#maybe volume warning first time adding audio to something

[thisbellrings]

I.Know.You.

[negasonicimagines]

Tell Me I'm Not Funny

Request: darkandmysteriousbutheartofgold!ellie and wholesomeanddoesn'tunderstandwhyelliedoesn'tlikeher!reader where they're both part of the friend group but ellie just thinks reader is straight and messing with her pls

Notes: I don’t usually write MCU!Peter, so if he comes up in any future fics (like as the reader’s stepdad 👀 I’ve loved spideypool longer than I’ve loved Negasonic) you can safely assume it’s Andrew Garfield. But, for this time, this is MCU!Peter. Everyone in the friend group is 18-20, just to be clear.

This really isn't my best work, but it's a fun little slice of life piece. A lot of my ideas are pretty cinematic, I can picture them in my head but sometimes those pictures don't really translate into words. I may revisit this one day.

Warnings: D-slur (reclaimed by Ellie in one line), allusions to prior assault (an unwanted kiss that could've been more had another character not stepped in), and that's about it. Oh, and a little swearing, but this is an imagine for a character from Deadpool. If you can't handle swearing, you're on the wrong blog.

Synopsis: You’re into Ellie, but she’s with your good friend Peter. She treats you like you don’t even exist, and in the few instances she does acknowledge you, it’s usually just to make some sarcastic remark. You’re head-over-heels, though, and decide to deal with your unrequited love by writing her a song she’ll never hear.

“Fuck, that movie was terrible,” Michelle groans. “I’m just glad it was a matinee show and we didn’t have to pay as much to see it.”

“The special effects were good, but can’t Disney just leave stuff alone?” Peter agrees.

“Next thing you know they’ll be making a live action Toy Story, as if the original wasn’t traumatizing enough. I don’t want to imagine Watermelon as a sentient being. She’s seen some shit,” you snicker.

“Who’s Watermelon?” Ellie asks with a dark chuckle, and you clam up. How had you forgotten she was here?

“Oh, uh, nobody.”

“Don’t tell me you still sleep with a stuffed animal,” she snarks. “You really do need to grow up.”

“Don’t be mean, Ellie,” Peter protests.

“Watermelon is cute, everybody likes cute things!” Yukio adds.

“I think a live-action Toy Story could be cool,” Ned says. “It’d look really good if they did stop-motion animation.”

“Oh, you’re right!” you chirp. “It’d be quite the undertaking, but it would look badass.”

“I think you’re using that term a little loosely,” Ellie grumbles, and you have to stop yourself from frowning, instead you laugh it off. Why does she always pick on you? Sure, she’s got a witty remark for everybody, but she’s way harder on you. It hurts, she really is so gorgeous and funny and mysterious and everything you want in a woman, but she acts like she can’t stand you.

Ellie and Peter head off together, Peter still hasn’t gotten around to getting his license and Ellie seems happy to give him a ride. You really don’t stand a chance.

You and the others pile up in MJ’s SUV for some late-night band practice.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” you admit to Yukio in the furthest row back.

“You can,” she insists. “You’re a way better singer than Lola, anyways.”

“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to give her the wrong impression, I-”

“For the millionth time, Y/N, you didn’t. If she hadn’t left the band, we would’ve kicked her out. Not just for cheating on me, but for hurting you.”

“I guess,” you sigh. “Why can’t you sing instead?”

“Because I’m flat.”

“Yukio, breast size doesn’t have anything to do with singing ability, you’ve just gotta practice,” you joke.

“Shut up!” she giggles, punching you in the arm. “Plus, when you sing, the songs are being sung as they were written. We’re getting the real feelings.”

“Speaking of… I have something new I’m thinking about sharing tonight. Do you mind if I text you the demo?”

“Ooh, a first look! Hell yes!”

You text her the audio file and she puts in a wireless earbud, nodding along. Her smile gets wider and wider as she listens, and when she’s done, her assessment shocks you.

“Oh my gosh. You’re into Ellie.”

“What?!” you squeak. “No way!”

“You are! But, uh-”

“Don’t even say it. I know I don’t have a chance in hell. She only tolerates me for the sake of you and Peter.” Despite the gloominess of your tone, Yukio gets a mischievous glint in her eye, it confuses you. But, that’s just Yukio. Her thoughts are all over the place; she and Ellie balance each other out that way. They dated a couple of years ago, but it didn’t work out. They decided they were better off as friends.

“Screw that other song, we’re using this as the lead single. Everybody’s gonna love it, do you have the sheet music?”

“Yeah, uh, it’s in my bag.”

“Awesome.” Yukio’s grinning like she’s won something. Is the song that good? “We’ll have to practice this one a lot, we definitely need to have it ready by the concert this Friday.”

Right. Liz’s 19th birthday party. Apparently Peter had convinced her to let the band play, it’d be cheaper than hiring a more established artist.

“Our first paying gig? I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you remind her. She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

“We’re mostly gonna be playing covers of Liz’s favorite songs, and she only has so many. We’ve gotta beef up the setlist with originals, and this is perfect! Has that pop-y fun vibe, it’ll fit right in.”

“Yeah, but if it’s that obvious how I feel about her after one listen-”

“Only because I already had a hunch after Daft Pretty Boys,” Yukio clarifies cheerily, and you sigh.

“Fair enough.”

The gang makes it to Michelle’s house, travelling down to the side door and going into the basement from there. MJ’s parents have encouraged her creativity from day one, and were ecstatic when the band was formed. You speculate that they’re mostly happy that she’s made friends. Writing and photography can be lonely hobbies.

“Y/N has something new for us!” Yukio chirps.

“That fast?” Ned’s surprised as you hand him the sheet music. He skims it. “Holy shit, this is a wicked solo! Thanks, Y/N!”

“Well, I’m hoping highlighting everybody else’s talent will disguise my lack thereof,” you chuckle.

“Don’t be stupid, we’ve all heard you sing backup,” MJ says. “You’re Ryan Ross, she’s Brendon Urie. I’m just glad we booted her out before she decided she was gonna be the only pangolin in The Pangolins.”

Everyone laughs at that.

“Let’s try it,” Michelle continues, and everybody agrees. After a sound check and a few runs of the song, it’s still clumsy, especially on your part. You’re not really used to playing and singing at the same time, outside of backup vocals, which require far less focus.

“I suck,” you mumble, but it happens to be into the microphone.

“You don’t!” Ned insists.

“With that attitude, we’re not going anywhere,” Yukio says. You hate it when she gets to the tough love stage of her support. You wish she’d stay in the shallow reassurances stage, it’s easier to brush off. “You wouldn’t be the lead singer if we all thought you sucked. We would’ve just put an ad in the paper. You’re awesome, get over it!”

You sigh.

“Fine. Thank you.”

“Say it,” she insists.

“I’m awesome,” you huff, it’s hard not to smile when Yukio tries to look serious.

“Damn straight,” Yukio says. “Or, I guess not, considering that was about Ellie.”

“Yukio!” you squeal.

“That’s about Ellie?!” Ned exclaims.

“Obviously,” MJ scoffs, fiddling with her tuners.

“Is it that obvious?!” You can’t help but feel embarrassed. Ellie probably knows exactly how you feel, maybe that’s why she dislikes you so much. Her boyfriend’s stupid friend has a crush.

“Wait, but at the beginning…” Ned trails off, before laughing. “Oh my gosh, I get it.”

“Get what? Oh… Y/N, have I ever told you how much I love you?” MJ asks.

“I- I love you, too?” You’re puzzled by their words, but you’ve got enough on your plate.

“Let’s go ahead and practice some of Liz’s favorites while we’re here,” Yukio suggests. “It’s a pretty big set list.”

You practice until dinner, getting a pizza and deciding to make a night of it since it was a little late for Michelle to be dropping you all off at your assorted residences.

You all sleep on a pallet in the basement, and despite your worries, you manage to get some rest.

Over the next few days, The Pangolins practice at every free moment, until it’s finally time for the party.

“So, just pictures of everything?” Oh, shit. She’s not supposed to be here. How are you supposed to sing that song with her here?

“Yeah! I know with how many people are coming, I’m probably not going to get as much time as I want with everyone, so pictures will be a good way to remember the night.”

“Why not just invite less people?” Ellie wonders.

“I want all my friends to be here,” Liz explains. “How’s the sound check going, Y/N?”

“It’s going great,” you say into the microphone, demonstrating the quality and volume with a smile. “Thanks for letting us play here tonight.”

“Well, Peter said you guys are great. Are you really gonna debut your best song so far tonight?”

“Oh, um,” you stutter, stepping away from the microphone. “Maybe not.”

“What? Oh, come on, please, it’ll make the night even more special! You’re playing covers of all my old favorites, sing me my new favorite!” Liz presses, but she’s not being demanding or bratty, she seems genuinely excited.

“If the birthday girl says so, who am I to say no?” you concede. Hopefully Ellie will be too distracted taking pictures. “You have way too much faith in me.”

“If you don’t quit with the self-deprecation, I’m gonna duct tape your mouth shut,” MJ interjects.

“But, Daddy, how will I say my safe word?” you tease, giggling at your own joke with the rest of the group. Yukio’s laugh seems the loudest. Ellie glares.

“We should practice a song!” Ned suggests.

“Ooh, a private show!” Liz seems excited.

“Any requests?” you ask her. Ellie’s resting scowl intensifies. If she’s more pissed off the more you open your mouth, you’re not sure how she’s gonna survive a night of you singing without going nuclear.

“Oh, oh, Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne, please?”

“You’ve got it,” you agree.

The song goes smoothly.

“What happened to the old singer?” Ellie asks, clearly unimpressed.

“You didn’t tell her?” you ask Yukio, grateful for the excuse to turn away from the sharp-tongued girl you adore.

“Didn’t want her to get the wrong impression,” Yukio explains. “She already makes enough rude comments towards you.” Yukio leans over her drum kit to give Ellie a pointed look.

“Oh, wait, shit, I didn’t mean it like that. You, uh, sound good, Y/N.”

You can’t help but whip your head back to look at her with a flabbergasted expression.

“What?! It’s true,” Ellie defends herself.

“Uh, yeah, but you just said something nice. About me. Liz, do you mind checking her for a fever?”

Liz obliges for the sake of going along with the joke before quickly withdrawing her hand.

“Jeez! I know you were kidding, but she’s burning up,” Liz declares.

“My internal temperature is higher due to my mutation,” Ellie quickly explains, looking a bit bashful. “Besides, I say nice shit about Y/N all the time.”

“No, you don’t,” the whole band says in unison, including you.

“Well, clearly I shouldn’t if everyone’s gonna make a big fucking deal about it,” she retorts, rolling her eyes. “I’m gonna go get some pictures of the decorations before there’s a bunch of fucking people here to block them.”

She stomps off in her heavy boots, and The Pangolins get back to work, putting on the final touches and making sure all the blocking looks right.

Soon enough, guests start flooding in, and Liz zips around to greet them, eventually meeting up with Peter and keeping him with her. He and Liz eventually pull Ellie away from her picture-taking, confident she’s done enough and needs to just relax and enjoy the party.

So much for distracting herself with work, she thinks.

They sit on the couch and eat, the dining room was monopolized by The Pangolins due to its elevation and space.

Ellie’s mesmerized by the way your fingers move until she hears Peter talking to Liz. They really are a cute couple.

“You really do need to hang out with us. Yukio told me Y/N thinks Ellie and I are a thing,” he says.

“Gross, you’re like my annoying little brother,” Ellie remarks.

“And you’re like my bitchy older sister,” Peter retorts with a shit-eating grin.

“Both of you, quiet! They’re about to play the new song. You’re in for a real treat, Ellie.”

“What does it have to do with me?”

Liz gives Peter a confused and slightly irritated look.

“I haven’t said anything to her, I didn’t know how,” Peter squeaks, blushing a little at the look in his girlfriend’s eyes.

“Explain, quickly,” Ellie demands.

But, then you start to sing again.

“Y/N-” Peter starts.

“Shut up.”

“But you asked-”

“I said, shut up,” Ellie insists.

“You know me as your boyfriend's goofy friend. I seem to have this effect on women, and your friends aren't as goofy as I am. I try my best to keep you entertained, always laughing at the jokes you are saying. I nod my head when you make a point, oh oh…

“Kiss me, kiss me with your eyes closed! Whisper that your heart shows all I want is you, yeah, you… Hold me, hold me I'm your bunny! Tell me I'm not funny, tell me I’m legit! ‘Cause I feel weak, in your hands and your feet… A precious end, I’ll never feel your touch…”

Ellie continues to listen to the song, all expression drained from her face. All the yearning in the words and your voice, all you want is…

Ellie looks at Peter, who’s looking at her with a triumphant smile.

“I told you.”

Ellie feels like she’s about to faint. She notices you’re talking to Liz— when did she leave? —your hand over your mic. Despite the knowledge that Liz is taken, Ellie gets jealous. You look so happy to be talking to Liz, to just about any girl you talk to.

She wishes you’d smile at her that way.

You nod at whatever Liz said, and the band starts packing away their instruments. Liz sets up her phone on some Bluetooth speakers, and songs that sounded so much better when you were singing them start to play.

No! Ellie internally protests. Sing for me again, please, sing that stupid song about how you think I don’t like you.

Yukio’s dragging you somewhere. Gosh, Ellie wishes it was her holding your hand.

Suddenly, though, you and Yukio are approaching her. She knows what she has to do.

“So, what’d you think of our- Eek! Finally!”

Ellie parts from the kiss to tell her to fuck off and not ruin the moment before kissing you again.

“Holy fucking shit,” you breathe. “Uh, I thought you were-“

“Dating Peter?! Seriously?! Do I need to write ‘dyke’ on my fucking forehead? I practically already have with the way I dress and act and-”

“I, uh, I try not to make assumptions,” you mumble, fingers touching your lips.

“I’m, uh, sorry for not asking.”

“No, it’s- It was good. I’ve wanted you to do that for a while. It’s just that that was the first time somebody’s kissed me, since, uh…” Your eyes dart to Yukio, who’s ruffling Ned’s hair and laughing.

“Yukio?!” Orange flickers in Ellie’s eyes for a moment, but she keeps it under control.

“No, no, of course not, uh… The old singer, Lola. She and Yukio were dating, but apparently I was the one she really had her sights on, and… She was entitled. Thought that because she wanted me, I must want her. That wasn’t really the case, I was already pining over you. Didn’t stop her from forcing a few kisses on me and trying to go further. If Yukio hadn't shown up early with cupcakes, I don’t know what would’ve happened.”

“I am such an asshole,” Ellie says softly. “Can I kiss you again? The right way.”

“I’d say what you did before was pretty right, but sure,” you consent.

Her kiss before had been rough, needy, and impatient. Just the way you like it. This, though, this is gentle, soft, and exploratory. You tangle your hands in her hair and kiss her harder. She moans into the kiss before pulling away, bewildered.

“That was…” Ellie trails off, trying to find a positive adjective that won’t sound to frilly or lovesick.

“A mistake, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, fuck, no. I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” she corrects you. “Just- Didn’t really know how. Even when you were kinda flirting with me at first, I just thought you were messing with me, so I- I am so stupid.”

“So am I,” you scoff. “I thought you were dating Peter.”

“I was spending a lot of time with him, but… I was just using him as an excuse to avoid you so I wouldn’t embarrass myself anymore. And I was asking him for advice. I figured if he could land somebody as far out of his league as Liz, maybe I stood the slightest bit of a chance with you. But I kept fucking it up. I’d just get so nervous, all of my compliments would turn into insults, all of my teasing turned into straight-up cruelty. I don’t know how you actually like me.”

“I’m a little bit of a masochist, I’ll admit,” you tell her. “I’m really glad you don’t hate me.”

“I’m really glad you don’t hate me,” Ellie replies, but she can’t help but think that what she‘s really saying is ‘I love you, too.’

She takes your hand, and you two rejoin your friends, swept up in a group hug. They wanted this to happen almost as much as you two did.

[sukiglycerin]

the scrapbook documenting denki kaminari and his experiences with love, subtlety, and volumes of manga || denki kaminari.

* pairing: denki kaminari x oblivious!reader (gender neutral!)

* genre: fluff, normal conflict(??) but not much, uni!au, friends to lovers, mutual pining, idiots to lovers

* words: 4.5k

* warnings: brief scenario of intoxication, mentions of maidgirls (one of them has a gun because mey-rin from kuroshitsuji), reader has past bad experiences with relationships, bakusquad is supportive af, reader is oblivious (duh), i love sero, side kiribaku

* original request: Can you do a fluff Denki crushing on the reader but the reader is really oblivious to him just badly flirting and bakusquad gets annoyed and helps them get together 😳

* a/n: this turned out much longer than expected, but i’m satisfied with the turn-out! i call this a “scrapbook” because it’s like a collection of short moments. i’m experimenting with this writing style, so i hope you enjoy it! i started writing reader by basing them off of this one pretty girl i know (and very much like), but then reader started morphing into me projecting myself and oh boy. yeah. fun fact: i actually own the kuroshitsuji manga volume with the maidgirl on the cover (volume 22).

“please don’t like me,” is the first thing you say to denki kaminari. you don’t know who he is, though, when you say these words. all you know is that he’s presumably a college student like you and that he’s quite extroverted. behind him stand three of his friends giggling to themselves. it’s apparent they’re playing a practical joke. 

the first thing the blond boy said to you was, “hey, you’re cute, i like you.” that was thirty seconds ago, after you’d put your manga down when you noticed his friends pushing him towards you.

he cracks a grin upon your response. “alright.” he puts his hands up in mock surrender. “the point still stands - you’re cute.” his eyes fall to the manga you set down. “hey- is that detective conan?”

it’s an old, worn copy of detective conan’s first volume.

“oh, yeah,” you reply.

“can i see it?” he asks. you nod.

he picks up the book, surprisingly gentle with its fading corners and creased spine. 

"i used to read the series all the time," he says quietly, reliving a memory in his eyes. "i always tried to solve the crime before conan." 

you're not sure what to answer, but he introduces himself before you can.

"i'm kaminari, by the way." he slips a piece of paper in your manga, setting the book down on your table. "text me."

“please don’t fall in love with me,” is the first thing you whisper to denki kaminari, hushed under the sheets in mina’s room. you're surprised he can hear you over the quiet murmurings of a ghibli movie playing on the tv; you're surprised he's awake.

“okay,” and it’s the first promise he’s ever broken, voice all low and hoarse from the after-effects of prolonged silence. 

(maybe he should've feigned sleep, he later thinks, as his heart stupidly falls and crashes clumsily into love. maybe he shouldn't have said anything at all.)

he turns onto his back, staring at the ceiling. it's dotted with glow-in-the-dark stars mina and sero had impulsively hung up one friday evening instead of studying. there's a couple moons, too, which bakugou had frowned upon, stating, "where are we, jupiter? there's only one moon orbiting earth." kirishima laughed. 

from the sound of shuffling sheets and a quick glance next to him, denki can tell you're now laying on your back, too. he almost makes a comment about you copying him. he stares at the faux stars overhead, not tired enough to close his eyes and allow sleep it's victory for the night. there's not much to do while awake at the moment other than strain his ear to decipher to the tv's audio. his throat feels dry, but he's not motivated enough to sit up to grab a water bottle. anyway, he supposes you and he are staring at the same sky, in a cheesy way. he remembers reading something like that in a book.

he kills the time and his aching mind by finding stupid constellations in the stick-on stars. there's a slightly distorted dipper of some sort, and a heart. there's a lot of squares. there's a shape he passes off as orion, but he knows anyone a tad more into astronomy than him would gasp at the abstract shape and completely dismiss its resemblance to orion. 

eventually, your breathing slows to a rhythmic pace beside him. the logical part of his mind tells him to sleep now that you, too, are sleeping. he doesn't know why he waited for you to be asleep first. one pentagon constellation later, kaminari allows sleep's gaze to wash over and envelope him. the ghibli movie is still playing.

it seems that his friends have beat him, somehow, to the conclusion that denki kaminari has a bit of a crush on you. it's childish, really. he shouldn't like you, recalling your first words to him. they struck you apart from other people he'd met. back then, though, he never seriously thought about you like that. sure, you were conventionally attractive (enough for him to approach you to give you his number), but it was all in good fun. that's what you were, too, for the longest time: good fun and a friend.

until one day, glances lingered for too long while you weren't looking. one day, kaminari's jokes became more and more aimed for you, to hear your laughter in his ears. one day, kaminari realizes he has your usual coffee and bubble tea order memorized, when he can barely remember his own.

he pretends all of it is completely normal, but mina assures him differently. as does bakugou, which is strange, because he's usually not wrapped up in other people's affairs (when voicing this to the blond, he responded, "it's hard not to notice because you're too damn obvious"). it's kind of hard to ignore when bakugou calls it obvious (he's literally had kirishima pining over him since day one with no notice).

kaminari really does try to ignore the bubbling feeling rising at the bottom of his heart. he really does, but you keep on shaking and shaking his poor heart until it's all fizzy like a bottle of soda. he's weak, okay? one day, he’ll explode.

his friends are all urging him to confess to you already, but he cannot work up the nerve to do so. instead, kaminari drops you obvious hints that he likes you. he doesn't know whether you're completely oblivious to them or if you're deliberately ignoring them.

he's been so painfully obvious, he swears.

he's practically able to write a list of hints he's dropped. he's fairly confident he could publish it as an advice book with the title "how to tell your crush you like them without saying 'i like you.'" by this point, he's the king of obvious subtlety. 

the list would go something like this, in no particular order:

pick-up lines

"did it hurt, when you fell-" you were silent, "-from the vending machine? because you're a snack." 

silence. absolute radio silence. he was extremely tempted to run away from the sheer awkwardness between the two of you. as he turned to leave and freak out in private, he heard you mumble a belated "thanks," which made everything worth it.

he still left to freak out, though (and plan his next pick-up line to tell you).

manga references

"hey, y/n," kaminari had said one day, after a particular burst of confidence. you hadn't looked up from your book.

"if i were shinichi from detective conan, you'd be ran," he'd said, referencing the main love interests from the manga. "or maybe vice versa. you are the smart one in this relationship..."

you didn't bat an eye. "they never get together, though? shinichi and ran."

"they- they don't?!" he'd sputtered indignantly. he definitely needed to read up his detective conan lore. "but they both like each other?"

"true," you'd replied in typical you fashion, neither letting on whether you did like him or not. well, hey, kaminari had thought. you didn't deny it. progress.

hand size comparison (which was, in reality, just an excuse to kind of hold your hand)

kaminari had smoothly been planning this for weeks (which, according to sero, was a little sad). he'd bring up the topic of hands one day in your daily conversations, then nonchalantly slip a "oh, y/n, let's do a hand size comparison!" he high-fived himself mentally upon the formulation of this genius plan - you'd definitely fall for him (or at least, realize his feelings for you - this state of teetering between do they like me or do they not like me frustrated him for months on end). the perfect opportunity presented itself one day as the two of you lounged in mina’s room (which, at this point, had become you and your friends’ hangout spot) studying. 

“wow, you type fast,” kaminari remarked as he pretended to innocently look up from the “work” (changing his laptop wallpaper for the tenth time that day) he was doing. you were focused on your work, sitting on mina’s bed with your laptop propped up by a pillow on your lap. you’d barely registered his words, judging by the way your eyebrows scrunched and how you looked up at him after a slow beat. 

“oh, uh, thanks,” you replied. “i’m just copying some text down. i don’t usually type this fas…” you trailed off, eyes widening as you watched kaminari scooching next to you on the bed. he put his hand next to yours, whose fingers still ghosted the keys of your keyboard.

“look,” he said softly, bringing your hands up to eye level. “hand size comparison.” it was breathed out belatedly, but your crystalline eyes didn’t leave his. he started to curve his fingers in between yours, holding your hand so tenderly. he really, really didn’t want to let go. “we fit.” it was a whisper he wasn’t sure you could hear - did he want you to hear it? “like… a puzzle,” he added awkwardly.

you nodded, dazed, slowly bending your fingers over his. he rocked your clasped hands side to side, a fond feeling creeping through his limbs. it was warm and tingly - and maybe it was contagious. could you feel it too, buzzing past his fingertips to you?

precisely three minutes passed before kaminari’s arm started to ache. he didn’t catch your disappointed expression when he let go of your hand, but he did catch the smile that emerged when he held your hand as the sides of your fingers nudged the bed. you didn’t get much work done after that, sitting in silence with him. 

brushing your hand in a popcorn bucket

movie nights on fridays were commonplace at mina’s. the plan, this time, was created by kirishima, who said that it was manly with just the right amount of romantic. kaminari hoped so. the movie settled on was some romance flick, as decided by mina, kirishima, and sero’s pleading with a very begrudging bakugou.

he can’t remember much of the movie. what he can remember, however, is the very close presence of you next to him as the two of you shared a popcorn bucket (courtesy of sero’s very romantic ideas). your hands brushed a (purposeful, on kaminari’s end) dozen times throughout the film. the last couple were accidents. on the first time, though, kaminari watched with satisfaction from his peripheral view as you looked from him to the popcorn that obscured the place where your hands made contact. he was very satisfied by the time the movie ended. 

truth or drink (which just ended up with you and he both getting very, very drunk)

you didn’t particularly enjoy the taste of sake, but that night was an exception. according to your drunken explanation, you had a very rough day. your exam, first and foremost, did not go particularly well (“who cares about freud!?” you blurted. “i dooooon’t!”). kaminari didn’t have the heart to ask who this freud was. then, one of your close friends confessed to you (which almost made kaminari’s heart stop, when you first recounted it to him), and you had to turn them down. you adamantly refused any sort of relationship, you told kaminari. (“nuh uh,” you shook your head. “they’re not good.”) it was surprising to him that you opened up that night. your first couple drinks left you quieter than usual - which was scary, because kaminari was practically having a conversation with himself then. a couple more drinks loosened your tongue, though. 

