#idk im just building up my tiny handful of words lmao

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[imrllytootiredforthis]

cy i have so many ideas its crazy 😭😭

when i was in high school i hated my chemistry classes 💀💀but now when i think about it... yk in some classrooms especially where biology and chemistry classes are held there is a small room attached to them like a storeroom? where they have all the equipment and supplies ? lmao this is already so long but i just needed to describe it, it gets better i promise

so like yesterday i randomly remembered one of my chemistry classes and suddenly i thought abt soob in those glasses like you know, the black ones ..him in a doctor's coat and..the other students are in class totally unaware of what two new teachers are doing in the storeroom😋😋damn just,, making out w him all while having ur knee between his crotch?? ordering him to be quiet or else everyone will find out what a slut their new chem teacher is (he'd secretly love it, we all know the boy is a slut for degradation and humiliation)😔he'd whimper soso much he wants more and he needs more, he's so riled up,, practically drooling but the fact that he can't have u fuck the brains out of him now makes him practically cry and beg to stop,, the pleasure is too much to handle☹️☹️(u could literally swear at him😭😭i bet he'd let out a couple of moans at that😴)

PLS THIS IS SO LONG,,,i couldn't stop myself cause begging soob>> idk whats gotten into me lately but ig i have a tiny thing for exhibitionism?😩😩no but fr its so hot?

p.s. im glaad ur here for the weekend 😭😭i'll patiently wait for ur official comeback ❣️

i saw this right when i woke up...and jesus, i love you so, so much because😵‍💫😵‍💫

are you, by chance talking abt this soob?...

him in a white lab coat😵‍💫😵‍💫

okay, okay

class started 10 minutes ago. the students are confused, checking the time, emailing their two new teachers to the class, some are even straight-up leaving, muttering about a waste of time

most stay, wondering if they just forgot or got stuff in traffic or something else

completely unaware to the fact that in the little storage closet off to the side of the room...

their pretty professor is shoved up against the wall, pinned with his arms beside his head, lip tugged between his teeth, panting and whining as he grinds down on your knee.

god, he's so needy, trying to quietly beg for more, gasping at the feeling of your teeth grazing his neck

"y'know, this isn't very professional professor choi," you start, pulling away, too composed when all he can do is let out the neediest little mewl, trying to reach his high while tears form in his eyes.

"d-don't care!" he tries to pull his hands away, cup himself and get the stimulation you're just barely giving him but your grip is iron strong, smile all too teasing and all too mean. "just m-make me feel good! please, wan', wan' you to fuck me!"

you press your thigh up against him hard. "right when all of our students are just outside, huh? want them to know that their professor is in here getting fucked like a slut?"

the moan he lets out is nothing less than completely ruined and very, very loud, reverberating through the small room in a way that would've been so hot if not where you were

his hand is free suddenly, as you slap a hand over his mouth, his eyes going wide. "shut up, you slut," you hiss,

the tears fall and you can feel drool building up behind your hand, he can't help himself, his head going on overdrive, his free hand gripping the bottom of your leg, fucking himself desperately against it.

"please, please, please," he whimpers, words garbled against your hand. "more, need more!"

[adam-memeleri]

Imperfections

it may not be foreign affairs anymore, but its still ayna day in my heart 😔❤️. thanks @gay-dinosaur-banana-milk-carton for the prompt again, i threw in some angst this time cuz i like pain :) kinky

no idea when anything takes place, but im aiming for during the fake relationship i think ?? who knows tbh

-

tagging -@bubblelaureno @lookingforsomethingcuzimbored @swimmingshoebakerydreamer @alccaddsccup @cardinalnuggets

if you do or do not wanna be tagged

Masterlists shameless self promotion lmao

T Rating (uhhhh i think hurt/comfort? primarily? idk man)

Ayna x MC (Kennedy, they/them)

~2k words unedited but thats nothing new now is it?

-

Ayna’s fingers fasten a necklace clasp behind her neck, every movement careful and precise as she readies herself. They move to her hair, fixing it for the nth time, just to assure it’s perfect.

It has to be perfect, all of it. Every hair, every pore, every fine detail - it’s all been carefully thought through for weeks now, for this one specific date.

Valentine’s Day.

The end all be all, at least this year. She’s never given it much thought before, but she’s never really had a reason to. Until this year. Until this crazy, wild, borderline disastrous year. Until the day Kennedy stumbled into her class, all smiles and longing looks.

Until she spent days looking forward to coffee house meetups, until short texts could make her whole day, until every class was an excuse to share a small smile. And, unfortunately, until those meetups were forced to end, until those texts stopped coming, until class was just a reminder that even smiles were dangerous.

But not today. She had a plan today, a foolproof, perfect plan. No planned meetups, no trackable texts, nothing too out in the open. And she’d be damned if it failed.

She turns from the hanging mirror, shrugging on a jacket and tugging on a nice pair of shoes before straightening. Her reflection stares back at her, carefully done makeup and slightly askew glasses. She quickly adjusts them, tucking back one last strand of hair.

With one last glimpse at herself, she grabs the bouquet of roses she picked out earlier in the day, bright red petals resting on her table. And with that she leaves, exiting her building and venturing onto Vancross campus.

She eventually steps out onto one of the many winding paths leading through the school’s grounds, carefully making her way to the expansive library settled in one corner of campus. It’s familiar warmth shines through the windows, yellow lights on even in the darkening night for cramming and over enthusiastic students.

Ayna’s fingers tighten over the door’s handle, tugging it open as a small, excited grin overtakes her lips. She steps inside, flowers poised in her hands regardless of how cheesy they may be, and scans for

They’re with her. Sitting with her, talking with her, laughing with her. They’ve been doing everything with her, and today’s no different. Today’s not special, not exempt, not reserved for Ayna.

Huddled close at a table, books spread before the pair as they whisper, heads so close. Arms touching, smiles wide, chairs so close. They’re so close, that’s all Ayna can think about as she simply stands there, all her previous excitement evaporating from her body.

And they don’t even notice her. Kennedy’s gaze doesn’t flicker in her direction in the way it always does. Their cheeks don’t flush when they’re caught like they always do in the lecture hall. Their hands don’t fidget with barely contained nerves, atop the table, a pen twirling between anxious fingers.

Their gaze is glued to Evelyn’s features, their cheeks dust in a blush from her words, their hands are relaxed as they lean against her shoulder. They don’t even notice Ayna.

She turns on her heel, quickly rushing out the library’s front doors and into the dusk settled around campus. Her heels clack with some strange anger, some swirling in the pit of her gut as her fist clenches, crushing the bouquet she spent so long picking out.

And all for naught. This is all for naught, that’s the worst part. The outfit, the shoes, the hair and makeup - all for absolutely nothing.

She stalks to a trash can resting beside the pavement, glaring down at it with pale knuckles and a furrow in her brow. She breaks, like a glass hitting concrete. She breaks, stuffing the ridiculous flowers into the bin over and over again, until she’s just needlessly exerting herself, needlessly scratching herself on discarded thorns.

Little nicks on her skin, tiny imperfections to ruin it all. A visual of her failings, a marking to remind her of this disastrous night. A brand forged without fire, one that’ll remain in the morning, even after she’s washed off the rest of tonight. Even when the mascara and curls and jacket are discarded in the next few hours, the cuts will stay, at least for a few days.

She breaks once more, from the trash bin as an angry and hurt tear slips down her cheek. A crumpled fist hurriedly wipes it away, before she’s stamping down the paved path once more, shoulders tight and expression pinched.

“Hey! Ayna!” a voice rings behind her, out of breath as quick footsteps draw closer and closer. “Hey,” a hand softly grasps her sleeve, a smiling face slipping into her line of sight.

“Hey,” she mumbles back, her gaze trained on the pavement beneath her feet, feet that haven’t once halted.

Kennedy slows by her side, falling into step with her easily. “Tatum said he saw you come into the library then leave, what’s up?”

Ayna’s shoulders lift in a halfhearted shrug, slumping with an exhale. “Nothing.”

“You sure? You seem kinda… distant.”

“I’m fine.”

“Well, okay,” Kennedy relents, head swiveling as they search for something to occupy her attention. “Um, happy Valentine’s!” Their hands clap together excitedly, expression alight with a beaming smile. “I wanted to call you or something earlier, but Winston was hovering over me all day and I don’t know… You’re usually busy this time of night and I didn’t want to bother you.”

Ayna shrugs again, her hands fisted in her pockets. “I’m not busy.”

“Really? Then let’s do something!”

Her gaze snaps up, shock sparking throughout her mind. “What?” she blanks, stopping in her tracks to further scrutinise Kennedy.

“Yeah!” Kennedy’s grin is brilliant, even in the low light, before they glance about the quad. Their hands slip into Ayna’s, fingers tangling with hers, before they’re tugging her along, away from the light posts and travelled paths.

She’s led past the bushes, to a secluded bench, empty branches hanging above it, stretching from a large tree. A soft breeze stirs them, whistling through the leafless wood.

“Okay,” Kennedy starts, sucking in a deep breath. “So I know this is super late, and I don’t really know how to go about this, but…” they meet her eyes, hope glimmering within, “would you, Ayna Seth, do me the honour of being my Valentine?”

She blinks. Not a single other muscle moves, her breath halts in her lungs, her brain malfunctions entirely, and the only thing she can do is blink. Again. And again.

“...Ayna?” Kennedy squeezes her hands where they still rest in theirs.

“You really… Really?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ve been trying to find a good time for ages, so I figured… Are you bleeding?”

“What?”

“You’re bleeding! Your hands!” they grip her forearm, tugging her down to the bench, where they carefully cradle her hands in their lap. Their fingers hover over her skin, not sure what to do as they send uneasy glances up to Ayna’s eyes.

She inspects the scratches now, all of them shallow and mostly painless. “It’s just a few cuts,” she mumbles, Kennedy’s panicked gaze quieting her.

“What happened?” they whisper, as if worried the volume of their voice could inflict further damage.

“I, um -” Ayna steals her hands back, folding them in her lap to hide them. “The flowers,” she worries her bottom lip between her teeth, “They had thorns.”

“You should be more careful.”

“Okay,” she nods, still biting her lip.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“You’ve been wanting to ask me out?” They speak at the same time, concern brimming in Kennedy’s eyes and disbelief in Ayna’s.

A grin quirks Kennedy’s lips as they settle against the bench, arm draped over the back. “I asked first.”

“Barely,” Ayna chuckles lighty.

“Still got there first.”

Ayna shakes her head in exasperation, a fond smile lifting her lips. Before it all falls away, replaced by a crease between her brows. “I, um,” she shifts in her seat awkwardly, struggling for the words. “I don’t think I’m as comfortable with the fake relationship as I thought I was…”

“Okay,” Kennedy answers quickly, easily.

“What?” she balks, jaw working for words. “Are you sure?” is all she manages.

“Of course,” they chime, just as quickly, as easily. “If you’re jealous or uncomfortable, I’ll do whatever I can to put a stop to it.”

Ayna’s jaw snaps shut, a frown curving her mouth, “I’m not jealous.”

“Oh really?” Kennedy’s voice hums, a teasing lilt to it.

“I’m not,” Ayna’s frown deepens.

“Okay…” they hum again, leaning closer as their voice lowers. “So you’d have no problem with me, say, asking out Evelyn for real?” Their eyebrow raises, head cocking to the side. “Or what about Blaine? Maybe Zaira…?” they tap their chin thoughtfully.

