#i was part of the other half of the class that kept forgetting to use 'desu' at all sdhfhssdhf

[melverie]

So I've seen some discussion about the way Mammon talks in 24-11, and how some think Asmo forced Mammon to speak this way while others think it might be because of a issue with the translation. And since I speak some Japanese, I figured I'd break down what's actually going on here

If you don't want to read through the Japanese grammar explanation, just skip to the last section, but for everyone else I'll try to break it all down. Just keep in mind that I'll simplify some things to (hopefully) make it easier to understand for those that don't speak Japanese

Right away, here's the dialogue above in the Japanese version + written in Romaji for those that can't read Japanese:

understanding sentence-ending particles

(not really relevant to Mammon's dialogue itself, but I think it'll help make the function of 「です」 ('desu') and 「ます」 ('masu') in the next section a little clearer)

Sentence-ending particles serve to indicate the overall tone a sentence is meant to have. There are a few of them and each one gives the meaning of the sentence a different nuance

The two easiest examples to understand this concept are probably the following:

the 「か」 ('ka') particle basically just a spoken question mark; turns any sentence into a proper question

the 「ね」 ('ne') particle literally functions the same way as 'isn't it'

ちょっと寒い。 ('chotto samui') -> It's a little cold.

ちょっと寒いか。 ('chotto samui ka') -> Is it a little cold?

ちょっと寒いね。 ('chotto samui ne') -> Bit cold, innit? It's a little cold, isn't it?

the auxilary verbs 「です」 ('desu') and 「ます」 ('masu')

Similarly to the sentence-ending particles, these two change the tone of the sentence and are placed at the end. Both make the sentence polite, and depending on what the sentence ends with, you use one or the other. If it ends in a verb, you add 「ます」 ('masu') at the very end, and if it ends in anything else you use 「です」 ('desu')—you cannot use both back to back

Which finally brings us back to Mammon's dialogue

As you can see, he goes a little overboard. Since 「やり直す」 ('yari naosu'; 'to redo') is a verb, the first use of 「ます」 ('masu') is correct, but everything after that is just overkill and wrong but it sounds very cute (The way Mammon speaks here actually reminds me of how half of my classmates used to speak the first few weeks of uni lol)

But yeah, it's definitely not Asmo forcing Mammon to speak differntly since all of the brothers are talking more politely. And given that they're all under Asmo's charm and serving him, it makes sense that they'd adopt a similar manner of speaking as Barbatos. It's just that Mammon is the King of Casual Speech™, dancing gracefully between 'still acceptable' and 'straight up rude' more or less gracefully at least, so obviously he'd struggle with switching to a more butler-like speech style

It's the same with Beel actually. He's usually the type to just cut straight to the point, which is why he also slightly messed up when speaking politely. To me the original Japanese version reads more like a cute little joke that's in line with both their character, that unfortunately got lost in translation since English just doesn't have an equivalent

[coralinnii]

Hi! How's it going?

Can I please request Leona, Riddle, Cater and Ace reacting to the reader wearing someone else's jacket?

‧₊˚✧New Jacket, Who Dis? ‧₊˚✧

↳ forgetting your jacket and wearing someone else’s  

feat: Leona ❋ Riddle ❋ Cater ❋ Ace genre: humor, fluff note: no pronouns used for reader, reader is implied to be smaller than Floyd, nicknames used for reader (cutie, babe, baby), established relationships, reader is implied to be from Ramshackle,

I swear I will get these requests completed even if it kills me. Damn my tendency to go into hibernation during winter! Anyway, hope you guys enjoy the reading ^///^

Part 1 2.7k followers writing event

Leona has jackets? 

I mean, you were sure Leona owns a plethora of high-end jackets and outerwear of the finest fabrics but be it a preference or perhaps too much of an effort, you rarely see the beastman wear anything other than a shirt and at best a dorm-mandated vest.

So, when you feel a chill down your spine on your way to class, the idea of asking your boyfriend for a jacket did not cross your mind. Can’t ask for what you’ve never seen.

A classmate of yours saw your pitiful form and offered you his school blazer. Something better than nothing, he thought. 

Grateful, you were quick to take up his kind offer and practically snuggled your face into it for warmth. Now in a better mood, you got through the first half of the day and quickly made your way to the greenhouse where you suspect a certain lion beastman is hiding. 

But it seems that said beastman wasn’t in high spirits as you were when with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw, he raised his palm towards you signaling you to step no closer to him. 

An unfamiliar scent unpleasantly wafted through Leona’s territory, and to his annoyance, you appeared to be the source of it. 

No, not you…That wretched jacket.

Leona doesn’t have to ask. He can surmise the situation on his own, the weather was chilly, you being stupid enough to leave without something cozy, and some brave or stupid herbivore handing you something with his scent even though you were the partner of a beastman. Though irritating, logically this was not something surprising… but he doesn’t have to like it regardless. 

And he doesn’t. 

Pointing towards you, he further narrowed his gaze on the jacket that has tainted you with its irritating stench of another man. “Oi, take it off.” 

Though confused, you did as he said (lest you want him even grumpier, you thought) and placed your friend’s jacket onto Leona’s outstretched hand. 

Suddenly and without warning, the dark-haired upperclassman harshly tossed the fabric to a random direction, with such feelings of disgust and annoyance radiating off from Leona, you would think the jacket spat in his meal or something. 

But no matter how many times you tried to ask for his reasons or how many times you begged him to let you go after pulling you into his arms so you could retrieve the abandoned jacket, Leona said nothing as he kept his grip strong around you as he fell asleep once more, lulled by your unobstructed scent. 

“Ruggie can grab my jacket for you so quit harping about it…You feel bad for Ruggie for the trouble? Tch, who’s fault you think that is?”

Riddle’s appearance is perfect to a T. From his bow tie to his socks, the Heartslabyul housewarden chooses his attire to what is required; nothing is missing and nothing in excess. 

Basically, he wouldn’t have a spare jacket nor can he part away from the required blazer of his school uniform despite how he honestly wanted to. 

You understood his hesitance completely and didn’t probe further. Unfortunately, it left you noticeably shivering, and Floyd just had to mention your shivering form akin to a jittery guppy. Learning your predicament, the tall mischief-maker had a fun idea. 

Which led to you finally leaving the classroom after Floyd finished his giggling fit seeing you looking practically devoured by his jacket. Floyd is a tall eel merman so the length of the sleeves and hem were certainly longer than an average uniform. 

“Go ahead and wear it, just give it back later.” The sophomore graciously lent his jacket to you, but you suspected that he just wanted to prolong the humiliation.

At least you were grateful he wasn’t there to laugh at you when Riddle saw you in this mortifying position. The taller student would have probably coughed up his human lungs from laughing at your boyfriend's stunned expression. 

“I…What is…” Riddle was dumbfounded. The sight of his beloved being swallowed by a jacket was not something he suspected. It is an amusing image to see, but definitely odd. 

What’s the procedure for this? This was hardly appropriate school attire, but Riddle was stumped as to what to do next since he can’t think of a rule that addresses your lover being dressed in someone else’s jacket in a comical fashion. 

Despite unable to complete his prior sentence, you knew what Riddle wanted to know. “…It’s Floyd’s. He thought it’d be funny.” 

There was a burning sensation bubbling in Riddle when he thought about the Octavinelle rascal, how close and unnecessarily clingy he probably was to you as he took glee in his nonsensical pranks. Then, an unpleasant thought sat in the redhead’s mind as he watched you roll up the sleeves of Floyd’s jacket draped over your form. That eel gave you his jacket while Riddle, your boyfriend, didn’t.

"I supposed I should have expected this, given my choice."

Riddle let out a sigh before extending a hand to you, his face flushing a familiar red hue. “It may be redundant, but perhaps I could offer my own jacket? A warmer one at least, I wouldn’t want you to needlessly catch a cold.” 

Happily, you took the sweet redhead’s offer. Walking together hand-in-hand, Riddle thought he could spare you a scolding about forgetting your jacket in the first place, so long as you rectify his mood by wearing his jacket instead. 

“As your boyfriend it should be my duty to protect and care for you, no one else’s.”

Cater would have no problem with sharing his jacket with you, if he can take some cute pictures of course. His wardrobe has a mixture of trendy and cool clothing due to his time at the Pop Music Club. It wasn't a matter of what he could offer but rather his time to even give this offer.

It was today of all days that he couldn’t find time to himself since there were some last-minute preparations needed for the Unbirthday party. You felt too guilty and nervous to suddenly ask your boyfriend for a jacket in all this commotion, so you tried to handle the cold without one. 

However, a classmate of yours was observant enough to notice your predicament and handed his jacket for the time being. 

You’ve stuck around the Unbirthday party, waiting for the festivities to settle and relax before scanning through the crowd to find the man with a beautiful shade of orange hair. 

But your boyfriend was quicker to find you as he surprised you first, covering your eyes from behind. “Guess who, cutie~?” 

Laughing, you didn’t bother to answer as you immediately spun around to leap straight into Cater’s arms, to which Cater happily returned in kind. 

“Looks like you got yourself some new threads. Almost couldn’t find you, cutie.” Referring to your newly acquired jacket, Cater could see the Heartslabyul emblem sewed onto its sleeve. Raising a quizzical brow, Cater questioned you, “Did you get it from the Adeuce duo?” 

His guess was wrong though as you told him a classmate of yours offered you his jacket, pointing him in the distance with his friends. Well now, that’s interesting. If it were one of his or your friends, that’s fine and dandy…but a random classmate…

Cater genuinely appreciated that his little underclassmen are chivalrous enough to help their fellow peers, but he admits that it’s a little different when it involves you. You’re special to him after all and he gotta make sure only he gets to give you the best boyfie treatment. 

With a smile on his face, Cater gently coaxed you out from the jacket before walking towards the oblivious student. “Let’s give him back his jacket, then we can head over to my room. I’ve got the perfect jacket for you to try out ♪”

“My cutie looks so ‘cammable in my jacket! This is definitely going on Magicam ♪ Oh, should we get matching couple outfits~?"

“Are you ever gonna stop sulking and tell me what’s wrong, Ace?”

“...” 

It doesn’t matter how long you two were dating, Ace would tease you so much if you ask for his jacket, it’s almost not worth it. You could already hear the redhead’s cheeky voice in your head. “Aww, is my baby feeling cold? Do you need your amazing boyfriend to warm you up?” 

Feeling a little petty and not in the mood for his teasing, you instead asked Deuce if he could spare his extra jacket for you. To your luck, he had his track team jacket on hand that he could offer to you. 

Warm and cozy, you met up with Ace who, upon seeing you, unceremoniously draped himself over you as he let out a deep sigh. “Ahh, I was so cold today. Thank Sevens you’re so warm.” 

Rolling your eyes affectionately, you wrapped your arms around him and rubbed his back soothingly. Glad you didn’t ask for his jacket, then. 

But as Ace shifted around in your arms, he looked over your jacket from his angle and felt a sneaking suspicion that he had seen it before…but not on you. “Hey babe, where’d you get the jacket from?” 

“Oh, it’s Deuce’s track team jacket. I borrowed it ‘cuz I forgot mine back at Ramshackle.” 

Which led to this predicament in Ace’s room, with the pouty freshman giving you the cold shoulder. Granted, it’s rather cute to see your boyfriend react so childishly over a jacket, but you’d preferred some cuddles right about now. 

But Ace kept on with his act. It may seem like an overreaction but to Ace, knowing that you asked for Deuce instead of him first left a sour taste in his mouth and a blow to his ego. He’s supposed to be your boyfriend, ain’t he? 

You sighed, having no choice but to “right your wrong”, then. 

Crawling to where your lover was, you leaned into the crook of his neck as your arms circled his waist. “Don’t be mad, I’m so cold and I need my strong, handsome boyfriend to warm me up with hugs~ Aaacceee…” 

Still met with silence, you upped the ante and started to press small pecks against his neck where you felt were getting hot and bumpy from your touch. Hiding your satisfied smile, you continued your onslaught of praises and coos. 

Damn you and your cuteness, he thought. Breaking his cold facade, Ace groaned in frustration as he pulled you into his arms, giving into the cuddles you wanted. 

“If you need something, you’d better be thinking of me first before anyone else, especially Deuce. Have some faith in your boyfriend here.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

🎶🎻 let's see if this actually helps me find this later

WIBTA for marking up my friend's sheet music?

ok so I (15m) have a friend (17f) and we both play cello in the classical music ensemble at our school. we have both been playing cello for approx 7 years. we had very different musical upbringings: she learned to play cello in a class with a bunch of other kids, and from what I gather there were many other instruments and the teacher took kind of a hands-off approach, which is typical for the kind of elementary school she went to. I, on the other hand, learned through private lessons (which I don't think I'm better for, it's just different) and my teacher (who I still take piano and cello lessons from) is a little bit obsessive when it comes to correct technique and stuff. I care a little less about technique than my teacher, but I definitely developed quite a few of her habits: I always pay really close attention to what the sheet music tells me, especially dynamics and which direction my bow needs to go in, or how many notes I'm playing in a bow stroke. part of this is because that's what the composer would have wanted and also because when I started my teacher would make me mark everything, and I mean EVERYTHING in my sheet music. we're talking fingerings, bow markings, highlighting every chreschendo and decrescendo, putting the counting in for all of the rhythms and more. now I typically only mark super important things, like if I keep forgetting a note or something, and I rarely mark my cello sheet music in ensembles, though everyone has seen me mark my bass music, since I'm new to bass.

Recently, since it's about 2/3rds of the way through the school year and we have a good group, my ensemble has been playing more challenging stuff. the parts or more intricately layered and dynamics are a pretty big thing, especially for the cello section, since we basically have one line for half of a piece which is just to play some half notes that crescendo and decrescendo over and over. and it's like, all we do, like it's a pretty big part of the song. the issue is that my friend just kind of ignores the dynamic markings and bowings in the music and what the other cellists are doing (there's three of us, including me and her and she sits in between us) so she just kinda plays the piece at the same volume. the whole time. and it's written right there. and she's heard me play it solo without the ensemble before, so in theory she knows how to do it. and after seven years of playing the cello, you should have the bow control to play quietly.

now, this wouldn't annoy me so much if her ignorance wasn't a recurring thing. last year, we played aquarius with the jazz ensemble and we both really liked the piece. except we had this one part. we had to play a bunch of tied whole notes in the beginning. just two in a row and then we'd change bows. (if you don't play an instrument, a tied note is basically when the note is played over two measures, in this case we would play the same note fore eight beats, and then reverse the direction of our bow) now, I can hold my bow in one direction for eight beats. it's not fun or easy and I'd rather play a melody or bass line to begin with, but if you're playing quietly (like we were supposed to be) you can maintain a pretty steady pace for eight beats in one bow. my friend NEVER did this. she would just run her bow back and forth on the note until we moved on to the next and then do the same there. and I'm talking like she'd play maybe ten notes while we played one. which, obviously, through off the rhythm. we weren't as close last year and I didn't know she'd been playing as long as she had, so I ignored it. but, she kept doing it and she still does. I've confronted her about it multiple times, saying how it's like if you breathed half way through a note on a wind instrument, how it messes us up because her bow will go in a different direction than the other cellos and hit me in the elbow a lot, and how it makes us look weirdly messy. every time she just kind of says okay and walks off.

now, I think my friend could benefit from having her sheet music marked like my teacher used to make me, because clearly just mentioning it to her is not enough and as we move on to harder music it's making us look worse. so, wibta if I brought some extra pens and highlighters and reminded her to circle or highlight different dynamic, rhythmic and bowing notations if she doesn't play them the first few times?

What are these acronyms?

