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shhhlikeme · 4 years

Note

Hi love, just wanted to say that you’re so gorgeous and have a lovely smile. I’m a dark skin black girl and have often been told/read hurtful posts about us, but now I’m more confident than ever about being a dark skin girl 🥰.If it’s not too much to ask could you do any character you want with that has a date with his s/o and when he arrives she just glowing in her yellow dress. Like idk if you get the vibe I’m tryna put down but the melanin is hitting different 🤤

Thank you so much for the compliments omg ❤️❤️❤️

BLACK IS BEAUTIFUL. YOU ARE beautiful! I know black women don’t hear that a lot and that’s why I will tell y’all everyday if I need to. Also, today is national economic blackout day for the culture, therefore I waited to post this today.

& as per your message I absolutely get the vibe!!!!! And you know I had to choose the GOAT Akaashi for this since you left it up to me👀

Here goes:

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Akaashi Keiji x Black Crush In a Beautiful Yellow Dress (Fluff)

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Akaashi was NOT ready.

You and Akaashi had been besties for 10 or so years, because your moms have been in the same book club since elementary school

Even though you recently graduated from to different high schools, you both had a good and healthy friendship

You knew that he wasn’t big on talking a lot but you spoke even less than him so it honestly worked well

He was into volleyball and you were really serious about dance

Your moms would always say you just “get” eachother

To Keiji, he was content with having the best of both worlds as best friends: Bokuto: the loud boisterous one, and You: the quiet, beautiful one

Wait did he say beautiful? He meant um... the quiet, wallflower one. sure

Nah he definitely meant beautiful too.

Tbh, Akaashi was very attracted to you via your personality because you were thoughtful, intelligent and relaxing to be around

He thinks of you as the human embodiment of a warm bath at the end of a moving day

And as for your looks.....

Bokuto put his best friends physical attraction to you into words best when he said:

“You want to have Y/N’s babies, don’t you Akaashi? Hmmmmm?”

Akaashi, deadpanning asf, would always answer

“No I do not.”

But when Bokuto would continuously catch him on your instagram page he would keep asking like the pushy friend he is.

At Bokuaka sleepovers, or when they were completely alone is the only time Akaashi would reluctantly but honestly respond to Bokuto’s question with a:

“I wouldn’t mind.”

which is basically undying admission of love by Akaashi standards

Basically, he was crushing on you hard

He admired your dark hair that you always changed into different styles because he never understood how you made them all look attractive

He admired your full lips that he always seemed to have to internally yell at himself to stop staring at when you spoke

He admired your kind and gentle spirit that always seemed to gravitate toward earth tones in attire-expression and he never seemed to understand why

He guessed that being the wallflower that you are; dark colours like black, brown, beige, grey, moss, etc. Acted as a shield as to not bring too much attention to you

He didn’t really care that you stuck to wearing earth tones because you looked beautiful no matter what you wore

But in his dreams he’d always pictured you in bright pink, blue, orange lingerie shirts

He was curious so he asked one day

totally not because he wanted to know how realistic his dreams could be

“Y/N, why do you only wear dark colours?” Asked the most beautiful guy in the world Akaashi as he turned the steering wheel making a left onto the parkway.

The two of you were going to his brother’s wedding rehearsal dinner. You had decided to wear a simple dark button down blouse tucked into a grey pencil skirt. Your curly hair was up in a messy bun and you had your glasses on. You thought you looked whatever.

Akaashi, on the other hand, thought you looked stunning. And like a hot librarian. He tried his best to keep his eyes on the road and not your exposed legs as you sat beside him in the passenger seat.

“Do I?” You looked down at yourself and sighed. You’d never really noticed before, but he was right. You just felt more comfortable in tones that didn’t make you stand out.

“Yeah. Why don’t you try wearing a bright colour sometime? I think......I think you’d look really nice.” Keiji’s eyes looked unaffected as ever but inside he was kicking himself for flirting with you, knowing how shy you are.

“Oh, okay.” Your heart fluttered at your friend’s compliment and you distracted yourself by taking your eyeglasses off and using your blouse collar to clean it where it opened on your chest.

Akaashi almost crashed because when you did that your blouse opened more exposing your glowing chocolate skin. In his mind, his imagination took over and he pulled over to ravish your beautiful skin by ripping open the blouse and kissing your gorgeous dark skin. His eyes glazed over as he imagined you telling him that you want him closer than this car allowed and so he dropped your seat down and got on top of you, kissing your delicious lips and then going back to taste your delicious skin. You were moaning in his ear which was the best sound he’s ever heard and then it was his turn to moan when you reached down to stroke his hard........

“KEIJI-SAN WATCH OUT!”

Keiji was thrust back into reality when he rapidly swerved back into his own car lane. The first thing he did was check to see if you were okay and he was able to breathe again when he saw you looking back at him laughing that angelic laugh. You placed your glasses back on your beautiful face and Akaashi apologized. He asked if you were scared and wanted him to stop driving because he was obviously a new driver. You only placed a hand on his arm and shook your head, assuring him in your quiet voice.

“It’s okay Kashi’, I know you’re a great driver. I trust you.”

“Y-you do?”

“Of course. I trust you more than anyone.” You gave him that smile that he thinks about before he goes to sleep every night and just like that he relaxed and all was well in the world again. He thought back to Bokuto’s daily question, admitting to himself that he not only wanted to have your babies, he wanted to have the pleasure of calling you his girlfriend or anything higher. He’d definitely accept wife.

“Maybe I’ll go shopping with my mom and find a colour to wear to the wedding, you know, take your advice.”

“That would be great.” He pulled into the beach wedding venue parking lot. “I’m ready to see the new Y/N.”

But Akaashi was NOT ready

He was absolutely the furthest thing from ready, 3 weeks later, when he picked you up on his brothers wedding day.

He knew you were still getting ready inside and so he decided to enjoy the weather and lean on his car hood to wait

You never took long because you were a natural beauty, but you put on a little bit of makeup today

You grabbed your clutch and touched up your edge control before spritzing yourself with some of Akaashi’s favourite perfume

You went outside and locked your door.

Turning around, you literally wanted to freeze this moment in time, because THE Keiji Akaashi—literally the most stunning boy 90% of girls have ever seen—was standing outside of his car, much to your surprise

He had his navy blue tuxedo jacket folded over his left arm and he wore a light grey dress shirt underneath held together by a black bow tie. His disheveled hair looked like he had sat in the barber chair of Jesus himself and he hadn’t noticed your arrival yet since you were still on the steps of your deck.

You took a second to compose yourself before stepping toward him as if everything was normal—as if you weren’t lawlessly crushing on this man.

Hearing your heels clack on the smoothed pavement, Akaashi lifted his head up to see you

Remember when I said he was not ready?

Allow me to show you exactly what he wasn’t ready for:

Akaashi felt as though all the air left his lungs when he saw you.

He told you to wear a bright colour but he didn’t know the yellow dress and your dark skin-combo would make him feel like crying

After seeing you in greys and blacks and dull nudes his whole life and still looking pretty, he couldn’t handle himself when you wore a colour that accurately communicated how he sees you: like his literal light

“Good God,” Akaashi gulped.

Keiji is a well-known quiet guy, but even his loudest friend Bokuto wouldn’t be able to beat how loud his emotions screamed at him from inside when he looked at you. You literally had him by the heartstrings, looking like that.

He realized that he is embarassed to admit all that he would give to see you in a yellow bra and panty set.

You smiled up and him and did a spin, so he could see the full picture of the dress. His eyes missed the dress because he couldn’t stop looking at your face.

“I saw it on a mannequin at the mall the other day and never thought my skin would go with it... but after what you said I went back to get it and—“

“Y/N. You— you look—-that colour—-your skin—-You—I—Good....God,” he repeated himself. Akaashi was only slightly disappointed that he couldn’t express to you how much your skin tone WAS MADE for this colour. You were magical.... a queen.

He didn’t want to go to his brothers wedding anymore. He wanted to stand there and stare at the way the sunlight hit your complexion and glistened. He wanted to stand there and have you spin around for him again. He wanted to have your mf-ing babies.

“You’re doing that thing again, Kashi. The thing you did in the car? Don’t we have to go pick up Bokuto, now? Let’s go!”

You gave him a ‘chop chop’ snap and climbed in the car.

When you got in you were so thankful for your dark skin because your blush wasn’t showing. The way your best friend has been looking at you was too passionate, too deep, too full of emotional and physical desire. It made you want to tell him your feelings.

outside, Keiji had still been in a trance, letting out one more “Good.....God,” before he had to literally slapped himself and hopped in the car.

Think of Bokuto Think of Bokuto Think of Bokuto, he chanted internally before pulling out of your driveway.

Speaking of the devil......

“AKAAAASHI!” Yelled his grey-headed best friend as he pulled open the back door of his car. “And, who’s that—wait—Y/N?!”

You gave your best friend’s best friend a weak smile. You were so embarassed by the way he was looking at you.

Bokuto slammed the door behind him and applauded loudly. “Now, I’ve always been jealous whenever you take my Akaashi away from me because he wants to spend time with you, but now I understand why. You’re a 10 when you aren’t hiding behind those freaking vampire colours!!!”

“Bokuto.” Akaashi reprimanded his annoying friend and Bokuto pretended to zip his lips and throw away the key.

Meanwhile, you were regretting wearing this colour. It drew the attention that you always tried hard to avoid.

Akaashi noticed your internal regret, even while driving....so he reached over to place a hand on your thigh.

“Y/N, you said you trust me right?”

You looked at him for a second before nodding.

Keiji elevated at the admission. “Then, trust me when I say you look beautiful. I’m so happy you wore that dress today.”

You smiled, that smile only reserved for him again, and he just about proposed on the spot.

“AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!! Hey, hey, hey! Maybe you two love birds should be the ones getting marr—“

Akaashi deadpanned in the rear view mirror, catching Bokuto’s eye immediately. “Bokuto.”

Frightened, Bokuto muttered a quick “Shutting up.” Before actually doing so.

Don’t get him wrong. Akaashi was happy to have his best guy friend at the wedding.

Very happy.

Because Boku was like an alarm...warning him whenever he was acting like a freak around the the girl he has a crush on

Bokuto would just nudge him and smirk whenever Akaashi was drawing attention to himself because he was looking at you in the crowd when his attention should be on his brother and his fiancé saying their vows.

When Akaashi saw you and your mom run over to dip your feet in the water on the beach, then run away because a cold wave hit up to your shins, your smile radiant and your yellow dress flying in the wind, Bokuto nudged him again because he was staring when he had to take pictures with the groom

At night, when Keiji was throwing back shots way more than Bokuto knew his best friend to even like, simply because one of his brothers groomsmen had been talking to you for the better part of the hour and he didn’t fucking like it, Bokuto not only nudged Keiji but he told the bartender to cut him off.

“Go talk to Y/N.” Bokuto grabbed the drink out of Keiji’s hand and drank it.

Akaashi shook his head. “No. S-she’s out of my league.”

Bokuto scoffed. “You do know that you’re literally the best looking person I’ve ever seen in my life right? Like seriously. You look like your face was made in a fucking lab. By chicks. By hot chicks, like Y/N, working together to come up with concoctions to Science their way to make the best looking dude—“

Keiji rolled his eyes. “Is there a point coming at the end of this?”

“Yeah. There is, impatient pants. I was going to say that I wonder if the hot chicks who made you wore bikinis the whole time while they leaned over eachother fighting over the pencil for the blueprint sketches—“

“A point about Y/N, Bokuto! Y/N. The only girl I care about. The only girl I want to talk about. Come back down to this earth. Where. Is. The. Point?”

“Oh. Yeah. Geez, take a chill pill will ya?”

“Bokuto......” He warned. Already on edge because you were now slow dancing with that guy at the wedding instead of being the wallflower you usually were. He liked it better when he was the only one who noticed you. In a way.... But then he remembered how colourful you looked when you got complimented all day and he immediately retracted the thought. Akaashi wanted nothing more than for you to reach your fullest potential, and wearing colours that expressed your beauty would be step one. He yearned to be the one who could bring you up the rest of the steps, because he’d tell you everyday how damn amazing you are. He just wished you weren’t so damn alluring to the majority of men.

Bokuto held his hands up in surrender. “Damn! Okay. Look, my point is...that it doesn’t matter how good looking you are or Y/N is, because everyone knows that even if you two were fugly you’d still have the love story of the generation because your connection is on a whole other level.”’

“What?” Keiji jeered. He didn’t like the idea of your name and ‘anything but beautiful’ being in the same sentence.

“Man, chill. Look, I won’t say anything else. I’m just going to grab Y/N from Mr. I-Didn’t-Make-It-To-The-NFL-But-I-Can-Still-Pull-A-Trophy-Wife over there. When she gets here, try not to ‘Good God’ her to death, hm? She’s gorgeous, yes, but like I said—so are you. Inside and out.”

Without listening to his denial like always, Bokuto somehow slipped in to the dance you were currently having and began dancing with Y/N

As a dancer, you loved moments when you could do it, and Akaashi was falling harder for you every time you spun around elegantly

Bokuto made some bs excuse about not being able to dance for long and waved his best friend over

Akaashi’s legs moved automatically because he has been wanting to be near you the entire night.

Like a fairytale ball sequence, Bokuto handed you off and you were now met with the waiting and hesitant arms of your best friend

Keiji asked if it was alright to touch your waist and you smiled and said yes

As you two danced, you going at the pace you knew Akaashi would be best at.....you took a second to really feel the energy

Your bodies were like magnets and you two were feeling the pull like never before

you leaned forward to rest your head against your best friends chest as you settled into a simple back and forth sway

As he held your waist closer and rubbed his thumbs soothingly in the crevice of your back dimples......

You understood that what you were now feeling was love

What you’ve been feeling for months, what you felt when you spoke to him of trust, when you watched him drive, when he put an extra blanket on you when you two watched movies, when he looked at you in your yellow dress, when you rested your head on his chest.....your mind, body and soul were all telling you one thing. They were louder than ever now. Shouting at you to tell Akaashi those 3 magic words so you two could see where the next level of your relationship would take you. It wouldn’t take much to say—

“I love you.”

Flabbergasted with yourself, you jumped back from his chest so you were looking at him. You couldn’t believe you had the audacity to say it!!!!!

Your mind now jumbled, you thought of an excuse to blame it on the 0% alcohol you had had before you realized..........that you don’t have a deep voice............nor have you opened your mouth since you rested your head on your best friend’s chest.......

“Wh-what?” You asked breathlessly.

Akaashi was looking down at you, confident that he had made you wear a dress that brought out your beauty so fiercely that it ultimately forced him to confess.

“I love you, Y/N. And if we’re always talking about trust......Then trust me when I tell you that I think I always have.”

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I find I enjoy writing both nsfw and fluff equally and you guys request it basically half and half, so the next post will be much more smutty cause you know--balance.

#black reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #akaashi x y/n #akaashi x you #fluff #sfw #haikyuu requests #haikyuu!!#haikyuu boys #haikyuu romance #black lives matter

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thechembow · 4 years

Text

To the woman who assaulted me at Ace Hardware today,

Jan. 15, 2021

I am your neighbor in Frazier Park. I love this mountain and feel so blessed to live here. You must enjoy its beauty as much as I do, because it is unsurpassed. The woods and wildlife give me solace. I have also always had good experiences among the humans of the mountain, shopping locally, where we all know each other and everyone is friendly. I like supporting our community and keeping everyone working and happy. I’ve never had a bad time shopping in Frazier Park, so it was somewhat of a shock to meet you this way today.

My husband and I were picking up some bird seed at Ace Hardware. If you live in Frazier Park and not in Pine Mountain Club, it’s still legal to feed the birds! We love our feathered friends. They have also been giving me nice brass shavings from their key machine which I use to make orgonite, an energy device which promotes rainfall, clears air pollution, and makes living with EMF safer. My husband, Gabe, and I have been making and gifting orgonite for almost seven years now, and we have covered all of California and much of the US west to end the drought. You might be interested to know that we have put orgonite all over this mountain too. It sure has been snowing more and more every year since we got here and the forests are alive with new baby trees, far outnumbering the trees that die of old age. There were awesome wildflower blooms out in the Antelope Valley and Gorman these past few years. It might also comfort you to know that there are Earth pipes along San Andreas Fault here and at the top of Mt. Pinos, healing the damage that was done here by your ancestors, who stole the land from the Chumash Indians and clear-cut the forests. This will help prevent earthquakes. We have gifted somewhere around 200 orgonite pieces to these mountains, from the Grapevine to the Central Coast. I wrote a book about it too. Our life and most of our resources have gone into planetary healing.

Now that you know a little more about me, I would like to know more about you. I wasn’t covering my face today like you were because I am not a member of your religion. We should be tolerant of other peoples’ beliefs. I am tolerant of your choice to hide your face from your Creator, although I don’t agree with it. I would never hit you and insult you for wearing a mask or for any other reason. What told you that I was to be deplored because of my exposed nose and mouth? When you called me a “f-ing b-tch” and punched me in the ribs, it didn’t hurt physically because you’re old and weak. But I was wondering if it was your mom or dad who taught you to do that? Did you learn it in school or in church? I’ve never been cursed at and hit by an old woman before.

I put on the mask in order not to offend you, although I didn’t have to. You continued to yell, and you were very close to me when you yelled that I would infect you. If I’m so disgusting and disease-ridden, it would be a good idea to stand a few feet away from me when you insult me. I think about 6 feet should do it. It’s also not a good idea to punch a sick person because you could get my germs on your hand. How come you disappeared out the back door when I called out, “She assaulted me!” If you’re right, you should stick around.

Incidentally, soon after we met, I tried to run into the grocery store to grab some garlic. Like at the hardware store, the employees there never get on my case for my need to breathe and show the face God gave me. I got verbally assaulted there by a customer again, which wasn’t as bad as being hit and verbally assaulted at the same time. But the woman there was much younger than you, so you may want to give her some pointers on how to really hurt your neighbor. She said, “You’re killing my family.” She also blamed me for her sick dog. It was more likely a combination of pinworms, Ascaris, a variety of liver and intestinal flukes, some tapeworms, solvents and heavy metals that killed them, along with the ventilators they pop peoples’ lungs with if they come into the hospital with a cold. I’m reading a fascinating book right now called The Cure for All Diseases by Dr. Hulda Clark. It explains all of these diseases you think are infectious and how to cure them. You need to zap your parasites and stop sharing your worms! Stop putting filth in your mouth and reinfecting yourself, says Dr. Clark. Germs are not jumping around in the air. You can learn to heal anything that’s wrong with you with this book.

In your case, you’re definitely watching too much news. I would venture to guess you’re also taking an assortment of pharmaceutical drugs which are masking symptoms of your own worms and the bacteria and viruses they carry. You probably use a smart phone. Lots of old people who don’t even understand the technology do. I wish you would be more like my grandma, who never hit a lady in the store nor uttered an obscenity. She never would have used a smart phone either. She was beautiful, strong, dignified, spoke several languages, loved fine art, cooked great meals and enjoyed life. It’s sad what a shriveled lump of fear you’re become. My grandma survived the very oppression you are doling out today by a miracle of God. Goodness knows, her life was in danger every moment for being Jewish and from Germany at the wrong time. Now I also feel like I’m in danger. If you’ll physically assault a stranger for having a different belief, then what if someone stronger or armed would do it? This is not something I want to find out. Fortunately I have a relationship with God who protects me and am saved by Messiah Yeshua. He reconciled me back to God who forgave my sin of falling into pagan culture like you have. Your world is a fantasy land, but it’s really more like a nightmare, and it is dying like you have died.

There were a few people in the store after you fled the scene who showed me sympathy. But I now know how bad things have gotten. You showed me that today. You made me feel physically sick, not just emotionally distressed, with a little help from your insane ally at the grocery store. Just last week I could go into most places in Frazier Park with my face showing. It seems your time is running out and your world is spiraling out of control. For now, I would rather not argue with you. I will cover my face in your presence and you won’t know I don’t worship your god. It gives me more inspiration to become more self-reliant and less dependent on the businesses of your world. I hate the mask with a passion. I hate what it represents and how you look in it. I think it’s very sad that you love your pathetic false god and believe this absolutely ridiculous narrative to the point that you would assault another woman. C0VID is a mental illness!