Ayna starts, “Don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” her voice tapers off, replaced by the bouncing of her leg and the picking of a nail.

“You’re jealous?” Kennedy supplies with an amused smile.

Ayna deflates, sighing heavily, “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Being… jealous,” she almost spits the word, distaste heavy on her tongue and sloshing in her stomach.

Kennedy shifts closer, their body warm against Ayna’s in the cool night air. “Don’t be. It’s normal, it’s fine,” they take her hand, their palm covering tiny cuts, tiny imperfections with warmth and comfort. “I’d get jealous if you were walking around with someone too.”

“You’re not weirded out by it?”

“No, it’s normal,” They squeeze Ayna’s hand, thumb brushing lightly on her skin. “It’s human. You’re human.”

“I still don’t like it,” she scowls, eliciting a nudge and smirk from Kennedy.

“That’s fine, too,” they reassure, a more serious expression taking over. “So what happened with the thorns?”

“I got you roses,” Ayna’s cheeks flush dark, “Even though I know it’s lame, and then I kinda, uh, threw them out.”

A wide grin breaks across Kennedy’s face as they sidle up against Ayna, throwing their arm over her shoulder. “One:” they count off on the hand resting over her shoulder, “that’s adorable, and two: why’d you toss them?”

She doesn’t move beneath their arm, sitting stiff and rigid, her voice the same, “I got jealous and ruined them. I wanted tonight to be perfect, it was supposed to be perfect, and I ruined it.”

“Stop that. You didn’t ruin anything,” Kennedy scolds. “I told you, jealousy’s human. And I tend to like the things about you that make you human. It’d be weird if my Valentine was a robot,” they tease, nudging Ayna until she joins them in smiling.

She finally faces them fully, her own eyebrow jutting upwards, “I never said I’d be your Valentine.”

“You didn’t, did you?” Their arm retracts, leg folding on the bench as their body rotates towards hers. Their palms clasp in their lap as they lean forward, a smirk on their lips. “So what’ll it be, Ayna? Be my Valentine? My perfectly imperfect Valentine?”

She chuckles, shaking her head as she finally relaxes, the teasing familiar. “That doesn’t make any sense,” she smiles softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind her ear, unbothered by it.

“It does if you turn off the robot brain,” Kennedy lightly taps Ayna on the nose, laughing when her face scrunches.

“The robot brain is a part of the Valentine’s package.”

Kennedy squints, eyes roving over Ayna’s features. The askew glasses, the smudged lipstick, the flyaway hairs. “Are the roses also a part of it?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Then I’m all in,” they grin, just as infectious and brilliant as always. “So? Valentines?” they prod, wiggling their eyebrows playfully.

Ayna smiles softly back, scratched hands rising to cup Kennedy’s cheeks and close the already shrinking distance between them. “Valentines,” she murmurs against their lips, a whispered promise. Before they meet, light and soft and full of the light that’s held beyond the bushes.

[remsmoonlight]

— title : broken facade ( part one ? )

— word count : 2.6 k words

— pairing : john wick x reader

— summary : john thought he could keep his old world dead and buried, he was wrong

— warnings : mentions of death, blood, extremely minor swearing, kidnapping, mentions of drugging.. idk maybe a bit of hurt and angst? idk where i was going with this i spent so long on it lmao im very sorry

Nothing can be heard over the continuous shattering of the fractured pieces of a silent promise he repeated to himself every morning he woke and the last thing that ran through his mind before he would cease to resist the urge to sleep. It’s the only promise kept hidden from you and there was no going back from its state of shards, what kind of man is he if the one thing he kept close to his heart is no more.

Never let that life lay a finger on them.

Now, here he is. Knowing that the life he had previously led has wormed itself back to him, it has sullied your spirit and for that, he can find no forgiveness in his soul for himself. It’s him that is why you have been torn away from him so mercilessly, why you are in the situation you are in. He would give his life a thousand times and a thousand times over if it means you are safe, away from the harsh and cold blooded world he knows so well.

Although, the remnants of his old life is not a friend greeting him after an age has passed, but rather.. a  foe that wishes to lead him down the trail to its murky depths.

He assumes that the steering wheel that is gripped so stiffly by his hands only wish to buckle and crumble under the weight he is setting down upon it, though there is no other way to channel the highly agitated energy that swirls within him. Until you are back in his arms can he find the strength to completely calm the brutal waters that wish to overwhelm him, the only thing saving him is the objective that is removing you from the grasps of the Tarasovs’.

The same is unable to be said for you, the fear that you feel coursing throughout your entire being is the only thing that you can concentrate on. This is the clearest you have been for days, since you had been taken from your refuge from the world. You are sure that you’ve been drugged, though you can’t decide truly if that fact is a blessing or a curse. Being an unwilling participant in whatever you had found yourself in would prove difficult for those who held your life in their hands, and as much as you want to put up a fight, it’s impossible. You can see just how tense everyone in this cold, desolate room is. It’s not ideal to prod and provoke the Devil, especially as it has the power to rip you from the reality you know.

Your heart swells from the haunting image that plays continuously like an olden film, with the grit and burns. It’s a desire that you yearn so intensely for to rid your brain of the bloodied and battered John, you had never seen him so defenseless. You wonder if he is still breathing, if he is suffering from being so broken.

“ hey! why don’t you just let me go? “ you call out to anyone in the room, your fingers fidgeting anxiously with the threads of the scarf wrapped protectively around your neck.

“ shut the fuck up! “

You switch your gaze from the man who yelled, knowing that there is no point in arguing, to the one playing on the game console. Fear and self preservation that rules your body into silence battling with the confusion you find yourself experiencing at how one of the other men could feel so relaxed to the point he can play games.

Though he’s not the one who’s been kidnapped you think with a stern frown deeply painting your features, you simply wished you could be wrapped up in your duvet with a straight to dvd cheap movie playing.

The next moment a colossal bang erupted, spilling through the entirety of the room -- you have no idea where to look, your entire feeling as if it had been frozen in a moment of time. It’s not until a thud pulls you out of your cloud, and it’s one of the men who have fallen to the ground. Your eyes widen at the sight, you’ve seen such brutality in movies and television shows but never could they capture the true horror that lays in front of you.

The crimson liquid is never ending as it exits from the wound, you want to rip your eyes away from the repulsive scene yet you find yourself in a trance, with a magnetic pull that refuses to bend its will to yours. Only when your skin feels fingers digging deep into clothed flesh is your head able to turn, your feet already on the move. Your eyes refuse to acknowledge the further death that lay motionlessly on the floor, the bodies as cold as the temperature.

Rumbles fill your hearing, it’s hardly a chore to know that they’re under attack, by who you have little idea. Though a tiny spark of hope, so small it’s hardly noticeable, hums in your core. Perhaps it may be the authorities, here to put a permanent end to your newfound nightmare. Whatever it is, it has these men scared -- though, when you think back.. they have been on edge since you have had the unfortunate experience of knowing them. No matter how hard you previously tried to decipher some sort of idea, even a faded picture of what you have been caught up in, they were quick to respond with venom and hostility.

“ let go of me! “ words tumble from your lips as you try to dig your feet in further to the metal steps, hands clawing at the railings as if they could protect you.

Nothing is said to you, had it not been for the male’s grip on your arm, you could assume that they have no idea of your presence. Countless nights you had found yourself wishing for such, that they would forget your existence and you would be then able to escape. Never has that wish been granted.

Burns from the metal grasped so firmly scorch your palms, you can feel the need to survive driving yourself to fight and struggle.. opportunities to escape had been bare, the one presented now is one that you refuse to elude you so swiftly. Again, a body drops from a gunshot -- your shock proving more of a force than anything, because the hold that had been so secure on your arm severs without you comprehending it for a passing moment in time.

The leap your heart completes knows no bounds, the disturbance at seeing the violence occur at the man you have only known to be gentle and warm overwhelmed by your exhilaration that he is there and safe. John hardly acknowledges you as he passes your trembling form, his mind focused on one thing and one thing only. It’s no surprise when you decide to turn away, not wishing to have your image of him shattered any more than it has already. Though, you wonder how detrimental protecting your dream like depiction of him is.

A faze, it’s all your mind can think of describing the journey from the harsh confines of the barren property to where you reside currently. The journey from one place to the other mesh together, your memories betraying you in your inability to process everything that happened.

A hand grazes your skin comfortingly, though the suddenness pulls you out from beneath your thoughts.

“ i’m sorry. “ John speaks, keeping his eyes straight ahead on the road.

A frown sketches itself onto your brows as you turn to face him, you are unable to understand what he means by his words. The scenery passes by in a blur, stuck in a timeless state of thinking, you realise that you’ve not responded to him. How do you respond to something like? You wonder to yourself, loathing the fact that you cannot reply, a misunderstanding of rejection isn’t something needed for the moment. Against your better judgement, you need the opposite.

“ John - I - what? “

The feather like weight on your hand is still there, though now there is a contrast of tenderness and peace that had only known violence and blood exploring the expanse of his fingertips, only now a ghostly image not yet faded.

“ it got worse for you, because of me. “ he replies with a pitch as solid as stone, still refusing to make eye contact.

Though it’s not known to you that the reason he refuses to look at you is because he cannot yet come to terms with the fact that the two significant fractions of his life, the past and the present, have collided so effortlessly. He doesn’t yet want to acknowledge his part to play in the scars of his old word being the reason your surface now bears the brunt of being blemished by its cold, callous hands. He doesn’t want to have to bear witness to the tears that have stained your usually bright features, knowing the darkness that had once consumed his life wished to stretch its skeletal grip to you, threatening to eclipse the light of hope you unknowingly provide every chance he gets to set his sights on your form.

“ you’re not making any sense. “ you turn to face him now, trying to read his expression. Though, it’s at a loss. When he needs to be, he can be extremely hard to read.

“ that guy? the one I shot.. I used to work for his father. “

You blink, still failing to see the picture. You’re able to make a mental sketch, but you still need final pieces. Yes, he was connected.. but how is he at fault? Was it some sort of vengeance? Blackmail? The list is an endless trail your mind explores at the new piece of information, however it’s only John who can provide the key.

“ what does that have to do with everything that happened? “

“ there’s a reason why I’ve never told you much about my past. “ he replies softly, his mind wandering to find the most rational way to word the difficult tale, whose twists and turns trailed over it as if they were no more than a line of vines full of poison.

Though, the inner voice belonging to him knows there is no outcome that bodes well for him, the inevitable can’t be written off nor can it be denied.

“ so tell me, please? “ you plead with him, your nervous energy building and building in the tips of your fingers. They tap on the end of the car seat as you wait for his response.

“ before we met, I did things. I killed. “

It has to be quick John thinks to himself. There’s not a way that what he has to say, his past can be primped and perfumed into a pretty little picture, not when that picture is haunted by all the life that had been ripped from the world by his hand.

“ this is a joke, right? “ you laugh, incredulously. Gazing at his form it was as if the energy around him had inverted, there is no way that John, your John could do such things. The gentle smile of his, the thoughtfulness he demonstrates each day would battle his words, but the solidity and lack of humour being shown from him..? You’re tempted to believe.

“ I wish it was. “

“ there’s.. I don’t even know what to say. “ your brows furrow low, a bleakness setting itself into your expression as you try to come to terms with his answer.

“ you don’t have to. “ he speaks with difficulty, while he had expected more hatred from your eyes, he dares not to hope you will stay. Not after everything he has brought down upon you.

