve known. or at least checked. all those voicemails — ignored, deleted, skipped. that whole year sophia kept calling, leaving breadcrumbs in the dark while yn lit match after match to burn their way forward.

they rubbed a hand down their face. “yeah,” they said. “i’m good.”

yizhuo didn’t move. “is it her?”

yn nodded once.

then, barely above a whisper: “i have a daughter.”

the silence stretched. even the hallway seemed to hush.

“oh,” yizhuo breathed. she stepped in slowly, crouching down in front of them. “you wanna bail? i’ll cover. i’ll fake a stomach bug... hell, i’ll pull the fire alarm.”

yn let out a weak laugh — the first crack of something real in their chest. “no. i need to do the show.”

“sure?”

“I have to.”

because what else was there to do but play?

to pour every feeling — the grief, the longing, the regret, the hope — into the mic and hope Salem would hear it one day and understand.

yizhuo pressed her forehead to theirs for a second, quick and grounding. “then go give ‘em hell.”

yn stood. shoulders squared. jaw set.

the lights were already dimming beyond the stage doors.

and somewhere in the crowd, maybe behind the barricades or just outside the venue, sophia was there. with salem.

waiting.

the first chords hit like muscle memory.

pressure bled into emergency, then into misery business, and YN tore through each song like they were exorcising something — sweat-slicked, breathless, cracking at the edges.

but focused.

tight.

every scream, every note curled off their lips like a confession. the crowd was a blur of lights and hands and mouths yelling lyrics back at them, and somewhere between the third and fourth song, yn finally let their shoulders drop.

the music held them.

it always had.

they hit the break before the final track and stepped forward, fingers flexing around the mic stand, eyes squinting under the pulsing stage lights.

“this last song,” yn started, voice still hoarse from the verse they’d just shredded, “is a little different from the others. we wrote it for a movie about vampires.”

laughter, cheers.

“yeah,” YN smiled a little. “didn’t think we’d ever be on a soundtrack... let alone that one. but when we wrote it, i was thinking about how hard it is to understand the people you love — even when you think you do. especially when they change. or when you do.”

their eyes scanned the crowd absently, words tumbling like muscle reflex.

“so... this is decode. hope you feel it.”

the guitars came in slow, simmering. the synth rippled like dusk over water.

and then—

a flash of pink hair in the front section.

a girl on someone’s shoulders, tiny headphones clamped over her ears, grinning like she owned the sky.

and Sophia.

holding her from behind, eyes wide.

manon was beside her. dani, lara, and yoonchae too — all of them watching, some with hands clasped over their mouths, some just swaying gently with the crowd.

but yn could only see her.

Them.

salem’s eyes — their eyes — stared back.

sophia’s mouth moved around the lyrics, barely audible, but yn didn’t need sound. they knew them already.

i’m screaming I love you so.

the words punched out of their chest harder than they expected.

every strum, every line, cracked with new meaning. years of longing rewired themselves mid-song. and as they reached the bridge, yn stepped closer to the edge of the stage, gaze locked with sophia’s, salem’s hands reaching out.

their voice trembled, but they didn’t stop.

how did we get here when I used to know you so well?

and for the first time in a long time, YN didn’t feel lost.

they felt seen.

they finished the song with a quiet, shaking exhale.

and the crowd roared.

as soon as the last chord faded, YN was moving.

they didn’t wait for the encore chants or the half-hugs from bandmates. they tore the in-ears out, shoved their guitar at a startled tech, and bolted past the backstage corridor like their body knew where it was going before their brain could catch up.

the hallway blurred. someone called their name. they didn’t stop.

out the side doors. Into the humid LA night.

the parking lot buzzed with post-show energy — crew unloading gear, fans screaming behind fences, neon venue signs flickering above.

and then—

there.

by the streetlamp near the side gate.

sophia.

still in that soft sweater from the photo she sent yn about a year ago. her arms were around salem, who was propped up on manon’s hip, babbling something between yawns and giggles.

manon was the first to see them.

she nudged daniela, who turned, then elbowed lara. then yoonchae looked up from her phone and blinked like she couldn’t quite believe it.

“soph,” manon murmured, nudging her gently. “look.”

sophia turned.

her breath caught so visibly it felt like the whole parking lot exhaled.

she didn’t move at first — just stood there, frozen, like if she blinked yn would disappear again.

“hi,” yn managed.

their voice cracked. their whole chest cracked.

sophia stared for another second. then another.

then she walked.

fast.

by the time she reached them, yn’s hands were already out, fingers twitching like they didn’t know where to land — her arm? her shoulder? her cheek?

but sophia didn’t give them the chance.

she shoved her hands against their chest and said, half-laughing, half-sobbing, “you asshole.”

then she threw her arms around their neck and held on.

and yn — dizzy with every scent and warmth and weight they thought they’d lost — hugged her back like it hurt.

which it did.

because this wasn’t a dream.

because she was real.

because she came.

salem’s little voice piped up behind them. “mommy said you were magic.”

yn pulled back just enough to see her — still on manon’s hip, squinting curiously at them.

And yn swore their heart stopped.

“hi, salem,” they whispered.

salem grinned. “i saw you! you screamed a lot.”

they choked on a laugh. “yeah… i do that.”

“sometimes I scream too,” she said proudly. “wanna hear?”

before she could demonstrate, sophia kissed her daughter’s head and gave her a gentle look. “let’s give them a second, baby.”

manon shifted salem into yn’s arms with a practiced ease. “she’s heavier than she looks.”

yn didn’t even notice. didn’t feel anything but salem’s arms around their neck and the tiny heartbeat thudding against theirs.

“you gonna say something profound?” dani teased, nudging sophia gently. “or just keep crying into their hoodie?”

“shut up,” sophia sniffled, laughing a little as she wiped her cheeks.

lara linked her arm with yoonchae’s. “we’ll be by the car.”

the girls gave them all a moment — drifting away slowly, but not without a few meaningful glances and soft smiles over their shoulders.

and then it was quiet again.

just them.

sophia. yn. salem.

and all the time they thought they’d lost.

they walked without speaking at first.

sophia beside them, her arm brushing yn’s every few steps. salem curled in yn’s arms, thumb in her mouth now, her cheek smushed gently against yn’s chest. the adrenaline of the show was gone — replaced by something quieter. heavier. more sacred.

the sidewalk was slick with night air, streetlights casting gold across the parked cars and backstage fencing.

“you know…” sophia finally said, her voice low, rough around the edges, “you have some explaining to do, yn.”

yn swallowed hard.

she didn’t sound angry.

worse — she sounded tired.

“i know,” they said softly.

sophia stopped walking, turned to face them. “you had to know something was wrong when I told you I was sick that night.” she said, referring to the voicemail she had left them.

“i did.”

“but you left anyway.”

yn looked down. salem stirred slightly in their arms, her breath even and warm against their neck.

“i didn’t want to go,” they said. “but i thought… i thought it was just nerves. or food poisoning. i didn’t think—”

“that I was carrying your daughter?” she cut in, not sharp, but precise.

yn flinched.

sophia’s eyes glistened under the streetlight. “I called you, yn. for weeks. i left voicemails until my voice gave out. i went to every show announcement page just to track where you were. i watched bootlegs of your sets, just to feel closer... all while i was bleeding in a hospital bed. alone.”

iI’m sorry,” yn said, hoarse. “i was scared. and selfish. and i thought… maybe not hearing your voice would hurt less than hearing it and knowing i couldn’t come back yet.”

“did it?” she asked quietly.

“no.”

silence stretched between them again.

“you missed so much,” she whispered.

“i know.”

“i had to be strong every day, even when i didn’t want to be... i had to be mom and dad.. a nurse and grown-up, even when i was still just a stupid college girl with lecture notes in her diaper bag... and still i played your music for her. i let her fall in love with you.”

yn looked up sharply at that. “why?”

sophia smiled, but it was sad. “because I never stopped loving you.”

that broke something in them.

yn stepped closer. not too close. not without permission. “i want to know her. i want to know you again, soph. if you’ll let me.”

sophia blinked slow, like she was holding back everything her body wanted to do. scream. cry. collapse. forgive.

she reached out and brushed her fingers across salem’s hair. “let’s start small, rockstar.”

then she looked up at yn.

“you can walk us home.. my apartment's not that far from here.”

sophia’s apartment was smaller than yn remembered.

or maybe they had just grown too much — in distance, in guilt, in time.

the space was warm, lived-in. a scatter of children’s books on the coffee table. a pink hoodie tossed over the arm of the couch. fairy lights strung up around the window, dimmed low now, like even they didn’t want to intrude.

salem had fallen asleep halfway through the walk. she was still curled in yn’s arms, her fingers fisted into the fabric of their hoodie like she knew exactly who she was holding — like she'd always known.

“here,” sophia whispered, pulling the soft gray blanket off the back of the couch. she draped it carefully over salem after yn laid her down.

for a long moment, they both just stood there — watching her breathe.

sophia crossed her arms over her chest. “she likes when you sing.”

yn’s lips parted, startled. “you really play my stuff for her?”

sophia’s gaze didn’t leave salem. “yeah. at bedtime sometimes. when she’s scared. or after a tantrum.”

she smiled faintly. “the softer ones. not the ones where you're yelling about feeling the pressures and all that crazy shit.”

yn snorted quietly. “fair.”

a beat passed.

then sophia walked over to the kitchen counter and poured herself a glass of water. she didn't offer yn one. she didn’t have to. it wasn’t hospitality tonight. it was survival.

“do you know what it feels like to fall asleep next to a voicemail?” she asked, not turning around. “to let someone’s ghost read bedtime stories to your daughter because the real thing never called back?”

yn’s throat closed.

“i don’t expect you to forgive me,” they said quietly.

“good,” sophia replied, taking a slow sip. “because i haven’t.”

she turned then, eyes shining in the low light. but there was no rage there. only grief. only bone-deep tiredness.

“i missed you every single day,” she said. “but i had to grieve you like you were dead... necause you were gone. and now you’re standing in my living room, holding her like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and I don’t know whether to fall apart or push you out the door.”

“i’m not going anywhere,” yn said, stepping closer. “not this time.”

she didn’t speak.

instead, she walked past them — slow, deliberate — and sat on the edge of the couch, beside salem. her fingers brushed the little girl's curls from her forehead. her whole body softened just from the contact.

yn sank to the floor in front of them. they looked up, chin resting on the couch cushion, studying sophia like a prayer they were scared to say out loud.

“i want to help,” they whispered. “whatever that looks like... i know i have no right to ask for a second chance... but i want to be here. for her, for you. even if i have to work my way up from the sidewalk.”

sophia looked at them for a long time.

and for a second, she looked like she might cry again.

instead, she whispered, “she calls the moon her ‘nightlight star.’”

yn blinked. “that’s beautiful.”

“she gets that from you,” sophia said. “she says it sings to her... like you do.”

the silence between them filled again — but it wasn’t heavy this time.

it was more sacred.

sophia leaned back on the couch and tilted her head toward the ceiling. “you can crash here tonight. the couch pulls out.”

“okay.”

“i’m still mad at you.”

“i know.”

she looked at them again — really looked.

but there was a softness now. a thread of something old, something forgiving, maybe not fully healed, but not as shattered as before.

and under the blanket, salem shifted in her sleep. a quiet hum left her lips.

