#was in high school in the early 00's

[iloveannaliese]

｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡

[tommykinard6]

Should I be eating and resting? Yes. Am I? No, so come join me for a dissertation on Tommy Kinard being lonely.

Edit to add a note since I saw a reblog about it: Tommy has no canonical age right now and Lou is 39, 40 later this year, so that is my basis for saying he’s 39.

Now when I say lonely, I don’t mean that he has no one whatsoever. I can picture him going for drinks with his team or having some Muay Thai buddies that he could call up if he really was inclined. Maybe an old army buddy or two.

But there’s something about Tommy that’s just achingly lonely, both when he was at the 118 and now at Harbor.

Tommy had a broken home, or some other kind of unstable childhood. Maybe his parents split, maybe he was mistreated, maybe he was in the system or was passed around family members. Maybe he was isolated as a child because he was a little overweight (I think Lou said something along those lines) and was bullied. I think Tommy didn’t really have any friends until high school, when puberty hit and maybe he started working out and probably joined the football team. I don’t know if anyone remembers what teenage boys are like, but I can imagine they were the same as they are today back in the 90s/early 00’s. Because around this time, Tommy might’ve started to realize that something was very different about him.

Now this isn’t a meta about how I think Tommy dealt with his sexuality (maybe I’ll do one of those later) but I think he never would’ve risked his football friends knowing even if he himself could acknowledge it, which I doubt. So he messed around, got in trouble with these guys, hung out with the bros, and pretended to be interested in girl talk.

Of course, eventually, his buddies all got girlfriends and he was always the odd one out again.

He didn’t do college. The army was his next step. And I feel like this might have been the first time in his life he wasn’t lonely. He’d learned to blend in by this point and he worked with some great people. But as he started making real friends for the first time, he also started losing them as the war tore them away.

Tommy left the army and joined the fire department. There was an aching hole where the camaraderie of the army had filled previously and with no education beyond a high school diploma, Tommy thought the fire department would replicate that. Not the police though. He’d had enough of guns.

(And ohhhh now so many ideas on his thoughts during the sniper)

But he ended up at the 118 and quickly realized that his team had maybe more of a DADT stance than the army. He realized that he had to put on an elaborate act to fool his fellow firefighters, who had more time on their hands and more prejudice they were willing to wield to pick apart his life. Tommy, who maybe had only just started to acknowledge he felt differently about guys with less panic than before, had no choice but to backslide. He acted and acted and crafted a person he wasn’t until the day that maybe he was. Sal was his closest buddy at the 118 and Tommy had no doubt that Sal would be one of the first to make his life hell. Gerrard seemed to look at Tommy as some sort of mentee. Boxed in by two notorious bigots, Tommy had never felt more claustrophobically alone.

Chim was the first one to reach out a hand of friendship, or at least the first one that didn’t come with caution tape, but he was also an “other” and Tommy, who was confused and afraid and had just had his captain call his bluff on his fake girlfriend, lashed out. Then he allowed Chim in and Chim wasn’t interested in being besties but he was a great drinking buddy and movie buddy and Tommy felt safest around him.

Then Hen came and Tommy watched her get the same treatment he was afraid of. Not that he had to worry about the racism, and he was aware of the privilege, but Hen didn’t exactly hide herself and he watched them bully his lesbian coworker. He let himself get pulled into it all and hated himself for it, but was too cowardly to break away from it. He wasn’t sure why Hen had forgiven him, but she became the only other person on shift he felt even a little safe around other than Howie. But then Chimney and Hen became best friends and Tommy fell to the wayside. They still included him, sure, but they were always a pair and there was something there that Tommy didn’t know but longed for. A closeness he’d never felt.

A best friend. A juvenile idea to him, but one he’d never truly had.

Then Gerrard was gone and Sal got transferred and the 118 moved forward under Captain Nash, but Tommy felt left behind, even in what was the most united A shift team yet. Because he was over 30 and was starting to be unable to ignore everything that he’d had to hide under Gerrard, as he no longer had a distraction from it.

He’d been a pilot in the army, so he transferred to Harbor. And Harbor was great. He wasn’t best buds with anyone (he was starting to think that was never in the cards for him) but his team didn’t carry the same baggage that the 118 had.

So Tommy started to come to terms with himself. He started to date for the first time and came out to his team. And he had several boyfriends, but most couldn’t handle the job or his baggage or the desperate need he had to be wanted. His most long term partner cheated and the one he fell hardest for couldn’t deal when Tommy was injured on the job. Even within his own relationships, he felt like he was destined to stand alone.

Tommy was 39 years old and alone, as always, when Chimney walked back into his life, dragging an adorable and also extremely hot blonde and a stoic brunette that radiated ex military in a way only ex military could know. And then Hen was there and they were trying to rescue their captain and his wife and they clearly loved each other fiercely and like family.

And as Tommy listened, flying through the remnants of a cat 5 hurricane, he thought to himself that he should’ve never left. Simply just never found himself if only that meant being part of the family the 118 was now. However, he knew deep down that he still would’ve been alone and on the outside.

And they rescued the survivors and Tommy thought that was it but then Eddie wanted to hang out. And they liked the same things and had similar experiences and Tommy couldn’t help the hope. Because the loneliness had grown stifling and now he could breathe a little. And then Evan, the cute blonde, wanted a tour of the hanger and he thought that maybe he was being hit on.

And then at the end of it all, Tommy was left realizing that he’d wedged himself between two best friends and that was what happened when he allowed himself to hope. So he went to Evan to apologize. He would get Evan and Eddie to talk to each other and then would fade into the background.

But then Evan was sweet and apologetic and told him that he was part of the 118 family simply by helping them. Tommy couldn’t help it. Here he was, at 39, with a little boy still waiting inside of him to be soothed. And Evan was hot and sweet and Tommy couldn’t help himself.

And he really liked Evan. Evan was adorable. But their first date didn’t go as planned and Tommy knew he was already whipped. So he removed himself before someone could get hurt. Evan deserved better and so did he, even if the loneliness was stifling again.

But then Evan texted him and looked at him with sparkling blue eyes over too sweet coffee and wanted him. Him. He wanted Tommy and to have something with Tommy and he wanted him to come to his sister’s wedding with him.

And Tommy looked at him and saw someone who could finally fill the ache he’d felt his whole life. He saw a man who he knew he wanted to take a chance with. All he had to do was jump.

And he did.

And it wasn’t solved, not immediately and never fully. Too many wounds were left gaping for too long to ever heal. But for the first time in his life, at 39, with the 118 surrounding him and Buck as the sunshine at his side, Tommy finally felt at peace.

[ac3may]

"Everything for you" (Leah Williamson x Reader)

It's a little late but inspired by the belated birthday girl and Arsenal's incredible quarter-final win, far less butt-clenching than the Chelsea game I just sat through!

Request: "Leah Williamson x Reader where maybe the reader has glasses but doesn't need to wear them all the, time the team has never seen them with the glasses on and they walk in for training one day with the glasses on and the girls are like hyping her up cue a cute moment with Leah Or something like that."

Words: 1.2k

Wandering into training you can’t help the yawn that escapes you as you straighten the glasses on your face. Despite being known as one of the more timely members of the squad you have not managed to do yourself justice today. Having crawled out of bed a mere thirty minutes ago you hadn’t had the chance to follow your morning routine as you would have liked to. 

You knew it wasn’t the smartest decision to be awake until near midnight the day before you were due to play Bayern Munich in the second leg of the champions league quarter-final. But when it comes to your football and your girlfriend you will never deny that your she came first. 

Easing the bedroom door shut gently you tiptoe across the carpet, trainers in hand, in hopes to avoid stirring Leah from her sleep. Despite telling her you were visiting some old school friends for dinner you had actually spent the evening at Amanda’s house planning the following day's birthday celebrations and proposal preparations for the girl you both loved. Now you just had to hope you could secure the win to keep spirits high. 

You make it silently to the drawers to dig and change into an oversized t-shirt of your girlfriend’s. Pausing as you make your way back from the bathroom your eyes run over the snoozing figure of the blonde occupying the bed in the centre of the room. Your eyes fall to the alarm clock as the glowing numbers flicker from 11:59 to 12:00. Unable to help yourself you settle your knees into the rug beside the bed, lifting a careful hand to brush fallen strands of hair behind Leah’s ear. 

As you admire your girl you see her eyelids flicker and then open, drowsily. “Hey, pretty lady,” your soft whispers earn a lazy smile from the girl in front of you, “happy birthday.”

Game-day duffle bag over your shoulder you rush your way into the meeting room at London Colney. Jonas had called you all in for a strategy meeting prior to this evening's game. Typically you and Leah would make your way in together but after early morning cuddles, she insisted you get some extra rest before the game while she headed for a birthday brunch with her family. Except your lie-in had lasted longer than intended and joining your teammates you are hit with instant teasing for your tardiness. 