Fresh tears build up, until they are no more than a glassy barrier preventing clear vision. You will them to recede, to fade away until they’re nothing more than shadows. You have seen many horrors, more in the past week than your whole life and the man you love has had a direct part in that? You can’t erase the images of him gunning your captor, but you can’t erase all the sweet whispers after nights of lust and love, all the hours spent talking about life and what you would do. A stark contrast to the man you first got to know.

“ this isn’t something I can pretend to understand, but why hold something like this from me? Why wouldn’t you tell me eventually? “ you question, many emotions are clawing over each other to rise to your surface, preventing you from thinking straight.. yet it’s frustration that is victorious.

“ I never thought I'd be back. “

“ you need to understand, things like that? They don’t go away, they have a way of coming back and biting you in the ass. “

“ yeah, I see that now. “

A groan erupts from your parted lips, dropping your head in your hands. Your fingers drag their way across your scalp, this is something you argue would be seen in a movie.. not your life. The feelings you have are conflicted and inconsistent, any normal person would jump out of the moving care.. but a part of you can’t cast him aside so easily. What you have, that’s what you know is real.

“ John, I - I need time. At the minute.. I just don’t know what to think. With everything that’s happened. “

“ I get that. You’ll be seen to, for your injuries. “

A smile, small in size lifts the darkness from your eyes ever so slightly. Your injuries are bare, save for a few scrapes on your face. It’s the mental ones that begin to frighten you. They’re not so easily treatable. A smile that wishes with all its might that it is so easy.

“ to be honest.. I just want to go home. “ you lift your head up from its concealment as you share to him your one simple desire, your eyes imploring him to follow through with your request.

“ soon. “ he finally turns his head to look at you, to finally see you properly. All he wants is for you to be safely protected in his arms, as he mutters countless apologies that he longs you forgive him for. By no means is he a perfect man, but he can strive for such for you.

“ John, I’m not dead. I’m just tired. “

“ please, don’t. “

It’s curious, the tone in his voice as he replies to you. You can’t place it, though it’s very unlike him. Your left hand removes itself from the warmth of his palm to place yours atop of his, lending your warmth and comfort to him. The fact that both of you have fresh mental scars from the ordeal is becoming promptly evident.

“ I just want to make sure you’re okay. “

“ John, I don’t know what to think, what to feel. This is just.. the craziest thing. “

“ yeah, and it’s my fault. “ he exclaims lowly, as if he’s speaking more to himself than you. Berating himself for something that was never in his control.

You shake your head, hating the way he’s talking of himself. It’s enough to rouse some anger within you, though you know better than to make the situation between the two of you worse.

“ look, I know I can’t make you think otherwise.. but you never took me away. You never hid me from building to building, you were the one who saved me. “ you argue, ferocity cautiously coating your words. Your grip settled on top of his hand growing. “ I can’t stop seeing what you did, but you were the one who got me out. I need some quiet from it all. “

Your words, you hope, are strong. Trying to separate what you have seen that day is not something that will come as light as the clouds above your head do when they shower upon you, the thought that you fear you may never do is something you keep close to your chest for now.

To protect the both of you.

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

y’know the one thing I hated while I was doing my arts degree, and still hate after having graduated from it, is the condescending statement/belief from people that “oh why didn’t you just do a more useful degree like maths or science???? and not your useless bullshit mickey mouse arts degree, which was never intended to give anyone jobs outside of teaching, anyway!” or some other horrendous bullshit, such as: “why didn’t you just stay with communication & media studies and complete the marketing & PR major???? you would’ve had a job after all of the unpaid internships you do throughout the course!” or whatever. (media and communications is abbreviated to m&cs further down in this post, just an fyi).

but, meredith. do you know that even people with science & maths degrees struggle to find meaningful work that’s related to their degrees? do you know that some of those people will turn to teaching anyway just because they feel like there’s nothing else that they can do??? do you know that some people (mainly me and probably quite a few others) just can’t handle maths past like idk year 6 level??? I would’ve been completely and utterly fucked if I even tried to set foot in first year uni science or maths subjects. even though some of the content did interest me.... (also there’s the fact that my handwriting wasn’t good enough for diagrams etc etc in maths & science- but that’s a whole other topic not for this post).

like I had to totally skip out of psychology/sociology and even the PR major, bc they required you to do statistics subjects.... where no matter what level of study I would’ve/could’ve done for those subjects, i would’ve still failed them spectacularly because my mind really struggles with processing and working with numbers. but that’s besides the point.

hey earl, do you know some people simply do not suit particular fields of “real world” or “practical” study areas like business subjects? trust me. I tried that one sem of marketing 101 and intro to management/ business communications in first year. and you know what I found? that my mind just could not take the complete and utter dryness of the content of marketing theory and, again, numbers. and that’s despite the earnest encouragement of my tutor, who thought I had a knack for marketing. i literally almost fucking died in that business communications subject... even though the lecturer seemed to like me as well. but as i thought further ahead into my degree in comms & media, i dreaded it. I absolutely fucking dreaded it. the PR stuff sounded as equally dry & boring (besides the point that every project was group work lmao) and so did upper level marketing subs in advertising/marketing strategy/various fields of marketing etc etc. i couldn’t stomach that lmao. and besides the point, the analysing of media just bored the fuck out of me too, for some reason. I just didn’t like the subject. hell, even my advanced diploma in marketing from business college was a fucking hard slog for me.

but when i sat in my english, philosophy, (kind sorta) history and -further down the track- creative writing subjects.... I fucking loved them. I was writing like I’d always wanted to. okay yes I did get pretty dismal marks in most of my philosophy and english exams or assignments. but I don’t fucking care. I was there doing what my mind was built for. if id tried another business subject, like intro to economics or even gone back to redo that “intro to management”/“business communications” (or whatever it was called) as an elective/as electives, i probably would’ve dropped out of either of them in the first 2 weeks. whenever i read those subject descriptions, they literally put me to sleep.

also, for the media and comms point. do you know that there’s loads of media & comms students that don’t get jobs because there’s just such a HUGE intake of students in those courses??? do you know that that the most popualr field in that degree stream (at least when I started that degree at my local home uni in 2015) was journalism & professional writing??? where literally EVERYONE was aiming to be a journalist????

I was one of the very, very few people when I began in media and comms, to outwardly say that she was there to do marketing or maybe the marketing & PR double major.... and everyone looked at me as if I was insane. “why don’t you want to be a journalist? I think journalism is so cool and that I’m more likely to get a job in that than you are in marketing or PR. you actually engage with real people in journalism and do meaningful stuff with the community!” was one of the utterly dumb responses I sometimes got from people in that course, when I told them the above. but you know what kelsey, or, trent? neither one or any of us are “more likely” to get jobs in media & comms... when you’re both competing against people with “proper” straight journalism degrees who might have more media experience than you- if you didn’t do an internship or do some uni newsroom/magazine or whatever.... or maybe more streamlined (if that’s the right word) media &comms degrees.... as well as generally competing against each other, in the same field, for the fucking same exact jobs. while im competing against commerce students doing marketing and PR and people doing the PR & marketing major in m&cs.

also in relation to the above, doing multiple unpaid or even severely underpaid internships in journalism, or even marketing, probably won’t fucking secure your chance of getting a bloody job, adam. just shut the fuck up. those internships may have helped you. but they most likely won’t help most people, theresa. because there’s only a tiny freakin chance that the place that they worked for will actually give them a guranteed job at the end of their internship’s timeframe or at the end of their whole degree. it’s a fucking scam lmao.

and plus, (not to be as rude as you were to me).... but why the FUCK would you want to go into journalism.... when it’s been debased so fucking much by media outlets like buzzfeed; writing nothing but clickbait bullshit listicles.... and is polluted by internet virality.... so much so, that more than half of the people my course had the career goal of being a viral youtuber or an instagram influencer???? like i’m sorry. this is a dumb asf course, no matter the field you’ve chosen to study.... and there’s no way that a single one of you will be a successful viral youtuber or an instagram influencer???? what on fucking earth led you to believe that????

like no offence. but there’ll only be a lucky, lucky, lucky few who get to be the next jennamarbles, ray william johnson, pewdiepie, lily singh, tanya hennessy, jeffree star, james charles, etc etc.... or hell, even friendlyjordies (if you want some satire & politics). and for instagrammers.... idek know them. someone list some instagrammers lmao. but my point still stands.

being an influencer or youtuber- both with huge followings- is a fucking pipe dream- as much as me being a hugely successful author is. it only goes to the insanely lucky, lucky few who have the right connections and the right digital savviness/finesse to grow to be uber successful.... or who started super early, before it was even considered a job title (like jenna mourey/marbles and ray william johnson listed above, and several others not listed who have big fan followings on here) and eventually grew to be the first original titans of the youtuber job title.

or again, they already have some type of other successful media career (like tanya hennessy is an aussie radio announcer. jeffree star had a short lived myspace music career in the late 000s mostly, and made cameos in emo music videos and LA ink at the time also, for example) so that they can successfully fund their youtube channels and/or instagrams as side projects or whatever, as part of their media portfolio.... and they also know how to engage and grow follower bases etc. because they already have an existing one. so it’s twice as easy for them.

tbh i actually entered the m&cs course bc of my use of this hellsite and all the weird trends it had and stuff.... but I eventually got over that as I realised that I just did NOT fit into that field of study. I realised I was too shy... and I also just hated the fact that I had to learn how to use twitter and wordpress and probably eventually snapchat & instagram 😂

i had also gotten sick of follower counts and “growing a following”- considering that by 2015, I’d hit over 3,000 followers on here, I think.... and I realised just what energy and time it took to build this blog.... and my followers.... that I just didn’t have the energy to expend on other platforms for the same thing lmao. like it seemed like more wasted time. I was tired. in addition to that, i also realised that i didn’t want to waste my whole fucking career on the internet worrying over a business’s/company’s multiple corporate social media channel follower counts and image etc.... when i’d done enough of that for myself on this hellsite lmao. doing that stuff with other students in the m&cs course seemed fake asf, especially when it came to giving feedback comments etc lol.

but do you know that one place where you don’t have to give a flying fuck about followers, post views/comments, and blog views? philosophy and english. lmao 😅. no one gives a fuck what you say. unless, of course, you have the evidence and the force of argument to back your pov up. that’s what I was about and am still about. I loved reading and analysing the many books I had to read (contrary to the complaint posts that I made on here lmao)- whereas learning about media and who owned what and how media is manufactured- just made my brain freeze. and although I didn’t do my readings in philosophy (lmao)- i enjoyed a good bulk of the content I had and the issues it involved. doing media & journalism subjects in the m&cs degree, on the other hand, terrified me, bc it meant I had to get in front of a camera and speak- which also scared me bc i look & sound terrible on camera lmao 😂. but I didn’t have to do that almost throughout the entirety of my arts degree (im obvs not counting class presentations in this lol). but do you get my point???

and also the teaching comment. don’t get me wrong, i know a good bunch of people go into teaching after their arts degrees... including many of my friends; and a load of the people I was in my arts degree with. but that is mainly because with other degrees like journalism or media & comms or whatever other fields that they overload into uni arts departments- have taken our job titles away, in a sense....

so, then you’re practically forced to either go into teaching, or go into something outside of your expertise; like idek human resources management/a MBA via a masters.... or, again into something like librarianship via postgrad study- so, that for the love of fucking god- you have a job title to whack next to your name-!!!-instead of just “arts graduate” or “english major” or “philosopher” that all mean fuck all. and that’s because those labels sound vague, unhelpful, undefined and useless; as that’s opposed to something like “teacher” or “librarian” or even “information specialist”. all those titles/labels sound defined, and have actual useful concrete skills: like coding, database creation and maitenance & information retrieval (amongst other things), for a librarian/an information specialist, for example. these skills are then translated into something that you can physically demonstrate to people.... unlike with philosophy and english where people perceive that it’s just “all in your head” and “doesn’t produce anything worthwhile” bc of your very obvious skills that everyone has of communication and writing. like idk. anyway.

anyway here’s my rant for november.