“there’s someone i like.” you jabbed a finger at him. “but i’m not supposed to saaaay… and it’s scaaary,” you slurred.

“ohh?” kaminari asked, more focused on the burn in the back of his throat. “whooo is it?”

you looked at your arm outstretched to him, and the pieces fell into place slower than they should’ve. he first looked around, just in case he was covering the person you were really pointing to (of course, you and him were the only ones there).

“this guy?" he asked, flabbergasted and pointing to himself. "him?!"

you nodded solemnly. "but i don't like dating," you said stubbornly. "love is dead!" you announced, flopping on the carpet. 

kaminari watched the heaving of your breaths as you lay on the ground, and strained his ears to hear your soft, soberish murmuring.

"i really like you, denki kaminari."

a dopish grin formed itself on his face. "i really like you too, y/n." 

kaminari then promptly blacked out, but not before hearing you running to the bathroom to throw up.

as of now, he can’t recall anything he or you said that night. on the contrary, he can vividly remember the ringing in his head and the sickly feeling that overtook him the next morning.

"you two are so frustrating!" mina declares over her sweetened iced tea. she points at kaminari, then to you standing with sero in the distance. you’re animatedly talking about some painting (“it’s renoir!” you mooned when you first saw it) while he and the rest of the group sit on a nearby bench. 

kaminari puts his hands up. “don’t look at me - i tried my best!”

“yeah, sure,” mina dismisses. “and i’m the queen of england.”

“i mean, they already told me not to like them!” kaminari counters. “what am i supposed to do about that?”

“shoot your shot!” mina urges. “c’mon, what’s the worst that could happen? …wait, don’t answer that.”

“yeah, kaminari, bro,” kirishima puts his elbow on kaminari’s shoulder. “flirt a little bit more.”

“that’s all you two seem to do,” bakugou grumbles from the other side of kirishima.

“you just need a little push,” mina says. kaminari isn’t sure he likes mina’s definition of push.

“i think i’m g-”

“hey, sero, come here!” mina calls to sero in the distance, earning her a couple dirty glances from others in the gallery. “kaminari wants to look at the painting with y/n.”

oh, god, kaminari groans internally. sero, already walking toward the bench, flashes a knowing grin toward him. 

“go get ‘em, champ.” sero pats kaminari on the back as the blond stands up, emitting a low, audible groan. 

the four on the bench watch as your eyes light up at the approaching kaminari, who’s sheepishly scratching his neck. he says something - then you start again, rambling something about “impressionism” then “salon.” mina watches with clasped, anticipating hands; kirishima’s hand accidentally brushes bakugou’s, who’s holding a juice box and watching the two of you; sero simply smiles with knowledge that the others are unaware of.

“well, what do you think?” you finally ask kaminari, gesturing to the painting. 

“uhh,” kaminari says. he was too busy staring at your face - the twinkle in your eyes, the curve of your lips - to pay attention to any of what you’d said. something about impressing and fleeting moments. he looks at the person depicted in the composition, then back to you. he remembers kirishima’s words - flirt a little bit more. it couldn’t hurt, could it?

“i think it’s pretty,” he leans into you, murmuring so he can be sure no one but you and he hears his words, “but it’s definitely not as pretty as you.”

you look down at yourself; then, for whatever reason, to sero. kaminari looks at sero, too, who’s wearing this stupid smile that sets unease in kaminari’s chest. he gives you two big thumbs-up. he’s so confused by sero’s behavior that he barely registers the light sensation of something on his cheek - a kiss. he looks at you, who’s looking away, then to the bench, where his friends are cheering despite the disapproving looks from those around them. he touches his cheek out of disbelief. light swells in his chest - it’s warm, so warm - but your aloof voice brings him back to reality (which really, isn’t much different from a dream).

“kaminari, you’re very red right now.”

“the two of you,” mina exclaims with the two of her hands clasped together in excitement over skype, “should go to a manga cafe!”

kaminari blinks. “as a date?”

“i wasn’t thinking about it like that.” mina nudges him, a sly smile creeping across her lips. “but hey, that works too. i mean, they did kiss y-”

kaminari cuts the pink-haired girl off before she can finish. “is that something… they’d want to do?”

“mmm…. probably,” mina says. “they were reading manga when you first met them right?”

he can vividly remember the somewhat tattered volume of conan, the detective turned little boy who must solve crime while hiding his own identity. really, the wear was only on the soft cover, nudged and peeling on the corners with faded text splayed on the spine. the pages were in crisp condition, he’d noted one day as he (totally, completely discreetly) watched you read the copy again. the bookshelf in your dorm and the stack of books on your desk is littered with different mangas, ranging from the old classics (astroboy) to some newer works (your lie in april). he only remembers this fact because he really, really wants to borrow a copy of black butler (yes, it’s the one with the maid on it. she looks really hot with a gun, okay?). all your manga are well-taken care of, cared for diligently as if each book has a piece of your heart in it. besides, you rarely lend out any (sero once asked to borrow jujutsu kaisen and you very, very reluctantly handed it to him), so he doubts you’d trust him with it.

“hang on, lemme ask sero if they’d be interested in a manga cafe,” mina says, pulling out her phone. “they’ve been close lately,” she mumbles as she types out a quick text to him, a quiet ping letting kaminari know that she’s sent it.

after a pause, mina excitedly reads sero’s reply: “yeah, probably.”

well, that was a definitive answer. 

“there’s one nearby here,” mina offers. “hagakure told me good things about it, and she has a knack for finding the best spots in town. i’ll send you the address.”

“you think they’d like it?” kaminari says in an atypical bout of self-consciousness.

“of course,” mina replies instantly. “don’t you see how they look at you?”

usagi manga kissa makes kaminari cringe. it’s not the bunny-themed logo on the top of the building, nor is it the wide assortment of manga lining the walls, nor is it the cozy, soft seats nuzzled in the nooks and crannies of the café. it’s not even the life-sized cardboard cut-outs of various anime maid girls (he actually particularly really likes that detail). it’s the name itself. usagi is fine - kaminari likes bunnies as much as the next guy. manga is fine, too - he wouldn’t be here if not for the manga. the kissa makes him cringe for the most immature of reasons, like a five year old just learning basic english vocabulary. kissa innocently shortens the word kissaten, for cafeteria, but suspiciously sounds like the english word kiss. he does not want to think about kissing as he walks into the café with you, and especially not when the lady at the counter asks if you want a couples’ discount (you say yes, solely because it’s cheaper). 

he does not want to think about kissing as he walks next to you, browsing the manga selection and passing the shoujo section that boasts illustrations of happy couples and romantic imagery. he doesn’t want to think about kissing as the two of you walk to a “couple’s” room, you rambling about the plot of the manga you chose and him with some shounen volleyball manga in his hand. kissing is the worst thing to think about as your knee touches his in the cramped apparent two-person room. he is not thinking about kissing at all when you offer him your water bottle, half full, and he’s definitely not thinking about indirect kissing or anything when he takes a sip. that would be crazy. 

fortunate for him, his manga is full of not-kissing, so he’s able to somewhat enjoy it without his mind bombarding him with the fact that your face is less than a metre away. as he finishes up the volume, he realizes how much of a middle school student he feels like. 

“y/n,” he looks up to you and says. you’re watching an old episode of neon genesis evangelion on the computer provided in the room, the manga you were reading sitting on the table beside the keyboard. 

“yeah?” you respond and pause the anime. out of his peripherals, he can see you turn to look at him. he stares at the wall ahead of him, lacking the confidence to face you head-on. 

“remember when we first met?” he reminisces. 

“the cafe?” you say. “yeah.”

“if… i can ask,” he musters, “why did you say what you did then?”

you pause, taken aback. “i… i don’t know.”

“because,” kaminari starts, and you flinch, “i like you. a-and i know you said not to-”

a ghost has crossed your face. your mouth is agape, as if you suspected his feelings but never thought he’d verbalize them. he wonders what the kiss was about. 

“i’m,” you gulp, breath stuttering, “i’m sorry.”

kaminari lied. five days later of zero contact with you, he realizes he’s in deep. he doesn’t like you - he’s in love with you. they say distance makes the heart grow fonder, and here he is, sifting through memories he had with you like they’re books. he should probably be studying instead of lying spread eagle on his bed, thinking of you. he can recall a promise made one night and the moment it was broken; he can remember the plastic stars he studied that night, falsely shining and lighting hope within him. he can remember dozens of constellations, half of which were geometric shapes, that he fell asleep to with you at his side. his heart aches, alighting a dull burn within him like a protostar barely able to burn hydrogen. 

there’s a polite knock at his door, so he assumes it to be either kirishima or sero. mina always enters unannounced and bakugou is far too brash to knock softly. slowly - almost reluctantly - he sits up in bed, standing up and making his way to the door. he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, telling him that his hair is an absolute mess and in no way presentable. he figures that either kirishima or sero will comment about it, but he never needed to impress them in the first place. turning the knob and opening the door, he’s expecting either of his friends, maybe here to nag him or ask him to come and study or say “hey, why haven’t you spammed the group chat with memes in a while? i missed them.”

he definitely isn’t expecting you, face pulled into a worried expression and lips held in a thin, anticipating line before you meet his eyes. you’re pouring out a waterfall of apologies at a thousand words per second as soon as he opens the door, letting yourself in and hardly taking notice of his bird’s nest hair. he guides you to the couch, attempting to interject and ask you to slow down, but he finds that it sounds rude at any given moment. you’re sitting on the couch, lamentations and explanations spilling from your lips as you grip the plush material of the cushion you sit on, when you finally pause to take a breath. kaminari uses this opportunity to interrupt you.

“woah, woah, woah.” he hesitantly puts a hand on your shoulder. “can you back up?”

“oh, yeah,” you start to move back in your seat and kaminari stifles a laugh.

“no, can you start your story from the beginning?” he asks. “take your time, i’m not going anywhere.”

“i’m really, really sorry about what happened the other day,” you apologize, then look at him finally and ogle his hair. “i got… scared,” you admit earnestly. before he can make any question of it, you continue, “i like you too, see. and i never really, seriously acted on it - i didn’t want to. so when you did the inevitable and confessed… it scared me. the truth is… i’m not the best at romance or relationships. i don’t want to put anyone through that, again.” your voice wavers but finishes strong as you look kaminari in the eyes.

“that?” he asks. he’s afraid he’s crossed a line, but you reply all the same.

“i was in a relationship, once. i wasn’t… i wasn’t good enough. i didn’t do the things that people in a relationship are supposed to do, i guess.” you fiddle with the fabric of the couch, looking down at your fingers. your voice gives away the vulnerability of the topic, wrapped in a stiff disconnection; you’ve distanced yourself from it, probably once too familiar with the feelings you speak of.

“it’s okay,” kaminari says, almost too quickly. he slows himself down. “that’s… completely fine,” he admits truthfully. “we can go slow. i… i can wait.”

“can you?” you look up at him, hope shining your eyes. it dims quickly before you say, “you don’t have to. i don’t want to limit you…”

“the only person i want is you,” he reassures you, hesitantly taking your hand in his. “you’re not…” he struggles for words, “...limiting me if i don’t have eyes for anyone else.”

“are you sure?” it’s an almost inaudible whisper, clutching your hopes in three words that are held together by thin threads. 

“i’ve never been more sure,” kaminari replies confidently, giving your hand an encouraging squeeze.

“okay,” you breathe out, relief tingeing your speech. “i… want to be with you.”

it takes everything in kaminari not to kiss you right there. 

“oh, by the way-” you say, standing up from the couch and leaving kaminari to sit alone, “did you still want to borrow that copy of black butler?”

“the one with the maid who has a gun?” kaminari asks, eyes wide. how did you know about that?

“yeah. you kept staring at it before, so i assumed…”

“yeah. yeah, no, yeah, that’d be really great. amazing, actually. wonderful. stupendous-” kaminari shuts himself up before he can ramble on longer. 

“okay, give me a second,” you respond, smiling, and exit to the hallway to retrieve the manga. 

you return with the volume in hand, placing it in kaminari’s hands. 

“thanks,” he says as he glides his thumb over the glossy cover and mint condition. it’s heavier than kaminari thought, and it feels like the weight of a heart. he’ll be sure to take extra care of it, holding it with ginger fingers and a sweet, sweet feeling in his chest.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 141

Last week I posted a day early because vacation was doing vacation things to my sense of time.... This week I forgot to queue the chapter up because Monday was a work holiday, so I forgot today was Tuesday. *insert facepalm here please*

Thanks on this one go largely to @baelpenrose who rightfully pointed out that one part made very little sense to him and therefore was unlikely to make sense to a reader.  The clarification smoothed things out quite a bit, I think.  Just in case, whoever spots the area I’m talking about gets a cookie as soon as travel restrictions lift.

As always, thanks go also to @the-raven-fae, @charlylimph-blog, and @anotherusrname for completing the corners of my support system. And, a super-duper extra-special to @drinksteawithcake! I don’t know if I am allowed to tell everyone why, but you know why you get the extra-special, and I hope you are having fun!

BWAAAAAHP!   BWAAAAAHP!

“Uhhh?” I squinted in complaint as flailing arms clambered over me. One pair snagged me around my waist to drag me from bed before depositing me shakily on my feet. “What are you - ?”

BWAAAAAHP!  BWAAAAAHP!

Any trace of sleep was shoved out of my system, replaced by sizzling alertness when I realized I was hearing ship-wide alarms.  Shoving myself into the first clothing I grabbed, not even bothering with shoes, I was hot on Conor and Maverick’s heels as we raced out of our quarters and into the corridor. We paused only long enough for both men to kiss me and for “I love yous” to be exchanged before they turned and headed toward the areas indicated on their datascreens, while I hauled ass toward the Archives, ducking and twisting to avoid anyone in my path.

“Forty minutes,” Tyche told me crisply as I basically fell through the door, panting. “The Ark could be invaded and the battle over by the time you make it.”

“I ran….huff….the whole….ugh….way….” I managed to gasp out.  Part of me felt like puking, but I was pretty sure the muscles in my abdomen were too busy to figure out the logistics.

Clicking her tongue, she pulled me up from the floor. “Alistair, make a note to suggest to Xio that Sophia’s quarters be relocated once we have a better idea of when we are dropping into real space.”

I nodded numbly. “And probably… amp up… sensors… give… earlier… warning.”

“Nice outfit, by the way,” she laughed quietly as we finally reached the shelter point within the Archives.

Glancing down, I had to suppress a sigh. The first thing I grabbed to dress myself had apparently been a pair of Conor’s boxer shorts and a very filthy t-shirt that I assumed belonged to Maverick, since Conor’s was usually under coveralls. “At least you can’t say I took my time getting dressed.”

Her shaking head was greeted by faces in various states of wakefulness - this had been a drill, and woke nearly the entire Ark during their sleep interval on Delta shift.  But we weren’t out of the woods, yet: the drill didn’t end until all of Xiomara and Evan’s scenarios played out, including the mock combat and various tests of concealment for the other shelters.  As such, Tyche stood guard over the choke-point into this section, while Alistair had stayed behind at the entrance.

Early on, when the drills started, there had been fifty-fifty odds that the mock-invaders would make it this far, but over the past few weeks, that had narrowed to maybe twenty-percent.  It was still too high a chance in my judgement, and Xiomara clearly agreed as she stepped up training schedules and randomized the timing of the drills. 

Taking a swig of water from a stash of bottles, I queued up my datapad and stood next to Tyche, watching the ‘casualties’ from a point where no one could see over my shoulder to avoid panic, which I would have done in a real situation. “They didn’t find mess hall seven this time,” I murmured.

She glanced at my screen. “Acoustics are still too damned high. She must not be simulating for that this go around.”

One of the decoy locations lit up. “Looks like this time it’s heavy on thermal.” The location in question had been equipped with a cooking surface, triggered to activate when the klaxons that had woken me up went off.  Which Xiomara knew, but did not tell the ‘pirates’ for authenticity.

“How did they get past the combatants this time?” She asked, both curious and slightly worried.

Rolling back the sensor data, I watched it carefully. “Looks like these got in during the initial breaches, multiple points. But the line has held since, that’s good.”

Doing another check toward Alistair’s direction, she didn’t seem to see anything concerning. “How many?”

“Four,” I confirmed.  “Sam’s thermal camouflage is working beautifully, though.”  I couldn’t help but grin, and Tyche snorted at the same time. ‘Thermal camouflage’ was a bit of overkill as a name, but it was working well in every round. Potential access points were equipped with fast-acting environmental simulators - originally designed for temporary habitats on inhospitable moons - modified to release atmosphere like a Terran equatorial rainforest within one minute in an enclosed space.  It was a much more simple and elegant solution than any others we had found for giving combatants defending the Ark an advantage - instead of trying to create technology to make them look colder, make the entire area match human heat signatures.  Boom, instantly blinded enemies.

A tense half-hour later, the ‘all clear’ sounded, queueing grumbling from those who had dozed back off as everyone stood to make their ways back to their quarters. I waited with Alistair and Tyche for everyone else to be accounted for on the way out, and the three of us headed back toward our quarters together.  Alistair peeled off first, living closest to the Archives, and no sooner had my sister and I reached my door than the page sounded for the post-drill meeting.  She waved me off as she answered on her databand, and I did the same as I pushed into my quarters and flopped on the couch. “Councillor Sophia Reid, present, audio only,” I answered. “And no jokes, Pranav… I look like I smell awful.”

“Alistair Worthington, present, audio and video. I can confirm that she does, and she does.”

Laughter filled the comms and the rest of the group leaders and Councillors joined the debrief.  Finally, everyone was present and Xiomara called the meeting to order.  First, the leaders of each shelter reported in, as those usually went the fastest. There were a couple malfunctions in the deployment of the shielding to disguise the entrances and hide heat and electrical signatures, but nothing Huynh’s team couldn’t fix.  Tyche and Alistair made the recommendations around earlier detection and the need to move those sheltering in the  Archives closer as we approached time to drop out of relativistic space. 

Once that was out of the way, it was on to the combat and invasion teams. Overall consensus was that Sam’s trick with the portable environments was a rousing success and would be installed at each point determined to be most likely as a breach, with trigger conditions to be determined later. “I hate to say it,” Michael sighed, “but we also need Charly’s team to crank up the scovilles on the arrows and grenades.” His team had played the ‘invaders’ this go around, equipped with sensors and readouts to simulate the effect our defenses would have on the various species who most commonly were found on pirate vessels.  Evan had worked intensely with Pranav and Derek to ensure that the strategies provided by the readouts were modelled after similar strategies based on which ever species each team member was assigned, to ensure we weren’t accidentally drilling against human tactics.

Michael hated it, but he was strict about his team complying nonetheless.

“Seriously?” I squawked, and I wasn’t the only one. “One of those things accidentally went off in my quarters…. Can confirm, they’re pretty potent.”

“They dissipated too fast against my team, and also the contact element left a lot to be desired. Charly, you may want to consider adding a sticking element.”

“Duly noted,” she chimed in with a yawn, her normal pep doused by being woken up and then the drop in adrenaline post-combat.

“What about the sonic weapons?” Xiomara asked, moving the meeting along.

“Still less effective than Nixe is on her own,” a familiar voice I couldn’t put a name to responded with a sheepish tone.  “How hard would it be to train more people to shatter glass with their voice?”

“Incredibly,” Grey stressed. “It takes a very unique combination of training and the right vocal chords.”

“Then we may need to work on adding a projection component.  The sonic devices can match the pitch, but not the actual tone and direction. They’re very effective given time and especially contact, but we need something more immediately disabling.”

Xiomara groaned. “Are we back to Mariah Carey on this one?” Objections exploded until she muted the comms. “It’s that or opera.” Votes started scrolling up the screen, and I could see Xio nod. “Opera it is.  Let’s find a suitable piece and try using more analogue-style speakers.”

“I still say that death metal would work better,” Arthur suggested as soon as the comms were back on.

“Annnnd we already tested it, I will remind you. The volume works, but the pitches aren’t high enough to hit a broad enough population of species sensitive to sound.” After that nearly-obligatory objection, the meeting continued going through reports from each combat team until finally Xiomara announced the end results. “I have to admit, this was one of our best drills yet. Ten percent casualties of the combatants defending the breaches, only two percent among non-combatants, and the invaders were only able to traverse three decks before they were subdued.” She let the cheers go for a couple seconds before getting everyone’s attention again. “Yes, great job on the improvements, but let me remind everyone - those numbers still leave us below threshold for a healthy genetic population. Engineering teams, make the necessary adjustments with whatever resources are necessary. Shelters Three and Seven, you will start training for armed and unarmed combat with Shelter Fourteen and Combat Team Two daily.  Sophia, your team will coordinate schedules. Any questions?”

There were no arguments, not even a groan or mutter as the meeting was dismissed. Before I could even add the new task to my agenda the next day, I received the notification that Alistair had beaten me to the punch.

Glancing at the time, I wanted to hit something.  I had to be back up and at work in four hours, and the realization weighed me down with exhaustion.  The guys had come in and gone to bed while I was in the debrief, and I could already hear synchronized snoring coming from the bedroom.  Rather than risk waking them with my now-frozen feet, I pulled the quilt off the back of my couch and rolled myself into it.  Only minutes later, a heavy weight oozed across my hip and started purring furiously.

“Yeah, buddy. I agree. We need a nap.”

<< Prev  Masterlist  Next >>

[scribblemedee]

Little Farm Near the Forest

Prologue - Connection Successful

Summary Artofel “Artie” Digbee’s humble farm was finally upgraded from Fantasy Dial-Up to the Fantasy National Broadband Network. It was great for about 2 seconds, until every device in the house started screaming. After figuring out that they were now connecting to a distress signal, they unearth an ancient being who had been sealed away for centuries. The two fall in love, of course.

Hi, welcome to the little prologue! There will be h/c in the first chapter, but I thought I’d set the scene so I’d actually get the real story underway.

Warnings: Contains imprisonment, traces of torture

The pain and malaise were constant. There was nothing else. No past, no future, just the prison and what was left of him. The darkness had already swallowed him. Hope had fled, if it had ever existed.

All that existed was the pulse of the magic, the everlasting agony of his bonds, and whatever he was now. A writhing mass in the bowels of the world, forgotten for eternity.

That was, until -

Something.

Something above him had awoken - something that whirred to life in the corner of his mind like a lifeline. It was so close. It shone like steel in the sun, leaving afterimages in his vision. It was no living soul, it was not even a spell beacon, but it was the first thing outside his prison that he had felt in what felt like days, weeks, even months.

Desperately, he reached out. There was no response. No recognition. This thing, whatever magic it had, was alien. Or perhaps not even real. Perhaps he had gone even more mad than he had thought possible, his consciousness folding in on itself. It mattered not. Nothing mattered. But he would take this small mercy.

He clung to the mysterious magic connection, and let his mind scream.

___________

A loud, annoyed sigh floated through the farmhouse, with no one to hear it.

Dear Homeowner of 2 Galderdash Highway,

Thank you for your inquiry titled: "freaky interference since spellnet upgrade" Attached is a troubleshooting guide for interference errors for your Spellnet Modem. Due to your location in a remote area, please be advised that our in-person technician services are unavailable. If the error still occurs, please contact us via facecall, which can be accessed from our website. Yours sincerely,

The National Spellnet Team.

"Cool, fine," Artofel Digbee mumbled to the letter in their hands. "Yeah, I'll just call you on my phone, the one that won't stop fucking screaming, ay?"

Regardless, they stomped out to the runic modem at the back of their house, side-stepping around their farm-grown egg-plants with practiced ease.

The upgrade should have been sweet modernization. It was supposed to improve loading times and allow for more devices to be connected at once. It was welcome news to Artie. They enjoyed their simple life on their small little plot of land, but would have enjoyed it a whole lot better if they could groove to their music without waiting 12 minutes for one song to buffer.

Well, they had to hand it to the local government's new spell network. At least the screaming loaded instantly, and played without any interruptions, ad free!

It wasn't really a mechanical-sounding scream. It sounded sentient, like someone was yelling their throat raw and it would not stop.

Maybe it was live audio from the offices of the government employees. Or maybe their new network's just fuckin haunted.

Either way, it affected all devices. The television, tablet, computer, and even their spellphone glitched and played the audio heedless of the volume setting. It was annoying enough that Artie was going to spend their whole afternoon trying to fix the damn thing. The troubleshooting handbook, predictably, was no fucking help. It looked like they were going to have to get a bit old school.

There was an old analogue signal reader that they had in the spare room. It was the remnant of a long-forgotten emergency kit, tucked away before civilized technology reached Artie's corner of the world. It was crude, slow, and so pixelated that they could use it to make crochet patterns, but it was good enough for basic SOS signalling and it'd be good enough for this particular situation.

As soon as it whirled to life, Artie swore.

The screen flashed, glitching in a way that it very much was not supposed to do.

"Cool, the fucking emergency device is broken too. Nice, fuckin fantastic - wha..."

Ripples of dark and light squares stuttered around their display, until they formed something that - that - wait. That was familiar.

While they did have a university degree, Artie did not consider themselves a super academic kinda person. That didn't mean that they didn't take a couple of semesters of Ancient Elden back in the day. They weren't fluent by any means, but they knew the lettering when they saw it.

Almost in a daze, they took a few steps back to the spare room, where all their old unused textbooks were entombed. They flicked open dusty pages to the alphabet, and ran their fingers back and forth to common phrases.

HELP ME LET ME OUT HELP ME LET ME OUT HELP ME LET ME OUT

The words scrolled over and over again across the screen like some sick programmable LED sign you'd see at a small grocery store.

The screaming wasn't an interference. It was some kind of distress signal.