“Oooh, look who decided to show up!” Katie McCabe’s voice is the loudest and the first to reach you as you enter. With a grimace, you prepare yourself for the onslaught of teasing. 

“So it turns out it wasn’t Leah making you later all these years, huh L/N?” Jen Beattie is the next to speak resulting in an eye-roll and shake of your head as your eyes naturally direct themselves to the blonde in question, she smirks at you, basking in you receiving the teasing for once.

Settling beside the birthday girl, you greet her with a soft peck, “happy birthday my love, you have a good morning?” she simply smiles with a nod and settles a hand on your thigh in response, the notion being all you needed to communicate. 

A smartass remark to your teammates is on the tip of your tongue but before you can utter a syllable a new topic is introduced. “Y/N? I didn’t know you wore glasses?” Wally’s questioning tone attracts the attention of the room and several heads turn your way, to analyse the frames on your face for themselves. 

Your eyebrows furrow, your lack of sight is never something you had intentionally hidden from the Arsenal girls, just something that never came up. “Wait! Y/N you look so cute right now! Look at you with your little gold frames!” Lotte’s declaration results in a number of the other girls also hyping you up.

You can’t help the rosy blush which rises on your cheeks, burying your head into Leah’s neck as she watches the scene in amusement. She had expressed her attraction to you in glasses, very clearly, many moons ago. It occurred when you had first stayed the night and had timidly made your way from the bathroom, apprehensive of her judgement. 

With a light chuckle, she brings a hand to stroke your hair, “you are adorable baby, they’re right about that. A real birthday treat you’re giving me by not putting your contacts in.” You feel her smirk grow as her cheek rests against your head.

“Everything for you, doll.” You mutter in response, nipping teasingly at her collarbone.

Katie, again, makes herself known over the crowd as Leah grumbles scoldingly at you. “Don’t hide from our compliments Y/N/N! God knows you’re both too sickeningly cute to receive them very often.” Always the class clown her words hit the mark and the room is filled with laughter. 

A smirk still present from teasing your girlfriend you groan and reluctantly agree. Giving a light kiss to the area you’d nipped you pull away, a little more ready to face the day. You don’t get a chance to banter back however as Jonas enters the room, drawing a focused silence from all of you.

Having made it through the day with each of your teammates making at least one comment about the glasses adorning your face. The team coach pulls up outside the Emirates and with Leah’s hand clasped in yours, you make your way past fans and media, into the changing room. Settling beside each other, the group of you work on getting prepped for warm-ups.

Clad in red and white you disappear from the view of the team, washbag in hand, to the sinks around the corner. For the first time today, you remove the metal frames from your face and exchange them for your contact lenses.

Returning to the communal area you find it emptied of all teammates, minus one. A grin grows on your face as your eyes land on the beautiful blonde adjusting her socks from her spot in her cubby. 

Approaching her almost silently, it's the discarding of your washbag which draws attention. Entranced with the girl before you it's a natural instinct when your hand raises to stroke lovingly along her jaw.

“My gorgeous, gorgeous girl.” Your words are gently mutterings, lips brushing against hers as they rest together without the finalisation of a kiss.

Leah’s lips turn upward at the attention, a rosy tint coating her cheeks. A secure grip on your hips has her pulling you towards her, settling you on her lap as she finally receives the kiss she had been longing for since she left you in bed that morning. Lips moulding together as easily as breathing and gently hands caressing the body of the other as you take in the moment of peace between you.

When the pair of you separate it is only by mere centimetres as your forehead comes to rest against her, “I hope we can win this game,” the words escape in a rasp as you speak them, “for you. On your day.”

Leah only hums in response, “that’d be nice.” After chasing another peck of your lips she continues, “but after 26 spins around the sun I’d much prefer the knowledge I would spend each one from now with you.” 

An adoring smile drapes goofily across your face at her words and your mind briefly flickers to the ring box you know you have secured in the depths of your bag. Returning her brief peck you nod against her head, “now that, my dear, I do believe can be arranged.”

Please feel free to interact in my asks box! Send me requests, ask questions, whatever you like ◡̈. I know this might not be my greatest piece of work but it definitely respawn some inspiration so hopefully more to come🤞🏻!

[kairiscorner]

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

holy shock guys you need to restrain me rn

so imagine,

overworked salary man miguel o'hara x reader

day in, day out; from 8 in the morning to 5 in the evening, from monday to friday, miguel o'hara goes to work. not by choice, mind you, but to "serve his purpose in society and keep money and services flowing" for the insatiable society he is cursed to live in. he grumbles every morning when his alarm clock for 6:00 AM on the dot beeps and beeps until he decides to live that morning his mundane existence.

begrudgingly, he gets up and off the bed, dreaming to himself in his half-asleep stupor about how wonderful it'd be to get back under the covers and pretend he didn't have anything worthwhile to do. actually, he didn't need to pretend; his work was just that, anything but worthwhile. miguel has lost track of time on multiple occasions, only checking the calendar when he has nothing to work on, which is incredibly rare, mind you, and the look on his face when he realizes monday wasn't yesterday, for today is now friday.

miguel used to be a more sociable, confident, and sort of cocky guy. before he knew about the turmoils of the real world and lived every day like it was his last, miguel's now counting down his days--many of which has slipped from his mind entirely--until the day of his retirement, or his demise from all the workload he's been getting that seems endless. he wishes he could just have one day where he's not worrying about accounts or reports or having to face empty coffee cups by his table that aren't even his, or having a nosy co-worker look over at his monitor and chuckle about his work and point out his mistakes.

if only he could grab his keyboard and smash it against their heads without any repercussions, he'd do it in a heartbeat. and he'd do it again, and again, and again. he was tired and in need of solitude; though everyone else his age was doing the same thing without audible complaints and without much violent tendencies, he wanted an immediate exit from this hellish routine he was compelled to live out until he reaches his 60's.

he sighs as his virtual assistant, affectionately called lyla, greets miguel every morning--though he wishes he'd hear a voice other than hers the minute he awakes from his slumber, or lack of it. he mumbles back a good morning, not that the AI slept or anything. he makes himself coffee and reluctantly checks his phone for any updates at work. putting on his glasses and squinting, then pulling away from his phone as he adjusted his reading glasses, he deduced that it was the usual mail he received, with a lot of irritating nicknames from his boss. if he could punch him for every time he called him "mike", he'd've murdered him by now. but the man helps him pay his bills and put food on his table, he had to bear it. for a little longer.

miguel sighed as he put away his phone and readied the shower, thinking all the while if he should stop by a convenience store for breakfast or just make some toast. he had some time to kill, maybe he could make himself breakfast. as miguel stepped into the shower, he realized something was wrong. "mierda," he cursed as he grumbled and took off his reading glasses that he brought with him into the shower. all the kinds of things he does when he's out of it are phenomenally funny. yet miserable when you think about he's a man in his early 30's with a dead-end, nowhere job he finds no comfort or excitement in, barely has a social life, no friends that reach out to him for stuff other than high school reunions he has no interest in attending, and no one but a virtual assistant to greet him a good morning like she was coded to do.

miguel sighed as he finished his shower and turned the tap off and dried himself. as he wrapped the towel around his slim waist, he took a peek at the clock by his bedside table. how wonderful, he spent a long while in the shower lamenting his misfortunes, and now, he doesn't have the time to make himself breakfast anymore. could his day get any better?

miguel donned on his white button-up and realized he messed up the order of buttoning his shirt, the bottom most button without its counterpart buttonhole, and the buttonhole on the top most part of his clothing was without its counterpart button. he sighed as he undid his clothing, wishing his office would get rid of this pretentious dress code.

he finally did his buttons right and put on his blazer in an instant not caring to button it yet since he had to catch the commute by 7:00. he took his suitcase and was about to leave his apartment, when lyla appeared and reminded miguel about his dark red and blue striped tie that he left hanging on the backrest of his seat at the dining table. miguel groaned as he re-entered his home, lyla greeting him a welcome home, and him leaving before she could even finish her greeting.

miguel went down the stairs of the underground subway station and huffed as he caught his breath. he used to be so much more active when he was in his 20's, but that version of him has long since died when he signed his soul away to corporate slavery and his only form of exercise now is making his way from his home to the daily commute and back. he tapped his foot against the cement pavements and stood behind the bright yellow line; he hoped he'd make it on time before his boss, his annoying, stupid boss would chew him out for being a minute late again.

there were significantly more people boarding the trains that day, figures, it was a friday–everyone would be eager to go to work for a more rewarding weekend that'd be ahead of them all. however, for miguel o'hara, weekends only last for a minute; that's because he spends them all either finishing up work dumped on him by his extremely incompetent workmates or sleeping all day to make up for the 120 hours he spends in the earlier portion of his week working his ass off.

he barely got any sleep last night, staying up until 1 AM finishing up the organized reports he had to file and sending them to his head manager, that good for nothing, and stayed awake until 4:20 AM, listening to the ceaseless ticking of his bedside clock. insomnia's a thorn in his side, all the time. it also doesn't help that right now, as he's waiting for his daily commute, he felt the lack of sleep catch up with him as he felt his eyelids get heavier and heavier. he opened his mouth a little to yawn, feeling his eyes water as he did, signaling that sleepiness was upon him.

you know, maybe he could just shut his eyes a little and stand right where he is. yeah, he can do that; just giving hid eyes a rest as he–and he just missed his train.

wonderful, fantastic. now there wasn't anyone else on the platform waiting for the next train, it'd take too long. he sighed as he was about to leave, when he heard panting and the clacking of heels coming into the station. "shit!" he heard a voice cry out as the clacking got louder. he watched as you entered the station, exhausted and shaking in the knees. you must've ran a long distance to get here, for your forehead was beading with sweat, your chest rising and falling as you took in copious amounts of air, filling your tired lungs.