Well that’s all for now. I hope to hear from you soon. Maybe you will realize it was wrong to hit me and curse at me and I’ll forgive you. Then we can be friends and have a kosher barbeque when the weather warms up. I’m not holding my breath, no pun intended.

Your neighbor,

Sharon Daphna

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jae-yoonie · 5 years

Text

Dare (M)

A/N: first SF9 post! its a repost from a blog i was on for a bit but she “closed” it shortly after i joined. fun little request especially since Chani’s my ult ☺️

Request: can i possibly request either friends to lovers or enemies to lovers where nothing happens until sf8 literally have to lock you in a room with chani and suddenly everything happens ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

SCENARIO: Your best friend, Chani, invites you to a game night with his fellow members for their day off. Given their chaotic nature, you shouldn’t have expected things to go smoothly, but sometimes bad situations can lead to positive outcomes.

Pairing: Chani x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut - SEXUAL CONTENT

Word Count: 4.3k

Chani [5:31 PM]: Hey, just finished practice, meet at 6?

You [5:33 PM]: Yeah, I’ll see you then!

Your heart raced as you locked your phone, placing it on the kitchen counter before rushing upstairs to change.

Chani and you first became friends in your first year of highschool and have since, become best friends… but somewhere along the way, you ended up developing feelings for him and you had yet to build up the courage to confess… that is, if you ever did. You didn’t really have any intentions on making the first move, but rather, you chose to wait it out and hope that one day, as your friendship continued to grow, so would his feelings for you. Quickly, you picked out a cute outfit and then walked over to the cafe where the two of you were supposed to meet.

“Hey,” he greeted, arriving only a few minutes after you.

“Hey.”

“Um, before I forget… I wanted to ask if you’re busy on Saturday?”

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m free. Why?”

“Manager gave us the day off so we’re having like a game night. There’ll be food and stuff so I thought maybe you’d wanna come?”

“Oh, yeah, I’d love to! I haven’t seen everyone in a while.”

“Awesome, I’ll let Youngbin know so he can pick you up.”

“Thanks.”

The two of you ended up hanging out for another hour or so before deciding to part ways. Chani had walked you back since it was already dark out, giving you a hug before making his way back to the cafe where Youngbin picked him up.

* * *

Finally, Saturday came. From the moment you woke up, you were scrambling to get ready and trying to make yourself look as good as possible. When Chani said “game night,” you weren’t too sure what he’d meant as far as how casual or how crazy it’d possibly get, so you tried your best to find a happy medium.

After you showering, you blow dried and curled your hair, and as for clothes, you chose some high-waisted ripped shorts to show off your legs, with a cute crop top to make for a slightly revealing, but overall casual outfit. To top it off, you put on some natural makeup, just enough to make you look clean and to accentuate your good features.

Youngbin [5:22 PM]: I’m outside

You [5:23 PM]: Coming

The ride to the dorms took no more than 10 minutes, the two of you talking casually and catching up until you finally arrived. After Youngbin parked the car, the two of you quickly made your way up to the dorms, and upon entry, you were swarmed with greetings and hugs from the 7 boys. Chani stayed back for a little bit and waited for the other guys to disperse before finally going up to you and shyly greeting you with a hug.

“Awww,” the boys cooed, making Chani quickly pull away from you and glare at them bitterly, returning you an awkward smile before taking a seat on the floor.

“Go get some snacks,” Youngbin offered, gesturing towards the kitchen, “We have lots.”

“Thanks,” you smiled nervously before making your way into the kitchen to see what kind of snacks the boys had prepared.

“Hey,” Jaeyoon spoke up as he followed you into the kitchen.

“Yeah, hi,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as he made his way towards you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Thanks for keeping our secret…”

“What do you mean?”

“Um, when ‘you know who’ hugged me and everyone was ‘aw’-ing about it? Would you like to explain that?”

“Oh, that secret… I only told Inseong, I swear!”

“And then?”

“Well… I guess he told Dawon and then Dawon told—”

“Exactly… and now everyone knows…”

“Chani doesn’t know.”

“How wouldn’t he?”

“I dunno, but he’s pretty clueless…”

“Ugh… I swear to god Jaeyoon, I’m never trusting you with a secret ever again.”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

“Yeah whatever…”

Grabbing your food, you quickly made your way back out to the living room and sat on the couch next to Taeyang in an attempt to avoid the comments you’d get from the boys had you sat next to Chani.

“Hi,” Taeyang smiled as you plopped down next to him.

“Hey,” you replied as you started eating your snacks.

“You didn’t wanna sit by Chani?”

You almost choked when you heard what he’d said, assuming he was hinting at your crush yet again.

“No… why would I want to sit by him?” you remarked coldly, trying to hide your feelings.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “I just figured you guys are best friends so…”

“O-oh… right, yeah… but I see him every week. I’m here to hang out with you guys now.”

He only nodded in response, finding your reasoning plausible despite the fact you were stumbling over your words. It seemed that the rumor hadn’t quite gotten to Taeyang either, so you were really hoping Jaeyoon was right about Chani not knowing… maybe it was just amongst the hyung line.

Finally, after everyone was gathered back in the living room, Youngbin announced that they would be starting the first game, ‘Never Have I Ever.’

“I wanna start!” Dawon yelled excitedly, raising his hand, “Never have I ever sucked a dick!”

“Really?” Youngbin looked at him in disbelief.

“What? It’s true.”

Sighing to yourself, you put down a finger, trying your best to avoid eye contact with the boys… but at the same time, you already knew all eyes were on you, being that you were the only girl in the room and now, you were about to get bombarded with questions.

“Y/n put her finger down!” Dawon announced, pointing you out to everyone, “So who was it?”

“Was it someone in this room?” Inseong chimed in.

“I bet it was Jaeyoon,” Rowoon interjected.

“Me?!” Jaeyoon exclaimed, “You’re more of a flirt than me!”

“No guys, it was with Chani,” Zuho remarked, “Him and y/n are always together.”

“We only go to the coffee shop!” Chani replied defensively.

“Guys stop!” you snapped, “It was my ex, okay? And it was just once, Jesus Christ… will you guys ever give me a break?”

“Yeah guys give her a break, she’s our guest,” Youngbin scolded, “Now moving on to Hwiyoung.”

“Never have I ever drank until I was drunk,” Hwiyoung said confidently, knowing his hyungs had been drunk numerous times before.

“Aw man,” Dawon complained, putting a finger down, along with all the other boys except the maknae line.

“Ok…” Inseong started, “Never have I ever had a crush on anyone since we debuted.”

“What about that one girl?! The one you met at the club?” Jaeyoon, interrupted.

“I never liked her. We were just talking for a little bit.”

“Pft,” Jaeyoon rolled his eyes as he put down a finger.

Looking around the room, you noticed a few of the boys also put a finger down, Rowoon, Taeyang, Hwiyoung, and surprisingly… Chani. It made you jealous to think about him possibly liking someone else, but what took you aback was the fact that he never told you. Having been best friends for a while, you really thought he would’ve at least briefly mentioned it.

Once you snapped out of it, you noticed Jaeyoon staring at you intensely with his eyebrows raised, gesturing towards Chani while angrily mouthing, Put your finger down!

Really?! You mouthed back, discreetly putting a finger down in hopes that no one would say anything… but of course, nothing goes unseen with these boys.

“Y/n put her finger down!” Dawon yelled, ratting you out again.

“Seriously?!” you groaned, “Why do you keep picking on me? There should be rules, only one remark per person.”

“Fine...” he replied, “Chani put his finger down!”

“What the?!” Chani remarked, his eyes wide as all the boys turned their heads toward him.

You had to admit, you felt a little bit bad, having been in his position just a few minutes ago, but at the same time, you were curious to know about this little crush of his.

“Do you still like her?” Rowoon asked.

“Um… I guess?” Chani replied nervously.

“I guess?! What kind of answer is that,” Dawon scolded, “It’s a yes or no question.”

“Okay, yes! Geez…” he sighed frustratedly.

“Is she in this room?!” Jaeyoon asked boldly, all the eyes in the room turning to you momentarily before returning to Chani.

His ears and cheeks began to turn red as the boys stared him down, his eyes quickly darting to the floor as he answered, “N-no…”

“I don’t know…” Inseong started, raising his eyebrows at the younger boy, “You’re pretty red right now.”

“Ugh,” Chani groaned, covering his face with his hands.

“Do you like y/n?” Taeyang interrupted, only embarrassing him more.

Chani paused for a moment before he finally willed himself to speak, “I don’t have to answer that, this isn’t ‘Truth or Dare’…” Letting out a sigh, he stood up from his place on the ground and made his way to the kitchen, “I’m gonna get food.”

“That’s a great idea!” Dawon shouted, “We should play ‘Truth or dare!’”

“We didn’t even finish this game,” Hwiyoung argued.

“We were never gonna finish anyways,” Jaeyoon shrugged.

“Alright then, let’s take five and then meet back here,” Youngbin announced, “There’s still tons of food that we have to finish.”

* * *

The five minutes went by way too fast; you were definitely NOT mentally prepared to play truth or dare with the boys. As much as you loved them, they were hella wild and you just knew you were going to get torn apart by the truth questions until you had absolutely no secrets left… it was quite terrifying.

On the other hand, you couldn’t stop thinking about the whole situation with Chani’s little crush. He didn’t say it out right, but it really did seem like you were the one he was crushing on… you wanted to know more, but given the situation, you knew it wasn’t the best time to ask.

“Alright,” Youngbin spoke up, “I wrote down everyone’s names and put them in this bowl, so when it’s your turn, you draw a name and ask them truth or dare. I’ll start this time.”

Sticking his hand in the bowl, he pulled out a piece of paper and opened it, “Zuho, truth or dare?”

“Hm… truth,” he replied.

“Okay, we’ll start easy. Has manager-nim ever caught you doing something bad?”

“Um… one time when I was a trainee, I really wanted ice cream, but I was on a diet so I asked manager-nim for money to buy ‘medication’ and then bought myself some ice cream... but then he found the receipt and banned me from going to the convenience store for a month.”

“I remember that,” Rowoon laughed, “He was so mad that he almost banned all of us from going to the convenience store!”

“Alright, your turn,” Youngbin said handing the bowl to Zuho.

“Jaeyoon, truth or dare.”

“Dare!”

“I dare you to call your most recent contact and tell them ‘I love you.’”

Shrugging, Jaeyoon pulled out his phone and called the first person in his contacts, putting it on speaker for everyone to hear. To everyone’s surprise, a phone in the room began ringing; it turned out to be Inseong.

“Hello?” he answered in a giggly voice.

“Inseong oppa! Saranghae!” Jaeyoon said in a high pitched voice, making kissy noises into the phone before hanging up, resulting in a roar of laughter from the boys.

Once everyone calmed down, Zuho handed the bowl to Jaeyoon.

“Y/n! Truth or dare,” Jaeyoon smiled.

Oh god… you grumbled to yourself, knowing that if you were paired with Jaeyoon, it was going to be a lose, lose situation no matter what. After thinking for a moment, you decided you’d be safer avoiding the questions after what happened with ‘Never Have I Ever.’

“Dare,” you finally answered, holding your breath as you awaited Jaeyoon’s response.

“I dare you to… sit on Chani’s lap.”

Your jaw instantly dropped as you processed what he’d said, your eyes narrowing at him as you remained glued to your seat.

“Go on now, you chose dare,” he stated smuggly, gesturing towards Chani.

“Dammit,” you muttered as you stood up and made your way towards Chani. The two of you made awkward eye contact before you slowly lowered yourself onto his lap, the sound of cheers and laughter from the boys filling the room soon after. Despite having fantasized about sitting on his lap loads of times before, the setting was definitely NOT how you’d imagined it.

It took a minute or so for the boys to finally calm down, Jaeyoon resuming the game by handing you the bowl.

“Hwiyoung… truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Uh… I dare you to… kiss the members on both sides of you.”

Once you’d assigned the dare, you stopped paying attention to the game, your focus reverting to the fact that you were sitting on Chani’s lap. Given the context, it was definitely awkward, but you were thankful it was Chani over any of the other boys… you could’ve easily ended up sitting on Jaeyoon’s lap or something and that would’ve been ten times more awkward.

As you continued to doze off, the thought of Chani liking you suddenly resurfaced. Did he really like you? And if he did, since when? All this time you’d had a huge crush on him without even the slightest idea that he might like you back… maybe you were just in denial?

It made you wonder how he felt about the current situation, considering, you were sitting on his lap. If he really did like you, he was probably feeling way more flustered than you were... and maybe even a little aroused? You could feel your face starting to heat up at the thought of getting him excited, convincing yourself it was a bit of a stretch to be thinking about that now; it wasn’t even really confirmed if not he had feelings for you or not.

“Chani!” Dawon yelled excitedly, pulling you out of your trance and drawing your attention back to the game, “Truth or dare?”

“Oh no,” Chani groaned under his breath; he was practically in the same boat that you were with Jaeyoon earlier, a lose, lose situation. “I’m gonna regret this…” he muttered before speaking up, “Dare.”

“Yes!!” Dawon cheered, “I dare you to go in your room with y/n for the rest of the game.”

“Nice!” Jaeyoon laughed, giving him a high-five.

“Seriously?” Chani sighed, looking at Dawon in disbelief.

“Mhm,” he grinned, “Now move along, love birds.”

“Ugh, fine,” Chani grumbled, urging you to stand up before standing up himself, “C’mon y/n, let’s go.”

“Have fun!” Dawon yelled, waving as the two of you walked away.

“But not too much fun!” Jaeyoon added.

“You guys are terrible,” Youngbin remarked, shaking his head.

“They needed a push!”

* * *

Finally the two of you were able to get some peace and quiet, but unfortunately, you had to be locked up together in a room for it. Despite being best friends for so long, you never felt more uncomfortable being alone with someone in your life than you did at that very moment. For the first few minutes, the two of you awkwardly sat together on his bed, neither of you saying a word.

“Um…” he started quietly, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke, “Sorry about that whole situation… I know they can be a little crazy, but they really mean well…”

“I know, it’s okay…

…

So um… I-I was wondering…”

“Yeah?”

“They asked earlier about you liking someone… is it really… me?”

“Oh… that… uh…well…”

The room fell silent as Chani’s eyes darted to the floor, a tinge of pink reappearing on his fair cheeks.

“If it helps… I… like you too,” you reassured.

“W-wait, what? Really?!”

“Y-yeah…”

“Wow… I had no idea.”

“I didn’t know you liked me either.”

“The thing is, I’ve had feelings for you for a while now, but I could never figure out how to tell you… or how to gain the courage to… now I regret waiting though, I would’ve rather told you myself than be exposed by the boys…”

“It’s okay, I wanted to tell you too, but I couldn’t find the courage either… it’s hard.”

The room fell silent again, neither of you having the slightest clue of what to talk about; with all the thoughts and fantasies rushing through your head, it was hard to find words to say. Slowly but surely, your mind got a hold of you, slyly persuading you to make a move and act on your thoughts, but a part of you was still afraid. You gulped at the idea of imposing on him, worried that you’d end up pushing him away if he didn’t like it.

The worst case scenario is he’ll just say no, right? You finally convinced yourself, taking a deep breath before finally speaking up.

“Um, Chani?” you started, unable to make eye contact as you spoke, “It might be crazy to ask but… could I maybe… sit on your lap again?”

His eyes widened at your request, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. You winced watching him sit there, completely motionless, the feeling that maybe it was too big of a request and that is was too soon making your insides churn. You were about to crawl off his bed and go sit on another member’s bed when he stopped you, the look in his eyes pleading you to stay.

“Please do… sorry, I just… I’m really nervous…” holding your hand, he gently pulled you towards him, guiding you over his hips so that you were straddling him. He bit his lip as you lowered yourself onto him, his arms wrapping around your waist as yours snuck around the back of his neck.

You pulled him closer as you deepened the kiss, your hands quickly finding their way into his dark tresses and gently fisting at them.

You were filled with a sense of satisfaction when you finally elicited a moan from him, the sound of his deep, sultry voice making your stomach tingle, but even more so, the foreign feeling of his growing erection pressing up against your already dripping core firing a lust within you more intense than you ever experienced before.

Before you knew it, you had him pinned beneath you, your lips still attached as you passionately rolled your hips against his, his sweet moans vibrating against your lips. To your surprise, he slipped his tongue past your lips and swirled it around in your wet cavern, the feeling of his hand sliding up to the back of your neck sending chills down your spine.

“Chani,” you mumbled, barely separating your lips from his as you spoke.

“Hm?” he hummed back, stroking his fingers through your hair.

“Can we…?”

“Can we what?”

“Y’know… can we do ‘it’?”

“Oh… um… I dunno… I don’t think it’s a good idea…”

“But, Chani… please?” you pouted, teasingly running your hand down his body and landing on his crotch, “You’re so hard, and I’m so…”

“I know… I want to, it’s just… I dunno, I’m worried… A-are you on the pill?”

“No… but… there’s a condom here… on your nightstand…”

“What…?”

“And a note… ‘Thought you might need this ;) -Dawon.’”

“Well…”

“Please?” you begged as you started unbuttoning his pants.

“Y/n…” he grumbled in response as you continued to unclothed him, desperately pulling his stiff member out of the confinement of his briefs. “Fuck,” he muttered as you began to stroke him, the unbelievable amount of pleasure you gave making him unable to resist indulgence. You weren’t normally this bold, but you were so overcome with lust that you just couldn’t contain yourself; you wanted him to want you as much as you wanted him.

You pumped him a bit longer before impulsively taking him into your mouth, your lips closing tightly around his shaft as your tongue grazed the underside.

“Oh my god,” he gasped, his eyes widening as he processed what was happening.

You felt satisfied seeing his face start to scrunch up, his lower lip disappearing between his teeth as he struggled to restrain his moans. You were determined to get it out of him though, to make him want you so bad that he’ll practically be begging for it. Bobbing your head up and down, you continued to pump whatever part of him you couldn’t take, the little moans and curses that started to slip past his lips feeding your desire to make him feel good.

You didn’t hesitate to pick up speed, your controlling libido refusing to let you stop; seeing the way his body tensed, the way his breaths hitched in his throat, the way his legs shook… you knew he was extremely close.

“Shit!” Chani moaned as he suddenly yanked your head away from him, his breath heavy as his desperate, angry cock throbbed, “I was about to…”

“I wanted you to…”

“Sorry… I-I didn’t want to… not in your mouth… and sorry for pulling your hair…”

“It’s okay…”

“Did you still want to… y’know?”

“If you’re okay with it…”

“I am… but I’m nervous... and I don’t think I’ll last long.”

“It’s okay, I’m a little nervous too.”

After giving him a peck on the lips, you reached for the condom on the nightstand and tore it open, carefully pinching it as you rolled it down his shaft. Next, you discarded your shorts and flung them onto the floor, leaving you in just your thin lace underwear. When you noticed Chani’s intense stare, you couldn’t help but look away, your face burning with embarrassment as you fathomed the situation.

“You’re gorgeous… you don’t need to be shy…” he praised as he gently caressed your bare thighs.

His comment gave you some sense of confidence, willing you to finally crawl over him and position his member so your heat.

“A-are you ready?” you stuttered, the nerves you weren’t feeling earlier finally catching up with you.

“Yeah… are you?”

You hesitated for a moment, struggling to give him an answer as you swallowed thickly.

“We don’t have to do this you know…” he assured, lovingly cupping your face in his hand.

“N-no, I want to,” you finally replied, convincing yourself it was fine. Reaching between your legs, you pulled the thin lace aside and held his swollen tip to your entrance as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. You winced at the foreign feeling of him inside of you, the strange combination of pain and pleasure giving you a mixture of emotions.

“Are you okay?” Chani asked, noticing your change of expression.