[taesanluv3r]

lost in love songs.

han taesan x reader

a short, three part, friends to lovers story.

ੈ✩‧₊ hidden love unfolds when taesan's ipod nano accidentally ends up in the hands of his best-friend, yn. a certain playlist catches her eyes, revealing the true feelings kept within the depths of the boy's heart.

part one: for, yn.

shy introvert! taesan, loud extrovert! reader. some cuss words, myung jaehyun as reader's older brother, yang jungwon as class president! lowercase intended, excuse any spelling mistakes / grammatical errors! enjoy <3

wc: 2,044

masterlist 𖦹 part two 𖦹 part three

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"myung yn, han taesan. you guys are up for classroom duty today! don't forget to return the brooms to the closet when you're done, the keys go in mr. bang's office!"

yang jungwon, their class president, spoke from his seat at the very front of the class. his body turned towards the pair of best-friends who sat beside each other at the back corner of the room. "yup, got it" myung yn replies, shooting the dimple adorned boy two thumbs up and a sweet smile. jungwon tilts his head in the direction of the guy beside her, causing the girl to turn over to her left, eyes being met by han taesan. he seemed to be daydreaming, his nose pointed upwards as he stared at whatever was outside the window, his hearing blocked by the wired earphones that stuck into his ears. sighing, yn grabs at one side of the listening device, pulling him immediately out of his trance. "huh? did you say something?" taesan's voice is quiet as usual, his eyes widening slightly as he spoke. his friend chuckles, "we're on classroom duty today" she says, fidgeting with the silver heart-shaped charm on her bracelet. "maybe you should listen when class prezzy speaks" yn's statement makes him roll his eyes, "but that's what i have you for!" he shoots her an awkward smile, his teeth showing and his nose scrunched. "so what? i'm your only friend, and your messenger now?" her words sting a little, a glare taking over his previously smiley complexion.

the girl giggles as the bell rings, playfully pushing his shoulders as she gets up from her seat. "upwards, your majesty!" yn announces all too loudly in some sort of a terrible british accent, the shy introverted boy's face showing her a panicked expression as all eyes went onto them. she doesn't stop though, chest puffing out as she takes a deep breath, "we've got but the best of duties to fulfill! you must now-" her voice comes to a halt when he abruptly gets up, slapping his large hand over her mouth to shut her up before he got any more embarrassed than he already was. getting lightheaded, the girl taps at his arm, breathing heavily when she was released. "that was like…attempted murder…" she speaks between breaths, eyes growing big like her friend had just turned into some psycho killer. taesan just rolls his eyes, "maybe you should use your inside voice next time then" and he walks past her, heading to the closet at the very end of the classroom.

the pair of polar opposite friends begin their cleaning duties. i say polar opposites because that's exactly what they were. han taesan was only the biggest introvert in the world! that, and his rather cold demeanor meant that half the people that knew him were either intimidated or just flat out terrified of him. everyone except her, of course. myung yn, she might as well wear a massive E for extrovert on her head. yn was a star student, someone people were attracted to and wanted to be friends with. however, despite her sweet attitude and smile, the girl was rather picky about her acquaintances. so how did the han boy, who only wore long coats and ripped jeans when he wasn't wearing uniform, who prefers to read books over movies, who only listened to the curated playlists of music he pirated onto his dad's old ipod nano from 2005- that, and of course his own songs that he wrote in his free time- the guy who could barely keep up conversation with anyone without some help. how could he become friends with the myung girl? who wears short skirts even during the winter, enjoyed petting animals, watched home alone when it wasn't even close to christmas, the girl who's a hopeless romantic, always running her friend's ear off about that new rom-com she watched or her endless fantasies of her own longing for romance. how were these two antipodes, these two contradictory figures, how did they manage to be the best of friends?

well…to be honest with you, neither of them knew either. all they know is that one day, long ago in middle school, when the boy was too shy to make friends and had no one to talk to, some sort of an angel decided to sit him right beside the overly friendly girl. the one girl- no, scratch that- the one person, who willingly spoke to him when no one else would. and they've been inseparable since then. and despite their many differences, the pair got along just fine. if not, perfect.

"ugh…why do people still stick gum under their desks like this? the trash can is literally right there…" yn groaned, suddenly thankful for the blue rubber gloves she had put on when they started cleaning just ten minutes ago. her eyes wandered upwards and over to the boy when she hears no answer, another sigh escaping her lips when she sees him completely lost in his head once again, those same wired earphones from before plugged into the silver ipod that sat on the table beside where he was sweeping the floor. "earth to taesan?" he's shaken out of his thoughts when the girl appears right in front of him. "huh?" he asks, that phrase coming out of his mouth much too often for her liking. "were you talking to me?" she rolls her eyes, as if it were obvious. "what are you even listening to that's got you all distracted like this?" she wonders, a curious arm reaching out to grab onto the tiny music device. however, before she could even process the white buttons, the ipod was stolen away from her by its now flustered owner. yn cocks an eyebrow up, shooting him a perplexed look. "it…it's nothing! just a new song i've been working on…it's not done yet, i haven't finished it" the boy stutters, he rarely stutters around her, it was so unlike him to be hiding something from her- especially one of his songs that he was always so proud of. "weirdo" she mutters before going back to picking off gum from under her classmates' desks, not catching the way the boy stared at her for a minute, somewhat of a relieved sigh leaving his lips as he did so.

sooner or later, the pair had finished their duties, stuffing the cleaning supplies back in their classroom's closet before leaving and locking the door behind them. on their way out of their school, which had fallen silent apart from the basketball team who had stayed back to practice down in the sports centre, they stopped by the teachers' office to hook the classroom key back onto it's designated spot on the wall. they were on their way home now, or at least, on the way to her home. he always walked with her. even if his house was a whole other thirty minutes away from her neighbourhood in the opposite direction, he insisted on accompanying her every single day.

yn exhales as they walked down the side-walk path towards her complex, a cool breath escaping her lips and the girl starts to regret the fact that she had forgotten her school blazer when she was running late this morning. taesan notices, walking on the side of the street towards the road, shielding her from the cars speeding past them. "cold?" he asks, looking down at her slightly smaller figure. the girl shakes her head, "no" but her voice comes out shaky. the boy laughs out loud, beginning to remove his own school blazer from off of his shoulders. "you're a terrible liar" he says, tossing the article of clothing atop her head, blocking away her sight for just a moment before she grabbed a hold of it. "hold this" she demands, lazily passing him her light-pink backpack before throwing his blazer over her own shoulders, the oversized fit of it making him chuckle lightly. the pair of friends shared mindless conversation as they resumed their journey home, the harsh winds blowing against their hair causing them to squint slightly as they walked. alas, they make it to the front of her gated neighbourhood. the boy smiled softly as she waved him off, disappearing into the distance. taesan crosses the street carefully, turning around before making his long journey back to his own place.

"i'm home!" yn announces, closing the door behind her and tossing her shoes onto the rack to her right. "did your boyfriend walk you home again?" the teasing voice of her brother emerges from up the stairs. the girl rolls her eyes, "mom! jaehyun is bothering me again" she pouts, to which he just scoffs, "that's not a no~" she slaps him on the arm, "mom!!" and then her frown turns into a menacing smirk. "jae, stop bothering your sister!" their mother's voice is stern, echoing from over in the kitchen. "snitch" jaehyun says, pushing his little sister's head lightly as he followed her up the stairs and into her room.

"who's blazer is that? i thought you forgot yours at home this morning? i would know cause i had to do your laundry today" he sneered, slumping himself onto the girl's bed. "oh shit, it's taesan's. he let me wear it on the way home, i completely forgot" yn cussed, slapping her palm against her head as she did so, beginning to take her friend's jacket off. she sighed, "i'll give it back to him tomorrow" jaehyun furrows his eyebrows, "tomorrows a weekend, you're not going to school…unless you have other plans with him...like a date~" her brother shoots her a suggestive grin, his face disappearing when the blazer in her hand is launched at him. "ow!" he yells, rubbing his forehead with a frown. "oh, don't be dramatic. it's a piece of cloth, it's not supposed to hurt" yn scoffs, walking into her closet to change into something more comfortable. "no, something hard in there hit me" the boy says, "what is it?" she asked, entering her bedroom again. "i don't know…" jae mumbles, shuffling slightly as he stuck a hand through the jacket in search of the mystery object.

"aha!" he exclaims, pulling out the infamous silver music player she had seen far too many times already. "an ipod nano? who the fuck uses an ipod these days? can't he listen to music on his phone like a normal person?" his sister glares, moving closer hit him upside his head. "leave him alone, and leave his ipod alone too! he prefers the sound of that thing, plus all his original songs are in there to save space…stop snooping around, he doesn't like that" jaehyun shrugs, seemingly ignoring his sister's words as he pushed the on button, watching as the tiny screen turned white. "anyways, he's probably panicking right now. i should text him and tell him his ipod is safe with me and-" she was cut off by her brother's voice, "yeah, you might want to take a look at this before you do that" she looked at him half-confused and half-pissed off that he had looked through her friend's belongings when she specifically said not to.

"what am i looking at? and i told you not to snoop around!" she exclaimed, a frustrated groan threatening to escape her mouth. "yn, shut up for once and just look at this!" the urgency in his voice fuels the curiosity she had in her heart, giving in as she sat down beside him on her bed. "what…" she trails off, eyes widening as she pulls the small gadget out of her sibling's hand.

"you sure you guys aren't a thing? cause..."

there on the screen, a little folder hidden under all his other ones. and in it, two songs, two original songs: 'about a girl' and 'can't help falling in love' yn snickers a little at the obvious inspiration from his favourite artists nirvana and elvis, her mind picturing a puzzled taesan who couldn't come up with his own song names. however the girl is still lost, and it's the title of the playlist that confuses her. the playlist addressed to her. two simple words in bold letters that said,

'for, yn'

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

eee!!! the first part of this short, three part series TT hope u guys enjoyed it 🤭 any guesses for what's going to happen next?? reblogs n feedback highly appreciated!! send me an ask, let's talk abt this 💭😽 excited for u guys to read the next part, featuring song lyrics i wrote myself!! love, kona.

[skele-ghost]

Baby, it’s Hot Outside: Part 1

I wrote this like 8 months ago as a smut fic…and never got to the smut part. Rest assured, there will be smut eventually.

MDNI, 18+, Warnings: Omegaverse AU, being sick, mentions of illicit drug use, people yelling?

See prologue for summary and masterlist

You’ve been with the 141 for about six months. A decent amount of time, plenty of missions—but you still feel like you’re the outsider, somehow.

It’s because they’re a pack, the five of them, and you’re the tag-along coworker, the specialist. You’re all good friends, sure, but they’re all mates. You don’t stand half a chance against a bond like that.

You keep your sorrows to yourself, though—your envy. They’re all happy together, and you’re happy for them, even if part of your heart aches for that kind of love and affection you’ve never known.

You’re a beta, we’re raised by betas, in a beta-dominant community. Your health class in school didn’t even cover the other dynamics, and even in college all of your irl friends had been betas.

You’re a loner, anyways. You’re most comfortable behind a computer screen, getting into files you shouldn’t, pulling the strings from the shadows.

That’s how you’d been recruited, anyways (don’t hack into the Pentagon drunk), Laswell taking an interest in your effortless talent and skill for computers and machinery.

After working on a few missions with the 141, you were given a formal invite with a nice pay upgrade that you didn’t want to turn down.

They guys are a little intimidating at times. Ghost is…Ghost. He, Price, and König all being alphas. König worried you at first—he’s something called an Apex Alpha, and while you’re not completely sure what that means, you know that the term comes from ‘apex predator’ and connected the dots from there.

But it turns out he’s just a big sweetheart. Yeah, he’s the team’s human battering ram, and yeah, he gets a little scary on the field; but none of them, not even König, had made you feel threatened or unsafe.

Maybe that’s why you stay even if you sometimes feel a little left out. You keep yourself occupied with your tasks: hacking, repairing, making little electronics. You’ve all fallen into a comfortable routine with each other, falling into your roles like good little soldiers.

Which is why you’re confused to all hell as to why they seem pissed at you. You keep going over and over it in your mind, each interaction picked over and analyzed, but you come up on a blank.

Ghost had outright shoulder-checked you this morning. You told him to watch it and he glared at you. He hadn’t glared at you since the early days when you were new.

It was worse with Soap. You were closest with him. He always comes in and checks on you since you have a pension for locking yourself away while working which causes you to forget to eat or sleep. Now he’s glaring at you, too.

It didn’t help that you’re all on a mission. Recon, roughing it in sleeping bags, camped out at an old abandoned cluster of cabins. You’re all monitoring a base down below the ridge of the mountain, intent to find intel on El Sin Nombre.

You decide to brush it all off. Maybe they’re just in sour moods? Maybe you really did do something wrong, but until either of them confronted you about it, there was no point in worrying about it.

So you kept busy monitoring the local radio frequencies in your cabin. It’s damn boring, though, and the summer heat of Mexico isn’t helping.

You’d die for an air conditioner right now. Well, you’d die to not be on this mission anymore, to be back on base and have more space away from your colleagues. And you’d die to not have this guilty, worried pit in your stomach. You always get it when something bad is going to happen, the dread getting worse and worse over time. It’s stressing you out, making you sweat even more. You probably stink.

It’s almost a relief when Gaz shows up, creaking the old screen door open, but he looks pissed at you, too, and you want to cry from sheer frustration.

“God, not you, too,” you groan, smoothing your sweaty hair away from your face.

“Captain wants to see you,” Gaz says, sounding angry, confusing her just as much.

“Seriously? This about Ghost and Soap? What did I do?”

Gaz scowls, “don’t play coy, Seraph, he’s not going to like that.”

“What are you—“ you sigh, “you know what? Fine. Maybe he’ll explain why you’re all so pissed at me.”

Being outside in the sunshine, even briefly, makes you feel worse and hotter. You wonder if maybe you’re getting heat exhaustion or something—you aren’t used to being in the field and you’re sure as hell not used to being in the summer heat for so long.

Shit, maybe you’re coming down with something. As you and Gaz march over to the Captain’s cabin, you notice that everything smells different. Off. It’s making you nauseous.

When you step into the cabin, you know you’re in for it. Captain Price is standing at his desk, glowering down at you. Soap is standing a little ways behind him, his arms crossed, and Ghost is sitting in the back corner like the spook he’s named after, arms crossed.

It takes a hell of a lot of restraint not to curse under your breath, but you manage.

“Take a seat, Private,” the captain gestures at the chair in front of the desk and you have no room to argue.

You hate when they call you that—Private. It’s not even your rank. Technically you have none, you’re a specialist, and you never enlisted. You were a CIA Special Agent before all of this. Why they picked ‘private’ out for you, you have no idea, but you do feel like it undermines your hard work. You’re not some E-1, after all.

Everyone’s eyes on you makes you want to squirm, but you hold fast. It smells overwhelmingly like several different things: cigars, whiskey, cinnamon, wood smoke, the wild flowers that are outside.

Your guts keep screaming that something is wrong, wrong, wrong.

“You’ve put this mission in jeopardy, Seraph. I have half a mind to relieve you of duty and send you home,” Price says, his voice terse.

“Sir?” You ask, wanting him to elaborate, to tell you what you did wrong so that you can fix it.

“You set König off, he’s up at the deer blind refusing to come down,” he adds, voice rising in volume.

You frown, now noticing his missing figure. “König? What’s wrong with him,” you ask, concerned.

Your Captain lets out a disingenuous chuckle, which probably would’ve made your blood run cold if you weren’t so hot.

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” he says, practically growling. “We can tell. There’s no hiding it.”