Panicked, they tilted the signal reader to see the buttons on the side of the screen. If this was a signal and not a glitch, even if they couldn't see the menu, theoretically the buttons should still work somehow. They vaguely remembered the options.

>Menu

>Emergency

>Locate External Signal

The screen stuttered again, and then the local radar popped up, somewhat obscured. They tapped the direction buttons and zoomed out.

4km south-east, somewhere in the forests near their farm.

They should run into town. Artie couldn't message anyone where they were going via the net, so they should let someone know in-person.

There was no time. If someone was out there stuck in the rain forest without equipment, then they had to move quickly.

Artie’s sprint to their hover trike was almost as fast as the vehicle itself.

[sa-suga]

#OWLTIERIGHTS

∟ bokuto koutarou x gn!reader | humour/crack, a bit of fluff

warnings: swear words, tbh this is more like a squadfic, the author’s complete lack of knowledge about how the filming of news reports/variety shows work, i just decided over lunch that meteorologist bokuto is very much Valid and my gremlin brain latched onto that like a dying man

masterlist

summary: there’s a new addition to Fukurodani Studio, and he wears ties patterned with baby owls and smiles brighter than your studio lights. you make a note to send a bouquet to Nekomata, because wow, his new model of news cameras really are amazing, if you can see the stitches on Bokuto’s trousers.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

“Kuroo keeps pushing for the thirsty tweets idea, but, I don’t know,” you balance your phone in the crook of your neck as you frown at the reports in your hands, “haven’t we already done one of those this month?”

“Ignore him,” Kenma says over the line, and you hear the rapid smashing of a keyboard over the static. Yamamoto yodels in the background. “He just wants to see Lev meltdown on national television again.”

You huff at the memory. It’d been kind of adorable, the way he’d trainwrecked into embarrassment. “I’ll tell Kuroo you said to ignore him; hey, what do you think about-” 

“HEY HEY HEY!” Someone bursts into the lobby from the stairwell. You're on the eighth floor. He’s not even winded. 

“AGHAASHI!” He beams, looking around the room brightly, and you actually have to shield your eyes - which entity decided to casually drop a sun in the middle of an office in the dead of night? Well, you grumble internally, fuck you too, universe.  

It takes you a while to map the name to the face, and you realize you’ve been silent for a moment too long - great, look dumb in front of the hot, athletic, sunny man, way to go Y/n, would you like to trip off a cliff while you’re at it? - “Akaashi-san is on the morning crew,” you tell him. A quick glance at your screen tells you Kenma has long since hung up. “He only comes in at 9a.m.” 

You squint. Are those baby owls on his tie? They clash terribly with his checkered suit, especially when you take his odd hair into consideration. You think you might be in love.

"WHAT?” He crowds your personal space in a few large strides. You find it hotter than you probably should. And wow, those biceps. You could get between those.

“Yeah,” you repeat, as you ogle his neck - his tie is crooked, the top button undone, and you can’t tell if you want to pull it off or fix the stupid tie with the stupidly cute owls - “Akaashi-san’s the producer for the morning show, Fukurodani News, so he only comes in at 9a.m.”

He blinks at you owlishly. (Ha. Owlishly, owls, owl tie. Fuck, you need caffeine.)

Then, slowly, he turns to where there’s a clock somewhere behind you. You turn with him for dramatic effect. The building holds its breath. 

There’s a satisfying tick as the hour hand shifts to point squarely at 11. The sky outside is dark, and you wonder if suffering through the powdery taste of office coffee is worth it for another shot of caffeine.

“Oh,” he says, sounding like a deflated balloon - you swear his hair even droops a little; how is a grown man who looks like he could punt you in the sun so adorable, what the actual fuck - “Aghaashi meant 11a.m.”

It’s love at first sight.

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His name is Bokuto Koutarou, and he’s the new meteorologist for the morning show. 

He's also the love of your life, and you're not even being dramatic. In fact, you think you’re handing this very, very professionally.

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It’s 8p.m on a Wednesday, and you’ve shut the door to your office, drawn the blinds, and turned off the lights. 

Steepling your fingers before you in concentration, you wait with a deathly sense of calm for the recording of the morning news to load. More specifically, a recording of the weather forecast segment of the the morning news. On loop.

“HEY HEY HEY!” Bokuto’s smile is contagious even through a screen. The mic crackles and lets out a ear-splitting shriek at his volume. You empathize. 

“GOOD MORNING TOKYO!” His grin is blinding; it’s like he’d absorbed all the studio lights, decided it still wasn’t enough, and added a sun or two for good measure. You make a mental note to ask Yukie to dim the studio lights and turn down the audio for Bokuto’s segment in the future - the equipment is new, and it’d been hard enough to wheedle for discounts from Nekomata for his latest model of news cameras. 

On-screen, Bokuto pauses, tapping his ear. “OH,” he says, “AGHAASHI SAYS THERE’S A POSSIBILITY OF RAIN TODAY.” His tie is crooked, you notice. His biceps bulge through the fabric of his suit. 

Only the best cuts of meat for you, Yukie. 

“IT’S GOING TO BE SHOWERING,” Bokuto says cheerfully, as he draws lopsided circles over prefectures on the interactive map with wild abandon, “SO DON’T FORGET YOUR UMBRELLAS! - HEY AGHAASHI, HOW DO THOSE TRANSPARENT ONES WORK? THEY DON’T STOP YOU FROM SEEING THE RAIN!” There’s a pause, and you can almost hear his answer - there’s a certain timbre that’s unique to Akaashi; his voice conveys all his desire for sleep and death while still maintaining a very polite edge. 

“WOW, THAT’S AMAZING! HEY GUYS, AGHAASHI SAYS SEEING THE RAIN DOESN’T MEAN IT TOUCHES YOU! THAT’S LIKE PLAYING HIDE AND SEEK-”

“Thank you Bokuto-san,” the feed changes to Konoha, the host, and who’s doing a terrible job of containing his glee - are those tears in his eyes? - “now back to Yamato-san for the morning news. Stay tuned!”

You wonder if you can convince Akaashi to let Kenma borrow Bokuto for the night show. Somehow, you imagine he’d get along with Tetsurou, in the same way adding sodium to water would result in a Big Bang - like sure, there’d be collateral damage, but hey, the fireworks were pretty, and the sound was dope, right?

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Convincing all parties involved - except Akaashi and Kenma, who still thought it was a bad idea but were overruled by everyone else - that blowing things up on set is a good idea results in probably the most chaotic show you’ve ever produced. 

“HEY HEY HEY, TOKYO!” Bokuto crows on set, fist pumping, and Yukie winces from within the sound booth, pulling her headset away from her ears.

“Today, we’re-“

“BLOWING THINGS UP!”

Tetsurou and Bokuto smirk. Lev, who’s waiting off-set, shivers. Inuoka whoops and presses a series of buttons in rapid succession. The ceiling above the set splits open, sending confetti streaking prettily over the two hosts of today’s show. The spotlights flicker on, and you actually have to squint when Bokuto smiles. 

“Actually,” Fukunaga, the news anchor for the night show, steps in, “we’re just conducting science experiments.”

“WHY’D YOU SAY SOMETHING SO BORING WHILE SMILING LIKE THAT!” Bokuto crosses his arms across his chest, pouting, and wow, you really had to thank Yukie for getting him to wear more fitting suits. 

You watch as Fukunaga’s eyebrows furrow. “I’m not smiling.” 

Tetsurou cackles. “There’s our Shohei - the only man who can read the news with a smile!”

If possible, Fukunaga’s frown deepens. You worry his eyebrows may knit together. “I don’t smile.”

Then a volleyball flies on set, tearing straight through the backdrop. The Tokyo Tower peels away and droops sadly, next to the statue of a whale outside the National Museum of Nature and Science, which is now missing its head. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Shibayama from Editing sigh and drop his head into his hands as Konoha’s laughter rings throughout the studio - no amount of editing will be able to erase it from the tape. Devil spawn leave their traces everywhere.

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Three days later, after an intense round of editing - you barely see Shibayama and Shuichi outside of the editing studio, and the occasional groans you hear when you pass by have half-convinced you they’ve turned into the walking dead - the show airs. The views skyrocket.

On Twitter, below the #HEYHEYHEY tag that has been trending ever since Bokuto’s first appearance, #FUKURODANISUPERIORITY is trending. You screenshot it and send it to Daichi.

Smiling, you make a note to send them a bouquet as congratulations; Shiratorizawa’s topped the Miyagi rankings for as long as anyone can remember. Maybe you’ll search for recordings of Karasuno’s show, to see what they’ve been up to.

(And crush them when they come for a joint show.)

Speaking, of, Yukie deserves a reward for her exemplary work. You’re nothing if not a supportive and professional boss, after all.

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You try not to drool as you watch the recording of the morning show from your office.

Yukie really outdid herself this time, you think, as you watch the way the fabric of Bokuto’s trousers pull taut over his thighs when he moves. Distantly, you’re aware of Inuoka calling your name. You ignore him.

Fuuuck, you exhale deeply. You can see the stitches on Bokuto’s suit. You can also see the thin sliver of muscle where he had paid absolutely no attention to the tucking integrity of his shirt. 

No one is able to talk to you for the twenty or so minutes that Bokuto’s segment airs.

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At Fukurodani Studio, holding a party every New Year’s is a time-honoured tradition.

Akaashi calls it a celebration of past achievements and a way to start off a new year of improvement.

Kenma calls it a waste of time.

Most people call it free real estate.

Having a party that lasts from New Year’s Eve to the morning of New Year’s is a time-honoured tradition. So is the complete erasure of honorifics and superior-subordinate relationships.

(In hindsight, the honorifics were more for appearance’s sake than anything. You’d heard about Suzumeda extorting the Variety Show department, and she’s a stylist for the morning crew.)

Still, it makes for a wild night.

“HEY HEY HEY,” Bokuto slurs, pushing off of Tetsurou before collapsing, the latter cursing as he scrambles to take his weight, “OYA, TOK-hic-KYO, YOUR TEM-TEMP-TEMPERATURE IS S-SOAAAARING!” You spot Konoha already on the ground, clutching his stomach as he laughs uncontrollably. 

Yeah, you remember, he’s a giggly drunk.

“Y/n!” Tetsurou spots you as you make your way past the crowd - Yukie waves at you from behind a plate piled high with meat - “Hey, take him for a moment, ‘kay? Kenma ran off and I think he left his coat.” 

You raise a brow. “You’re expecting me to support that sack of muscle?”

“HEAT!” Bokuto exclaims, “BE-hic-CAREFUL, TOKYO! HU-HUMIDITY MEANS APARTMENT FIRES!”

“It really doesn’t,” you tell him.

He pouts. It’s adorable.

You sigh as you help Tetsurou guide him to a chair. “Okay, go find your baby cat, shoo, shoo.”

“Did you mean kitten?”

“Fuck off, Tetsu, I’m tipsy.” You wave him off. 

Komi passes you with a paper cup and you pluck it from his hands and down half of it in one gulp. Beer.

“What,” you glare at him, “I worked hard to get you this buffet.”

“Didn’t say anything,” he raises his hands in surrender, bending down to inspect Konoha, who’s still on the ground, before giving him a decisive kick in the ribs. Konoha howls. Your skin clears.

“Enjoy,” he winks at you as he drags Konoha away unceremoniously by the back of his shirt.

You consider the contents of your cup. This is probably your third one - and you’re a lightweight.

Ah, fuck it. You down the rest of it, and throw the cup into a hastily set up bin.

Bokuto whoops when it goes in, “THAT’S DOPE!”

Turning, you stalk over to him. He beams at you happily, cheeks apple-red with a drunk flush. 

You bend till you’re speaking into his ear, “Wanna know what else is dope?”

“Sure!” He’s a man-child. You’re in love with a man-child. 

“This,” you say, and straddle his lap.

His eyes widen comically. You give him a soft smile, even as your hands ruck his shirt up so that it’s untucked. “If you want me to stop, now’s the time to say so, Bokuto-san.”

“You’re the attractive 11p.m person,” he says instead. Then, excitedly, “Can I really kiss you?”

You kiss him.

A dozen cameras go off.

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Dating Bokuto is an Experience, to say the least.

It’s like having an overgrown puppy who doubles as the singular light source wherever he goes. It’s going to bed with goodnight texts and waking up with GOOD MORNING, MISS YOU BABE :( flashing across your screen. It’s waking up to find that the highest trending tags on Twitter are #WEATHERBOYHASABAE and #AMOMENTOFSILENCEFORTOKYO because he starts off his shows with, “GOOD MORNING, Y/N, TOKYO IS SHINING FOR YOU TODAY.” 

It is, apparently, also receiving work emails about your boyfriend’s work ethic at 7a.m.

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thanks for reading!!

i’m aware this is lowkey highkey a crack fic and there isn’t much emphasis on romance here, but i wrote this as stress relief breaks from studying for my lit exams from hell so i decided to run with the chaotic crack (a la kuroo and bokuto),, please appreciate this it kept me sane :”)

also idk if other people do this but i love watching weather forecasts?? like this video is one of my favs; i stan a king going wild with taylor swift references 

ok but for real though if i did this news channel au with the other teams would y’all be interested? (please lmk through asks if you’d like to see more because i really, really want to write it and i’m this close to doing it i just need enablers)

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taglist: @occasional-haikyuu​, @pyblos​, @roseonfireinwinter​ 

if you want to be added to my taglist, please send me an ask!

[themaskedwriter]

Never Gonna Give You Up

Pairing: Peter Parker x Teen!Reader

Word Count: 1979

Summary: There’s a prank war going on that has to do with a certain song, but no one is owning up to it. The only people amused are Peter and his s/o that gave him the idea. Then Peter decides to turn on you, but you don’t really mind.

Warnings: Rick Astley, if that counts

A/N: I love prankster Pete, it’s just so wholesome

Clues: The color red on nearly any character is one of my weaknesses, I’m a Pisces and astrology is one of my many hobbies, and I call my hometown “yeehaw territory”

————-

“We’re no strangers to love

You know the rules and so do I

A full commitment’s what I’m thinking of

You wouldn’t get this from any other guy”

 Tony was confused. He did not remember adding the Rick Astley classic to his hard rock playlist, or any other playlist for that matter. But it was still being heard by friend and for during a raid on a HYDRA base, completely baffling everyone there.

 All he wanted to do was kick ass and listen to AC/DC while he did so. Was that too much to ask? Apparently.

No matter what he did, what song he tried to skip to, the command was overridden and that cursed song continued to play. He couldn’t focus on fixing his playlist mid-battle, so he just worked around it and planned very satisfying revenge for whoever did this.

 ————-

 Peter showed you some of the audio from the previous mission, Tony fumbling and cursing when his audio wasn’t cooperating and the rest of the team laughing or groaning in shared annoyance.

 By the end of the audio, you both were rolling around on the bottom bunk of his bed in hysterical laughter. You had brought the idea up about using the song-that-became-a-meme to your boyfriend during chemistry class. Needless to say, it yielded terrific results. “Babe, that was absolutely genius!”

 “Come on, you know you did the heavy lifting. Hacking into the Iron Man suit? That is absolutely insane!”

 Peter’s smile took over his whole face as he let himself feel a little bit of pride for the accomplishment. Maybe it was time to step it up a notch. It was to impress you, after all… 

————-

 During target practice the next day, Clint’s day had started normally. He woke up a good two hours after everyone else and drank a pot of coffee, nothing unusual.

 His bow and quiver were still safely stored in the weapons vault and they looked completely untampered with. Extending an invite to Nat and Bucky, the trio headed to the indoor shooting range.

 Headphones on. Targets ready. Arrow notched. Arm pulled back. Deep breath in.

 Fwoosh!

Thud!

 “Never gonna give you up

Never gonna let you down

Never gonna run around

And desert you!”

 “Clint, what the-”

“Turn it off, man!”

“I don’t know what’s happening!”

 Clint has no clue why his arrow sang when it hit the target. Maybe it was a dud or something since he knew that he didn’t add that option to his arrows. An interesting dud, but a dud nonetheless.

 “What do we do?!”

“Try shooting another arrow at it!”

 Fwoosh!

Thud!

 “Never gonna make you cry

Never gonna say goodbye

Never gonna tell a lie

And hurt you!”

“It’s happening again!”

“No shit!”

“Try another one!”

 Before Clint could fire another arrow at the target, Nat snatched the bow from his hands. “For all we know, every single one of these arrows sing! No one is firing anything!” The redhead jumps over the barrier and to Clint’s target, promptly yanking the arrows out of the center of the target and snapping them in two.

 The audio is distorted for a few seconds before crackling out, a couple sparks coming from the bugged arrows.

 “That was an adventure. Who wants lunch?” Clint offers, giving up on target practice for the day.

“We literally just ate breakfast two hours ago, how are you hungry?” Nat raised an eyebrow at her friend.

“Doesn’t matter, let’s eat.”

 ————-

 Since becoming an Avenger (kinda), Peter had been given his own lab that was connected to Bruce and Tony’s in case something went wrong. In this lab he had access to both Karen and FRIDAY, the AI’s being extremely useful to the teen for various reasons.

 Sometimes he asked about certain formulas or the whereabouts of his mentor(s), but today he asked FRIDAY to show him the video feed from the shooting range.

 You were perched on one of Peter’s worktables, legs dangling off the edge. There was a bowl of popcorn at the ready, just waiting for the show. Peter sat in the chair next to you and leaned his head against your leg, one hand rubbing it affectionately.

 You both disregarded the small talk coming from the trio in favor of the reason you were watching in the first place: the latest prank.

 At first, you both succeeded in keeping your laughter at an acceptable volume. The key words were “at first” because when Bucky told Clint to shoot another arrow at the first arrow, Peter lost it. The thing about Peter’s laughter was that it was contagious, and his laughter caused you to fall apart not far behind.

 “Pete! Y/N! What in the world-” At the sound of the region’s voice in the lab, Peter hastily closed the video feed, hoping Tony didn’t realize what was going on.

“Nothing, Mr. Stark! We’re not doing anything! Just, uh…”

“Watching cat videos! You should have seen Snuggles when his claws got stuck to the curtain! Comedy gold!”

 Tony gave the two of you an incredulous look. He didn’t know what you were up to, but he knew you guys weren’t laughing that hard at the demise of Snuggles. “Right… just keep it down a bit, will ya? Bruce dropped a beaker of chlorine trifluoride and now we have a new window straight down into the gym.” Tony left the lab as quickly as he arrived, leaving you be.

 Once he was gone, Peter gave you a look that said “how did you think of that on the spot?!” because your boyfriend is literally the worst liar you have ever met.

 You shot him a wink as you turned the video feed back on, not failing to notice how he shifts closer to you and wraps his arms around your leg, arms resting on the top of your foot. It took you a little while to get used to your boyfriend’s cuddly nature, seeing as he is more than willing to have any kind of physical contact, no matter how unconventional, at any given time.

 ————-

 Neither of you kept track of how many times you played the footage over, but it was indeed more than a dozen.

 But during about the sixth repeat, your boyfriend had an idea all his own, and decided to enlist the help of his mentor. He had been asking you for help with the elaborate pranks in your previous endeavors, but this was an idea that you couldn’t help him bring to life.

 ————-

 “So why are you doing this song? Any… special reason for it?”

 Tony was glad to help Pete with his plan, but the fact the teen had chosen this song made him realize two things: one, you and Peter were the culprits behind the hacking of his suit as well as the mods on Clint’s arrows; and two, Peter was completely and utterly in love with you, whether the kid knew it or not.

 Peter’s cheeks tinted at the question, not wanting to give the whole truth but also not wanting to expose the both of you. So he settled for a middle ground and hoped that Tony didn’t completely see through it. “It’s a song that means a lot to both of us, and it’s also a promise of sorts.”

 Tony could tell that he was a bit reserved about telling much more and so the tycoon let it drop, favoring to work in silence (well, almost silence if you count the Rick Astley hit playing occasionally).

 ————-

 Friday night, and you were all alone. Everyone that was normally at home with you had something better to occupy their time, leaving you to your own devices. Peter was out in the city patrolling, Ned was with his parents at some sort of family get-together for the weekend out of state, and MJ had found a way to some protest upstate.

 Right when you get home from school that afternoon, you began to marathon the latest season of GLOW with junk food on standby. This was one of the only shows you didn’t have a binging partner with, so there was no risk of offending any of your friends about watching ahead.

 Just as the third episode was starting to get good, there was a thud against your bedroom window. You found that quite peculiar since you lived on the top floor of a Queens brownstone, so you decide to investigate.

 Resting your laptop beside you, you move aside your curtains and try to see by the streetlamps whether or not there was an animal on the windowsill. Seeing nothing, you head back to your bed. Right when you pick up your laptop, you hear it again.

 Of course.

 Groaning as you set your laptop back down on the bed, you open your window once again and this time, you take a better look at your surroundings. You looked beside your windows and found nothing, but when you looked down, there was Peter in front of… a car?

 When did Peter get a car?!

 You were about to ask him that very question when your eyes caught a metallic glint that certainly wasn’t this random car. It was a boombox, and when he saw that you noticed him, he immediately picked it up and pressed ‘play,’ holding it above his head like it was Simba.

 The familiar instrumental nearly made you fall out of the window in laughter. Nothing, however, compared to your amusement when your cheesy ass boyfriend decided to sing along.

 “We’re no strangers to love

You know the rules and so do I

A full commitment’s what I’m thinking of

You wouldn’t get this from any other guy”

 That’s it, everyone else go home. Peter Benjamin Parker was the cutest boyfriend on the planet.

 You could tell Peter was having a great time, his smile nearly taking over his face. He was wearing jeans and a sweater over his Spidey suit (you could see the telltale red on his hands and wrists and he wasn’t wearing shoes), and his hair was tousled from what you assumed to be his mask. ‘He must have stopped at your house mid-patrol,’ you realize with a smile.

 “I just wanna tell you how I’m feeling

Gotta make you understand”

 Before he gets to the chorus, he sets the boombox back on top of the car’s hood and begins to dance… if you could call it that. It was honestly just a very spot-on copy of Rick’s swaying thing that he did the entire video. You honestly didn’t care how he moved about; this was the cheesiest thing you had ever seen, and it was your boyfriend doing it! Peter, the biggest, cuddly dork you knew, was doing this for you.

 Obviously he chose this song because of your pranking endeavors from the past few weeks, but it was more than RickRolling the Avengers.

 “Never gonna give you up

Never gonna let you down

Never gonna run around

And desert you!

Never gonna make you cry

Never gonna say goodbye

Never gonna tell a lie

And hurt you!”

 Peter kept swaying and singing, completely ignoring the yelling and hollering from your neighbors about the noise. He kept his eyes on you as he sang along with the hit and you couldn’t even bring yourself to care about the people outside of your little bubble with Pete. Part of you dared one of your neighbors to call the cops because what were they going to do, arrest Spider-Man?

 Once he finished, you immediately left your window and ran downstairs. Peter was leaning against the mystery car, just waiting for you to run up to him. You did, predictably, and instead of staying outside in the cold, you pulled him inside of your brownstone and didn’t let him leave your side the rest of the night.

[itsgonnabe-brian-may]

You’re Just Being Nice

Requested by: @finnofamerica : 

I was wondering if I could get a Brian x reader kinda slow burn where the reader is a musician, but she's also the audio tech helping them with their album? She kinda awkward, but she gets all wistful and starry-eyed (bouncing unabashedly when she gets excited) when she talks about music and bounces ideas off of them. Thank you so much in advance, even if you don't feel the inspiration. ❤❤

I literally am so happy that you wanted little ol me to write this, it was an absolute pleasure and so much fun! I hope you like it and it does your idea justice :) 

Brian May x Reader

wc: 2.7k words

Warnings: some swear words and kissing but other than that none

// 

Oh, the 70's. The time where everybody wanted to be a rockstar. Or more they just wanted to live the lifestyle. Hot chicks, booze, drugs, music and the thrill of being on stage in front of a crowd sounded appealing to anyone in their right mind. However, the hard work and dedication it took to get there sounded anything but appealing. You and a few other hopefuls didn't mind. Gladly you poured your entire soul into the shot at being able to make it big. Being brought up in a family that was supportive sure helped, but that didn't mean they paid for your expensive recording sessions and gig fees. That money came from hard work from odd jobs. You had been a barista, bartender, door holder, waitress, busboy, elevator operator, guitar stringer, music store clerk, shoe store restocker and about twenty more jobs that offered any sort of cash fast. Nothing really stuck, now you were on the hunt to find a longer lasting job, hopefully in the music industry, that you could keep while recording your first album with your band. You were over the moon excited that you finally had a band that stuck together for longer than six months and the other 4 members were an absolute dream to work with.

There was Mark, a long-haired hippie who absolutely killed it on bass guitar. Then Sandy, who was the lead singer and always made sure that her outfit matched her eyeshadow, which was impressive with the multicolored outfits she sported. Rene was next, he was the only one who could play the drums and make it match any emotion, he could even make you cry. On the keys and sometimes guitar was Ricky, he was kind of the oddball of the group with a clean haircut that looked so professional that people were always surprised to find out he was in the band, not the manager. You guys had definitely taken advantage of that a few too many times. And last but not least there was you, Y/N. The starry-eyed and unapologetically enthusiastic guitarist and back up singer after some persuading, and maybe a few beers. 

Your job hunted ended when you reached a small recording studio that had a "help wanted" flyer hanging to the telephone pole outside by one staple. You walked in just as 4 men walked out, babbling something about a perfectly good van. 

By the end of an interview, you had scored a better deal than you had imagined. You would help out as an audio tech for the late night bands and your band would get the first slot in the morning to record, after a few months of working hard. 

That is exactly what you did. You started out shadowing and watching the other audio techs work and fiddle with the sounds. Never quite sure of what to do or what to say, you came off as the cute shy and awkward girl who stood in the back. At least that's how Queen would describe you when they encountered you. 