“Yeah,” you whimpered as you began to slowly roll your hips.

“You feel so good,” he praised as you rode him, his hand going up to cup your face again.

“So do you,” you groaned as you continued to grind against him. As the pain subsided, you began to speed up, your slow, steady movements eventually becoming desperate and erratic. In no time, you found yourself bouncing on top him, the way his length drove deep into your core driving you completely insane; you could feel that your end was near, the high that you so badly longed for just barely out of reach.

Glancing down at Chani, you could tell that he was close too, his eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched as he hung on by a single thread. Suddenly, he grabbed you firmly by the hips and began bucking his hips up into you, his thrusts hitting you even deeper than you thought possible.

In a matter of seconds he gave you that final push over the edge, your climax approaching quicker than you could adhere to.

“Chani I’m— !” you barely started when euphoria finally erupted inside of you, your weakening body collapsing on top of his as you rode out your high.

“Me too,” he groaned only seconds after you, your clenching walls milking him to his end.

The room felt hot as the two of you regained your breath, the sound of heavy panting echoing throughout the small room; you’d barely gotten a chance to relax when you heard a knock on the door, making you jump off of Chani and hide under the sheets.

“The game is over,” Youngbin said as he popped his head into the room, his neutral expression quickly becoming awkward at the realization that he’d ‘interrupted.’ “Um… you can uh… come down whenever you’re ready,” he mumbled before quickly closing the door.

“So did they do it?” you could make out Dawon’s voice from behind the door.

“I don’t know… maybe… it’s none of your business,” Youngbin replied.

“Hah! I knew they would, they’re soo into each other.”

“Oh god,” Chani groaned, facepalming at his groupmates’ remarks, “I’m never gonna hear the end of this.”

“I think… they were just trying to set us up…”

“I know, but you saw how they were playing ‘truth or dare’ and ‘never have I ever’... I’m telling you, they’re never gonna let me live this down.”

“At least you have an excuse now, right? We’re a couple now… couple’s always do this kind of stuff.”

“I guess so…

Wow… this is amazing, I can’t believe I can finally call you mine. You don’t even know how long I’ve been trying to ask you out...”

“Me too… you know, even though the boys always tease you and poke fun at you, we wouldn’t have gotten together if it weren’t for them.”

“Yeah, you’re right… I love you.”

“I love you too, Chani.”

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annteasocial · 4 years

Note

Hihi! I really loved your arashi nee-chan x reader! It was so cute! May I request a Mika one where the reader is pretty skilled at embroidery but she’s embarrassed (I’ve noticed people often think it’s like,,, for grannies ;-;)so she hides it? And he finds out somehow??Maybe she’s Valkyrie’s producer or something? Thank you in advance if you do decide to write it, and don’t forget to rest enough and drink lots of water!

Omg I should have gotten this done a lot sooner but I was so busy and Word crashed on me :’). This is quite long, about 1.6k words X’D. AND I AM JUST GOING TO SAY THIS NOW BUT THIS WAS SO WHOLESOME TO WRITE LIKE I WAS PHAT UWU-ING THIS ENTIRE TIME. I love Mika ugh he’s adorable :’))))))

Mika X Fem!Embroiderer Reader:

You sat in the handicrafts club, sorting out the staging setup for Valkyrie’s next DreFes performance, which was approximately two weeks away from now. “Hmm…hopefully the costumes are finished soon so there’s one less thing for me to worry about. Oh, and some of the lighting still needs to be rigged in preparation…I should let the operators know about that,” you mumbled to yourself, scribbling down your schedule in a cute notebook Mika gave you for your birthday last year.

The notebook was a light baby blue in colour, decorate d with black and silver lace. There were bits of paper sticking out from the pages and all sorts of little stickers covering the front cover. “Alright…just need to work out when the stylist is available so I can contact her…aaaand done!” You closed the notebook with satisfaction and leaned back in your chair.

It was about 3:15 in the afternoon, so you had about 15 minutes left of your spare period. “No one’s around…so maybe I’ll work on my embroidery,” you hummed, pulling out a medium sized embroidery hoop from your bag that had the beginnings of a beautiful cherry blossom pattern on it. You also grabbed a needle and some coloured threads from your kit, fearing that if you took anything from the handicrafts club, Shu would find out and have your head.

Sighing, you began to work on completing the branches of the cherry blossom tree, threading the brown string into the desired pattern.

~~~

“(Y/N)-chan~! Are ya in here?”

Startled, you shoved your embroidery hoop into your lap and quickly scooted your chair forward to hide it from view. “Oh, Mika. You gave me a bit of a fright there,” you said, watching as the 2nd year’s expression turned into a slightly panicked one. “Bwah! Sorry ‘bout that, I guess I didn’ realise ya’d actually be in ‘ere.” Mika scratched his head awkwardly but continued to talk. “Were you workin’ on s’mthin’ jus’ now? Hope I didn’ interrupt you or anythin’…”

You swallowed nervously, “uhh, I was just sorting out my schedule of things to do before Valkyrie’s DreamFes performance,” you replied. “Wow, s’mtimes I think Oshi-san and I don’ deserve ya. Yer really hardworkin’ yanno?” You blushed slightly at his compliment and fiddled with the fabric hidden in your lap.

“Ah! I should get goin’ now, I have practice with Oshi-san. Sorry if I disturbed ya before. See ya tomorrow, (Y/N)-chan!” Mika waved to you and you returned the gesture. Once he was out of the room, you sighed in relief, pushing your chair back out again. Thankfully, he hadn’t noticed the embroidery you were doing.

A buzz sounded from your blazer pocket, and you pulled out your phone to see your mum calling you. “(Y/N), honey? Are you almost home?” Her voice chirped from the other end of the receiver. “I’m still at school, I was just talking with one of my friends.”

“Do you think you could go to the shops and pick me up some eggs and milk? Your dad and little brother have raided the fridge again.”

“Sure, how many of each?”

“Two dozen eggs and 2 cartons of milk will be plenty. Thanks sweetie!”

The call ended and you began to pack your things away before heading over to the shoe lockers. The shopping district was only a 10-minute walk away from the school, so you were able to make good time.

It was late afternoon but the district still had students and locals bustling around the area, bringing a lively buzz to the atmosphere. You went and grabbed the things that your mum had requested you to buy and decided you’d browse the rest of the stores before heading back home.

A small, quaint shop caught your eye and you walked over to the window to see a gorgeous array of embroidery designs, coloured threads, and fabrics displayed behind the glass. ‘I don’t recall this being here the last time I visited the shopping district…maybe it’s a new shop,” you pondered to yourself.

“Eh? Is that (Y/N)-san over there by that shop?”

“Mm…I’m tired…carry me Maa-kun~”

As you were standing around, lost in your thoughts, Mao and Ritsu happened to spot you on your little window shopping spree, and the two of them walked, well more like the maroon haired boy half dragged his lethargic companion, over.

At the sound of footsteps, you turned your head up out of your daze. “Oh, Mao-kun, Ritsu-kun, um, what brings you here?” You asked, instinctively moving away from the shop window, worried they might ask you what you were looking at. Mao gave you a tired grin, “I was taking Sleeping Beauty here back home but he kept pestering me that he wanted a soda, and the closest drinks vending machine was in the shopping district, so here we are.”

You nodded as Mao heaved Ritsu’s arm around his shoulder, effectively trying to keep the ravenette standing up. “What about…you (Y/N)-chan? What were you…doing here…?” Ritsu slumped more of his body weight onto his poor childhood friend who really couldn’t do much except put up with it.

“I was just picking up some stuff for my mum. We ran out of eggs and milk and she probably wanted to make an omelette tonight,” you replied. “That’s nice of you to do that, I usually help my parents out as well when they need to.” Mao smiled as he held his friend up, the latter looking like he was on the verge of falling asleep whilst standing.

Mao seemed to notice that Ritsu was practically asleep and straightened him again. “Well, I better get going now before Ritchan passes out, later (Y/N)-san!” The Trickstar member proceeded to somehow get the sleepy member of Knights flopped onto his back and carried him off.

"Whew...dodged another bullet...” You were thankful that they didn’t ask you about what you were looking at, otherwise you’d probably freeze up and die on the spot.

Ever since middle school, you had an interest in embroidery, but your classmates often picked on you and called you all sorts of mean nicknames like “granny” or “old lady”. It could have been worse, but you hated that embroidery was stereotyped as a hobby for the elderly.

You sighed for the umpteenth time that day and began your trek back home.

~~~

The next day you sat in the Handicrafts club room again during lunch time, desiring some peace and quiet whilst you worked on your needlework in secret. You were almost done with the final touches, with only a couple of the petals on the last cherry blossom requiring stitching. You were so engrossed in finishing that you didn’t hear someone enter the room behind you since you had your back turned towards the door.

Mika had been searching for you during lunchtime to ask you about his costume which had just been completed today, and you so happened to be sitting in the clubroom like yesterday after school. You hadn’t noticed his presence which gave him the opportunity to walk up behind you to see what you were doing. When he was close enough to peer over your shoulder, his eyes widened at the beautiful, delicately crafted handkerchief, decorated with cherry blossoms and pink petals.

“Wow (Y/N)-chan~! I didn’ realise ya had that kinda talent for embroidery! Looks really nice!”

You immediately flinched and screamed in shock due to being so absorbed in your little workspace. “Waaaaah!! Mika!? What are you doing here!?” You screeched making the black haired boy jump from your outburst. “E-eh!? Ah–‘m sorry! Didn’ think I’d scare ya like that…” He looked down guiltily and you felt bad for shouting at him.

“Wait, no no I’m sorry I shouldn’t have raised my voice like that,” you mumbled, playing with the ends of your hair before realising that you still had your embroidery in your hands for all the world to see. You gasped and quickly tried to hide it but Mika caught your wrist.

“Why’re ya tryin’ to hide yer work? ‘s really pretty to look at yanno?” He grinned at you but you averted your gaze away. “I…uhh…s-so you saw it d-didn’t you…” you stammered, still trying to get the hoop out of vision.

“Was I not s’posed to?”

“N-no…it’s just…”

You took a deep breath in and exhaled it all out again. “Back when I was in middle school, people often teased me about being into embroidery. They would call me things like “granny” or “old lady” and make fun of me for my hobby…” you admitted. Mika listened intently but said nothing. “I guess from all those bad experiences, I’ve always kept this a secret because I was scared of being judged again…”

You felt tears start to prickle in the corner of your eyes. No one in Yumenosaki knew about your passion and you intended to keep it that way.

“(Y/N)-chan.”

“…”

“(Y/N)-chan, look at me would ya?”

You felt Mika’s hands cup both your cheeks and tilt your face upwards to meet his heterochromatic gaze. He used his thumbs to gently brush away at the tears that were threatening to fall from your eyes.

“I don’ think yer hobby’s bad at all. ‘n fact, I really respect ya after seein’ yer needlework. ‘m still practicin’ jus’ stitchin’ holes up in clothes but yer out ‘ere makin’ really pretty cloths ‘n stuff.” He gave you a heart-warming smile and let go of your cheeks to grab your hands.

You were shocked to silence. You hadn’t expected anyone to be this understanding.

“Mika…I… ”

You felt an tug on the corner of your lips, only to realise you were smiling. You squeezed his hands in return, feeling a faint blush start to spread across your face.

“Thanks Mika…really, that means a lot to me,” you giggled and the latter scratched his cheek bashfully.

“Ehehe~ ‘s nothin’~”

You smiled again and quickly leaned forward to place a peck on his cheek before standing up to leave. “We should head back soon, class is starting in about 3 minutes,” you grinned, escaping the room and leaving the poor boy in a stunned, flustered mess.

Mika slowly brought it hand up to his cheek, feeling where your lips had been.

“H-huh?! W-wait, (Y/N)-chan!!”

#ensemble stars #enstars #x reader #scenario #fluff #mika kagehira #kagehira mika #mod ann

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houkagokappa · 4 years

Text

YURIZANMAI

Here’s my translation of Yurizanmai by Morishima Akiko for the Sarazanmai Anthology!

I finished it the same week the Anthology came out, but then I completely forgot about posting it since I’ve been trying to spend less time online. Sorry about that!

I hope you like it, it manages to add the one thing to Sarazanmai that it was still lacking in order to become absolute perfection - lesbians!!!

Pg 1

Text: The night we defeated the first Kappa Zombie Text: we got a Dish of Hope. Plate: Hope Text: And then… Keppi: This Dish of Hope will grant you any wish, ribbit.

Tooi: Don’t tell stupid lies. Enta: Any wish? Enta: No waaay~ Keppi: It’s true, ribbit.

Enta: For real!? Well then, SFX: Haha Enta: eeeveryone in the whooole world becomes a girl ☆ Enta: Just kidd…

SFX: fwoosh Plate: Eeeeveryone girl

SFX: scatter Enta: …ing.

Title: Morishima Akiko – Yurizanmai

Pg2

Tooi: !? Kazuki/SFX: What?! Kazuki: Natural hair! Enta: Wha.. Keppi: It has been granted, ribbit ♥ Text: We ended up becoming women. Title: Yurizanmai

Pg3

Bubble: WHAT THE HELL!!!

Text: We can’t understand all life’s occurrences. Sara: G’morning ☆

Sara: Today’s lucky selfie item is… Sara: Yuri, dish ☆ TL note: Yuri as in lily the flower (but also lesbians) Plate: Yuri Large banner text: Lucky Selfie Item Small banner text: No way, I’m surprised YURIZANMAI got the OK. Thank you.

Text: This isn’t a reward, falling in love with my teammate, turning into kappa…

Text: Turning into girls… Enta: Girls’ breasts are in the way! Enta: The bra is tight and my shoulders are stiff. SFX: sigh

Pg4

Tooi: THIS IS YOUR FAULT!! Tooi: Fuck, I can feel a breeze on my crotch!! Enta: Buuut~ Enta: It was only a joke~ Kazuki: It’ll be a relief not having to wear a wig, Kazuki: but a pain to need so much shampoo.

SFX: Ah Enta: That’s right, here… Tooi: ? Enta: I have a share of my sisters SFX: *rustle rustle*

Text: Menstrual pads.

Enta: Wouldn’t it be troublesome if we’d get it suddenly? Enta: Hey Kazuki, you too… huh? Kazuki: Yuri flowers… Kazuki: Eh, they don’t have them?

Kazuki: Has this flower shop sold out all the yuri flowers too? Kazuki: Yeah… Kazuki: What should I do about today’s mission…?

Pg5

Enta: I’ll help you search for them. Kazuki: Eh? But I’d feel bad. Enta: Don’t. We’re the Golden Combo, right? Enta: As men or as women!

Enta: Something like gender doesn’t matter… Kazuki: It matters a lot!

Kazuki: I mean… Enta as a girl… Kazuki: Is so insanely cute Kazuki: my heart is pounding.

Enta: What? SFX: ba-dump SFX: *lean*

Kazuki: If me and Enta would kiss Enta: Umm Kazuki: now that we’re both girls Kazuki: that’d be “yuri”, wouldn’t it? Enta: !!

Pg6

Enta: Th-th-th… That’s right! We-we-we… We have no other choice for the sake of the mission! Kazuki: Not for the sake of the mission. Kazuki: I just want to kiss you Enta.

Enta: Re.. Really? Kazuki: Really. Kazuki: Enta I…

Kazuki: love you ♥ Text: Yuri... Kiss… ♥♥♥

Tooi: Doesn’t our schools flower bed have some? Kazuki: Is that so? I’m off!! SFX: *dash*

Enta: I knew it was a delusion… SFX: *slump*

Pg7

SFX: *pow*

Tooi: …Hey. Tooi: Don’t kick the ball in a skirt. Enta: I’m wearing leggings like my sister told me to ♪

Tooi: …Hey. Tooi: What’s Yasaka doing all those things for? Tooi: Who’s Harukappa?

Enta: I think it’s probably Haruka. Enta: Kazuki’s precious little brother. Enta: Oh right, now it’s her little sister.

Kazuki: The school didn’t have anything but cucumbers, dish~☆ Tooi: His precious… little brother.

Pg8

Kazuki: I have no choice but to try my luck at some flower shop in Asakusa… SFX: sigh

Tooi: I’ll help! Enta: What?

Enta: Kuji’s a good guy!? Enta: Eeeeh Enta: That’s surprising Tooi: I’m free today, that’s all…

Enta: What’s this? Just when I thought we’d be alone with Kazuki… Don’t get in the way.

SFX: gasp Enta: It can’t be…

Enta: Did Kuji fall in love with Kazuki once he turned into a girl!? Kazuki: Thank you! Kazuki: I’ll give you this cucumber

SFX: Grrrrrrrrrr Enta: ………….

Pg9

Text: Eeeeveryone in the whooole world becomes a girl ☆ Text: Of course that wasn’t a serious wish. Text: It was just a joke Text: However…

Text: [Kaisou] Text: O Flashback X Seaweed

Enta: Wow cuuute~ Enta: Are these your photos from when you went to middle school? Text: National Tennis Championship Enta: So you were in the tennis club? Kazuki’s mom: Yes. Kazuki’s mom: We made it pretty far in the doubles together with my senpai.

Pg10

Haruka: You were the Golden Combo! Haruka: Like Kazu-chan and Enta-oniichan. Enta: Are you still playing tennis together with your senpai?

Kazuki’s mom: No Kazuki’s mom: I haven’t seen my senpai in over 10 years.

Kazuki’s mom: But you know Kazuki’s mom: Me and my senpai are still connected.

Kazuki’s mom: A real connection will continue to shine forever without vanishing, even if you are separated. SFX: flip Text: Wedding/in the waiting room before the ceremony

Kazuki’s mom: And then that light will shine on the next new connection…

Pg11

Kazuki’s mom: Even when we aren’t near. Kazuki’s mom: Even when we don’t meet. Kazuki’s mom: Me and my senpai are connected through that light. Kazuki’s mom: We always will be.

Enta: ……. Enta: I was a little jealous.

Enta: If Kazuki and I were women Enta: I wouldn’t be at the mercy of something such as desires, like men are. Enta: Even though my feelings are pure, I wonder if we can connect.

Pg12

Reo: Tee-hee ♪ My make-up turned out beautifully! Reo: The perfect policewoman is complete~♥

Mabu: Let’s go investigate what caused this sudden change of gender.

Sara: The Prince is lovely even as a Princess, dish ♥ Keppi: It’s a pair-look, ribbit. Reo: I have like no idea how we got turned into women so suddenly~ Reo: The only thing I know for sure is that…

Reo: I’m beyond gorgeous as a woman ♥ Reo: Tee-hee-hee Mabu: Reo, even ever since you were a man you’ve been more beautiful than anyone else.

Pg13

Reo: Wha- What, it’s unusual for you to give compliments.

Mabu: I’m not giving compliments, I’m stating a fact. Mabu: I’m not concerned as far as appearances go, beautiful or ugly, it doesn’t matter.

Reo: So you don’t care whether I’m beautiful or ugly. Reo: Hmph

Mabu: That’s right Text: Beautiful or ugly Text: Man or woman Text: I’m in love with Reo

Text: I want to tell you that, and yet…

Text: In the end however, no matter if I’m a man or a woman, my desire for Kazuki didn’t vanish. Enta: I’m delusional. I’m jealous. Enta: I still want to lick the recorder. SFX: Aaaah

Pg14

Enta: Still, I wouldn’t change these feelings. Enta: Even as a girl I’m in love with Kazuki!

Enta: I’m sorry Kazuki, yuri flowers are sold out everywhere… Kazuki: Enta? Kazuki: Look, look!

Kazuki: Kuji found them for me, dish ♥ Kazuki: They were dropped behind a funeral home SFX: squeeze Tooi: Hey, don’t cling to me so much Tooi: It’s soft

Enta: Kujiiiiiiiii SFX: roar

Pg15

Bubble: Huh? SFX: whoosh

SFX: swish Bubble: Aaah

Kazuki: My yuri!! Sara: For our next news story, dish ☆

Sara: An incident has occurred all around Asakusa with yuri flowers taking flight. Sara: Gao, gao~☆ Banner: Yuri, flying! Don’t back down on love TL note: They’re using a word for flying that’s pronounced “shounin” just like “approved” from YKA was. Banner: This YURIZANMAI is fiction, dish. It has absolutely no relation to the official SARAZANMAI.