[seventven]

Tony being your sugar daddy + a “boobs guy” would include:

pairing: tony x reader

warnings: oh no hide your children this is about women willingly using their bodies and benefitting from it

a/n: hello i’m back after 4 months having graduated high school and being a bigger tony slut than ever before

also this is the longest “would include” i have ever written but i’ve been getting requests for this for months and it took me forever to get around to writing so enjoy

i am a firm believer in that every person in this world is either an ass or a boobs person

and anthony stark is the latter

personally i am an advocate for women embracing their sexuality and being proud of their bodies and showing them off in whatever way they like

so like imagine

y/n is tony’s assistant

kinda like that whole situation with natasha in iron man 2

except ya know y/n is an actual assistant lmao

and she’d be v good at her job and within months she’d basically be running stark industries

lets pretend pepper doesn’t exist ok im still salty about her

and every couple of days or whatever tony would pop into the office and do a bit of paper work

like signing things or whatever i dont know what CEOs do

and he’s sitting behind the desk in his office, a bunch of papers in front of him

and he’s bored out of his mind bc this stuff is the woRST

and suddenly there’s a knock on the door

and y/n cautiously peaks her head out from behind the door to make sure she isn’t interrupting him

and when tony motions for her to come inside she steps in and shuts the door behind her

and she’s wearing a classic little black dress that reaches below her knees but which shows off a lot fair amount of her cleavage

and tony doesn’t notice at first

not until she’s standing opposite him

“i’ve more things for you to sign,” she’d say and bend over his desk to place the paper work in front of him

and that’s when tony’s eyes would register the sight in front of him

because from where he is sitting he gets the perfect view of her chest

unfortunately, this only lasts about two seconds before she straightens up, smiles at him and heads for the exit

and tony sorta just sits in his chair and stares at the door through which she had left

because holy fuck

so then after that tony would start calling her down to his office more often than necessary

and though this may seem sexist, the way he gawks at her and whatnot

it’s not like y/n doesn’t know what’s going on

and it’s not like she isn’t enjoying it

because soon enough she’d start wearing tops and dresses with even lower necklines

and bras that made her plump flesh want to explode out of her clothing

and both of them would love it

so tony would start making excuses in order to call her down

“i need you to tell me what you think of this new project”

“i need you to explain to me what this document is about”

“i need you to help me find a suitable date for this meeting”

but it wouldn’t just be tony

y/n would quickly start to find ways to make her way down to his office

“sorry for interrupting but have you signed the...”

“don’t mean to take up your time but do you know where that file went...”

and it would literally be never ending

and i feel like their relationship would start with one of them just not being to take any more of this god damn tension

and they’d probably fuck on his desk one time when y/n came down to ask if he had a pen on something equally stupid

and while he’s fucking her on the desk he’d probably be absolutely captivated by the view of her tits bouncing up and down

and he’d be so handsy with them

and he’d probably cover them with bite marks and hickeys

and it would be the hottest thing tbh

and then after that incident they’d get a whole lot more flirty at work

because now they both know they are into each other

and i dig the idea of tony opening up his email one morning when he gets to the office

and it’s from her

and he doesn’t think much about it, expecting it to be more boring paper work

but it’s actually a v explicit picture she had taken of herself the night before and it gives him a perfect view of her chest

and the caption is something that makes the blood rush to tony’s crotch in an instant

and he’s still staring at the picture ten minutes later when y/n and another employee walk into his office

and tony quickly logs out of his email

and the other employee gets him to sign something

and as they are leaving y/n turns back around and sends tony a cheeky wink

and within twenty minutes he is calling her down to his office and fucking her over the table again

and for a couple of months their relationship would consist of nothing other than intense sex every once in a while

of course, with the occasional going out for lunch together and talking in the office

and tony would notice that she’s a fan of victoria’s secret

so then y/n’s birthday would roll around

and the guy would go completely over the top

like imagine y/n getting to the office on her birthday morning

and no one else is there bc she had arrived early as usual

and she sets her stuff down and notices a square black box sitting on her desk

and it has a huge silk bow and looks really fucking expensive

so she looks around the office, wondering if it’s from one of her coworkers but there’s no one there

so she lifts the top of the box

and inside, sitting on a silk cushion is a victoria’s secret fantasy bra

and let me remind you that those things cost like at least a million dollars

but tony has the money

and if he has the money who’s gonna stop him

and y/n honestly cannot believe her eyes as they examine the bra

and she’s shocked by the amount of diamonds and other precious gems covering the surface

then, she notices a black card tucked into the space between the cushion and the wall of the box

and on it is a hand written note from tony

asking her to wear the bra tonight and be ready to be picked up at seven and telling her to take the day off

and as she’s making her way towards the exit of the building

the box clutched in her hands so tightly her knuckles are turning white

she runs into one of tony’s personal drivers who tells her he has been ordered to escort her to several places

and at first y/n is hesitant bc what the hell

the most she was hoping for that day was maybe a box of chocolates from one of her friends and a gift card to sephora

but here she was, clutching a two million dollar bra in her hands and being led to a sleek black vehicle by one of tony’s drivers

and the car would take her to a bunch of different places all of which would have already been paid for and ready for her arrival

because tony wanted to spoil her rotten on her birthday

the day would consist of her being driven to a spa, nail studios, and extravagant shops that mr tony stark had already paid hundreds and hundreds of dollars just for making her experience there pleasant

and by the end of the day y/n would be driven home and given some time to get ready for wherever tony was bringing her to

and obviously as asked she’d carefully put on the fantasy bra and one of the outfits she had purchased over it

and then the driver would return at exactly seven o’clock and bring her to the fucking port or something equally weird

and tony would just be chilling next to his own private yacht

and he’d take her hand and lead her onto it

and they’d probably be served dinner by some fancy ass chef he had hired just for this occasion

and y/n would be very confused by the whole day but also very thankful and by the end of dinner she’d mention the bra

bc she’d honestly feel guilty having received such an expensive present from him

but tony would just chuckle and stand up

and he’d bring his chair around the table and sit down next to her

and he’d probably lean in and kiss her bare shoulder

and then he’d hook his finger around the strap off her dress

and pull it down to reveal just a tiny bit of the bra she was wearing

and he’d whisper something like:

“it’s all yours. this, and anything else you might want. just say the word”

and idk about you but i’d be shuddering and squeezing my thighs together

bc holy shit sugar daddy tony makes me wanna sin

and they’d probably have sex again

this time in one of the luxurious bedrooms on the yacht

and in the morning tony would be missing from bed

but she’d be served breakfast in bed by one of the yacht keeping people i have no clue what they’re called

and after breakfast she’d get out of bed and find another three bags or so from victoria’s secret and chanel waiting for her on the chaise lounge

and she’d get dressed and go exploring

and find tony on the deck and they’d spend a lot of time drinking champagne and having sex

and then the trip would be over and she’d return home and go back to her life in the office

but every week she’d find different packages from tony

whether it was prada, chanel, or versace, tony would have more expensive gifts delivered to her apartment every couple of days

and with the gifts came along the great sex and getting the opportunity to attend different fancy functions and being tony’s “arm candy”

not that she’d mind

bc as she’d get used to the gifts, the vacations and the luxurious lifestyle

she’d also become a whole lot more comfortable with this sugar daddy slash sugar baby relationship

she’d be more than willing to get called various pet names during sex

and tony would live for the excitement on her face every time she’d open a new gift from him

and although the other female employees at stark industries would begin to despise her for the close relationship she had with their boss

neither y/n nor tony would be willing to end the arrangement

and then over time their feelings might become romantic

but until that time they’d both indulge in the non romantic relations they had

but once they’d start developing feelings for each other i feel like the transition from being in a sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship to an actual relationship would be very natural for them

firstly y/n would start staying the night at his place after sex instead of going home

in the office he’d start stealing innocent kisses when they’d pass each other in the hallway

and they’d start talking about serious aspects of their lives and just understand each other really well

and even after they’d officially get together, tony would still continue to spoil her

and i feel like at some point in the relationship tony would start to have doubts

bc lets be serious tony stark is too damn hard on himself

and because y/n is a lot younger than him he’d start to get a little paranoid

maybe it would begin with him noticing the way guys her age would stare at her longingly

or how the press didn’t think their relationship would last due to the age difference

but the feelings they’d have for each other would be as real as they get

and y/n would be more than willing to prove to tony how much she loves him

and at the end of the day it wouldn’t matter what way guys looked at her

or what the press had to say

or what the other employees at stark industries thought

the only thing that mattered was the fact that among the gifts and sparkly bags, the exotic vacations and expensive champagne, both of them found something they didn’t even realise they were searching for

[yeoldontknow]

Did You See?

Author’s Note: lord i am so glad someone requested Jongin fluff so i could make up for the torture that is Mourning Air. this is a gift for @kpopandlock and i hope hope hope i have done this justice. romance comes very hard for me unless theres chapters of tension and build up, so i hope this makes every Nini stan swoon just a tiny bit <3 enjoy loves!

Pairing: Kai x Reader

Summary: every day, you fall a little bit more in love with your best friend, Jongin. everyday, you ache for him. everyday, you miss all the signs of something he’s been trying to tell you.

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3,068

Nini[2:06 AM]: you up?

Y/N[2:08 AM]: yeah why

Nini[2:08 AM]: are you hungry?

Y/N[2:10 AM]: !!! diner run? :)

Nini[2:11 AM]: i have a better idea ;)

Y/N[2:12 AM]: better than 2AM waffles?? D:

Nini[2:13 AM]: promise to keep an open mind

Y/N[2:14 AM]: nini it’s too early...or late idk to be open minded~~

Nini[2:15 AM]: ok then be spontaneous

Y/N[2:16 AM]: what are you suggesting

Nini[2:18 AM]: cheesesteaks

Y/N[2:18 AM]: im not fucking cooking at 2 in the morning, are you high

Nini[2:20 AM]: nooo let’s go GET them i know an amazing food truck in philly

Y/N[2:21 AM]: are you driving?

Nini[2:21 AM]: as long as you DJ

Y/N[2:22 AM]: come pick me up~~ <3

Nini[2:23 AM]: that’s my girl! be there in 10

True to his word, Jongin arrives ten minutes later looking too put together for what you think is just a night drive. He stands in your doorway, bright smile making you feel like you’re ascending dawn, grey hoodie and running pants matching with a casual, attractive air of non-effort. You want to comment on this, tell him he's overdressed and making you tumble into a state of longing, but before you can speak, he leans over to kiss your cheek and whisper in your ear. 

‘We’re taking the scenic route.’