“Wh—“

“Why did you do it?” Soap interrupts, fuming. “You’ve been part of the team for nearly two years, you don’t think you can trust us?”

The CIA training kicks in and you keep your mouth shut for the moment. This is starting to sound like a set up—like you’re being pinned for something you didn’t do. Or like they think you’re lying about something and are waiting for you to spill first.

But the other part of you, the part that knows your team, doesn’t think so. Maybe that part of you just doesn’t want to imagine them betraying you.

Price sighs, stepping away from the table, running his hands down his face. A sour smell begins to stack in the room and you crinkle your nose.

You hate confrontation. It was your biggest downfall, considering that you now work in special forces. You’d just barely passed your interrogation training after four attempts—yelling people upset you, which is why you never thought you’d be working alongside the military.

“I don’t…know what this is about,” you say, your voice small and meek.

“Yes, you do,” Price insists, crossing his arms, and before you can open your mouth the screen door opens again.

Gaz comes in holding your medicine, the ziplock bag stuffed with your prescribed medications and supplements.

“What the fuck,” you whisper as he puts it on the table, and then raise your voice, “that’s a HIPAA violation, you can’t just take those!”

Gaz’s hand on your shoulder is the only thing stopping you from taking your bag back. Price points at the bag, “which ones are the heat suppressants? I’m giving you a chance to come clean, (L/N).”

“Come cle—“ you stop yourself, frowning as you try to pull the new piece of evidence into the mix. “You…think I’m abusing prescription drugs?”

Soap huffs, “let me see, I know what they look like.”

Price hands him the bag, and everyone’s still just glaring at you while you try and think.

“What are you looking for, opiates? I’ve never been prescribed—“

“The heat suppressants, (L/N), where are they?!” Soap shouts, tossing the bag back onto the table. “Do you ‘ave any idea what that shite does to your body? They can kill you!”

You take in a deep breath, trying to stay calm. Your head is starting to pound with all this shouting. “What the fuck are you guys talking about? What are heat suppressants?”

“Oh, come on,” Ghost growls, rising from his chair in the corner and stalking over. “Quit acting daft and tell us the truth!”

Soap’s hand on his chest holds him back from coming any closer. You’re about ready to cry, now, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You have to stay calm, that’s what your training taught you.

“You can be discharged for this,” Price continues, still angry. “Hiding any medical history can get you booted, especially your designation!”

“My designation?” You furrow your brow, “I never lied about my designation, I’m a beta.”

“You fucking—“ But Soap holds Ghost back, walking him to sit back down in the chair in the corner. He’s livid. You’ve never seen any of them so mad.

“No, you’re not,” Price says, and you can tell how hard it is to keep himself calm and at an even tone of voice. “Heat suppressants might’ve tricked your body into thinking that, but that’s not the truth, is it, (Y/N)?”

This is beyond frustrating. Fuck being calm, you’re on your last nerve, “what the hell are heat suppressants, and why the fuck do you think I’m taking them? And for the love of god, will one of you motherfuckers tell me what I’m being accused of here?!”

Your voice echos in the old cabin for a minute. Somehow, that managed to shut them up and get them thinking. Less angry now, they look at you with confusion, apprehension.

“You really don’t know what’s going on?” Gaz asks next to you, and you glance up at him briefly.

“No! How many times do I have to tell you fuckers?” You wince at the ache in your skull that’s becoming worse, “and will someone pass me a Tylenol? Y’all are making my head hurt.”

You rest your face in your hands, trying to get your erratic breathing to calm down along with your skipping heart.

“(Y/N), when was your last heat?” Soap asks, his voice much, much more gentle.

You look up at him, squinting, “huh? I never had heat exhaustion before. My mama did, when I was little…”

“I think she’s serious,” Gaz says, as if you’re not right next to him.

“Shit,” someone says, and you can’t really tell who. You look up when you hear the sound of your medicine bag again, Soap fishing out two Tylenols and handing them to you along with a nearby water bottle.

“Thanks,” you mutter, quickly downing the pills and the rest of the water. Looking around the room at everyone again, you almost wish they were angry again. The anxious looks of worry on their faces is much worse, because they’re worried about you, and you don’t know what for.

Price sighs, sitting down at his desk chair. “You’ve never had a heat before?”

“That’s what I just said,” you quip, snippier than usual.

Price glances up at Soap, who nods, and then he looks back at you. “That’s not what this is, Seraph. You’re going into heat. You’re an omega.”

—

You scrunch your face up, frowning. “No, I’m a beta,” you insist, voice soft.

“No, (Y/N), you’re not.” Your captain pinches the bridge of his nose, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him at a total loss for words.

“You’re going inta heat, bonnie,” Soap says. “Even Gaz can smell you.”

You freeze, picking up the collar of your shirt and taking an experimental whiff of yourself. No, it just smells like sweat and laundry detergent.

“Am I the one that smells weird?” You ask, “because it does smell weird.”

“No, that’s us,” Soap explains. “Your nose is sharper now that you’re going into heat.”

“Mm-hmm,” you say, not believing a word of it. “But there’s no way I’m an omega. Both sides of my parents lineage goes back six generations—all betas. It’s literally impossible.”

“You never had the genetic testing done?” Soap asks. Testing can be done when you’re born to best guess what you’ll present as by looking at your dominant genes.

“There was no reason to, seeing as there’s a 0% chance of me being anything other than a beta,” you argue, wiping the sweat from your chin. “I mean, if I’m an omega, then Soap’s King of Scotland.”

“And it’s damn good to be king,” Soap says, crossing his arms.

Price shakes his head, “it’s not a debate, sweetheart, you are an omega. Is it possible you’re adopted?”

“What?! No!” Your head snaps up to glare at him, “my mom would’ve told me.”

“Have you seen your birth certificate?”

You roll your eyes, “have you seen yours?”

“I have mine,” he raises his eyebrows at you and you sigh.

“My ma lost the original copy—house fire,” you explain, but you know you’re not wrong. “Even if I was, that wouldn’t change anything, right? You present your designation in puberty, and I never presented, therefore…beta.”

You cross your arms.

“Then explain the smell,” Ghost says, speaking up from his quiet corner. You had almost forgotten about him.

“Obviously I’m sick,” you say, “maybe I ate something bad.”

“We all ate the same thing,” Ghost sighs, unsatisfied with your answer.

“Allergic reaction. I’ve never been to Mexico; we touch plants all the time.” That one’s more feasible, you think.

“That’s not—“

“Alright, enough,” Price says, stopping yours and Ghost’s banter. “Arguing about this isn’t going to change anything.”

“Right,” Soap agrees, walking over to you. “Whether you’re sick, or in heat, or having an allergic reaction, you need rest.”

“But who’s gonna monitor the radio?” You’re a little wobbly as Soap hauls you to your feet, but you shake it off.

“Gaz knows how to use the equipment,” Soap says and you begin walking out of the cabin and back to yours.

“Who’s gonna do Gaz’s job?”

“Me, probably.”

“Then who’s gonna do your job?”

“Quit it, (L/N).”

—

A/N: If you made it this far, thanks! I’ve recently been inspired by the fic authors I follow to post my own content. I write a lot, mostly for my own enjoyment, but I’ve never really shared anything except this and the Graves fic I posted forever ago. I think I’m gonna post fic like this that I’m comfortable with and see where it goes. I’m not taking requests and I can’t guarantee I’ll reply to messages or asks, but I will look at them lol

[sleeplessdreamer14]

oooooh you should do a little piece on 1A & midoriyas twin in the support course. i think it would be cute

fandom: my hero academia

summary: both midoriya twins are attending UA, one in the hero course and the one in the support course

contains: mentions of the deku fan club, implied ururaka, iida, and/or bakugou x reader

a/n: if this gets enough notes I’ll do another one where it’s the other way around 🔄 divider credit goes to @cafekitsune

while Izuku wanted to become a pro, you wanted to be a support hero

all throughout grade and middle school, the two of you would constantly imagine what it would be like to work as heroes together

and then high school rolled around and Izuku got ofa from All Might (yes he told you everything) and you frankly lost your sh!t

thank goodness your mom wasn’t home yet because it took a solid 15 minutes for you both to chill tf out

never had there ever been such pure delight in that apartment

anyway, you both got into UA and you wound up buying a pair of noise canceling headphones so that Hatsume’s projects wouldn’t blow out your eardrums

it took a little while but you eventually learned to tune her out a bit so you could focus on the gadgets you and Izuku had come up with in junior high

the first time Iida and Ochako formally met you was in episode 14 when they stopped by your department you had to yank Mei off of Deku and tell her to stop feeling up your brother

the brunette almost immediately saw the resemblance and honestly thought you were pretty cute in your work outfit

Iida greatly appreciates how much calmer and more cautious you are than your pink-haired classmate, wishing he had come to you for help sooner

he also found you pretty easy on the eyes

during the sports festival, you two kept an eye out for each other

and just when you thought you couldn’t be prouder of him, you saw him fly through that faux minefield and couldn’t suppress the beaming smile on your face even if you wanted to

in the next round, you had no time to focus on the scratch in your throat as you tackle hugged Izuku without a care in the world about which place you came in

your laughter was contagious as he hugged you back, double high-fiving you as you parted

talk about supportive family, right?

although you don’t interact as much as he and Izuku, Toshinori has a lot of faith in you and holds you in high regard

also, in regards to the Deku Fan Club™

when he introduced you to the rest of his class, their title was officially changed to the Midoriya Fan Club

honestly, sometimes he stops by your department with some half-baked excuse just to see you cuz he misses you

oh-ho-ho and just picture the day that you feel a tap on your shoulder while you’re working and you take your headphones off and find Bakugou of all people standing before you, asking for your assistance

you were a little tempted to poke and prod at him a little, but ultimately decided to just help him out

you’ve waited this long for him to simply talk to you, might as well not try your luck

ever since you got into UA, he had been hesitant to talk to you but finally decided to bite the bullet (after Kirishima used some good old reverse psychology on him)

as you tinkered with his support items, you stole a couple glances over at him, smiling to yourself as you noticed the differences between him and the guy you knew back in middle school

you’re consistently over at the 1A dorms, especially while Izuku was under house arrest, and you like to have little meet ups with the rest of the class so you can come up with concepts for support items

sometimes Aizawa forgets that you’re not in his class with how often you hang around

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; look out world, here come the Midoriyas

I hope this shall suffice

[vhstown]

miles morales x you headcanons

— 1610!miles x gn!reader (friends to lovers)

warnings: just fluff lol (miles is a dork)

note: normal spider-man au, a little tiny bit long. v self indulgent and oddly specific but i tried to keep them in character + inclusive 😭 wrote this at 3am, somewhat edited

For context, you were Miles' first real friend at Brooklyn Visions. You kept running into each other, and he had a strong liking to you after you helped him escape the wrath of the hall monitors without question. Becoming fast friends, Miles is quickly involved in every part of your life at the academy, and he even more quickly develops a crush on you. Luckily for you, he completely forgets about the shoulder touch. The man has no game when he's around you, his best friend, though it's not like he needs to.

Miles draws you a lot, to the point where it's almost obsessive. You're in his sketchbook, class notes, a loose scribble on the back of a receipt. You have your hair different one day and he scrambles to capture it somewhere without you noticing. He has it down to a science, and he tries to convince himself it's absolutely normal to be able to draw you perfectly from memory.

When you find out, he wants a portal to open up and swallow him whole. It's more endearing than anything, though. It's not like you haven't been stealing glances of his portraits in the middle of class anyway.

You may or may not tease him relentlessly about it, but eventually, you get comfortable whenever he slips out his favourite pencil and you pretend not to catch his subtle, studying glances.

Miles loves his headphones, sure. He begged his mom to get them for him ages ago, promising he'd put them to good use. They're basically glued to his ears, that is, unless he's talking to you. He always takes them off, listening intently to whatever you have to say, even if you're making small talk or just saying hi.

Sharing music with you is always at the back of his mind until he finally caves and buys a pair of wired earphones. It becomes routine to listen to something together whenever you hang out, pulled a little closer to each other by the wire playing Sunflower between you.

And yes, he made you a playlist. He's definitely embarrassed about it at first, and listens to it a number of times beforehand to make sure you'd like it. It's full of songs that make him think of you and ones you expressed interest in. He's definitely overthought it, but it's worth your reaction and seeing the Spotify like count increase to one. He listens to it more than you do, though.

Miles is nervous about telling his mom about you. About the both of you. Yeah, he's already told her every detail of you and your life, but he's scared of what she'd think of meeting you in person; it's not like she's hyperaware of the boy she's known for all his life suddenly changing when you're brought up, right? Rio is definitely a mama bear, even if Miles gets the brunt of it sometimes, but when he brings you over for the first time you feel more than welcome. Miles' mom and dad are constantly whispering to each other during dinner trying to make you feel comfortable, and you catching one of Rio's half-scowls at her husband when he asks a stupid question. Either way, there are hugs and kisses at the door, and you leave with your heart and your stomach full. They might just be your new parents. (Maybe in the future?)

Miles definitely helps you with school when he can, especially with more technical subjects. He always drops everything when you message him with a math problem or right before your science finals. He's up on call with you til the sun's up, the both of you questioning your sanity and basic reason when it's really just an excuse to spend time with each other (though the circumstances are unideal.) You send him your English essay to read over one day and he painstakingly looks through it to find things to compliment you on; he has no idea what you're talking about.

And calls with you are one of his guilty pleasures. When he's sure Ganke's not paying attention or his mom's checked his room for the last time, he drops you a hopeful message. You're tired, but you find yourself justifying each time you call until 3 in the morning, talking about the same couple of things. He likes hearing about your day, where you've been, what hilarious or strange thing happened in your classes. He likes hearing your voice most of all; it's even more comforting when it's muffled by sleep and your thoughts come out in jumbled repetitions of the same thing. One day, you fall asleep on call. Miles doesn't bother to decline it, pulling his blanket over him and letting his eyes close to the sound of your breathing.

When the two of you actually get together, he's even more nervous than he was bringing you over for the first time. His brain short-circuits when you say you like him back, and he just says "yeah" or nods to everything you say. He can't believe you like him. Outside of being Spider-Man, he's a bit of a nobody (he just likes keeping to himself). Not to you, though. You're his only other friend besides Ganke (more like the sneaker thief) at Brooklyn Visions, and now he's yours. Despite the ample advice from his uncle, he misses your first kiss. (You try again after a lot of laughter and it's all okay when he gets used to it.)

But... he might be getting too used to it. In fact, now that he knows you're okay with the scary concept of kissing, he's always holding your hand, brushing away strands of your hair, even just holding onto your sleeve by his fingertips. Miles always steals kisses, especially before he runs off to his class on the other side of the academy (he insists on walking you to yours. Yes, he's been late multiple times.) You swear you'll get him back for those one-sided kisses, but the debt piles up, and you eventually get used to it too.

When he hasn't seen you in a while (after slinking off for his friendly neighborhood duties), he pulls you into the most enveloping, bone-crushing hug. His head is pressed into your shoulder and arms almost double-wrapped around your torso like he hasn't seen you in years. It feels like he could pick you up, no matter how much you insist he'll never be able to lift you. It gives you a strange sense of security, and you never question why someone of his stature could probably throw you like a tennis ball.

Though, when you do manage to show him affection before he slips away, he totally melts at your touch. It's like his crush forms all over again, like it's your first kiss all over again. You like to bombard him with love just to see him go quiet and flustered and hear that very specific laugh he's had since his crush formed. He likes having you close, no matter what you're doing. Even if you're both on your phones, he always lets you lean against him or has an arm around you. When you catch him off guard with a little peck on the face, you notice him frantically looking through his home screen like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

You'll get him back one day. Until then, you'll chase him around the whole of Brooklyn if you have to. He's happy to be caught, even happier to be your boyfriend. Maybe one day he'll even give you his drawings of you. Or his entire sketchbook, it's basically all just you. Recently, it's been made up of your smiles. Maybe he'll just keep the sketchbook for himself.