"did... did it..." you panted out, your speech broken as miguel approached you slowly, but didn't move any closer when you stood straighter, albeit in a strained and forced manner; pretending not to be panicky right now as your only train that'd get you to where you needed to be on time had just left seconds ago. miguel nodded with a slight frown on his face as he was predicting what follow up insults his buffoon of a boss would throw at him this time for being late, apart from a threat to cut dock him off his pay, or even worse, fire him on the spot–his sloppily done tie? his still tousled hair after probably three bottles of gel? his permanent scowl on his face, and the wrinkles that came with it?

he didn't want to think about it, it gave him headaches every time he thought of it, especially as it was becoming more and more of a reality as he stood there on the station platform with your spent figure from rushing in here, doing nothing. you sighed as you slumped on the mahogany bench nearby, sitting on spilled coffee someone so nicely left for you to sit on. "dammit!" you exclaimed in frustration as you got up, trying to get the stains off, but it merely spread over your clothes, making the mess more noticeable.

miguel wordlessly took off his unbuttoned blazer and offered it to your agitated figure. he looked at you with a nonchalant look on his face. "here, it'll hide the stain." he said as he peered at you, neither amused nor disappointed, just... utterly tired. you hesitated for a moment, but you took his blazer with a nod and a rushed, "thanks" as you wrapped the blazer around your waist and rubbed your face with your hands as you sighed yet again, even longer than the previous one.

"i'm getting fired after this, that's for sure." you murmured as you leaned your back against the wall and shut your eyes as you frowned. miguel, for some reason, joined you by the wall–leaning his own back against the wall and letting out a held in breath. "so am i." he confessed as you looked over at him. "well, guess that makes two of us." you muttered as you looked down at your shoes. "this might not matter to you anymore, but um..." you said as you looked back up at him, who now looked down at you; and as your gazes met, you pointed to his collarbone area. "the... the tie." you spoke as he peered down and noticed that his tie had come undone, what with it hastily being wrapped around his neck.

"well then, a lot of people might have seen it before you did, fuck." he said as he grabbed his tie and fumbled to tie it back on properly, grunting every now and then as his attempts to tie it all ended in failure. you couldn't take it anymore and told him to let you tie it for him. he couldn't resist, seeing as how you wouldn't take no for an answer after watching him fail time and time again.

"you have a... very pretentious looking tie." you remarked with a smirk as you did his tie, with him looking away from you out of embarrassment. a red hue appeared across his cheeks as you said that, and he pushed his glasses up further on his face. "it was a gift from my very competent head manager. they said red and blue were my colors, so they gifted me this. yeah." he rambled with a head scratch. you smiled at his rambling, and as he finished rambling, you finished tying his tie.

"that's better." you said as miguel looked down at his now tied up tie. he raised his eyebrows in an impressed manner. the creases on his tie that were the fruit of his earlier, miserable attempts were obscured. "wow, you... did it so much better than i ever could. thank you." he remarked with a small smile as he took off his glasses and tucked an arm of the glasses behind his button-up's front. he crossed his arms over his chest. "honestly, i'm not scared of getting fired. i'm thrilled about it, actually. i won't have to see those imbeciles at work, gawking over my reports and leaving their trash on my table. i'm just pissed they'll have the satisfaction of cutting me off and not me cutting them off." he said as he looked at your face and down at your waist where his blazer was embracing your curves.

"and... so am i." you said in a rather surprised voice as you said it–almost as if you yourself didn't realize you also hated your job, didn't like nor relate to your brainless co-workers who were suck ups to your equally shitty boss. miguel gazed over at you. "if you want to... wanna get some breakfast with me?" he asked in a gentle, almost as a whisper, tone. "it's okay if you don't want to, i just didn't get breakfast this morning–" "i'd love to." you said as you smiled up at him. "i'll tender my resignation letter all the while." you said as you looked at him with shining eyes. miguel smiled wider than before, hearing your words. he might've just made a new acquaintance... one with a brain and a heart, and has also had enough bullshit from horrible working conditions. he'd be lying if he said he wasn't interested in getting to know you, though.

"um... what's your name?"

a/n: NANAMI KENTOIFIED OUR MIGGY O'HARA LET'S GOOOOOO

@thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @luvstarrstruck@binibinileonara

[sees-text-shenans]

Minato and Kotone Lore 👁️👁️

Both born on January 8th, 1992

Parents names were Mei and Kaito Arisato

Moved from relative to relative after their parent’s deaths, but stuck with their Grandma in Yasoinaba when they moved with her in 2005

Mei was a dancer, Kaito was a music producer, so naturally they both ended up loving music

Were given their MP3’s the day that the accident happened

Only Minato went to Iwatodai, Kotone wasn’t interested and told him to go himself. It took a LOT of convincing but he left. Ko instead stayed with their grandma and has been studying to go into nursing school so she can be a care assistant for the elderly cus of it!! Kotone does visit Iwatodai occasionally and stays at the dorm (and since she is a Persona user, they let her come with to Tarty expeditions.

Since Minato came back to Iwatodai, he has not stepped on the Moonlight Bridge once (until the last shadow happened) Kotone just so happened to be there visiting when the mission happened and had tagged along to join the fight. Minato had a breakdown when they got there and Kotone had stepped up to be the leader (Fuuka stayed with Minato!)

They’re total opposites, but they complete each other in the things they lack

Minato

He was born first by 5 and a half minutes and teased Kotone relentlessly about it (not so much anymore)

He is really shy with new people, so much so he’ll go completely mute, but once he warms up to someone, he’ll be more expressive and open.

Kotone is the only person who’s seen his true self (before SEES came along at least)

He’s always been at Kotone’s side, so when he left for Iwatodai alone, he felt empty, and wouldn’t really interact with any of SEES outside of missions until after the Priestess mission.

He likes to collect CDs and manga

In track and photography club

insanely socially awkward someone save this man

tends to speak before he thinks, so he unintentionally upsets people and doesn’t realize

Gets embarrassed easily lol

Owns a guitar but sucks at playing it

He also writes lyrics!!!!

He bought his first keyboard after getting a lot of money from Tartarus. He’s been getting into making music just like his dad did !!!

Listens to a little bit of everything, but really likes metal and late 90’s-early 00’s rap

He listens to his dad’s CDs and his mom’s VHS tapes of her dancing all the time just see her face and hear his voice…He’s scared that he’ll burn them out lol Kotone can’t stand to watch and lister to them because she’ll start to cry and she hates crying

He’s really good at dancing thanks to his mom, and even took ballet when he was younger.

He’s in love with Fuuka!!!!!!( sorry not sorry!!! lmao)

He’s dated both a guy and a woman in the past. He’s biromantic and demisexual.

Kotone

She gets hyper easily and it made it hard for her to get friends early on, but she always had Minato so she was okay with it.

While she loves music, she’s never really wanted to compose or dance, she just loves listening to music.

Took a couple ballet lessons with Minato, but she didn’t like it so she quit. She did go watch him though!! Instead she started martial arts classes. she graduated with a black belt~

She uses a Naginata in battle, but she also uses her martial arts skills to beat shadow ass!!!! (Minato is so proud of his sister!!!!!)

Is a force to be reckoned with in Tartarus.. Minato was scared to let her join during her first trip to Tartarus, but after watching her stagger the Reaper in one punch (haha get it), he decided she’s just fine

She LOVES horror movies, much to Minato’s dismay (he…. doesn’t prefer them he‘ll but we all know he’s scared of them)

Always was the one to stand up for Minato since he never talked to anyone but his family. He would just sit there and take the bullying and Kotone was not having it!!!