You didn't really meet them until a month after you started working. The head audio tech had to leave early so you were left to wrap up. Giving them a small smile you continued to do what the other tech was doing. Except Freddie wasn't having any of it. He was growing bored and started prompting you randomly about your opinions on the piece or on music in general. 

Your eyes lit up each time you got the opportunity to talk. Answering with well thought out and enthusiastic statements. Eventually, Brian joined in on the questions. The questions weren't all about music, but most of them got tied back to music. Roger and John joined in and it turned into a game of asking and answering all sorts of questions until their time slot was up. 

You worked with them until they had released their first album, you were even invited to their celebration party. By the time the party was in full swing, you were kind of done with the loud music and alcohol-fueled chaos. Grabbing your half-empty beer bottle you headed outside to get some desperately needed fresh air. To your surprise you found Brian leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, glass in one hand, staring out into the early morning sky. 

"What are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be inside celebrating your success?" You hummed leaning against the same wall next to him. 

"Just getting some air, And shouldn't I say the same to you? We wouldn't have an album without you," Brian responded, his voice slightly tired and raspy from the cool summer air. 

"You're just being kind, It's hard work to get as far as you guys have, give yourself some credit," 

"Now your being kind," Brian chuckled and turned his head to look at you. 

You laughed in return and the small talk turned into a deep conversation that leads you to abandon your beers and sit on the step back up to the house. Both of you were only looking at each other's eyes as you talked. You noticed how Brian's dilated when he was talking about his guitar and ideas that he had for music. Brian noticed how yours caught the moonlight and shimmered as you went on about techniques and riff's that blew your mind. To be honest he would have been lost in your eyes like he was in the sky if he wasn't so interested in what you were saying. 

"God, I would love to work on an album from start to finish," You dreamed out loud, your smile wide and your mind caught up in playing out the dream.

"Then do our next album," Brian blurted out. 

"You're just saying that Bri, I'm not nearly talented enough to do that," 

"You certainly are, sweetheart," He smiled back. 

"I'll only go if the other's say it's okay, I'd hate to be intrusive," You laughed off the offer not expecting their answer to actually be yes. 

That's how you ended up standing in the recording booth on Ridge Farm. Well not exactly. That's how you ended up as the head audio tech on Bohemian Rhapsody. How you ended up with a guitar on the other side of the glass was another story. 

-

Queen was weeks over schedule and everyone's patience was clearly wearing thin. John kept fumbling up bass lines where Fred couldn't hit the notes every time. Roger had broken most of the drum sticks, you teased that he would have to break some sticks off of the tree's to be able to play. Even the man who you had become so fascinated with and believed was perfect couldn't figure it out.

At first, he was fumbling with hitting some of the higher notes. Then he could barely get a simple riff right. Strings of swear words made the recording stop rather than the missed note. His brow was furrowed with frustration rather than concentration. The sweat collected on his forehead, glistening in the right lighting.

"Fuck," Brian cursed brashly for what seemed like the millionth time. 

"Don't you think a break is in order?" Fred asked into the mic gently, not wanting to cause Brian more anger and frustration. 

"No, I've got it, roll it one more time," He snapped back shaking out his hands and starting up again. 

Unsurprisingly he did not have it that time, or the next, or the next 8 times after that. 

"Come on Bri your nearly there, maybe take it a little slower-" You offered hesitantly into the mic.

You had been given the okay to give feedback whenever you felt like it by the boys in a unanimous vote. Yet, you rarely did, you didn't feel like it was your place to criticize one of the best bands of all time. Normally you would say something to Brian to bring up when they met together all alone. 

Brian just shot you a look filled with daggers and you put your hands up in surrender. 

He ended up playing faster than before, meaning he messed up sooner and got even more upset. The rest of the boys weren't about to say anything as Brian restarted for the actual millionth time. They didn't want an angry Brian, it was always best to let him cool off on his own. You, however, were worried and didn't want him to keep suffering. 

"Brian, Stop," You said harshly into the mic cutting him off before he could mess up again. 

"What the hell Y/N, I had it this time," Brian said throwing his hands up from his guitar. He was angry and didn't care that it was you. 

"You said that the last 300 times, you need to slow down and take a break," You reasoned, your tone becoming softer and caring rather than confrontational. 

"Then you fucking do it, Y/N, I'd like to see you try," Brian snapped, his body language backed up the challenge he was offering. 

The next thing you knew you were standing with all your weight on one foot with Brians prized guitar in your hands. The other boys clearly intrigued at what was going on had stood up to watch through the glass. Roger wore a smug smirk

"Here goes nothing," you muttered to yourself as you plucked the first few cords. 

Getting lost in the music your head bobbed up and down as your fingers danced on the strings delicately. Your eyes snapped shut as you neared the spot where Brian kept messing up. Instead of speeding up, you held a note longer and added a nice vibrato to the string to create a sense of anticipation before quietly starting the tricky riff. As your fingers moved in unison you strummed harder gradually increasing the volume as you reached the end of the difficult section. Opening your eyes you bopped around slightly finishing up the song. 

"Ta-da," You said with a straight face before erupting in laughter. 

Your laughter lit up the room and all the frustrations where gone. The rest of the band stared at you in awe, they knew you were talented but had no idea you could play that well. Brian had to full on stop himself for running in there and picking you up in a hug. 

"Y/N! That was bloody brilliant!" Roger said, regretting the attitude he gave you earlier. 

"Seriously, where'd you learn to play like that?" Brian asked as you put his guitar gently back on its stand. 

"You're not the only aspiring rock stars boys, girls can have some fun too," you laughed joining them on the other side of the glass.

"Maybe you should replace Brian," John teased with a grin that made his eyes crinkle. 

"Nonsense," you laughed. 

"Why don't you give it a shot Bri, try to outshine me," 

"I would never dream of that love," Brian smiled back, finding himself looking back into your starry eyes. 

"Oi, maybe quit flirting and try to play before we really do replace you," Roger called nodding his head in the direction of the booth. 

Brian just rolled his eyes and walked into the booth. Picking up his guitar and began playing, trying to match what you had just done. Obviously, he put his own spin on it but it was the only take needed and his section was done. You told him it was because he finally took a break and listened to your advice to slow down, but he knew it was because your fingers had somehow blessed his guitar. 

Naturally, the other boys wanted the same special attention you gave to Brian over the next couple days you bounced ideas back and forth for each of their parts for the remaining songs. Because of you, the album was finally almost finished. All that was left was the ridiculous amount of Galileos left for Roger to sing. 

"Higher," 

"Jesus how many more do you want," 

"Just one more," 

"Who even is he?" 

"Just one more Rog, do it for me," You sang into the intercom. 

He just rolled his eyes and attempted it one last time.

"Perfect!, Now pan it right and left," You told the other audio tech, who had pretty much just become your assistant, even though he was technically your superior. 

"Right, now let's listen to it?" You asked the rest of the boys once Roger had joined you again. 

They nodded and you pressed the play button with an audible click before the track started rolling. 

It wasn't long before you were bouncing up and down along with the beat. Brian watched with amusement as he rocked back and forth with the wails of his guitar. Everyone was anticipating their parts and grinning like mad when they heard how good it sounded along with the other parts. The last strokes of the piano sent them into a cheered frenzy. 

"That was brilliant!!" Brian called, this time not hesitating to pick you up and spin you around in a celebratory hug. You squealed in surprise and wrapped your arms around him to steady yourself. Once he put you down, Freddie pulled you into another celebratory hug, but the feeling was different. Shortly after, you felt the arms of the other boys around you as they closed in with a group hug. 

"Well done boys, I really mean it!" You grinned excitedly. 

"You too Y/N, we couldn't have done it without you," John said pulling you into a hug of his own. 

None of you guys could wipe the smile off of your faces on your way back to the house, or at dinner. The smiles were still there the next morning at breakfast and while you were packing up instruments and equipment and lugging it into you're equipment van. Brian had offered to drive it back so you could sleep on the bus. 

"Brian, you're just being nice," You said shaking your head at his off his offer.

"I can drive back on my own," 

"I know sweetheart, but I want to help out, you've done so much for us already," He argued lightly taking a step closer to the van and you. 

Your heart soared at the nickname but didn't get too distracted by it. 

"It's really nothing Bri, I'm happy to do it," You smiled.

"especially for you," You muttered under your breath before you could stop yourself. 

"Now you're the one just being nice," He smirked, blushing slightly at what you had said. 

"Really? How's that?" You prompted, your voice intertwined with a mischievous smile. 

"Especially for you... I heard that sweetheart," He said taking a hesitant step forward, closing the gap between the two of you. 

You gasped slightly, your face contorting with embarrassment. 

"You weren't meant to hear that part..." you said looking at your feet.  

Brian stayed silent, which caused you to look up at him. His eyes met yours and you knew exactly what he was going to do next, so it didn't surprise you that he reached out and delicately cupped your cheek. You met him by leaning forwards, lips meeting his in a soft spark. His lips were soft against your slightly chapped ones, but it didn't matter it felt amazing. You smiled softly against his lips before pulling away gently.

Brian's eyes filled with amusement with a tinge of concern. 

"You're going to tell me I'm just being nice aren't you," He mused looking at you trying to gauge your reaction. 

"No, I was going to tell you that it was really nice and would be nice if we could keep doing that," You smiled back.

"Now you're really just being nice," He teased.

You playfully pushed his shoulder away from you, laughing at his remark.

"If I was I wouldn't do this again would I?" You said before leaning in again kissing him with a little more passion than before.

"You're definitely riding with her if all your going to do it make out in the back!" Roger called as the rest of the band walked out and with their final bags in tow.  

"Oh, I was already planning on it Rog, we have at least a little decency." Brian teased opening the passenger side door for you before hopping in the driver's side.

Once you were in and the other van started down the dirt and gravel road Brian interlaced his fingers with your and started back to London with the success of a new album and scoring you as his girlfriend. At the moment he wasn't sure which was better, but it turned out to be you. 

[nvcl347]

It was completely fine at first. People were still having a blast at their success of the charity, and holiday cheer had been spread throughout the entire community. The theorists were unsettled by some hints here and there for the most part, but the celebration made them slack a little and brush off the hints and worries with a little more leniency. It was all going just fine.

The large community calendar was marked to the one year anniversary of the Overnight watch, and everyone went to work with fanart, theories new and old, and overall recollection of the restless night they all had together. For the theorists, however, it wasn't just an anniversary. It was a waiting game.

Something had to happen.

Something must be hinted at.

Something.

Then, that's when the screen flashed, and everyone froze in their stance.

* A new Instagram story has been posted.

Everyone shot up from where they were and sprinted to the large screen in excitement, dread, and wonder, some whispering among themselves of ideas, while others just stared without a word.

The screen flickered for a moment before the image finally appeared, and everyone's heart in the room dropped. Some gasps could be heard throughout the crowd as others' mouths were agape in surprise.

"Just trying out a new filter maybe? It shows its just a filter." Someone called out, but the majority knew better.

"Too coincidental at that. I'm pretty sure he'd be well aware that this could- no, not even could, would flare us up a bit, if not intentional for the Egos." It was what the most were thinking.

"It's about time we got something as a sign today. I knew he couldn't keep entirely quiet for long." Someone mumbled.

"Alright, there's nothing much we can go off of here, everyone can go back to whatever they're doing. The theorists can inspect the photo more in-depth in the meantime. We'll be sure to let you all know if we find anything." The lead theorist spoke up.

There was no "official" theorist of top priority, in reality, but this was the theorist who's assumptions and predictions most commonly were plausible- and sometimes even true, which was why the community held so much trust into whatever they thought up of, whilst still keeping some optimism- of course.

And at that, everyone returned to what they were doing as suggested. The only difference was the theorists now had something to finally put their minds to.

"No audio?"

"Nope, just a still image."

They chattered among themselves with ideas, pointing out his facial expressions, clothing, anything they could snatch onto, but nothing was really adding up to anything conclusive. It was just one lost, isolated piece of an unfathomable puzzle. The theorists inspecting the image simply scratched their heads.

"I hate to just sit here like a duck, but I have no idea what to go off of this."

"A warning perhaps!"

"A big appearance coming soon?" The theorists branched off one another's ideas.

"I wouldn't guarantee it. For now, I'd stay alert. A little more than we have recently... we let our guards down for less than a weak and the fucker is already racking up his chance to hit us in our weak spot." The lead theorist began to talk to themselves a little.

"He may be a little crazy, but he's pretty damn smart too."

-

* A new Instagram story has been posted.

Once again, everyone ran up to the big screen, but the theorists were the first to be there. The feeling of anticipation completely filled the room with everyone in it. The community watched the post silently.

It was nothing but a black screen. By the end of it, it had sparked more confusion than it did fear. The lead theorist realized something in their head after a moment.

"It's the speakers. Turn on the speakers!"

The speakers were plugged in, and the volume was thoroughly tested. It was all good to go.

"Play it again."

The story was played once again, and this time, most shuddered in fear, some screamed, others shouted.

Silent night. The ominous, monotone, glitchy Silent Night straight out of Overnight Watch. One verse. And then it ended. The community lost its mind.

"Well, somebody didn't seem to forget, huh?" A few theorists spoke under their breaths.

Quickly, everyone returned to what they were doing once again, exceptionally shaken up a little. That definitely was no coincidence, they knew now. Everyone was on high alert, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. They were all paranoid at that point.

But, surprisingly, nothing new really happened for the rest of the day. No more signs emerged, no hints sprouted up, nothing. The upload was completely normal, which was a slap on the back especially for most of the theorists.

"At least Jack acknowledged it at some point today though." Someone mentioned.

"I wonder... what if it would've been better off not being acknowledged by him at all."

"We would've gotten sparked up either or. The anticipation is what gets us all."

For the rest of the night, most artists had finished their anniversary drawings, writers had published their stories, and edits were uploaded. It was a sigh of relief to most, but it prepared none of them for what would occur the very next day.

-

(Open to reblog continuation!)

[livinglikearoyal]

BTS Drabble/Imagine: Truth (Yoongi)

Member: Yoongi

Prompt(s): Angst/Smut (Drabble Challenge)

20) You say you don’t want to, but I know you’re lying.

                                         and

59) Call me that one more time, see what happens.

Requested by: anon

Summary: Long distance relationships can be tough. They can be even tougher when you’re finally right next to each other.

They warned you. All of them. Your friends, your family, random co-workers...everyone warned that long distance relationships are nearly impossible and they only end in heartbreak. You didn’t take their words to heart because you knew that the two of you were different. You were 100% confident that you could make it work, living across the globe from each other.

Were.

The first year of your relationship with Yoongi was great. He was busy, busier than ever before, but he always found time to talk with you. Texts. Phone calls. Video calls. Letters. Emails. Audio files sent in the middle of the night. Snapchat streaks.The two of you didn’t go a day without connecting and making plans to see or speak to each other again. You traveled when you could to see him and he did the same to come see you. It worked. It worked really well. He was your rock and you were his.

Now, you aren’t so sure.

It started a few months ago. Yoongi gradually started contacting you less frequently. When you tried to contact him, he often said he was busy and couldn’t talk for more than a few minutes or just wouldn’t answer. When asked about it later, he made up some excuse about what he had been doing even though you knew it wasn’t completely true based on your conversations with the other guys. From what they told you, in the most indirect ways, he was avoiding you. This continued for a couple months...conversations only when he couldn’t find an excuse to get out of them. Even after asking him what was wrong, he just said “nothing” and you were at a loss about how to fix the two of you. Your best idea was to take some time off of work and visit Yoongi for a few weeks, which is why you currently found yourself in South Korea with him. Or at least at his place...he isn’t home.

You arrived several days ago to a grinning Taehyung picking you up from the tiny airport. After he dropped you off, you walked through Yoongi’s door, only to find the entire place empty. Since then, you have only seen Yoongi at night, long past what would be considered a “normal” bedtime. He would come into the bedroom quietly, get changed, take his place on his side of the bed, and curl up facing away from you. This is what hurt the most. You understood he was busy with the final stages of making an album, but even when he was able to be around you physically, he acted like you weren’t even here. It was like you were invisible.

So, it definitely came as a surprise when he came walking in the door before dinner and took a seat on a bar stool in the kitchen so he could watch you prepare the meal.

“You’re home early.”

“Yeah, I thought we could spend the evening together.” He says with a soft smile.

“Really? I’d like that. Do you want anything special for dinner? I can always add something.”

“No, just cook what you were already planning. I’m going to hop in the shower before we eat though.”

“Okay.”

As he left the room, you were left with a hopeful feeling. Maybe you could get him back tonight! But then, the little voice in the back of your head piped up, turning that hopeful feeling into a hopeless one. What if it’s too late? Nothing you’ve tried has worked so far. He must not love you anymore and you can’t make someone love you. Everyone was right.

Pushing that thought away, you finish preparing dinner. Yoongi comes back right as you are finishing placing the food on the table, ready to be eaten. You both take a seat and start dishing food onto your plates.

The room is silent. You are normally okay with silence, especially around Yoongi, but not this time. In the past, the silence between the two of you brought comfort. A sense of knowing each other so well that you don’t need words.

This silence was torture.

So, you decide to break it. You ask Yoongi about his day. He talks about how the group had several interviews and a photo shoot that day, but it was a day that wasn’t too bad.

You ask him about his family. He fills you in on his latest phone call with his parents, talking about how their business is booming and that they hope to see you for the holidays.

You tell him that you’d like that. You miss them. You miss him.

He gives a half smile and the silence commences again.

That is until his phone buzzes in his pocket with a text. He glances down at his pocket, appraising whether it was worth looking at or not. The only sound for the next several minutes was the clinking of silverware against plates.

“You can look at it, you know.” You say to him, gesturing to his phone.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I can tell it is driving you crazy.”

He takes the phone out of his pocket, looks at the message, up at you, and then back at the message before turning the screen off and setting it on the table.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Yoongi.”

“Really, it’s nothing.”

“Why are you lying?”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. I can tell by the way you aren’t looking at me.”

He looks up.

“Fine. Namjoon says that one of the songs that we’ve been working on came back and it wasn’t approved but he thinks it is worthy of the album so he wants me to come back in to reconstruct it so that it might be added.”

“I thought the album was done?”

“Almost. There are a few things that aren’t like we want yet. You know Namjoon gets sucked into the work and wants everything to be perfect.”

“So do you.”

“I suppose so.”

“You should go.”

“What?”

“You should go to Namjoon. It’s not like we’re doing anything.” You sigh, feeling defeated. You can tell that the conversation before the text wasn’t going to go in a direction to fix your relationship. It didn’t even seem like Yoongi noticed that you were upset.

“We were going to spend the evening together.”

“Doing what? Sitting in silence. Staring at each other? Avoiding the tough questions?”

“Tough questions?”

“Go to the studio. Help Namjoon.”

“I don’t want to.”

You look at him, eyebrow raised.

“You’re lying again.”

His phone buzzes yet again.

“Go.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Yes, you do.”

“When did you become a lie detector test?” his voice begins to become a bit harsher.

“Since I had to start reading between the lines to figure out what is going on with my boyfriend!” Your voice increases in volume. Your frustration is at its peak. “Since my boyfriend stopped talking to me. Since…”

“I’m talking to you now,” he counters sourly.

“Only because you have to! Because I’m right here! If I were still at home, I wouldn’t hear from you for days at a time! Even since I’ve been here, today is the first day we’ve said more than hello or goodnight! Even then, you haven’t shown any interest in me or what is going on in my life. We used to tell each other EVERYTHING! You always used to answer when I called or texted, even if it was a few hours late. You always told me the truth. That was what we did. We told the truth. We talked!  It changed months ago.  Months, Yoongi! That is why I have had to become a lie detector test,” you spat, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been trying to figure you out. Why you haven’t wanted to speak with me when I call. Why you come up with excuses. You’ve turned into a liar, Yoongi. I know you aren’t busy every time I call.”

“Call me that one more time, see what happens,” his voice is low; he probably intends it to be intimidating. You know he is lying yet again though; it is an empty threat.

“What?  A liar? You are! You have lied multiple times just tonight! About little things. Such stupid things!  Like going to the studio. You say you don’t want to, but I know you’re lying. You always want to go to the studio. That is your comfort zone. Your safe haven. The fact that you would lie about something as obvious as that makes me question…”

You look down at the table, tears coming to your eyes but not falling as your voice grows quiet.

“It makes me question if you were lying the last time you said you loved me.”

Unsurprisingly, another pregnant silence follows your final statement. All that can be heard are your sniffles and Yoongi’s phone buzzing on the table top.

“Go.”

“No.”

“Go.”

“No.” He reaches to his phone, quickly turning it off, eyes remaining on you.

All you can hear is the wall clock ticking in the next room.

“Do you really think I don’t love you?” His voice is small. So small, that you almost don’t hear him.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “I don’t know what to think anymore. I feel like I don’t even know you anymore. I feel like I don’t know us. LIke there is no more us.” You say still looking at the table. You are afraid to look at Yoongi. Afraid to see his face. Afraid to see that all of those thoughts in the back of your mind are true. That this is over. That you are over.

Next thing you know, he is on his knees next to your chair and is lifting your chin up so that your eyes meet his.

“Y/N,” his voice cracks as he leans in and places the softest of kisses on your lips. When he opens his eyes, you see all of the emotions that he struggles to express in any way other than through his music. You know the emotions because they are the same that are reflected in your eyes right now. 

Heartbreak. Doubt. Fear. 

“Y/N,” He repeats, voice still full of emotion, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t lie.”

He takes a deep breath, seemingly collecting his thoughts. The few seconds feel like an eternity.

“You’re right. I’ve lied. I’ve lied to you too many times. I have been avoiding your calls. I have been coming up with excuses. Because the person I love most in the world is on the other end of the line.”

He pauses.

“I’m scared. I have never felt as strongly about someone as I do you. Ever. It is terrifying.” He brings his hands to yours.

“I wasn’t avoiding you to hurt you. I wasn’t lying because of that. It was because I was terrified. I am terrified. Terrified of falling so hard and not being caught before shattering. Terrified of what I was feeling.”

His hands tighten around yours and he looks you straight in the eyes.

“I was horrified that I would hurt the person I love most. My career isn’t conducive to a serious relationship. I’m probably the worst person at relationships in the world. And we live on opposite sides of the planet!  I was worried that what everyone said was true; this relationship would end in heartbreak. That I would be the one to ruin it or be ruined by it.”

“Yoongi,” you start. The tears you’ve been holding back all evening finally break loose.

“I didn’t realize,” he continues. “I didn’t realize what I was doing, avoiding you, not at first. I just couldn’t bring myself to answer the phone or your text because I thought I’d say the wrong thing. That I’d find out that you didn’t feel the same way that I did. That I’d be the reason why our relationship would crumble. That was my worst fear, messing up what we had.”

He takes a moment to take in your appearance--tear stained cheeks, puffy eyes, slumped shoulders -- then removes his hands from yours, leaving them cold and abandoned in your lap. His eyes move to the floor.

“It looks like my worst fear has come to haunt me, because of how much I tried to avoid it. How ironic.”

“Yoongi.”

He is stuck in his head; no doubt calling himself every name under the sun and a few others that are authentic to the man himself.

“Yoongi.”

He looks up. The forlorn look on his face makes your heart, which already feels like it is being used as a stress ball, drop to your stomach and come up into your throat at the same time.

“Thank you for telling the truth.” You say, looking him directly in the eye. After a moment, you lean in. Not close enough for your lips to touch, but close enough for him to recognize what you want in that moment. What you need.

He gets it.

He closes the distance within seconds. The kiss is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. It is a kiss of contradiction. It is hesitant yet eager. Passionate yet restrained. Cautious yet certain. Apologetic yet demanding. Soft touches on your skin. Firm pressure on your lips. He breaks away first, but he only leans back enough for your lips to not be interconnected. His forehead is against yours, nose to nose, hands running up and down your arm and neck.

“I wasn’t lying.” He confidently whispers.

You lean back, the unsaid question apparent in your eyes.

“I wasn’t lying, Y/N. I love you. I love you so much more than I have ever loved anyone. I can’t imagine a world without you next to me. Even when we are in different countries, different continents, I feel more connected to you than anyone in the same room as me. I feel more connected to you than I do myself. I could never lie about loving you because there is no way that I will ever not love you. I love you, Y/N. Please tell me I haven’t destroyed everything.”

You capture his lips in yours again. Placing both of your hands on his cheeks, you look into hesitant eyes.

“I love you. Your heart. Your mind. Your talent. Your imperfections.You are my person, Yoongi. I came halfway around the world for you and I would go greater distances without hesitation.   I forgive you because I get what you’re feeling. What you described… is exactly how I feel. This... love...us...is terrifying. It is the most frightening thing I’ve ever experienced.  I’ve got you though. I won’t let you shatter. And I trust you to catch me. I trust us to catch each other. I trust that we will do everything within our power to make this work.”

“Long distance relationships suck.”

“You’re telling me,” you say with a chuckle. “But we can do this.”

“How can you be so confident after everything?” He questions.

“We love each other. We have done this, the long distance thing. We just need to get back on the right track. We need to tell the truth, no matter how hard it may be. We need to talk to each other about our joys and our worries. All we need is…”

“Each other,” Yoongi whispers as he leans in for a kiss. This one is much less confusing than the last. This kiss is reassuring, hopeful, and certain. This is a kiss that holds all of the unspoken promises for the future.