🕸️💫🎧

thank you for reading ^^ this is my first post so any suggestions wld be appreciated. this is my secondary blog so i can't reply but feel free to drop an ask! (not taking requests atm)

read the rest of my atsv headcanons here!

[dullgecko]

Adaine has a sixth sense when her notes for class are in danger

Kristen can play saxophone (she chose it to learn cause haha funny name)

Fabian writes love letters as part of a Cupid's association he started for fun (and to finally use his calligraphy skills)

Fig is slowly teaching her army of Baby's to sing backup properly

Gorgug knows all the constellations from sleeping on the lawn some nights when his bed broke

Riz falls asleep instantly if somebody sits near him with a blanket thrown on him

And cooking headcanons are:

Can cook: Gorgug (the most competent) and Kristen (only corn related dishes)

Can cook (shouldn't/will make monstrosities on purpose/by accident): Riz (everything has caffeine) and Adaine (could cook with parental supervision)

DONT LET IN KITCHEN (WILL BURN WATER): Fabian and Fig (+Kristen when not making dishes with corn)

Yay a bunch, had to wait until i got home so i had a keyboard so sorry for the wait but ilu thankyou <3

Adaine has a sixth sense when her notes for class are in danger

She gets full blown promonitions on more than one occasion and has had to yank her bag out of harms way at the last second. Even if she lost her notes though she'd be fine, every night when she gets home she re-writes everything neatly into a second notebook thats kept safe inside her room (and at the end of every lesson she takes a photo of her notes for that day on her crystal and saves a backup to the cloud just in case)

Kristen can play saxophone (she chose it to learn cause haha funny name)

She also chose it becasue it has maximum potential to be sexy and annoying as hell. Her first choice was bagpipes, but tracker ripped them to shreds after the first note so that was a no-go.

Fabian writes love letters as part of a Cupid's association he started for fun (and to finally use his calligraphy skills)

He has an anonymous account set up so people can submit their requests. Once they're written he sends both a photo of the letter and mails the physical copy to wherever it needs to go.

Fig is slowly teaching her army of Baby's to sing backup properly

Very slowly, incredibly slowly. They still havent quite mastered the art of the middle volume so all their parts have to be very quiet or screeched at the top of their lungs.... its a work in progress.

Gorgug knows all the constellations from sleeping on the lawn some nights when his bed broke

He knows them, he however does not know all the proper names at all. Fabian is appauled and spends more than a few nights during the nightmare king quest quizzing him until he gets the names correct and will sometimes, during parties at night, point at a section of sky with a stern face from across the yard and Gorgug will spit out the name of whatever he's pointing at to the confusion or amusement of anyone he's currently with.

Riz falls asleep instantly if somebody sits near him with a blanket thrown on him

The crucial second component of this is Riz has to first be kindof sleepy and it cant be just anybody. Throw a blanket on a rogue unexpectedly and you're liable to suddenly be in a lot of pain and with a shredded blanket. If a friend sits next to him with a blanket on THEIR shoulder and offers a spot underneath it with them he's gone within four seconds once he accepts the offer.

------------------------------------------------------------

Cooking headcannons

Gorgug can cook, he parents taught him when he was still (relitively) small. He cooks a lot of his own meals because its often a LOT of food and he doesnt want to bother his parents all the time (he still doesnt cook quite enough, which is why he's so lanky in comparison to other half-orcs; he's chronically underfed but at least he gets all his vitamins).

Kristen is great with food that doesnt require heating, she makes amazing sandwiches and salads but the INSTANT heat is involved you need someone on standby with a fire-extinguisher. She will forget there's something cooking, it will boil dry/overcook/catch fire. She is banned from using the stove. Helios blessing was literally the only thing saving her corn-based dishes (literal divine intervention), and thats not really on the table anymore.

Adaine needed a lot of help initially in the kitchen because she had never ever used a cooking appliance before but once she's shown how she never forgets. She is not so great at 'cooking' but she is amazing at baking (which is practically wizardry in edible form fight me). Baking requires EXACT steps with EXACT measurements and EXACT cooking times. Cooking requires more flexibility and she cannot wrap her head around it (i cooked this steak for the same amount of time as the last one but it basically became shoe leather/was practically raw). Jawbone buys her a recipe book full of cookies and pastries and calls it her grimoire. She cries and keeps it tucked safely with her spellbooks, it never enters the kitchen lest it get dirty, any recipies she wants to make are copied down onto a sheet of paper like a prepared spell and taken with her when she wants to bake.

Riz's definition of edible does NOT match those of anyone else (though most of his meals consist of 1) coffee and 2) some sort of pre-made meal bar). He does cook for his mum if he gets home first though, and by goblin standards its actually pretty tasty. Goblins have mythril-stomachs though, and unless they're getting ACTIVLY poisoned they can eat just about anything (most food-born parasites cant survive in goblins anyway). It comes down to an argument of 'what do you MEAN you have to eat your chicken/pork well-done? i dont understand. You're fine with steaks being rare. why would you debone the fish/chicket the bones are the best part.'. Also the point where most food would be considered spoiled is well before the Gukgaks would be worried about it. If he's cooking for you, you just have to be specific and you'll be fine (he'll silently judge you for being picky, even while he carefully over-cooks the meat and cuts half the 'edible' parts off your vegetables).

Fabian is 100% banned from making ANYTHING. He made a sandwich inedible somehow, he was using the same ingrediants as EVERYONE ELSE. Kristin swears after casting detect evil and good on it that it was Infernal. Fig threw it through a portal to hell just in case.

Fig probably can cook, she just pretends she cant because its funnier that way. Her mother is a ranger, if anything she can probably make THE best campfire meals out of the whole squad but tells nobody and pretends to be totally clueless. One day while out on a mission the squad wakes up to a full fantasy-english breakfast cooked over a campfire including fresh bread and tea and Fig pretends that she has no idea where it came from even though she was the ONLY PERSON AWAKE.

[givethemsmut]

The Pack | Chapter One

Characters: Dylan O’Brien, fem!reader

Pairing: Dylan O’Brien, Dylan x You

Every female on the planet wanted a reason to be close to the actors on the hit TV show, Teen Wolf, except me.

I don’t dig wolves. Now some hot vampires? All day.

My dad loves producing so much that he was constantly trying to get me to join him on set in any shape of form. He wanted me to love his vice just as much as him so I would understand abandoning his entire life it. But I didn’t want to act or produce, I wanted to throw myself into college so I could figure it out.

The easiest choice would be the medical field… for so many reasons… but that felt like salt in my very much open wounds.

Twenty-three, living at home with my dad, while trying to forgive him should have been a course I signed up for in college. Instead I got to feel awkward being the light of his life. It wasn’t all bad - he was barely home and I got free rein over my life.

Sleeping in was the best part of not having class. It was just past noon when I dragged myself downstairs at the allure of the coffee pot. I had it set for noon just so I wouldn’t sleep my life away. I didn’t even notice my dad in the corner of the room, at the large dinning room table we never used, busy on his iPad.

“Sleeping in again? Another finger pointing to you coming to work for me.” He didn’t even look up at me when he talked, neck deep in his night shoot edits.

This was a constant battle we waged. “Dad, I have school full time. I don’t have time to come play on set with you.”

He sighed almost defeated for the day on the topic, “only girl in the world who doesn’t want to be on the Teen Wolf set.”

Laughing to myself I didn’t relish being some kind of gatekeeper. Every one of my friends had asked every question you could think of about the show’s star: Tyler Posey but I had no answers. My dad hit the nail on the head.

“That’s because I’m a beautiful, unique snowflake. Who knows? Maybe you’ll get lucky and I’ll surprise you for your birthday next week.”

We both knew I wouldn’t crack so easy. So happens that fate had other plans for me and my boundaries.

The following week my dad left his wallet and house keys at home which honestly wasn’t strange. He was constantly forgetting the essentials. He would buy conditioner without buying shampoo. He would invite you to lunch just to forget his wallet. He would blame being on set when part of me believe he was just that absent minded.

I was casted to the forgot parts of his brain the same way.

He texted me go bring them to set for him which was fine because my lecture was over early and I had zero weekend plans.

Being on the lot reminded me a lot of my mom. We had a bond because of this lot that kept her King and my keeper from us. We would make our own adventures, explore and pretend to be other people all day while he worked tirelessly.

Until she couldn’t pretend anymore. That was when she decided my dad loved his work more than her. That betrayal extended to me when she moved us into another house, quietly divorcing him and securing half of everything just to make sure we survived.

Everyone called her the gold digging failed artist. Everyone called me a spoiled brat.

I snapped out of my thoughts when the guard handed me my ID back through the car window printing the gate to lifted to let me in. With a big inhale I could almost smell her perfume again, earthy and seductive. Pulling through the stages I found him in the same place he always was, back of the lot, taking up the most space.

I breezed in like I, in fact, owned it. Snatching my sunglasses off my face I found my dad coaching the star through the scene with too much passion. “You love her! I need to see that protective side, Ty. That need. That sacrifice. This isn’t some crush but the mate you’ll have forever.”

She needed that side of my dad when she was dying of cancer alone in a big house without her husband.

“Dad. Keys and wallet?” Turning around he took his belongings from my hands and attempted to awkwardly hug me when it failed.

Shifting my eyes I could feel Tyler digging his gaze into me even deeper. He was wondering why he hadn’t seen me until now, if I was some hostage, if I was absent for a reason. I could see the gears shifting behind his eyes.

Beaming my dad’s hand hovered along my spine as he introduced me, “Tyler, this is my daughter. And a hero. Now I can order sushi.”

Tyler laughed and went back to rehearsal with a couple girls whom I can only assume are in the show too. I told my dad, “Well. I’m gonna get going. I’m gonna see if Alex wants to hang. Maybe a frat party is happening.”

My dad pulled over the chair that was already near him, “We’re about to start. You can’t leave yet.”

So that’s how he was going to force me to be here, cool.

I dropped my head as let my bag drop on the floor loudly, purposely, and I watched the cast hit their marks before a clear action was shouted. I couldn’t deny a shirtless Tyler Posey was easy on the eyes for sure. The scene was dark, emotional and ended with a kiss. Even someone who didn’t watch the show, like me, could feel the impact of the episode. After the director yelled cut my dad started speaking again, “I’ll be home late okay? I have a date right after this. That’s why I really needed my wallet and keys.”

I was shocked. I had a million questions. “Wait, excuse me? You’re dating now? How did you meet? Who is she? Where are you going?”

He laughed, “I downloaded a dating app. Okay? I’m going go to Don Antonio’s with her. She’s a nurse. Busy like me so she should understand how it is.”

Being excited for my dad was one thing, finally he wouldn’t be alone yet I couldn’t help but hate him for it. A part of me expected him to pin for my mother his whole life.

I gave him a giant hug before I told him I was taking off but he held me tighter while saying, “You may be over 18 but I sure as shit will ground you, take your phone and car if I found out you went to a frat party with Alex. Have a great night at home with Netflix’s!”

We both laughed, he trusted me and for good reason.

I was still a virgin. Which was rare for a kid in LA let alone an industry parent.

I grabbed my bag and headed for my car before they locked me in silence with another take or scene. On my way out I crashed into a hard body who apologized immediately, “Shit. I’m sorry. I was rushing. I’m late.”

I nodded signaling it was okay but that didn’t stop him from shouting after me when I walked away. “Hey! Are you new? Do I know?”

I stopped walking backwards while answering, “Nah. Just stopping by. Visiting someone.” With that being all I said I opened my door and smiled before getting in.

.

I knew I wanted to make myself invisible incase my dad came home with his date. It’s not the cool thing to do when you have to introduce your adult age kid after a good meal and before making out.

After I got home from the lot I texted Brody to come over for while. I don’t know how to describe that relationship at all. I’ve known him since we were 5 years old and we were always friends but when we started dating - everything changed.

He was very cute and accessible. All innocent until high school when hormones came into play. We had done everything but go all the way. Lately that wasn’t enough for him…

He came through the door without knocking carrying some beer while I stood at the counter pouring my wine. I felt him push against me, kissing my neck while I pushed the cork in the mouth again.

“Hey beautiful. How was class?”

Brody graduated two years before me and already had a job as a business consultant for a popular firm who advises people on how to be successful, handling money and recruiting for them.

He was stable. He was hot. He was older.

I was feeling frustrated as I took my very full cup of wine and dragged him upstairs behind me by the hand to my bedroom. Every time we were alone with alcohol I always contemplated that I would have the courage to go all the way with him.

Being a virgin still shows anyone how well that went. We got comfortable on my bed fitting like puzzle pieces as I scrolled through Netflix for over 10 minuets searching for the perfect movie.

I felt his hand on my thigh, slightly rubbing as his lips crashed against the side of my face. He felt comfortable so I don’t know why I wouldn’t give in.

I felt his familiar lips against mine and our warm tongues touch. He pulled off his shirt and his husky voice crashed into me, “Take this off baby.”

It was déjà vu all over again. Every time we were alone it was a replay of the same events. There wasn’t any feelings, not the way the movies shaped my expectations.

As he kissed my neck he whispered, “Come on baby. You’re dad isn’t home. Just take off your panties.”

His kisses felt good but not convincing. I whispered his name when I felt his fingers lace inside my panties as he tugged them down my legs.

We fooled around before, he had seen every inch. We kept kissing with our tongues and I felt his body settle between my legs. Reaching for his wallet and he pulled out a condom before his mouth collided with mine again. Pressing my palms again his chest, gently giving myself space, enough to decide on no.

I whispered again, “Brody. I’m not ready. I’m sorry.”

I felt his felt him tense at the rejection, “Why are you being a fucking bitch? How long are we gonna keep playing this game? I’ve seen you naked, I’ve licked your pussy, we’ve showered together.”

His warmth on top of me left as he sat as it came when he pushed his legs off the edge of my bed to put his shoes on. I didn’t even walk him out.

D Y L A N P O V

She smelt like butter and home. She felt safe. She was the most beautiful, sarcastic, tiny firecracker I’ve ever met.

We met on the set of a movie called The First Time back in 2011 and been together ever since. She just got back from Canada filming a TV show Girl Boss for the last 3 months and I couldn’t wait to have her myself.

We both had our own places with our own roommates but we wanted as much time together so she was crashing in my room. And let’s be real, I hadn’t had sex since she left months ago.

She was straddling my legs in her panties and nothing else as I coaxed her out of them. Her hips were rocking over my crotch as she leaned down to kiss me.

Sex was never our problem. We met and practically fell into bed together. Pushing her down onto the bed below me as I pushed myself further between her legs. She felt every inch of my excitement caress her thigh.

I kissed her chest and neck, every exposed inch when my head flicked up at the sound of her phone loudly alerting her she had a text. We both ignored it as I pulled my shirt off.

Another ping. We ignored it again.

I saw her look over almost like she expected a text but couldn’t get to it. Her face went from ecstasy to disappointment. Looking down at her, “We good babe?”

She shook her head, “Yeah, yeah, we’re good. Okay I’m ready, Dylan.”

On my knees, my hands smoothed up her legs until my fingers laced into the straps of her panties. Pulling them down was too easy when I got a glimpse of her wet pussy.

Ping. Ping.

Exhaling loudly, stopping to grab her phone off the night stand I had lost focus enough times to get annoyed. I was going to put it on do not disturb but the texts content was right there on the lock screen.