When Kotone is home in Yasoinaba, she attends Yasogami high and works part-time as a tutor and at the Amagi Inn. She tends to spend time with the owner’s daughter and help her in her studys!!!!

She takes care of all the Inaba cats and updates Minato on the additions to their family everyday. (“Minty!! say hello to your new niece!” “My 17th niece.. Ko, you need to bring them here.” “Oh my god YES!!!”)

Kotone’s in drama club, but no sports clubs.

Ropes Minato into helping her practice lines cus secretly, he’s a really good actor too

She loves Tuxedo Sam, has a huge collection of Sam plushies (Minato won her a HUGE plush at a festival when they were 15)

also has a lot of plushies and squishmellows

pansexual club!!

Kotone falls in love too easily, and her crush changes like every week, but she never acts out on it cus she’s super nervous. (“OH MY GOD MINTY GUESS WHO I LIKE” “Who is it this time? Kanjiro-San, Chiko-Chan.. Ohh, or maybe do you like Karina-chan again?” “NO!!! ….It’s Tomo-kun…��� “Oh, good luck.”) She’s never gone out with anyone cus of her shyness, but she’s also scared that she’ll fall in love with someone else during a relationship. She has gone on dates, but never made anything official.

On that note, Ko is a super flirty person! Max level rizz for sure

She loves hanging out with Ken!!! They learned that they both love Neo Featherman and talk about it all the time!!! She feels like she has a little brother and is happy she can be a big sister for once!!

She also loves her Junjun!!! They became super fast best friends, and she even helps Junpei with planning dates for him and Chidori!! Best wingwoman!!

[arcaneorphic]

Redamancy - Timeskip! Osamu x Reader

Pairing: Timeskip! Miya Osamu x Flower Shop Owner! Reader

Genre: Fluff,

Summary: Redamancy: a love returned in full; an act of loving the one who loves you; the act of loving in return.

Osamu, owner of Onigiri Miya, and the owner of the flower shop next door find that falling in love happens slowly and all at once.

Word Count: 3,217

Osamu had come to terms with his jadedness a long time ago. Where his brother was a hopeless romantic, he’d like to think he was a realist. Atsumu believed in love in spite of their father, where Osamu didn’t because of that man. The twins hardly knew anything about their father, and they liked it that way. Though it was clear that he left lasting damage on the two—however much they tried to deny it. In their teenage years the twins were fairly popular among their female peers. Where Atsumu indulged in that fact, Osamu did the opposite. Sure, he had a girlfriend or two during high school, but they were never that serious; at least not serious enough for them to meet his ma. 

Besides, he had other things to worry about—more important things. He was a twenty-three year old business owner and he didn’t have the spare time to worry himself over another person like that. He was content with his life just as is. At least that’s what he would tell himself whenever he returned to his quiet apartment after working long hours at his onigiri shop. 

*** 

It was early on a Tuesday morning when Osamu was unlocking the front of his shop so he could prepare for the day. The usual busy street was relatively silent, save for the early morning commuters either going to or returning from work. However, there was one thing out of place. The jingling of keys to the shop next door caught his attention. She was far too early, he noted. Usually she doesn’t open until 9:00 am.  

Once, when a customer had asked him when the shop next door opened and he answered automatically Atsumu had raised an eyebrow at that. When pressed on why he knew that information so readily Osamu rolled his eyes and said something about how often customers unfamiliar with the area would ask so it was only reasonable for him to learn. There was no way in hell he would ever tell Atsumu the truth. He’d never admit that the real reason he knew when the shop next door opened was because he’d see her walk in front of the windows of his restaurant every morning to open. 

“Mornin’,” he said.

“Oh! Morning!” She seemed frazzled. He took notice of how she seemed to be having trouble opening her door. 

“You alright?”

“Yeah.. just,” she huffed. “Doors just been getting stuck recently.”

The twinge of frustration in her usual sweet voice amused him, “Here, let me.”

“Thank you, but you really don’t have to. I don’t want to keep you from getting to what you need to,” she tried to protest. 

He gave her a smile, charming and kind, “Really, ‘s no issue.”

She stepped aside. He pushed against the door slightly, and it sure was stuck. A small part of him worried how she’d lock up for the day to count her tills if it was this difficult, but he quickly pushed the thought away as it wasn’t his place to worry about such a thing. He pushed against the door harder this time, thankful for the years of strength training he did and still does—though less and far between now. 

She let out a sigh of relief as the door opened, “Bless, I thought I’d be out here for at least another half hour.”

Cute, he thought to himself. 

“If you don’t mind me askin’, what’re you doin’ here so early?”

“Turns out a client of mine decided fairly last minute that she’d like a whole new flower and arrangement for a dozen centerpieces,” she sighed. “So, if you’re in the market for some peonies, let me know. I’ll give you a discount for helping me open the door.”

He laughed, a good and proper one, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She smiled back at him and he swore the harsh morning air got a little easier to deal with. The two parted after wishing each other a good day. 

*** 

As Osamu prepped for the day he let his mind wander to the woman next door. The first time they had met was when he first moved into this space. He wasn’t open for business, still just a few tables and not nearly enough chairs, when there was a knock. 

He put on his best customer smile ready to tell the person that he’d be open in a weeks time, but his words caught in his throat when he laid eyes on her. He swore he’d never seen someone so beautiful before. 

“Hi, I own the flower shop, Ume Field, next door and I just wanted to welcome you to the area,” her voice was sweet and kind, but not in the way that seemed forced or unnatural. 

She took a step into the space and Osamu had never worried so much for a stranger, there was still construction equipment littering the floor and he’d be beside himself if she got hurt. He tried to tell himself that it was because he couldn’t afford a lawsuit if she happened to get hurt on his property, but that was hardly the reason. 

He took the arrangement from her outstretched hands. The oranges and dark gold of flowers he could not name for the life of him stared back at him, “Thank you, but I have to admit I don’t know much about flowers.”

She smiled at that as she pointed to each flower respectively, “Well these are for luck and these are for prosperity. Just um… I don’t see many people our age around here so I thought I’d give you a welcoming gift.”

She was right. Most of the other owners around them were fairly older than they were, more experienced and a lot more certain about income. 

“This is real nice of you,” his face felt warm and he hoped for the life of him he wasn’t blushing. 

Those flowers stayed on the counter of his shop for as long as he could keep them. When Atsumu made a comment about them during opening day Osamu told him to “shut his mouth” and “mind his business”. Atsumu chose to drop it for the time being but he’d never forget the soft look in his brother’s eyes whenever he looked at those flowers. 

***

It was an awful day. The kind of day that made him doubt if opening his own restaurant was a good idea after all. Maybe he should have just become a pro-athlete like his twin. He was a damn good volleyball player and the money would’ve been nice, not to mention never having to deal with self-entitled customers or things that were far out of his control. He was wiping down tables as he let himself fume in his frustrations. There was still ten minutes before he officially closed, and when he heard the chime of his door opening he had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. 

Of course, he thought as he collected himself enough to turn and greet the customer. 

“Rough day?” Her eyebrows knitted and concern laced in her voice. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled, humorless and exhausted. If asked, he would deny the way his tensed shoulders relaxed at the sound of her voice, “Ya want the usual?”

She shook her head, “No, no, I’m alright.”

“Told you it’s not a problem. Besides, makes no sense for you to go home hungry when you’re here,” a repeat of a conversation he’s sure they’ve had a hundred times. 

With the holiday’s coming soon she would leave her shop later, and the first time he’d seen her walk by his restaurant at 7:30 he had rushed out to stop her. Since then, whenever she finds herself leaving at a later hour than intended, she waits inside Onigiri Miya. 

She walks to the front counter and picks up one of the rags, “And I told you I’ll only eat something if you let me pay for it.”

As she starts to wipe down one of the tables he feels his heart clench, “You don’t have—.”

“Well I’m going to,” she interrupts. 

Always so damn stubborn, he thinks. If there’s one thing he’s learned about her its that she’s as headstrong and stubborn as they come. The first time she had stood in front of him with arms crossed and pretty face set he had to walk away. 

“Then you’re going to eat somethin’.”

There’s a brief silence before an exaggerated sigh leaves her lips, “Fine.”

With that Osamu goes to make something for her. As he does so he pretends not to see her place five dollars at the register and tomorrow when she comes by his shop to drop off flowers as a way to ‘repay’ him for the food, she’ll pretend not to notice him slip the five dollars into the pocket of her apron. He’s fairly certain they’ve been trading the same five dollars for the past four months. 

She hums along to the song playing over the speakers as she wipes down the last three tables. In all honesty, Osamu was nearly done cleaning by the time she came in, but he still appreciated the way she insisted on lessening whatever she could. She disappeared into the back for a bit, returning with a broom in hand. Before she could make any headway in sweeping he called her name. 