“sing to her?” sophia asked softly. “like you used to.”

yn nodded.

they hummed a familiar tune under their breath as they moved closer to sophia, resting their head on her leg.

and as they sang, salem sighed in her sleep, curling deeper into the couch.

sophia stayed seated beside her.

listening.

eyes closed.

just like old times.

except this time, yn was here instead of in salem's radio.

[nick-writes-stuff]

Would You Fall in Love With Me Again?

Thanos/Choi Su-bong x gn!reader, established relationship

summary: Your relationship with Su-bong had never been perfect, but you loved him anyway. After a fight, he doesn't come home, and you fear the worst. In reality, he just spent a week in hell fighting for his life, but he comes home to you, hoping he can salvage the relationship with the one person who stuck with him through everything. ~ 4.8k words

warnings: discussion of canon-typical violence, discussions of suicidal thoughts/actions, drug use, suggestive comment at the end, swearing, slightly toxic relationship

a/n: really happy with this one. i got heavy inspiration from "would you fall in love with me again" from epic the musical and "proof" by paramore so give those a listen if you want! no clue what the next fic will be yet.

You've never regretted an argument with Su-bong more than the one you had the last time you saw him. It was over something stupid, too. Well, you weren't writing off the importance of the matter itself, but rather, it wasn't worth it turning out the way it had.

It was your anniversary, and you had planned on making a nice dinner for the two of you. And you did make it, but it wasn't nice. He had called you to tell you that he wasn't going to come back to your apartment until tomorrow night. Something about a rap battle at a club then a party that Nam-gyu had invited him to.

You tried not to start a fight over the phone, but you also weren't hiding that you were upset. “Hey, you know what day today is, right?” You asked.

He seemed disinterested. “Yeah, I know it's your birthday or whatever but this is going to be huge for me. For us.” He said.

You didn't even know why you were disappointed anymore. This was always happening. You loved him, you had since you were kids. But it was just getting to be too much. He always phrased it like that. It was huge for both of you, but you never got any fulfillment from his drug-fueled benders and crypto investments.

“It's our anniversary actually.” You said deadpan. He was quiet, and you scoffed. “I love you, but don't come home until you are ready to have a serious discussion about this. Be sober this time, please.” You said.

You heard someone say something on his end that you couldn't make out, but he called out to them before answering you. “Yeah, I will. Love you.”

He hung up before you could respond. You took a deep breath, trying to avoid breaking down right then. You weren't even hungry anymore, plus it felt wrong to eat what was supposed to be your anniversary dinner alone. So you packaged it up and spent your night scrolling on your phone to avoid thinking about the state of your life.

You didn't think twice that he didn't come home right away. He was known to do this sometimes. You had grown accustomed to it, and while it annoyed you immensely, it was typical.

What wasn't typical was his mother calling you. You had spoken to her previously, but you didn't talk often. It wasn't that she didn't like you, quite the contrary. She thought you were a great person for her son, if only he would be able to see that.

You felt the world stop around you as she tearfully asked you if you had seen him. You hesitantly told her no, scared to see where this conversation was going.

She broke down into tears and you felt your heart wrench at the sound. She told you about the last time she saw him, which was a few hours after you spoke to him. He came to her place high as a kite and asked for money. He never mentioned what it was for. Some words were exchanged, and she said some things that she wasn't proud of. He stormed out, and she hasn't heard from him since.

You tried to calm yourself down as she spoke. You felt panic start to settle in, but you didn't want to upset the woman further. It was hard to breathe, but you managed to tell her that you would try calling anyone you could think to call. You also offered up some of the leftovers that you had. She should be resting during all this stress. She thanked you, mumbling something about how her son doesn't deserve you.

You called everyone you had contact with. Nam-gyu was radio silent as well. No one you knew to call had heard from either of them, but you didn't have contact with their more… distasteful friends. Anyone who was actively trying to cover their tracks for whatever reason.

You had 3 main fears in your mind. He could have done something to himself. Or he could have overdosed and people could be trying to keep it a secret to save their own asses. You don't think you would ever be able to recover if either was the case. You didn't think you were being unreasonable in your request for him, but if standing up for yourself caused him to harm himself in any way, you didn't think you would ever forgive yourself.

Or he could have just run off, leaving you in the dirt. That one stung the most. While it might be the lesser of three evils, you didn't want to believe that he would do that. He cared about you enough to not just leave without a word… right? He loved you, didn't he? He said he did, but he didn't always act like he did.

As time passed, you tried not to become apathetic. You wanted to care. You wanted to find him. But you found it harder with every passing hour. You would be beside yourself if you found out he had died, but if he was just ghosting you, you weren't sure if you would be upset at this point. If this was all intentional, you didn't think you would be able to forgive him

-

When Thanos woke up on the side of the road, the first thing he did was spit out a debit card. The second thing he did though was search for his cell phone to call you.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem like he was given it back. He also realized he hadn't been given back his limited edition sneakers either. He had half the notion to try to see if the van was still around, but he needed to get back to you as soon as possible.

He wasn't far from your apartment, so he started walking there. He did make one stop at a gas station to use their ATM. He wanted to check the card. He inserted it into the terminal, trying to stop his hand from shaking as he typed in the only number that made sense as the PIN. 0230

45,600,000,000 ₩

It was all real. The money was his. This wasn't another scam he fell into. Sure, it cost the lives of a few hundred people, but it was real.

He tried not to seem startled to the other patrons. When he first heard about the games and the prize money, he imagined himself celebrating upon winning it. This should be a happy occasion, but he couldn't help but see the faces of everyone who died to give him this.

He pulled out only ten thousand won. He made sure to shove the withdrawal receipt into his pocket. He only wanted just enough to buy a bouquet of flowers to give to you. It was a cliche gift in the situation, but he didn't have time to search for anything better right now. He could spoil you later.

When he opened the apartment door, you had been packaging up what you had made for dinner. You had been making an extra serving to take to his mother, using the excuse that you were just used to cooking for two people that you accidentally made too much.

You turned toward the door almost instantly, but you had frozen once you saw him in the doorway. You were almost questioning whether this is real or not. He stood there holding out the flowers like a teenager awkwardly asking out their crush. After a moment of your stillness, he shut the door behind him and took a few steps toward you. He set the bouquet on the table behind you before looking at you directly. “Hey.” He said

Before he could say anything else, your arms were around him, squeezing him like you thought he would disappear. You caught him off guard for a moment before he returned your embrace. He could tell from the way your shoulders shook that you were crying. You were just overwhelmed with a variety of emotions. Anger and fear and happiness and a plethora of other feelings you had trouble naming were swimming in your mind.

He held you without complaint. His patience was infinite because he knew that he had a lot to make up for. He would hold you as long as you needed him to.

It also helped to ground him. This was real. He really did make it out of that hellhole. He was with you again, and he wanted to start to make things right. You deserved better than how he was treating you before. Unfortunately he hadn't recognized that until he saw the deaths of 455 other people, but better late than never, right?

After you gathered your bearings, you pulled away slowly. You looked up at him with an almost unreadable gaze, because you just had so much going on in your head right now. “You better explain yourself.” You said softly, reaching up to wipe the tears from your face.

He nodded, realizing how monumental of a task this would be. “Can we do it over dinner? I'm starving and that smells fucking amazing.” He said. You laughed weakly before nodding.

You didn't eat much, still too upset to think about eating. But he started eating like he hadn't in days. Which was true for the most part. Other than that steak in the end, there was basically just bread and milk available. You watched with concern. Where the hell was he? You could also see bruises in various stages of healing, as well as what looked like sets of puncture wounds. It wasn't the wounds of needles either. They were too wide and deep for that.

“Okay…” He started, finishing the bite he was eating before continuing to speak. “So before I explain this, I want to just put this out there. What I'm about to say sounds fucking insane, but I promise you it is one hundred percent true.” He said as a disclaimer.

You seemed confused. You were almost worried that he was going to begin to weave some intricate web of lies, but you gave him the benefit of the doubt. To the outside observer, his story did seem that way, but you could tell he was being genuine. You knew because he wasn't obviously trying to make himself seem blameless in the situation.

He tried to shy away from describing the brutality of it all. He did explain the lengths he went to in order to make it out, but he didn't want to upset or scare you but describing the (literally) gory details. He came clean about the pills, pushing people around in Red Light Green Light, and betraying Min-su. He was ashamed of his actions, but he didn't really regret them. He saw them as necessary. Without the drug-induced euphoria in Red Light Green Light, he likely would have been killed due to his nerves alone.

You sat and listened, trying to wrap your head around it all. You were having trouble processing the sheer amount of trauma he must have gone through. When he lulled in the conversation, you spoke, “Are you hurt at all though?” You asked even though you could obviously infer the answer just by looking at him.

He was touched by your words. He just mentioned how he was forced to kill people and you didn't run. You wanted to make sure he was okay. He should have known you would stick with him. You have this far. He shrugged. “I got some injuries but I'm all good. They could hardly put a scratch on me.” He said, trying to make you laugh.

It didn't work. You just looked up at him with concern before getting up and heading toward the hall. He thought he said something wrong and made you upset. He was about the call out before you returned with a washcloth and a first aid kit. He tried to disguise his lovestruck gaze to no avail.

You moved a chair closer to him so you could help him. He continued speaking as you tended to a particularly nasty cut on his eyebrow. His words caught in his throat every time your fingers grazed his skin. He was touched by your concern for him. After everything he had put you through, you still loved him as much as you did on your first date. It was humbling.

As he spoke, he mentioned Nam-gyu's name for the first time in his explanation. He felt his heart drop the second the name left his lips. You furrowed your eyebrows slightly, focusing your gaze on him. “He was with you?” You asked. All he could do is nod, unable to speak with the weight of his actions on his shoulders.

Your gaze softened as you started to put the pieces together. “Did he…” You trailed, not being able to say the words.

His facade shattered, breaking into heart-wrenching sobs. You froze for a moment before your instincts kicked in and you began to comfort him. You leaned forward in your chair, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him to your chest. He cried for a few moments before speaking. “I didn't want to do it! They made me kill him! It was him or me, I swear!” The words spilled out of his mouth in between bouts of crying.

You didn't react to his words. You believed him wholeheartedly. During the many conversations you both have had where he asks for a second (or third... or eighth) chance, he had never been this vulnerable. Right now, he wasn't trying to get you to take him back, at least not in the same way or for the same reasons anymore. Something changed in him, and you could see it clearly. Your fingers found their way into his violet hair, carding through it as you murmured softly to help him calm down a bit.

It didn't work. He continued spiraling. “I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I'm a total screw up. I killed people. I even killed my best friend. I shouldn't even be here.” He said, stumbling over his words at points when he was particularly upset.

You pulled back slightly, directing his gaze to you with a soft hand on his cheek. You wiped some of the tears from his face with your thumb. He had begun to forget what a gentle touch felt like. After the week of brutality he experienced, he almost expected to never feel it again.

“You do deserve to be here. I know it may not seem like it now, but you did what you had to do. You-” You began before he cut you off.

“No, you don't get it.” He cried out, wrapping his own arms around you and burying his face into your chest. He couldn't bear to look at you when he said what he was about to say.