“Each other,” you repeat in Yoongi’s ear as he starts to kiss his way down your jaw and onto your neck.

~~~~~~~~

It doesn’t take long before you find yourself in that same bed that felt so cold and empty for the past few nights. Only now it is warm, comforting, and filled with unreserved expressions of love.

“You are my everything,” Yoongi whispers as he runs his index finger up and down your bare upper arm.

Smiling into his chest you reply, “I know.�� You pull him impossibly closer. 

“How?” His low voice rumbles. 

“Because this lie detector can tell that you’re telling the truth,” you murmur sleepily.

Chuckling, he kisses the top of your head.

“Forever and always, Y/N.”

A/N: Wow...this one got away from me. I had the hardest time starting this. I really wanted to write a fluffy piece when I saw these 2 prompts, but the request was for angst/smut so I needed to change my mindset. After I started, it just flowed. I didn’t go too much into the smutty realm at all...I feel like the angst ruled this one. I hope that is okay! I’ve said it once and I’ll probably say it every time, I love writing Yoongi.

Please let me know what you think! More writing coming soon! 

Ask ● Master List ● Latest Drabble Challenge

[44dagainagain]

Supplementary materials for KWLUG LMMS Presentation

I gave a presentation at KWLUG this month about LMMS. Here’s a link to the KWLUG site which embeds the recording: https://kwlug.org/node/1250

This post includes supplementary materials.

First, here’s a link to download the slides: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1r5367PwFZ5y1ZHrW4dJ9Xo-64-xhc22S/view?usp=sharing

Second, here’s an annotated project file for the song that I demonstrated called Lazy Days. This should work with LMMS 1.2.2. I’ve licensed it under CC-BY 4.0, so have fun with it: https://drive.google.com/file/d/17fka1JCFu2qTXbBhXLA8zQm_OibTPnU5/view?usp=sharing

Finally, what follows is the text of the script I was reading. It’s not a 1:1 transcription due to ad-libbing and general waffling but it’s pretty close. I refer to the slides a lot so you might want to keep those open in another tab. The scripted portion goes from the start of the presentation to the beginning of the demo...

The Script

Hey so, I’m Michael Hitchens. I’m a Software Developer by day but hobby musician by night. I sing, play the piano and (really, only recently) is when I’ve started to compose. Composition has been one of those areas that bounced off me for a while until, one day, it just clicked. (This was my quarantine hobby btw) So I’m hoping that, if you’re in the same predicament, then this talk can maybe help it click for you too.

Now, while this is a talk primarily about the program LMMS, I do need to cover some groundwork as well, just to get the most out of the program.

What is LMMS?

LMMS is a digital audio workstation (shortened D-A-W, or more commonly pronounced “daw” (like in “dawn”)). The jargon means that this program was designed to assist in making music, in much the same way that CAD programs assist in designing objects.

On the slides I’ve included a link to the docs because, even though they’re a bit out of date in places, they’re actually pretty well written. Most of my demo is based around them.

There’s also this sharing platform. Now, I haven’t used it but it does look cool. Although it also looks relatively unmaintained and, based on the GitHub issues that I’ve read, it might not be the pinnacle of secure database design. Just be warned.

Digital Audio Workstations

If LMMS is a DAW, then no really what is a DAW? DAWs are a lot like non-linear video editors. You can record and produce multiple bits of audio then mix and match and layer and rework and filter all to your heart’s content, and all without leaving the DAW.

The modern DAW is decades in the making. It’s the culmination of music industry tech and secrets. What if I told you that you could have all the power in this room-sized mixer in your laptop? And more? Oh year and this is just a mixer! DAWs are also a synthesizer, a sequencer, a, a rhythm machine, a recorder, an amp, a cabinet? It’s incredible

Now, the history of audio recording at large (which I’ve entirely left out of this presentation because 40 minutes tic toc) is important in-so-far as you realize that DAWs still crib the aesthetic and mimic the functionality of the analogue systems from days of yore. For example, let’s look at these illustrative LMMS screenshots. The mixer on the bottom-left uses sliders but the instrument volume control on the top-left uses knobs. Why? Well because that’s what they look like on a real mixing board. Why do the synthesizer interfaces on the right all use knobs? Because that’s what eurorack synthesizers look like. Understanding these traditions and embracing them can explain some headscratchers. (For the record, this is one of the reasons that DAWs in general bounced off me for a while)

Other modern DAWS include:

Cubase

GarageBand

Logic Pro

Ableton Live

FL Studio

Pro Tools

(my personal favourite) Reaper

There’s probably a bunch of others I’m missing but they’re all similar at this point. You pick one, you learn it, you use it ‘til you die. These are first-rate packages but they’re also inaccessible mainly due to their high price tags. These things cost up to a thousand dollars. (I’m fudging the numbers here a bit for effect, aside from the Apple products there’s a whole bunch of tiering and stuff they do. Like I got Reaper for $60) On top of that, they have an incredibly steep learning curve. That’s not to say LMMS is a cake walk in comparison, but it does get a hell of a lot more complicated.

(For the record, if I had a Mac, I would totally use GarageBand. It’s actually really really good. The interface is easy to understand and the preset synthesizers and drums sound amazing.)

LMMS is a lot like other DAWs but I’ve found that it has several glaring limitations:

There is no mic recording. There’s no way to hit a record button and record a mic directly into LMMS. Every mainstream DAW has this ability and its clearly missing here

You can import and play samples, but they’re hard to manipulate. They feel much more like discrete static objects rather than pools of PCM data that you can mix and match and blend with other samples. Again, every other mainstream DAW does this well

So that’s not to say LMMS isn’t good, you just have to realize what it’s good for:

Synthesized

MIDI-based

Judicious use of samples (e.g. drums)

(slightly) more intuitive interface

Drag ‘n drop, works out of the box

Music Notation and Music Theory

Two more topics before I get to LMMS.

As much as I want to go over the fine details of the harmonic stylings of 18th century dead white dudes, there’s too much to cover in a 40 minute presentation. I will cover a few fundamentals though because it will give us a convenient and widely used way to communicate about a rather abstract idea. But it is gonna be pretty technical and it’s gonna go pretty fast, so strap in.

The classical way of conveying music information is on a staff, shown here, but I’m not going to go into that too much because LMMS doesn’t directly use it. If you want something tailored to music notation, use MuseScore instead.

However, it uses a similar concept called the piano roll, the image on the right. These two images are equivalent.

Music (as it’s valued by our culture) is a collection of notes (labelled here) on two axes: time and pitch. (Think of it like a 2D graph.)

The Y axis consists of notes from a piano arranged from low (bassy, gravelly, earthy, etc) to high (harsh, shrill, piercing). Humans hear from around 20Hz to 20000hz. (The distance between each note is consistently a semitone, you can look this up later). You can describe these notes by their frequency (for example 440hz) but its more common to use note name (for example A4). (Also something to look up later, valid note names are ABCDEFG, then it repeats. It’s modular arithmetic!)

On the X dimension, notes are read over time from left to right. The basic unit of time is a beat, commonly delineated with vertical bars (which I’ve exaggerated in red here). How fast a “beat” is depends on the tempo. This is measured in beats per minute or BPM. 120 BPM is fairly common, which is nice because it neatly divides into 2 beats a second, or 500ms per beat. To stay on beat, musicians use a metronome. The metronome produces a tone each beat which the musician anticipates or reacts to when performing. The duration of the note can be a beat, a fraction of a beat, or multiple beats.

Beats can then be grouped into bars. How many beats per bar is determined by the time signature. Common time, or 4/4 puts 4 beats per bar. Bars can then be grouped into phrases, and phrases grouped into sections and sections can be grouped into songs.

Independent of bars, we can consider other groupings of notes. On the pitch dimension, notes that play simultaneously are called chords or harmony. This is a C major chord.

MIDI

Close to the heart of the modern DAWs is MIDI, the musical instrument digital interface. You’re probably already familiar with it, a lot of retro DOS games have a MIDI soundtrack. The interface describes note pitch and duration, then its up to an interpreter like your old SoundBlaster to figure out how to turn the D4 its being told to play into a signal that goes to your speakers. My musical keyboard (the Casio CTK-3000, don’t buy it) speaks MIDI out, which I can hook up as an input to my computer over USB and use my computer as a synthesizer. More importantly, I can record the notes for later use. For some (like me) this is a more intuitive interface for inputting musical ideas. However, DAWs do typically have a way to input notes using mouse+keyboard, using the piano roll interface.

We use MIDI because it’s compact and easy to manipulate in fine detail, unlike RAW audio from a microphone which is bulky and takes a lot of computation to do the most basic processing (though the tech is getting better just not widely accessible, see the product Melodyne).

I gloss over the spec details because the minutiae of the protocol framing and messaging are really not that important to us. All we really need to know is that it’s the format used to record my piano.

(At this point I switched to a live demo, for which I had no script.)

[gameboyrocket]

Splatoon: The Outcasts - Episode 6: “Sound and Fury”

           The popular cultural festival of Inkopolis, Splatfest, has come to an end for now. Divided into two teams, the Inklings of the city duked it out for control of the city’s values, pitting those who prefer punctuality on Team Early Bird against their night-loving opposites, Team Night Owl. Ultimately, after 24 hours of nonstop Turf War battles, the side that took more matches was decided, and the Night Owls were declared victorious. The Outcasts, Inkopolis’ newest group of Turf War rookies, was split two-and-two between the factions, so at least half of the team can celebrate the results in the end.

           Through the challenges and trials of the Splatfest, the Outcasts, while having been temporarily separated, seem to have learned from the experience – Amber, the team captain, has a newfound positivity about her future as a leader; André, the gigantic brawler, has finally reconciled with one of his former teammates on Team Spice Splat; and Marjani and Felicity, the team’s abrasive junkie and her straight-arrow counterpart, have grown closer together and truly become friends. The team, which usually struggles to work together long enough to play the sport, have all been given a new outlook by recent events, and their spirits are finally lifting.

           With the nonstop clamor of the Splatfest having finally died down with the closing ceremonies last night, the Outcasts are regrouping for lunch at their usual hangout, Café Cardamari, along with Marjani’s younger brother, Turf War DJ and habitual flirt Dodge. After spending the previous day playing Turf War while divided between the two sides, they’re all hoping to catch up with each other and discuss the happenings of the festival. The team still has a lot of room to grow, however, and today, the spotlight shines on two of its members who only rarely make an effort to get along with each other, and are about to learn that they have more in common than they’re ready to admit…

SPLATOON: THE OUTCASTS

Episode 6: “Sound and Fury”

           “So Jolokia and I had these guys backed into the corner, right? And Lissy lines up the shot…” Marjani held up her arms as if looking down the sights of a Charger, before mimicking the motion of the recoil of firing, “And I swear, she takes out both of them!” Felicity blushed and giggled. “I keep telling you, Marjie, you got one of them just before I fired,” she insisted. “Sure didn’t seem like it where I was standing,” argued Marjani.

           “You think maybe it was a stray ink bullet from your Splatling?” asked Amber, “Slight shot deviation could account for thinking it wasn’t your ink that did it.” “I’m tellin’ you, Lissy shot through the first guy and hit the second!” Marjani asserted. “Could’ve been Jolokia, too,” added Dodge through a mouthful of donut. “She wasn’t close enough to them!” Marjani maintained, “Why doesn’t anyone fuckin’ believe me?!”

           “Language, Marjie,” Felicity hushed her friend softly. “Chargers can’t do that,” André finally interjected, his arms crossed as his meal was long since finished. “Oh, yeah? And how do you know?” Marjani challenged him, placing one hand on the table, “You weren’t even there, and you use like, the opposite of Chargers!” “Just how they’re designed,” explained André, “Rumor has it Turf War R&D’s working on changing that, but nothing’s on the market yet.”

           “Arrrgh!” a frustrated Marjani finally gave up the argument, going back to eating her meal in defeat. “Aww, cheer up, Marjie,” Felicity tried to console her teammate, putting her hand on Marjani’s shoulder, “I’m sure there’s an explanation for it.” “Yeah, yeah,” muttered Marjani quietly, “I know what I fuckin’ saw…” “So, what about you guys?” asked Dodge, turning to Amber and André, who were seated next to each other, across from their teammates, “Any other good stories?”

           “I dunno, we already told the one where we went up against these two,” replied Amber, “We lost more matches than we won yesterday.” André nodded. “Had a couple of good moments, but I can’t remember them all that well,” he added sternly, furrowing his brow. “How’s that?” asked Dodge, “Last I checked, André, my man, you’ve got a crazy good memory.”

           André shook his head and cleared his throat awkwardly. “It’s, uh… well, there are times where I can’t remember things so well,” he rumbled, “Like when there’s a lot of loud noise, messes with my head, makes it harder to remember anything but the noise later. Still play in Splatfests, but I don’t remember a lot of specifics unless I was focused enough.” “No kiddin’,” replied Dodge with an amazed smirk, “That’s kinda weird.” André simply sighed in response.

           “Is that why you hate loud noises so much?” asked Felicity, concerned with André’s well-being. André nodded. “Yeah, part of it,” he confirmed, “Just bugs me in general.” Marjani perked up as André continued. “Wait!” she blurted suddenly, a little too loudly, causing Felicity to jump slightly in her seat, “Is that why you were complainin’ so much at the opening ceremony?! You wanted to go home because loud noise fucks with your head?”

           “Marjie, language,” whispered Felicity. “I know, I know,” replied Marjani quietly before turning her attention back to her teammate, “Seriously, though?” André rolled his eyes slightly and grimaced. “Yeah,” he sighed, “Nothing special to it.” Marjani grinned. “Shit, and here I thought you were impenetrable,” she quipped. “Hey, now, Sis,” replied Dodge, “You’re the same way; you hate loud noises, too.”

           “It doesn’t make me forget shit, though,” retorted Marjani, “And with you for a brother, ‘course I hate ‘em.” “Hey, my music’s not just loud noise,” argued Dodge. “Oh, yeah?” Marjani smirked as she folded her arms, “Then what about that time you spent four hours playin’ the same damn beat over and over at max volume?” “I-I…!” Dodge’s voice trailed off as he tried and failed to think of a rebuttal to Marjani’s comment, “Th-that was one time! And that’s not even why you hate noise, any–”

           “–Don’t,” Marjani growled loudly, her voice suddenly dropping to an uncharacteristically serious tone, “Don’t bring that up. Not here.” “…Right,” Dodge suddenly grew as solemn as his sister, his expression dropping, “S-sorry, Sis.” The group fell silent as Amber, André, and Felicity exchanged nervous glances. “Y-you know, now that I think about it,” stammered Dodge, before clearing his throat, “I might be able to help you guys with your problem.”

           “How so?” asked André, raising his eyebrow. “Direct confrontation,” replied Dodge, “We get together somewhere, I bring some of the big guns, and we ramp up the volume until we figure out what your limits are. We repeat it as often as we can until you guys can handle more and more volume.” “That’s sounds stupid as hell,” replied Marjani bluntly. “Marjie, language,” Felicity whispered a third time.

           André furrowed his brow pensively. “Stupid, yeah,” he mused, “Stupid enough to work, maybe?” “Aw, c’mon, seriously?” questioned Marjani, “You two can waste your time losin’ your hearin’ tryin’ to do this little therapy thing if you want, but count me out.” “You don’t wanna give it a shot, Sis?” asked Dodge, “At least try it!” Marjani released a grumbling sigh as she rolled her eyes. “Why am I the one who thinks this is never gonna work?” she growled.

           “Just once,” interjected André, “If it doesn’t look like it’s gonna work, we’ll call it quits. It’s no scientifically-proven cure, but Dodge is an audio guy; might be onto something, and you’re not giving him enough credit, as usual.” “Wha–!” Marjani’s jaw dropped incredulously, “I give Dodge credit! I told Lissy the backstage passes were from him, didn’t I?” “Technically, it was Marie who told me,” replied Felicity. Marjani groaned again before finally shrugging. “Fine, we’ll try it,” she gave in, “We doin’ anythin’ else tomorrow?”

           “I’ve got the day off,” confirmed Dodge. “No practice, but we’ve got a match in the afternoon,” added Amber, “And it’s with Spice Splat again. I’m starting to wonder if Caroline’s doing this on purpose, too, the same way she got our teams mixed together for the Splatfest.” “Oh, we could join them!” exclaimed Felicity, “You know, moral support and all that. And then we can all have our strategy meeting right after, right?” “Actually…” replied Amber with a small grin, “I was thinking that if they’re busy with Dodge, you and I could hang out together.” “What would you want to hang out with Lissy for?” asked Marjani nonchalantly.

           “Are we not allowed?” asked Amber, “Just sort of a girl’s day out kind of thing. You know, the kind of stuff you’re not really into.” Marjani glanced back and forth between Felicity and Amber. “B-but Lissy–” she started, before her gaze came to rest on Dodge, realizing that he was out of the loop on Felicity’s secret. “But Lissy what?” Amber smirked as she crossed her arms in victory, taking a small amount of pleasure from seeing her teammate squirm.

           “Alright, fine,” Marjani conceded, “Have your little girly-girl day or whatever. No skin off my nose.” “Yay!” Felicity rejoiced quietly as thoughts of what the morning ahead could hold in store for her and her captain. “Alright, let’s get together outside Inkopolis Tower tomorrow at, say, 9?” asked Dodge. “That early?” asked André, “Sure you won’t need more time to set everything up?”

           “If I say 10, Sis’ll be there at 11,” retorted Dodge, “You know how she is.” “Just had a Splatfest over it,” agreed André. “And we won!” argued Marjani, “Or did you forget that because of all the loud noise?” André shot Marjani an irritable look. “Don’t push it,” he warned her, “Let’s just agree to be there by 9, got it?” “Fine,” agreed Marjani, “No promises, but I’ll put off goin’ to see Spyke until we’re done with this stupid therapy thing.”

           “Great, then it’s settled,” replied Dodge, standing up with his meal tray, “I’m gonna drop by work and see what I can get from the boss in terms of equipment and a nice, quiet, open location for us to do this.” “See you tomorrow, then?” asked André. “Yeah, both of you,” replied Dodge before glancing over to Felicity, “And hopefully you ladies, too?” “Maaaybe,” replied Felicity with a cute smile, “It depends on where we all get together before the match.”

           “Back at my place,” Amber spoke up, “The match is at 4, so let’s be there for the strategy meeting around 3.” “Alright, I’ll see you guys around,” said Dodge, walking away as Marjani rubbed her temples and sighed. “Later, Dodge,” she muttered sluggishly. The four resumed finishing their meal in silence as they each contemplated the day ahead, not knowing for certain what it would bring.

             Marjani sighed as she adjusted the collar on her jacket and tried once more to rub the sleep from her eyes. She wasn’t sure why she’d agreed to Dodge’s suggestion; perhaps André’s willingness to try it had something to do with it. In the time that they had known each other, André had never been particularly thrilled to be her teammate, especially after she’d flown off the handle at everyone following their first loss to Spice Splat. Perhaps she felt obligated to at least try to get on his good side before their next match with the team, but why did she care?

           She, Dodge, and André were all arriving at Blackbelly Skatepark, which was devoid of scheduled matches for the day. Dodge had successfully arranged to get the empty park to themselves, so that they could attempt his harebrained idea of “therapy.” Marjani looked around and breathed a sigh of relief as she realized there was no one else there but them. She couldn’t shake a sinking feeling in her gut that bordered on outright pain, but its source eluded her; she hadn’t even missed breakfast. Worse yet was the familiarity of the sensation.

           “Alright, here we are,” Dodge finally spoke, “A nice, quiet, open place.” He led the two over to a pair of speakers set up on either side of a table where he’d set up his controlling equipment. “Geez, Dodge, you got all this shit out here yourself?” asked Marjani, crossing her arms. “I had some help,” explained Dodge, “My co-workers pitched in. And it ain’t shit.” “Steady work must be nice,” mused André. “Playin’ Turf War would be cool, but even if I could, I wouldn’t give up music,” replied Dodge as he moved around behind the table, “It’s part of my soul, you know?”

           “‘If you could?’” asked André, “…Have you never even tried Turf War?” “Can’t,” replied Dodge as he turned the equipment on, “Don’t have an ink sac. I’m surprised Sis hasn’t told you guys.” “You don’t–?” André stopped himself from repeating Dodge a second time before continuing, “Wow, that’s…” “–Totally normal for me,” interrupted Dodge, shaking his head with a smile to dissuade André from pitying him, “I’ve lived my whole life like this. I got an infection in it before I was even born. The whole thing was necrotic, so they had to cut it out to save my life.”

           “Ever wish you could play Turf War, though?” asked André as he crossed his arms inquisitively. “Course I do,” Dodge affirmed, smirking, “When I was younger, it broke my heart that I’d never be able to play. But I got used to it and decided to do what I could with my life, instead of just sittin’ around feelin’ sorry for myself. I like to think it’s my way of gettin’ back at my ink sac for tryin’ to kill me, and not lettin’ somethin’ that makes me different get in the way of me havin’ an impact on the world.”

           André nodded in understanding. “If you two are done with your stupid little heart-to-heart, can we get started?” asked Marjani, “Let’s get this shit over with already.” Dodge nodded. “Everythin’ is ready to go. I’m gonna start with some lower volumes and work my way up,” he explained, “I got some audio straight from a Turf War match, so it’ll be the kinda stuff you guys should be used to. I figure that’s as good a place to start as any.” “Alright, already, just start it,” groaned Marjani, losing her patience with her brother.

           Dodge pressed a button on the control unit before moving a pair of volume sliders up. “You guys might wanna stand back a little bit so you’re not this close to the speakers,” he cautioned, picking up a pair of noise-cancelling headphones he’d had on the table and placing them over his ears. The song “Metalopod” could be heard starting up in the background of the noise of a usual Turf War. Marjani grinned and began to laugh as she and André stepped back from the speakers.

           “Dodge, if you wanted an excuse to blast my jam, you coulda just asked!” she joked over the noise as she glanced over to André, who was furrowing his brow while Dodge increased the volume. “What’s wrong, big guy?” Marjani quipped, “Come on, we’re just gettin’ started! Pump it up, Dodge!” André shot a dirty look at Marjani before rolling his eyes and looking away. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to concentrate. Dodge continued to increase the volume on the speakers until the sound was resounding around the skatepark.

           Marjani kept grinning at André as he started shaking his head intermittently, losing his focus as the volume increased. “Come on, André, you can do it!” Marjani needled her teammate sarcastically, “Didn’t you think this was such a great idea?” She began laughing outright as André covered his ears, grunting slightly and trying to maintain his composure. “Man, what is your malfunction?” she asked, “It’s just a little–”

           Marjani was cut short as the Turf War audio suddenly sounded off the unmistakable noise of a Killer Wail special weapon starting up. Her breath caught in her throat as Dodge’s eyes widened. He quickly tried to slide the volume down on the speakers, causing André to snap back to reality just in time to hear a blood-curdling scream coming from his teammate. He jumped in surprise as he looked over to Marjani, who had one arm wrapped around her waist and the other around her own head, sobbing uncontrollably on her knees as Dodge dropped the noise cancellers on the table and rushed to her side.

           “Shit!” Dodge hissed, “There was a Killer Wail in there?!” André watched in shock as Dodge knelt down in front of his sister. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” Marjani repeated herself over and over as she tried to control her bawling. “Sis!” Dodge said, taking hold of his sister’s shoulders, “Marjani! It’s okay! I’m here! It’s alright!” Marjani looked her brother in the eye, her quickened breathing slowly for just a moment before she gritted her teeth and screamed again, this time in frustration.

           Throwing Dodge’s arms off of her shoulders, she pulled her arm back and, before Dodge could react to what was going on, threw a punch straight into his left cheek, knocking him off balance and onto his back. “You fuckin’ IDIOT!” Marjani screeched as she stood up, tears still streaming down her face, “You blasted a fuckin’ Killer Wail!” “I-I didn’t know!” protested Dodge. “You didn’t KNOW?!” Marjani screamed, “How did you not fuckin’ know?! Didn’t you listen to it first to check?!” Dodge simply sat wordlessly, still stunned from Marjani’s punch.

           “Fuckin’ idiot!” Marjani screeched, turning away and storming off, “Fuck this! Fuck it all!” André took a few steps over to Dodge’s side and held out his hand for Dodge to take, putting the other on the younger Inkling’s back to help him up onto his feet. “Sis, wait!” shouted Dodge, starting to follow after his sister. “Fuck you!” yelled Marjani one last time, throwing up her middle finger over her shoulder as she continued walking away.

           “Let her go, Dodge,” suggested André, putting his hand on Dodge to hold him back, “…You alright? Looked like one hell of a punch.” “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Dodge replied, rubbing his jaw, “I’m not bleedin’ or anythin’, am I?” “Nah,” André confirmed, “…The hell was that?” “Sis doesn’t like loud noise, but she can put up with most of it no problem,” replied Dodge, “Mostly it’s just Killer Wails that get her riled up.” “That was a little more than ‘riled up,’ Dodge,” argued André, “Gotta have a reason.”

           “Sh-she… doesn’t like people to know,” stammered Dodge, “I shouldn’t tell you. When she’s ready, she’ll talk about it.” “Now would be a really good time for her to be ready,” said André, “Not sure if you’re aware, but she just punched you over it.” “Eh, she’s hit me harder before,” said Dodge, “I’m used to it.” “That’s… not healthy,” replied André in surprise. “Nah, it doesn’t happen often,” Dodge reassured him, “And she only does it when I’ve got it comin’. It’s almost always when I do somethin’ really stupid… like that.”

           “Almost?” André questioned. “A year or so ago, she was lashin’ out a lot more, and over little stuff more often than not,” explained Dodge, walking back over to the control unit for the speakers and turning the equipment off entirely, “Mom and Dad lost their patience with her and made her get her own place.” André sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Piece of work, that one…” he mumbled, “How do you put up with her when even your parents won’t?” “Because I know her better than they do anymore,” replied Dodge pensively before looking André in the eye, “And I’m not givin’ up on her.”