This is nothing new for him. He's said these same words to you hundreds of times on different occasions, sometimes even in metaphor, but tonight it feels different. Tonight, his breath hovers over your ear a little too long and it takes all your willpower not to press your cheek to his. You know you're alone in this sentiment, know that these feelings are one sided and must remain this way for the benefit of your friendship. But still, tonight, these words make you want him more. 

The highway is empty as you drive, chasing the moon and stars with your headlights. You watch him, studying the way he seems to glow in the night, and think he never really looks as relaxed or as serene as when he's driving. With one hand on the wheel and the other out the window, fingers dancing in the cool night air, his face is placid and happy, eyes bright and filled with hidden laughter as he drives. This is when you really see him, truly see all the vulnerable parts of him, when he's pensive and assumes no one is looking; when he's alone with you. 

Mirroring his position, you stick your arm out the window and find yourself falling into the moment, collapsing into it. You've never felt closer to him than right now, driving on the interstate for a spontaneous cheesesteak run. You've never felt more alive than in this moment, as the state Pennsylvania sign passes you by. Beside you trees and trees and trees pass along the river bank, and you're glad he chose this route. You're glad he wanted the extra time with you and no one else, not even other strangers on this secluded road. You're glad that he wants you, even if it's only like this.

Eventually, you fall asleep - not a truly deep sleep, just dozing softly, hand still catching the wind as your head lulls to the side with parted lips.

You are asleep and so you don't see it. You don't see the way he turns to look at you, your skin shimmering as the first glimmers of the sun start to pour over your face. You don't see the way he smiles, admiration of you beginning to eat away at and melt through him. You don't see him reach for your hand as it rests on your thigh with loose fingers, and the way he pauses just over the palm. He ghosts over it, molding his hand above it as though he were miming the hold, before pulling it back to the gear shift. You don't see him clutch at it, holding it and pretending it is your skin.

You don't see him tumbling with you.

Nini[1:33 PM]: you going to jongdae’s thing tonight?

Y/N[1:35 PM]: idk maybe. i have to see if i feel up for it

Nini[1:37 PM]: pllssss!! youre never really up for these things and i need you with me tonight

Y/N[1:40 PM]: why tonight of all nights? lmao youve gone to so many parties without me

Nini[1:41 PM]: because tonight i just don’t want to be without you :)

Y/N[1:42 PM]: this is not a reason

Nini[1:43 PM]: excuse me, it’s the only reason that matters

Y/N[1:44 PM]: you know i get shy at parties

Nini[1:46 PM]: jongdae and i will be there

Y/N[1:48 PM]: and if it were just you two it would be ok - it wouldnt even be a party~~ it's other people nini :/

Nini[1:50 PM]: i’ll be with you the whole night i promise :))

Y/N[1:52 PM]: youre not going to take no for answer are you :c

Nini[1:52 PM]: nope :D

Y/N[1:56 PM]: fine. ill meet you there ugh

Nini[1:58 PM]: thank you duchess! i'll make it up to you! <3

Y/N[1:58 PM]: you better

Jongin finds you the minute you enter the crowded house, his hand seeking yours and threading your fingers together as you push through the door. You know he’s already drunk, though you don’t know how long he’s been here. Like usual, his body is craving contact after only a few drinks of alcohol. Typically, he keeps you close by so he can touch your skin and soothe his bleary ache for affection, never allowing you to wander too far out of reach. Always this is born out of trust, you think. He knows and trusts you enough to take these things from you, expects them to be freely given because the language of your relationship dictates it. 

Always, he does this and doesn't see the way hope brims over and leaks from your pores. Always, he doesn't see you swoon.

‘I'm glad you came!’ Jongdae shouts over the music as he hands you a drink. ‘You literally never come to my parties. This is such a nice surprise.’

‘This one persuaded me,’ you concede, tilting your head in Jongin’s direction. He’s distracted, eyes scanning the room with a wide smile offered to everyone but you. Seeing this makes your heart sink a little, knowing that, at some point, even if he doesn't mean to, his promise to you will be broken. 

It only takes an hour.

After leading you around the room, squeezing your hand as you talk through your shyness with others and whispering that he's proud of you, he leaves your side at the first notes of his favourite song. For a few minutes, you watch him dance and sing, jumping and moving with an ease that makes you envious. When he laughs, his mouth becomes a glorious circle, head cocking back as though he can't contain the force of his joy. When he sings along, his eyes close in sheer delight at being young and being alive. 

You find this all too beautiful and too heartbreaking to look at. It only makes you want him more.

So you turn and go out to the yard, hoisting yourself into the fence rungs to sit and drink, taking small sips of whatever is in your cup so you don’t get drunk. It's quiet here, perfect for thinking and longing and wishing on all the stars you can count.

Your back is to the door, so you don't see it. You don't see the way Jongin searches for you the moment the song ends, biting his lips and furrowing his brow in worry. You don't see the way he smiles, awed and moved by the way you hum to yourself as you stargaze. You don't see him lean against the door, eyes turning up to the same star and filled with hopeful wonder. 

You don't see him wish that you were his.

Y/N[6:33 PM]: come over

Nini[6:35 PM]: mmmmm why? movie night?

Y/N[6:36 PM]: if you want. im making your fave tho, so i thought id ask

Nini[6:37 PM]: CHICKEN????

Y/N[6:40 PM]: lmao yes and if youre a good boy ill even let you help me cook

Nini[6:41 PM]: excuse you i am always a good boy

Y/N[6:43 PM]: you abandoned me at the party last weekend. that was very naughty ;(

Nini[6:45 PM]: i told you i was sorry :( and i didnt really abandon you. dont say that :(((

Y/N[6:46 PM]: THAT WAS HOW IT FELT NINIKINS

Nini[6:48 PM]: im so confused like youre upset with me but youre using my nickname and i ?????

Y/N[6:49 PM]: i was upset but im not anymore its ok bb. are you coming?

Nini[6:50 PM]: yeah be there in 15?

Y/N[6:52 PM]: ok. bring wine please

Nini{6:52 PM]: you got it duchess <3

You leave the door unlocked for him, an open invitation to your home, your heart, your life. When he arrives, he’s carrying your favourite red wine and a small chocolate cake he acquired from a bakery along the way.

‘I want to feel like I’m contributing,’ he murmurs with a bashful smile. 

‘Aww,’ you coo, taking the cake from him and tapping his cheek. ‘I would have let you cut some broccoli but this is much better.’ 

He lingers behind you for a while, watching the way you cut and stir and manage time in your kitchen. It bewilders him, a little bit, the science of cooking becoming something of an art beyond his comprehension. This is the one thing you can hold above him, the one skill you have that he doesn’t, and you are too proud to admit that you sometimes use this to be close to him. Tonight is an example, how you decided to make chicken only because he said he would come over. How you decided to even consider it because he would be here and near you and doing exactly this: pressing himself behind you to watch and share your air.

After several minutes he moves away from you, pulling out his phone and scrolling through it with a content, placid expression.

‘Where’s that speaker I got you for your birthday?’

‘In the bathroom by the sink.’

He disappears and comes back seconds later, holding the black rectangle in his hand as he syncs it with his phone.

‘We’re going to listen to some music and you’re going to relax.’

You scoff, flipping chicken in the skillet. ‘I don’t need relaxing.’ 

‘Yes, you do,’ he says firmly. ‘Even the way you said that was tense.’

Setting the spatula on the counter, you turn to face him with a cocked eyebrow. ‘Now who’s the tense one?’

He doesn’t bother to respond to this. Instead, he hits play and soft soul music starts to play from the speaker. Sighing, you turn back to the stove and attempt to make yourself look busy. This was done on purpose. He knows that soul music feels like it belongs to you in some way, like you’ve claimed it as the sound of your blood.

What he doesn’t know is that the sight of him dancing to Otis Redding will hurt you, hurt you in a way that would make your heart feel as though it were bleeding. He doesn’t know that the sight of his hips swaying to the rhythm would make your breath catch, pausing at the sight to admire and memorize it before continuing with a quickened pace. He doesn’t and cannot know these things, so you keep your back to him in order to protect yourself. Because now, you think, you cannot possibly want him more.

Your back is to him, so you don’t see it. You don’t see the way he approaches you, eyes hungry and arms outstretched to hold you in the them. You don’t see the way he reaches for you, hands coming to rest atop your hips like he’s claiming you the way you’ve claimed the music. When he starts dancing with you, moving your body with his as he presses himself tightly against you, you don’t see the way his lips part to exhale against your hair. You don’t see the way his mouth hovers above your ear for too long, tongue desperate to lick against the lobe. You don’t see the way his eyes roll back in his head as you push against him, lightly, teasingly, and the way his fingers twitch to run themselves beneath the band of your shorts. The way they yearn to sneak beneath the band of your underwear to press, and touch, and stroke.

You don’t see the way he finally, truly, believes he is losing control. 

Nini[1:40 AM]: are you up?

Y/N[1:43 AM]: yeah why - MORE CHEESESTEAKS?

Nini[1:44 AM]: can i come over?

Y/N[1:44 AM]: are you ok?

Nini[1:45 AM]: i need to see you

Y/N sent a photo

Y/N[1:46 AM]: see! it’s me!

Nini[1:46 AM]: no. i need you see you. please.

Y/N[1:47 AM]: jongin youre scaring me. whats going on?

Nini[1:48 AM]: please say yes. just say i can see you. i just need you.

Y/N[1:49 AM]: yes babe yes the door is unlocked

Nini[1:50 AM]: on my way 

Five years. You’ve known Jongin for five years. 

Four years. You’ve loved Jongin for four years.

Never have you seen him look like this. For years you’ve watched him stumble into and out of love with anguish, grace, and pride, and still he’s never looked like this. 

He’s in your doorway and he looks like he’s gasping, swallowing whole mouthfuls of the air to catch his breath and to catch your scent. Hair has fallen into his eyes, his wide eyes that look at you as though they’ve reached their limit or found something - they’re fixed on you so completely you’re starting to feel naked beneath the gaze. There’s suffering happening beneath his skin. He’s fraught and fighting with something and you’re scared, you’re scared because you feel he brought the air of change with him and it’s making you vulnerable and uncomfortable.

He rushes into your house but doesn’t sit. His feet carry him in nondescript patterns around your living room, pacing in an almost frantic way.

‘Jongin,’ you whisper loudly, trying not to startle him out of his panic. ‘Jongin, what is going on?’ 

‘I reach for you,’ he blurts out, turning to look at you as though he’s had an epiphany. ‘I reach for you all the time and you never see it.’

Your brain muddles over these words, toys with them and breaks them apart to try to understand them but comes up empty and confused. 

‘You reach for me?’ you ask, breathless though you don’t know why. Something is happening, and your body is in on it first, making you lose faith and trust in the air and yourself. 

‘I reach for you,’ he repeats. ‘Something happens in my day, and I reach for my phone to tell you. I crave food at two in the morning, and I reach for you to come with me. I watch you cook, and I want to touch you, so I reach for you but you don’t see me. I am always reaching for you, and I need you to see me.’ 

The words rush out of his mouth like they’ve been waiting to be released for years, like he’s practiced them hundreds of times and now that he’s finally saying them he can’t wait to get them out. 

You’re facing him, and now you see it. You see the way his hands reach out to you as he approaches you, coming to cup your face gently and cradle it as though it were treasure. You see the way his eyes bore into yours, filled with love and lust and longing. You see the way he is breaking, shattering beneath his desire and how his breath is coming too quickly to really keep him alive. You see the way the world is spinning but you both are still in this moment, learning to reach for one another.