“I went to my mom's to ask for money to get you something for our anniversary, but it didn't go well because I hadn't come down from the pills I took earlier. After that fight I-” Cries broke through his words, embracing you tighter as his body shook. You rubbed his back gently, whispering softly to him as you felt tears forming in your eyes. It was hard to watch him be so upset in the moment here.

“After, I went to the Han River bridge, and I was gonna jump. I thought it would be better for everyone if I just ended it.” He said. At that, you began crying again. You tried not to exaggerate anything. You didn't really want him to take notice. This was about him, not you. You held him a little tighter, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.

He explained how he ended up in the games. He told you of the tall man in the suit who he once considered an angel. The wide smile masking his depravity as the man slapped him repeatedly. The business card and money seen as a gift from God was just a ploy by something more evil than he had ever seen before. He went through hell and had to do unspeakable things but it's over now.

“After the first people died, I stayed because I would be able to do something right for once. I'd either make things right or die trying.” He said before breaking into more sobs. You ran your trembling fingers through his hair, quietly shushing him with a soft, repeated “It's okay.”

He started to collect himself after a few minutes of sitting like that. “Babe, what do you mean by ‘make things right?’” You asked softly.

He looked up at you. In any other situation, he would feel pathetic, but he didn't have the mental energy to judge himself for his vulnerability right now. “The prize money.” He said, voice quiet. He felt ashamed to even have the money. When the games first started, he wanted the money more than anything, but now he just felt this overwhelming guilt for having it at all.

You furrowed your eyebrows before cupping his face in your hands. “You know, you didn't have to go through that for money. I was upset about our anniversary, sure, but none of it was about money. I just wanted you to be safe, okay? I didn-” You began, beginning to pour out the word that had weighed on your mind since you learned of his disappearance. You had wanted to make sure he knew that you loved him despite the faults.

He cut you off by pulling out the receipt from his pocket and holding it out for you to read. You squinted your eyes, straining to read the small font. When you made it out, your jaw sat slacked open for a moment or two. “Holy shit.” You whispered.

He sighed. “One hundred million Won for each one of the other players.” His words were full of remorse. That's how much a human life was worth to the gamemakers. He helped carry out their transaction, and he hated himself for it.

You looked over at him with an uncharacteristic joy for the situation. He recognized it immediately. It was the same bright-eyed excitement that he felt when he saw that piggy bank illuminate the top of the dorm. It made him sick to his stomach.

But you weren't thinking about yourself. You were far too altruistic for that. “Babe, imagine how far your music could go with that kind of money! You could go global!” You said, voice somewhat louder than before.

He was touched by your statement. You didn't even want money for yourself. You just thought about him. You wanted him to be happy, even though his rap career was something you weren't always fond of. You thought it led him down the wrong road, and you were right. Almost every high he had experienced was connected to his budding fame. The drugs were part of the job. But you still just wanted him to do what he was passionate about. You were excited for him to finally let his dreams come true.

But seeing the deaths of 455 other people changes you. Who would have thought?

He shook his head.

“What do you mean?” You asked. You were confused.

His words didn't come easily, but he meant every word. “I don't want it anymore.” He said.

Your gaze softened. Your heart fluttered upon meeting his dark eyes

He reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I want this. I want us.” He said, punctuating his statement by squeezing your hand lightly.

Your eyes teared up again. You took a moment before you spoke. “You don't have to do that. I know I was frustrated before, but I'm not asking you to give it up. I'd never make you quit. I just wanted-”

He interrupted you. “I don't want it anymore.” He repeated. You were quiet for a moment, trying to read his face. He stood up and started to pace as he continued to speak. “None of them give a shit about me. None of it was real. I thought Nam-gyu was my best friend and that fucker tried to kill me without hesitation.” He started, voice breaking with his outburst.

You stood up as well, turning to face him. He carried on with his rant. “When it came down to it, he was ready to stab me with that fucking steak knife. I never meant anything to him. I was just a fucking paycheck. He took so much of my life for nothing. I almost…” He trailed off, but you knew what he was going to say.

He paused for a moment, turning around to see you standing there. He took long strides toward you and pulled you into his embrace. Your hands gripped the back of his jacket as you cried into his chest.

“I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. You've been here for me all along and I treated you like shit and I'm so sorry.” He cried out.

You squeezed him tighter. “I know. I know. It's okay” You said through your tears.

You felt his shoulders move as he shook his head. “It's not okay. You put up with so much bullshit because of me and you don't deserve it. You don't deserve me. I fuck everything up. Plus, now I have so much fucking blood on my hands. I'm just a good-for-nothing piece of shit.”

You pulled back from his embrace, resting your hands on his shoulders. “Hey, that's bullshit and you know it.” You said strongly, looking into his eyes with a level of intensity that caught him off guard. “You don't get to decide what I do or don't deserve. You act like you didn't just put your life on the line to make a better life for us.”

He looked almost like a deer in headlights. His eyes were wide. He almost expected this relationship to be irreconcilable. He thought he had finally pushed you too far this time. He forgot your anniversary for fuck's sake and didn't even care to come home when he realized it. He almost killed himself to avoid the fallout of his destructive decisions.

You moved one of your hands to cup his cheek, gently wiping his tears away with your thumb. “I love you.” You said. “I don't care how many bad decisions you made in the past or that you forgot our anniversary. I don't care about anything that you were forced to do in the games. None of that changes anything. I still love you. I'll always love you.”

Fresh tears welled in his eyes. “But I-” He started, but you cut him off by grabbing his collar and pulling him closer. You pressed your lips to his. The kiss was full of the worry and desperation and love you had been bottling up in the past few days.

He was stunned at first, but when his brain caught up, he kissed you back. One hand held your face gently while the other rested on your waist. When you pulled away, he had a lovesick grin on his face.

You looked up at him. “I love you. Do you love me?” You asked.

“More than anything.” He said quickly.

You smiled through your tears. “That's all I need. No proving it, no making it up to me, nothing else, okay?”

He wrapped you into a hug again, which you reciprocated quickly. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you so much.” He murmured

After a few moments, you pulled away from the hug. You swiped the tears from your face with the back of your hand. “By the way,” You asked, “what the hell are you wearing?”

He smirked. “What? Do you not like it?” He said playfully.

“I've just never seen you wear it before.”

He shook his head. “Don't get it twisted, I would never own anything like this. They just made everyone wear them.” He said.

You thought for a moment. “We should burn it.” You meant it more symbolically. Getting rid of it would be putting all of it behind you both. But it was also because the outfit was atrocious.

He laughed. “Hell yeah!” He exclaimed. He started to walk toward your bedroom. “I wonder where I left my lighter.” He said, thinking out loud.

“Babe?” You called out. He turned to look at you, leaning against the doorframe. “Not in the apartment!” You said loudly.

He sighed, playing up his disappointment. “Aww, do you have to be such a buzzkill?” He whined, smirking slightly.

You rolled your eyes. “Sorry for wanting our security deposit back.” You shot back with just as much sarcasm.

He grinned. That stupid, shit-eating grin that you had been missing the past week. You had almost convinced yourself that you'd never see it again. Either he was gone or he would just never be happy with you again.

“I'm going to go take a shower. You're welcome to join me.” He said with a wink before turning to walk down the hall.

You rolled your eyes. “Don't press your luck.” You called after him. You heard his laugh echo through the apartment. You felt yourself blushing, and you couldn't wipe a smile off your face. This was the first time in a long time the two of you were able to joke with each other. Before he left things were tense most of the time. He was pushing you away and you were starting to doubt the future of your relationship.

The games had served as a wake up call for both of you.

His priorities were straightened out once he saw that the fame and the drugs were sucking the life from him. None of that really mattered once he was able to see the truth. None of his so-called friends had his back. In fact, Nam-gyu tried to backstab him just to get ahead. You were the only person who chose to be in his corner. He took you for granted. He treated you like shit sometimes, but you stuck by his side regardless. He would try to make it up to you for the rest of his life, despite the fact you said he wouldn't need to.

You realized that, despite his faults, you still loved him. Those few days without seeing him was hell. And it didn't help that you thought he was dead.

But in a way, the fact he came back to you spoke volumes about how he really felt. He could have taken the money and ran. He could have poured it into the pockets of his dealers or into another crypto investment scheme.

But he came back to you. He acknowledged what he had done wrong and wanted to make amends. It was touching in a way that was difficult to describe. Despite everything that had happened in the last year or so, despite the toxic friendships and the drugs and the arguments, he still loved you. And you loved him too.

— bonus —

After he got out of the shower, he made his way back to the kitchen where you were washing dishes. He walked up from behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You leaned into his touch as he kissed your cheek.

After a moment, you spoke. “You should probably call your mom by the way. She's worried sick.” You said.

His face scrunched into a look of confusion. “Since when do you have my mom's number?”

You chuckled. “Since she sent me those embarrassing pictures of you in secondary school. Remember?”

He scoffed. “I fucking hate you.”

You turned to look at him, a smirk plastered across your face. “Don't tell your mom that. She'd be devastated.” You said cheekily.

He made a sound you thought was a laugh. “Oh yeah, and why is that?” He asked. He let go of you and took a step back.

You smiled and turned to face him. “She's taken quite a liking to me. Said my sundubu jjigae makes me marriage material.” You said with a wink.

Thanos quickly turned red. You laughed and returned to washing up.

He liked the sound of that.

[brights-place]

HIII, I was wondering if you could write for kaidou (from saiki k) with Emo!reader?? Like at first he thought she was apart of the dark reunion but as time goes on he realizes she’s just a normal person and kinda cool then he gets a little (Big) crush on reader

anyways I love your fics, have a good dayyy💗💗💗

[Saiki K] Kaidou x Emo!reader

Warnings: None

A/N: Lets be honest here... HOW MANY PEOPLE HERE LIKE KAIDOU BECAUSE I FIND HIM ABIT CUTE! HE'S SO SWEET also I gave up on the headcannons sorry gang <//3

Summary: Kaidou was always suspicious of you with how you dressed you must of been apart of the dark reunion coming out to get him.. Until he found interest in

You walked around with outfits that would gain attention and whispers from others yet you waved them off. The way you stared down people who would try talk to you other then your friends.

Wearing monochrome colours, heavy makeup that scared those around you making them grow weary of you, and leave you alone.

Saiki out of all people adored the fact people left you alone letting you live a somewhat normal life but the pinkette could hear your thoughts about your favorite bands, and the fact you had a feeling you were being watched. Saiki knew who it was though...

Kaidou was lurking in the corner of the library watching you with squinted eyes muttering things about the dark reunion causing saiki to deadpan even more sighing as he glanced back to your figure sitting at a desk listening to music.

Saiki vanished instantly when Kaidou started heading towards you his hands on his hips before pointing at you “I know your working for the dark reunion! Give it up now!” Kaidou stated as he posed dramatically before pausing when noticing you had your headphones in and had your head in a book.

Kaidou couldn’t help but flinch before awkwardly tapping your shoulder “uhm excuse me-?” His voice quite and awkward causing you to lift up your head and take off your headphones head turning to look at Kaidou who cleared his throat as you awkwardly blinked at him.