Osamu meets her half way and takes the broom from her hands. She pats him gently on his bicep as she walks by. He watches her for a moment. She walks behind the counter and takes a seat at the stool he has there. The way she walks about his shop freely puts a smile on his face. 

Yeah, I made the right choice, he thinks to himself as he begins to sweep the floor. 

***

“Ma, tell yer thick headed son that he needs to man up and just do it,” It’s taking every ounce of patience and respect for his mother Osamu has to not jump across the table and fight Atsumu the way they did in their teens. 

“You really never get tired of hearin’ yer own voice, huh?” Osamu spits back, accent always a little thicker around his brother and ma. 

Osamu’s eyes keep flicking towards the window of his shop, thinking he’s doing it slyly enough not to be caught; but of course his ma is fully aware. There’s a look of concern that she’s never seen in her son’s eyes before. She knows her son—she knows that he hates the idea of falling in love only for it to turn tainted and ugly. She also knows that prior to moving into this space her son had no idea how to keep a plant alive, but looking at the various plants and flowers that decorate his shop she knows that something inside of her son has healed. 

She eats her onigri that her son lovingly made, and tunes out the sound of her son’s arguing—she’s used to this little back and forth of theirs. For as much as Atsumu enjoys antagonizing his brother, he wants him to be happy and he sees that the shop owner next door does just that.

Onigiri Miya is empty, save for the three of them, which is the only reason why Osamu is indulging his brother’s antics. Well, that is only partially true; the other reason he is allowing this to continue is that it keeps his mind off of the worry growing in the pit of his stomach. 

Just as Osamu is about to pull out his phone and call, he sees an all too familiar beat up blue kei truck parking in front of his restaurant. Both his brother and mother notice the worry fade from Osamu’s eyes only to be replaced by amused adoration. 

“Watch the shop,” Osamu tells his brother as he walks outside to meet the woman. 

Atsumu and their ma watch as the woman driving the truck beams at Osamu as he walks up. Even though they can’t hear the exchange occurring between the pair it’s clear by the way the woman shakes her head at whatever Osamu says and grabs his wrist to show him his watch that he made a comment about the time. 

Ma notes the way her son smiles at the woman and how easily the woman keeps up with her son’s quips. Just as Osamu is about to pick up one of the boxes in the bed of her truck they see as she smacks his hand away. She stands there, arms crossed and face set as she tells—scolds—him not to overexert himself seeing as he did so yesterday while he was getting his shipment in. He replies with something that has her rolling her eyes and laughing before she goes off to open her shop door. 

“See what I mean, Ma,” Atsumu sighs. 

*** 

Osamu is convinced he’s never been this nervous before. Telling his twin he’s quitting volleyball? Starting a food truck? Opening a brick and mortar? A breeze compared to having the most beautiful, intelligent, and hardworking woman stood in his small studio apartment. While at his shop he could feign having his life in order, but having a woman like her in a place like this made him feel… like he was fighting a losing battle. There was no way he could ever be enough—. 

“No fair, you’ve got bigger windows!” 

Osamu paused, pulled from his spiral, “What?”

“The windows in my studio are teeny tiny compared to yours,” she explained, as if that would somehow make Osamu understand her. He didn’t. 

She walked further into his apartment the same way she walked about his restaurant—as if she’s done it a million times. Oddly, under all his ‘first date’ anxieties, he felt the same; as if this was commonplace for them—his soul was at ease with hers. 

“Okay, well dinners almost ready if you wanna… keep cryin’ over my windows,” he chuckles. 

He’s had to have said that phase thousands of times in his life, but never once did they fill him with as much domestic bliss as when he said them to her. 

“What’re you making,” same lilt in her voice as when she asked him that same question after-hours at Onigiri Miya. 

“You’ll see in a minute,” same response he always gave her. 

“This is a date, you know, you’re supposed to be nice to me,” the teasing glint in her eyes he’s learned well returning. She leans on the counter, small of her back pressing up against the lip, while she looks up at him. He’s all too familiar with this too. 

“Am I not? Being nice to ya, I mean,” his tongue slipping back into its natural accent subconsciously. 

“That country charm will only get you out of so much, Osamu,” he was certain that he would die if he ever had to go without hearing his name coming from her mouth. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smirks as he pats her hip to move her and grab something from the cabinet behind her. 

That move being something that he learned from her. It was comical, really, the way a 6’4” man, built and strong, could easily be pushed around with a few simple pats from the sweetest looking woman in a soft pink apron. 

“How’d that date your brother went on go, by the way?” She asked once she settled back into her previous position. 

Osamu gave her a look that told her all she needed to know. In the time she had grown closer to Osamu it also meant getting to know the loud setter. The first time she had met Atsumu he had walked into her shop lackadaisically looking around. She had been thoroughly confused as to why the owner of Onigiri Miya was mulling about her shop instead of tending to his own. When she walked up to him, ready to scold him for not attending to his restaurant, he looked at her. In that moment the playful jab bubbling in her throat disappeared because she knew that he wasn’t Osamu. 

At that point, Osamu had moved into the space next to hers only two months ago, but even then she could tell that the identical looking man in front of her was not him. The man in front of her did not make her heart flutter and his eyes didn’t make her feel seen. When the man introduced himself as Atsumu, brother to the owner next door, she smiled. 

“Poor guy, he sounded like he really liked her,” she says, pulling herself from the memory at the sound of sizzling coming from the pan. 

Osamu sighs, “Yeah, and you said that about the last girl he went out with too.” 

Atsumu had gotten into the habit of purchasing bouquets from her shop for his dates, which meant that he spent his time between Onigiri Miya and Ume Field singing praise over the newest ‘love of his life’. She had met many people like Atsumu since opening her shop, hopeless romantics with hearts far too big and sensitive for their own good, and she would listen intently as he spoke of those women. Atsumu was genuine and the women who he dated often times were not. Gold diggers or people chasing their fifteen minutes for dating the Miya Atsumu. 

“He’s just got a big heart, Osamu.”

“He’s an idiot.”

She gives him a look that makes him want to be kinder, “Listen, I’ve just had to deal with this—with him—my whole life and I don’t like him botherin’ you with it now.” 

“I’ve told you, I don’t mind.”

“I know, I know,” he says. 

A comfortable silence settles between them as Osamu plates their food. He sets the food on the small table and then walks towards her. She smiles softly as she takes his outstretched hand into hers and lets him pull her closer. She’s never met a man like Osamu before, that much she’s sure of. From that moment, all those Tuesday’s ago, when she had told him her door was difficult to open and he closed his shop for an hour so he could fix her door she knew that he had her heart. 

Unbeknownst to her, Osamu had fallen for her far before then, as much as he wanted to deny it. The moment she had walked into his restaurant, wood and construction equipment strewn across the flower, with flowers arranged meticulously by her talented hands he was taken with her. Even so, he waited until now, a year later, to ask her on a date. There was still growth he needed to do before he started anything with her. She deserved the best version of himself he could give. 

“Hi,” he says softly as she wraps her arms around his torso. 

“Hi,” she repeats as she rests her head on his chest. 

Years from now, when they’re stood in the home that they’ve built together he’ll think back to this moment. He’ll think of standing in his cramped studio apartment with the woman that would become his wife and feeling a wave of peace settle in his soul. 

[hh0320]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞.

part one of the velvet opiate series— part two.

pairing: rockstar! hyunjin x reader (+ minho, felix, chan)

genre: visual gothic rock band, manipulation, dark smut, hurt/comfort, toxic skz, set in the late 90’s-early 00’s.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: profanity, sexual themes, unprotected intercourse, drug & alcohol abuse, violence, self hate, mentioned self harm, mentioned bdsm, dark! members.

a/n: this is a dark fic. i do not condone the actions of the characters, nor do i associate the guys with this behavior. this is entirely fictional. lmk what you think! 🤭

The newspaper wrote ‘Yokohama Arena: the horrors of Velvet Opiate’s destructive nature,’ in bold letters.

Felix read the article animatedly, emphasizing how ‘scandalous’ this band was, how ‘corrupting young girls, and brainwashing teenagers should and would not be encouraged.’ That societal rules are there to be followed, and ‘these barbaric acts of animalistic chaos have to stop’, it ‘cannot on any level be considered music, when the frontman is half naked in front of high school girls.’

“Fucking gorgeous, frontman,” Felix coughed, smirking. “They got it all wrong.”

Their agency had been getting calls all morning; parents complaining, endorsers pulling out, others paying double to have the band advertise their products. Magazines wanting to set up interviews—one thing was certain.

Everyone was talking about Velvet Opiate—everyone wanted a piece of them. Good, or bad, or both. As long as they were paying.

Their manager had them turn on the TV—channel 7 was reporting on yesterday’s concert, broadcasting the band across the nation. If anything, their little scheme had worked. What would a rock band be, after all, without bad publicity?