‘Do you see?’ he asks, softly with a trembling lip. ‘Do you see why I needed to be here? To hold you?’

You close your eyes and nod.

‘Don’t do that,’ he whispers.

You open your eyes and make to speak, but his thumb softly swipes over your bottom lip and tugs it gently down to luxuriate in its plumpness.

‘Don’t close your eyes,’ he clarifies. ‘ I want you to see.’ 

Eyes open wide, you watch as he lifts your chin upwards and presses his forehead against yours, taking the moment to breathe together. You watch as he slides just out of view and presses your lips together, your body suddenly warm with the contact and wetness pooling between your thighs. Keeping your eyes open, you let him kiss you, gently and full of purpose with a warm mouth and a soft tongue. Your eyes roll back just slightly as your hands fist in his hair, tongue pressing against his in time with your hips. His hands slide down your back to fist in the hem of your shirt, pulling it up as he moans, loudly and without shame, as his fingers touch your hot skin, and you see.

You see how you both took the scenic route to get here, to this moment. You see how having him in your arms makes the world brighter. You see how kissing him like this makes the world move slower.

You see how badly you need him. You finally see how deeply he loves you. 

[scottymccalled]

Let’s start it off with the one and only, the canon pairing of a sad sk8er boi and his tiny baker: Jack Zimmerman/Eric “Bitty” Bittle!

Ice Crew Please!

THE FIC THAT CHANGED E V E R Y T H I N G u don’t even KNOW oh my god

u read this and u r like: “ice crew au…?? wut” but U GUYS. READ IT.

I AM. BEGGING U. its so fucking funny but also so fucking meaningful and abt CREATING A Fa mILY !!!! and LoVe!!!! and frieNDShIP!!!

p.s i don’t want to spoil it but if u read it message me and ill talk to u abt the part that made me cry like actual tears bc thank god for friendships and acknowledging that shit is hard

the messes of men

this was… in it’s own way.. a hard fic to read (which makes it the best fic to read! pain! i love it! help me!) it’s very very very beautifully written and i hold it very close to my heart….how it portrays jack by himself and how hard it must’ve been…it also manages to weave in how mental illness plays its own role, even once you get together with the person you’re pretty sure is it for you. somewhat painful but cathartic and achingly tender.

until it got the best of you

umm bitty has a big dick. that’s it.

BUT then there’s feelings! and angst! and misunderstanding! (the best type too! u know when one is like so crazily in love with the other and thinks its shockingly obvious but surprise, it’s not!) it’s just fantastic!

i never saw the signs

imagine a world where jack jumping over the snowbank, bringing bitty coffee, going on long walks classifies (in jack’s mind) as dating. so when bitty gets asked out, jack cannot believe the b e t r ay a l! we’re dating bitty! just read this and be happy :)

left the city, my family, my precinct

oh my goodness this fic.

jack accidentally sends bittle a dick pick.

:0  ;)  <3 ___ <3 = summary of the fic

mixing it up

this is just….so cute?!??!?! and funny?!??! and 1!!!!!

bitty is contestant at a baking tournament for the falconers where jack and tater are the judges. at least, thats where it starts off.

tater is fucking hILARIOUS this fic in general made me laugh a lot.

strawberry

if u about that dom/sub life well…….just know that eric pins jacks hands to the bed and there’s v intense blushing that boi turns red like a tomato and i live 4 it.

eric is a tad too southern for me but it’s the only thing this fic doesn’t do perfectly :))))

something like this

considering how popular this fic is it actually sat open in a tab for a looong loooooong time just bc…well… it’s 285,748 words. im an all or nothing girl as in i once read the entire maze runner trilogy in one night so i had to find the right time

first of all: angst. second of all: angst. third of all: ….. u guessed it… angst. BUT don’t worry, for every drop of angst there’s a metro-fucking-ton of smut and sweetness :)))) ;))) what this fic does brilliantly is create an OMC that is at the forefront of the story and do it seamlessly. this is a pretty iconic fic and tbh im definitely not one for fics longer than 100k but this was a fuckin’ beaut man

rake the springtime across your sheets

oh god this was P A I N F U L but in a very beautiful way??? (that’s how u know the writing was siCK) ambiguously happy ending but tbh in the end this fic is really just abt the unspoken quiet truth of being in love, of loving, of being human just lke Fffffffuck me up

Phone, Please!

listen. i’m not a fluff person. idk i get bored. BUT. BUUUUUT. BUT. this fic.

AMAZING. this fic is all about the details and the little moments that make Bitty and Jack  ~*BittyandJack*~

Bonus favorite line: “Thank god there are pancakes to serve. Pancakes are also very nice, and something he can actually have.”

Winter Clothes

Chowder POV so this is both hiLARIOUS and surprisingly touching. Jack and Bitty help Chowder buy clothes for New England winter. As a person living in New England, I approve this message.

WIPS: *Hate That I Love You plays in the background*

medic, please!

so if u ever played world of warcraft u r gonna love it and if you’ve never played world of warcraft u r gonna love it

this fic is just SO CREATIVE?!?!! like the format of it is B O M B. its just. so good. oh ym god.

(also the name is “medic please!” get it? cuz eric’s a medic in the game.? and check..PLEASE! ugh I’m a nerd 4 this pic

Fainting Psychics and Pessimistic Demonologists

ghostbusters au except not bc copyright

at first i was like…ghost hunters au?? rlly? but now I’m like GHOST HUNTERS AU? B R I L L I A N T.

characters are on point, its funny (an actual line of the fic “Jack sat down at his computer, pulled open a tab, and googled “How to encourage a teammate”. lmao what a mess)

but also theres some mystery and intrigue and suspense and in general this is a Good.

baking is punk as fuck

this is another AU that i was like…punk band u ….rlly? but then i was like PUNK BAND AU FUCK YEAH im a sucker for asshole Jack. i’m not even into punk?? but im into this fic U ___ U

This Don’t Even Feel Like Falling

filed under “praise kink mmmm”

honestly? porn..? “Bitty is the one to tie Jack’s hands for Hazeapalooza; afterward, he ties Jack’s hands for their own private enjoyment. “ like?? I’m not sorry.

but also not established relationship more like fwb but u know and i know and ngozi knows that ain’t the game we’re playing here

around the green and blue

not usually a big fan of soulmate aus but what i love about this fic is the pacing and even tho soulmate aus where seeing your soulmate = seeing color for the first time isn’t totally new this felt super fresh and original!

shine for you

aw MAN this gave me the feeeeeels. established relationship but jack is not out, it’s a bit angsty but the jack perspective is just so gooood

EXTRA: It all started with a big Russian hockey player calling a small cat-loving hockey player a rat. You either h8 it or u luv it. In my case, I Love it, capital L, so enjoy: Alexei “Tater” Mashkov/Kent Parson

careful the tale you tell

Kent has been telling himself a story, ever since the Q. It’s the epic story of Parse and Zimms, and he’s in love with it. // this fic is specifically meant for patater newbies and this fic does an amazing job of showing why kent and alexei just make sense. its honestly a Blessing.

kick on the starter

lmao im gonna be 90 years old and still reccing Febricant’s fics…for real when i saw they wrote patater i was like…no..im dreaMing…or im dead? is . is heaven?? rlly unique approach to how she gets them together and gr8 build up :)))) Bless Febricant

i need to wake up, i need me some love…

honestly? shameless fluff. established relationship (they’re ENGAGED FOR GOD’S SAKE) short but Good

[kookingtae]

You have to make a huge post and tell us all the dreams I wanna hear 👀

omg so ive been putting this off for forever bc iTS SO MUCH but i think ive finally got enough time to sit down and type it all out (this is really long so if you want to read some of them, theyre below the ‘keep reading’)

the very first dream i ever had about bts was about jungkook big shocker there except it was long long ago in a galaxy far far away when i biased tae! it was me and jungkook making out on my bed, like full on making out with tongue and teeth and heavy breathing and everything (fUCK im getting flustered just thinking about it) and then all of a sudden he sat up and whipped his dick out! it was vivid af too so when i woke up i felt like i had really seen his dick. then he got back on top of me and we were about to fuck but mY FUCKING MOM WALKED IN!!!!!!!!!!! SHE COCK BLOCKED EVEN IN MY DREAMS WTF i was so mad at her when i woke up

my second dream (i pretty sure it happened while i was still biasing tae as well) took place in this olden day village on a cobblestone street, i dont remember the story behind it but all i remember is jungkook whipped out his dick aGAIN AND THAT SHIT WAS FUCKING HUGE!!!!!! like abnormally long LMAO i was like O.O and he just kept on stroking it and jacking off and i was like jUNGKOOK WE’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD and then i woke up 😂

after that i lost track of the order they happened but i’ll just list them out (btw i know ive had more than this but these are just the ones that are most memorable)

one of the ones that had the biggest impact on me happened the christmas of 2015, and still remember it so clearly bc it was the dream that made yoongi wreck my bias list for the very first time. before then he had been like 4th? 5th? but this made him move all the way up to 2nd O.O

it started out as he and i were dating and i had just finished listening to a song he released where he SANG INSTEAD OF RAPPED!!!! AND IT WAS ABOUT ME. it was such a big deal bc that had never happened before and i was literally crying???? after i listened to it i was super emo and just wanted to see him and love on him and tell him how lucky i was to have him in my life. but when he called to say that he was outside my house to pick me up, i went out there all happy and excited and opened the passengers side door to see hoseok -_- i was annoyed to say the least. here i was on the verge of tears and wanting to spend time with him, and he brought a car full of ppl to accompany us on our date.

i proceeded to squeeze in the small backseat next to an already squished jin, namjoon and jimin. and to make things worse, yoongi was basically ignoring me the entire time to goof off with his friends. i hadnt even gotten a chance to tell him i’d listened to the song he’d just released bc he wouldnt give me the time of day. plus, the topic was too emotional to bring up around his friends. so as we went out to eat and squeezed into that tiny ass booth, yOONGI NOT EVEN SITTING NEXT TO ME, i got the bright idea to make him jealous. maybe then he’d finally notice me.

i did some subtle things at dinner, but nothing too serious until we got back to yoongi’s bedroom and everyone started drinking. i wasnt drunk, but jimin was so he was an easy target for my scheme. at one point he and i were laying down on yoongi’s bed, my back against him and curled into his embrace with his arm slung over my waist and lips lightly pressed to my neck. thats when yoongi saw us and snapped. he kicked everyone out, “that means you, dongsaeng. get your hands off of jordan” he even hissed at jimin and gritted his teeth. “ok, jeez,” jimin had said defensively, to which yoongi replied “thats hyung to you.” needless to say, he was pissed.

once jimin got off of me and i started to get up, yoongi turned to me and said “not you” in a less angry but just as stern voice. i remember being filled with rage, like “oh, so now you notice me?!” yoongi acted confused at first, but once he realized what i was talking about his expression softened and he seemed to feel bad. he silently pulled me into a hug and we laid down on his bed, both sad and feeling guilty at the turn of events. then the dream ended with us both cuddling in his bed, his cheeks between my hands and my waist in his arms, where i told him i’d listened to his song about me and we were both crying and saying how much we love each other and kissing sweetly.