Silence filled you two before Kaidou spoke dramatically “I know your apart of the dark reunion! The way you dress, how you act and the aura around you!” You couldn’t help but blink “Dark reunion…?” Kaidou couldn’t help but nod his head “is that a new band…? I’ll check it out” you smiled softly before pointing at his arm wrapped with a red bandaged “did you get hurt or something” Kaidou smirked before holding up his arm starting a large monologue while you stared at him before a small giggle came from you causing Kaidou to flush “Sit” you muttered patting down at a seat unaware of such a simple interaction between you two grew into something more

- Kaidou likes to help and choose different outfits with you along with watching you do your makeup

- You wear all black, eyeliner sharper than your wit, and have a collection of skull accessories - Kaidou wears his hoodie like a superhero cape and talks about sealing dark forces and the dark re-union something you found cute and would listen to with a soft smile - PDA is weird, awkward, and cute He doesn’t know how to flirt, so he’ll dramatically take your hand and say things like, “Let us walk through the night together” while you roll your eyes and blush. You secretly think it’s adorable - When you open up about your struggles, he drops the act and listens quietly, eyes full of real concern. “You’re not alone in this situation… I’m with you.” For once, he says it without flair, and it hits you right in the heart smiling like an idiot - Music is shared between the two of you. He doesn't understand it for how intense it is. But over time, Kaidou starts genuinely loving bands like Paramore, My Chemical Romance, Cure, etc. - buys you things that remind him of you and you buy stuff that remind you of him giving it to one another with stupid smiles, holding hands

[elizaleclerc]

l&ds headcanons

a hc post for all of the guys (except caleb im just waiting til we get his lore tbh)

Sylus:

would definitely get into twitter discourse over the most random topics. the man has strong opinions and will express them in whatever means necessary, even if that's arguing with a random on twitter.

sylus would find some odd type of joy in doing taxes, especially your taxes. he would stay up day and night crunching the numbers and going over the forms multiple times. hes just weird like that.

he would sing along to a musical with no shame, and YES he knows every word are you kidding? it's even worse if you are watching one with him because he will assign characters to everyone and force everyone to act out the parts.

listens to multiple genres of music and has hundreds of playlists for every mood. yall can debate on whether hes a spotify or apple kinda guy.

Zayne:

he likes using a nightlight to sleep and hatesss if there's not a fan going in the room at night. no i will not elaborate further.

not lore accurate obv but he gives oldest son energy- even better if he's the oldest child overall. the smooth sarcasm and protectiveness of the ppl he loves?!?!? screams oldest child behavior.

he's the type to leave a social interaction and rethink/regret everything they said and did to the point of no return. this shit would keep him up at night. even social interactions years ago haunts him.

he'll never let himself drink energy drinks (doctor behavior), not only bc he knows the bad side effects but you genuinely do not want to see him hyped up on caffeine.

Rafayel:

adversely to sylus, rafayel would get canceled on twt so fast. i imagine him beefing with sylus in a long thread and as a result of some outlandish opinion rafayel would get canceled. can't blame him, he's sassy asf and no one can stop him.

he has one playlist full of his liked songs and just hits shuffle whenever he wants to listen to music (freak behavior in my opinion)

if anyone criticizes his artwork he will intensely plot their demise in his head instead of hearing them out. this queen has an ego what can i say.

seems like the type to have had an "emo" phase in their preteens and would exclusively listen to top or paramore.

Xavier:

xavier has an insane long term memory but an awful short term memory. yes he can tell u what happened on a certain day three years ago but don't even think about asking him what he had for breakfast (he probably wasn't awake early enough for it anyway)

unlike zayne, you'd have to pry energy drinks out of xavier's hands. he cannot get enough. he's so sleepy all the time he pretty much can't function without some sort of regular caffeine intake.

xavier believed in santa probably way longer than any of his peers to the point where it was a little concerning. he's just full of holiday spirit.

i can see him not liking being alone for too long because even though he seems sleepy and quiet he really likes to yap ur ear off. at the end of the day he really loves company- even if its just the two of you sitting in comfortable silence.

fin <3

[charlie-lec-stories]

Nightmares // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: Everyone deals with their own battle, but they are always easier faced together.

Warnings: Abusive parenting, homophobia, abandonment issues, sexism, grief and childhood trauma.

Author’s Note: This is about companionship, we all deal with our own pain and we all have a past that still haunts us. This is about facing those battles hand in hand with the people you love. I wrote this some time ago, listening to 'Return the favor' and 'Therapy', both by All Time Low, and 'The only exception' by Paramore. I highly recommend listen to those tracks. I hope you like the story. Rate: +16 (descriptions of violence)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••��••••

The cold wind from outside filtered through a small dent on Max's bedroom window and the contact it made with his uncovered skin made him shiver. He thought about all the other punishments he had endured before over his 16 years of life and he assured himself that it could have gotten worse. Spending the winter night on his bedroom floor, in underwear, was way better than when he had to spend a week sleeping in the back yard because he came in second on an important race. It was also better than when his father left him alone in that gas station, the fear so intense that he ended up crying on the bathroom floor, hiding from the strangers around. At least he was in his home, in his room and he had his stuffed lion to keep him company. He gripped it tightly, feeling a little stupid for keeping such a childish object when he was that old, but it was the only thing that brought him a little comfort. He thought about his mother, who gave him the lion, and wondered what his life would be like if he had stayed with his mom and sister instead of his father. Would he be happier? Would he be as good at racing as he was? Would his mother have accepted him for who he was? He had an answer for that one: Yes. His mother would have chosen to love him anyways, he was sure of that. He wished, with his whole heart, to close his eyes and wake up in a better place, where he was loved for who he was. So he closed his eyes and waited for his wish to come true.

Max woke up in a cold sweat, he could still feel his fingers and toes frozen, the floor against his bare legs. A decade had passed from that night, but he still had nightmares about it once in a while. His childhood always came back whenever he was stressed or with low batteries. It was like his brain tried to sabotage him, filling him with more pain than he already felt. He looked to his left and found Charles sound asleep, his arms under the pillow, bringing it closer to his face, a peaceful look adorning his features. He knew that Charles had his own battles, and that he dreamed of his own nightmares, but how he wished he had the kind of father Charles had. Hervé was a loving husband and parent and even though he left this Earth way too early, he left a wonderful mark on everyone who knew him. His children loved him, his wife Pascale loved him. What did his father do? He also left marks, his mom had an order of protection against him, his sister was terrified of him, and Max did everything he could to run away as far as possible so he didn't have to be near him. If he could, he would bring back Hervé and give up his father. With a sigh and feeling a little guilty for his thoughts, he finally got up. He had to look for his girl, who was definitely hiding somewhere instead of being in bed with them.

The sky was still pretty dark outside, the stars shining on Monaco's natural ceiling, the full moon big over the Mediterranean Sea. He found her sitting on the floor of the balcony, a cigarette between her lips and her eyes lost in the waves that crashed rhythmically on the beach. Charles hated when she smoked, so she did it outside, so the stick of the nicotine wouldn't stay on her clothes. Max didn't like it either, but he tolerated the habit because he knew that it helped her calm down, one day he would make her switch to something healthier. Some day. Before stepping out, he caught a glimpse of the beloved lion on one of the living room shelves, so he grabbed it and hugged it close, a familiar calmness running all over his body. If she heard him walk out, she didn't show, but she must definitely have noticed his presence when he sat down next to her. They were used to the silent conversations, they had had them their whole friendship. Secret gazes, millimetric gestures that only they could read, the changes on each other's skins when the other was around. They were used to the effect they had on each other, so he knew that she felt him there when the hairs of her arms stood up and her breathing changed, because even if she didn't say anything, her body did.

"Which one was it this time?". She asked, not even looking at him.

"The night I came out". He had said it so many times that his voice didn't break anymore.

"That one is tough". The comment was swallowed by the poof she gave to the cigarette, but he got it.

"It was. It always comes back whenever I'm happy with you, but angry at racing". And it made sense, after all the punishment wasn't only for coming out of the closet, it was also because Jos was sure that 'the queerness' of Max would make him a mediocre driver.

"You know that losing this championship wasn't your lack of concentration or skill. Charles is as great as us, and for the love of God, Ferrari finally did things right for once". He knew that, still, he lost and he always had a hard time losing. He lost in 2024 against her, he lost in 2025 against Charles, would he ever be able to win again? "You are a 3 times World Champion, Max. You don't owe anything to anyone, and I can assure you that you're not mediocre".

He pulled her close and took her cigarette away, she was about to complain when he pressed his lips against hers, kissing her deeply. He believed her, every word, and he was grateful that he had her to remind him of the amazing person he was and could be. They pulled apart when they heard movement inside, the curtains of the living room moving aside as Charles walked out to the balcony. Sleep was still written all over his face, but he woke up fully pretty quickly when he felt the dense atmosphere that wrapped them up. He walked over to them, a mixture of curiousness and worry in his eyes as he scanned them over. They pulled apart to make some room for him to sit in the middle, Charles noticed the lion and the cigarettes, understanding the situation. Resting his back against the building's wall, he pulled them to his chest and ran his hands up and down their arms, hoping for it to be enough. He saw Max's grip tighten around the old stuffed animal, the marks of his pyton's grip over the years clear on it. Charles pulled him a little bit closer and kissed his head.

"You're anything but ordinary".

She did all she could to get loose, but the grip on her arm was so tight it was impossible to break. She screamed and kicked as her mother dragged her to the room, she wished that her racing suit was ticker, so her arm wouldn't hurt that much. Her father was crying and pleading behind them, asking for his wife to finally let go, but it was pointless, when had she ever listened to anything he had to say? The mud of her shoes drew patterns on their living room floor as they neared her bedroom and she wondered if her mother was actually going to use the chancla on her. Her body made contact with the carpeted floor of her room and her mother grabbed her face to make her look at her. She screamed at her face, about how she was a disgrace, a 'marimacho', a 'zorra' playing with the boys instead of being a 'señorita', she went on and on about the shame she brought to the family. She reminded her that no daughter of hers would do something like racing, wear the clothes she wore and go around covered in mud and filth like she did. But the girl just muted the rest of the screams, she just let her say whatever she wanted, because she was not going to stop her from chasing her dream. She had just met the best boys in the world and she was going to race those boys for the rest of her life. No matter what. She felt the chancla hit her back, but it didn't hurt her anymore, no when she knew that it was the price to pay for sneaking out to race. Her mother would change her mind one day, but for that day to come, she had to take it today. No. Matter. What.

She woke up to the sound of the front door closing. Max and Charles were probably back from the supermarket. She sighed as he got up from the couch, the feeling of the chancla still lingering on her skin. It was the worst, the rubber hitting on the same place, over and over again, but it was more hurtful to her pride. The humiliation that came with the beating, the screams, the words, the hate on her mother's eyes. She remembered that beating like it was yesterday, because it was the one that changed everything. It was the first time that, when she was finally left alone in her room, she wasn't scared anymore. That week she met Pierre and he introduced her to Max and Charles the very same day that her mother gave her that beating. Meeting the boys and winning a race against them gave her the push she needed to hold on to her dream and never let go. Her motto was born that day: 'No matter what'. She took it to heart, and kept pushing and pushing, she took as many more beatings as she had, but she kept sneaking out, even if her mother dropped the chancla to grab the wooden spoon from the kitchen, even if the skin of her hands was red and burning from the hard wood against it. She kept pushing, and she became world champion. A hand on her back brought her back to reality and she relaxed against Charles' hand once his scent made her aware of his presence.