Chan pulled his cap further down, hiding his face from view. “We’re gonna have to go into hiding for a while,” he crossed his arms.

“Lockdown, huh?” Minho looked bored. Hyunjin could almost see the gears in his mind, already working out ways to sneak out.

“Just for a couple weeks,” their manager promised. “You’ll be staying at the same hotel, as usual. And Minho, for fuck’s sake, don’t even think about it this time.”

Minho met Hyunjin’s eyes—smug bastard. Knew it.

“Got it, boss,” he replied, fake defeat in his stance.

“Wardrobe is ready for you. This will be the last interview for a while. Remember to not mention yesterday, the interviewer has been made aware.”

All of it was an act—a costume that they had to wear. Felix had become the ‘it’ boy of the scene, Vivienne Westwood had wanted an exclusive contract with them, because of him—he was destined to lead a band, and he carried it well with his deep voice, and unique features.

Chan was the heart and soul of their music. Without him, they’d be nothing. His ability to produce and oversee everything, his patience with the members, his cool demeanor and critical thinking—it’s helped them out of difficult-to-navigate situations.

Like Hyunjin’s drug scandal. Like Minho’s mystery pregnant girl.

They survived those things, because the label believes in Chan’s song making; because Chan fought for them—because what they have, has been Chan’s dream since he was a little boy, watching Led Zeppelin on TV, swearing to himself he’d be just like them when he grew up. What a fucking dream.

The rest of them? They’re just there for the ride. They’re there, because they’re handsome, and because they can play an instrument. Trouble always finds them, they attract chaos.

Hyunjin had always been a quiet boy, a reserved artist. He picked up painting as a hobby when he was a teenager, and now cannot, for the life of him, find where he ends and color begins. It always has to be obsession with him—heart attack, on the floor bleeding, if you take something that’s his.

He has trouble quitting—like Minho. But where Minho can be cold, and detached, Hyunjin would rather bury himself alive.

It started with cutting when he was nine; his mother abandoned him for a month, and his father, the rich asshole, was never there for a day in his life—Hyunjin struggled with loneliness from a young age. He would accept anyone that gave him a little love, would split himself open for them, and would ultimately fall into the deepest fits of depression after they left him.

He got used a lot. Sometimes it’d be older women, sometimes classmates, wanting his money. He gave, and gave, and believed all of them. Then the alcohol came, and it numbed the pain so good. A false sense of confidence.

That’s when he picked up the electric guitar. The loudness of it, could drown him whole. An artist through and through, alone in the world, with money to burn. A cliché fucking tragedy.

Heroin didn’t come ‘till later, but no one wants to hear about that. All of it was an act—a costume they had to wear.

As for Minho—a total mystery. A question mark. He appeared like God one day, when they were looking for a bassist, and since then he’s given them some of the best bass lines there are out there. A womanizer, good at getting his way, secretive when it comes to his personal life.

Hyunjin knows he grew up in an orphanage. The media has attempted to dig deeper, find out more, but the agency pays them good money to stop trying.

For the past two years, since he’s joined them, they’ve become like brothers. Felix hates his guts sometimes, but Hyunjin has seen the way Minho gently guides him, has seen how protective he is over the youngest and the most important.

For Hyunjin, Felix is his twin. The public sees it that way, and the label sells them like that. Every photo shoot, every album jacket, Felix is Hyunjin’s mirror. The light to his dark, the sun to his moon. In a way, they attract each other.

The interviewer asks all this, and all of them try to paint an interesting personality. All an act, all a costume. No one ever truly knows, and that’s fine, as long as that blinding, glamour like limelight falls on them every night. As long as they get to play, and be together.

“Lastly, the fans would like to know—do any of you have girlfriends?”

Wouldn’t you like to know? Chan glanced at Minho. He had intently been staring at this woman, and she had noticed, how could she have not?

“Are you interested?” Minho asked, half teasing, half joking. Legs crossed, arms crossed over each other, that simple, that easy.

Minho had found his girl for the night.

“We’re all single, ma’am. Are we done here?” Chan, ever the politest individual, all business.

“Yes, I think so. Thank you so much!”

The members got up, and bowed. Countless autographs, and pictures later, Velvet Opiate was back in the van, ready for some well deserved privacy. Except for Minho.

Minho was waiting in the hall, a dark angel dressed in an all black private school uniform, with numerous silver, safety pins all over, a slightly oversized leather jacket draped on his shoulders.

Inky mid length purple hair, and glittery dark brown eyes. He will devour that girl whole, Felix said, looking between them. He wasn’t wrong.

Their manager entered the SUV, doing a head count.

“Goddamnit, Lee!”

Chan snorted. “Did you really expect him to behave?”

Hyunjin had been silent, looking out the window, cigarette in mouth. He was itching for something more, the hole in his heart growing larger.

“Speaking of,” he started, “could you drop me off at the Red Light?”

“Hyunjin,” Chan warned.

He knew. No matter how many times Minho broke the rules, he would always get a slap in the knee. Because he can contain himself—because he knows what too much is, knows how to get himself out.

Hyunjin would never be Minho. Hyunjin would be his own demise.

“I really need this, man.”

“What you need is sleep—”

“You guys have no idea how much shit you’re in. There are mosquitos out there, waiting, dying to bite you. You’re killing yourselves here,” their manager was getting progressively angrier.

“I’m not always gonna be there to pick you up.”

Chan rested his hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder. Hyunjin shrugged it off, sharply. Felix sighed.

“I’ll go with you,” he said. “He’s not gonna do anything with me there.”

Hyunjin hated Felix then. Hated him, because he was right. He respected the boy too much to invite him into the horrible fucking shitshow his personal life was. With that being said, the itch was becoming a pain, and it wouldn’t be long now.

“You’re going for her, aren’t you?” Felix whispered, once the car was on the road.

Hyunjin’s face was half hidden behind long blonde hair. Exhaling smoke, he looked at his better twin. Shorter, platinum hair on top of a cute, kind face. So many piercings adorning his ears, a single stud on his nose. Plaid suit, with combat boots.

Picture perfect rockstar, coming to the rescue. Hyunjin smiled, throwing his cigarette out the window.

“She doesn’t mean anything, honey.”

Felix scowled. “Fuck you, Hwang.”

“Say when.”

“Ladies,” Chan reasoned from the back seat.

Hyunjin laughed a full laugh, putting his arm around Felix’s shoulders, pulling him in. Felix fought, but to no avail. Hyunjin grinned down at the younger boy.

“Maybe,” he replied honestly. “I want to see her.”

He’d seen you serving there. A vision to his drunken self, you appeared an angel to him. He’d had no voice to ask for your name, no way to bring you closer.

This time he was completely sober, much to his dismay. But he had to be—he had to know you. You’d been haunting his dreams for a month now. All his highs, you were there extending your hand to him, pulling him out the shadows, kickstarting his heart.

“I’ll have the driver pick you both up,” Joon, their manager, said. “No later than two o’clock, and no fucking drugs, Hyunjin. I mean it.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“I wish that was true.”

Hyunjin’s long, black trench coat was moving against the wind, making him look quite unreal. Felix followed behind him, looking out for any person recognizing them. If word got out, they could get in big trouble.

“Don’t worry too much, hm?” Another cigarette had found its way to the elder’s mouth. “You’ll forget about everything in there.”

One look at the bouncer, and the door was open, no questions asked. Hyunjin seemed well known around this place. Of course, it could be the name of the band he was in, that gave him such power, or simply the fact that he was Hwang Hyunjin. He could bewitch anyone. If only he realized that.

The bar’s name rang true, as a red neon light bled throughout the whole establishment. Black leather couches, and a never ending bar was the main point. Girls dressed in bondage served, while hypnotic, dark music played. There were no windows, just one single erotic dream, on replay.

Felix had never been there. He wondered why. Hyunjin was greeting some people behind the counter, a sinner dressed in all black, pale hair acting like a halo, enveloped in smoke.

His band mate fit right in. Felix hoped that didn’t mean he was too far gone.

Hyunjin was in agony. He needed a fix, and he needed it before Felix could sense how fucked up his friend truly was. Cigarettes did shit all for him, and he’d already went through a full pack of them.

He downed his drink, and ordered another one for Felix.

You were across the room, tiniest fucking skirt barely covering your ass. Fuck him, a hundred times. What took over him was primal, the need to see you naked making him dizzy.

What were you doing to him? His itch went away as soon as his cock got hard. He needed you. He needed you like heroin.

A flash of a black coat towards you, and you were taken away from the crowd, backed into a wall next to the bathrooms. Your heart had leapt out your chest, your breath stolen.

Who was this angel man staring into your soul?

“You have cursed me, sweetheart. I can’t see anything but you.”