“Did your flight land? Can’t wait to see you ;)” “He can wait until after I see you first.” “Meet me at my place. I miss that little body.” “Ditch Dylan.”

I felt my heart stop.

Pushing myself to the edge of the bed I contemplated if I was dreaming. Did I fall asleep and have some kind nightmare? Britt, my girlfriend of 6 years was cheating and me. I had proof. I threw her phone across the room in her silence letting it crash against the wall.

She tried to touch my shoulders from behind, on her knees, forcing me to jump up. Pacing I pointed towards my bedroom door. “Get the fuck out. Get out.” She tried to touch me again but I pulled myself away quickly. “Go! Get out of my face!”

All she could say, “Dyl. Baby. Don’t be mad. I can explain. It was a mistake. Just one mistake.”

I was pacing, arms not able to stay by my side and I couldn’t even look at her. “How can you explain that? It’s pretty fucking clear!” She started getting dressed giving up explaining.

As she got dressed she said, “It was one mistake, Dyl. We were apart so long. We were just friends I swear! Please forgive me.” She picked up her phone and jacket to leave. She stood against me best she could at her short height, kissing my chest and still apologizing before exiting my room.

A party couldn’t have came at a better time. I was ready to get wasted. My only hope was that Posey heard everything and would be there as she walked out. His disappointment was damning when he wanted it to be.

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

This is a personal post about boarding school experience and its later effects in life. It will be under keep reading so anyone can scroll over it if they don't want to read it. It's mostly for me and the need to express the thoughts I've been having and I need an outlet for that.

I've been reading once again about boarding school syndrome all day since this morning. I don't know why I do this to myself. Why I feel the need to go back to all that as if to check if all the damage is still there. Or like a way to pity myself and then to hate it for feeling sorry for myself once again. It's a cycle. I must have remembered something last night before falling asleep because I found myself today at 10 am reading a research paper on it and then looking up testimonials in reddit.

But the thing is, most of the research is done on English boarding schools and as much as the overall experience is similar, there are so many nuances in the differences that exist.

I vividly remember looking out the window and watching my parents get in the car and leave. It was Sunday evening and they had the car parked on a smaller street in downtown where I was left to stay. The next day was the first day of school and I was 11, starting 5th grade.

I read that in cases of children going to boarding school, a lot of them remember in detail the moment the separation took place. And it's true even if it's been almost 20 years since then. That's when my stomach issues began. Of course the cause was emotional stress, but that didn't stop from going to medical clinics weekly to do full check ups when any adult should have realized that I was just homesick. The year after, I began to feel nausea each Monday morning. I used to beg my parents to postpone my return as much as possible so I would only leave home on Monday and arrive an hour before classes would start. For five years I went to school in the afternoon. The nausea became a constant. I would complain on that day, hoping my mother would tell me that I don't have to go to school. But I couldn't understand at that time that my mother was emotionally unavailable and had no idea how to deal with her daughter's real needs.

But I kept going and as years went by, I got used to it and it felt easier by the time I finished high school. When I was already in college, I had forgotten half of my experience and I would gloss over what happened. I would act proud of how fast I had become independent, without needing any help, as if that was a good thing.

Of course that at some point I slowly started to realize that not everything went that well, but either way, that perhaps it was worth the sacrifice if I manage to do something well professionally. Eight years of boarding school meant sacrifices and financial investment. For me to go to the most prestigious middle school (I had to take an English exam for 5th grade, that was unheard of at that time in any other school!), then to the most prestigious high school to receive the best grades which would help to get into the most prestigious university so I can study exactly what I want because by then I found my passion. And I was encouraged. So I worked for it for more than a decade because all the pain had to have been worth it. Yes, parts of life sucks, but perhaps a uni position while I teach and research would compensate for it. But it never did and that entire plan fell to pieces because life doesn't work how I wanted to.

So was all that worth it in the end? Absolutely not.

For years I would think and say that I never suffered bullying in school because my colleagues were nice and for the most part, I had nice experiences. And that's still true. While at the same time forgetting that I also had that other life in boarding school where 17-18 year girls found abuse a form of entertainment.

Bullying is such a common occurence but it gets worse in boarding school because you can't get to any space that feels safe. You can't get home to your own room and to your own parents who might notice something and intervene. In boarding school you have to sleep in the same room and next to the same bed as your abusers. You take showers next to them, hoping that nothing happens. It's living in constant fear.

All my emotional mechanisms have developed during those years, especially between the ages of 11-13. I quickly learned to avoid any type of conflict because that would mess up whatever aparent peace that existed from time to time. I learned that speaking up and telling the adults responsible meant that I was in more danger.

As adults, those who went through the boarding school experience have trouble maintaining relationships. We become self sufficient because we had to. There was no help so we learned to take care of ourselves. Consequently, we don't need other people, especially if we know they will eventually abandon us. Of course attempts are made because it's in our nature. I've lost friendships because rather than making myself heard and to be an active participant in a relationship, I distanced myself. It's easier than to speak because there's a risk that the other person would certainly decide to break the friendship. Avoid conflict at all costs, even it rots everything from the inside. I'm still actively doing this.

When I told my therapist about these experiences (which I don't think I'll talk about in detail here), she used the word trauma. To this day, I have a hard time accepting it. Because deep down I still don't believe that my experience was that bad to be labeled that way. It's not real trauma if nothing really actually "bad" happens.

It's only bad enough that it infiltrated and influenced all aspects of my entire life. From personal relationships to professional. The latter I used to think it was independent and untouchable of all the things I had going on personally. But of course to realize as an adult that the need for perfection, the impostor syndrome, all are a result of never feeling good enough which stems from the initial abandonment.

I find it hard to accept that some decisions taken 20 years ago without me having any real say in it (I was asked and I said yes because my parents know best) and the consequent experiences that I had to go through have negatively influenced my entire life. For many years I never looked at aspects of my life, thinking that something is not well and should be investigated. I was busy in my 20s with other thoughts without realizing the root cause of why I was doing some things. But by the time that decade was over, it's like everything is crashing down. Piece by piece. Every single aspect of my life had been fucked by that thing my therapist calls trauma.

[novashelby]

Little Evie things that probably won't make it to the fanfic~(or will, but just elaborated)

Part I

TW: There are mentions of abuse(all) and a tough childhood.

Evie doesn't know who her biological father is, but there was a man when she was little that would go to her mother and give her money. He'd look at Evie, but would never say anything. Just hand over money and leave. She believes this man is her biological father, but her biological mother refuses to tell her.

Evie has a minor allergy to different types of fruit; strawberries, nectarines, peaches. She will break out on her cheeks in a red, itchy rash.

Because of her mother, she doesn't warm up to mother like figures very easily.

The first time Tommy left her with Polly, she hid in the closet. Polly sat on the floor on the other side and told her about Cinderella.

Tommy is the only person she 100% trusts. Even when she is married or with another man, she will always love her father 10x more(not in a weird way). She is genuinely scared for when he dies and she no longer has him.

Though they bicker like siblings, Evie tells Finn everything. When Evie's first boyfriend broke up with her, he was the one to comfort her and hold her. Though he betrayed the family, Evie still loves Finn very much. She secretly checks up on him from time to time.

She loves Uncle Arthur and Uncle very much, but for two different reasons. Uncle Arthur covers for her when Tommy doesn't want to let her out. Uncle John picks her up from parties shes not suppose to be at.

John and Esme are her godparents. Despite being Catholic her whole life and Tommy being an Atheist, she had to go through the whole Baptism and communion process again. Tommy wanted to forget about it, but Polly wouldn't let him. Evie is actually very religious in the sense she prays a lot.

Though, Polly is next in line if anything were to happen to Tommy. If not Polly, Ada.

When she was with her biological mother, she would ask God every day to give her a set of wings like an angel so she could fly wherever she wanted. When she was five, she made some from paper, but her mother used them for the fire.

If Cindy(her biomom) was born today, she would be diagnosed with bipolar 1 and BPD and narcissistic personality disorder.

Her maternal grandparents actually have money. They were a well off family in Boston, but Cindy kept running from home for no reason. She is of Irish descent. It is speculated that Evie is half Irish-half Italian.

Unknown to Evie, there was a man who did come forth to Tommy about Evie. But Tommy said the adoption was closed and that Evie didn't need anymore confusion in her life. They did cross paths once when Evie went to the Garrison after school to give Tommy a school paper. She asked who that man was, but Tommy said it a work friend.

Her maternal grandparents attempted to reach out, but Tommy denied them as well. They came to England, and only Polly was home at the time. Unknown to Tommy, Polly gave them a photo of Evie. It was a copy of her school portrait from when she was 11. At the time, Evie was 16.

Some time before Grace was shot, Evie went to the shops for sweets. She was a pence short. There was a man behind her in line and he gave her the pence. It was Luca Changretta

Despite being bubbly and happy, Evie struggles a lot of the inside and has chronic panic attacks. Only two people can calm her down; Tommy and Finn.

Evie is the 'biggest' girl in her class, weight wise. She struggles a lot inward with her confidence. When she was 14, the brother class(boys in the same grade at the boys school) at St. Michael's ranked all 8 girls by prettiness. Evie was number 8. That hurt Tommy more than anything and unknown to anyone, he cried in his office at his daughter's pain.

If born today, Evie would be diagnosed with ADHD and dyscalculia.

Peter Novak, Evie's first long-term boyfriend, asked Tommy 3x before he agreed to let him take Evie out. Tommy liked Peter the first time he walked into his office. Just wanted to see how serious the boy was.

Actually, the whole Shelby family really loved Peter. Even after they broke up, he'd be invited to family functions.

When Grace died, she cuddled Charlie to sleep every night for months. When Ruby died, she held Lizzie to sleep.

She would braid Ruby's hair every day.

Every single morning before school, she would hug and kiss Tommy on the cheek and say, "I love you, Daddy". The day she didn't and just said, "Bye, dad, I have to go to school..." He paused, feeling his heart sink. He quickly got up and ran to the door, calling her back in the house. "Oi, what the fuck was that?!" After that, she never called him dad. It was always daddy.

She hit Finn three times with a car. Once, when she was 10 and fooling around behind the wheel. The car rolled forward and bumped him. Once, Uncle Arthur was trying to teach her how to drive and he was telling her back up, but she rushed forward and hit him. Arthur simply got up and said, "Eh, you're fine, Finn...get up!" The time she backed up into him.

She's also whacked everyone's car at least once. Every time Evie drives to a family function, they give her a designated spot away from everyone's car. They either make sure to leave before her or wait 30 minutes after she leaves to avoid being on the same road.

The only reason she got her license is because the instructor fell asleep. No one was happy that day.

When Tommy was afraid of his tumor diagnosis, he wanted to marry Evie off. There was Gypsy boy named Elias, but Isaiah stepped forward instead.

When Evie learned that Martha's(her best friend) first boy was hitting her, she told her Uncle John and together, they drove to the boy's house and smashed the family car.

Evie is a sore loser when it comes to games.

John's wedding was Evie's first family function.

Esme taught Evie how to take care of her curly hair and do her make up.

She has lived in 3 countries; US(Boston), England(London, Liverpool, Birmingham), and France(Paris).

It was a French whore that taught Evie how to dance when she was six.

Tommy first saw Evie when she was in his stable trying to pet his horses. He fell in love with her right there. When she saw where she lived, he took her home-no questions asked. Her adoption was easy. He paid Cindy ten pounds and gave her a ferry ticket to Amsterdam. She signed the papers and Evie was his.

Tommy teaches her one word in Romani every day.

Tommy's favorite photo of her is her first school portrait when she was 8 years old. She has a wide smile. That morning the photo was taken, she lost her second front tooth.

Evie doesn't know her actual birthday, but it's estimated early-mid October.

Evie's gotcha day is September 3rd, 1918.

Evie always looked young for her age. She never reached above 5ft. and her face stayed babyish until middle-aged. However, she was always developed which made her very self-conscious. When she was 14, there was an older man who made a comment to Tommy(not aware that he was her father) in regards to Evie's body. Tommy silently looked at him before punching him.

Mother Superior(Catholic school headmistress) called Tommy once when Evie was 13 to talk about her school blouses. They fit fine and covered her, but she just had more breasts than the other girls. She told Tommy it would be wise and more comfortable if Evie wore a sweater vest over her blouse. "It would be more comfortable for the male teachers." Tommy responded, "if you are worried about an adult male being distracted by my 13 year old daughter's breasts, I advise you to hire new teachers."

She was sexually assaulted by a group of older boys when she was fifteen. She never told Tommy, but she told Finn and Isaiah. Isaiah the next day went into their class while the teacher was teaching and beat the shit out of one.

[nashusglasses]

2. i'll work it physical (m)

+ based off nsfw prompts: 28.  “I’ll make it worth your time.” & 15.  “Wanna bet?”

read: part one

note: I am a glutton for horny idiot stories. Even better when they feed off each other’s energy so bad it’s just like…. Constant enabling. GOADING. That’s the word!!!! I listened to loveeeeeee song by rihanna the whole time writing this if ur into that :3

note 2: This fic is just pure indulgence of oc and gojo's party sexcapades before all those *feelings* get involved heheheheh

PAIRING. gojo/reader SETTING. college au WARNINGS. stupid ex girlfriends, good ol' fashioned fingerbang in a bathroom SUMMARY. He’ll make you forget about her.

You didn’t cry when Emi broke up with you. She was always taciturn, and it’s not as if you were completely blindsided, either. You’ve always had a nose for disinterest. She’d stopped responding to your good night texts those last few weeks you were together, kept canceling Wednesday cafe dates where you’d play footsies to distract her from doing homework. Maybe you’d reached a threshold. Footsied her to annoyed oblivion, but she always laughed whenever you did it. 

Throwing away an almost-one year relationship, though. You couldn’t lie through the sting in your eyes when you got back to your dorm that night. Not when Natsume’s a nosy bitch who has to know every minute detail of your life. You collapsed into a fit of half-sobs because you refused to be too distraught over someone who couldn’t find the time for you anymore. That’s lazy, Natsume said into your hair. You always liked when she petted your head for comfort. She let you sleep next to her while you wallowed in post-break up misery. I’ll punch her the next time I see her.

That was two months ago. Two months since you’ve seen Emi’s dyed-blonde head, the pretty dimples that came with her smile. It changes tonight.

Sigma Phi is never cheap with their ragers. Neither you or Natsume are in a sorority but you’d be dumb to miss out on sponsored alcohol and free cool ranch Doritos. The house is the tallest on Greek row, all high ceilings and shiny wooden banisters. The kitchen is where you keep comfortable. Away from the strawberry smoke, sticky floors everywhere you take a step. You’re waiting for Satoru to get you your soju when you see Emi walk through the front door.

Her roots are growing out. She’s got glitter on her eyelids, a shiny neck with the scented oil she uses because she’s always hated using perfume. If you step close enough you know she’ll smell like rose petals. Like the sailor’s bewitched limbs twitching with every sweet note of that siren’s song, you’re almost taking a step forward to follow her further into this stupid loud party.

As if he’s cued, Satoru gets in the way with two red cups in hand. “No yogurt soju so I got orange instead. Mixed it with orange soda so it’s ultra mega orange shit. Why the hell are you tiptoeing? You’re like two feet tall.”

“Shut up.” You make a grab for the cup he offers you, tipping back a generous gulp for a show of thanks. “It’s—I saw someone. I think.”

He swivels around. “Who?”

“My ex.” You almost flinch at the term. Moreso at the thought of Satoru calling you bitchless than having lost someone you genuinely cared for.

“Didn’t know you had one.” His eyebrows are furrowed with confusion, leaning back against the counter. He flicks an annoyed hand at the stale chips scattered everywhere. 