Tooi: This time the desire is yuri Tooi: A yuri-zombie, huh? Enta: Everyone… Enta: Let’s turn into kappa Kazuki: Yeah Bubble: There’s something I have to take back

Pg16

Text: Before Kuji falls in love with female Kazuki Text: I’ll use the Dish of Hope to turn Kazuki back to male! Text: And in order to do that… Bubble: Let’s go!

Text: Yurizanmai

Otter: Continues in the sequel Otter: Usso☆ (Lies)

END

#sarazanmai #sarazanmai anthology #minna de sarazanmai #yurizanmai #morishima akiko #sarazanmai nonsense #my translation #i'm so sorry i forgot about this #especially since i had it all done and all #i only needed to post it #and maybe reread it #i will never stop editing these things

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bloxdstained · 4 years

Text

&. vanessa morgan : female : she/her : father by demi lovato — It seems lyra jones has been lured to Volterra. the twenty-eight # -year-old human has been in the city for 10 years working at a record shop and dj-ing at the local clubs. doesn’t flicks of pink strands, the creak of an old record player and a easy going smile remind you of them? ⸢ penned by alias : sirius age : 29 tz : gmt+1 pronouns: she/her.

history ;

lyra was born to a famous singer and her hard working husband. for a while it was all bliss, save the publicity her mother got which followed lyra around too.

but then her mother died of an overdose while on tour, leaving her husband and daughter behind.

in response, lyra’s father began drinking quite heavily and while he wasn’t abusive save for a few drunken rages gone wrong, he also stopped working.

lyra was only nine years old at the time, but intelligent enough to know and understand that unless she did something to pay the bills, her life would possibly change for the worse.

so she began stealing what she could, selling stuff where she could. her career as a petty thief lasted until she turned sixteen and could legally get a job herself keep her household afloat.

she’s been arrested a bunch of times but never charged since she was a minor. a lot of the cops she encountered took pity on her and did not make a big deal out of it, other than trying to tell her that she had to make better choices.

because of her situation lyra grew up fairly quickly and have felt like she can pretty much only rely on herself. she’s independent and strong, used to shouldering a lot at once and being responsible.

she met her best friend Christopher in high school and they have been close and tight knit ever since. when his ex left, she actually left their baby and note with lyra, the sight giving Chris quite a shock when he came home.

since Lyra have helped Chris out with Amelia, always living in the apartment next door and pretty much half living with them to take care of the little girl when her father has to work nights.

it works out well because Lyra works at a record shop part time when she isn’t DJ-ing at local clubs. though she makes sure that her dj weekends are planned ahead so that she and Chris can figure out the logistics.

Lyra moved to volterra with Chris shortly after graduation and doesn’t have any other formal education. her dream is to become a music producer working for a record label but she doesn’t know if thats something she’ll ever achieve.

personality ;

Lyra is quick-witted, easygoing and laid back, quick to joke and play around. While she carries a lot of responsibilities without a second thought, she feels much lighter these days now that she’s mainly fending for herself.

she loves leather and have colored her strands pink for near a decade now, wanting her quirky personality to shine trough on the outside as well.

she’s big on second chances and proving your worth, but you don’t get her respect if you are someone who haven’t earned your own money or who are born into money.

she’s not awfully materialistic and used to not own too much or buy a lot. for example, she still wears boy clothes that she’s inherited from her father or gotten from male friends trough the years.

she’s a lesbian and feels at ease with both sexes, but has tended to have a lot of male friends as opposed to female friends.

fun facts ;

she loves to play, sing and dance and will frequently do so both behind closed doors and in public.

owns a bunch of different instruments and is self taught on all of them

loves candy and cakes more than anything and always have some lying around

is a huge coffee addict and can barely function in the morning without

#sanguis:intro #( about lyra. )#( i prayed for your peace even if you started this this whole war in me ; lyra )

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hawkbucks · 5 years

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Bucky and Steve’s entire friendship starts when Bucky spots Steve reading a Captain America comic on the playground, promptly sits down next to him, and goes: “You like Captain America? He’s cool, but I think Winter Soldier is better.” Steve, of course, is offended that this kid has the audacity to imply someone is better than his beloved Captain, so they argue about the finer points of the Captain and the Soldier, discussing their actions at such depth that you’d forget they’re just a couple of 3rd graders with scraped knees and wild hair. At the end, they agree to come to the conclusion that the Captain and the Soldier are equally as cool. Whenever they’re able–a.k.a when Bucky saves up enough of his allowance to afford a few issues for him and Steve (because, as much as Steve protests against Bucky buying him things, Bucky knows he wants that Falcon issue)–they head down to the comic store around the corner from their school run by a kindly man named Abraham. Abraham slips them snacks sometimes: bags of chips, candy bars, etc. If they prove they’re doing good at school, they also get free books. Tables and chairs are scattered around the store, usually reserved for the game nights that the store hosts, but Abraham allows them to do their schoolwork on those tables. They try to draw out their visits as long as they can, because they just love exploring the store, and Abraham is such a good guy, you know? One day, when Steve is over at Bucky’s house and they’re watching cartoons, Steve gets an idea. He turns to Bucky and proclaims that they should open up a store together. It’ll be the best store ever! Bucky sagely nods before he runs off to grab a notebook and pencils to plan it. Their store looks as follows: 3 stories at the minimum, and there’ll be a slide leading from each floor to the one below. They’ll have cool statues to put on display, a gigantic collection to sale, and a pyrotechnics display at the cash register at Bucky’s suggestion. And they’ll make a lot of money. It’ll be the best store ever.

Unfortunately, said best store ever ends up being pushed to the back burner once they realize that opening and managing a business isn’t as easy as it sounds, especially for a couple of kids. “We’ll just do it later, when we’re grown ups,” Steve says, and Bucky agrees. They grow older. Steve turns from the shortest kid on the playground to the guy that people have to crane their necks up to talk to (Bucky teases him and says that he’s become the real life Captain America. Steve retorts that that makes Bucky the Winter Soldier), and Bucky grows his hair out, looking more and more like a hipster everyday (which he vehemently denies. “Where’s your manbun?” “I will smack you.”). Interests come and go, but they still find themselves stepping into Abraham’s shop. Abraham’s older now, grayer, but he still slides them Snickers every once in a while. Bucky ends up enlisting in the army to help pay for his tuition while Steve goes to art school to get a degree in illustration. An incident with an IED later, and Bucky comes home with an honorable discharge and an empty left sleeve. Steve visits him as often as he can, usually filling in the gaps when Bucky’s own family isn’t over. Sometimes Natasha (a girl they befriended in middle school after she came dressed as Black Widow for Halloween) and Sam (a boy they got to know during freshman year of high school when he complimented Bucky on his prime taste in superheroes because of the Falcon button pinned to his backpack) drop in, with Natasha keeping him company by watching trashy reality TV with him and Sam listening to him vent and offering a shoulder if he ever needs one. Hell, Abraham sends him a card through Steve when he heard about what happened. (He ends up getting all of them gift baskets as thanks for being there. Sam tries to decline his at first, but the lure of raspberry tarts was too strong.) One day, Steve comes over with Indian takeout and turns on some good ol’ History Channel. “Speaking of history,” Steve says in between bites of naan, “do you remember that store we wanted to open when we were younger?” Hit with that blast from the past, Bucky nods. He doesn’t have the notebook that they used when they first came up with the idea, but he stills remembers the basics of what they put down. Like the pyrotechnics display that he wanted. Steve asks if he’s still open to the idea, and Bucky replies, around a mouthful of rogan josh, that he is. It’s… been a while since he’s gotten out of his apartment to do something other than shop for groceries, pop into the Chinese restaurant right next to the building, or visit the doctor for those couple of appointments about him possibly getting a prosthetic, courtesy of some company that’s looking to do test runs of their new line. A whole bunch of Googling and Binging and Yahoo Answers-ing and they think they might have a slight idea of how to start a business. Slight is the operative word here. Like with many things, they end up going to Abraham for help. Abraham is a godsend, answering all of their questions and offering to point his customer base their way once he closes up shop for good (Steve may or may not have gotten a bit misty-eyed hearing about Abraham’s inevitable retirement). Fast forward, and their shop is open. Steve drew up the logo (gotta put that degree to use somehow), while Bucky was the one who came up with the interior design (and no pyrotechnics displays). Natasha and Sam are hired, with both of them helping to run their social media presence. They get a decent amount of people at their grand opening despite their location being slightly out of the way, and apparently those people liked their experience because they end up getting a handful of regulars, most notably some guy named Clint that Natasha claims to know, a pair of Norwegian brothers named Thor and Loki that Sam swears are actual gods, a timid PhD student named Bruce, and a woman named Carol and her girlfriend, Maria who are the biggest Captain Marvel fangirls that they’ve ever met. Their popularity grows–especially after Abraham closes–and they soon find themselves making a healthy bit of profit. Healthy enough that they’re able to decorate their shop more (Natasha insists that they place a life-sized statute of Black Widow near the front doors) and they tack-on other things, like shirts and posters and snacks to sell. Bucky gets his prosthetic somewhere around the first month that they’ve been open. It’s a wickedly shiny silver, and Steve suggested that he place a red star sticker on his wrist (because his shoulder isn’t visible 99.9% of the time) to represent Bucky’s favorite hero, and Bucky actually does that. Sometimes people ask to touch it. He lets them. Sometimes people ask what happened. He deflects them. At some point, a guy walks in with ruffled hair and glasses and Bucky nearly chokes on the soda that he’s drinking. Sure, they’ve had their fair share of cute customers, but that guy’s cute, and he’s gonna end up making a fool of himself. It’s not like he can ask Steve to talk instead because Steve just went out on his damn lunch break. He tries not to stare at the guy as he peruses the shelves and rifles through the boxes of back issues they have set out in the middle of the floor. He tries really, really hard, taking his phone out and scrolling through whatever social media website and liking the replies to their posts. Every once in a while, he glances at the door, half-expecting Steve to walk in at any time.

Then the guy (now dubbed Cutie in Bucky’s mind) comes up and he smiles at Bucky in greeting and Bucky would probably sob if that wouldn’t make him come off as a complete weirdo. Cutie hauls up a veritable stack and places it on the counter. Despair courses through Bucky’s veins when he sees the Captain America comic on top, because he could do so much better. “Mmm, I’m just getting those because my friend likes Captain America,” Cutie says and oh, shit, did he say that out loud? “I’m partial to Iron Man myself.” “Iron Man’s cool an’ all,” Bucky replies, somehow managing to keep himself from running out the front door and never looking back, “but he’s not my favorite.” Cutie’s eyes flick down to the red star sticker on his wrist. “Let me guess: Winter Soldier?” Bucky clicks his tongue. “Yup.” Cutie laughs, and it’s a really nice sound that Bucky wouldn’t mind hearing again. When he’s finished ringing Cutie up, he mentions the membership that they have going and how members have a pull list and would he like to sign up? Mentally, he crosses his fingers that Cutie says yes because it would be a shame if he only got to see him once in his life. A damn, damn shame.

So, he should be thankful that Cutie says yes and he finds out that Cutie’s name is actually Tony and Tony just moved from Malibu and it was his friend James–whom he calls Rhodey–that recommended this place to him. (He goes through a list of James in his head, and figures that it most likely is James Rhodes, who also happens to be a member. He should send him a gift basket.)

Tony ends up leaving around the same time Steve comes back from his lunch break, and Steve must have this sort of sixth sense because he sends Bucky a knowing, amused look.

Tony drops by every 2nd and 4th Wednesday, and it’s always at 12:40 PM, give or take a few minutes. His pull list isn’t particularly long–or at least, it isn’t something that he needs to drop in twice a month for, but Bucky’s not going to complain, not when he’s able to see the way Tony’s eyes sparkle when the topic crosses over to a story arc that he’s passionate about or the way the tip of his tongue pokes out between his lips when he becomes engrossed in what he’s reading. They swap stories, with Bucky finding out that Tony used to be in the robotics club when he was in high school and how his father used to tell him that comics were all “bullshit,” so that threw him off of them for a bit. He always asks Bucky if he recommends something before he leaves, if he saw that episode of Game of Thrones, or if he’s simply feeling okay.

Tony’s visits last longer and longer and longer, until it’s basically just him and Bucky talking for hours on end, their topics ranging from comic cons to what they had for dinner last night. (Steve laments how he’s always the one stuck helping customers because he doesn’t have the heart to interrupt him and Tony when they look so concentrated on each other. He begs Bucky to just ask Tony out already because he can’t take it anymore.)

Bucky ends up asking Tony out on accident. Y’see, Tony was excitedly talking about the movie adaption of Iron Man that’s supposed to be coming out soon, and Bucky blurted out that he wouldn’t mind taking Tony out to see it, just the two of ‘em and some popcorn.

Tony says that he’d love to, and Bucky wonders if he should thank Steve for going out to lunch those few months ago.

#pull list au

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miamistax · 4 years

Text

Read this. Someone you know has lived these same experiences. This must end now.

David Gamble, Jr.

I grew up in Reno, Nevada.

In third grade a boy confidently tells me and my brother that his mom said black people cannot swim because our muscles are different than those of white people.

In middle school, standing among a group of white classmates talking video games, I am the only black child. One classmate expresses surprise that my family has enough money to afford a PlayStation.

In high school, I am the only black kid among a group of friends. When sharing drinks in my presence they frequently tell each other not to “niggerlip” the bottles. Even though I object, they continue to use the phrase.

In high school, my brother is at a teen house party that gets broken up by police, a common occurrence. The kids at the party scatter, also a common occurrence. My brother, the only black child in attendance, is the only one on whom a police officer draws a firearm to get him to stop running away. He is 14.

In high school, a group of my white friends frequently sneak on to the outdoor basketball courts at an athletic club to play. They can usually play for hours, including with club members. On the two occasions I attend, club members complain and we are ejected from the club within minutes.

In high school, I am excited about black history month and am talking to a friend about black inventors. My friend snorts and says, “Black people have never invented anything.”

In high school, as graduation approaches, many of my white friends tell me that I am lucky. They tell me that due to my skin color, I will get into any college I want.

I remain in Reno for college.

During college an employer keeps food for employees in the break room refrigerator. One morning I decided to have microwaveable chicken wings for breakfast. The employer tells me I might not want to eat that for breakfast with my skin color. The employer immediately apologizes.

In college I am standing in a group of white friends on campus. A white acquaintance of one of my friends approaches to chat. The acquaintance tells a story about something that frustrated him and then reels off a series of expletives ending with the word, “nigger.” None of my friends corrects him.

In college I visit an antique shop in Auburn, California with my girlfriend, who is white, and her parents. The shopkeeper follows me around the store whistling loudly as I browse, until we leave.

I move to San Diego, California for law school.

In law school, during a discussion in my criminal law class, a white classmate suggests that police officers should take a suspect’s race into account when determining whether there is reasonable suspicion to believe that an individual is committing a crime.

The weekend of my law school graduation my family comes to San Diego. I go to the mall with my brother and sister and visit the Burberry store. Two different employees follow us around the store – never speaking to us – until we leave.

After law school, I return to Reno.

A co-worker jokingly calls me “King David” upon seeing me each day. I joke that I’m not treated like a king. The co-worker then begins to call me “Slave David” each time we encounter one another. When I ask the co-worker to stop because it is hurtful, I am told by my co-worker that this is a problem that I have in my head.

I attend a pub crawl with friends. We end up at a party in a hotel suite in downtown Reno. I am greeted by a white man at the door who loudly expresses surprise that I am an “educated negro” upon hearing me speak.

I walk a friend who is a white woman from a restaurant to her car because it is night time. As we stand by the car chatting, a police officer pulls up and shines a light on us, asking if everything is okay. Once my friend confirms, the officer drives away. I tell her that he was worried about her, she teasingly says, “Oh yeah, because you’re so scary.” Later, I tell another white friend I felt racially profiled by the officer. My friend shrugs and says, “I don’t know man, that’s a stretch.”

A white friend tells me that white voters have become upset at black people because of black people’s liberal use of food welfare benefits. When I point out that more whites than blacks receive welfare benefits in the U.S., my friend expresses confusion at how that could be the case.

I leave a downtown restaurant with my wife. As we walk along the river a homeless man appears to be having a schizophrenic episode, engaging auditory hallucinations. Upon seeing me, he becomes lucid and begins to shout the word “nigger” over and over.

I discover that one of my clients does not want me to represent him as his Public Defender because he does not want a black attorney. I am given the option to withdraw as counsel. I do not.

Last year, I am at a barbecue chatting with a white acquaintance who asks if I have ever experienced racism. When I say it is a nearly daily occurrence, the acquaintance retorts, without missing a beat, “Bullshit.”

Two months ago. I am driving to lunch with the black teen I mentor. At a red light a white woman crosses the street. As I begin to drive, she turns around and screams at us, “F**k you f****ing nigger!”

Before any of these instances, my family of origin moved to Reno, Nevada from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania in 1984.

My mother recently told me that when I was a very young child my parents hired a company to remove a tree from our front lawn. Two white men showed up and removed the tree. One of them carved a swastika into the stump. My father had to confront him and ask him to remove it.

Before that, my now 93 -year-old grandfather served in the Army National Guard and was stationed in the U.S. south. Despite being active duty, he was not allowed to eat in restaurants due to “whites only” signage. He had to wait for fellow Guardsmen to bring him food outside.

Not long before that, my family were slaves, owned by Americans of English and Irish descent, which is why – despite being primarily of African descent – I have an English last name.

This is my experience of being black in America. To be black in America is to be told over and over that you are not good enough, that you do not belong, that you are genetically unfit, that your physical presence is undesirable, and that everything about you – right down to your lips – is wrong. It is absolutely true that everyone experiences hardships in life, but the psychological weight of being told both explicitly and implicitly, on a daily basis, that your very existence is objectionable can at times feel unbearable.

And despite this experience, I still love my country, my state, and my city. Despite my experience, I would not choose to be anything other than a black American. The history of black people in this country is one of struggle and triumph. Our people were brought to this country as slaves and against all odds, in the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles, have made our mark. Through slavery, poll taxes, literacy tests, redlining, and black codes we have persevered. Through the unspeakable horrors of mass lynchings; the Tuskegee syphilis experiments; and the massacres at Tulsa and Rosewood, we have persevered.

Bass Reeves, Dovey Johnson Roundtree, Sarah Boone, Oscar Micheaux, Shirley Chisholm, Dorie Miller, Susie King Taylor, Georgia Gilmore, Octavius Catto, Jack Johnson, Garrett Morgan, James W.C. Pennington. These are just a handful of extraordinary and oft forgotten black Americans who helped to mold and preserve the American Dream. These individuals and their accomplishments should not be regarded as “black history,” but rather as American history.

I am an American of privilege, which makes me an African American of great privilege. I am an attorney. I live in a safe neighborhood. My children do not worry about their next meal. I can afford child care. My family can afford personal vehicles. If my children become sick, I can take them to the doctor. If I am this privileged, and these have been my experiences, primarily in my own hometown, often with friends and acquaintances who are fond of me, and of whom I remain fond even now; just imagine what daily life must be like for a black person in this country who does not enjoy my level of privilege.

The protests in the streets of America are certainly about the killing of George Floyd, but not just about George Floyd. They are about countless black men, women, and children for whom the punishment did not fit the crime – if indeed there was a crime at all. We live in a country where, in order to recall what life under Jim Crow felt like, many white Americans must pick up a history book. Meanwhile, many black Americans need only pick up a telephone, and call their parents.

When we as people of color share our experiences, we are not doing so to score political points, “play the race card,” get sympathy, assign blame, or to make you feel bad about yourself. We are asking you for help. We are asking you to join us in the ongoing fight against racism in our country, because we cannot do it alone. It will take Americans of every stripe to eradicate racism from American society.