"Which one was it?". He asked softly as he ran his hand up and down her back.

"The day we met". She admitted, Max placed the bags on the floor and walked up to them.

"It's okay, Schat, you're safe now". She smiled softly at them.

"I know. It's just that her birthday is in a few days". Charles nodded, understanding.

"You know you don't have to go if you don't want to, Amour". It was her turn to nod.

"I also know that. But she changed a lot over the years. I know that we still have out problems and that she's not a fan of our relationship, but I can see that she's trying". Max was a lot less forgiving, but he was also aware that he wasn't the one with the best record of family choices, he still visited his father.

"I agree that she seems to be trying, Amour, and I admire you a lot for being able to see that and be so forgiving. I still want you to put yourself above everything. Take care of yourself, because you're not any of those things she said. You're wonderful, and we are beyond proud of who you are, okay?". Charles placed his hand against her cheek and she snuggled against it. "We are so very proud, Amour".

Charles rubbed his nose with hers, making her giggle a little, and bringing a smile to Max's lips. It always worked, because if there was something that she needed was softness. It was something that her dad did, treat her with gentleness, with love and with trust. He always believed in her, even if he was so afraid of his wife and had to take even more beatings and insults than her. She didn't blame him, but she was sure that she would never make the same mistakes her dad made. So she looked for gentle men, men with nice words and tender touches, nothing like her mother, nothing like who her dad settled for. And she found Charles and Max, the embodiment of kindness, enough for her heart to skip a beat and her shoulders to relax under their touch. It felt good, being able to be loved, laughing on a daily basis, relying on them when she needed and giving herself the chance of being an open book, unafraid and never judged. A lonely tear fell down her cheek and Max caught it before it made it to her jaw, wiping it away with a swift movement of his thumb. It made her look at him, his blue eyes looking back at her with the same adoration they have been for the past decade. Her heart made a few jumps inside her chest. Max pressed his forehead gently against hers, making her close her eyes with him, the feeling of Charles' hand agains the skin of her back, where the burning of the chancla was just a bitter memory in the back of her mind. Max's lips barely touch hers.

"You're a dream come true".

Charles ran, his lungs burning as the air coming inside was not enough to keep his body moving. The fog around the graveyard and the darkness of the night made his heart race faster, the feeling of it threatening to jump out of his ribcage. He called their names into the silence of the dead, but he couldn't hear anything. Does sound really exist if there's no one to hear it? He passed gravestone after gravestone, the names of his family and friends written in each one of them. He cried, the tears blurring his vision as he desperately looked for their names. He didn't want to be alone, in the dark, in the cold, with the dead. The place seemed to never end, filled with all the people he loved but weren't there anymore, the air felt tight around his body, sour inside his mouth, painful coming into his lungs. He kept searching. What would he do if he couldn't find them? How could he keep on living if they weren't by his side? He couldn't be alone, he didn't want to. He needed them, he needed his friends, his family. He kept searching, because it was the only thing he could do, and as the names kept appearing he felt like his heart just couldn't take it anymore. He fell to his knees, two stones right in front of him. Suddenly, he couldn't breathe anymore, the feeling of his lungs contracting for air but nothing going in. There they were, the names he hoped to never see graved in stone, right in front of his eyes. Charles clawed at the grass, removed the dirt, he felt the cold and humid soil under his fingertips as clear as he felt the daggers inside his chest. He just wanted to pass out, to turn to dust right there so he could join them wherever they were, because no life was worth living without them. But he had had this nightmare before, so he knew, he knew that he was never going to pass out, because this was his biggest fear: living the rest of his life mourning his own.

He woke up alone in the hotel room bed, a halo of cold sweat around him and he inhaled as hard as he could to keep his lungs full. He felt a rush of calm run down his spine when he felt the air come in. He searched for the dirt under his fingernails, only to find them as clean as they were when he went to sleep last night. Getting up, he gave up the longest sigh as he gathered everything he needed to jump in the shower. He needed it, he needed to get rid of the stench of the graveyard that still lingered on his nose, the humidity of the air clenched to his skin, but mostly, he needed to wash away the feeling of loneliness that haunted him still. As the water ran down his body, cleansing him like a religious ritual taking away his sins, he felt the same tug in his heart as he did a few years back. The guilt of that feeling settled inside his belly, like a parasite eating him inside out. He remembered the fear of closeness, how he refused to accept that he loved Max and Y/N because he was terrified of ever losing them, how he had found solace in keeping a comfortable distance, how he convinced himself that he was content with loneliness. He refused to love someone because he knew that the grief is as great as the love you feel. But they found their way into his heart and now he couldn't kick them out. He was destined to suffer, to live in pain. To be alone. He heard movement outside the bathroom as he stepped out of the shower. He opened the door to find his partners changing the bedding. They knew that he hated to be alone in the hotel rooms, he ended up getting sick and tired of sleeping alone over the weekend.

"Which one was it, Poopie?". Max asked, even though the messy sheets and the shower were a big hint. He just wanted to be sure.

"The graveyard". He sat on the bed, the smell of clean sheets comforting against the odor of the humid dirt that he could still remember.

"We're still here, Charlie". She reassured him, her hand on his tight applying a little pressure to ground him there.

"But you'll leave". He replayed softly. She pressed her hand more, a little proof to his heart that they were there.

"Everyone leaves, Poopie, but that doesn't mean you'll be alone". Max sat by his side and ran his finger through his hair, a gesture that brought some warmth to his chest.

"You can't know that". The risk was just so much, too great. "The more I love you the more it'll hurt".

"We know that, because we love just as much, Charles". Max pulled him into a side hug, his head resting against the Dutchman's collarbones. "Loving is a risk and we are all afraid of taking that risk. But, I have known since I met you, that there's just one person that everyone is willing to take the risk for, and that person is you. You're the greatest man I know. Loyal, just, kind, hardworking, you are the epitome of greatness. It's impossible for someone like you to ever be alone".

It wasn't just the words, but how they reverberated inside Max's chest, in sync with his heartbeat that made Charles believe him. It was the warm feeling of Y/N's hand still on his tight. They were there, they were worth it, the fear, the pain. He would rather spend his life mourning them if it gave him the chance to have them for as long as Death allowed him. He was still a work in progress, but he was on his way to believing, trusting, risking. He felt Y/N moving to sit on his lap, her hands carefully adjusting the towel around his hips so it wouldn't loose. She pulled him away from Max and placed his head against her chest, her own heartbeat now strongly pumping against his face. It gave him peace of mind. The feeling of them there, Max's hand still on his hair, her soft hands on his face. They made him feel loved, they made him feel like there was hope in life, no matter how hard the road was. And he finally felt like he may be that special person Max told him he was. Maybe he was one of those people that'll never be alone. Maybe, just maybe, he didn't need to be so scared. Y/N pulled him away and pressed her lips to his forehead, erasing the frown that tinted his features. Maybe, he was the reason why they were willing to take the risk of loving, even if their whole lives they had only met pain and hurt. Maybe the risk was as great for them as it was for him, so maybe he was the one they risked it all for, even if they said they would never. Maybe, he was comfortable with loneliness, except when it came to them. And he knew, the moment she mumbled against him, that he was...

"You're the only exception".

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I hope you guys like this one. It's really hurt/comfort and I feel like it turned out great. Like, reblog and comment, like you guys always do. Much love!

[fatalhoon]

with love, the kids from yesterday

welcome! here you’ll find a collection of fics inspired by my favorite emo/pop punk albums from the 2000s/2010s!

— starring lee heeseung, sim jaeyun, and park sunghoon

✩ starring — 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

✩ featuring —

A FEVER YOU CAN'T SWEAT OUT by panic! at the disco

↳ heeseung x burlesque dancer!reader ; 1920s au

THE BLACK PARADE by my chemical romance

↳ ghost!heeseung x ghost!reader

COLLIDE WITH THE SKY by pierce the veil

↳ demon!heeseung x angel!reader

AMERICAN IDIOT by green day

↳ heeseung x reader ; zombie apocalypse au

✩ starring — 𝐒𝐈�� 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍

✩ featuring —

DEATH OF A BACHELOR by panic! at the disco

↳ jake x reader ; 70s au

DANGER DAYS: THE TRUE LIVES OF THE

FABULOUS KILLJOYS by my chemical romance

↳ killjoy!jake x killjoy!reader

FROM UNDER THE CORK TREE by fall out boy

↳ greaser!jake x soc!reader ; outsiders au

A LESSON IN ROMANTICS by mayday parade

↳ surfer!jake x mermaid!reader

✩ starring — 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

✩ featuring —

TOO WEIRD TO LIVE,

TOO RARE TO DIE by panic! at the disco

↳ royal guard!sunghoon x princess!reader

THREE CHEERS FOR

SWEET REVENGE by my chemical romance

↳ vampire!sunghoon x vampire hunter!reader

NOTHING PERSONAL by all time low

↳ nerd!sunghoon x band member!reader

BRAND NEW EYES by paramore

↳ detective!sunghoon x detective!reader ; paranormal au

authors note (sorry its long lol);

hi everyone! this entire idea from the very beginning has been in the works for a very long time (i originally got the idea for something like this back in 2019) so i’m so happy its finally in the works!! this is gonna be a very heavy task for me but my goal is to get these all out by the end of the year <3 also i don’t know if all of these bands are considered “emo” but these are all bands that i listened to during that phase of my life. and its my series so idc LMAO. its heejakehoon centric cause that’s my bias line and i knew i would need a lot of inspo if i was going to commit to this series (plus a lot of different things in terms of planning and organizing that we don’t have time to get into rn lmao) soo i’m sorry to the jay/sunoo/won/riki stans :< p!atd (fuck brendon tho) and mcr were my favorite bands growing up therefore i know most music from them so that’s why each of them has one album from both bands! i don’t expect these to change very much but don’t be surprised if i switch any of them around. anyway i’m yapping SO i hope you guys are excited for this as much as i am!!

with love, judah <3

[satocidal]

Hi Rome! New follower here, and I love the way you write Geto ❤️ He doesn't get the love he deserves!!

Saw your requests were open, and I had an idea for headcanons: what kind of music do you think the JJK guys would be into (Nanami, Suguru, Satoru and Toji in particular) ?