           “Dodge…” André murmured, “What happened to her? What made her like this? Is it just the addictions?” “You gotta ask her that yourself,” replied Dodge, shaking his head, “Like I said, ain’t my place to tell you.” “Well, she sure won’t,” growled André, “More likely Felicity, maybe Amber, but not me.” “If you’re that interested, I suggest you find someone else who might know,” replied Dodge, “But for now, it looks like my idea was a bust after all. You go ahead and peace out, I’m gonna call up my co-workers and we’re gonna haul all this stuff back.”

           André sighed again as he tried to process everything he’d just seen, waving half-heartedly to Dodge to acknowledge his suggestion as he turned to leave the skatepark. He breathed deeply as he glanced back to the other squid. Dodge, not realizing André was looking in his direction, wiped his eyes on his sleeve before continuing to rub his sore jaw. André looked back to the entrance of the skatepark to see if Marjani was still in sight, but she was long gone.

             André rubbed his left temple as he walked down the hall of Amber’s apartment building, his right hand holding the strap on the Roller bag slung over his shoulder. He let out a rumbling sigh as he arrived at Amber’s door and knocked. “Amber? Felicity?” he bellowed, “You two back yet?” “Come on in!” he heard Amber’s voice on the other side, “Door’s unlocked!” His large fingers gripping the knob gingerly, as if it could break were he to simply grab it, André opened the door gently and peered into the room.

           Amber and Felicity were seated upon the former’s bed, side-by-side. Felicity was sporting expertly-braided tentacles and sparkling blue fingernails, while Amber seemed to have tried a new lip gloss color – or any at all, for that matter. Amber was busy on her phone, no doubt deleting spam as usual. “Hi, André!” Felicity beamed, presenting her nails proudly, “Like ‘em? I thought I’d try something new!” André smirked and nodded. “Just you?” asked Amber, “I figured you and Marjani would be showing up together. How’d everything go?”

           “She isn’t here yet…?” asked André, furrowing his brow before sighing in realization. “Did something happen?” asked Felicity, “Is she alright?” “I’m not sure,” replied André, “Things went south after just a couple minutes, and she took off.” “Went south… in what sense?” asked Amber, raising an eyebrow. “Turns out she really hates Killer Wails,” revealed André, “Dodge played the sound of one on accident and she lost it. She punched him for it. I’ve never seen her like that.”

           “Where is she now?!” asked Felicity, panicking as she stood up off of the bed, “Where did she go?!” “Not sure,” replied André, “Thought maybe she’d go home and then show up here for the meeting. Being late’s nothing new for her, but what I saw… I don’t know if she’ll even remember we have a match. Might be better not to wait and see.” “I’ll try calling her,” Amber reassured the others, opening up her contacts list on her phone and dialing Marjani’s number.

           She held her phone up to her ear as the other two silently waited. They could barely hear their own breathing as the quiet dial tones on Amber’s phone continued, her expression slowly becoming crestfallen as Marjani failed to answer the call. Eventually, Amber shook her head in defeat and hung up. “She’s not answering,” she said as she shook her head in dismay , “She needs to set up her voicemail already.” “I keep trying to remind her,” added Felicity, “But I don’t want to seem like I’m nagging; I think that makes her care about it less.”

           André sighed, setting his Roller down and going back over to the door. “Wait, where are you going?” asked Amber, “What about the meeting?” “Won’t do us much good if we don’t have our fourth teammate, and I doubt that VX guy is just gonna magically show up to bail us out this time,” replied André, “I’m gonna go look for her. If I’m not back in half an hour, can you two get my Roller over to the tower? I’ll meet you there in time for the match.” “We could go with you,” suggested Amber.

           “No, I’ll find her myself,” maintained André, “Should’ve gone after her in the first place. Seemed like the best thing was to just let her vent.” “Why didn’t you stop her?” asked Felicity. André paused with his hand on the doorknob, hanging his head guiltily before looking back to the other two. “…Because she doesn’t like me. You know that,” he rumbled, “She probably couldn’t have hurt me if I intervened, but… I didn’t want her to try. Things don’t need to be even worse between us.”

           He opened the door and stepped out into the hall before turning back around. “Like I said, if I’m not back soon, skip the meeting and get to the tower,” he repeated, “I’ll meet you there, with or without her.” “Where are you going to start?” Amber questioned, “Any idea where she would’ve gone?” André put his hand on the outside doorknob again, nodding solemnly at Amber. “Just one,” he confirmed, “Hope I’m right.” He closed the door, this time slightly less gently than when he’d entered.

             Spyke breathed out a puff of smoke lazily as he slouched in his shop, located at the end of a shaded back alley near Inkopolis Tower. He had spent the last few days cleaning up the area and adding some needed decoration, such as hanging some exotic-looking rugs he’d found across wires to create a patchy “roof” of sorts, and putting out scented candles and incense burners that helped to mask the persistent stenches of tobacco or whatever else he had burning at any given time. This year’s Turf War season had caused his “business” to attract more customers than before, much to his delight, so his alleyway had to be at least a bit presentable.

           He took a sip of his whiskey, his bracelets jangling as he raised his glass, inspected the finer details of the cigar he was smoking, and scoffed quietly before taking another puff. He glanced over to a nearby Inkling sporting ghostly pale skin, unsettling, sleepless purple eyes, and lime green tentacles, leaning against the wall to Spyke’s left while smoking a cigarette with a grim look on his face, which bore a sizable scar that extended from just below his right eye across his cheekbone and down to his jawline. He wore a Rockenberg Black t-shirt and a pair of Black Trainers.

           “Wot ‘bout you, Nico?” asked Spyke, “It’s been a slow afternoon. Fink we oughta close up early fer the day?” Nico exhaled a green-colored smoke through his nostrils and shook his head before jerking it to his left, toward the entrance to the alley, where a massive silhouette was blocking a portion of what little light was allowed into Spyke’s dim shop now that he’d put the ceiling up. Spyke looked back to the entrance of the shop, his eye caught by the tall, muscular Inkling standing a few meters ahead of him, and gave a wide, disconcerting grin.

           Spyke pushed his lanky, gaunt form onto its feet, his bony fingers continuing to grip his drink and cigar, rising nearly to the height of the Inkling before him, a difference obscured by the urchin’s spiny head. “Well, well, well…” he mused theatrically, “What brings André the Giant Squid to my… humble establishment?” The Inkling stepped forward, his face now better illuminated. “I’m loo–” he started before being cut off by the tipsy, poncho-clad tramp.

           “–No, wait, lemme guess…” interrupted Spyke, gesturing slightly toward André with his cigar before taking another swig of his whiskey as he pondered for a moment before continuing knowingly, “…Yer lookin’ fer MJ.” André raised his eyebrow at the thought of someone calling Marjani “MJ,” but folded his arms and continued the conversation anyway. “How’d you guess?” he asked. Spyke took another puff of his cigar and exhaled, inadvertently blowing the smoke into the Inkling’s face, grinning as though he fancied himself to be some all-knowing guru.

           “‘Cause she told me ‘at André the Giant Squid’s on ‘er new team a while back. And she came by here earlier in a… right foul mood, rantin’ about ‘er bruvva or sumfin’,” he replied nonchalantly, “We passed a blunt ‘round so she could calm down a li’l ‘fore she took off. Didn’t say where she was ‘eaded, though; sorry, mate.” André grimaced before continuing. “What was she saying about her brother?” he asked as Spyke continued his smoking.

           “Ya know ‘er bruvva, right? Wot was ‘is name?” asked Spyke, “Ten-Dodgy, or sumfin’?” “Tendaji. Dodge for short. I know him,” replied André, fighting the urge to glance at the green-tentacled Inkling smoking nearby, who was staring unflinchingly at the giant Inkling. Spyke took another gulp of his whiskey and cleared his throat. “Right, well, I don’t remember exactly wot it was; sumfin’ ‘bout him bein’ loud. Was a li’l too stoned ta listen proper,” he admitted.

           “I was there. We both hate loud noises, and he was trying to help us get better at dealing with it,” André explained, “But she completely lost it when he played the sound of a Killer Wail on accident.” Spyke’s eye widened and his grin vanished as he realized the implication of André’s revelation. “Oh… OH,” he muttered, repeating his reaction as if trying to add some needless emphasis, “Well, now ‘at explains a lot.” “Can you tell me anything about that?” André questioned, “Dodge won’t talk.”

           Spyke nodded slowly as his eye glanced about, almost as though he was looking for Marjani herself to make sure she wouldn’t overhear him. “…I might, mate. ‘Ave a seat,” he offered, turning back toward his usual spot and walking back over to it while lazily gesturing toward the other Inkling, “Nico, mix up a drink fer André, would ya?” “Not old enough,” interjected André. Spyke’s lowered head perked up at this, betraying how taken aback he was, and he turned back around to face his guest, sizing him up in confusion.

           “…But yer, like, nine feet tall, mate, how’re ya not old enough…?” he asked quietly, “You sure? Ain’t no one ‘round ‘ere wot can tell ya wot ta do… Come on, live a little, mate. Nico mixes a mean Old Fashioned.” André shook his head and waved his hand sternly as if demonstrating his resolve. “Not here for vices, Spyke. Got a match later, and I’d rather say sharp,” he countered, “If underage drinking doesn’t bother you, at least respect that.” Spyke shrugged with a slight smile.

           “Alright, whatever, nix the drink, Nico,” he admitted defeat with a wave of his cigar, complying with André’s staunch refusal, before settling down back into his usual seat, the gigantic Inkling sitting down in front of him and crossing his arms. Setting his whiskey down next to himself, he flexed his emaciated fingers with a quiet crackling. He took another puff of his cigar before sighing. “…You know, I been finkin’, why do ‘ey call it ‘marowana?’ S’not even made wif arowana. S’bloody kelp…” he pondered, before placing the cigar down on an ashtray and breathing deeply.

           His eye lolled upward slightly, away from André’s gaze, as he reminisced about Marjani’s past. “Awright, well, where do I begin…?” he asked himself quietly, closing his eye to think momentarily before deciding on his starting point. “MJ didn’t always used ta be the way she is now, if ya couldn’t guess. She was… a lot brighter,” he continued, looking back to André, “I didn’t know ‘er personally ‘en, but I was watchin’ ‘er Turf War match when it ‘appened.” “‘It…?’” asked André, raising an eyebrow. Spyke nodded and sighed.

           “At Moray Towers. ‘Er team was goin’ up against ‘at one international group, those, uh, Sharkfin girls, I fink,” Spyke recalled, “MJ might’ve been nicer, but she was just as aggressive back ‘en as she is now; decided ta head straight fer the enemy base at the beginning o’ the match, ya know, ‘ead ‘em off an’ cause trouble on their side o’ the field. She knew it was risky an’ would probably get ‘er splatted, but ya know, that’s how she plays – tries ta take out more o’ ‘em ‘fore gettin’ splatted ‘erself just ta keep ‘em occupied.”

           André was silent as he focused intently on Spyke’s tale. “Anyway, just as she was comin’ up the side o’ one o’ the towers, someone on the other team planted down a Killer Wail. ‘Ey were just tryin’ ta hit one of ‘er teammates on the other side o’ the field, didn’t know she was ‘at close…” Spyke continued, “MJ got ta the top o’ the wall an’ took it point-blank… She never saw it comin’.” “So she got splatted?” asked André.

           “Worse. When she respawned, she was coughin’ up a mix o’ ‘er own ink an’ blood. She was so close ta the Wail ‘at the sound blast ‘ad messed up ‘er internal organs, done some real bad damage,” Spyke’s eyelid drooped as he solemnly called back the memories of the day, “‘Ey called off the match, an’ she spent the next monf in the ‘ospital. She was in pain the whole time, an’ kept takin’ painkillers even after she got out. Liked the way ‘ey made ‘er feel.”

           “That’s how it started, then?” asked André. Spyke nodded, looking André in the eye again in resignation. “When she ran out, she came ta me knowin’ I’d be the kind o’ guy who could ‘ook ‘er up wif more,” he continued, “‘At’s ‘how I met ‘er.” “So you got her addicted to all these harder drugs, then?” André gritted his teeth as the corner of his mouth curled into a snarl, “Took advantage of her situation to get yourself a new regular, did you?”

           “I never gave ‘er anyfin she didn’t ask fer, never pressured ‘er ta try anyfin’ new or nuffin’,” retorted Spyke, “I make it my job ta ‘elp people, no matter wot it is ‘ey need. Ain’t always strictly legal, but–” “–But, let me guess, ‘you mean well,’ so it’s all okay?” growled André, “No, of course, what people do with the drugs you help them get is their business, right? Not like you’re an enabler or anything. No ink on your hands, is that it?”

           “Look, I’m MJ’s dealer, yeah, but don’t fink I haven’t done nuffin’ to try and ‘elp ‘er kick it, too. I’m ‘bout as far from perfect as a bloke can get, but s’not like all I care ‘bout’s my bottom line…!” Spyke insisted as his volume escalated, “I’ve kept ‘er away from the more dangerous stuff an’ made sure she never gets too much o’ anyfin’. If she weren’t such a friend, I’d say I practically babysit ‘er – an’ I wager I do a better bloody job of it ‘an you an’ your teammates, eh, considerin’ you came here hopin’ ta find ‘er?”

           The two fell silent as Spyke realized he’d crossed a line with his last statement. André sighed and his expression fell as he knew Spyke was right – the urchin knew Marjani better than her own teammates did, especially André himself; while she was certainly difficult to work with, André’s own disapproval of her was also partly to blame for their poor relationship. Spyke stammered for a moment, his breath out of sync with his desire to speak as he collected himself. “Sorry. ‘At was outta line,” he apologized, “…But you asked, mate.”

           André rose to his feet silently, still avoiding eye contact with the urchin. “Guess I did…” he agreed glumly as he turned back around, “Thanks for the story. Sorry for wasting your time.” He started making his way back to the entrance of the alley. “…It weren’t a waste,” retorted Spyke. André stopped and started to look back over his shoulder. “…Good luck findin’ ‘er, mate,” Spyke added. André turned forward again. “Take care, Spyke,” he murmured, resuming his exit. “Always do,” replied the urchin quietly as André walked back out into the sunlight, briefly casting a shadow into the alley before vanishing into Inkopolis Plaza.

             André looked up to the doors to Inkopolis Tower before him and sighed. He hadn’t managed to find Marjani in time; he had spent too long listening to Spyke’s story, but the urchin had been unable to provide him with any leads as to his teammate’s current whereabouts. His only hope was that she had remembered the strategy meeting and shown up at Amber’s apartment after he’d left. He stepped forward, the automatic doors sliding open to clear his path.

           “Don’t worry, he said he’d be here,” he heard a familiar voice speaking as he looked around, spotting his teammates nearby. Amber had her hand on Felicity’s shoulder, reassuring her that André would arrive before the match. Hearing the doors open behind them, Amber glanced over her shoulder and spotted André. “See, just like I said,” she added, causing Felicity to turn around. As the two parted, André realized that Marjani was present, facing the two of them, and now him. “M-Marjani,” he stammered in surprise, “You’re… here.”

           “Yeah,” Marjani murmured sheepishly, “I was just upstairs. Had to… I had to say sorry to Dodge.” “That’s…” André was at a loss for words and simply nodded. “I kinda gave you the runaround, huh?” asked Marjani, a hint of hoarseness still in her voice, “Amber said you were out lookin’ for me.” André looked to Amber before nodding at Marjani. “Yeah,” he replied, “Looks like I was the late one for once… You did remember we have a match, right?”

           “Uh, yeah,” replied Marjani in annoyance, slinging her Splatling’s bag off of her shoulder, “Dude, we’re goin’ up against Spice Splat, I’m not forgettin’ that.” André turned to Felicity. “Were you two okay taking my Roller over here, or do I have to go back for it?�� Felicity nodded, pointing over to André’s Roller bag, which was leaning against a nearby wall. “Thanks,” André said, walking over to the bag and kneeling down to unzip it, “Wasn’t too heavy, was it?”

           “Nah, we did fine,” replied Felicity, “We’re stronger than we look.” She held up her arms as if flexing, beaming at her teammate. André smirked and shook his head, chuckling quietly as he rose back to his feet, his Roller on his shoulder. “The others not here yet?” he asked as the doors to the tower opened once more. As if on cue, the four members of Spice Splat walked into the tower. “Sorry we’re late, everyone!” shouted Caroline, her usual grin plastered on her face.

           “Everything’s backwards today…” muttered Amber, “First André’s last to show, then Spice Splat is here after all of us…” “Butch here…” continued Caroline, gesturing to the team’s Inkbrusher, “Almost forgot about our match!” “Oi, I didn’t fuggedaboutit!” protested Butch, “My uncle–” “–Had yuh runnin’ an errand or some odduh bilge, we know,” interrupted Moruga, “We’ve heard it before, Butch. De point is dat it needs to stop if yuh are as committed to dis team as yuh say.”

           “I know, I know,” insisted Butch irritatedly, “Come on, we ain’t got much time ‘til da match. Let’s get goin’.” Jolokia smiled at the other team, cradling her Tri-Slosher. “It’s good to see you all again,” she greeted them politely, before making eye contact with André. Her smile fell slightly as she looked away from him. “We should really catch up after this,” she continued, a little more quietly than before, “We haven’t all been together in one place since that match in the Splatfest, and we were too busy playing against each other.”

           André nodded in her direction before speaking up. “We could… go get coff–” he was cut off as the intercom in the room sounded off. “Teams Spice Splat and Outcasts to Walleye Warehouse, please,” the voice spoke, “Teams Spice Splat and Outcasts, to Walleye Warehouse.” “That’s our cue!” declared Caroline as she adjusted her grip on her Mini Splatling, “Don’t hold back just because we’re friends now, Amber!” “Us? Friends?” Amber scoffed as the two teams made their way to the grates, “Maybe someday, Humboldt.”

           “Ouch, girl,” replied Caroline. “Looks like things really are backwards today,” added Felicity confidently, “Now Amber’s the one burning you guys!” “Zip it, squirt,” snapped Butch, “Don’t give your girl too much credit. Boss set herself up for dat one.” “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is, rich boy?” interjected Marjani, “Or are you scared of a little girl with a Charger?” “Enough banter,” bellowed Moruga, “Or we’re goin’ ta be late.” The eight battlers, all chomping at the bit, transformed into their cephalopod forms and dropped through the grates.

             The four Outcasts rose out of the indigo ink at their spawn point, weapons at the ready. “Alright, Outcasts,” Amber addressed her teammates, hoping to rally them, “I know we had to skip the strategy meeting again, but at least we know what to expect from these guys. Let’s show Spice Splat what we’ve learned.” Felicity nodded with a dubious smile, psyching herself up for the match ahead, even though none of her teammates were facing her to see this. “Marjani…” murmured André quietly as he glanced over to his teammate, “You… gonna be okay for this?”

           “Yeah,” replied Marjani confidently, sounding insulted by André’s insinuation, “Relax, I’m over it. I’ll be fine.” André tightened his grip on his Roller and breathed deeply to calm himself, turning his focus and his gaze forward once more. “If you say so…” he whispered. “Three!” the usual voice spoke over the loudspeakers. “Here we go, guys,” Amber prepared herself, holding her Octoshot Replica at the ready. “Two!” the voice continued, “One!” Felicity held her Squiffer up, ready to begin charging it the moment the match began. “Go!”

           The four Outcasts rushed forward from the starting point, the narrow spawn area restricting them into moving together early on. “Marjani, you’re closest to the left path, I want you inking that! André, take the right!” barked Amber, “Felicity, hop across the containers and try to keep them on their toes once they get to the center! I’m going right into the action, so I want you covering my blind spots!” The teammates fanned out, each following Amber’s orders.

           André kept an eye on the turf ahead as he lumbered down the ramp along the Outcasts’ right side of the warehouse, a high wall on his left completely obscuring his view of the rest of the action. As he reached the bottom, he took a moment to survey the area and make sure he hadn’t been spotted. He could see Moruga taking his place on Spice Splat’s equivalent of the vantage point where Felicity had planted herself, removed from the action that would no doubt unfold in the center but a prime sniper’s perch.

           André made a right and began making his way around another shorter wall, covering as much turf as he could on that side. As he inked underneath a grate, he suddenly felt the sting of Spice Splat’s signature red ink landing on him. He quickly ducked into his squid form and swam a short distance back through his own path to wash the red ink off of himself. “Damn, can’t tell if he’s still here or not,” he heard a voice above mutter, “How’s Ninja Squid even work fuh somebody dat big?”

           André emerged from the indigo ink to see Butch standing above. “Hey, you are still here!” shouted Butch with a grin, “Wazza madda, Kraken? Scared ta come up here and get me?” “Would if I could, Butch!” replied André, “You know I can’t ink those walls.” Butch threw back his head and let out a laugh. “Oh, I bet youse would like dat, wouldn’t ya?” he taunted his opponent, “Every time you’ve used dat famous Kraken, youse always pick me ta go aftah.”

           André gritted his teeth and glanced to his left as he swung his Roller menacingly, repainting the ground beneath Butch but missing the squid himself. “Oi, watch da tempah!” Butch mocked him, “I mean, I get it if youse hate me ‘cause I took your spot! Youse scared dey like me bettah than when youse was rollin’ with dem, I’m bettin’! Look, Kraken, youse don’t gotta be jealous! I got mad respect for youse!”

           “Was just re-inking the turf, Butch,” replied André with a smirk, “I know I can’t hit you up there. Don’t think so highly of yourself.” Butch gritted his teeth and swung his Inkbrush wildly, flinging ink all around below himself, before dropping through the grates in his squid form and transforming back. “I’m not jealous, Butch. I’m glad they’ve been doing well without me; that they found someone new who could take my place so quickly. I don’t resent you for that,” André continued, Butch’s reaction betraying that they had traded the psychological high ground.

           Butch planted his Inkbrush on the ground and rushed toward André, only for the latter to place his own Roller down, rolling forward just enough to trap the bristles of Butch’s brush under it as he neared his massive predecessor. As Butch tried to yank his weapon free, André leaned forward and looked his replacement in the eye. “What I don’t like is your overgrown ego,” he growled, “Sure, you might be an ‘Inkbrush Prodigy,’ and good enough to be my replacement, but I find it insulting that they picked such a loudmouth to fill my shoes. I don’t care if you’re all talk or not, Butch; but you do it too much.”

           Before Butch could react with a witty comeback, André continued pushing his Roller forward, splatting his horrified successor and sending him back to the other team’s spawn. Taking no time to relish his minor victory, he continued pushing forward, inking whatever he could of Butch’s handiwork before turning his attention to the center of the battlefield, where Amber was huddled behind a stack of crates smack in the middle of the flat, open area, taking cover from Moruga’s shots.

           André kept a careful eye on Moruga’s targeting sight as he made his way over to rendezvous with his teammate. “Need a hand, Captain?” he asked as Amber smiled at the sight of him. “Boy, am I glad to see you!” she sighed in relief, “Felicity helped me pin down Jolokia and get her out of Marjani’s way. She kept going on up their right path. I saw you working out your frustrations with Butch over there. How’d you get him to come down to you like that?”

           “Just told him he wasn’t the most important thing in the universe,” quipped André. Amber stifled her laughter with a quiet snort. “Asshole had it coming,” she replied, “…So I’m still not sure where Caroline is, but I’m worried Marjani’s gonna get herself splatted up there that close to their spawn, especially with Jolokia and Butch getting back out here any second now. I think you oughta get up that way and back her up. There’s enough of our ink that you should be able to slip past Moruga with Ninja Squid, but I’ll give you some cover fire to draw his attention.”

           André nodded and transformed into his squid form, leaving Amber to fend for herself as he swam toward the side of the field that Marjani had taken from the start, making his way up Spice Splat’s equivalent of the ramp that he had taken at Amber’s first orders. “Alright, Oaxaca, let’s dance!” shouted Amber as she sprang out from behind the boxes, hoping to draw and evade the sniper’s fire. As she pressed forward, she looked up to where Moruga had been standing, only to spot a different squid in his place – Caroline.

           “Guess again, girl!” replied Caroline, unleashing a barrage of ink from her Mini Splatling. Retreating back in her indigo-colored ink to the safety of the boxes, Amber panted heavily as she realized her mistake. “Shit!” she hissed to herself, “Caroline’s there now?! But then where did…?!” She looked over to where André had gone after Marjani. “No!” she yelped, “That’s a narrow passage with no way out but forward or back! If he catches them in there…!”

           As André made his way toward the top of the slope, he sprang out of his squid form, spotting Marjani ahead of him. Looking past her, however, he saw another figure arriving on the ledge above them, scowling callously at his opponents. “Marjani!” shouted André, rushing forward to his teammate as he saw the telltale gleam of Moruga’s tentacles beneath his beret. He clenched his Roller, reaching the end of the slope where Marjani was turning around to face him, just as Moruga activated his special weapon.

           Time slowed as Moruga’s Killer Wail started up. André rushed toward Marjani as she looked back over her shoulder in horror, the sound of the Killer Wail alerting her to what was coming. Without thinking, André swung his Roller from left to right, knocking Marjani out of the corridor through its only exit, into Spice Splat’s territory. He looked at Moruga in a combination of surprise and fury for just a split second before the Killer Wail went off, sending a blast of sound straight down the corridor.

           Marjani breathed heavily, tears streaming from her clenched eyes as she squeezed her Splatling’s handle until her knuckles were white. As the screech of the Killer Wail faded, she slowly realized that she hadn’t been splatted, and stood up in Spice Splat’s red ink, looking around and seeing no other players around her. “Wha… what?” she muttered to herself as she struggled to process what had just transpired.

           “Shit!” she hissed, realizing that André had taken the blast from the Killer Wail in her place, “That was…!” Before Moruga could come around the corner and get her in his sights, she quickly transformed into her squid form and Super Jumped all the way back to the Outcasts’ spawn point. She took a few steps forward as she waited for André to respawn from the pool of ink. After a few seconds, he rematerialized, dropping his Roller and falling to his knees. He grunted between heavy breaths as his eyes darted aimlessly.

           “André!” Marjani shouted, dropping her Splatling into the ink with a distinct plop and putting her hands on her teammate’s shoulders, “André! Pull it together!” André’s eyes finally stopped moving as his breathing slowed back down to a normal rate, and he looked Marjani in the eye. “That’s it, big guy,” she whispered, “It’s alright. I’m here.” “…Why?” asked André quietly. “Why am I here?” asked Marjani, “We’re in the middle of a Turf War match, you big lug. You didn’t… forget, did you?”