after that, i had aNOTHER yoongi dream in the same night where i had the job of cleaning a dormitory that yoongi lived in. so he was basically my boss, but not really bc he wasnt the one who signed my checks. i still had to respect him tho. the thing was, i didnt speak korean very well (yes, it was a language barrier dream!!) and so he had to teach me some of the words and customs of their culture. a lot of the things i was doing were considered rude, so we didnt like each other at first bc he thought i was bratty and i thought he was an asshole. we fought all the time, eSPECIALLY after he made me call him oppa. i didnt want to show him that kind of respect.

but after a while we ended up bonding the more time we spent together (i was there everyday doing housework after all) and i developed a crush on him. it was unspoken but both of us liked each other, and at one point i confronted our feelings bc it was getting frustrating always having to walk on eggshells around each other and pretend like there was nothing between us. i wanted to be together, and yoongi did too, but then he told me that we couldnt bc he was in bts (which hadnt been brought up the entire dream until now lmao) so basically, it had a sad ending :”)

needless to say, after i woke up that christmas morning i was fucked up.

another one of my favorites was one with tae that i actually wanted to write a fic about when it happened!

i worked at this prestigious company of some sort, and i was in my high-rise building office and had a perfect view of my car in the parking lot below. at one point i was looking out the window and saw tae (who i didnt know at the time) in this black leather jacket breaking into the cars one by one and stealing all the belongings. he was going thru them in order and getting closer to my car, so i panicked and quickly ran down there to stop him.

i reached him rIGHT when he was rummaging thru mine, and i forget the exact dialogue but i remember bickering with him and we were both assholes to each other bc i was mad he was stealing my shit and he was annoyed that i had interrupted him. he told me he was taking everything to a pawn shop, and i managed to talk him out of cashing in all my stuff except for one ring that a family member had given me. he seemed shocked to see that i had it and told me that he had to take it to his boss right away. i was all liKE HELL YOU ARE so i jumped in his old beat up pickup truck with him and rode with him to go turn in it.

it was a long drive and along the way we started talking and figured out there was some sexual tension there beneath all that hatred and next thing i know, im practically on his lap while hes driving sucking a hickey into his neck. and then fucked in his car O.O needless to say, we hit it off.

he ended up parking at the pawn shop where he planned on cashing in all the other items, and for some reason there was a photo booth outdoors in the middle of parking lot on a median???? regardless we went inside of it and tae wanted to fuck. i was super reluctant about it bc i was like tAE ITS OUTSIDE SOMEONE COULD SEE OR HEAR US and he was like “so? live on the wild side a little” like the bAD BOY HE IS (my weakness is bad boy tae ok) and then we ending up fucking in the outdoor photo booth and i woke up!

another one was where i was on this pirate ship trapped as prisoner trying to escape, and i got the help of jin who i think was one of the pirates or something?? idk but i was super skeptical to trust him at first but then we started making out (it escalated really quickly lol) and i remember the feeling of his lips were sO PLUSH. after that im pretty sure i trusted him and he treated me like his girlfriend that he cared about and would keep on kissing me and eventually helped me escape!!

i planned on telling a lot more dreams than this but i dont have as much time as i thought lol :/ most of them are about jungkook tho, and ive had more soft, fluffy dreams about him than i can count on all my fingers and toes. language barrier ones, shy!jungkook ones, boyfriend ones - you name it, ive dreamt it.

my most recent one took place at a water park, and all of bts and my friend and i went on a day trip there. jungkook and i ended up breaking away from the rest of the group and were just being cute and doing our own thing. we would float in the wave pool a lot with my legs wound around his waist and my arms around his neck, and his arms around my lower back holding me against him, and we would kiss and laugh and do a bunch of cute relationship things 😭😭😭 IM GETTING EMO JUST THINKING ABOUT IT

but the majority of my dreams have been romance-based and made me curl up into a ball of sorrow when i woke up bc i know they’ll never be real :”)

[lonelysetter-blog1]

Oikawa-senpai (One-shot)

Oikawa discovers that the other captains have their own Karasuno first-years that they’ve adopted as their kouhai, and he wants to have one, as well. His quest for a cute crow kouhai commences. 

Word Count: 2k (Phone users, I’m sorry)

~Elle

Group Chat Name: Volleydads

Sawamura Daichi: Remind me why we picked that name again? Kurohohoho: we’ve all been told that we act parent-like, so it’s only fitting sawamura Kurohohoho: well, except for bokuto Bokutohoho: EXCUSE YOU Kurohohoho: bro has anyone ever told you that you act like a dad Bokutohoho: …no Kurohohoho: dw bro you’re still a role model to your kouhai Bokutohoho: HAHA YEAH I AM Kurohohoho: speaking of kouhai how are ours over at karasuno sawamura Sawamura Daichi: Loud. Sawamura Daichi: And they’re not your kouhai. Kurohohoho: wow overprotective dad much Sawamura Daichi: Shut up. Kurohohoho: :0 Bokutohoho: :0 Oikalicious: yaho~ what’s this about kouhais (^・ω・^ ) Sawamura Daichi: Kuroo-san and Bokuto-san have stolen my kouhais’ admiration from me. Bokutohoho: LMAO Kurohohoho: rip dadchi Kurohohoho: that was a typo but its the best typo i’ve ever made Oikalicious: wait so you all have karasuno kouhais ఠ_ఠ Bokutohoho:  YUP AND THEY LOVE US Kurohohoho: bokuto’s loves him, idk about mine Kurohohoho: but we did adopt them as our kouhai Bokutohoho: AND MINE LOVES ME MORE THAN SAWAMURA Sawamura Daichi: I will FIGHT you. Kurohohoho: uh oh dadchi’s using caps lock Oikalicious: i feel left out i want a cute karasuno kouhai ಠ╭╮ಠ Kurohohoho: lmao rip  Bokutohoho: STAY AWAY FROM OUR KIDS Sawamura Daichi: Shouldn’t I be the one to say that line? Kurohohoho: omg you dads Bokutohoho: IM FINALLY A FATHER Oikalicious: that’s no fair i want one (´Д｀。)

Oikawa sighed and put his phone away in his pocket. He pouted to himself as he changed out of his training uniform, gathered his things, left the locker room, and met up with Iwaizumi at the gym’s exit door.

The pair began to leave the school campus. The sky was already tinted with warm hues that can only be produced by sunsets. They could have left sooner if Oikawa had not been on his phone for so long. However, Oikawa was still silent, which was concerning. Iwaizumi turned to see his friend pouting.

“What’s up? Why’re you pouting?” Iwaizumi raised his eyebrows at him.

“Iwa-chan~, I want a cute Karasuno kouhai,” Oikawa whined.

The ace furrowed his eyebrows even more.

“I was talking to the captains in other schools, and they told me how they all have kouhai in Karasuno,” Oikawa explained.

“Don’t you have Kageyama, though?” Iwaizumi countered.

Oikawa’s face twisted in disgust, “Tobio-chan isn’t cute.”

“You’re not cute, Kusokawa,” Iwaizumi muttered to himself.

Oikawa didn’t reply. He only pondered of ways he can possibly recruit one of the younger Karasuno players. Iwaizumi wondered what Oikawa could possibly be thinking about, and if he would have to prevent Oikawa from doing something that could perhaps be considered a felony.

As the pair reached Oikawa’s house, they began to say goodbye to each other and separate.

“Ah, wait! Iwa-chan!” Oikawa called for his friend.

Iwaizumi turned around, “Yeah?”

“I’m not gonna be home until later in the afternoon tomorrow,” Oikawa responded.

Iwaizumi raised his eyebrows, “What are you planning to do?”

Oikawa winked, smiled cheekily, and stuck his tongue out, “Nothing you should be concerned about, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi only felt dread, “You better not get in trouble, Kusokawa. I don’t feel like getting in trouble with Karasuno’s captain.”

Oikawa made himself appear confused, “Why would you assume I’m going to Karasuno?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Kusokawa. You’re easy for me to read,” Iwaizumi scowled. “Bye.”

Oikawa widened his eyes, but smiled to himself afterwards. He should’ve known Iwaizumi wouldn’t see past him.

The next day was a day off for all Aoba Johsai students, and there was no practice for the school’s volleyball club, either. Oikawa was going to spend his free day observing the Karasuno volleyball team. He stood outside the school building, but had no idea where the team practices. Perhaps he didn’t think this plan out very well.

Oikawa spotted a girl that was walking towards the building, and decided that she might not become very suspicious of him.

“Excuse me?” Oikawa called for her.

The girl lifted her head, and her eyes widened.

“Sorry, but could a lovely lady such as yourself direct me to where the volleyball team practices?” Oikawa spoke with a smooth voice and gave her a charming smile. The girl began to blush intensely, and adjust the ribbons in her red hair. She was baited.

“O-oh, um…they practice in the second gym…I think,” she stuttered.

“Ah, I don’t know where that is, I’m afraid. Can you take me there? I’m new here, so I still get lost,” Oikawa smiled sheepishly and put his hand on the back of his head.

“Of course!” The girl responded, perhaps a bit too eagerly.

“Thank you. You’re very kind,” Oikawa gave her another one of his plastic, yet charming smiles.

He was escorted to the gym by the tiny, blushing girl. After waving goodbye and expressing his gratitude again, he began to look through the window of the gym. He found them.

The team was playing a 6 on 6 against each other. Oikawa watched intently as the players used the same tricks they used against them in their Spring High match. The setter couldn’t help but scowl. He had to remind himself that he came here on a different mission without malicious intentions.

“Oikawa-san?”

Oikawa stiffened, and turned to his left to see Sawamura standing at the entrance to the gym. Oikawa gave an actual sheepish smile, “Oh… Hi, Sawamura-kun.”

“Just come in. Your legs are going to get tired,” Sawamura sighed.

Oikawa gave his thanks and walked inside. Some of the players turned to see him, and they wore astonished looks on their faces. The small redhead had the most hilarious reaction to him, letting out what sounded like a squawk and slightly trembling.

“Yaho~, Chibi-chan,” Oikawa grinned at him. The small boy only looked at him incredulously and put his hands up. The setter was surprised. He didn’t think he was that intimidating.

“Relax, I’m just here to talk to you,” Oikawa laughed a bit. The redhead calmed himself down a bit.

“You’re an impressive player, you know,” Oikawa gave him a genuine compliment. He always found the tiny middle blocker interesting and fun to watch, and he has wondered what tossing to him would be like.

The boy stood speechless with his mouth agape. What a meaningful conversation!

Oikawa tried again, “I’d really like to set for you one day, if you’re interested.”

The boy suddenly stood up straight, “I-I’m sorry, Daiou-sama… I already have a senpai and he’d grow depressed if I were to leave him.”

“Seriously? Who?” Oikawa furrowed his eyebrows.

“Bokuto Koutarou, the ace from Fukurodani. He’s so cool! He’s one of the top five spikers in all of Japan!” The redhead exclaimed. Oikawa was now the one to have an incredulous look on his face. He hopes Bokuto won’t find out about this encounter.

“Ah, I see. My apologies, Chibi-chan,” Oikawa smiled.

The redhead waved his hands and tried to tell him that he didn’t need to do so. Oikawa stiffened a bit when he turned to see the grey haired setter glaring at him. He felt chills going down his spine. Who knew Mr. Refreshing could be so scary…

Oikawa turned to see the tall, blond middle blocker looking at him. When the boy met eyes with the setter, he quickly looked away. He wasn’t the type of kouhai he had in mind, but he decided to try anyway.

“Now, now. There’s no need to be shy,” Oikawa walked up to him and smiled. This boy was taller than him, which pissed him off a bit.