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ *.What Sort of Music They Listen to...?

a/n: firstly, hi baby<333 🙈thank you for saying that and secondly, sorry for taking so long with this - school stuff just had my head</3 and lastly, this is purely based on MY music taste (unfortunately) so i mean, if you don't know some of this artists or expected different ones then<///3(i also shift a lot from hindi to english music so japanese music was anyways a no-go lol)

also majot sorry for no Toji (he just stumped me so bad)

warnings: not proof-read, just rambling

Satoru Gojo:

Satoru i think, does a little bit of everything - nor is he shy to try new music. He's the kind of guy who recognises every song that plays - wherever it be, radio, malls, restaurants, he een knows the elevator music so...yes. At the same time, i think he'd also just...put everything in his 'liked' playlist💀and call it a day. In particular i feel Satoru is Kendrick guy? and also Doechii? but when in feels, i think he also pulls out some Sufjan Stevens and Finneas as well lmao (i think teen! Satoru would also have Cavetown and Arctic Monkeys in his playlists) although i don't think he'd play their songs on his head but unironically knows every lyric and bobs his head to all hot girl music (nikki and britney and megan, the entire bunch lol) Definitely an ABBA guy<3

Suguru Geto:

As i've stated many times on my blog lmao, Suguru would probably be a Hozier and Lord Huron guy - it's the arsonist vibe that makes me say this? and the slight rebellion but that's just me. A huge 70s-90s sucker actually, and Nirvana - he is the guy who won't ask you to name 5 songs but looks at you and judges you with the assumption that you don't. Teen Suguru would get down to fight you if you said you were a bigger MCR fan. I think he also is a vibe to Florence and the machine or Mitski (just again, his vibe - idk if he'd listen or whatever) I think Suguru would fw indie bands too - GROUPLOVE and Peach pit being major artists there, maybe some drifting Yot Club or Cleffy too Also again, a Kendrick guy - i just think Suguru is the kind who enjoys the lyricism that goes in the art yk? be it whatever genre. Unironically began to listen to Mother Mother after leaving and just...never...stopped. He is the kind to have 50+ playlists (listen to the same 5 on repeat though) i also think he majorly judges lana listeners

Kento Nanami:

Hmmmmmmm, i feel like - i don't want to stereotype - but he stays away from the new music? idk how to explain (hates ice spice if you catch my drift), he definitely doesn't mind rap music but again, wouldn't play it on his own. As it is a fanon thing anyways that Kento was emo so i mean, you've got MCR (you know he never refused to jam to Teen Spirits with Suguru<3) - fall out boy, maybe paramore? on his playlist. but i do believe older him would have shifted to elvis maybe? not a major jazz guy but enough to prove a point lol. Teen Kento would in fact ask you to name 5 name songs and would be proud of listening to under-rated artists (and roll his eyes when Satoru would do the same but, for some overly-hyped artist of the time). I think Nanami isn't huge on music anyways though - i do see Satoru listening to music 24/7 (don't ask why but smn to do with his infinity) and Suguru too plays it a decent amount but for Nanami, his music app opens 2 times a week lmao <3

All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

[deardajeong]

assorted kotlc headcanons ive thought of while rereading the series

spoilers up to unraveled under the cut don't chat to me

sophie's eye color did actually change after the initial detox; they used to be a warmer brown but over time they've become more of a cooler hazel

^^silveny's eyes are closer to her original color. ig human air brings out the horse genes

polyglots don't have noticeable accents when speaking languages, they just kind of adapt to the dialect and accent of who they are around (which i think is canon basically) EXCEPT for sophie and keefe speaking english. sophie grew up in socal and keefe has spent so much time in london, which reflects in how they speak. 

i'm not saying keefe has a british accent btw it's just a faint twang

the twins didn't actually dip their hair in melted silver (duhhh it would burn), 11 year old tam just wanted a really metal (haha) story to tell people. it's basically the elvin equivalent of box dye and the maintenance is their sibling bonding time

they did however melt their registry pendants into matching pieces of jewelry. i'm not entirely sure what but my gut is going earrings or another kind of piercing

people think biana is really material pretty girl which i think in a sense is true but also i think she just looks like that. in my mind fitz is the one that is getting all prettied up to do an aesthetic study session and stand around his giant mansion. he's the elvin equivalent of wearing a fitted suit to the grocery store

not a hc but dex canonically has curly hair and yet is never drawn like that in any official art what the hell guys

after his adventures in humanland keefe got really invested in human celebrity drama and insisted dex solar power an iphone so he could keep up

he has like 20 vpns and ultra encryption more secure than the registry just so he can partake in internet fandom culture

sophie got jealous and dex made one for her too. she was so happy when she saw the latest paramore album that she lost control and inflicted it on everyone in the room and that five seconds were the closest elves have gotten to the feeling of hard drugs 

gay ppl exist in the lost cities but they see it as like a "fool around when ur an unmarried kid" kinda thing like they're roman soldiers

tam is gay or at the least bisexual i don't care if you don't ship him or whatever 

sophie and keefe were having a conversation abt the gay guy keefe met in london and she was like explaining the whole thing bc it's not a very loud culture in the lost cities and tam overheard them and was really hyperfixated on the idea of gay marriage for like a month

i'm not going to explain how keefe reacted and what played out from there bc i could write a kam fic abt that instead of putting it in my gen hc post

the words "kam fic" should tell u enough though

the friend group has collectively agreed to never take marella to the forbidden cities bc she will become addicted to nicotine through vaping 

"flavored air"??? cmon now

though the idea of lighting a cigarette as a pyrokinetic is kinda badass. like in the linh chapter when she made that ball of fire?? imagine she just tapped a cig to the side of that thing and took a hit that's so fucking cool

the ethnic ambiguity of the elves makes no sense to me like duhhh you don't have a nationality the lost cities is scattered all over the world but that doesn't mean u don't have an ethnicity?? black people literally exist in the lost cities and they're not described in any kind of weird way. so wdym the twins "look asian to humans" they're asian bro they live like 500 miles from the coast of japan

that's more of a critique of generally how asians are written in fiction actually tho

anyways the twins are vietnamese and korean 

"song is a chinese name!!!!" ok korean people have chinese names sometimes. sophie describes them as looking like kpop idols. there r so many korean people in socal i'm sure she knows the difference

dex listened to too much of sophie's 2010's emo music and tried to make an instrument to emulate the sound of an electric guitar

he did it but if you told any human person that was an electric guitar they would explode and die

it plays more like a piano but without the keys?? which actually makes it more of a horizontal harp i guess. and ur supposed to use telekinesis to change octave mid song if u need to. it supports two at once and u can start at any note. there's more but uhhhh i'm not gonna bore you 

that's all for now and this is hella long but i'll reblog with more as i think of them

[ms-snape]

Hiii, this is my first time requesting from you,

i literally love you writing so much your one of my favorite 😖❤️

but i was wondering if you could write a father snape x teen reader, (takes places where snape didn’t die)and like the reader is emo cause they are a teen in the middle 2000’s listening to My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy, Paramore, and Get Scared, and they would have like a the whole emo get up like the hair, the clothes the makeup.

-🫁

tyysssm if you do this request and pleasee never leave like i love your writing ❤️

Title: A Phase

Warning: Dramatic teenager

Words Count: 2000+

A/N: Hey, thanks so much for ur support.... i litteraly spent the last few hours writing this casue i really loved ur request, it's my first time writing on my phone cause my laptop is broken so sorry if it's not so good, hope u'll like it anyway <3

Masterlist

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It was a typical morning in the Snape household—gray clouds hanging like a permanent shroud over the world, the smell of burnt toast wafting from the kitchen, and the quiet hum of a home that seemed to have forgotten what joy sounded like. Severus Snape, master of potion-making and most things dour, sat at the table, stirring his tea with the precision of someone who could brew Polyjuice Potion in his sleep. His daughter, Y/N, however, was a different matter entirely.

Y/N was fifteen, a teenager of the modern era. Gone were the days of owl post and sweet letters from family friends—now, she communicated with grunts, eye rolls, and an abundance of black eyeliner.

Severus watched as she slouched into the kitchen, her long, jet-black hair cascading over her shoulders like a thick, tangled curtain. She was wearing a band tee—My Chemical Romance—that hung loosely on her frame, paired with ripped skinny jeans and boots that could probably double as weapons. The most striking thing about her, however, wasn’t her attire. It was her face, which bore the unmistakable expression of someone whose world had just ended.

"Morning, dad" she said flatly, plopping down into the chair across from him. Her voice was heavy with the sort of teenage angst that made Severus, for a brief moment, question whether he'd made the right decision in surviving the war.

"Morning," Severus replied dryly, eyeing her over the rim of his mug. "I assume you slept well? The usual… nightmares, emotional breakdowns, and furious texting with your friends?"

Y/N didn’t respond immediately. She merely picked up a piece of toast, inspecting it as though it might reveal some deep philosophical secret before taking a bite. Severus sighed. He was well aware that Y/N was in the throes of what Muggles referred to as an "emo phase"—but what fascinated him was how seriously she took it.

She set the toast down and wiped a few stray crumbs from her lips, glancing at her father with an expression that suggested she'd just been insulted.

"It’s not a phase," she muttered. "I’m just… expressing myself."

"Ah," Severus drawled, leaning back in his chair. "Expressing yourself through eyeliner and emotional turmoil." His voice dripped with mock sympathy. "Is that what the children are calling it these days?"

Y/N shot him a look—a mix of frustration, embarrassment, and what could only be described as the intense energy of a volcanic eruption waiting to happen.

"You wouldn’t understand," she said dramatically, pushing her chair back with the kind of force that suggested it might never be the same again. She stood, her mood oscillating between rage and sorrow, before she grabbed her phone from the table and began scrolling through it with frenzied intensity.

Severus couldn’t help it. He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching in what could only be described as amusement. It had taken him a long time to realize that there were few things more entertaining than watching a teenager grapple with the profound confusion of being… well, a teenager.

"I understand," Severus said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I understand that your generation has somehow decided that black clothing and a constant aura of disappointment are the appropriate responses to life’s many disappointments."

Y/N groaned, throwing herself dramatically onto the sofa. "Dad! You’re so annoying," she complained, her voice muffled as her face buried itself into a throw pillow.

Severus took a sip of his tea, savoring the silence that followed. It didn’t last long. Y/N’s phone screen lit up, and a sharp, piercing shriek rang through the house.

"Ugh!" Y/N screeched, flinging the pillow to the side. "I can’t believe this! Why is my life so hard?!"

Severus rolled his eyes. If it wasn’t a friend drama, it was a crisis of identity. He had lived through wars, betrayals, and the death of a Dark Lord, but apparently, his daughter’s distress over her relationship status was far more harrowing than anything he’d experienced in his lifetime.

"What has happened now?" he asked, his voice filled with a kind of detached curiosity.

Y/N stared at her phone, her face contorting with the kind of emotion that only a teenage girl could muster. "I—" She cut herself off and shot him a look. "I thought I was dating this guy, but he just posted some… weird stuff on his Facebook, and now I don’t know if he even likes me anymore!"

Severus frowned, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. He had never fully understood the importance of social media, especially when it came to such trivial matters. He could hardly believe that a platform designed to share photos of one’s lunch could be the cause of such emotional devastation.

"And you believe this… 'Facebook' is the best way to judge a relationship?" he asked, leaning back in his chair again.

Y/N clutched her phone to her chest as if it were some ancient, sacred artifact. "Yes! It’s, like, everything. I’m… I’m, like, so embarrassed!" Her voice cracked as she slumped further into the couch.

"I see," Severus said, his tone flat. "And your emotional devastation is entirely tied to the fact that someone you may or may not have been dating posted something ambiguous on the internet. Is that about the sum of it?"

Y/N groaned again. "Yes! But you don’t understand, Dad! You’re not a teenage girl in the 2000s with, like, all these expectations and pressure and—"

Severus waved a hand dismissively. "I’m not sure I care to understand. I’ve survived Dark Lords, death, and a rather unpleasant stint as a double agent. The intricacies of 'Facebook' are… beneath me."

She blinked at him, clearly unsure of whether to be offended or impressed by his nonchalant response.