I am now asking for your help. Please seek truth and knowledge. When sharing information, please check your sources and make sure that they are reliable. Try to place what is happening today into a historical context. Read about systemic racism and anti-racism. When your friends of color tell you that racism is real and affecting their lives, believe them and then, if you can, do something about it.

My children are likely to attend the same middle school and high school that I did. It is my great hope for them that those around them have the knowledge, compassion, and guidance to know better than to daily deluge them with words that make them doubt their intelligence, their beauty, and their worth as human beings based only on the color of their skin; and instead judge them by the content of their character.

It is for all of the above reasons, and so many more that we proudly say #blacklivesmatter

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cruezins · 5 years

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☣ ; ( KIM TAEHYUNG , 24 , HE/HIM ) coming up next on rebel radio is OPAUL by FREDDIE DREDD . this tune goes out to SIWON RYU . rumor has it they just rolled into town and are fightin’ for the GHOULS . they’re AFFABLE , INQUISITIVE but also AIMLESS , MERCURIAL so watch your backs out there . we wish them the best of luck here in our golded city of light . stay vigilant , stay dirty rock ‘n rollers and we’ll catch you for the next one .

𝐎𝐎𝐂 : hello ! i’m deni and i don’t know what editing is . i use she/her pronouns and live in the gmt+9 timezone . i’m terrible with ooc chats and half the time just want to vibe a connection or plot idea , so please don’t hesitate to throw a half-formed thought at me because i swear i’ll do the same . my discord is gay fairy#6371 . anyway , here is siwon , someone i’ve been work-shopping for a while ! looking forward to writing with you ♡

☣ ; 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇 .

cw : drug mentions ; stop me if you’ve heard this one before------

his dad’s a junkie and he hasn’t seen his mom since some fatcats bought their restaurant for a steal a few years before , but that’s the way of life for a lot of people in the underground . young , bored , and desperate to hear and smell anything that wasn’t the rottenness of his own childhood home , siwon found himself on the streets more nights than not , spray paint in one hand , painting nights in greens and purples until reds and blues chased him away . makes his first steal before he can tie his shoes . creates alliances with the neighborhood kids , sneaks around to watch how the haves live with their pretty , pretty screens and their ugly , ugly words . school isn’t anything special , either , and while siwon can’t remember shit that he reads from a page he can work with his hands . fast and efficient , nimble fingers whether they’re flying across a keyboard or fucking around with some screws . you can make something of yourself , some of his teachers tell him while others can’t stop bitching about homework or tardiness or the way he falls asleep in the middle of class . but what’s siwon supposed to make ? he and his ragtag group of weirdos he calls friends . when he gets older and nights get hungrier , siwon learns to stop relying on the benevolence of neighbors and finds a job --- he’s fast , after all , with a sweet face and wide eyes , makes a helluva getaway after years and years of running .

thieving’s a natural grift . he’d been training for this his whole life . then he catches the eyes of a boss man who isn’t nearly as mad as he should be catching some kid with his wallet in his hands . courier comes next , ferrying messages from a bunch of suits all over the city . siwon never opened the packages , never second guesses the credits that start bloating his account . desperate , he does what he’s told and does it well ------ and that’s the real kicker , isn’t it ? that after a year and some-odd months of dedicated service they leave him high and dry with some bullshit he doesn’t have any involvement with . after years of running , boys in blue finally catch him and he’s left to take the fall of some dumb fuckery , man , and he’s pissed . steaming in jail , it’s a wonder some other gang didn’t get to him first . the longer he sat and talked with that ghoul member , the more he grew to despise the rich , the ones who left him to rot after all the shit he did for them . what was even the point anymore ? dog eat dog kind of bullshit , no sense of loyalty or shit anywhere . the law and all that money was out to get him from the beginning and siwon had enough of it . a few months locked up but he learned and leaned and learned , only able to get out on a technicality . the second he stepped back out into the sun , siwon followed the map given to him and signed up for the ghouls . city of light be damned . the only lights he wants to see are flames eating this hellhole alive .

☣ ; 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 .

➤ full name. ryu si-won ➤ date of birth. january 29th ➤ hometown. city of light ➤ gender. cis male ➤ affiliation. ghouls ➤ primary occupation. drug runner , pickpocket ➤ secondary occupation. network manager at an internet cafe

➤ sexual attraction. pansexual ➤ romantic attraction. panromantic ➤ character alignment. chaotic neutral ➤ personality type. enfp ➤ temperament. sanguine ➤ wants. power , family

stands around 5′11 . broad shoulders , slim hips . floppy , messy hair and sun browned skin . half legs . a few pieces of silver in his ears and a small hoop on his bottom lip . dresses somewhere between a washed up rockstar , your college weed dealer , and a miami vice reject . style’s a whim with a closet’s chaotic mix of anything he thrifts or patches together . most of the time he’s sporting cuffed jeans , vintage blouse , a denim jacket or tweed blazer and thick ass boots . keeps all that hair back with a bandanna or a headband , hair ties on his wrist . nothing in his closet’s technically new and he loves looking for a bargain steal —— or simply just a steal . likes colors just as much as he likes his neutrals . wears a black air filtration mask and fingerless gloves . considers his floral button-up shirts fancy material and his trousers cut off at the ankles . likes the smell of old leather and the breathing of fringe on a jacket , the weight of heavy rings on his fingers and sunglasses swooped low on his nose . wears a monocle because he can’t be fucked with reading glasses . his hair’s been every color of the rainbow and he’s always changing it up thanks to temporary dye .

☣ ; 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 .

hustles at arcade halls , scarfs down ramen and burritos like they’re gonna disappear , looks as comfortable in a dark , dirty alley as he does standing under all those lights in the neon district . pockets full of candy and a lollipop between his lips . likes cheap beer and cigarettes , fast talking and smooth smiles . gets up when the sun goes down . who knows if he ever gets a full night’s sleep , but you can find him taking a nap just about anywhere . seems to live for the dark hours and stays busy as a bee , at the internet cafe one moment and grabbing fried cheese sticks in the next before crossing the bridge to watch the street races and venturing to the tunnels for the fighting rings . complains about being broke but puts down bets faster than anyone . lives for the feeling of wind in his hair so the window of his top-floor one bedroom shit hole stays open all the time . feels the rain on his skin , plays with matches . learned how to assemble a gun in less than sixty seconds and stays packing nowadays though he can’t really shoot for shit . spray paints boobs on the sides of government buildings and dicks on malls . looks like an angel under all those holographic lights .

rides a motorbike and his skateboard . can do crazy math in his head and spot fake bills with incredible accuracy . can barely stand to sit still , always moving except when there’s a computer screen in front of him . gets addicted to things so easily it’s scary --- people , food , liquor , feelings . craves that intimacy , craves that closeness that’s always been denied to him . has a loud as fuck laugh and a love for sneaking into places where he doesn’t belong . catches extra cash on the side by fixing up broken-down machines and can figure his way around a motor with a bit of elbow grease . still sees his family . not as much as a good son would , but he sends cash when he can and looks after his younger sister , makes sure she stays well and clean . they don’t know half of what he’s gotten up to since he was let out of prison , but they might have some idea --- after all , who’d pay a crooked boy with a record as well as he seems to be ? when the sun starts to come up and he crashes into bed , siwon stares out the window and thinks about how in another world , or in another time he probably could’ve been something . could’ve made something great . but for now he’s just got a whole lot of anger , raw like a fresh wound he can’t stop picking at .

☣ ; 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ?

➤ bonds. my loyalty to my friends is unwavering ; i owe everything to my mentor --- a horrible person who’s rotting in jail somewhere ; i fleeced the wrong person and must work to ensure this individual never crosses paths with me . ➤ flaws. once i pick a goal , i become obsessed with it to the detriment of everything else in my life ; when I see something valuable , i can't think about anything but how to steal it ; i have a weakness for the vices of the city .

he’s friendly , but he doesn’t make friends easily --- the ones that he has made , he’d do anything for . because that’s how he’s gotten this far , right ? all those people who looked after him when others tried to stomp him out . he’s still close with his teen friends who threw a few grifts with him , gaming buddies that he knows only through a screen . little escapes from all the other bullshit going on in the world . even though he isn’t a club guy , he runs into more than a few faces on his rounds . maybe they’re bad influences or sweethearts who help that touch starved affliction that comes from living in a city so wired . on the flip side , there’s some enemies --- competitors in the runner world , antagonists he meets at the races or rings for whatever reason ( insane bets make tempers run hot , who knows when they’ll flare for good and siwon’s learning the hard way how to keep his mouth shut ) . he’s fixed up a few cars or weapons for people recently because he misses working with his hands . y’know , making nice . then there’s people he’s caught in a crossfire with , where they’ve met something nasty one too many times before over turf , territory and clients . a newer face to the ghouls , he’s bugged someone into mentoring him , and gone on a few runs with someone he loves to call a coworker .

eager to prove himself as more than a green kid with a keyboard and an eye for detail , find him cutting deals and making trades in smokey barbecue houses , hole-in-the wall ramen shops or by taco tents . a full bellied class of clients are happy clients in his opinion , and siwon isn’t above not making deals with the other groups who’s names aren’t violent delights . speaking of which --- there are definitely some skeletons there he aims to confront , some old demons to fight from that class of people that fucked him over . there’s an ex lover in there somewhere , probably met in that pre-prison childhood phase when he mingled past class lines more ( ~1.5-2 years ago ) . someone he’s healthily fearful of for whatever reason , and maybe a vendetta against the family that scammed his parents out of their business and basically sent his life spiraling . there’s someone who isn’t what they seem --- he doesn’t know who they really are , and maybe they don’t know who he is , either . they’ll learn eventually . someone he’s protective over , someone who protects him in ways he doesn’t even know , and those he looks after because they grew up on the same side . desperate for connection , desperate for a place , he finds it all in heaven and hell .

#neongraves:intro #. 𝐒𝐈𝐖𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐘𝐔 ➤ DEVELOPMENT .#this is A Lot #but i had so many notes for myself #let's see how this pans #chaos reigns always

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ktheist · 4 years

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it's kinda hard finding jin fics with a good plot for me and I've been having s t a r v i n g,, bUT PGDGH HAS FED ME A WHOLE THREE COURSE MEAL🥵🥵 I really though i was gonna get 🐔blocked again but thank goodness I wasn't ! ngl it kinda hurted tho when taehyung suddenly asked oc to wait 4 him😢 and when jin was all like "what did I ever do to make you think I don't love you" MAYHAPS I UWU :3 I like how both characters have a backbone and the way jin was written was really refreshing !! (1/2)

Anonymous said: also I feel like I'm lowkey getting an vocab lesson while reading your fics bc I'm learning so many new words maybe I wont b so head empty now lmao. Funnily enough mine and jin's age gap irl is the same as jin and oc's in pgdgh!! so maybe that's why this fic hit especially different 4 my delulu brain🤪🤪 PLEASE do write the drabbles for this fic bc I cant just let this couple go🥺 I'm looking forward to your next fics💜💜 (2/2)

i’M HAPPY TO BE A FEEDER 🤤🤤 jdjksasda you sound so convinced that you were gonna get cockblocked again but yoURE NOT WRONG might happen in my upcoming fics jdsjkdada

oooft tae and oc are my fav dynamic to write - and if you haven’t seen my story time, here’s something for your heart: they’re soulmates!!! who can’t be together!! ((well they could have but tae got scared that a relationship’s gonna ruin their friendship and turned oc down but he loved her just as much too riP)) I’M UWU-ING NOW BC YOU NOTICED THAT LINE JIN SAID!!! idk it’s the softest line ever i would melt if a guy told me that instead of the usual ‘ily’ (”: no pls my head is empty most of the time too we should make a ‘no thought head empty today’ club adkashdkasa OOFT I SEE YOU LIKING OLDER MEN IRL TOO WELCOME TO THE CLUB (how many clubs are we having tho eye-)

AND I DID MAKE A DRABBLE CALLED hana, 2,3! a few days ago!!! they skipped the pregnancy part and got a kid but you’re gonna catch me backtracking and posting a fic while they shop for baby stuff or when they find out they’re pregnant and sm more bc who doesn’t like parent au???

#cara to ask #fic: pretty girls don't get hurt #people with shades

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sf9pentagoner · 6 years

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Dare - SF9 Chani Smut

Author: Admin Kay

Prompt: Request: can i possibly request either friends to lovers or enemies to lovers where nothing happens until sf8 literally have to lock you in a room with chani and suddenly everything happens ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Word Count: 4.2 K

Notes: It’s quite detailed, and nasty so I hopefully ya’ll won’t mind... most of you seem so soft... 🙃 but if there are any other Chani nasties out there like me, Merry Christmas lol And also, sorry it’s kinda long!

**WARNING: contains sexual content**

[Chani 5:31 PM]: Hey, just finished practice, meet at 6?

[You 5:33 PM]: Yeah, I’ll see you then!

Your heart raced as you locked your phone, placing it on the kitchen counter before rushing upstairs to change.

Chani and you first became friends in your first year of high school and have since, become best friends… but somewhere along the way, you ended up developing feelings for him and you had yet to build up the courage to confess… that is, if you ever did. You didn’t really have any intentions on making the first move, but rather, you chose to wait it out and hope that one day, as your friendship continued to grow, so would his feelings for you. Quickly, you chose out a cute outfit and then walked over to the cafe where the two of you were supposed to meet.

“Hey,” he greeted, as he approached the table at which you were seated.

“Hey.”

“Um, before I forget… I wanted to ask if you’re busy on Saturday?”

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m free. Why?”

“Manager-nim gave us the day off so we’re having like a game night. There’ll be food and stuff so I thought maybe you’d wanna come?”

“Oh, yeah, I’d love to! I haven’t seen everyone in a while.”

“Awesome, I’ll let Youngbin know so he can pick you up.”

“Thanks.”

Youngbin [5:22 PM]: I’m outside

You [5:23 PM]: Coming

“Awww,” the boys cooed, making Chani quickly pull away from you and glare at them bitterly, returning you an awkward smile before taking a seat of the floor.

“Go get some snacks,” Youngbin offered, gesturing towards the kitchen, “We have lots.”

“Thanks,” you smiled nervously before making your way into the kitchen to see what kind of snacks the boys had prepared.

“Hey,” Jaeyoon spoke up as he followed you into the kitchen.

“Yeah, hi,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as he made his way towards you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Thanks for keeping our secret…”

“What do you mean?”

“Um, when ‘you know who’ hugged me and everyone was ‘aw’-ing about it? Would you like to explain that?”

“Oh, that secret… I only told Inseong, I swear!”

“And then?”

“Well… I guess he told Dawon and then Dawon told—”

“Exactly… and now everyone knows…”

“Chani doesn’t know.”

“How wouldn’t he?”

“I dunno, but he’s pretty clueless…”

“Ugh… I swear to god Jaeyoon, I’m never trusting you with a secret ever again.”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

“Yeah whatever…”

Grabbing your food, you quickly made your way back out to the living room and sat on the couch next to Taeyang in an attempt to avoid the comments you’d get from the boys had you sat next to Chani.

“Hi,” Taeyang smiled as you plopped down next to him.

“Hey,” you replied as you started eating your snacks.

“You didn’t wanna sit by Chani?”

You almost choked when you heard what he’d said, assuming he was hinting at your crush yet again.

“No… why would I want to sit by him?” you remarked coldly, trying to hide your feelings.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “I just figured you guys are best friends so…”

“O-oh… right, yeah… but I see him every week. I’m here to hang out with you guys now.”

Finally, after everyone was gathered back in the living room, Youngbin announced that they would be starting the first game, ‘Never Have I Ever.’

“I wanna start!” Dawon yelled excitedly, raising his hand, “Never have I ever sucked a dick!”

“Really?” Youngbin looked at him in disbelief.

“What? It’s true.”

“Y/n put her finger down!” Dawon announced, pointing you out to everyone, “So who was it?”

“Was it someone in this room?” Inseong chimed in.

“I bet it was Jaeyoon,” Rowoon interjected.

“Me?!” Jaeyoon exclaimed, “You’re more of a flirt than me!”

“No guys, it was with Chani,” Zuho remarked, “Him and y/n are always together.”

“We only go to the coffee shop!” Chani replied defensively.

“Guys stop!” you snapped, “It was my ex, okay? And it was just once, Jesus Christ… will you guys ever give me a break?”

“Yeah guys give her a break, she’s our guest,” Youngbin scolded, “Now moving on to Hwiyoung.”

“Never have I ever drank until I was drunk,” Hwiyoung said confidently, knowing his hyungs had been drunk numerous times before.

“Aw man,” Dawon complained, putting a finger down, along with all the other boys except the maknae line.

“Ok…” Inseong started, “Never have I ever had a crush on anyone since we debuted.”

“What about that one girl?! The one you met at the club?” Jaeyoon, interrupted.

“I never liked her. We were just talking for a little bit.”

“Pft,” Jaeyoon rolled his eyes as he put down a finger.

Once you snapped out of it, you noticed Jaeyoon staring at you intensely with his eyebrows raised, gesturing towards Chani while angrily mouthing, Put your finger down!

Really?! You mouthed back, discreetly putting a finger down in hopes that no one would say anything… but of course, nothing goes unseen with these boys.

“Y/n put her finger down!” Dawon yelled, ratting you out again.

“Seriously?!” you groaned, “Why do you keep picking on me? There should be rules, only one remark per person.”

“Fine...” he replied, “Chani put his finger down!”

“What the?!” Chani remarked, his eyes wide as all the boys turned their heads toward him.

You had to admit, you felt a little bit bad, having been in his position just a few minutes ago, but at the same time, you were curious to know about this little crush of his.

“Do you still like her?” Rowoon asked.

“Um… I guess?” Chani replied nervously.

“I guess?! What kind of answer is that,” Dawon scolded, “It’s a yes or no question.”

“Okay, yes! Geez…” he sighed frustratedly.

“Is she in this room?!” Jaeyoon asked boldly, all the eyes in the room turning to you momentarily before returning to Chani.

His ears and cheeks began to turn red as the boys stared him down, his eyes quickly darting to the floor as he answered, “N-no…”

“I don’t know…” Inseong started, raising his eyebrows at the younger boy, “You’re pretty red right now.”

“Ugh,” Chani groaned, covering his face with his hands.

“Do you like y/n?” Taeyang interrupted, only embarrassing him more.

“That’s a great idea!” Dawon shouted, “We should play ‘Truth or dare!’”

“We didn’t even finish this game,” Hwiyoung argued.

“We were never gonna finish anyways,” Jaeyoon shrugged.

“Alright then, let’s take five and then meet back here,” Youngbin announced, “There’s still tons of food that we have to finish.”

On the other hand, you couldn’t stop thinking about the whole situation with Chani’s little crush. He didn’t say it out right, but it really did seem like you were the one he was crushing on… you wanted to know more, but you figured with the given the situation, it wasn’t the best time to ask.

“Alright,” Youngbin spoke up, “I wrote down everyone’s names and put them in this bowl, so when it’s your turn, you draw a name and ask them truth or dare. I’ll start this time.”

Sticking his hand in the bowl, he pulled out a piece of paper and opened it, “Zuho, truth or dare?”

“Hm… truth,” he replied.

“Okay, we’ll start easy. Has manager-nim ever caught you doing something bad?”

“I remember that,” Rowoon laughed, “He was so mad that he almost banned all of us from going to the convenience store!”

“Alright, your turn,” Youngbin said handing the bowl to Zuho.

“Jaeyoon, truth or dare.”

“Dare!”

“I dare you to call your most recent contact and tell them ‘I love you.’”

“Hello?” he answered in a giggly voice.

“Inseong oppa! Saranghae!” Jaeyoon said in a high pitched voice, making kissy noises into the phone before hanging up, resulting in a roar of laughter from the boys.

Once everyone calmed down, Zuho handed the bowl to Jaeyoon.

“Y/n! Truth or dare,” Jaeyoon smiled.

“Dare,” you finally answered, holding your breath as you awaited Jaeyoon’s response.

“I dare you to… sit on Chani’s lap.”