“It’s. Yeah. She wasn’t really around to show face towards the end, so.”

“What’s her name?” 

You could think of a million but you don’t feel like spitting venom. You’ve got your distraction for the night. You hope Satoru notices you’re wearing your shortest skirt. “Emi.”

“Emi? Utada Emi or Hirano Emi?”

“The first one.” How he knows more than one is beyond you. Satoru hums at your confirmation.

“She’s in my aerodynamics class,” he says. “What happened?”

“I don’t—I don’t really wanna talk about her.” Because if you do, you’ll probably start thinking about how she made your pillows smell good with that fresh linen scent. Or how she left you little origami cranes on your desk. Or the way she sounded in the morning with drool stuck to her chin—

“Oi.” Satoru snaps his fingers in front of your face. “You good? Sorry I asked.”

“It’s fine. Or. Not really. Whatever.” You finish your drink with record speed. Anxiety crawls through your chest, makes you wonder what the hell Emi could be doing here. Or who she could be doing here. Suddenly you think about an empty room, her clumsy feet traipsing up those carpeted stairs. Looking at someone else with doe eyes like she did when she wanted you on top of her. You crush the red plastic in your hand.

“Satoru,” you say blankly. 

He’s not even halfway done his drink. “Uh huh.”

“Do you know how to make a girl come in five minutes?”

“Depends.” He levels you with a curious stare. Like he’s bracing himself for whatever you’ve got for a challenge. “Can I use my hands?”

“Whatever body part you want.”

“Then yes. Who’s asking?”

“Wha–who the hell else?” You hiss. “You finishing that?”

Satoru looks down at his cup, then back up at you. And when he doesn’t immediately respond you just swipe at his hand to guzzle down the ultra mega orange shit. It’s not half-bad. A sweetness easy to swallow, not like the Casamigos he took with Suguru earlier. 

You let the dizziness settle. Satoru stares you down. “I’ll do it in two,” he says. “Wanna bet?”

It’s cryptic. And then you remember what you asked him. You squirm with the heavy suggestion. 

“Bathroom,” you order, and Satoru leads the way first.

Natsume’s sitting pretty at the bottom step of the stairs. She’s got a blunt pinched gently in her mouth, lights up with her inhale when she sees you. She dims into gossip when you come up to her. “Oh my god. Did you see–”

You nod, not that keen on hearing her name when you’re off to forget it. Satoru skips past and up two steps at a time with nothing more than a hey roomie. Natsume’s mouth quirks up in acknowledgment.

“Don’t scream too loud. Or do anyway. I can’t feel my fucking fingers from the music.” 

She slaps your ass when you pass her. “Take a shot with me after,” you call. Natsume winks. Satoru’s got the bathroom door wide open for you to walk through when you catch up.

For a frat, the space is clean. No nasty caulk jobs and the toilet paper holder’s actually full. You’ve got no time for more analysis when Satoru slams you against the door. “Jesus,” you groan.

He swallows what little else you have for complaint. His mouth is sweet on yours, coaxing your tongue for taste. “Nice skirt by the way.”

Satoru’s hands are greedy where they pull. Cupped under your jaw, teasing a touch on either side of your tits, then right down to your ass where he squeezes. Hard. 

“Keep going,” you mumble. Biting down on his lip when he grips you tighter, and you feel the coarse rut of his boner when he presses you harder against the door. “God. Get me wet.”

“I’ll make it worth your time.” He breathes wet kisses on your neck. Sucking deep till you twitch in simmering pleasure. 

“You fuckin’ better.”

He sneers in response. But he kisses you like he’s just as electrified. Needy for whatever high he’s promising to deliver on, and you want it fast. He juts into you, lifts your leg around his hip just to get the angle right. 

“Okay. Fuck–just.” You take his hand, fit it snug where your panties ride up on your pussy. He laughs against your teeth.

“Get me wet,” he mocks, playing with the arousal you just denied. You blush. Desperate measures. You’re glad your body responds to his this quick. Only to your detriment, because he knows you’re terrible at bluffing, and now he’s laughing at you. “You’re funny. Two minutes?”

He circles your clit with a rough finger. Too much, not enough. In the haze of your muddled head, the visual is enough to spark that heat. You’ve always liked his hands. There’s something about seeing it disappear under your skirt, like you’ve got something to hide. You offer a moan when he teases a finger inside.

Satoru leans a hot mouth into your ear. “Your girl ever get you like this?”

Your eyes are wide open. From his provocation, and now he’s got one finger snug up your pussy. “Oh my god.”

“You don’t need to answer,” he teases. “I know she didn’t.”

“You–” He sets a slow rhythm. Deep where it counts, grinding the palm of his hand till you moan from your chest. “You’re evil.”

Again. He knows you’re bluffing. That wet sound every time he moves is proof enough. You’re just talking because you’re not embarrassed anymore. You’ll let him have his way with it if it means you don’t have to think about anything else.

“Don’t be shy,” he prods.

Another finger, this time with less drive. You buzz from the intrusion. Knocking your head back on the door when he bottoms out, absolutely not shy with the sounds you’re making. Satoru kisses you into muted excitement. 

You don’t think he’s timing it. You sure as hell aren’t. As if you were ever scared he wouldn’t deliver. “Go faster,” you urge. This is probably one of the only two bathrooms available for use. You could at least taint it quicker than anyone else can.

“Cute. I like when you’re bossy.” You initiate a kiss this time. Slipping tongue and an indulgent moan down his throat, and that’s what spurs him on. 

His drive is back. Drawing out more wetness with earnest fingering, the guttural noises straight from your gut. Your eyes roll back with the feeling, heat unfurling faster than the blood trying to reach your fucked out brain. 

“Fuck, oh my god.” Your fingers curl into his biceps. “That's–yeah, oh my god I’m. Close–!”

He crowds you in again, forehead on your sweaty one. Nothing to say, letting your panting do all the talking for the both of you. His fingers hook into every wet spot, ramming the edge of his hand on your clit till it’s battered into ultra-sensitivity. You twitch with his every move. 

“You better fuckin’ come over tonight,” Satoru groans. You’ll look down at that hard dick later. You know he’s fostering the pain with quiet lips. How considerate. 

“W-Whatever. Yes I’ll–just–oooh fuck.” He’s jacked the speed to eleven. No more pretense of easing you into it. The sound is enough to get you off, wet thrust for wet thrust. “Satoru,” you whine.

He kisses your nose. “Hmm?”

“If I squirt it’s on you,” you warn.

“You say that like a threat.” He shows no sign of stopping, too. He’s impatient with anticipation, and you’re fading fast. “You’ll give it to me?”

You were kidding. Sort of. It’s not off the table. All you know is the heat is building and you’re about to explode. “Ye-es!”

“So do it,” he presses. 

He curls his fingers with every sharp jut against your core. You hang your head low, letting that high come to you, and you unfurl with the release. Shaking through a tiring orgasm, clawing tight on Satoru while you squeal. “Oh fuck.”

He’s relentless with the come down. Drawing out those waves with taut fingers, focusing deep. You don’t squirt but his wrist is disgustingly wet. 

“You’re hot,” he says when you drop your leg. You slump against him with a groan. “Look. Prune fingers.”

You don’t look but you know he’s wiggling them. Always in awe with what he can do to you when you’re down for it. You’ll let him bask in your orgasmic glory, because you’re just as good as getting him undone.

“Yeah yeah. Let’s get back, I wanna see Natsume before we leave.”

You shift your skirt till it's decently covering your ass again. Satoru washes his hands. You both ignore the bulge in his sweatpants.

Then someone knocks on the door.

You think you’ve always believed in fate. Some cosmic divinity keeping a watchful eye on whatever energy waves you’re spreading out into the universe. Because when Satoru opens the door for you, it’s Emi, and she’s looking disheveled, but not in a good way.

A pang of sympathy echoes in your chest. Your fingers twitch forward, already thinking of how to move her hair behind her ear.

Satoru beats you to a greeting.

“You look like shit,” he jests.

Emi ignores him. Stares right at you, and your breath stutters. You’re not as taken by her beauty, this time. Not when she shot you down, dug her heel into your heart, got it all muddy. You grab Satoru's hand. He doesn’t say anything when you curl your fingers into his.

“Take care of yourself,” is all you croak out. This time, it’s you leaving her behind.

Natsume’s gone from her bottom perch. You don’t feel like finding her anymore. Satoru keeps you close to him when you walk back downstairs.

He stops you when you don’t stop walking towards the front door. For the second time tonight, he asks: “You good?”

You shake your head. “No. But we’re going back to your place. Distract me some more.”

Satoru’s smile is wicked in its suggestion. “I can do that,” he confirms.

He doesn’t let go of your hand the whole way back to his dorm.

[thesorcerersapprenticeu]

Chapter 5: Tip Toe

After the events of the mission, the conversation between Vander and Vi and Mylo's testimony against you, you still have to continue. Strangely enough, Vander calls you for a private conversation.

---

"Lever"

"Le-ver!"

"Exactly!"

You were back in the Basement of The Last Drop. You and Powder were sitting on her bed, leaning against the wall. In the background, music was playing through an old record player, which also had something like a trumpet on it. It was quiet, relaxed and almost made you forget what you had both been listening to a few minutes ago.

 "What the hell were you thinking?"

"They are a Problem."

 "They made a mistake" - "Name one time they haven't"

 "You were twice the person at half their age."

The sentences echo in your head, one popping up again and again, making you feel the emptiness in your stomach. Powder was with you, you ran away from the Thug together, but you threw the bag into the sea.

And now, you're giving Powder something like a lesson again. You've been doing that since you were all taken in by Vander. For your young age, you could already read and write, a privilege no one from Zaun had. Most people can't do math either, whether it's money or goods. Since Vi already knew the letters, but Powder couldn't do either of those things, you taught them.

Even if you preferred to stare into Powder's sapphire blue eyes and get lost in them during this lesson, it went really well. Powder learned incredibly quickly, after just two days she was able to memorize all the letters, much faster than Vi, who only repeated everything in a hurry.

And so here you are again, but not really in class mentally. You can't stop thinking about the big notebook from the Academy apartment, the Holy Wizard Corpse. Since you learned from one of the pages almost an hour ago that there are corpse parts in Zaun and Piltover, you can't clear your head. You kept thinking about which of the Nine Parts are hiding here, in this hole, in Zaun... And what they can do. Does it have something to do with magic or some natural force of the world?

But all the while thinking about it, the whole job pops into your head about how you and Powder screwed up and all the loot is gone.

"And this Lever is an object." You say, not with as much conviction as usual, but enough to make it sound like educational words. You look to your right, to Powder, and expect a definition for object.

"An object..." Powder replies, actually quite quickly. She looks to your left for a moment, makes a thinking face and turns right again. She stretches her arm forward, grabs a piece from a metal mesh-like box and tinkers with her gadget. "Soooo...A Thing?"

Should I talk to her about Vi's statement? No, I can't do that. They're sisters, hearing something like that from your own must be much worse than from someone like Mylo.

"Yeah...A Thing." You say after a few seconds. Your mouth utters the words while your other senses automatically focus their attention on her. Her hair, her soft pale skin and everything about her was perfect. She didn't see herself that way, neither do you, after all you're both the weaklings of the group. But who cares if you have each other?

"A lever is a simple tool that helps you to move or lift heavy things more eas-

You stop talking and see Vi out of the corner of your eye. Her red hair immediately stands out in the dim light. She walks towards you, a light smile tracing her lips as she sees you both sitting there.

"What are you calling this one?" Vi asks quietly as she stops in front of the bed and leans forward slightly.

Your eyes immediately fixate on her, a few things wander through your mind.

What is she doing here? And why is she asking about Whisker, as if she's really interested? She wants us both to train or something. Or is she here to tell us what an embarrassment we've made of ourselves today? After all, she agreed with Mylo about what he said to us.

"Whisker" This time Powder waits a few seconds before answering. It even sounds slightly broken, as if she hesitated to answer. She was probably thinking the same thing you were: that Vi wants to address what happened today and distract you for now.

Powder takes the little gadget in one hand and starts drawing on it with the other. She does this with each of her creations and you could watch her for hours. It's an art how her slender fingers spread the color on the metallic surfaces and it becomes an invention.

With that, Vi suddenly moves towards you, onto the bed. While you hold on to Powder, she sits down next to you on the left, a slight distance from Powder, after all it was clear what was coming next.

"Wanna talk about today?"

Neither you nor Powder look over at her. The mood is pretty shitty, after all, she's addressing the two who lost the Haul. You think, the simple "no" answer definitely won't satisfy Vi. She's a pretty direct and determined person, so if she wants to appeal to your feelings, she can.

So you answer, dazed and in a depressive mood, but you answer.

"Why? I Ruined Everything." It sounds like rubbish coming out of your mouth. How many times have you apologized to the others just because you didn't get something right? "I'm sorry I'm so weak." Or "I didn't know, I'm sorry." If you think about it, you've already lost count of how many times you've apologized for something like that. Definitely too many times.

"Oh, I almost forgot..." Vi starts, not even a second after you've spoken. You turn your head towards her, a few strands of hair obscuring a completely clear view of her head, but her light blue eyes stare right through you. "Vander wanted to talk to you."

What, Vander wants to talk to me? Does he know what you and Mylo said about us and wants something like an apology from you to us? But does he want to talk to me alone or with Powder-

"In private."

That's all Vi had to say. You immediately push yourself over the sheet, even though you would have actually been further into the conversation, it's probably better if the two sisters talk about it among themselves. Powder can probably answer much better than you, after all, she's rather articulate with words.

The last thing you see before you leave the room is Vi moving into your now vacated seat and starting to talk to Powder.

There you are, sitting opposite Vander's tall, strong and serious stature. You just walked up the stairs again, and there he was. He stayed here, where he'd been talking to Vi privately an hour ago. But she was definitely not sitting right in front of me, but in the single chair where she always sat.

"Why do you think I want to talk to you?" Vander's voice rings out across the room. It's deep, bold and the complete opposite of yours. You shift a little in your seat because of your trembling knees, your pounding heart and your head that just can't stop thinking.

Why? It's obvious, because of what happened today. Is he perhaps angry because I lost the haul? Or does he like it because there's no more evidence against us, after all, the things should be at the bottom of the sea now.

"About...today." It sounds more like a question than an answer. Your shaky voice only makes it as far as his ears, you can't hear it yourself. But you see him slowly and quietly sighed, his eyes drift to the ceiling and he adopts a more relaxed posture on the couch opposite you.

"You do understand, right?" He takes his time before answering you, a calm voice and a confident response.

What?

"Vi's leader sense isn't wrong, but she really needs to watch what you're pulling." He finally replies. He gets out of the relaxed position and stretches his arms out in front of him, pressing his hands together. You can see the muscles in his arms, the individual veins flowing through them and the strong skin tone. "You should understand that... After all, you have a good brain."

You immediately understand what he means: you shouldn't just stand by. But you like the way he says it, he doesn't say like the others that you need to train or eat more; he emphasizes your strengths. You are the smartest one in the group, even if you don't show it and don't talk about it. Even if you have a good idea for something that would keep you out of trouble, you never say it.

Vander is the person you trust the most, followed directly by Powder. After all, Vander took you from the bridge soaked in red smoke, not only that, he showed you the other world, and at the same time showed you what it really means to live for something. He always listens to you when you tell him something, whether it's a story or something that bothers you.

"I see what you mean..." You finally answer, your thoughts running like some kind of cogwheel.  You sit down a little better, lean back and put your hands on your knees.

You don't say anything for a few seconds, and neither does he. You take deep breaths from your nose, feel the oxygen literally bring your body to life and get ready to compose your thoughts so that you won't regret it in the future.