"You’re the worst," she muttered, reaching for her headphones. "I’m going to listen to The Black Parade and just… die in peace."

The dramatic statement wasn’t even an exaggeration. Y/N had developed a particular attachment to the album over the past few months, much to Severus' bewilderment. The way she spoke of it was as though it were a direct line to her soul. She often wandered around the house, headphones on, staring off into space, as if contemplating the meaning of life—or, at the very least, the meaning of her high school existence.

Severus watched her slip the earbuds into her ears, the soft notes of Welcome to the Black Parade filtering through the air. He sat for a moment in the quiet, the rhythmic thrum of teenage angst in the background.

"Your generation," he muttered, "has a strange way of processing its feelings."

Y/N’s only response was to pull her hoodie over her head and make an exaggerated display of ignoring him. Severus sighed again, leaning back in his chair. It was going to be one of those days.

As the hours ticked by, Severus found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the unfolding drama that was his teenage daughter. Y/N had settled into her usual spot on the couch, slouched in such a way that even the cushions appeared uncomfortable. The haunting sound of The Black Parade filled the room, her earbuds a barrier between herself and the world. Severus had never truly understood music as a form of self-expression, but he couldn’t deny the way it seemed to fuel the fire of her mood swings.

His attention, however, wasn’t on the music. It was on the very real crisis unfolding in the kitchen, which involved a half-empty mug of coffee, a packet of stale biscuits, and—of course—her phone.

He knew, deep down, that today wasn’t just about boy drama.

"Y/N," he called out, interrupting the symphony of despair. "If you're going to continue wallowing in there, at least spare the rest of us from your suffering."

Y/N ignored him, her thumb furiously scrolling through the latest social media gossip. Severus’ dark eyes narrowed. He didn’t expect much, but there was something… different about today. Something that wasn’t just the usual teenage melodrama.

"Y/N," he repeated, this time more firmly. She pulled one earbud out, glaring at him as if he were some ancient, cranky wizard who didn’t understand the intricacies of life.

"What?" she snapped, clearly put out that her father was interrupting her sacred time of self-reflection.

"Come here."

Y/N sighed dramatically. "I’m literally about to have a breakdown, and you want me to come over there?"

"Yes," Severus said with the patience of a man who had survived far worse. "You’ll be fine. Come. Now."

He watched as his daughter trudged over with all the enthusiasm of a dead ferret, her boots making soft thuds on the floor as she plopped herself down across from him at the table.

Her eyes were redder than usual, but it wasn’t from crying. It was a more subtle form of rebellion—those dark circles beneath her eyes were the product of sleepless nights spent contemplating the meaning of life… or, more likely, staring at her phone until the early hours of the morning.

"Now," Severus said, folding his hands in front of him. "What’s this all about?" He gestured toward her phone.

Y/N stared at the device in her hands, a scowl crossing her face. She hesitated for a moment before handing it over, her lips curling in frustration. "Look. It’s him. Again."

Severus took the phone with a sigh, his finger scrolling over the screen as he half-listened to the chorus of I’m Not Okay blasting from the speakers. There was a picture of a boy—Zane, if he remembered correctly—standing with another girl. His arms were draped over her shoulders, and the caption read: "Found someone who gets me."

Severus blinked, silently processing this. For a moment, he entertained the thought of delivering a lecture on how people who post intimate photos on social media are, in fact, "attention-seeking," but instead, he chose the far more efficient route.

He handed the phone back. "I see," he said simply. "It seems he’s discovered the joys of… complicated relationships."

Y/N’s face contorted as though she might collapse into a full-blown tantrum. "How can he do that? We were supposed to be exclusive!"

Severus couldn’t resist the opportunity for sarcasm. "You were exclusive? Ah. How very modern of you. And by ‘exclusive,’ I presume you mean that both of you agreed to not date anyone else, and instead, post your personal lives online for anyone who might care to comment?"

Y/N buried her face in her hands, groaning in despair. "You don’t get it, Dad! He’s playing games, and I can’t deal with this! Why does everything always have to be so hard?"

Severus stared at her, letting the weight of his silence sink in for a moment. Then, almost on instinct, he did what he did best: he deflected.

"You could, perhaps, spend your energy focusing on more… important matters," he said, his voice dry. "You know, things like your studies, or—dare I say it—anything outside of Zane’s social media feed."

She looked up from her hands, startled by the suggestion. "What’s the point? I know everything about this stuff already! It’s not like school is any better. People are, like, always judging me for—" She trailed off, her cheeks flushing. "For how I dress, or how I look, or whatever."

"People," Severus echoed, his tone distant. "Well, Y/N, allow me to remind you that people rarely understand anything of value, and when it comes to judgment, they tend to focus on the superficial. You—however—are anything but superficial. You have… depth."

Y/N blinked at him, clearly not expecting this. "You think I have depth?"

"Of course," Severus said, genuinely now. "A great deal of it. But that has nothing to do with Zane’s latest stunt on Instagram." He leaned forward, speaking in a rare moment of fatherly wisdom. "You will outgrow this phase. And when you do, you’ll look back on all of this and wonder why you ever let it affect you."

Y/N stared at him for a long moment, her brow furrowed in thought. "You really think that?"

Severus' mouth twitched into a thin, sardonic smile. "I know that. I was a teenager once, too."

That hit harder than anything else, and for a moment, Y/N seemed to forget her personal crisis. "Wait. You? You went through… a phase too?"

"Of course," Severus said, leaning back, his fingers steepled before him. "I’m not immune to the whims of adolescent turmoil. I spent many years making poor choices in the name of identity. That’s… what being a teenager is, isn’t it? The search for something deeper, something more real, even if it comes with a great deal of melodrama."

Y/N blinked at him again, as though seeing him for the first time. "What did your phase look like?"

Severus' expression darkened ever so slightly, but his voice remained calm. "Let’s just say that I had a very specific taste in clothing, and a… particular fondness for the darker aspects of magic."

Y/N’s eyes widened. "You were an emo wizard?"

Severus’ lips quirked, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he glanced at the clock on the wall. "I think you’d best be off to school, unless you plan on failing your O.W.L.s next year over a boy who doesn’t understand how to use his brain properly."

Y/N hesitated for a moment longer, staring at him as if trying to figure out if he was being sincere. Finally, she sighed.

"Okay, fine. But I’m not talking to Zane anymore. I’m over it." She said it with the finality of someone who was… definitely not over it.

Severus watched as she trudged back to her room, headphones in place, dramatic teenage angst in full swing once again. But there was a hint of something different in her expression—something that suggested she might actually be listening, even if she wasn’t fully ready to admit it.

And for the first time in a long while, Severus allowed himself to feel a fleeting sense of pride.

[mechs-headcanons]

Been thinking about Tim preferring to use his earth phone over a spphone or whatever communication devices the mechs use .. he's let it be modified to be compatible with those things , but other than that it's a normal phone . i like to think its the same one he had on earth but that probably wouldn't be possible so it's probably just one he bought .. thinking of it as the same one he had on earth is funnier though .

Also like to think maybe tim still celebrates holidays . or at least christmas . he seems like a guy who would really like christmas to me . first day of december back on earth he IS decorating his room and the outside of his room to be christmas themed and everything . maybe he collects some things he thinks the other mechs would like in the time before christmas and gives them to the others as gifts :3 he's also definitely got a little fake tree he sets up in his room and decorates ..

he also celebrates his birthday occasionally . it usually depends on if he remembers or not . (( he always remembers Bertie's birthday though . I don't know if he would do much , but he always remembers . ))

tim definitely has an august birthday , and honestly berties birthday could be jan/mar/may .. also is it just me or do months have colors and that's how I assign birthdayless characters birthdays . like august is a really crisp orange and january is light blue , March is light green , and may is a light yellowish green . anyway .

tim could definitely tell you about various earth medias and things , but definitely not anything super popular . he doesn't know any actors or really famous people aside from some popular musicians . if you ask him about things on earth prepare to be told about something the average earth person has never even heard of probably . all his favorite artists and bands are decently obscure , same for everything else . only really popular things he liked were fnaf and utdr . also splatoon but i feel like that's not a very popular Nintendo media (( <- had a VERY HUGE OBSESSION with Splatoon and like nobody knew what it was even though like how ??? ))

also . bands/artists I think he'd like -> pinkshift is definitely his all time favorite . casual enjoyer of jhariah , destroy boys , cavetown . he also listens to a lot of other music but those are just the artist where he's listened to like pretty much every song and not just one or two . OH he would also love vocaloid to me . fav producer is ferry . oh he would also LOVE driveways probably .. artist he only listens to a little of would maybe be blink-182 , doll skin , Paramore , vial , maybe a little bit of mcr . okay I just realized im giving him my music taste 😿 whatever .....

idk man i love tim so much . shaking him around / aff

-🔧⚙️

all of this is so valid. i think tim would listen to green day. on occasion.

[queenofthepirates83]

can u do a slenderman x fem! Reader who works for him but ends up falling in love with him and confesses while she's drunk and afterwards she uses alcohol for her escape?

I hope I did this right, sorry if I misunderstood anything; sorry for the delay, anon !

Tag: Fluff but angst(kinda…I mean you do try to leave)

TW: you fall in love with a tentacle demon man, alcohol, epic running scene at the end 😼

Words: 599

A/N: I found this a little interesting while listening to Paramore so hopefully Paramore will give me the motivation to write and post lmao

You stood outside Slenderman’s door, the door to his office. You worked as one of his proxies so you had an unspoken right to be there.

You had a bottle of alcohol in your hand, nearly empty, one sip and it was done.

You were intoxicated, in other words drunk. You had shut your eyes a few seconds after you knocked…you opened them again to knock once more. You waited…and waited until the door finally opened.

In all actuality it was only a few seconds rather than hours before he opened the door. Your perception of time was fucked up when you drank, which is why Slender hated when you drank, it messed you up and your missions.

Anyway…when Slender saw what state you were in he sighed. “We went over this.”

“No.” You smiled, holding the bottle up as you walked inside. “Want some?”

He ‘stared’ at you with a blank expression(pun so intended). “I don’t intend to drink any time soon…why are you here?”

You looked at him and shrugged. “I love you.”

He seemed to visibly paused. Although he had been confessed to by residents of the manor, people passing by, and even in his past life. He had never been confessed to by one of his proxies.

You were one of his proxies, of course.

He didn’t say anything for a while, you just stared at him.

He nodded finally, staying silent.

“Uhm.” You paused, pursing your lips as you took a last drink out of your bottle. You looked down at it. “I need more beer.” You looked up at him. “Can I go get some beer?”

He nodded slowly. “You may. I can get Mas-“

“Noooo…nonono. I’m great. I got this by myself.”

He simply nodded and waved you off.

You left, closing the door behind you.

You ended up leaving by yourself, the broken bottle still in your hand(which you accidentally broke when stumbling out of the manor).

You ran off into a random direction, not caring where it would take you as long as it took you away from where you were. As long as you didn’t have to come back to the manor.

Slenderman, of course, knew what you were trying to do, sending Masky and Hoodie off to find you.

They did end up finding you, but this is what led into you three playing a game of cat and mouse. You had to be a little more sneaky with your movements, being one of the sneakier ones out of all the proxies, it was easy for you. You knew where to step, how to step, whatever let you be quiet in getting away. Sure you were drunk, but that didn’t subside your skills.