Your jaw instantly dropped as you processed what he’d said, your eyes narrowing at him as you remained glued to your seat.

“Go on now, you chose dare,” he stated smugly, gesturing towards Chani.

It took a minute or so for the boys to finally calm down, Jaeyoon resuming the game by handing you the bowl.

“Hwiyoung… truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Uh… I dare you to… kiss the members on both sides of you.”

“Chani!” Dawon yelled excitedly, pulling you out of your trance and drawing your attention back to the game, “Truth or dare?”

“Oh no,” Chani groaned under his breath; he was practically in the same position that you were with Jaeyoon, a lose, lose situation. “I’m gonna regret this…” he muttered before speaking up, “Dare.”

“Yes!!” Dawon cheered, “I dare you to go in your room with y/n for the rest of the game.”

“Nice!” Jaeyoon laughed, giving him a high-five.

“Seriously?!” Chani sighed, looking at Dawon in disbelief.

“Mhm,” he grinned, “Now move along, love birds.”

“Ugh, fine,” Chani grumbled, urging you to stand up before standing up himself, “C’mon y/n, let’s go.”

“Have fun!” Dawon yelled, waving as the two of you walked away.

“But not too much fun!” Jaeyoon added.

“You guys are terrible,” Youngbin remarked, shaking his head.

“They needed a push!”

“Um…” he started quietly, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke, “Sorry about that whole situation… I know they can be a little crazy, but they don’t mean any harm…”

“I know, it’s okay…” you assured, pausing for a second before speaking again, “So um… I-I was wondering…”

“Yeah?”

“They asked earlier about you liking someone… is it really… me?”

“Oh… that… uh…well…” The room fell silent as Chani’s eyes darted to the floor, a tinge of pink reappearing on his fair cheeks.

“If it helps… I… like you too.”

“W-wait, what? You do?!”

“Y-yeah…”

“Oh my god… I had no idea.”

“I didn’t know you liked me either.”

“The thing is, I’ve had feelings for you for a while now, but I could never figure out how to tell you… or how to gain the courage to… now I regret staying quiet, though, I would’ve rather told you myself than be exposed by the boys…”

“It’s okay, I wanted to tell you too, but I couldn’t find the courage either… it’s hard to confess.”

The room fell silent again, neither of you having the slightest clue of what to talk about; with all the thoughts and fantasies rushing through your head, it was hard to find words to say. Slowly but surely, your mind got a hold of you, slyly persuading you to make a move and act on your thoughts, but your pounding heart was still afraid. You gulped at the idea of imposing on him, worried that you’d end up pushing him away if he didn’t like it.

The worst case scenario is he’ll just say no, right? You finally convinced yourself, taking a deep breath before finally speaking up.

“Um, Chani?” you started, unable to make eye contact as you spoke, “It might be crazy to ask but… could I maybe… sit on your lap again?”

His eyes widened at your request, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. You cringed watching his speechless, motionless figure, the feeling that you were rushing and had maybe given him too big of a request immediately making your face flush in embarrassment. You were just about to sneak off his bed and go sit on another member’s bed when he stopped you, the look in his eyes pleading you to stay.

“Please do… sorry, I just… I’m so nervous right now…” Holding your hand, he gently pulled you towards him, guiding you over his hips and making you straddle him. He bit his lip as you lowered yourself onto him, his arms wrapping around your waist as yours snuck around the back of his neck.

You could feel the tension building as the two of you stared into each others eyes, your faces no more than a few inches apart. Letting your eyes flutter shut, his lips finally met yours, the new sensation filling your stomach with butterflies. Pulling him closer, you deepened the kiss, your hands quickly finding their way into his dark tresses and gently fisting at them.

Finally eliciting a moan from him gave you a sense of satisfaction, the sound of his deep, sultry voice making your stomach tingle; but even more so, the feeling of his growing erection pressing up against your already dripping core, somehow fired a lust within you more intense than you’d ever experienced before.

Before you knew it, you had him pinned beneath you, your lips still attached as you passionately rolled your hips against his, his sweet moans vibrating against your wet lips. To your surprise, he slipped his tongue past your lips and swirled it around in your wet cavern, the feeling of his hand sliding up to the back of your neck sending chills down your spine.

“Chani,” you mumbled, barely separating your lips from his as you spoke.

“Hm?” he hummed back, stroking his fingers through your hair.

“Can we…?” you trailed off.

“Can we what?”

“Y’know… can we do ‘it’?”

“Oh… um… I dunno… I don’t think it’s a good idea…”

“But, Chani… please?” you pouted, teasingly running your hand down his body before landing on his crotch, “You’re so hard, and I’m so…”

“I know… I want to, it’s just… I dunno, I’m worried… A-are you on the pill?”

“No… but… there’s a condom here… on your nightstand…”

“What…?”

“With a note… ‘Thought you might need this ;) -Dawon.’”

“Oh god…”

“Please?” you begged as you started unbuttoning his pants.

“Y/n…” he grumbled as you continued to unclothed him, desperately pulling his stiff member out of the confinement of his briefs. “Shit...” he muttered as you began to stroke him, the unbelievable amount of pleasure you were giving him making it impossible for him to resist. You weren’t normally that bold, but being so incredibly overcome with lust, you just couldn’t contain yourself anymore, and you wanted him to want you as much as you wanted him.

You pumped him a bit longer before impulsively taking him into your mouth, your lips closing tightly around his shaft as your tongue grazed over the underside.

“Oh my god,” he gasped, his eyes widening as he tried to process what was happening.

You smirked upon seeing his reaction, his face scrunching up, his lower lip disappearing between his teeth as he struggled to restrain his moans. You were determined to get it out of him though, to make him want you so bad that he’ll practically be begging for it. Bobbing your head up and down, you continued to pump whatever part of him you couldn’t take, the little moans and curses that started to slip past his lips feeding your desire to make him feel good.

“Shit!” Chani moaned as he suddenly yanked your head away from him, his breath heavy as his desperate, angry cock throbbed, “I was about to-”

“I wanted you to…”

“Sorry… I-I didn’t want to… not in your mouth… and sorry for pulling your hair…”

“It’s okay…”

“Did you still want to… y’know?”

“If you’re okay with it…”

“I am… but I won’t last long.”

“It’s okay.”

“You’re gorgeous… you don’t need to be shy…” he praised as he gently caressed your bare thighs.

His comment gave you some sense of confidence, willing you to finally crawl over him and position his member so your heat.

“A-are you ready?” you stuttered, the nerves you weren’t feeling earlier finally catching up to you.

“Yeah… are you?”

You hesitated for a moment, struggling to give him an answer as you swallowed thickly.

“We don’t have to do this you know…” he assured, lovingly cupping your face in his hand.

“N-no, I want to,” you finally replied, convincing yourself it was fine. Reaching between your legs, you pulled the thin lace aside and held his swollen tip to your entrance as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. You winced at the foreign sensation of him inside of you, the strange combination of pain and pleasure giving you a mixture of emotions.

“Are you okay?” Chani asked, noticing your change in expression.

“Yeah,” you whimpered as you began to slowly roll your hips.

“You feel so good,” he praised as you rode him, his hand going up to cup your face again.

In a matter of seconds he gave you that final push over the edge, your climax approaching quicker than you could adhere to.

“Chani I’m— !” you barely started when euphoria finally erupted inside of you, your weakening body collapsing on top of his as you rode out your high.

“Me too,” he groaned only seconds after you, your clenching walls milking him to his end.

The room felt hot as the two of you regained your breath, the sound of heavy panting echoing throughout the small room; you’d barely gotten a chance to relax when suddenly, you heard a knock on the door, making you jump off of Chani and hide under the sheets.

“The game is over,” Youngbin said as he popped his head into the room, his neutral expression quickly becoming awkward at the realization that he had ‘interrupted.’ “Um… you can uh… come down whenever you’re ready, no rush,” he mumbled before quickly closing the door.

“So did they do it?” you could make out Dawon’s voice from behind the door.

“I don’t know… maybe… it’s none of your business,” Youngbin replied.

“Hah! I knew it, they’re soo into each other.”

“Oh god,” Chani groaned, facepalming at his groupmates’ remarks, “I’m never gonna hear the end of this.”

“I think… they were just trying to set us up…”

“I know, but you saw how they were playing ‘truth or dare’ and ‘never have I ever’... they’re never gonna let me live this down.”

“At least we have an excuse right? We’re a couple now… couple’s always do that kind of stuff.”

“I guess so… I’m so happy to finally have you… you don’t even know how long I’ve been trying to ask you out...”

“Me too… and even though the boys tease you and poke fun at you, we wouldn’t have gotten together if it weren’t for them.”

“True… Y/n, I love you.”

“I love you too, Chani.”

#kang chani #chani #sf9 chani #kang chanhee #sf9 chanhee #chani smut #chanhee smut #sf9 smut #chani scenario #chanhee scenario #sf9 scenario #sf9 chani scenario #sf9 chani smut #dare chani

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regencyresource · 6 years

Text

( * &. ━ list of slang words from the 1920′s

presenting a long list of slang terms from the “roaring twenties" ! the age of mobsters and jazz ! the time of longing after married women and staring into green-lights to include in your literary ventures ! i claim no ownership for this list, it was sourced HERE.

Alderman: A man's pot-belly

Ameche: Telephone

Ankle: (n) Woman; (v) To walk

Ab-so-lute-ly: Affirmative, yes

Absent treatment: Dancing with a timid partner

Air tight: Very attractive

Airedale: An unattractive man

Alarm clock: A chaperone

All wet: Incorrect

And how!: I strongly agree!

Applesauce: Flattery, nonsense, i.e.. "Aw, applesauce!"

Attaboy!: Well done!; also, Attagirl!

Babe: Woman

Baby: A person, can be said to either a man or a woman

Bangtails: Racehorses

Barber: Talk

Be on the nut: To be broke

Bean-shooter: Gun

Beef: Problem

Bee's Knees: An extraordinary person, thing or idea

Beezer: Nose

Behind the eight ball: In a difficult position, in a tight spot

Bent Cars: Stolen cars

Big Cheese, Big Shot: The boss, someone of importance and influence

Big House: Jail

Big One: Death

Big Sleep: Death

Bim: Woman

Bindle: The bundle in which a hobo carries all his worldly possessions

Bindle punk or bindle stiff: Chronic wanderers, migratory harvest workers, and lumber jacks

Bing: Jailhouse talk for solitary confinement

Bird: Man

Bit: Prison sentence

Blip off: To kill

Blow: Leave

Blow one down: Kill someone

Blower: Telephone

Bluenose: A prude

Bo: Pal, buster, fellow

Boiler: Car

Boob: Dumb guy

Boozehound: Drunkard

Bop: To kill

Box: A safe or a bar

Box job: A safecracking

Brace (somebody): Grab, shake up

Bracelets: Handcuffs

Break it up: Stop that, quit the nonsense

Breeze: To leave, breeze off: get lost

Broad: Woman

Bruno: Tough guy, enforcer

Bucket: Car

Bulge, The: The advantage

Bulls: Plainclothes railroad cops; uniformed police; prison guards

Bum's rush, To get the: To be kicked out

Bump: Kill

Bump Gums: To talk about nothing worthwhile

Bump off: Kill; also, bump-off: a killing

Burn powder: Fire a gun

Bus: Big car

Butter-and-egg-man: The money man, the man with the bankroll, a yokel who comes to town to blow a big wad in nightclubs

Button: Face, nose, end of jaw

Button man: Professional killer

Buttons: Police

Butts: Cigarettes

Buzz: Looks person up, comes to persons door

Buzzer: Policeman's badge

C: $100, a pair of Cs = $200

Cabbage: Money

Caboose: Jail

Call copper: Inform the police

Can: Jail, Car

Can house: Bordello

Can-opener: Safecracker who opens cheap safes

Canary: Woman singer

Carry a Torch: Suffering from an unrequited love

Case dough: Nest egg

Cat: Man

Cat's Meow: Something splendid or stylish

Cat's Pajamas: Term of endearment as in "I think you are really really cool"

Century: $100

Cheaters: Sunglasses

Cheese it: Put things away, hide

Chew: Eat

Chicago lightning: Gunfire

Chicago overcoat: Coffin

Chick: Woman

Chilled off: Killed

Chin: Conversation; chinning: talking

Chin music: Punch on the jaw

Chinese squeeze: Grafting by skimming profits off the top

Chippy: Woman of easy virtue

Chisel: To swindle or cheat

Chiv: Knife, "a stabbing or cutting weapon"

Chopper squad: Men with machine guns

Chump: Person marked for a con or a gullible person

Clammed: Close-mouthed (clammed up)

Clean sneak: An escape with no clues left behind

Clip joint: In some cases, a nightclub where the prices are high and the patrons are fleeced

Clipped: Shot

Close your head: Shut up

Clout: Shoplifter

Clubhouse: Police station

Con: Confidence game, swindle

Conk: Head

Cool: To knock out

Cooler: Jail

Cop: Detective, even a private one

Copped, to be: Grabbed by the cops

Copper: Policeman

Corn: Bourbon ("corn liquor")

Crab: Figure out

Crate: Car

Croak: To kill

Croaker: Doctor

Crush: An infatuation

Crushed out: Escaped (from jail)

Cut down: Killed

Daisy: None too masculine

Dame: Woman

Dance: To be hanged

Dangle: Leave, get lost

Daylight, as in "fill him with daylight": Put a hole in, by shooting or stabbing

Deck, as in "deck of Luckies": Pack of cigarettes

Derrick: Shoplifter

Dib: Share (of the proceeds)

Dick: Detective (usually qualified with "private" if not a policeman)

Dingus: Thing

Dip: Pickpocket

Dip the bill: Have a drink

Dish: Pretty woman

Dive: A low-down, cheap sort of place

Dizzy with a dame, To be: To be deeply in love with a woman

Do the dance: To be hanged

Dogs: Feet

Dope fiend: Drug addict

Dope peddler: Drug dealer

Dough: Money

Drift: Go, leave

Drill: Shoot

Drop a dime: Make a phone call, sometimes meaning to the police to inform on someone

Droppers: Hired killers

Drum: Speakeasy

Dry-gulch: Knock out, hit on head after ambushing

Duck soup: Easy, a piece of cake

Dummerer: Someone who pretends to be deaf and/or dumb to appear a more deserving beggar

Dump: Roadhouse, club; or, more generally, any place

Dust out: Leave, depart

Egg: Man

Electric cure: Electrocution

Elephant ears: Police

Fade: Go away, get lost

Fakeloo artist: Con man

Fella: A man

Fin: $5 bill

Finder: Finger man

Finger, Put the finger on: Identify

Flaming Youth: Male counterpart to a flapper

Flapper: A stylish, brash young woman with short skirts and shorter hair

Flat Tire: A dull-witted or disappointing date

Flattie: Flatfoot, cop

Flimflam: Swindle

Flippers: Hands

Flivver: A Ford automobile

Flogger: Overcoat

Flop: Go to bed or fallen through, not worked out

Flophouse: A cheap transient hotel where a lot of men sleep in large rooms

Fog: To shoot

Frail: Woman

Frau: Wife

Fry: To be electrocuted

Fuzz: Police

Gal: Woman

Gams: A Woman’s Legs

Gasper: Cigarette

Gat: Gun

Get Sore: Get mad

Getaway sticks: Legs

Giggle juice: Liquor

Giggle Water: Liquor

Gin mill: Bar

Glad rags: Fancy clothes

Glaum: Steal

Goofy: Crazy

Goog: Black eye

Goon: Thug

Gooseberry lay: Stealing clothes from a clothesline

Gowed-up: On dope, high

Grab (a little) air: Put your hands up

Graft: Con jobs or cut of the take

Grand: $1000

Grift: Confidence game, swindle

Grifter: Con man

Grilled: Questioned

Gumshoe: Detective

Gumshoeing: Detective work

Gun for: Look for, be after

Guns: Pickpockets, Hoodlums

Guy: A man

Hack: Taxi

Half, a: 50 cents

Hard: Tough

Harlem Sunset: Some sort fatal injury caused by knife

Hash House: A cheap restaurant

Hatchet men: Killers, gunmen

Have the Bees: To be rich

Head doctors: Psychiatrists

Heap: Car

Heat: Police

Heater: Gun

Heebie-Jeebies: The jitters

Heeled: Carrying a gun

High-Hat: To snub

High Pillow: Person at the top, in charge

Highbinders: Corrupt politician or functionary

Hinky: Suspicious

Hitting the pipe: Smoking opium

Hitting on all eight: In good shape, going well

Hock shop: Pawnshop

Hogs: Engines

Hombre: Man, fellow

Hooch: Liquor

Hood: Criminal

Hoofer: Dancer

Hoosegow: Jail

Horn: Telephone

Hot: Stolen

Hotsy-Totsy: Pleasing

House dick: House/hotel detective

House peeper: House/hotel detective

Hype: Shortchange artist

Ice : Diamonds

Ing-bing, as in to throw an: A fit

Iron: A car

Jack: Money

Jalopy: An old car

Jam: Trouble, a tight spot

Jane: A woman

Java: Coffee

Jaw: Talk

Jerking a nod: Nodding

Jingle-brained: Addled

Jobbie: Man

Joe: Coffee, as in "a cup of joe"

Johns: Police

Johnson brother: Criminal

Joint: Place, as in "my joint"

Juice: Interest on a loanshark's loan

Jug: Jail

Jump, The: A hanging

Kale: Money

Keen: Attractive or appealing

Kick off: Die

Kiss: To punch

Kisser: Mouth

Kitten: Woman

Knock off: Kill

Lammed off: Ran away, escaped

Large: $1,000; twenty large would be $20,000

Law, the: The police

Lead, "fill ya full of lead": the term used for bullets

Lead poisoning: To be shot

Lettuce: Folding money

Lid: Hat

Line: Insincere flattery

Lip: (Criminal) lawyer

Looker: Pretty woman

Look-out: Outside man

Lousy with: To have lots of

Mac: A man

Made: Recognized

Map: Face

Marbles: Pearls

Mark: Sucker, victim of swindle or fixed game

Maroon: Person marked for a con or a gullible person

Meat wagon: Ambulance

Mickey Finn: A drink drugged with knock-out drops

Mill: Typewriter

Mitt: Hand

Mob: Gang (not necessarily Mafia)

Mohaska: Gun

Moll: Girlfriend

Monicker: Name

Mouthpiece: Lawyer

Mugs: Men (especially refers to dumb ones)

Nailed: Caught by the police

Nevada gas: Cyanide

Newshawk: Reporter

Newsie: Newspaper vendor

Nibble one: To have a drink

Nicked: Stole

Nippers: Handcuffs

Noodle: Head

Number: A person

Off the track: Said about a person who becomes insanely violent

Op: Detective

Orphan paper: Bad checks

Out on the roof: To drink a lot, to be drunk

Oyster fruit: Pearls

Packing Heat: Carrying a gun

Pal: A man

Palooka: Man, probably not very smart

Pan: Face

Paste: Punch

Patsy: Person who is set up; fool, chump

Paw: Hand

Peaching: Informing

Peeper: Detective

Peepers: Eyes

Pen: Penitentiary, jail

Peterman: Safecracker who uses nitroglycerin

Piece: Gun

Pigeon: Stool-pigeon

Pinch: An arrest, capture

Pins: Legs

Pipe: See or notice

Pipes: Throat

Plant: Someone on the scene but in hiding, Bury

Plug: Shoot

Plugs: People

Poke: Bankroll, stake

Pooped: Killed

Pop: Kill

Pro skirt: Prostitute

Puffing: Mugging

Pug: Pugilist, boxer

Pump: Heart

Pump metal: Shoot bullets

Punk: Hood, thug

Pushover: A person easily convinced of something

Puss: Face

Put down: Drink

Put the screws on: Question, get tough with

Rags: Clothes

Ranked: Observed, watched, given the once-over

Rap: Criminal charge

Rappers: Fakes, set-ups

Rat: Inform

Rate: To be good, to count for something

Rats and mice: Dice, i.e. craps

Rattler: Train

Red-light: To eject from a car or train

Redhot: Some sort of criminal

Reefers: Marijuana cigarettes

Rhino: Money

Right: Adjective indicating quality

Ringers: Fakes

Ritzy: Elegant

Rod: Gun

Roscoe: Gun

Rub-out: A killing

Rube: Bumpkin, easy mark

Rumble, the: The news

Sap: A dumb guy

Sap poison: Getting hit with a sap

Savvy: Get me? Understand?