Those lips, those eyes… You’d seen them before. On TV. Long black coat, angel hair, long fingers playing the guitar…

Your mouth fell open. This was the lead guitarist of Velvet Opiate. He felt so strangely familiar to you, yet you cross your heart and hope to die, you’ve never been this close to him before.

There was a cigarette in his right hand, and it was burning your eyes. You were completely trapped between the wall and his chest. It was the way he was staring down at you, like you were the last thing holding him on planet Earth.

“I’ve been waiting for you for so long,” he muttered, leaning above your lips, his tobacco breath fanning your face.

“I have to go back to work, sir, please—”

“May I kiss you?”

He looked so starved, how could you refuse? This tall, broad, shell of a man was asking you to save him, how could you ever say no?

“Yes,” a breath.

His mouth devoured yours, his non dominant hand roughly grabbing your chin. This was what hunger felt like, this kiss, the way his tongue moved with yours, searching, ravaging. You moaned, and he growled, cigarette long forgotten, now burning his hand. He felt nothing of it. Your mouth was paradise.

His hand travelled down, scratching your waist, over your hips, in between your legs, yes, yes—you were burning, scorching hot, and sweating. You wanted more, more of what he offered, all of it, whatever he would give you—

He’d give everything. You could take it all.

“Fuck, angel. You’re gonna be the death of me,” his lips got lost on your neck, sucking and biting and killing you.

Oh, you were dying too. You were gonna die with him. Your heart was beating in your ears, your blood rushing. This was what it felt like—to be wanted. Entirely.

His palm was rubbing against your aching, wet cunt, his mouth kissing you raw once again.

You would die the necessary death. As long as he never stopped kissing you, you would.

He picked you up, and walked you underneath the staircase, the darkest place of the bar. You could feel it, feel him, his want for you, what it meant. He held you against him so tight, like he was afraid you’d disappear.

He wanted you. Out of everyone, silly, old you.

“I need to be inside you, sweetheart.”

You were already nodding, already in a hurry to unzip his pants—you were going to cum on his fingers, before you could even have the real thing. You needed him inside you, too. He had started a fire, and he was the only one who could put it out, before you burned alive.

“I’m not like this,” you rasped, voice gone, tears streaming down your face. “I’m not anything like this, I swear—”

Hyunjin wiped your eyes, kissing down your cheeks, as you grabbed his cock. He faltered, taking a sharp intake, eyes squeezing shut.

“Tiny fucking skirt, an angel just for me,” Hyunjin words were feverish, all in your mercy. You guided him in your cunt, and he cursed. “You’re just for me, baby.”

He entered you in one fluid movement, and you both groaned. Your arms hugged his neck tighter, as he started fucking you brutally. Your back was hitting the wall with every thrust, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were so wet, so incredibly wet for him, and aching—an ache so strong, you’d let him fuck you in front of everyone, if that’s what he wanted.

You should’ve known he’d be bad for you, then. Instead, you didn’t. You let yourself be fucked senseless, and you came hard, over and over, as Hyunjin whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

Letting a stranger have his way with you like this—what were you thinking?

You weren’t. You’d do it again, in a heartbeat.

“Your dick feels so good, fuck…” You had been reduced to whimpers, and tears. “Please…please…”

“What do you need, sweetheart? I wanna fucking cum in you, angel. My perfect girl. That’s right, baby, fuck on me, get whatever you need…take it all…”

When he came in you, you realized this man had destroyed himself for you. A dark angel, his seed deep within you, his breath stolen by you. Your taste all over his fingers. This man would have to leave with your scent all over him.

When you came for him, Hyunjin knew he would never leave you alone. His perfect angel, draped in red, fucked out, holding onto him. That’s what all his dreams were about.

You, naked, being taken—being consumed by him. There was nothing stronger than you, then. Nothing he craved more.

A terrifying panic set in him. Being addicted to a person was so much worse than being addicted to a needle. He was getting buried again, like every time before.

One look at you in his arms, and he couldn’t give a damn about himself. Cursed, and alone. He was dead already, he had died a long time ago.

Setting you down, he helped you with your skirt, making sure to memorize your skin, kneeling on one knee for you to hold onto, while his mind was taken over by shadows again.

He would have to leave you, with no way to see you again. Damn him to Hell.

He needed a drink, and a fucking cigarette. He was not good at leaving—was never the one to go. But there was no choice—Joon would agree.

Better it being a person, than a drug. Even if the person can be so much more deadly.

You crouched down with him, holding his bicep, trying to get a look on his face. You saw the flame of the cigarette, but his eyes were covered by silky hair. Your heart skipped a beat—this man was breathtakingly beautiful, and he had wanted you, but he didn’t belong anywhere near you. How, then, was this going to end up in anything other than heartbreak?

You were prepared. All rockstars fuck girls, and never speak to them again. You weren’t stupid, but you were naive. You did fall for the oldest trick, after all.

Love. Pretend.

What you weren’t prepared for, though, was seeing tears trickle down his porcelain face after he turned your way. Dark eyes, taking in your face, his hand reaching for your neck.

When it wrapped around you like a vine, it felt like you deserved it. A punishment for falling into a trap. He stared at you like this, grip never tightening, no matter how much you wanted it to.

He smiled at you then; through tears, through angel hair; picture perfect—your broken rockstar.

“My girl,” he murmured. You went to reach for his face, but he shook his head. Your hand dropped like dead weight.

Your heart dropped with it.

His fingers moved, down to your collarbones, making way up your neck again, grasping a fistful of hair, pulling lightly, and then finally resting on the back of your neck. He looked like he wanted to kiss you, but made no move to do so.

You waited, like a beggar, like a little girl waiting for Christmas. You waited for the present, you waited for the crumbs.

“I won’t see you for a while,” his hand moved away, and he got up, leaving you down.

Missing him already.

“Tell me I wasn’t stupid to do this, and I’ll believe you,” you said, looking up at him.

Your broad angel of death, in all his ruin.

He took a long puff of his cigarette, considering your words. No matter what he said, it would sound like a lie. You held too much over him, to be betrayed.

You held his sanity, now.

“You’re my lifeline, now, angel.”

You had no idea what that meant, how much it entailed. But you’d learn, later, and wish you never did. He will ignore this, and love you dead.

Because this is what he does. Because this is a very old story, and there is no other version to it. It has to be this, always.

When he left you, his black coat swung behind him, halo on his head. You had been sure he’d been a dream.

How to meet a dream again? How to wait for it?

Hyunjin found Felix making out with, what he assumed was, a waitress. The music had changed into something with more bass. He grabbed Felix’s half empty drink, and downed it.

Then he knocked on the table loudly. Felix groaned, and looked at his direction.

“You’re back,” he commented, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

“Should I leave you here?”

Felix considered it. The waitress on him giggled, and the choice was made.

“You’ll be okay on your own? Promise me,” Felix’s features sobered immediately.

Hyunjin nodded. “Always.”

Later, when he couldn’t move his body, the abandoned house burning a slow, blue fire, he thought promises meant nothing.

No one ever kept them.

[riftwirecrystal]

NINJAGO STARSTRUCK AU - SPINJITZU AT 25:00 OPENING

This is the opening of the Ninjago x Project Sekai Nightcord swap.

Hey guys, I worked hard to make sure I kept most of the character's traits present, while coinciding with N25's main story. It would mean a lot if you stopped by to read a bit!!

Harumi Yoisaki

"This isn't right. Maybe if I…? Yes, that works."

My name is Harumi Yoisaki. I am a digital composer.

I would be a second year student of high school, but I do not go to school. I live by myself and complete online courses. My parents used to work in music.

I work in a group. We meet every night on our night chat, Spinjitzu. Ever since my parents were hospitalized I promised to keep doing what they did.

I don't live in a very roomy apartment. I barely pay the rent. Sometimes I will forget to eat.

But, I continue. Because I must compose.

I visit my parents sometimes. They don't wake up. They never will.

Because they are dead. And it's my fault.

So I continue. And the cycle will go on.I must compose.

Even though sometimes it's hard, I continue. Because this is my place. I will save someone.

I just need to keep composing. And soon…I will be able to save someone from the same fate as my parents.

They went out to drive…

"No. I will not think about it. I will keep going. I must save someone…

"My screen lit up.

"Hey Rue, I finished arranging that part for you. Do you want the demo?"

It was from L. He arranges my music and adds lyrics.

"Yes please," I wrote back. He sent the file, and I pressed play.

A harsh, but sweet melody flooded the room. The composition flowed smoothly with the arrangements L did.

"Thank you, L. It sounds good," I typed.

"I'm glad. I think I'm going to log off," he typed back.

So early? That's weird…"Get some sleep! You must be tired, but it sounds good though," typed Nyad.