“Excuse me, Oikawa-san, but I wasn’t trying to get your attention,” the blond responded with a blank face.

“Hm, I’d like to talk to you, though. You’re a pretty good blocker. I saw you block Ushiwaka,” Oikawa noted.

“Ah, thanks. I was training with a captain in another school. He’s a middle blocker, like me,” the blond replied.

“You have a senpai, too?” Oikawa was surprised.

“Hm? Yes, his name is Kuroo Tetsurou. He’s from Nekoma.”

The blond continued to talk, “Oikawa-san, I know you don’t want me as your kouhai. Frankly, the feeling is mutual. Even if you did, I already have enough senpais that drive me mad. Please stop trying to flatter me.”

Oikawa scowled, “You’re not cute at all.”

The blond middle blocker smiled and put his hand behind his back, “Thank you.”

Oikawa let out a “tch”, and met eyes with Kageyama. The first year setter was staring at him with a puzzled expression.

“I’m not interested in you Tobio-chan,” Oikawa glared at him.

Kageyama blinked, “Ok.”

“So don’t even think that I am, or ever will be.”

“Ok.”

“Yeah, you’ll never receive any of my help ever again. I’m not your senpai anymore. I want to crush you next time we play, whenever that may be,” Oikawa grinned evilly at him.

Kageyama blinked again, still unfazed, “Ok.”

Oikawa sighed and went up to the Karasuno captain, who was talking to Mr. Refreshing.

“Excuse me? Heh…Sorry, Sawamura-kun,” Oikawa smiled sheepishly.

“No problem, Oikawa-san. These kids are quite difficult, anyway,” Sawamura smiled and slapped Oikawa’s arm. Meanwhile, Mr. Refreshing was wearing a terribly frightening smile on his face.

“Don’t you dare harass my kids ever again,” the grey haired setter spoke in a low tone, chilling Oikawa down to the bone. The Karasuno captain and his vice, he learned, were not to be messed with.

Oikawa gave up, and walked solemnly to the stairs at the entrance of the gym. He sat down, and stared off into space. He was looking forward to have a cute Karasuno kouhai. Despite their teams’ differences, he thought he could take one under his wing and teach him some skills. He didn’t really have any kouhai that he was close enough to in Aoba Johsai, and he’s never had any in Kitagawa Dai-ichi. He was jealous of the other captains for having kouhais like the ones he’s desired to have. Well, he wasn’t jealous of Kuroo…

The setter pulled out his phone and was ready to text Iwaizumi that he’s coming home when he heard a voice behind him.

“Um, excuse me?” A boy with brown hair and freckles half-mumbled, looking very nervous.

“Oh, sorry,” Oikawa quickly moved over in order to let the boy through. Oikawa didn’t recognize him, so he assumed he wasn’t a starter for the team.

“Excuse me! Are you a first year?” Oikawa called for the boy, who turned around to face him.

“Oh, um…yeah,” The boy nodded.

Oikawa recalled the Spring High tournament, and the nervous Karasuno pinch server that finally got the hang of his jump float serve. He recognized the boy now.

“You’re the pinch server, aren’t you?” Oikawa gave him a warm smile. The boy widened his eyes and nodded.

“You played well at that last match we played, I have to admit. You’ll surely get better over time, since you’re only a first year,” Oikawa complimented him. “Well, good luck. Bye-bye!” Oikawa began to walk away.

“Wait!”

The setter turned around, shocked.

“I-I really admire the way you serve, O-Oikawa-san. Your jump serves are very impressive-well, everything about the way you play is impressive, actually,” The freckled boy stammered.

Oikawa stared at him with wide eyes and an agape mouth. He began to smile fondly at the boy.

“I can teach you, if you want.”

The freckled boy looked at him with a surprised look on his face. “Would you really do that?”

Oikawa gave him a genuine smile, “Yeah, we can exchange numbers and decide when we can meet.”

The freckled boy bowed, leaving Oikawa taken aback. “Thank you so much, Oikawa-senpai! I’ll be in your care!”

Oikawa patted his shoulder, smiling at him fondly. The boy straightened himself.

“What’s your name?” Oikawa asked him.

“Yamaguchi Tadashi,” the boy responded.

“Yamaguchi Tadashi…” the setter echoed, trying to get a feel of the name.

The setter took out his phone, “Can we exchange contacts, Tadashi-kun?”

“O-Oh, of course,” Yamaguchi stuttered and gave Oikawa his phone.

They exchanged contacts, and gave each other’s phone back.

“Bye-bye, Tadashi-kun!” Oikawa smiled and waved goodbye. He received a wave in return.

As he walked out of the school building, he unlocked his phone and opened his contact list. He found the new contact and smiled.

“Yeah, he will do.”

[julucid]

Feb 18'18 / F8 / Room - Net - Clay

we were stuck, held captives in a room. i dont understand the situation, since there's no real danger, or maybe the thing just didnt show me any at this part of the dream. but we were scared. scared enough not to dare attempt anything. we never saw the outside since the windows were covered with heavy curtains, but it wasnt barred off or covered up with wood so it was basically just down to us not even wanting to touch the windows. i dont understand this dream since as obedient as we were of all these unspoken rules, we beat the shit out if the guy keeping us there. i want so badly to describe him but i cant picture anything human at this point. the last thing i remember about him was that he didnt do anything to harm us and he didnt seem physically threatening. i still cant see a person. idk what happened but we had a chance, and we managed to subdue him or maybe he was sleeping and i kinda feel like he was pretending to be helpless too. like hes just letting us try for the fuck of it to laugh at us. and we turn him into jelly. idk how. but if you reverse the process, he's back into his "harmful" form, which is a handful of beans----jellybelly candy lmao.

i shouldve written this down when i woke up earlier, this and the two other dreams (now fragments :c) but i woke up from a nightmare and i tried to deal with it like all the usual nightmares, try to forget it instantly. and i especially didnt want to touch this fucking recent one cause it had a similar theme as the last log, and its something to do with Glenn dying. and i still dont know how my dreams work whether or not they're just that, passing dreams, or fucking next level warnings, i dont even want to fucking figure that shit out. but its been mostly of him in his younger self too. idk if i should feel better for that.

the guy i heard him laughing but it wasnt clear, like it was just an echo in my head. and we already melted him down to liquid jelly, and i think we screwed up and missed a step or did it in a wrong time. and we were panicking cause we didnt know what else to do and sooner or later he would come back and idk its back to feeling vulnerable.

//// ////

im in a different room, i could see the outside now. theres dust all over the furniture and some of them smelled musty and looked like they were rotting, so i thought i was in an abandoned building. by the look its surroundings, i guessed a factory. i was with someone else i didnt know who it was at first, it all happened so fast. theres been so much that happened before this and i know we were just escaping, so i thought it was somehow connected to the first dream.

i looked outside the window with broken glass shards stuck to it and i saw young glenn, with a bunch of other kids. they look like they were in 2nd grade elementary. they were in a building were the walls werent there---maybe it was unfinished, or it was in the middle of getting torn down. they were in one of those rooms without a wall, and the only thing keeping them from falling was this metal thing. it looks like a bug screen except the squares "holes" were as big as the volleyball net square spaces. so they were all pressing their faces against it. idk what they were trying to achieve but the kids were pushing outwards by slamming their bodies against the metal screen. i didnt like the way they did it with no expressions on their faces, as if they meant to get hurt. and glenn didnt seem like he wanted to do the same thing--they surrounded him, keeping him trapped in the very middle, the first to fall. and they did fall. i saw the screen bend and bend until whatever it was keeping it nailed on to the building gave in.

i dont know how i was able to see this as if i had a telescope aimed at them, but once they fell, it zoomed back out and i couldnt see what was going on. but i did know that they didnt hit the ground. SOMEHOW, the metal screen caught them all hanging in the air. but what terrified me is that they all stopped moving, and i swore i saw their skin changed to a darker purple.

next thing i know ive already crawled out another broken window, my clothes were torn and there was a wet feeling on the side of my stomach. the guy that was with me was already ahead, idk how he got out before me when i was through the window first. we were in the second floor of the building and there was this wall we had to climb down. on the top of it were these barbed wires, but they had a weird look to them. they were white, not shiny silver, and for some reason we knew they werent sharp but mere elastic plastic. he went through first, going under 2 layers of barb wires. and thats when i noticed his face, its GLENN but he was his current age now. i didnt think about it too much and just followed. i thought climbing through the wires would take longer so i just took a hoodie that i didnt even know i had. put it it on top of the wires and let my body sit on it and just fall down. the wires bended like rubber like i knew it would. and i was on the floor. its a busy street. i saw a couple of people in the distance and i was crying now. i couldnt even talk i kept yelling help me help me as best as i could with my sharp breaths. they were laughing and was caught off guard and they hesitated and i never really saw them get up to move. but i knew that they wouldve figured it out too late. i saw the building that the younger glenn and the kids were still hanging lifelessly. they were so far. so so so far and my knees were already tired. i felt my breathing slow down and i thought my heart stopped beating as well. i didnt know i was still saying help me repeatedly and i forced myself to wake up.

//// ////

i dont remember falling back asleep cause i know i woke up hearing glenn laughing, probably playing fortnite but i know i wouldnt have dared to go back to sleep after that shit

im outside i didnt get the chance to look around and observe since i was busy. i think its a school function since everyone was wearing black uniforn and i wore a long pleated skirt with a button up shirt. theres an event going on, everyone else is outside and they're all crowded up where theres hardly any space to see where you're walking. i was in the very edge of that group, surrounded by a smaller seperate group of people. im sitting down and theres a small, low, square shaped table in front of me. the stool was pretty short too so everyone around me, towered over, blocking the sun light. i couldnt tell if i was selling, or just showcasing my stuff, but i had these clay art. i think they were also edible cause i remember thinking of them as cookies--but they looked like normal playdo consistency. they were neon colored and i remember them mostly being circle and rectangle shaped, size of playing cards, flat, but the designs were like tiny paintings. the first portion of the dream was pretty calm, i forgot what happened with the other dreams and i was even almost entirely happy. i saw familiar faces from school and people i havent talked to in a while, and we chatted like we were actually catching up with our irl lives through the dream.

after i while it was time to pack up. and i think i was either giving away the rest for free, or selling them for sale to finish up fast. but not even 5 minutes after i just finished saying that, theres already been a handful of people from the crowd who snatched them up and left without even awknowledging me. i got so mad that i ended up throwing a tantrum in ways that could only be possible in dreams, i was flipping cars that werent there and i think i even had a full tub of popcorn in my hand idk how tf it got there or why there were even any and i was just throwing the popcorn at peoples faces. i was cursing everyone forgot what i said by now lmaooo but i remember the feeling of my throat, punching out each and every one of those words. and i think it was along the lines of whats the point, like why did i even take the time to make those clayartcookies and then just left the rest on the table.

the end parts of the dream was me walking away crying-- couldnt even see shit in front of me so i found myself walking up the stairs (it was like a floor of a neighborhood streets and above is even more neighborhood streets?) and this one guy that was in the group saw everything and was trying to cheer me up. he kept on going on and on, and i dont know why he didnt give up. half of the dream was me listening to him try to re-motivate me or just to get a smile out of me. i got so guilty that he was putting up so much effort in the dream---it mustve only lasted a moment irl, but it felt like hours of him walking up the stairs with me. i just woke up cause that was the only i knew he would stop and be free lmao.