Sawbuck: $10 bill (a double sawbuck is a $20 bill)

Schnozzle: Nose

Scram out: Leave

Scratch: Money

Scratcher: Forger

Send over: Send to jail

Shamus: (Private) detective

Sharper: A swindler or sneaky person

Sheba: A woman with sex appeal

Sheik: A man with sex appeal

Shells: Bullets

Shiv: Knife

Shylock: Loanshark

Shyster: Lawyer

Sing: Make a confession

Sister: Woman

Skate around: To be of easy virtue

Skid rogue: A bum who can't be trusted

Skirt: Woman

Slant, Get a: Take a look

Sleuth: Detective

Slug: A bullet or to knock unconscious

Smoked: Drunk

Snap a cap: Shout

Snatch: Kidnap

Sneeze: Take

Snitch: An informer, or to inform

Snooper: Detective

Speakeasy: An illicit bar selling bootleg liquor

Spiffy: Looking elegant

Soak: To pawn

Sock: Punch

Soup: Nitroglycerine

Soup job: To crack a safe using nitroglycerine

Spill: Talk, inform

Spinach: Money

Spitting: Talking

Square: Honest

Squeeze: A female companion or girlfriend

Squirt metal: Shoot bullets

Step off: To be hanged

Stiff: A corpse

Sting: Culmination of a con game

Stool-pigeon: Informer

Stoolie: Stool-pigeon

Stuck On: Having a crush on

Sucker: Someone ripe for a grifter's scam

Sugar: Money

Swanky: Ritzy

Swell: Wonderful

Tail: Shadow or follow

Take a powder: Leave

Take on: Eat

Take for a Ride: Drive off with someone in order to bump them off

Take the air: Leave

Take the bounce: To get kicked out

Take the fall for: Accept punishment for

That's the crop: That's all of it

Three-spot: Three-year jail term

Throw lead: Shoot bullets

Ticket: P.I. license

Tiger milk: Some sort of liquor

Tighten the screws: Put pressure on somebody

Tin: Badge

Tip a few: To have a few drinks

Tomato: Pretty woman

Tooting the wrong ringer: Asking the wrong person

Torpedoes: Gunmen

Trap: Mouth

Trigger man: Man whose job is to use a gun

Trouble boys: Gangsters

Twist: Woman

Two bits: $25, or 25 cents

Under glass: In jail

Weak sister: A push-over

Wear iron: Carry a gun

Wise head: A smart person

Wooden kimono: A coffin

Wop: derogatory term for an Italian

Worker, as in "She sizes up as a worker": A woman who takes a guy for his money

Wrong gee: Not a good fellow

Wrong number: Not a good fellow

Ya Follow: do you understand?

Yap: Mouth

Yard: $100

Yegg: Safecracker who can only open cheap and easy safes

Zotzed: Killed

Zozzled: Drunk

#vocabulary guide #writing resource #writing guide #writing help #rph #Resource: Writing #*g #*mine

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honeycomq · 5 years

Text

yo , waddup waddup !!! it’s simba again & this time , i’m giving you a glimpse into the life of the party and fellow lambda sigma omega man himself , ARTHUR CHAE ! before reading the listed triggers will be present : self - inflicted injuries , mentions of violence.

* ☆ ◞ IM CHANGKYUN. CISMALE. HE/HIM. ◟ wait, wasn’t that ARTHUR CHAE? they’re a TWENTY-ONE year old JUNIOR, hailing from ALBANY, NEW YORK. i heard they’ve chosen to study PERFORMING ARTS while living at LAMBDA SIGMA OMEGA. word around campus is that they’re EASYGOING & WARM-HEARTED but also quite AWKWARD & REMOTE. if you happen to see them walking to class with their earbuds in, they’re probably listening to BON BON CHOCOLAT by EVERGLOW. ( simba, 18, cst, she/her. )

first off . his music choice ??? i’m STILL laughing

anyWAy , onto this ... fucking disaster , jfc .

arthur was the result of a hookup gone bad . his dad was a male escort and his mother was just a client who had bargained for more than she could handle . was literally given to his dad after turning two and has never seen his “surrogate” ever since .

his dad was just turning his life around for the better . got out of the game and got a real job working for his uncle’s mechanic shop . this was where his father would meet his now step - mother, or his real mom as far as he’s concerned .

had two twin siblings three years later and would snap necks if something happened to them .

was a child who possessed an idgaf attitude at a young age . he was quite the little shit , tbh . always taking things without asking , breaking something and hiding it , throwing rocks at the neighbor’s kids . quite an interesting asshole .

maybe it was because he stayed up night and watched programs he shouldn’t have . and porn but HEY .

this carried on into his childhood days , which caused a lot of fucking trouble . he practically lived in the principal’s office at school by this time .

arthur didn’t care . and it’s all because of the followers he gained .

known the “arthur the asshole” among students , and some teachers , this was when he started loving attention . he was needy for it , would literally die without it .

even much so , he noticed that some teachers would actually feel sorry for him , thinking something is going on at home . which brings up into how he was sent to live with his uncle on his step - mother’s side .

arthur thought it would be funny if he came to school one day looking like he was almost road kill and blamed it on his family . it gained him attention , but not the kind he was used to . the school immediately contacted cps . this stunt nearly cost him his sisters , and that was when he quickly admitted to hurting himself . dad wasn’t happy , step - mom felt bad but thought that he just needed to get away for a while .

a while turned into years .

as a teenager , he grew quite the reputation . fuckboy and liar . how pretty .

schmoozed his way into anyone’s hearts then proceeded to break them bc that’s the tREnD , riGHt ?????

honestly this all started when he was used as a bet for a football player to make a “gay” come out .

he knew he was bi-sexual so this was just the icing on the cake . they dated undercover for five months , which led to him losing his virginity to this guy . the outcome ? having a video of him giving the guy a bj displayed during a prep - ralley .

his response ? “this just proves that i can take your boyfriends , ladies ! might wanna watch keep an eye on him before i change his life” and a fUCKING WINK .

literally fought his ex that same night on the football field and won . he punched until he saw red . then proceeded to cry in the school’s pool area afterward .

the kid’s just dsyfunctional . doesn’t know what to do especially now that his uncle is a drug addict .

came to the conclusion one night after smoking for the first time with the old man across the street that he was gonna do something that would make him proud .

turns out being a male stripper was harder than he thought so ig college will do for now .

the old man across the street soon became his second father and helped pay for his tuition . actually got a scholarship for being left - handed but was right so WHOOPIE .

went to nyu so he would still be somewhat close to the elder . contacts him anyway possible .

his freshman year was a breeze . he stayed to himself , got his work done . was all about making himself & the ones he loved proud his first semester . it was second semester that was just ... wOw .

the partying scene consumed him . it was his literal aesthetic . empty beer cans in the morning , the pain from the sun blinding your eyes , the intense head - pounding from drinking . he BREATHED that shit .

became well - known on campus after diving into the crowd from the upstairs balcony of a party . the guy’s fun to be around .

was offered to join the zetas but kindly refused since he hated how they acted . SHOCKING

after becoming a party animal , he went on to being the heart - breaker as well . this was actually on accident , i swear . the boy has the mindset that nothing good ever stays and that you can’t trust no one . he broke up some really long - lasting relationships because of this . even platonic ships didn’t last long .

now in his junior year , arthur’s starting to see that life doesn’t fucking matter LMAO .

like in a “if you’re going to fuck up, fuck up all the way.” type shit

in conclusion : arthur is the human definition of trying but also the definition of damaged .

FUN FACTS !!!!!!

my favorite fact about him : he joined lambda sigma omega bc he fucking hates zetas . the parties are nice , yes , but fuck those guys .

when he first heard about the frat opening he laughed bc why the hell would these idiots want to piss off two HIGHLY liked greek houses ? then realized “... that’s literally what i do” so into lambda it is ! was gonna be vice president bc why the fuck not but didn’t want to risk fucking up a freshman’s life so he stuck with just being a pledge .

honestly ?? just wants to shut up the zetas soon . give them a taste of their own medicine .

can be noticed on campus rocking a black hoodie and black nail polish .

never spoke to his twin sisters since leaving but does write them letters even though he hates it .

lowkey cries in his sleep but shush .

aquarius in sun , moon in libra .

joined the baseball team as well as the campus radio station and theatre club .

if you can approach him when he’s sober you’re braver than the marines .

kinda cocky , a little bit conceited but it’s only because he’s tired of feeling hated by everything so he just .. hates himself so it’s easier ??? if that’s a way to describe it .

#violet:intro #onCE AGAIN #i hate human interaction #but yEEH

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hmhteen · 6 years

Text

Cover (Re)reveal + HMH Teen Teaser: YOU OWE ME A MURDER by Eileen Cook!

Thrillers are the best at providing twisty endings you never saw coming...so it makes sense that YOU OWE ME A MURDER would start thrilling readers with a cover switcheroo! That’s right, this YA perfect for fans of GENUINE FRAUD and ONE OF US IS LYING has a new cover.

And here’s a plot twist: in addition to sharing the cover below, we’re sharing an excerpt, too.

***

ONE

AUGUST 15

16 DAYS REMAINING

I plotted murder in the Vancouver airport while waiting at gate D78 for my flight to London.

Based on the expressions of the people around me, I wasn’t the only one thinking of how to do someone in. Our flight was delayed and everyone was irritated and restless. The couple at the end of the row were fighting about which one of them had forgotten to lock the bedroom window before they left. Then there were at least a half-dozen people wanting to take out the toddler wearing the SpongeBob T-shirt, who vacillated between shrieking at a decibel normally used to torture dogs and running around slamming into everyone with his grimy hands.

The old guy across from me snarled, baring his yellowed teeth, every time the kid whirled in his direction. You’d think that would freak the toddler out, but it didn’t seem to make any impact. Maybe the little boy got his ability to ignore unpleasant things from his mom. She stared down at an issue of People magazine, her lips moving as she read, completely ignoring the fact that people in the gate area wanted to club her kid with their roller bags. The only way you knew it was her child was that when he would slam into her, she’d hold out a limp plastic baggie filled with rainbow-colored gummy worms and then drop one into his clutching hand. She was like an apathetic mama bird.

I tilted my head to the side to crack the tension in my neck. I wished I could block things out that well. Instead I found myself continually looking over at Connor. My back teeth clenched, tight enough to crack. Miriam was perched on his lap. I told myself to stop staring, but my attention kept being pulled back. He slid his hand under her shirt and rubbed her back in tight circles. I knew that move. He’d done that to me.

Before he’d dumped me.

Miriam ruffled his hair. He couldn’t stand it when I’d done that. He’d push my hand away or duck out of my reach. Connor had gone deaf after a bout of chicken pox as a kid and had cochlear implants so he could hear. He wore his hair a bit shaggy because he didn’t like to draw attention to the proces- sor behind his ears. I’d found it fascinating. Not just because it’s a pretty cool piece of tech, but also because I wanted to know how he felt going from a silent world to being able to hear. But he didn’t like to talk about it, or for me to touch his hair.

Apparently, he didn’t have the same hang-up with Miriam. I reminded myself that I didn’t care. Connor meant nothing to me now. I swallowed hard.

Toddler SpongeBob slammed into me. His sticky fingers, streaked red and blue from the candy, clutched my jeans. He stared up at me with his watery eyes and then, without look- ing away, slowly lowered his drooling, slobbery mouth to my knee and bit me.

“Hey!” I shoved him hard without thinking. He teetered for a moment and then fell onto his giant padded diaper butt, letting out a cry. I glanced around guiltily, shame landing on my chest with a thud. His mother didn’t even look over. The old man gave me a thumbs-up gesture. Great — that’s me, Kim, the kind of person who beats up preschoolers when she’s not stalking her ex-boyfriend. I crouched down to help the kid up, but he pushed me away and returned to running wildly up and down the aisle.

I peered down at my phone, wishing I could call my best friend, Emily. She always knew how to cheer me up. She was spending the entire summer working at a camp on the far side of Vancouver Island. She didn’t have any cell service or WiFi, so there was going to be no quick “everything will be fine” text or call. Granted, if I’d been able to reach her earlier in the sum- mer, I might not even have been in this situation at all. Com- municating old school — by letters — might be vintage and nostalgic, but it does you no good when you have an emotional disaster that needs immediate BFF interaction.

We’d been friends since elementary school and this was the longest I’d ever gone without talking to her. So far, my summer was proof positive that I shouldn’t be allowed to handle things on my own. I fished the last card she’d sent me out of my bag. Inside she’d scribbled, “I know you can do this! Your trip’s going to be amazing!!” Emily never met an exclamation point that she didn’t like. Despite the positive punctuation, I was pretty sure she was wrong on both counts. I felt far from capable, and although the flight hadn’t even left, I already hated everything about this trip.

I took a deep breath, counting in for three and then letting it whoosh out. I can do this. I wasn’t going to let Emily and my parents down.

A few rows over, Miriam laughed, tossing her head back as if Connor had just told the best joke of all time. She playfully punched him in the chest with her tiny little hand. Everything about her was miniaturized. She told everyone she was five feet tall, but she was four eleven at best. She looked ridiculous when she stood next to Connor. He could have put her into his backpack and carried her around like a Chihuahua.

I had to admit Miriam was pretty, other than being freakishly petite. She had long dark hair that could have starred in a shampoo commercial. Her only flaw was that she wore too much eyeliner. She was addicted to the cat’s-eye look, accentuating the slant of her eyes. She had a flair for drama; she always made huge gestures, sweeping her arms around, flicking her hair over a shoulder, or talking loudly as if she was constantly trying to make sure everyone could hear her. She was in the theater crowd, so maybe she couldn’t help herself.

I never would have guessed Connor would date someone like her: showy. I thought he’d enjoyed that we didn’t always have to be talking, but if we did, it was about important stuff: Philosophy. Science. Politics. We met once at the coffee shop in the morning before work and split up the Globe and Mail, silently passing the newspaper sections back and forth. He was the only other person I knew besides me who liked to read an actual paper. I’d caught our reflection in the window and thought we looked like adults. Like people who lived in New York or Toronto, with important jobs, a fancy high-rise apart- ment with lots of glass and chrome, and a membership to the local art museum.

Miriam had no volume control, but she wasn’t stupid. I didn’t know her well — she hung with the drama crowd — but I wouldn’t have thought Connor was her type. I would have seen her liking a guy with an earring and some kind of social justice agenda. She wasn’t in the hard sciences but still took a bunch of AP courses. She’d written some paper on Shakespeare that won a national award for English geeks. No wonder I wanted to kill her.

I sighed. I didn’t want to kill her, I wanted to be her. Miriam hadn’t stolen Connor. Someone can’t steal what you don’t have. He didn’t dump me because he’d fallen for her. What had happened between us was complicated. More complicated than I even wanted to admit. He had his own reasons for stomping on my heart. If I was going to take anyone out, it should be him. But no matter whom I blamed, it didn’t change the fact that I wasn’t looking forward to spending the next few weeks watching the two of them make out in front of me. I shook my head to clear it. As everyone kept reminding me, it would be for only sixteen days.

I closed my eyes so I didn’t have to see them, but I could still hear Miriam. Her drama teacher should be proud of how well Miriam’s voice carried. She was four feet eleven of all lungs. Her voice filled the entire gate area and spread down the hall like toxic lava. I could tell already that the sound would be like fingernails on a chalkboard by the end of the trip.

The worst part was that I’d pleaded to go. I told my parents if they let me attend, they’d never have to get me another gift. Once Connor had announced he was going — before we’d broken up — I’d been instantly consumed with images of the two of us walking hand in hand through narrow cobblestone streets. The program was advertised as if it were a great edu- cational opportunity, but the truth was, there weren’t any real demands. We’d be “exposed” to culture, as though it were a cold we could catch. I didn’t really care about the chance to travel, or what I might learn from the sights of London; what mattered was going with him. I didn’t want him to be away for almost three weeks, doing all these things without me. I loved the idea of starting school in September with the two of us chatting constantly about “remember the time we were in London?” until everyone around us was annoyed.

In retrospect, I know he wanted to come because he didn’t think I was going. He signed up without talking it over, telling me only after it was a done deal. I pleaded with my parents for days, never admitting that I wanted to go because of Connor and instead laying it on thick how it was a great way to expand my horizons, how amazing it would look on my university apps, and how I’d suddenly developed a fascination with British history, until they gave in.

Then, after things with Connor blew up in my face, I’d begged my parents to let me bail, but they wouldn’t budge. They insisted it wasn’t the deposit, it was the point. My dad called it a chance for me to “build character.” As far as he was concerned, Connor had never been worth my time. He made a snide comment about Connor’s overbite, which, coming from a dentist, was some serious trash talk.

My mom had made a dismissive sniff and told me “he’s not worth bothering over.” She acted as though she didn’t like him, but when I’d first told her about Connor, she’d been as excited as me. He was exactly the kind of boy she would have liked at my age, and the exact kind of boy she assumed would never know her awkward daughter even existed. She looked at me differently, as if her ugly duckling had finally hit possible swan status. We went shopping together and got matching hot pink mani-pedis. We’d never gotten along as well as we had for those few weeks.

Then when things went bad with him, my mom acted as if she were the one who’d been humiliated. She might have said she wanted me to go on the trip because it was a chance to travel, but she also wanted me to be the kind of person who held her head high to handle the situation the way she would have done. And I wanted to be that person too — the kind who would have a fantastic time regardless of a breakup and, by the end of the trip, see Connor desperately sorry he’d broken up with me. All while making a pack of new friends.

However, if I was going to go full fantasy, I might as well add in that the queen would invite me to the palace, and Will and Kate would ask me to baby-sit, and Harry and Meghan would offer to hook me up with some minor count or a duke. The truth was, the next few weeks were going to suck.

And I was going to be stuck strapped in directly behind the lovebirds for the entire flight, watching them crawl all over each other in the tiny coach seats. I squeezed my eyes shut as if I could block out the mental image playing on the big screen of my mind. I’d told myself a thousand times since we’d all checked in and I’d heard our seating assignments that I could handle this, but with every second that went by, it was becoming increasingly clear to me that I wouldn’t make it. I’d snap somewhere thirty-three thousand feet up and beat the two of them over the head with the in-flight magazine.

Or start crying again. I wasn’t sure which would be worse. You would think there was only so much crying a person could do before she got completely dehydrated. I’d told myself I couldn’t stand him anymore, so why did my heart still seize and my throat grow tight every time he was around?

I stood up so suddenly that my bag fell to the floor. I snatched it up and strode over to the airline counter. The gate agent didn’t look up. She was too preoccupied typing into her computer. Her fingernails, which had a thick layer of bright red gel polish, made a strange clacking sound on the keys. I cleared my throat, but she still didn’t stop.

“Excuse me,” I managed to get out before she held up a fin- ger to silence me.

She finally finished whatever she was doing and glanced up. “If you’re asking about the delay, I don’t have any more information. As soon as we get clearance, we’ll start boarding.” There was makeup creased on her forehead and I suspected she was on her last nerve. She was a walking reminder to never go into a customer service occupation.

I leaned forward even though logically I knew Connor couldn’t hear me from where he was sitting. “I wondered if I could change my seat?”

She scrunched up her face. “I don’t think —”

“See the guy back there?” I yanked my head in Connor’s direction. “That’s my ex-boyfriend. We’re going to England on a travel program. I’m supposed to sit right behind him.” I paused. “For nine hours.”

Her perfectly arched eyebrows shot up to her hairline and she looked over my shoulder.

I sensed I was getting somewhere. “He was my first boyfriend.” My voice cracked and I had to swallow over and over to keep control. “He dumped me just a couple weeks ago.”