Because you are a person who is always thinking about the mistakes from your past.

"In terms of the course of war.... It comes down to one move. One move we make wrong can end really badly for the underworld...My people." He sits up straight, a strong straight stature and his eyes fixed on you. He continues to squeeze his hands together and now interlocks some of his fingers. "What you did today was really dangerous. I've already talked to Vi about it...But you know how she is."

One Wrong Move and the Underworld is torn apart by the Enforcers. But why is he talking about it like he has so much power to manage that one move?

Vander just keeps looking at you, raising an eyebrow as you continue to stare at the floor. You shift slightly from left to right on the comfy couch. Your head is literally seething with questions and theories about Vander's statements.

Yes, he could have a deal with the Enforcers. That would make sense, as long as Vander can make sure that no one from Zaun gets into their business or causes any problems. On the other hand, enforcers don't come down here every day and savagely slaughter the people in their way.

"I understood, Vander."

"So I understand you've already disposed of the Haul?" Vander says, fixing his eyes on your hands and seeming to recognize something. He probably seems to be looking at the light slashes you have from climbing, your skin is more sensitive than others.

"Yes." That's all you say, you just can't get it together. Your mind won't let you process anything more than you just did, apparently you're the only person who's come to the conclusion: Vander has a deal with the Enforcers. The Enforcers, who see the people of the underworld as scum.

"You're a smart boy Y/N, don't let anyone tell you otherwise." He finally says as he slowly rises from the couch across from you. His eyes follow his broad back, and somehow you can't think of anything else but:

I had only just seen his back at the time. The same back that challenged them all on the bridge with the Red smoke. So he made this deal afterwards? How many had he killed on the bridge, in the battle?

But just before he walks out, right at that moment, he stops. At the door of the room, after everything that has happened, it looks for a moment as if he is dead. Slain by the deeds and sins of all the inhabitants of Zaun. You shift slightly in your seat, your eyes fixed on his back, your mind blank, preparing for his words.

"You have potential, Y/N. Just don't waste it." He doesn't turn to you, still facing the door with his massive stature, with you still sitting on the couch anyway. "I don't care if you have too fragile a body, it's the brain that counts. The one who can use small power perfectly will win every battle."

Every battle. But for what? Is he trying to tell me something at the same time? Is something bad going to happen soon?

"By the way, you have to go into hiding, you can go into the little hiding place with the box machine. But you have to remember one thing...

No One Wins in War. " With that he's gone, a slam of the door and your view changes to a normal room without a human soul.

You forget the incident with your assignment. You think about everything that has happened in this short time. No thought escapes you, everything flows through your big memory and is spit out like a computer. It has all happened far too quickly, not only is time moving too fast, everything has happened at once, and you have the strange feeling that Vander's words will stay in your head for a long time to come.

The Corpse Parts. Magic that you could literally feel in the Academy apartment. The Spinning Weapon of the Enforcers. A secret power in this world. But everything was... connected.

But even when everything takes over your brain, you still think about Vander's statement.

No One Wins in War. War brings pain to everyone, no matter what side you are on. In the end, it doesn't matter if you win, because you still lost a lot to get there. But it's Told by Vander who has only been on the losing side of a war, plus he apparently has a deal with the Enforcers, it doesn't make any sense. No... this phrase refers to human lives, not political power. He's a pacifist, at least I think so.

Also, he doesn't necessarily have to have a deal with them, maybe I'm just thinking too much. But it would still be possible, Vander is definitely the best known from the underworld, it would make sense of all people to make a deal with him.

But after a few minutes of sitting over his statement and thinking about it until you can't do it anymore, you've figured it out.

Nobody wins, but one side loses a lot less.

You get up, rumble to your feet and look around. No one is there, the others are most likely already in the hideout, you should go there too. Before you leave, you take the book with the notes about the Corpse Parts and the Enforcer's gadget. You put on the long black coat you were already wearing when you came here, it was too big for you, but you can easily store both items in the side pocket.

Now make your way to the hiding place with the others.

---

[corporatefrog]

╰┈➤ Welcome Back to the Channel part 15; red string of CONSPIRACY

✧.* featuring yn opening up to Kyle about their recent theories : ̗̀➛ notes - I always get nervous when I post written out parts (esp when it's a smau) but I felt like this needed to be in person for the effect. The next part will be mainly written too so get ready! tags - college au, superhero au, smau

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It’s got to make sense. It HAS to make sense. If it doesn’t make sense I’ve spent the past week thinking about it and that’s a week wasted that I could’ve used to do something else or literally anything. 

My vision blurred as I stared at the cork board, eyes tracing the same track of red yarn from picture to news article to picture to news article to picture-

It was a vicious cycle that had trapped me for what felt like hours but could’ve been minutes. Or days. Time came and went in no consistent interval. I woke up, went to class, came home and stared at this board until I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. 

I hadn’t made a video in a few weeks and I’d postponed the interview I had scheduled with Fast Pass with no new date set. Another lost opportunity because I couldn’t get my shit together. This is all I had right now. So I had to be right. Even if the theory made me sound like I’d never had a critical thought in my life. 

Which it does. Kyle didn’t even respond after you told him. That means no one believes you. It means your theory doesn’t make sense. This is BUTTERS we’re talking about.

Yeah but if it’s wrong, that means those people are right. Even if they’re just spreading hate on the internet to make themselves feel better, they have lives nonetheless. If I assisted someone who’s actively ruining people’s lives, does that make me just as bad as him? 

I shake the thoughts away. I’m not a bad person. I may make questionable choices but what college student doesn’t? It’s a part of growing up. So I have to be right about this. But what does that mean moving forward? What do I do knowing one of my best friends is a super villain? 

A stinging feeling begins behind my eyes as I feel the familiar pressure across the bridge of my nose that always happens before I start crying. 

Why can’t I figure this out? Why can’t I let this go? Why am I stuck-

A knock at the door startles me from my concentration. My head whips to the door as though it would open on its own to reveal who interrupted my time of focus. 

“Yn? Hello?” Kyle’s voice sounds from the other side of the door. 

Oh fuck. 

I looked back to the cork board which took up the majority of my living room. 

Why did I buy this again? I wondered, realizing how much space the board actually took up. The once tidy living room had become cluttered with empty coffee cups and takeout containers littered over the coffee table, end tables, and ground. Bits of red yarn sat on the ground from cut up scraps. Other lengths that had connected discarded evidence sat in a pile on a stool, waiting for the chance to be connected to the ever expanding web once again. 

“Are you in there?” Kyle’s voice rang through the apartment again.

I can’t let him in here! He’s going to think I’m some hermit conspiracy theorist!

…Well I kind of am a conspiracy theorist.

Deciding to ignore that realization, I lunged for the nearest piece of trash (a 3 day old Chipotle bowl that I just kept forgetting to walk the 3 feet to the kitchen trash) and tossed it into the garbage can. Speed cleaning the apartment lifted a weight from my shoulders, making the small living room feel less claustrophobic. 

Wow, I feel better already. Maybe I should open the blind and run a vacuum through real quick- KYLE!

I spun and walked toward the door, fixing my appearance in the 10 second walk to the door to the best of my ability. Even if I’ve been stuck in my apartment for a week and a half, I didn’t want to look like it. 

Unlocking the door, I put on my best “I’m totally fine and mentally stable!” face.

“Hey, kyle!” 

If I looked bad, Kyle somehow looked worse. The usually maintained curls frizzed into a blur atop his head and his shirt was clearly on backwards with a Fruit of the Loom logo showing proudly at the base of his neck. His eyes darted around the hallway and into my apartment through the sliver he could see through the cracked door. 

The fuck is up with him?

I think while also wearing a shirt backwards after throwing away a week’s worth of take out food and diluted iced coffee as though I was any better off. 

That’s not what we’re focusing on right now. I’m perfectly stable, duh. 

“You good?” I asked, leaning against the door frame to keep him from seeing my conspiracy board. 

Kyle raised an eyebrow, “You’re the one that texted me an essay about your theories then called yourself an asshole.”

“Oh those?” I forced out a laugh, waving a hand to brush off the concerns, “Those were just joke, duh! You took those seriously?” 

“They sounded pretty serious to me.” Kyle sighed, running a hand through his ragged hair in a way that somehow didn’t catch his fingers in the mess of curls, “Can I come in? There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

My eyes darted back into the apartment. The giant cork board stuck out like a neon sign saying “A MENTALLY ILL PERSON LIVES HERE!” I couldn’t let someone see me like this. Texting Kyle in the first place was a mistake. He’ll think I’m not thinking clearly, that I’m not someone to be trusted. The work I put into being reliable yn who’s always there to be a person you can lean on will be ruined. No one will ever trust me again. 

But don’t you want someone else to know? Just knowing that someone else sees your stress instead of shoving it down until it spills over?

The thought alone of telling someone about these thoughts, of sharing the burden I’d created for myself, cleared the clouds fogging my mind. He can be someone who will listen. He can be a witness so I’m not the only one who knows that I’m struggling. 

I stepped back, pulling the door open so Kyle could step through. 

“Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess.” I started, hoping to mediate the embarrassment of letting someone into my stress lair. 

Kyle shook his head as a small smile tugged at his lips, “It’s no problem, if you’ve ever seen stan’s room-” His sentence died out as he noticed the cork board. You know, the giant one covering my living room wall filled with pictures and newspaper clipping connected by red yarn. 

“Oh.” Was all he said. 

I shut the door behind him. Kyle jumped slightly at the sound, turning his gaze to follow me as I walked. He doesn’t say a word. Only staring at the cork board, the remains of trash I’d missed on my quick clean, and my own disheveled appearance. 

Might as well address the elephant in the room.

“Do you want to talk about the cork board?” I asked, continuing before he had a chance to reply, “Let's talk about the cork board because I’ve been dying to talk about this cork board all day.” Walking up to the board, I pointed to the center where two photos sat: one of the supervillain Professor Chaos and the other of elementary education major Butters Stotch. 

“Professor Chaos. His name keeps coming up over and over again. Everyday Call Girl is sending out alerts about this guy,” I move my hand to point at different tweets I’d printed out and pinned to the board, “Professor Chaos takes hostages in a McDonalds Play Place for a birthday party. Professor Chaos attempts to sign himself as the mayor of South Park using a fake charity petition. Professor Chaos hijacks the news station to declare the weather today ‘a 100% chance of Chaos’. This entire corner is just tweets about Professor Chaos!” 

Kyle sits down on the couch without a word, eyes still following my every move. I start pacing across the living room. 

Why isn’t he saying anything? Is it because he doesn’t believe me? 

“So I start to look closer at his actions, his way of speaking, everything that makes Professor Chaos who he is. But it’s around this same time that I start to text a certain person more because we have a philosophy class together.” I return to the board and point to screenshots of text messages. 

“Here Butters talks about getting grounded for eating two cookies and here Professor Chaos talks about being grounded for wearing his villain outfit then got grounded for trying to get ungrounded.” I look between the cork board and Kyle, trying to justify my hypothesis with the urgency in my voice, “No one gets grounded as much as Butters. You know that. I know that. Everyone knows that!”

“But that’s not even the smoking gun!” I exclaimed, pointing to another corner of the board, “Last week, Butters missed our philosophy class- which he has never done- and when I texted him, he said he was at a showing of Frozen on Ice with his mom in Denver. But when you look at the schedule for Frozen on Ice,” I pause for effect, “they don’t start shows for this season in Denver until next month. Right day, wrong month.” 

“But guess what was going on last week? Professor Chaos attacks main street and is tackled by Super Craig. Landing him with another defeat and some pretty gnarly bruises to boot. The kind of bruises you’d need to miss class to cover up.” I finished with a sigh, glad to finally tell someone the monologue that had been racing through my head for the past week. 

I brace myself for Kyle’s response. His eyes are locked onto the cork board and my scribbled sticky notes shouting various exclamations of discovery and panic. With a deep breath, he levels his gaze on me. 

What is he thinking? Is he trying to find a nice way to say I’ve lost it? Have I lost it?

“Yn-”  He begins but I cut him off. 

“I know it sounds crazy, okay? I know it sounds like I’m reaching by claiming the only truly nice person I know is the town’s resident fucking super villain-” 

“You’re right.” 

Kyle’s response blasts through my clouded mind. I physically take a step back as my face morphs from frantic stress to confusion. 

“What did you just say?” I ask, shoulders remaining tense as a hand twists into the fabric of my shirt. Kyle sighs, looking away and muttering something to himself. He raises a hand to his face, rubbing at his eyes before looking back at me. 

“You’re right about Professor Chaos.”

The words I hoped to hear, the words I thought would finally take the weight off my shoulders and release the stress that had gripped my nerves, only intensified the panic in my mind. 

“You mean you believe me, right?” I started slowly, trying to clarify the simple language mistake Kyle made. 

“No, I mean you’re right.”

Before my mind could begin to wrap around the first revelation, Kyle continued speaking. 

“I can’t tell you. I’m not allowed to. I shouldn’t even be telling you this. But I know someone who can, or at least someone who has permission.”

I began shifting my weight from foot to foot, holding back the urge to begin pacing again as I ran a hand through my hair. 

“You know how cryptic you’re being right now, right?” I said. 

“Yeah I know.” Kyle's leg began to bounce as his own nerves began to peak through, “I’m walking a very thin line and I’m trying not to get us both into major trouble.” He looked up to me, trying to communicate a message I couldn’t understand. 

“With who?” 

“Someone with a lot more authority than me. Someone who can explain things more if you come with me.” Kyle urged. 

What does that even mean? Let’s not forget that he said we were right. How does he know that? Why does he know that?

My thoughts fought against each other to be the one addressed first but with so many questions, it felt impossible to single out one from the mass. Everything was happening so fast. Everything changed so fast. When did the mood of the room become so urgent? Did it always feel like this? 

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to pause the thoughts. Nothing is going to get done at this rate. So I need to take the first step forward. 

“Okay… yeah.”I started slowly. Kyle nodded and began to stand but I held up a hand for him to wait, “But only if you promise we can get ice cream afterwards.”

Kyle looked at me with an exasperated expression, “Are you seriously using this to get free ice cream?”

This is what he’s surprised by? 

I raised my eyebrow at him and pointed to the chaotic corkboard, “You just told me my batshit conspiracy theory was right and now you want me to follow you to an unknown location to talk to an unknown person. Fuck yes I want free ice cream.” 

Kyle considered the cork board for a moment before sighing. 

“Fine. We’ll get ice cream.”

I muttered a quick “Fuck yeah.” to myself in celebration before looking back at Kyle, 

“Okay I’ll get my coat.” 

I grabbed my jacket and followed Kyle out the door, not nervous about where I’d be going, but scared that I wouldn’t like what I found.

taglist [reply to be added]: @sula0kin @lacuna-at-dawn @anglettecolours @cocolena@sukisprettyface @feverish-dove @sweetadonisbutbetter @hand-writxen@mishstuff@sophtophie @triphovia  @lacunaanonymoused @inkedintothepaper @toodeepintofandoms@mmmaackerel @sillybilly-123@n0tangeliccc

[dark-falz]

PSO1: Tips on starting out

I’ve seen a lot of new people who try out PSO1 ask a lot of questions about stuff and how to get the ball rolling in game. It warms my heart that people are going and trying out this old revolutionary title, but I myself forget this isn’t an easy game to start off in.

This is going to be a nice long post pertaining to the basics with starting off for this game. I’m going to go over, races, classes, mags, quests, and a few random things between them. I play on Ephinea, the most populated server, so a bit of my information may be specific to their server.