           André sighed. “N-no,” he muttered, rising back to his feet and picking up his Roller, “That’s… exactly why I was asking. If we’re in the middle of a match, you oughta be out there inking, not back here at spawn. Unless… did I… you didn’t get hit by it too, did you?” Marjani shook her head. “No…” she muttered sheepishly, “I-I… I had to make sure you’d be okay. I mean…” She struggled to find the right words, awkwardly breaking eye contact with her teammate.

           “…You know, just… after what you were doin’ over at Blackbelly earlier, I-I thought the noise might fuck you up,” she stammered a little more loudly, picking up her Splatling again, “That’s the last thing we need right now. You can… you know, cry about it or whatever if you need to later.” André smirked before slapping his own cheek lightly to make sure he had completely snapped back to reality. “Come on, we’ve wasted too much time here,” he suggested, stepping off of the spawn point, “Amber and Felicity need us. Let’s get back out–”

           Before André could finish, the figures of their other two teammates suddenly materialized out of the ink behind him. “Ugh!” groaned Amber before noticing André and Marjani. Realizing all four of them were back at their own spawn point, her jaw dropped slightly in surprise before she pointed to the battlefield. “Don’t just stand there staring!” she ordered, “We just wiped! They’re gonna be pushing hard now and none of us are down there to hold the line!”

           “Shit!” spat Marjani as she turned around, “Come on, fuck strategy, let’s just get out there and stop them!” “Language, Marjie!” Felicity scolded her teammate. “No, for once, I agree,” retorted André as the four transformed into their squid forms and swam forward toward the center of the map together, “No time for orders now.” The four didn’t make it very far before encountering Spice Splat’s signature red ink.

           “Wait, who got Marjani?” asked Caroline nonchalantly as she fired her Splatling, sweeping it horizontally to splatter her ink in as wide of an area as she could. “Wasn’t me!” replied Butch as he zipped around behind his teammates with his Inkbrush, inking spots they’d missed. “I thought I didn’t get ‘er wit’ my Killer Wail,” added Moruga, “Jolokia?” Jolokia simply shook her head as the eight members of the two teams closed in on each other in a chaotic flurry of red and indigo.

           “Nobody fuckin’ got me!” shouted Marjani over the cacophony, “I just jumped back to spawn!” “Language!” added Felicity quietly. “Wait, so you’re the only one who hasn’t been splatted yet?” asked Caroline, “Geez, you guys were right; things are backwards today!” “Then we’re on track to turn this around and win for once!” quipped Amber. As the Outcasts dodged splatters of red ink, trying to push back with their deep purple, a whistle suddenly sounded out.

           “Wait, what?!” asked Amber, looking around in confusion. Moruga began to chuckle. “I see yuh took my advice to heart,” he laughed, “Yuh forgot to keep track of de time limit.” Amber hung her head, knowing without a doubt that the Outcasts had been pushed back and defeated. “I was really hoping we could turn it around… and I said it and everything…” she muttered, “…What even happened? We were doing well up until that last minute or so.”

           She turned around, facing Marjani. “You jumped to spawn,” she said accusingly, “What for?” Marjani looked to André sheepishly before looking back at the captain. “I-I was on their side with Moruga on my ass,” she muttered, “Was tryin’ not to get splatted.” Amber put her hands on her hips and sighed. “Well, that’s not so bad,” she admitted, “Might’ve been able to get some of their side inked, but at least you got out of there instead of letting yourself get splatted like usual. You could’ve jumped to one of us out there in the middle, though.” “Didn’t know if you guys were safe to jump to,” retorted Marjani.

           “Sounds like you guys are learning,” Caroline acknowledged the group, “Keep it up. I legit wanna lose to you guys at least once before the end of the season.” “Speak fuh yourself, Boss!” snapped Butch, his mouth curled into a snarl, “I ain’t losin’ to dese amateurs! Not today, not evah!” “Play nice, Butch,” replied Caroline, without so much as glancing over her shoulder to her Inkbrusher, “Geez, who put a lionfish down your shirt?” Butch simply muttered incoherently to himself, folding his arms as he shot a look at André, who simply smirked back.

           “Alright, you guys, let’s get going,” sighed Amber. “Turf War’s closing up for the day. Almost time for dinner,” added Caroline, “You guys wanna go grab something with us?” “What do you guys think?” asked Amber, turning to her teammates. “It could be fun,” said Felicity. André simply nodded in agreement. “Would be nice to not be at each other’s throats for once,” he added. “Nah, not me, I’ve, uh…” Marjani stammered, “I’ve got somewhere to be.”

           “You sure?” asked Caroline, “I’ll even treat you guys.” Marjani hung her head and put her hands on her hips. “Tempting,” she said, “But I’m gonna pass.” “Alright, suit yourself,” Caroline acceded, “Let’s get back to our spawns.” She turned around and headed back toward Spice Splat’s spawn point, her teammates following behind. The Outcasts began to do the same, heading up the slope near where the match had started, Amber and Felicity leading the way.

           “Marjani,” grunted André quietly. Marjani looked up to her teammate as they walked side-by-side. “What?” she asked defensively, as if her teammate was going to scold her for declining Caroline’s offer. “Sorry for pushing you,” André rumbled quietly, not making eye contact with her, “With my Roller.” Marjani looked away for a moment to wipe her eye before clearing her throat. “N-nah,” she stuttered, “Th-thanks.” André simply nodded in acknowledgement.

           “H-hey, so,” continued Marjani, “I’m gonna go drop by Spyke’s. You, uh… you wanna come with?” André smiled, but shook his head. “Not really my thing,” he countered, “I’m gonna stick with the others for dinner. But thanks for the offer.” “Nah, man, that’s cool,” replied Marjani, “You know, you do you, man. But if you change your mind–” “–I know where to look,” André said. Marjani smiled behind her Skull Bandana as the two arrived back at the spawn point with their teammates, each transforming into their squid forms to return to Inkopolis Tower.

 SPLATOON: THE OUTCASTS

EPISODE END

             Shelley Quinn hummed the tune to one of the Squid Sisters’ recent singles, Marie’s “Tide Goes Out,” as she scrubbed a cast iron pan in hot water, the sunlight pouring in through the window directly in front of her kitchen sink. Courtesy of her child, she had heard the song far too many times recently and the beautiful, somber melody was stuck in her head, not that she minded.

           Placing the pan upside-down on a towel with the rest of the dishes she had just finished washing so it could air-dry, she took another towel hanging on the handle of the oven door and dried her hands with it, just in time for the phone to ring. She continued humming as she stepped over to the other side of the kitchen and picked up the phone. “Hello?” she said sweetly, greeting whomever it was that had called. Her warm smile slowly faded as she recognized the voice on the other end.

           “Oh, Fingal, hello… It’s… been a while.”

[aion-rsa]

Best Tech Holiday Gifts for Black Friday

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

What’s better than a new getting a cool new gadget during the holidays? A new PC to game on, a brand new phone that doubles as a high-tech camera, a virtual reality headset that lets you explore game worlds like never before, or maybe you just want a bluetooth mug that keeps your coffee and tea at the right temperature. When it comes to cool tech gifts, the possibilities are truly endless!

In fact, there’s almost too much choice. That’s why we’ve picked out the best tech gifts you can buy in various categories, from phones and PC gaming to wearables and streaming equipment. And while you’ll find plenty of top-of-the-line gadgets in devices on this list, you’ll find quite a few budget-friendly options!

Editor’s note: Den of Geek may receive a small commission from items purchased through the links in this story.

So, without further ado, here are Den of Geek’s picks for the best tech gifts for 2020:

PC Gaming

Presented by be quiet!

be quiet! Pure Base 500DX ATX case – $110

If you’ve recently picked up a next-gen GPU, things are likely to get a little hot when running games at ultra settings. That means you need plenty of space inside your case and powerful internal fans to keep things cool while you play. be quiet! – as the name suggests – specializes in products that reduce PC noise to a whisper while making sure your components never get too hot.

The Pure Base 500DX case manages this via high airflow intake panels and three 140mm fans, ensuring top cooling and near-silent operation. It doesn’t hurt that this case looks pretty darned stylish in the process.

Learn more about the Pure Base 500DX here.

be quiet! Silent Base 802 – $170

If you want something even more heavy duty, the Base 802 is just as stylish with all the cooling and quiet qualities of the 500DX. As well as the three 140mm fans, the Base 802 has plenty of customizable features, like a decoupled motherboard tray for an optional inverted layout and interchangeable top covers to let you choose between airflow and sound level. 

Learn more about the Silent Base 802 here.

be quiet! BW008 Pure Loop All-in-One Water Cooling – $85-120

If you really want to reduce the noise of a PC, then water cooling is the best option, and be quiet! has you covered here, too. The BW007 Pure Loop All-in-One Water Cooling System’s design causes minimal vibration, meaning very little noise is generated while your PC is kept nice and cool. And if you have a window into your PC’s innards, you’ll be pleased to hear it’s good looking too, with a stylish all-black aluminum design with white LEDs for illumination.

Learn more about the Pure Loop Cooling System here.

be quiet! Dark Power Pro 12 1500W PSU – $450

Okay, not everyone needs this much power, but if you do find yourself needing a PSU with four figures worth of wattage, then the modular Dark Power Pro is for you. Offering up to 94.9% of power efficiency, the frameless Silent Wings fan is virtually silent when operating at ordinary loads. Plus, it’s an overclocker’s dream with key switches between six 12V rails and a large 12V rail. 

Learn more about the Dark Power Pro here.

Noblechairs Epic Gaming Chair – $390

While some PC gamers might spend some time flailing their arms around in VR – most of the time you’ll be seated, and comfort matters. That’s where the Noblechairs Epic Gaming Chair comes in. It’s a great combination of comfort and flexibility, allowing for all kinds of adjustments so it fits you just right. Perfect for the budding live streamer or esports hopeful, this chair will allow you to game for hours without any sore spots.

Buy the Noblechairs Epic Gaming Chair on Amazon.

Fnatic Streak Mechanical Gaming Keyboard – $130

There’s no shortage of great gaming keyboards out there, but the Fnatic Streak outperforms them by A) having a load of nice extras and B) looking quite tasteful. Not only is it a pleasure to type on, but it comes with a detachable leather wrist rest, which sits neatly in one of three grooves in the bottom of the keyboard. If you want something more compact (and cheaper), then the miniStreak is also worth a look. 

Buy the Fnatic Streak Mechanical Gaming Keyboard on Amazon.

Logitech G502 Gaming Mouse – $40

If there’s one thing Logitech knows, it’s mice, and the G502 Hero is a brilliant gaming mouse. Its sensor is up to 16,000 DPI and it features 11 customizable buttons with onboard memory to remember your specific button setup for each game. There are five removable 3.6g weights to ensure it offers just the right amount of resistance, and there’s programmable RGB lighting to boot. It started out at $80, so for $40 is simply a bargain. 

Buy the Logitech G502 Gaming Mouse on Amazon.

EPOS | Sennheiser GSP 601/602 Headset – $219

EPOS | Sennheiser are well known for making audio products that aim for the highest quality sound, and the GSP 601 and 602 headsets bring this dedication to gamers in style. Not only do these headsets provide exceptional audio quality to help you pinpoint your opponents in multiplayer shooters, but they’re also extremely comfortable and the microphone can be easily adjusted to cope with your voice. While these headsets are primarily designed for PC use, but it supports Macs as well as the PS4, PS5, Xbox One, Xbos Series X and Nintendo Switch.

Buy the GSP 601/602 Headset on Amazon.

EPOS | Sennheiser GSX 300 External Sound Card – $69

For best audio performance, if you don’t already have a dedicated sound card, you’ll want to pair the above headset with this external model. The GSX 300 works with the EPOS Gaming Suite to provide digital sound processing and 7.1 surround sound. As a neat touch, the ring around the volume dial will glow blue for 2.0 sound and red for 7.1 so you don’t have to constantly run the application to switch between the two.

Buy the GSX 300 External Sound Card on Amazon.

VR

Oculus Quest 2 – $299

The Oculus Quest 2 is the device that should, by all rights, bring virtual reality to the mainstream. It doesn’t need external cameras, so setup time is minimal, and it doesn’t need an expensive PC to run the games, either. Just download games and apps to the headset , pop it on your head, and away you go.

Of course, if you do have a high-powered PC, you can play amazing titles like Half Life: Alyx with the optional Oculus Link cable, too.

Buy the Oculus Quest 2 on Amazon.

Valve Index – $999

If money is no object, you have the PC grunt to run it, and you can actually get hold of one, then the Valve Index is the virtual reality headset to get this year. It lacks the immediacy of the Oculus Quest 2 and can’t run without a PC or the movement tracking base stations, but the room scale experience is second to none with crisp visuals and high refresh rates to really lose yourself in a virtual world. Pair with Half-Life: Alyx. Trust us.

Buy the Valve Index on Amazon.

Phones and Wearables

Apple iPhone 12 Pro – $999

If you’re a hardcore Apple fan, then the iPhone 12 Pro is simply as good as it gets. Featuring 5G, three strong cameras, and the superfast Apple A14 Bionic processor, this is a top-of-the-line smartphone that won’t let you down. It’s also a lot more robust than past iPhones, thanks to the brand new Ceramic Shield protection, which promises up to four times’ the protection from drops – handy for butterfingered types.

A word of warning: unlike Android phones, the iPhone doesn’t support storage expansion via microSD. We think 128GB is a decent amount of space, but if you think you’ll need more in the future, then save yourself a world of pain and just pay $100 extra for 256GB or $300 more for the 512GB model now. 

Buy the Apple iPhone 12 Pro on Amazon.

Apple iPhone SE – $399

It’s surprising how much iPhone you can get for $399. Typically, “lite” versions of smartphones have quite a lot missing, but Apple has managed to pack the same A13 processor into the iPhone SE as the one in its iPhone 11 Pro. It’s very, very fast – still faster than most flagship Android phones in benchmarks, actually.

Same caveat as before: 64GB is very little storage, so you’re best off paying $449 for the 128GB version if you can stretch a little further. 

Buy the Apple iPhone SE on Amazon.

Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra – $1050

The best Android phone on the market is packed absolutely full of features, with the best screen you can get and a superfast Qualcomm Snapdragon 865 processor pushing incredible performance. 

The triple camera array enables you to take incredibly high quality photoss, but the real ace up this phone’s sleeve is the bundled S Pen stylus. It docks neatly in the underside of the handset, and lets you doodle on that big, beautiful screen. Android phones don’t get better than this.

Buy the Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra on Amazon.

Google Pixel 4a – $349

On the budget end of Android, you get impressive value from the $349 Google Pixel 4a. Not only do you benefit from Google’s best-in-class camera processing for incredibly good shots, but you get a nice clean installation of Android – and early access to new versions as the company makes them, too.

Buy the Google Pixel 4a on Amazon.

Apple Watch Series 6 – $330

If you have an iPhone, then the Apple Watch is a no brainer as a smartwatch to go with it. And the latest version is better than ever with a nice, bright always-on display and the ability to measure your blood oxygen levels. That’s quite a nice extra, given lower SPO2 levels are a possibly early indicator of a Covid infection…

Buy the Apple Watch Series 6 on Amazon.

Fitbit Versa 3 – $200

For Android users, the Fitbit Versa 3 is a fabulous smartwatch. The Versa 3 builds on its excellent predecessors by including built-in GPS for the first time, allowing you to head out for a run without dragging your phone along with you. On top of that, its fabulous screen and week-long battery life won’t let you down. The fact that it has Alexa built in is just a neat, added bonus.

Buy the Fitbit Versa 3 on Amazon.

Streaming

Elgato HD60 S+ Capture Card – $214

If you’re a streamer who games on a console or gaming PC, you’ll need a capture card to send the footage to your streaming PC. The Elgato HD60 S+ is the gold standard of external game capture cards (unless you need the $399 4K model, of course), providing smooth, low latency 1080p 60 fps gameplay with HDR for your editing pleasure. Sure, it’s pricy, but your Twitch fans deserve the best, right?

Buy the Elgato HD60 S+ Capture Card on Amazon.

Logitech StreamCam – $170

And if you’re streaming your games, you’ll likely find your average webcam won’t quite cut it, either. Fortunately, the Logitech StreamCam is a solution aimed squarely at streamers, with plenty of features that’ll come in handy when mid broadcast. Its smart auto-focus and exposure mean you won’t need to constantly adjust things, and this webcam is also ideal for those who want to maintain a solid 60 frames per second for their HD footage.

Buy the Logitech StreamCam on Amazon.

Lifestyle

Nest Audio – $100

Google’s smart speaker is back and better than ever. We’ve given this the nod ahead of Amazon’s excellent Echo partly because of a slight sound quality advantage, but also because Google Assistant still has the edge when it comes to AI smarts. But if you’re in an all Amazon household, then the new Echo is also pretty damned good for $70, too.

Buy the Nest Audio on Amazon.

Nanoleaf Rhythm Edition – $200

Turn your wall into a canvas for light-based art with the Nanoleaf Rhythm Edition. Nine triangular LED panels click together into whatever pattern you like and then come alive in 16.7 million colors to the rhythm of your music for a spellbinding light show. Need more panels for your grand design to work? Extras are available in packs of three…

Buy the Nanoleaf Rhythm Edition on Amazon.

Tile Pro – $32

How many times have you misplaced your keys this year? If the answer is “more than zero,” then do yourself a favor and buy a Tile Pro right now. If you lose something with a Tile attached, just log into the app and the Tile will play a catchy jingle until you find it. If you still have no luck, then mark the item as lost and the worldwide Tile community will begin anonymously searching on your behalf – as soon as a user passes them, the coordinates will be sent your way, so you can pick up the search yourself. 

Buy the Tile Pro on Amazon.

Ember Bluetooth Mug – $100

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Yes, even something as simple as a cup of coffee can be enhanced by technology. Ember is a Bluetooth mug which connects to an app, keeping your drink at the ideal temperature from the first sip to the last. Cleverly, it charges wirelessly when sat on the included plate, so you don’t need to endure the embarrassment of asking where your mug’s USB lead has gone.

Buy the Ember Bluetooth Mug on Amazon.

The post Best Tech Holiday Gifts for Black Friday appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3lbqX1h

[jinjikook]

Rainy Day Blues (M)

word count: 2.7k

genre: smut ; idol-verse

pairing: seokjin/jeongguk

warning(s)/kink(s): top! jeongguk, bottom! jin, cock warming, unprotected sex, anal sex, fingering, spanking, sub! jin, vocal sex

a/n: this is the first of a mini-series of multiple au drabbles, all jeongguk-centric in honor of his 21st birthday! i might post more over time so please feel free to send in kook ships + aus  ♡ 

masterlist

The rain was relentless, the spray and wind conspiring to make as much noise as possible against the window pane.

Jin sighed and let the curtain drift back to its original place, the boring blue making Jin that much more aware of how bland today was.

They had finally gotten a day off, albeit it wasn’t much of a day off because they still had to appear for an interview in the morning but they were given the rest of the day to do as they pleased. This meant that Yoongi went straight to the studio, Namjoon in tow, and the 95z along with Hoseok went out for dinner and a movie. Something about the new one starring Ryan Reynolds catching their interest.

Jin and Jeongguk had chosen to stay home, the younger wanting to play online video games for a while and Jin wanted to catch up on a book he’d begun ages ago, having forgotten his place after not being able to get to it for so long. He sat on the couch, flicking through pages and trying to skim for what he last remembered reading while Jeongguk shouted into his headset, something about staying off base and to distract the enemy. Or something like that, Jin was never any good at those games.

A buzz from Jin’s phone made him look over, seeing a message from Yoongi. He leaned forward to grab it off the coffee table when Jeongguk had kicked it in frustration, tossing his controller on the seat next to him. The action startled Jin and he looked over to the younger male, still in shock.

“Oh, sorry hyung. Got carried away, I guess. It’s just so annoying, these guys are absolute shit at this game, I don’t know why they chose elite matches to be in.”

“Jeonggukie, language.” Jeongguk rolled his eyes but smiled at his band mate, no real malice in his action. Jin laughed it off and grabbed his phone, reading that Yoongi and Namjoon were probably going to come home late for dinner, and that they should order in. Jin considered it, not really feeling like cooking today. If he did, he’d probably make something light and easy to finish, so he wouldn’t have to be standing for long. It wasn’t often he got to sit for such long periods of time, let alone with the promise of not having to get up until the very next day to start their whole vicious cycle all over again.

“Hey Jinnie-hyung, let’s order something to eat! I’m hungry.” Jeongguk said muffled by a mouthful of seaweed chips, shoveling them in his mouth by the handful. How he was hungry still even after eating two bags of those chips and cup ramen, Jin had no idea. He was in bottomless stomach mode, ready to devour any and everything in his sights.

“Yah, JK do you think I’m made of money?”

“Of course hyung.”

“Brat.”

Jeongguk snickered and resumed his game, letting Jin return to his book in peace. Or, relative peace between the pounding rain and Jeongguk’s yelling and far-too-loud headset, that of which Jin has warned the Maknae to lower the volume on several times already.

“Oh c’mon! You guys are useless!” Jeongguk angrily spat as he exited the game room, choosing another match to partake in. Clearly, his team members were either no good or Jeongguk was just not being a good sport. Both of which were very much plausible.

Jin occasionally glanced up from his book, watching Jeongguk’s face as he focused intently on attacking his enemy and defending his home base. His tongue was out in between his teeth and his soft, cocoa hair was fanned over his forehead, freshly washed from this morning. He heard a voice coming from Jeongguk’s headset, clear enough that Jin could make it out from where he sat next to the younger.

“Hey, do you guys wanna hear something amazing?” Jeongguk didn’t respond, simply pressing harder on his controller buttons as if it’d make his attacks do more damage. “Check this out,” What followed had Jeongguk freeze where he sat, shoulders stiff as Jin looked over, appalled.

In full volume, there was a woman moaning loudly from the headset. It was downright filthy and the girl was practically screaming in ecstasy from whatever or whoever was pleasing her. Jeongguk’s ears turned red but his face drained of color, Jin’s eyes bugged out and no longer focused on his book or Jeongguk’s game.

“What the fuck?” Jin hissed, not caring about his choice of words as he looked to Jeongguk for answers, the younger still in a statuesque pose. He stuttered and stammered, trying to make some sense of what was filtering in through his chat room audio.

“Bro, that’s really hot.”

“Is that your girl? Mind sending her over for a good time?”

Jeongguk heard the other guys in his chat egging on whoever shared the audio clip, as if this was just sports over morning coffee and not legitimate, actual pornography shared amongst people who were most definitely not gathered to hear that type of stuff.

“Jeongguk, if you wanted to hear that stuff, just use the workroom for god’s sake.” Jin huffed and reached for his bottle of water, taking his book with him to go read in his room, where it’d be less awkward and weird.

“Hyung! It’s not what you think!” Jeongguk shouted after his band mate, quickly exiting out of the game and shutting off the console before running behind him. Jin had already made his way into his bed, trying to settle in comfortably but Jeongguk practically bowled through his door, forcing him to postpone his readings for a little while longer. “I swear, I didn’t know that was gonna happen. That’s not where I go if I need to… take care of the issue.”

“I know JK, you tend to take fairly long showers and you don’t really understand the concept of keeping quiet.” Jeongguk felt his face heat up, embarrassed at the prospect that he’d been loud when he took matters into his own hands during his showers. He hadn’t meant to be so vocal, it’s just so difficult to fight it when he felt that good.

“Sorry hyung, I’ll watch my volume from now on.”

“On your headset too? If you didn’t have it up all the way, I wouldn’t have heard it so clearly, so maybe you should listen to your hyung next time.” Jeongguk nodded, throat dry and it hurt as he tried to swallow. He stayed planted in the doorway, hand still on the doorknob. “Was there something else you needed, Gukkie?” Jin looked expectantly at his younger member, watching him shuffle his weight between his two socked feet.

Looking down, it made Jin realize that Jeongguk was hard, maybe not all the way so—the talking probably made him drop to half-mast—but still noticeably straining against the front of his gray sweat pants. The way he bit his lip and refused to make eye contact made it clear to Jin what the younger wanted and as much as he’d wanted to finish a chapter, he could never resist the maknae and his many charms. Jin motioned for him to come closer and Jeongguk nearly sprinted to his bed, waiting for Jin to give him his next command.

“How do you want to do this?” Jin stroked at Jeongguk’s supple thighs while he awaited an answer, the touch making his cock twitch in his pants. The younger gasped at the contact, high and whiny. It took a moment for Jeongguk to gather his wits, too focused on the warm palm now up and cradling his member.

“Want to be inside you, hyung.” Jeongguk didn’t want to beat around the bush, cutting straight to the chase. Any decently competent person would realize what he meant but Jin wanted to tease, acting coy and clueless.

“Inside where? My mouth? My hand?”

“Your ass, I want to fuck your ass, Jin-hyung.”

“Well, in that case, you better grab the lube from my drawer.” Jin simply laid down on his stomach, head facing the corner of his room as he heard Jeongguk shuffling around in the background, probably stripping as he went. Jin hadn’t even taken off his shirt yet, the tee loose on his frame but tight on his broad shoulders as he folded his arms under his head and awaited for Jeongguk to do what needed to be done.

The maknae only tore off his bottoms and briefs, keeping his dark t-shirt in place as he stroked his cock, trying to stave off some of his excitement. The click of the lube alerted Jin, reaching behind himself to pull down his own pants and underwear, only letting them go down until they hung off his legs but not having enough of a care to kick them off completely. Jeongguk clearly hadn’t minded, his palms already caressing his hyung’s ass as he marveled in what he was going to be pressed up against.

Jin laid there patiently, letting the younger’s hands roam where they pleased. He shucked his t-shirt up to his armpits when he felt Jeongguk stroking at his stomach, sliding up to tease his nipples for a little bit until they pebbled hard under his fingertips. As they slid back down, Jeongguk gave Jin a quick stroke, thumb spreading pre come over his glistening tip before retiring to his ass again. He took a cheek in each hand, a plentiful handful that Jeongguk took pride in holding, spreading them apart to see the sweet sex he was to be buried in soon enough.