Her eyes softened, but she shook her head. “I’m sorry, but

I can’t —”

“That’s his new girlfriend. She used to be my best friend.” The gate agent sucked in a breath and looked over at Connor as though he were something she’d scraped off her shoe.

I felt bad as soon as the words were out of my mouth. Mir- iam and I had never even hung out before this trip, let alone been friends, but I needed the agent to help me. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

I don’t lie to hurt people, or to pull something over on them, but I guess sometimes I . . . make up stories to make myself more interesting. As long as I can remember, I’ve done it. On the playground in elementary school, I told the other kids that fairies lived in my backyard. In junior high I let everyone think I’d been adopted. I didn’t want to lie. I wanted to be normal and interesting, but I wasn’t.

I hadn’t lied with Connor. With him I’d been one hun- dred percent honest about my feelings, and look how that had turned out.

The agent clacked away on the computer. “Your name?”

“Kim, Kim Maher.” I spelled my last name.

“I need your old boarding pass.” I slid the limp piece of paper across the counter. She tore it in half as the machine spat out a new one. She passed it over to me with a wink. “He doesn’t deserve you. Have a good trip.”

The tight band around my chest loosened. “Thanks.”

I wove through the crowd clustered around the gate and plopped back down in my seat. I pushed the New York Times I’d already read out of the way and pulled out the magazine I’d brought. I hid between the pages, blinking back tears. The gate agent was right. Connor didn’t deserve me. It was the same thing Emily told me. But even if I knew it was true, it didn’t hurt any less. All I had to do was figure out how to get my heart to catch up to the fact that my head didn’t like him anymore.

A girl slid a few seats over to be next to me. “Did she say anything about the delay?” Her English accent made me feel as if I’d dropped onto the set of a BBC historical drama.

I shook my head and quickly wiped my eyes so she wouldn’t notice the tears. “No news.”

The girl sighed. She pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. She tugged the thin cream cashmere sweater sleeves over her hands. She glanced down at the stack of paper on the chair next to me. “Your Times?”

I nodded.

“Did you read the article about the changes to the space program? I saw it earlier this morning.”

I jumped slightly in surprise. She seemed like someone who would spot a copy of InStyle at a hundred meters but wouldn’t know a shuttle from a rocket if she were whacked across the face with one of them. “Uh-huh.” I picked up the paper, look- ing for the Science section.

“I think that’s what I like about a real paper,” she said. “It’s like a knowledge Easter egg hunt. You never know what you’re going to find.”

I nodded like a bobble-head doll. That was exactly why I

loved reading a paper too. “Yeah. Are you into space stuff?” She shrugged. “Just find it interesting.”

I held out my hand. “I’m Kim.”

“Nicki.” She smiled as we shook. “How come you aren’t hanging with the rest of your group?” She motioned to a cou- ple rows over. There were eight of us on the trip and we were all on this flight. A few had busted out cards to play a game on the blue carpeted floor, and the others were clustered around Jamal’s laptop checking out his music.

“How did you know —” I got out before she flicked the blue

and white student scholars for change tag attached to carryon. I’d forgotten I was branded. “Ah. I’m not really friends with any of them. There are just three of us from my high school. It’s complicated,” I said.

Nicki nodded. “Story of my life. I was here visiting my dad, and the reason he lives here, instead of in London with me and my mum, is all sorts of complicated too.”

Nicki tucked her hair behind her ears. Her bob wasn’t quite long enough, so as soon as she did, the hair fell free and swung forward again. “Sorry, that came out a bit pissy. I just find other people . . . ugh. I don’t know. Disappointing.” She shoved her hair back again.

“Story of my life,” I said, echoing her words. She laughed and it reminded me of scales on a piano.

Nicki tapped the robotics magazine on my lap. “You plan on going into robotics at uni?”

I shook my head. “Not sure. I’m leaning toward engineer- ing, maybe computers.”

She waited until an announcement about a flight to Phoe- nix stopped blaring on the PA. “I’m thinking psychology. I’m interested in research. This is my gap year.” She watched the unsupervised toddler fish a booger out of his nose and rub it into his hair.

“What kind of research?”

“Human behavior. I don’t have any interest in being a coun- selor. People blathering about their problems all day would drive me barmy. But I’m intrigued with why people do what they do, why they don’t do some things, what they could accomplish, that kind of thing.”

I traced the pattern in the carpet with my shoe. Under- standing other people was one of the great mysteries in my life. “If you ever figure people out, you’ll have to let me know what you discover. Math I can make sense of, but people are more confusing than quantum physics. Give me a robot any day.”

She laughed. “Don’t give up on humanity just yet. Maybe

you haven’t met anyone worth figuring out.”

The overhead speaker chirped to life. “Attention: Passen- gers on Air Canada flight 854 to London. Due to aircraft main- tenance issues, this flight will be further delayed. We apologize for the inconvenience.” The crowd groaned. The screen over our gate flickered and a new departure time, three hours from now, blinked on.

Connor stood and stretched. “Who wants to find a place to

watch the Whitecaps game?”

Our group began to gather up their stuff. He was like the pied piper of nerdy people. Everyone was willing to follow him. Miriam walked over toward me.

“Do you want to come?” she offered. Her legs were so small that her size extra small leggings were baggy around her thighs. She must buy her clothing in a kids’ department.

“No thanks,” I managed to say, willing her to walk away. Or

she could disappear completely — I was open to that, too.

“You can’t want to just hang around here for the next three hours.” Miriam nudged my tote with her foot. “C’mon, we’ll all get some fries or something. It’ll be fun.”

Fun wasn’t even in the top ten words that I would think of to describe the situation. “I’m fine,” I insisted. It was bad enough that Connor wanted nothing to do with me. It was worse that he started dating someone else right away. It was a nightmare that I was stuck on this trip with them. But her being nice to me was a layer of shit icing on this crap cupcake. I didn’t even know how much Connor had told her about what had happened between the two of us. I wasn’t sure what I preferred: that she knew and felt pity for me, or that he hadn’t told her anything because he didn’t think I was worth mentioning. I slouched lower in the seat.

“Leave it — she doesn’t want to come. Trust me, no one will miss her with that attitude.” Connor strode over and took Mir- iam’s hand without even glancing at me.

I flushed. He was right. I was a walking black cloud of doom. I hadn’t bothered to get to know anyone else coming on the trip and now I was going to be miserable and alone.

“Gawd, he’s a tosser,” Nicki said, loud enough to carry.

I wasn’t entirely certain what it meant, but it sounded both hysterical and insulting. I burst out laughing.

Connor and Miriam walked off down the hall, the rest of the group following behind them. He glanced over his shoulder at us, and when he saw we were still staring, he whirled back around.

My chest filled with air. I felt like one of those large balloons at a parade — ready to float away. “I don’t know what you said, but you’re my new favorite person on this planet,” I said. I meant it, too. My BFF couldn’t be reached except by letter. Emily might as well have been in space for all the help she could give me.

“That guy is a loser.” Nicki pulled me from my seat. “I can tell, because as we’ve already established, I study people. You can pay me back for correctly identifying him as a wanker by keeping me entertained for the next few hours.”

“How would you like me to do that?”

Nicki’s smile spread across her face. “We’re smart women, we’ll think of something.”

TWO

AUGUST 15

Nicki stopped short outside the duty-free store, causing me to nearly slam into her back. She seemed entranced by the bright lights bouncing off a display of jewel-colored perfume bottles.

“Let’s go in here,” she said.

“They won’t have gum,” I noted. “There’s another store down just a bit further.” I pointed, but she’d already started to weave her way through the aisles. She randomly picked up items: a stuffed bear holding a satin heart, a giant Toblerone bar, and a box of washed-out pastel-colored saltwater taffy. She inspected each one as if she worked for quality control and then put each back down. I trailed after her.

My mouth still burned from the jalapeños I’d had at lunch. Nicki claimed the best thing to eat before a big flight was huevos rancheros. She insisted the combination of protein from the eggs and cheese, along with the spice from the salsa, would ensure a good sleep on the plane. When I pointed out the entrée wasn’t on the menu, she’d raised one perfectly tweezed eyebrow. “Ordering off the menu is for the common person,” she’d declared. When the waiter came over, she turned on the charm, and before I’d known what was happening, he dropped off two custom plates just for us. And she was right — the huge meal made me want a nap.

Nicki grabbed a stuffed zebra and gave it a squeeze. “Things like this make me wish I had a kid brother or sister. Let me guess, you’re an only child too.”

My mouth fell open. “How did you —”

“Only children are different. They have to amuse them- selves growing up. They’re independent, better problem solvers. There’s tons of research on it. I could tell by the way you’ve been talking. You’re just like me.”

Technically, I wasn’t just like her. I never knew what to say when people asked if I had any siblings. “About a half-dozen fully frozen” seemed too flip and required an explanation. Saying I was an only child felt like lying about the existence of my parents’ cryogenically suspended embryos. They were my brothers and sisters, just in cold storage in a medical lab.

My parents hadn’t had an easy time getting pregnant. Thanks to the fact that my mom was an early blogger, the whole world knew about their struggles. Then after three rounds of IVF, I took. My mom called me MBK on her blog — Miracle Baby Kim. She said she used the initials to protect my privacy, but how private could my life be when she plastered every one of my development milestones in cyberspace for the whole world to see?

Somewhere on the Internet there’s a picture of me as a three-year-old, wearing a tiara and giant pink fuzzy slippers, sitting on the toilet with the caption “MBK Finally Masters Potty Training!” The “finally” is a nice touch; nothing I like bet- ter than people thinking I was delayed in the hygiene depart- ment. My mom’s name was all over her blog; it didn’t exactly take a Mensa-level IQ to figure out that I was MBK. The truth was, she didn’t care how I felt about the blog. What she cared about were all the people who read it and gave her nonstop “you’re the best mom ever” feedback.

The year I turned ten, my mom wrote a long blog post where she announced to her legions of fans that she and my dad were officially giving up their efforts to have more children. They couldn’t keep up the nonstop cycles of IVF. It seemed Mother Nature didn’t have it in the plans for my mom to be the mother she wanted to be, with a minivan and the ability to construct something out of Legos while simultaneously preparing an organic dinner for her large happy family. And while she wanted to focus on her blessing (Beautiful MBK!), she could still grieve for what could have been and she would always see those frozen embryos as her babies. The Huffington Post picked up that blog post and ran it on their site. It’s one of their most downloaded pieces. They rerun it on Mother’s Day most years.

It was around that time that I started to become aware that I was a disappointment to my mom. When she’d imag- ined having children, none of them were like me. She wanted a daughter who liked to play with dolls and whom she’d punish with a wag of her finger, all while smiling at how adorable it was that I stole her makeup. My desire for tangle-free short hair and passion for books and blanket forts befuddled her. Why didn’t I want to skip rope outside with the other girls? Why didn’t I let her braid my hair into complicated patterns befitting a Disney princess? Why wasn’t I similar to her at all? How could she be a mothering expert when her own kid was so . . . awkward?

My mom was one of the first mommy bloggers. Thousands of people still read her site daily. They comment on her reci- pes (Super YUM Crock-Pot Meals!) and reviews of baby items (Bugaboo Strollers Worth Every Penny!). She’s blogged about how motherhood is hard and disappointing, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t worth it. I can’t be the only one who realizes that she’s trying to talk herself into that fact. I believe that my mom loves me, I just don’t think she likes me. If she’d had more kids, maybe it would have made a difference. I guess neither of us will ever know.

Nicki sniffed a bottle of Burberry Brit perfume and then spritzed a tiny bit on her wrist. She held out her arm for me and I leaned in.

“Nice,” I said, but she’d already moved on to the next display.

She stared up at the tower of Grey Goose vodka. “Want some for the flight?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t think even you can talk this place into selling us booze.”

Nicki winked and I noticed she was wearing a hint of a shimmery eye shadow. “Who says they’re going to sell it?”

My heart picked up speed. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure we were alone. “You’re going to steal it?” I asked, lowering my voice. My heart rabbited into overdrive.

“No, we’re going to steal it,” she said, her light brown eyes sparkling. “No one ever suspects the nicely dressed girl with a British accent. They think I’m too posh to sink to thievery.”

A swarm of spastic butterflies tried to take flight inside my lungs. I was pretty sure I didn’t look too posh to be arrested. “I don’t know . . .”

“Up to you.”

The chatter from the two clerks at the front of the store as they debated the merits of Ryan Reynolds seemed unnaturally loud to my ears. I bit the inside of my cheek. “What happens if we get caught?”

Nicki’s lips curled up, Grinch-like. “Bad things. That’s why we’ll do it so we don’t get caught.” Her head tilted slightly toward the bottles of booze. “They haven’t put on the plastic antitheft devices yet, and I don’t see any cameras.”

She was right. Every other bottle in the store had a black plastic disk attached around the neck, but the display of Grey Goose was naked. I could almost hear the angel and devil perched on my shoulders. One advising me to do the right thing and go on to the next store and buy a pack of Trident like a good girl, and the other telling me that it wouldn’t kill me to take a risk now and then. Where had playing it safe gotten me? I wanted to be someone else, anyone else. Maybe if I wanted to change the course of my life I needed to change the things I did. Be someone who did daring things, like Nicki.

“What do we do?” I whispered.

Nicki poked my leather tote bag. “When it’s time, grab the closest bottle and drop it in.”

“How will I know it’s time?”

She tapped me on the nose. “You’ll know because you’re smart.” She turned back to the perfume display and grabbed a small bottle. “I’m going to check the price — my mom loves this stuff.” She’d taken only a few steps when her foot hooked into the handles of a brightly colored canvas bag stamped with a maple leaf and the words canada forever, sitting on the floor among other similar bags.

I opened my mouth to warn her, but she’d already jerked forward with a loud oomph. Her arms flew up as she fell and the bottle of perfume collided with the ground with a brittle smash. A cloud of a citrus and musk scent filled the air. The clerks flew to her side.

I was about to do the same when I realized this was it. My hand jerked out as if it were under the authority of another force and yanked a bottle of vodka off the display, plopping it into my tote. I jammed my elbow over the top of the bag to pinch it shut and hustled to where Nicki was now standing between the two clerks. My heart beat out of control.

“Are you okay?” I asked, surprised that my voice didn’t crack with the electric tension filling every inch of my body, zapping down my nerves, lighting me up from the inside.

“I’m okay. I think.” Nicki looked down at the broken glass on the floor and her eyes widened. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“You’ll have to pay for the perfume.” The tall clerk pointed to a you break it, you buy it sign by the entrance.

Nicki drew herself even straighter. “But I wasn’t being careless. I tripped on your bags, which were all over the floor.” The mouth on the tall clerk pressed into a tight line, like a slash across her face. “If you don’t pay for it, we have to call a manager.”

Panic flashed like a bright white light. I had to do something. I kicked the canvas bags now strewn across the floor. “You should call a supervisor. Maybe if you hadn’t been so busy talking, and instead had straightened up this mess, it wouldn’t have happened at all. You know, if she’s hurt, you’re liable. My dad’s a lawyer — he deals with this stuff all the time.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to swallow them back down. I hoped I was right. My dad was a dentist. Any legal knowledge I had was from watching The People’s Court when I stayed home sick from school. What had I done?

Nicki’s lip twitched. “Now that I think about it, my back is quite sore. I hit the floor pretty hard.” She rubbed the base of her spine.

The tall clerk looked ready to clobber Nicki, but the shorter woman with her hair tied up in a mountain of tiny braids put her hand lightly on the arm of the other. “We’re certainly sorry you fell.”

Nicki met her gaze. “And I’m sorry that the bottle broke.” The short clerk smiled, her white teeth as bright as the wall

tiles. “Well then, why don’t we just decide that no harm’s been done?” The tension that had been coiling inside me released.

“Are you sure?” Nicki asked. Her eyes were so wide, she looked like an anime character. When the clerk nodded, Nicki reached for me. “We should get back; our flight will be leaving soon.”

I nodded solemnly as if I were very concerned about time- liness. Every muscle in my body clenched as I walked over the threshold, anticipating a piercing alarm going off, but nothing happened. Nicki gripped my elbow. “Don’t look back. Only guilty people look behind them.”

My neck stiffened and I kept moving forward down the hall. The adrenaline that had rushed through my system seconds ago was now bailing ship and I felt lightheaded. My bag weighed a hundred pounds. I half expected every person we passed to develop x-ray vision, see through my tote, and point me out as a shoplifter. Nicki seemed to sense I was barely hold- ing it together, and she pulled me along until we reached an empty gate area. We both started giggling as we dropped into a row of seats.

“I can’t believe I did that,” I said. I opened the bag expecting the vodka to be missing, a figment of my imagination, but the bottle was there. I glanced quickly at Nicki to see if she was impressed that I’d actually done it.

“Since we’re headed to England it would have been more fitting to have nicked some gin, but a girl has to work with the opportunities she’s got.” Nicki patted the side of my leather bag. “You were perfect. When you said that line about how I could sue them, I wanted to cheer.”

I shook my head. “Are you kidding? As soon as I took the bottle, all I wanted to do was run for it. I felt like I was going to freak out at any moment.”

She laughed. “But you didn’t. Being good at something doesn’t mean that it isn’t hard or scary — it just means that you keep moving forward when other people quit.”

I laughed. “I tend to be a quitter. I’m scared of everything.” “Like what?”

I rolled my eyes. “I could make a list a mile long. For start- ers, I’m terrified of heights. I won’t even go to my grandparents’ new condo in Miami because they live on the twentieth floor. Usually when things scare me, I’m the first one to bail. I won’t go skiing, kayaking, or anyplace that looks like it will have spiders, and I get hives when I have to go to the dentist and my dad’s a dentist.”

Nicki wrinkled up her nose. “Now, I get the dentist phobia, but heights? If you’re going to be scared, be scared of something good.” She laughed. “You were scared to take the liquor, but you did it. That’s the difference between ordinary people and extraordinary. Extraordinary people might be afraid, but they do it anyway.”

My chin lifted slightly in the air. The shame over stealing was mixed up with pride in doing something risky. I wanted to brag about what I’d done and apologize all at the same time. Most of all I wanted her to keep talking. “I still can’t believe I did that,” I said. I wanted her to understand I wasn’t some- one who did things like this. Heck, I wasn’t someone who did things at all, but maybe it was as simple as deciding that I didn’t want to be that person anymore.

Nicki threw an arm around me and gave me a half hug. “Think about it. I wonder what you might do if you let yourself really go? You know, every accomplishment starts with the decision to try. And then keep trying, even when it’s hard.” She smirked. “And of course, if life gives you an opportunity, take it before it disappears. Or at least before they put the antitheft device on it.”

I packed up what she said and placed it carefully into my memory. It struck me that her advice was important. Not because I wanted to become a master criminal — I felt bad about taking the booze and couldn’t imagine doing it again. But . . . I liked that I’d done it at least once. Been like Nicki. Daring. Not afraid. She seemed to have figured out the secret to life. All the brochures for the Student Scholars program had stressed how travel made a person grow. I’d secretly thought it was a bunch of marketing bullshit. How could a change in geography make a difference? But maybe it was possible: I could evolve into someone else. I could almost picture my mom’s approval . . . and the blog post she’d write about it.

The public-address system squawked and announced that our flight would start boarding. I couldn’t believe how the three hours had flown by. I pulled the bottle slightly out of the bag. “Do you want this?”

“You keep it. I don’t know the whole story with the guy and girl back at the gate, but I suspect you need it more than me.” She pushed herself up from the seat with a ladylike grunt. “We should get going. I still want to get that gum.”

I reached for her arm before she started to walk away. “Thanks. I was feeling really down before.”

“That’s what friends are for!” She poked me in the side as if I were being silly.

“Well, I appreciate you making me a friend after only a few hours.”

Nicki smiled. “Don’t you know? I decided we were friends the instant we met.”

***

YOU OWE ME A MURDER will be available on 3.12.19! Pre-order from any of the links below.

Amazon

B&N

IndieBound

Apple Books

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