*Note - I have never achieved max level in this game. There are other veterans who have like 6 level 200 characters across multiple platforms/servers. I am not a pro-veteran, but I have a consistent 23 years of familiarity with the game, never putting it down for over a year since owning it. It is and has been my hands down favorite game. There are much more knowledgeable people to talk to about this game, I am just providing what basic information I can in hopes of creating an ease of access for new people trying to get more familiar with the game.

Races:

Humans: Nothing special honestly except in classes. Stats: Balanced/Sturdy

Newmans: Regenerate TP standing still. Stats: Squishy & blind but strongest magic

Casts: Regenerate health standing still, cannot use techniques, have access to traps. Stats: High accuracy, high health, high power.

Classes: (in game order)

HUmar - Cannot learn buffs Shifta or Deband. Can learn debuffs Jellen and Zalure. HUnewearl - Worst accuracy, attack, and health among hunters. Highest evade, defense, mind. Can learn all techniques except force-specific. Best jack of all trades class. HUcast - Achieves highest attack among hunters HUcaseal - Best accuracy among hunters, as well as best evade late game

RAmar - Can learn buffs Shifta and Deband, cannot learn debuffs Jellen and Zalure. Highest accuracy among rangers, worst mind. RAmarl - Can learn all techniques except force-specific. Worst health & attack among rangers, highest evade. RAcast - Highest health & attack among rangers, worst evade & accuracy. RAcaseal - Most defense of Rangers

FOmar - Highest attack, worst defense late game. FOmarl - Most health & defense among forces, worst mind & TP. FOnewm - Most TP, mind, & evade at start. Worst defense early. FOnewearl - Lowest attack & defense, strongest mind and most TP.

Mags:

Your mag is your other half. PSO2 kept this concept relatively similar thankfully. Mags evolve at levels 10, 35, and 50. From here you can achieve a 4th evolution mag (also a rare item) meeting specific requirements. Mags are just as in depth in terms of late-game but its important to have knowledge on them. This part is lengthy and I apologize. At the start of Mag feeding, it works like this; when a mag is evolved by a hunter at level 10, it will learn an AOE Photon Blast. by a ranger at level 10, it will learn a linear Photon Blast by a force at level 10, it will learn a healing Photon Blast.................... up to level 35; feeding fluids will grant mostly mind, mates will grant mostly power, antis will grant mostly dex. Atomizers will boost 2 stats at a time.

When a mag is evolved at level 35; if its highest stat is power it will learn a linear Photon Blast If its highest stat is dex it will learn an aoe Photon Blast If its highest stat is mind it will learn a Shifta Deband Photon Blast....................

And the headache part with mag feeding (apart from being fucked if you’re a force lmao) is...the 4th evolution requirements. I only mention this because I do think its important to keep in mind as you’re feeding;

In order to get a 4th evolution mag, you need to have all your stats balanced.

4th evolution mags can also only be achived by certain classes holding certain section IDs. I’d get into more specifics, but its a post on its own and Ephinea’s mag tables can be found here along with this information. You can also find feeding tables for each mag as after level 35 their diets will change drastically and no-longer easy to generalize.

Quests:

If you aren’t playing with a friend, I recommend starting off on the Side Story quests in One Person mode. You select this upon creating a game, just before difficulty selection. Several of the early quests include a buddy that familiarizes you with the game. Monsters on One person mode are also easier to kill and don’t hit as hard.

If you’re starting off with a friend, you just gotta buckle down. Try to pick your classes strategically and just grit your teeth through it, it’ll get better.

If you have a friend that can carry you even in the slightest, I recommend Towards the Future under VR at the Hunters Guild. This is a boss rush quest and starting at level 1 you can end anywhere form levels 8-12. It is common to see an open game titled TTF to join if you’re social. Once TTF starts slowing down I recommend Episodes 2 and 4 if you’re still able to be carried and I mean carried. Episodes 2 and 4 I usually recommend after you’re past the next difficulty requirements, and especially if you’re freshly 80. (I do not recommend Episode 1 Ultimate mode until around level 95 but I, too, am a glutton for punishment) Quests I recommend for grinding in Episode II: Maximum Attack E: (VR/Gal De Val) & in Episode IV: Maximum Attack E: Episode 4

Extra bullshit

Section IDs are how your drops are determined. Example: only certain ID’s get the Red Ring, others would get Rico’s Glasses, and others would get her Earrings instead, all from Falz on Ultimate.

Ephinea has their own wiki, personally I try to keep a drop chart and mag chart on a second screen at all times when I’m playing. I strongly recommend referring to them often.

Consoles all have their own Section ID assigning system, along with their own specific drops. Servers vary between each other in some ways like this too. For a general reference tool, I recommend the ancient site that has everything, PSO-World.

Playing PSO

I find it necessary to say PSO is not similar to PSO2 in the way that PSU is. PSO does not have an in-depth combat system, it can be clunky and still makes me angry sometimes.  Even I have to remind myself this game is over 20 years old. PSO2 is much more similar to PSU, despite its name. Personally I’m not the biggest fan of Universe’s story, but the Portable series absolutely shines and it takes place in the same Universe as...Universe. Characters from Universe are even in it. PSO2 has a lot of Portable 2 Infinitiy’s inspiration in it, but Infinity had PSO characters in it. As far as similarities go between PSO and PSO2 all I can compare is just the mag system, but the combat in PSU/Portable is what PSO2 evolved from.

Playing Phantasy Star

Emulators and private servers are your cheapest option. I have links to all servers on my custom theme, and I can provide roms if needed. Alternatively;

For Dreamcast: Dreamcasts can literally read burned games, assuming you no longer need the key provided that came with the game to play on the original server. (Would assume the current servers would provide those if you still need them). I haven’t played Dreamcast Online since it was alive, I was also 6 at this time. I don’t know shit about burning the games, but the real version of this game retails used for $30-50. You can still use private servers with your Dreamcast! Recommended Emulator: Redream 

For Gamecube: I assume most PSO Gamecube online players kept their games. The GC copy price of this game is all over the place with the regular and plus editions, and it seems the regular editions are running higher online for some reason at the moment, however there are very seldom listings for both. Both copies retail used for over $100 You can still use private servers with your Gamecube! (I believe this can be done with wii too) Recommended Emulator: Dolphin

For Xbox: This is the cheapest copy of the game, retails $15-$30 used. You can now play online with Insignia.Live however you need a modded Xbox, which a kit to do so will run the same price. If you mod your own Xbox and it has PSO data on it, you will lose it forever. This happened to me and I’m still dead inside from it. (but u can use voice chat which is huge friends)

There are also 6 servers to play Blue Burst on which are Ephinea, Ultima, Schthack, Destiny, and Sylverant. Consoles can be connected to several of these servers. You can also connect to Blue Burst servers via steam deck, however this requires your own programming and I cannot help you besides providing links of how to do it.

Ambitions of the Illuminus is playable online through the Clementine server. You can alternatively download a Playstation 2 emulator and I can provide a ROM for this, but I don’t use a Playstation 2 emulator for anything so I don’t have a recommendation. Both the 360 and PS2 copy of PSU retail used for $10-15. I do recommend PPSSPP for emulation of the Portable series. I can provide these ROMs as well. All copies of Portable 1, 2 and Infinity retail used for around $25. There is also finally an English translation of PSP2I. If you need help finding the rom just send an ask :)

Hot take

This biggest thing I have to stress with this game is; if you start off as a Force, you are going to have a very hard time. You constantly need to use money in order to use your techniques, unless you play newman and strategically stand around and feed your mag while your TP comes back. And most importantly, you need a mind mag. Thing is, with feeding your mag fluids, a force gets a healing photon blast to start out. And with mind being the primary stat at level 35, you get the Shifta and Deband photon blasts. You’re stuck with the most useless photon blasts possible for your character. Forces are completely badass, but they’re tricky to learn and start off, especially as a beginner. Example: FOmar was the first class my s/o picked. He is level 35. He has not touched that character in over a year but has a HUmar nearly level 100 and a RAmar over level 50.

Also, standing around in game and feeding your mag for a day is also a PERFECTLY acceptable way of playing the game.

Also my ask box is always open, and I’m happy to help with what I can if you have any questions :)

[voidcat]

a/n: scara/reader modern au drabble? idk man I should be STUDYING not thinking about hand feeding him baklava or making fun of him for failing to eat local foods

Perhaps mother was right, you shouldn’t have agreed to staying in the dorms and taken up her offer instead.

“Rooming with someone else will take some chores off my shoulders! And it’ll be closer to classes too.” That extra 20 minutes of sleep surely wasn’t worth dealing with him of all people.

From the corner of your eye you watch the most recent subject of your annoyances, humming something to himself in the kitchen, the sounds of cupboards, utensils and jars reaching you all the way to the living room.

Whatever he is cooking smells good, you admit with a bitter taste to yourself. Sure you made the idiotic choice of being a proud fool and refuse further help from her, wanting to handle things more on your own but at the very least, you could’ve asked around about him.

Then again, he did seem pretty alright. Decent speech and manners, appearing to care about order and hygiene, sounding respectful enough– it’s ironic how you fell for the ‘respectful and sensible young adult’ act when you know and experienced it first hand.

The melody of his humming switches to something else, much softer and serene now, it catches you off guard. You’d never take him to be one to enjoy such tunes, you wonder where this song is from.

The gentle hum coming to an abrupt halt and realizing he staring dead into your eyes, you realize only then you have been staring for a while.

Why did you not ask the twins, or that ginger gopnik about him before moving in? They seemed to know almost everyone in the campus somehow.

With a roll of your eyes, you redirect your focus to the book before you. You can only hope this will be your biggest and only regret for the year and every other decision you make for the remainder will go swift as the wind.

Laughter erupts from Kunikuzushi, filling the entire space as you stare at your bowl in horror, the jar still in your grip.

Agreeing to a lunch of his suggestion though on mutual agreement you both would prepare in your own ways, he was already being a bother making snide comments at everything you added and didn’t add, how you did it and so on…

“What is that thing?” He says with judgement in his voice, as you give the jar a shake. “Curry.”

“Darling, have you heard of curry blocks or using a spoon– or are you just this incompetent in the kitchen?” you can hear the amusement in his voice as he watches you open the lid, slightly tapping at the jar’s bottom as you watch the spice fall into the bowl.

“No thank you,” you begin with a singsong voice, “eyeballing is just fine–“ the words die in your throat as a huge load of curry fills the bowl.

And to your horror Kunikuzushi only stands there drinking in your expression, clutching at his stomach and not even bothering to stop his tears.

For the following weeks you’re not allowed to do anything in the kitchen unless he sees you use measure the ingredients you add, few more months pass and by then it’s all under the rug. Chances of him forgetting the curry incident is very low but he doesn’t tease you as much anymore, though he still mocks you for all your precious ‘that’s how we do it.’ claims, “so that’s why your cooking always gave me a stomach ache.” “Have you considered you just have weak intestines instead?”

For the earlier part of your living situation with Kunikuzushi, the two of you kept to yourselves.

One by one his attitude would show, only to be met with yours, to the point Ajax jokes about putting two goats in the same room only to earn glares from you both.

Where you had an order to yourself, he found it messy, moving around your things to make space for himself when the other half of the couch was perfectly empty.

Most of the things he did, you were aware it was to get on your nerves– what a sad life he must be living to tormenting you become his entertainment.

So you fight fire with fire, feign innocence with a twirl of your hair sometimes, sure there are times you can be messy but you had caught a glimpse into his room, he has no right judging how you live.

Somehow with time, it falls into a routine. What first begins as having extra tea or coffee left and neither of you being fond of wasting food, you make each other offers through gritted teeth.

Having your meals become joint is a mess in and on itself though, him clearly struggling with sumeru cuisine and how to eat some of the meals whereas you share a similar problem with inazuma’s, some of the food just not to your taste, too cold and all that.

when one is too occupied with studying or a project that seems to be draining the life force out of them, the other begins acts on instinct, beverages and food that'll help placed near them in no time. first it is nutrients offered, and next, company.

it becomes the norm at that point to have Kunikuzushi sit down next to you with a book, or just his phone in hand, occasionally stealing a glance at you, reprimanding you if he catches you procrastinating. "if you need to look something up that badly, tell me and i'll do it for you– until then, give me your phone."

every single time, you huff and groan, yet every single time this works.

and Kunikuzushi finds out why people offer hugs when they cannot do anything else as his thoughts eating away at him disperse when he feels your arms wrapped around his form.

you admit it too late to his liking, in the future, that you aren't fond of physical contact yourself, let alone initiating it on your own– but it has worked, and still works as wonderfully as the first time, though he no longer stands straight like a stick and instead melts back into your arms.

you learn over time that despite his attitude and personality, Kunikuzushi is quite nice. Behind the front he puts up, he is as gentle as that song he hummed once long ago.

"Fine! If you won't eat it yourself, i'll make you– just– open up!"

Kunikuzushi dodges your hand, and the little cube you seem to be holding, ignoring your frustrated sighs. "I said no, you daft, cat-obsessed freak. I am sick of you and your weird food–"

A corner of the dessert in your hands smears the corner of his mouth, much to his chargin, a victorious smile already blooming on your face when you notice him slowing down upon contact.

"One bite or I'll go out drinking with Ajax."

At the mention of the skyscrapper sized carrot, Kunikuzushi halts. You wouldn't dare, not with him, not when tonight is movie night.

"What?" you tilt your head, as if reading his mind, "think I'm bluffing? Dear, we have played that game countless times before, you should know I am serious right now."

Agreeing to your weird card games was another grave mistake on Kunikuzushi's part, or tagging along with you to game nights and get togethers with those fools you call friends and laugh around so much.

Though you did have a point, if there is one thing he gained, it is the ability to spot whether you are bluffing or not– seeing the shocked expressions on everyone else's face whenever the two of you referred to one another with poison laced terms of endearment was just the cherry on top.

It was the norm for the two of you at this point. To tease and annoy nonstop, knowing the other party has no malice behind their words, it was fun, trying to get the other to flush first, or hurry back to their room with a slam of their door.

Kunikuzushi began to wonder sometimes if you thought about him.

With a roll of his eyes, he lets out a sigh, eyes cast to the side, arms crossing in front of him. "Fine, you no-good of a roommate."

Waiting a second for more remarks to come, only for him to stay silent, you beam, leaning towards him again. Could you not move your hand with a force, you were getting sticky pieces of your weird dessert all over the couch!

"But–" he puts up a finger in front of your nose, stopping you, "one bite, as agreed." you nod at his words, "and I am choosing the movie for tonight."

At that, your nod comes to a stop, seeming to contemplate, you nod again, "Deal. Now open up." and bring the dessert to his lips.

A golden cube-like dessert, with some greens in the middle. From the looks, Kunikuzushi can tell this is one of those desserts with 'sherbet', mentally preparing himself for a toothache.

Staring at him with big eyes, your face is too close to his, he can feel the warmth of your breath getting mixed with the dessert's scent.

When he bites into it, he doesn't expect it to crunch. Your vacant hand immediately bolting up to hover under the dessert to catch any excess pieces of the layers from falling onto your legs.

Giving it a chew and letting its taste spread on his tongue, Kunikuzushi realizes the greens are pistachio and finds the sweetness of the sherbet not bothering him unlike those fried dough bits you made him try once.

Without a second thought, he leans in for a second bit, uncaring for your surprised yet amused laughter beginning to fill the room. Only when his lips make contact with something too soft and warm to be that cube you were holding, that he realizes he ate it in no time and almost bit your fingers.

When you shake your index at him "what happened to not biting the hand that feeds you, where have your manners gone to, Kuni?" he doesn't bother with a reply, knowing he brought this onto himself long ago.