Jeongguk had half a mind to want to bend down and lick his way around Jin’s ass but he’d been to riled up, too eager, and he wanted to get to the main event already. Taking the lube in hand, he squirted a generous amount over a solid digit before encircling Jin’s rim, pushing in fairly quickly.

“S-shit, ‘Guk, give me a little warning next time.” Jin chastised, hissing at the sudden intrusion. Luckily, Jin was still a little loose from this morning so the digit hadn’t hurt much, the pain ebbing away quickly to melt into pleasure. Jeongguk swiftly added more lube and a second finger to push alongside the first. He opened his hyung up well enough, knowing he was a big boy who could handle it without needing to be babied. Not that Jeongguk would anyways, his mind was on getting himself off and Jin never minded being the hole he fucked.

He took it as the responsibility of being the oldest, taking care of his maknae and helping him in any way he can with any and all his problems. When he’d originally opened up to Jin about the issue a long time ago, Jin felt the solution was simple enough: make use of himself. That way, there was no chance of scandal, Jeongguk would feel comfortable because he knew his hyung very well and it got Jin a free ride on one of the biggest cocks he’d ever laid eyes on before.

“Hyung, you ready?” Jin murmured a ‘yes’ into the pillow, gripping around it with his hands as he felt emptiness from Jeongguk’s fingers retreating. He slathered more lube onto his length and jerked himself quickly, the loud squelching incomparable to the sound of blood pounding in his ears.

Jeongguk pressed into Jin, one hand on the small of his back as he pushed in. The head of his cock breached his walls and Jeongguk groaned at the tightness that enveloped him, sucking in a long and heady breath all the way until he bottomed out, Jin’s face shoved into his pillow as he bit back any noises.

“Hyung—shit—please tell me you’re good,” Jeongguk whined, fighting the urge to pull out and slam back in until he heard from his member, watching as Jin writhed for a second, the fullness making him all sorts of dopey, until he gave a weak thumbs up. Jeongguk pulled out slowly, watching his cock slide out of Jin’s tight ass and the head caught on the rim, sucking him back in. For the first few thrusts, they were shallow and slow, testing the waters as the two of them adjusted.

The rain beat at the window and Jeongguk used it as a countermeasure to muffle Jin’s screams as he finally pulled out and fucked back in, starting a punishing pace. The sound of skin slapping skin was clearly audible in the bedroom and Jeongguk moaned lavishly at the tight velvet walls of his hyung milking him for all he’s worth.

Jeongguk felt his release rapidly approaching, his stamina still something needing to be worked on. But he didn’t want it to end just yet, wanting to have Jin be more active before he came inside him, needing to see him loving his cock as much as he loved his hyung’s ass.

He pulled out and his cock slipped out, bobbing up to his stomach, all glistening from the lube. Jin’s breathing was harsh against the pillow and Jeongguk wanted to hear him more, not have him keep the sounds to himself as he greedily spilled them into the pillow he had clutched.

“You want it hyung? Come get it,” Jeongguk held his cock out and Jin slowly made his way onto his knees, propping his torso up on his forearms. Jeongguk guided his length to his hole, only letting the tip in as he watched Jin do all the work. Jin slowly pushed back, head turned as he looked over his shoulder; at Jeongguk and his wide, hot palm caressing the apple of Jin’s ass. He bent down to bite at the supple flesh and Jin whimpered at the sensation. Not wanting his hyung to muffle himself any longer, Jeongguk raised his hand and brought it down in a harsh slap across his ass, the cheek jiggling with the motion as a spot of red blossomed where he hit.

Jin could be loud when coaxed, and Jeongguk was planning on having his hyung have his own volume issues before the end of this.

Jeongguk told Jin to go harder, faster and the older obliged, a slave to his member’s commands. The younger continued to alternate spanking on each of his ass cheeks, watching with satisfaction as they grew raw from the treatment. Jin let out a broken sob, a needy cry, and Jeongguk had had enough.

He grabbed Jin by both his hips and pistoned into him with a great force, Jin’s moans coming out broken and stuttered from the movement. It made his bed creak and the headboard knock against the window, a valiant rival for the pelting rain. Jin tried to hide his face in the pillow as he neared his release but Jeongguk pulled Jin by the hips until his ass was completely flush against Jeongguk’s groin, fully sheathed inside his hyung. The older member scrambled for the pillow but Jeongguk was relentless; not giving up until he had Jin spasming around him, walls tight as he came untouched onto his sheets.

Jeongguk fucked harder until he buried himself deep and bent to mouth at Jin’s shoulder, biting hard when he came inside his hyung. A small whimper ripped from his mouth where he was biting onto Jin, hips stuttering with the final few pumps of come being released into the other.

“Ah hyung, do you mind if I stay inside?” Jin shook his head, not trusting his tongue to form words and Jeongguk settled in all the way before gingerly laying on his side on Jin’s bed, spooning the older. He knew his bandmate was particularly sensitive after coming so he reserved his touches to be light and fleeting, bringing his hyung down from his high.

By the time the rain let up, the others had finally returned and Taehyung was excitedly running through the dorm, shouting Jeongguk’s name as he searched for the maknae, wanting to retell the events of the movie.

When he found him in his hyung’s room, balls deep and knocked out while Jin flipped another page in his book, he turned around and ran for Jimin instead, begging to have his eyes gouged out.

[smoldinopup]

Jonghyun - The Letter - 2017.06.14 - Fan account

Epic Fan Account of Doom…or Fluffiness (but that sounds less cool)

People who follow my blog attentively might know that I flew to Seoul on Monday to see Jonghyun in concert on June 14, because I only mentioned it like 14142112313 times on here. This trip went as smoothly as room tempered butter on a piece of toast. Pics and a video of my trip and some fun facts can soon be found on my travel blog, but no one cares about that now, right?

Let’s get to the actual content of this post *whips out her non-existent kazoo to play a song*

@krge @gone-with-the-bling, because you two wanted to read it! ^^

I went to SM Town at noon to buy some merchandise. I had typed down everything I wanted on my phone to make things easier for me as well as the staff working at the merchandise stand. When I arrived shortly before 12 around 30 people were already waiting in line (or more like sitting on the floor). Luckily they played Jonghyun and SHINee videos throughout the waiting time on some huge screen, so the time until 1pm passed really quickly. 

It was my turn after only 10 minutes, but by then the kazoo was already sold out, which still shocks me. Not every person in front of me bought one so I’m still wondering how many SM actually sold? 15? I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that they only sold a handful of kazoos. I already read several fan accounts that they were quite short on some of the merchandise in general, but I thought it would get better in week four. Apparently not…I’m still meeh about it, because the kazoo was the one thing I looked forward to the most. Anyway, I got my merchandise (I went a little wild *coughs*. Random side note, the T-shirt is such good quality! I’m in awe and will never take it off again! Especially compared to those flimsy T-Shirts with that ridiculous sizing they had for the FIVE tour in Japan, Jonghyun’s T-shirt can only win.) 

Left side: Jonghyun’s T-shirt (free size) Right side: SHINee’s FIVE T-shirt (size S). The thing with the FIVE T-shirts, before you wash them the print looks beautiful because it’s holographic. After washing it this effect is gone. The material is also much thinner than the one they used for the Jonghyun T-shirt, and the sizing was ridiculous. Those T-shirts were super short as you can see in the photo, but super wide (it’s like a crop trop in a way) I don’t even know how Minho wore that T-shirt with his long upper body. Jonghyun’s T-shirt on the other hand... I mean you want to wrap yourself up in it and pull it down to your knees (which I can’t, because I’m too tall, but smaller people can wear it as a dress, which is adorable). They were produced in different countries, which might be a reason for the difference in quality. I don’t know, but SM please produce your Japanese tour shirts somewhere else in future!

After taking photos with the shining babes at the photo booths (SM ships 2min and Jongkey…just saying) I went back to the SM merchandise shop to buy some more SHINee merchandise and then did some sightseeing around Seoul before coming back at 7pm for the actual concert that started at 8pm.

I sat in the left block in the third row, which was amazing, and I wish I had been able to stenograph during this whole concert to capture all the details as soon as they happened like

[Jonghyun perked his eyebrow | Dead | He just growled | Deader | He smiled | Deadest]

But yeah, that didn’t happen. So please bear with me, I try to write it down as accurately as I can remember it, but like I already mentioned in my ‘fan accounts’ for the SHINee concerts I’m only human (an old one on top of that) and I can’t possibly remember everything (even if it breaks my heart). So please be aware that the following passages will be filled with a lot of cringe worthy love that I feel for this adorable human being. 

You have been warned! 

So, grab a snack, make yourself comfortable and enjoy the ride. I should just write this like a fan fiction…lmao (maybe not)

The opening VCR was him riding in a car and then walking along the beach. The presentation of the video was so nicely done, because they switched screens from left, to middle, to right as Jonghyun walked along the beach, so the audience basically followed him in his steps. He also looked astonishingly beautiful in that VCR, but let’s be real…when doesn’t he look astonishingly beautiful. The VCR was shot together with the video to ‘Lonely’, because the beach and the outfit he wore were the same as in the music video.

We stood up for the opening songs, which is always nice of course, but also made me very uncomfortable, because I was a head taller than anyone else in my block, and I constantly worried that people behind me might not be able to see the stage that well. Sorry people who sat behind me, I can’t do anything about my height T_T. Like I mentioned above I was sitting in row three, but I forgot my glasses at the hostel and therefore Jonghyun was still a little fuzzy around the edges, and I naturally tilted my head to look at the screen from time to time (force of habit…which I acquired during the Japanese concerts). 

Jonghyun wore a white T-shirt instead of the red one for the opening stage. Something like one, two, three Seoul Youth was written on it. But I’m not completely sure if that’s completely accurate, so don’t nail me down on it. 

Just like the red T-Shirt he sleeves of the white one had been generously cut off. However, I sat on the wrong side and only caught a glimpse of the tattoo on his ribs. Pity! But better than the T-shirt were those jeans! His jeans were torn in all the right places and whenever his legs moved one could see the muscles nicely contract in his thighs (is that too detailed, I wonder?) Anyway, I can attest that the boy got some booty and thighs now (@every-person-who-has-an-url-talking-about-jjongs-non-existent-butt-might-consider-an-url-change). I have to admit that I spent the majority of the first three songs with looking at his thighs and butt. I’m sorry, Jonghyun. Please forgive me my rudeness! I’m just not used to seeing you having an actual booty.

There were dancers accompanying Jonghyun for a lot of the songs again. Though, while I thought they are a nice touch during the X-Inspiration concert, they often felt like too much for this concert series, and to me it didn’t feel like they added much to the performances. But that’s just my opinion, and I’m sure others loved the dancers. As I mentioned in my “I’m screaming into the void, but I have to scream anyway post” right after the concert, Jonghyun came to the left side of the stage in the beginning of ‘White T-Shirt’ and pointed into my direction while saying ‘You’re so rock n roll’. He could have also pointed at all of us, but let me have this one little moment of fangirl love and let’s all assume he did point at me, because I stood out the most in a lot of ways, and yes, I’m more rock n roll than even Mr. Kim will probably ever be, so it would have been very fitting. (ﾉ≧∀≦)ﾉ lmao

So, that being said I was totally overwhelmed by all the fan chants. I mean sometimes I love doing them, but at other times it feels suffocating and too much, like I’m part of some Army? I have the Japanese SHINee fan chants down perfectly. You can wake me up in the middle of the night, play me a random Japanese SHINee song and I will do every fan chant perfectly (including synchronized fan light movements). I’m also quite confident in doing the Korean ones, but most of the Jonghyun ones just exhausted me. I can’t even remember if we did all of them in December? December is still such a blur. It’s a pity that I didn’t write everything down back then, because my brain is weak and so was my heart. Anyway, it took me a few songs to get into the right fan chant groove.

When the VCR to Rewind played I was shocked to hear Jonghyun speak German. I was like O.O ??? What is this foreign but familiar sounding language doing here? Is he Lady Gaga? There was Spanish, and Japanese as well…I wonder how he came up with using German and Spanish from all existing languages. Did he open Google and ask ‘How to count in different languages’ and he thought those are the fancy sounding ones? Or did Jonghyun think ‘Roo’s ancestors were German, so let’s go with some Rammstein vibes’. Either way I’m still not over it. Kim Autobahn you can speak random German words to me all day. The video was just like the song title… very repetitive. Jonghyun did the same things again and again. But I believe by now most have seen the snippet of the VCR that was posted a while ago.

I have to admit that I was a little disappointed in ‘Suit Up’. It is one of my favorite songs on the album. The band was way too loud and overpowered the softness of Jonghyun’s voice while singing the beginning of this song. The audio technicians should have changed the volume of the microphone or something since it’s never a good thing if the band is louder than the singer. As of the performance of the song, Jonghyun was rolled inside on some arm chair by some pretty female dancers who tried to ‘seduce him?’ I’m not sure, but they also stripped him off his purple jacket and his tie later into the performance, so I guess we can call it the art of seducing Kim Jonghyun. But like I’ve mentioned earlier while I loved the dancers during the concert in December, I felt like they didn’t fit the mood for the letter series, but do you do Jonghyun or SM, whoever decided that it’s a good idea to include dancers. He wore a purple suit during this segment by the way. There was a fan account that stated that he looked slimmer, because the pants fitted looser around his thighs than they had done before. I agree with that account since the pants indeed were a little looser, but I’m not sure this had anything to do with weight loss. Is it possible to lose so much weight around one’s thighs in a mere week? I don’t know. I don’t know. It also doesn’t matter…he looks beautiful no matter the shape or size! So, let’s move on.

‘Staring into Space’ was absolutely adorable, but I didn’t expect anything else, just watching him put on the robe and the little bed cap made everyone in the audience squeal in delight and him smile shyly in return. He knows he looks adorable in that outfit, but he still always acts surprised when the audience is more excited about him dressing up in cutesy outfits than seeing him undress himself. Anyway, the props for this performance stood on the left side of the stage. Some boxes, some lights, something he could sit/lie on. I’m not sure what it was exactly, something like a bench covered in pillows and a blanket? At first he only sat on it while singing, and I was already like…boooohh everyone said how adorable you get during this performance, don’t disappoint me now! As if he had heard my thoughts he lay down with that little dog plushie (that wore some polka dotted hoodie) and pulled down the sleeping mask, and then playfully tugged the mask down on one side so only one eye peeked out. You can imagine the squeals coming from all sides. He continued with pulling the other side down as well so his nose and his mouth were basically covered by the sleeping mask. It looked adorable. He’s such an adorable human being and he’s very aware of that. After the performance ended he got up to take the robe off and he was quite amused by the disappointed reaction of the audience, because everyone wanted to see him continuing the concert in that outfit. It’s definitely a look! Next SHINee comeback should include sleeping masks and robes.

For ‘Blinking Game’ some fancy looking lights were lowered onto the stage behind Jonghyun, and the scenery gave off the atmosphere of some fancy jazz club, and one only waited for a contrabass to start playing.

We used the hand bells for ‘Gloomy Clock’, and Jonghyun had a lot of fun altering the rhythm randomly to confuse the audience. Sometimes he really does act like a little kid, having the most fun by bringing mischief to the stage. But it shows how much he enjoys performing, and seeing him have so much fun, makes one’s heart feel really warm and fuzzy.

I’m quite sad that the talk segments were basically me sitting around and having no idea what Jonghyun was talking about. That’s what I personally like about the Japanese concerts, because there I understand most of the things they say, which is quite nice. But yeah, it’s not their fault that I don’t speak Korean. Anyway, before the cockroach song he looked for a couple again (apparently there was none…or no one wanted to out themselves) so he picked out some girl who had been single for a very long time. I only understood a few words, and tried to figure out the content of their conversation by clutching onto every straw that was thrown, and after that one fan account I was surprised to realize that I wasn’t that off with my speculations. It was really fun listening to their conversation, because that girl was very fierce (I loved her since she was not shy to voice her opinion) and ranted so much that she apologized several times when Jonghyun got all ㅎㅅㅎ--- O_O--- :’D and wondered why she sounded like she was mad at him. It was adorable. She mentioned Minho at some point, but I’m not sure what she said. Did she refer to him as her ideal type? I don’t know. 

The cockroach song was awesome live, and the animation of the cockroaches were so adorable! Especially when one cockroach was sitting on Jonghyun’s head. He got all embarrassed when he saw himself on the screen with that cockroach head on his, and started laughing. Speaking of little, embarrassed Jonghyun. He also got very shy when all the fans excitedly waved their fan lights around when he sung the now infamous lyrics of ‘Where are you?” You know the drill. It was amusing. But what else did he expect the reaction of fans to be when he wrote those lyrics? Probably no one is going to look at him in disgust when he sings ‘Where is the person who is going to kiss me?’ Are there any fan accounts about what Minho did during this part when he attended the concert yesterday? I expect Choi to jump up from his seat and point at himself!

The second girl he talked to was one of the people who sent in letters. I have absolutely no idea what the conversation was about, but she was very shy and said annyeonghaseyo very, very awkwardly and shyly and also sounded slightly bored on top of it (an interesting mix), which Jonghyun apparently found quite amusing and mimicked the greeting in the same awkward manner and tone. We can conclude Jonghyun likes to play and tease the audience. In general I got the feeling that he really enjoys talking to the fans, listen to their stories, and give them advice. It felt like group therapy session with Doctor Kim. For the talk segments he walked around the stage and when reading the letters he sat in an arm chair in the middle of it. At some point he was wearing a huge white shirt with a wide collar and some pretty necklace. It was such a nice and dreamy outfit. Did I mention how beautiful his eye make-up was done? His eyes looked so pretty and shiny, and… *inserts all the hearts*.

The stages I feared the most were the ones starting off with ‘Let me out’. I really thought I would start crying him a river right then and there, but luckily that didn’t happen. The prop for this stage consisted of some cocoon looking 2m tall foldable wall that surrounded him, and he wore all black with a black corsage like binder around his waist. Let me tell you that corsage did things to his figure. I mean we all know he has a tiny waist, but that binder only emphasized that, which made his shoulders and arms look massive while it made his waist look even tinier. Especially when seen from the side with the light falling onto him he looked like some statute in a museum. I think this was my favorite outfit of the night, because he just looked very dark and mysterious, but also very soft and beautiful at the same time. This guy is just a contradiction, but what else is new.

Like some fan accounts already stated the performance to ‘Let me out’ is quite intense and Jonghyun puts his everything into it, but just like with ‘Suit up’ the band overpowered him during the quieter parts, which is a pity. I don’t know if this was a general problem and just no one mentioned it until now, because fans tend to throw all form of critic out of the window as soon as they are graced by his presence or if the concert I attended was an exception. Maybe they should have arranged those songs differently, because performing them live requires some special attention in my opinion so the haunting feeling of the music and lyrics get across to the audience.  After ‘Let me out’ Jonghyun pushed the cocoon open and continued with ‘Elevator’, one of my all-time favorite Jonghyun songs. It was very powerful and I sat in the audience with goosebumps.

The duets between Jonghyun and Shawols were beautiful. He should consider recording a song with a bunch of Shawols as duet partners in future. I especially liked the Shawol duet to ‘Love belt’, because it makes it easier to yell ‘I NEED YOU. I LOVE YOU…HOLD ME’ at Jonghyun without seeming like a crazy person. (/・・)ノ

The VCR before the encore seems to change every so often and while it was a rice brand Jonghyun advertised last week, he did some advertising for a drink this week. He tried to act as if he was seducing that bottle in his hand, and ran it along his face and so on. It looked hilarious. I laughed so hard. I live for funny VCRs. After the video ended everyone’s head suddenly turned to the entrance of the theater, and I was like ‘What is going on? Why is everyone turning their head around?’ I figured out why around ten seconds later when Jonghyun came down the aisle on the left side for ‘Deja Boo’ and everyone started screaming. Holy guacamole I wasn’t ready for seeing Jonghyun that close. I thanked all existing Gods on this planet that I sat in the left block so he passed me only a few feet away and came to a halt right in front of my block. HE’S SO TINY!!!! *USES ALL CAPSLOCK IN THE EXISTENCE OF CAPSLOCK* AND SO BEAUTIFUL!!!! Wow, I was so dumbfounded that I just stared at him like the weak fangirl I am. How do people survive fan signs? I mean yes, he’s just a normal human being, no need to put him on any pedestals (that’s 100% correct) but holy daisy…if he isn’t one of the most beautiful human beings I was able to lay my eyes on. His skin was glowing! If it had been me standing right in front of him in that first row I probably would have gaped at him without feeling any shame. He has just a very engaging aura. I mean it is one thing to see him up close on stage, but when he’s literally on eyelevel with you…oh my oh my…how do people manage to act all normal around him? Are they dying on the inside from all the tiny firework explosions and fan feels? Tell me your secrets survivors of the US fan meets!

Random anecdote: 10 years ago I met my back then favorite guitar player during a meet and greet and expected to die right then and there. However, I didn’t die and I carried a table with him instead and told him how tiny he is, which resulted in the singer laughing and saying ‘Well, what a nice compliment!’ Me being as smooth as a spiky cactus. So thinking about this fan girl episode of mine I probably would say something stupid instead of dying inside. But I matured, I wouldn’t call Jonghyun tiny to his face. I learned from this embarrassing episode that still haunts me at night sometimes.

The concert ended with ‘Fortune Cookie’ and ‘Beautiful tonight’. As always Jonghyun directed the audience during ‘Beautiful tonight’ and I looked at every kazoo around me in envy. I wanted to become a kazoo kid. I will forever be bitter about this. But I might just buy one from ebay and start my kazoo career anyway. No need for Jonghyun’s concert logo on this genius music instrument. I loved how he cherished every single person in the band accompanying him, and jammed along to every instrument. He played air bass guitar, it was so adorable and cute and I just wanted to pinch his cheeks and pat his head.

The ending of a concert always makes me feel very empty and this time was no different. As soon as Jonghyun left the stage I felt a wave of ‘So this was it. The final goodbye’. It’s always the worst part of a concert, because you just don’t want it to be over yet. The concert was a little over 2 hours, I believe, and everyone stormed out of the concert hall to wave Jonghyun goodbye at SM Town’s side entrance. When I arrived at SM Town that day I tried to figure out where all those ‘Arrival’ and ‘Departure’ photos had been taken, but I didn’t have to look long for it, because the entrance is right next to the actual entrance of SM Town. So, I followed the crowd and waited behind a barrier. I think at least half of the audience waited for him there, and most of them had their phones and cameras ready, already filming the door. Some of the girls even had little stools they could stand on so they could see the entrance better. He exited the building shortly after, waved into the crowd like usual and then disappeared into the waiting car. Nothing too dramatic…

It was a beautiful concert; very cozy and somehow very intimate. I for one belong to the group of people who prefer small venues, and I never understand why some fans have it as a goal to attend a Tokyo Dome concert at least once in their lives. I mean you do you, but it sounds more fun than it actually is. I already disliked the size of Saitama Super Arena with a little over 30.000 seats and I don’t want to imagine how a hall filled with over 50.000 must feel like. Yes, the ocean might look beautiful with 50.000, but it already looks beautiful with 500, so I don’t know what the big deal is…especially if you happen to only get a ticket on the fourth/fifth floor. But to each their own I guess. One needs to have a goal in life after all, and if it’s attending a SHINee concert, then that’s a really good one! So, you go Shawols! ^^

I should end this here, but I want to add a last note on the global packages. Last year I got a global package for the first X-Inspiration concert, because a) I didn’t know better b) his first concert was on my birthday and therefore I wanted to go there whatever the cost. As most of you know the global packages are very pricy to begin with, but in the case of the X-Inspiration concerts they also offered a lot in return, and you could choose the price category of the hotel. So after calculating everything, I thought, well the price is not too bad, and I still don’t regret buying that package, because it was a wonderful experience that I treasure a lot. However, this time the prices for the global packages were even higher, you couldn’t choose the price category, and they offered nothing at all except for the goodies. All I thought was ‘SM, what are you doing???’ This being said, if you have the money, just go for it, but if you are on a budget you might want to look around a little. There are trustworthy Korean sites which people use to resell their tickets and if you are lucky enough you might find a ticket to a reasonable price. The one I found was only 40$ more than the original price and was a seat in the third row, so I’m not complaining.

So, in conclusion: Did I have fun at the concert? Yes, I did! Was it enjoyable? Yes, definitely. Would I do it again? Oh yeah, anytime. There is just something about Jonghyun or SHINee as a whole group that makes me incredibly happy, and I’m very thankful that they never fail to put a smile onto my face.  ♡

Thank you! (♡＾▽＾♡)

[sorayahigashikata]

Chapter 28: "MacGuffin's Bizarre Delivery Service"