You may have been in love with The Operator, 𝘛𝘏𝘌 Slenderman, the creature who took control of your mind, but you needed to get away.

As your back was stuck to a tree, your ears twitching at every sudden sound. You suddenly heard a small “boo” in your ear. Which made you immediately stand up and start running. You weren’t the fastest proxy, no, that was probably between Hoodie and Cathunter…ok Kate was probably the fastest proxy, but you for sure were not the best runner. You booked it immediately, not wanting to go back.

You stumbled in every small step you took, your drunk and hazy mind not doing you well as you tried to run away from your own partners.

You felt a hand on your shoulder as you were yanked back, your vision going black as you hit the ground.

[noirrart]

Get To Know You - Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf!<3

Any eating utensil preferences? — Just a spoon and fork, though occasionally I like using chopsticks. It all depends on what kind of food I'm eating.

A genre of music you love? — I don't think I have a singular/only genre that I love, but I definitely love listening to musicals, movie/series soundtracks, indie/alt rock, and pop. If it scratches the itch in my brain, then I'm gonna listen to it religiously for sure. If I'm gonna be specific, aka what artists/musicals, then I usually listen to MICO, Paramore, Radiohead, Foo Fighters, The Offspring, EPIC: The Musical, Hamilton, Ado, Pitbull, Rihanna, Coldplay, Wallows, and Chase Atlantic 🙂‍↕️

A type of seasoning/condiment that would make anything edible for you? — Kimchi, if it counts as a condiment. But any type of seasoning with a kick of spice or saltiness is enough for me.

Pens or pencils? What kind? — I like both as long as they make thick lines! So, pretty much anything 0.7 or 1.0 is a big yes to me.

What's your weirdest/most interesting hobby? — I don't think I have any hobbies that seem weird or interesting, but the only thing I can think of is that I do journalism (well, DID journalism when I was in elementary to high school). I did radio broadcasting, news writing, and then editorial writing!

Favorite real person that you don't personally know? — Pedro Pascal, Oscar Isaac, and Hayden Christensen.

How many alarms do you have set? — 4 alarms that are 30 minutes apart, ranging from 4:30 am to 6:00 am. I'm usually up before/during the first alarm. They're not currently in use though since school's over MWHAHAHA

Do you have any pets? Do you want some? — I have a dog named Chewie!

Favorite drink, alcoholic or non? — Lemonade and Yakult, but if it's an alcoholic drink, then I'll go with Soju.

Favorite shoes? — I dress kinda lazy and boy-ish most of the time, so I usually just wear any of my sneakers, Birks with socks, or Doc Martens.

Favorite smell? — Anything that smells fresh and doesn't have an insanely strong scent… and isn't vanilla, coconut, or "birthday cake".

How do you feel about bugs and spiders? — Butterflies and moths? BIG NO (anything that flies crazy is a massive hell nah to me). The only spiders I can tolerate are jumping spiders since I find them cute.

Outdoors or indoors? — I'm fine with either, but I usually spend my days indoors since there isn't much to do where I live, it's pretty boring… sigh

Sunny or rainy? — RAINY 100%, I'm so tired of the hot Philippine weather, I'd do anything to have some cold/chilly climate constantly.

Where would you really like to visit? — Italy is at the top of the list!! But I'd love to just travel anywhere in the world.

Are you a "people person"? — Sort of? I'm a little shy meeting and talking to new people, but I'm definitely able to match energy quickly as long as they aren't the type to think that being "nonchalant/edgy" or being overly mean is cool 🥀🥀🥀

At what temperature do you keep your home (or would if you could?) — Uhm, I don't use a thermostat in the house, but I have the air conditioning in my room set to 16°C, but even then it feels like it's around 20-30°C 💀.

NPT, no clue if y'all did this already, but I'm tagging anyways 😭: @ladyazura19 @jetii @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @orangez3st @returnofthepineapple @cyaretra @bigbootyclencher @nika6q @wrenkenstein and anyone else who'd like to do this as well c:

[sunlit6279]

what kind of music do you think the arcane characters would listen to? asking because you seem like a chill dude

First off, anon what’s your opinion on marriage? Hey, anon, what’s your ring size? Secondly 😃 and for reals this time, this is a brilliant ask, I’ll happily take up on your request

But just fyi, I’m BIG into popculture. AND gen z (don’t throw tomatoes at me omg) so maybe you can imagine what kind of music I listen to 😭 but I also like to think that my playlist can be quite diverse. But idk we might still have a very different music taste soooo eh. Yeah idk just wanted to put a ⚠️disclaimer⚠️ here I guess so that y’all don’t come and bash me because it’s literally music and I just saw an opportunity to yap so I’m doing this 😭🎀 Simply put, this is for funsiesss hope you get a laugh?

⚠️a few more disclaimers; not proofread, I was a bit too invested in this (and crazy), I took the modern AU approach!⚠️ So anyways all of this to finally say; I’m starting with our favorite hot-headed lesbian,

Vi

YOU KNOW she’s screaming from the top of her lungs singing this! Oh and imagine this! rookie Rockstar!Vi covering this song in front of an audience, probably during a school festival or something and the crowd goes crazy. Her beloved girlfriend Caitlin is in the crowd. But do you know who else in the crowd? Right next to Caitlin? Maddie. Violet knows what has been going on during their break, and this is a message directed to her. Maddie was trying hard to seduce Caitlin to get her for herself. But she notices quickly all of this was in vain when her “date” next to her is headbanging and genuinely smiling ear to ear for the first time in her presence. When the song ends, Vi spits cocky: “Get your ass out here. Caitlin’s mine.” Her band roars proudly in response 😎

AND YOU KNOW that Vi switched to she/her pronouns to make Caitlin know that she meant her and only her.

OR, YOU KNOW that Vi and Caitlin went to Paramore’s concert when they performed this song for the last time ever and they were having a blast and making out to this song for sure! ☺️ Vi was fired up and Caitlin loved every second of it.

Viktor

The slowed version because that’s just the typa person Vik is 🙂‍↕️ (pls ignore the image used for the song lmfao) But either way. Hear me out, okay? This was a suggestion from Jayce (so no I’m not at fault here! 🙂‍↔️). And yes, Viktor’s response was just as anyone expected: He raised his brow when he looked back at his lab partner. “You’re kidding?”

Panicky, Jayce flapped his hands to ease Viktor’s annoyance. “I hear this song everywhere and it always makes me think of you…! It’s not what I usually listen to but it gets into your brain before you know it. I genuinely thought you’d like it just a little bit. I mean… won’t you give it a listen?”

“Yeah, wrong guy, Jayce.” Jayce nodded quickly and accepted his fate. “Yeah, okay, I know this was dumb of me.”

Viktor didn’t add a word and continued his research back in his corner. Jayce grimaced, cursing at himself. “I-I’ll leave you to it, then. Text me when you’re home.”

The moment Viktor heard the door shut behind him, he sighed. He tucked his hair strings behind his ear and got back to work.

Much later, he noticed his tension grew bigger. He wasn’t being on task at all. Jayce was right. The short snippet he showed Viktor was already stuck in his head. He tried hard not to succumb to the temptation, trying to prove the air in the room that he wasn’t already a little bit hooked. Whether he’d listen to the full song and like it or not.

He looked at the time and smacked his lips. Jayce might be worried at this exact moment but Viktor felt like he couldn’t leave just now. He “barely made any progress”, he thought. He took a big breath and ran his hands over his hair. “I need a break.” He leaned over the counter to feel more relaxed and grabbed his phone in his pockets to surf the internet. But he had to take a double take when he realized he was in fact on his music app and not on social media. Already tapping the search bar. Viktor furrowed his eyebrows, aggravated by himself.

“Tsk.” He typed the lyrics he understood reluctantly, hoping that was enough for the engine to recognize what he meant. Luckily, it did. He let the song play in the background while he finally did what he intended to do with his phone: Surf the internet. When he was done with his break, he let it play on a loop “unknowingly”. He told himself he was too busy to risk and touch his phone now. That would interrupt his flow, he said.

Needless to say, it didn’t take long until he was swaying his body and snapping his fingers to the beat contently while he continued his research.

(and you KNOWWWWW he’s feeling cvnty the more he listens to the song, Jayce absolutely loves seeing that side of Vik, too!) (Jayce asked him once, “oh so what does it mean?” Vik responded with, “you wouldn’t understand”)

Mel

My woman. Oh how much I love her. Come on, we’ve been knowing she’d listen to lots of Beyoncé. She mostly listens to this when she’s already on a high and it’s physically impossible to hold her back. Usually it’s Elora next to her, sitting on the couch inside the karaoke room, holding her own microphone tight to her chest, absolutely fascinated by the performance she’s witnessing. Elora knows that her best friend can be a bit of a dork sometimes, but it amazes her every time anyways when it happens. But she doesn’t stay starstruck for too long, when Mel pulls her in to join her performance. They both rap Jay-Z’s part together, afterwards exchanging verses, Elora filling on the adlibs, the high notes, while Mel is grinding on her to make them both feel something. Hairs are being swung, physical space is non-existent and laughter filling the room 🥹❤️❤️ ugh I LOVE girls being silly together!!!! (I genuinely love what they have here!!! I love gays girls!!!! I love happy Mel!!!!!)

(oh and imagine Mel in a white y2k outfit that gives BEYONCÉ and her loose hair is POPPING. see how much she’s glowing?)

Ekko

YOU KNOWWWWW Ekko’s a huge fan of Kendrick since FOREVER (and is gobbling up his new album yupyup 🙂‍↕️) and went absolutely feral this summer when this song dropped and cheered when he knew he was on the winner’s side. Ekko is a complete music nerd and will tell you every reference and metaphor of this song alone. Powder asked him ONCE (1) about the rap battle between Kenny and Drake and got info dumped within 0.000000001s :))) She loved it. Hearing him sing makes her want to move her body with him. She knows Ekko isn’t really the type to sing in front of people so when he gets all hyped up and shows this side of him she feels special.

There’s a chance they did a TikTok together too… 🌝 but it might be in the drafts oops

(by now, he fully memorized the whole song 🙂🙂)

Claggor

Yup. Him. The man. I know it’s random but I can’t get him out of my head,, So this is more like a self-indulgent bonus. You’re welcome! xx

BUT IMAGINE! He was sent to make the dishes and he was soooooo not feeling it at first until he bit through it and listened to music to make him feel a bit more motivated. When this started to play he was LOCKED. IN. He did the whole “imagining he’s in an edit” kinda thing, jumping in place, flexing his muscle at literally no one at all, singing some verses aloud because he was so into it. Which he rarely does. Claggor is not a singer. Maybe a shower singer but everyone at home quickly shrugs it off, because honestly, who hasn’t done it before? But imagine his surprise when he sensed someone next to him, slowly handing him a plate.

“Uh—”

Vander pulled a face. “Wanna talk about it?”

Claggor simply shook his head awkwardly.

Ugh 😩 you guys I love him so much??? I hate men but I would let him in my bed (/hj)

no but in all seriousness, I can’t really tell why I chose this song but it just felt right? I imagine Claggor to be this cool, chill guy and genuinely funny to be around

and this song (among many others ofc) just oozes that vibe