"Yeah, I heard you had class tomorrow, so rest well," added PIX.

Nyad works with our other member, PIX. Nyad does the art while PIX does the editing.

We post songs and music videos on our shared account, S25. Usually I get slightly more of the cut we make due to my living situation, but I still make sure to give them the amount they deserve too.

We've never met each other face to face, but I find joy in working with the three of them.

Even with that, I'm not doing this for fun.

I must compose.

Lloyd Asahina

I logged off the computer.

I am Lloyd Asahina, a second year high school student.

I glanced at the sheet of music on my desk, then the workbook that’s shoved to the floor.

Guess I should do that then, huh?

I slowly and miserably picked up the book from the ground, then placed it on my desk.

But I couldn't open it.

I didn't want to open it.

But I had to, didn't I?

I had to.

I ended up finishing the notes and assignments I was supposed to take next week.

Hopefully that will be enough…

My mother called from the hallway. "Lloyd? Are you still awake?"

"Yeah. Just finishing some things for next week," I said.

She softly opened the door. "Good. I don't want you being all caught up with those people online again. You know what happened last time. You're so talented and gifted, and I want the best for you… okay?"

It's hard to fight with her. I gave up a long time ago. Now I only hide.

"Yes, mom," I replied.

My mother is Dr. Misako Asahina. She is one of the most famous and world renowned doctors in the world. She has no interest in music, and expects me to take a similar career to her.

But I don't know what I want to do. I don't know who I am.

What do I want to be…?

But I continue to do whatever she says. I don't know why. I just can't defy her, no matter how hard I want to.

I'm supposed to be the best for everyone around me. Why stop now…?

I haven't known myself for a long time now. It's nothing new to feel like this.I can't help it. I still hate it.

But if that's the case, why can't I leave it…?Deep down, I knew the truth.I could not escape.

I have been forever alone.

I hate it.

I hate myself.

I have lost who I am.

Nya Shinonome

For forever, I have wanted to become an artist.

I have many names.

Nya Shinonome, for one.

But I can also be Kai’s sister, a little girl, the loner, etc.

I am all of them.

Yet I am none of what I want to be.

I do not go to school during the day.

I have never been able to choose my own path.

When I try, I am constantly told I’m not good enough.

I should give up.

I should stop trying.

I am not talented.

I am not valued.

But I persevere.

My destiny should be what I make. Not what anyone else says. I will be good enough. I can be good enough.

But am I really?

Yes, I always tell myself.

As I tell myself this again, I get a text message from PIX in the chat.

“Hey Nyad, can I see the storyboard you were working on for the next song?”

I quickly sent her the progress I’d made so far. “Here.”

“Thanks! You’re so talented, I’d never be like you,” she responded.

That made me feel a bit better.

Sometimes it does get hard.

Sometimes I feel like I can’t do anything right.

Sometimes I feel completely and utterly useless.

Sometimes I just feel like I want to disappear.

It’s the worst feeling in the world.

But I need to prove everyone who doubted me wrong.It doesn’t matter who tells me I can’t do it.

My parents, my teachers, my brother, none of them.

I will pursue my dream.

Even if it means I’ll have to fight all the doubts clouding my head.

Pixal Akiyama

I sighed.

Everyone else had logged off already.

What do I do now..?

I looked at my bag and remembered the schoolwork due next week.

"I really don't want to do that right now…"

I tried to ignore it and started working on the new music video. My name is Pixal Akiyama. I am a first year high school student.

I use my friend Nyad's art in edits for Rue and L's songs. Lately my inspiration has been lacking. I'm not sure why.

School life isn't much better either. It's been a while since I've talked to Sora… I noticed an influx in people calling me names and avoiding me too. I'm always excluded and made fun of.

I don't know why.

I miss my dad…

My dad is Cyrus Akiyama, a clothing designer with a very different approach to styles. He moved away to work for his company a few months ago.

I haven't had many people to talk to recently.

I miss talking.

It's been so long…

I miss having people to confide in. To run to. To trust.

No one accepts me. And no one will.

I am alone. Forever and ever.

[writingmochi]

cast: txt all members & enhypen hyung line ✗ fem.reader

synopsis: an anthology series for txt and enhypen; a love letter from the author to “loveless”, my bloody valentine, and the shoegaze genre

genre: variative for each member

based on: music my bloody valentine’s “loveless” album (1991)

message from the moon: do remember that this is fiction and all the actions the idols do in these works do not reflect what they are in the real world. this is a non-priority anthology so all stories are standalone, won't have any schedule for deadlines, and will be written on my availability! also, noted that the infos written below aren't the final one so i can add/subtract anything.

i had this on the back burner for almost a year now, but i want to create hype (for others and myself) since this has been in my wip from the moment i posted it and since i have the desire to write the stories…

taglist? right here

writing order? here’s the poll result!

only shallow

cast: rebel!sunghoon ✗ outcast!fem.reader

synopsis: watching the goonies on vhs in the corner behind a counter, you are working your night shift in a gas station in the center of downtown. head tilts up from the chiming bell, you see your school’s rebel and his red ford mustang behind him, a smirk on his face as you roll your eyes

genre: kinda enemies to lovers, 80s au, high school au,

warning(s): tba

inspired by: a bit of movie dazed and confused (1993) and the breakfast club (1985)

loomer (visualizer) • an entry for equinox: the escapist

cast: jay ✗ fem.reader

synopsis: jay has always been a loomer, an introvert, and an outsider in a group of people others presumed are bad. looming in the shadows in the corner of the parties full of drinks, drugs, and sex, only can be seen with the flamed blunt of his cigarette in the dark. out of the blue, an orange flame is ignited in the dark corner, creating a silhouette of another person, another loomer, standing beside him

genre: lonely people in neon cities, drama, romance, early 00s au, bad boy au, angst, mature content (consumption of drugs, explicit smut)

warning(s): tba

inspired by: movie fallen angels (1995) and millennium mambo (2001)

when you sleep

cast: hueningkai ✗ fem.reader

synopsis: a soulmate's connection can be different for each of them. kai’s connection to his soulmate comes every time he sleeps: when he relieved the highlights of the day that isn’t his, but his soulmate’s. kai didn’t like that his friend ask him to go on a double date with their soulmate and their friend. yet, the date doesn’t seem to be that bad

genre: soulmate au, college/uni au

warning(s): tba

i only said (visualizer) • an entry for discovery: 400 and solstice: a comeback story!

cast: soobin ✗ fem.reader

synopsis: as you stood on the crowded train while making eye contact with the boy from the neighboring school. light shines into the dim train car as it becomes empty and filled with sand. approaching you is a humanoid figure, who calls you the king and queen of viliya—the island kingdom that is plagued with nightmares that haunt its people which you and the boy are also not immune to

genre: two lost souls find comfort, silent lovers, magical realism, meet ugly, hurt/comfort, adventure, thriller, coming of age, romance, high school au, late 2010s au, modern royalty au, angst, fluff, mature content (phobias, trauma, war, explicit smut)

warning(s): tba

inspired by: music my bloody valentine's "i only said" (1991), txt's 2019-2020 star seekers music videos ("nap of the star", "magic island", "eternally"), and movies bridge to terabithia (2007) and tigers are not afraid (2017)

come in alone

cast: drummer!jake ✗ videographer!fem.reader

synopsis: the crowd cheers as you watch from the sideline from behind your camera, the band closing their shows for the night as they have to prepare for their next stop. a whistle can be heard as you see the drummer standing against the doorframe, waiting for you to be tangled in his arm. that is until your past haunts you in one of the shows

genre: band au, tour au, acquaintances with benefits

warning(s): traumatic experience

sometimes

cast: rogue chaebol!beomgyu ✗ supermodel!fem.reader

synopsis: flashes of lights filled the dark void as you run the runway for the last time in your show in italy. what you didn’t see is a man whose importance people knew, hidden in the crowd as he looks at the glitz and glamour. only then do you see him in your sight as you sit in the back alley of the after-party, in solace as you join into an adventure you never expected to go

genre: existentialism, travel au, runaways, set in italy

warning(s): tba

inspired by: movie lost in translation (2003) with a tinge of call me by your name (2017)

blown a wish

cast: taehyun ✗ fem.reader

synopsis: the eighteenth birthday is the one that you’ve been excited about since you enter high school. so excited that you even bought a candle set from one to 18 in counting down the days to your birthday, each candle represents a wish you want to achieve by 18. with taehyun beside you, surely you can achieve all your wishes, right? ...right?

genre: magical realism, romantic comedy

warning(s): tba

inspired by: movie 16 wishes (2010)

what you want

cast: heeseung ✗ fem.reader

synopsis: sweats trickle down your forehead as you look at the track before you. all the training and hardships have come to this but you have an underlying thought crossing through your mind. is it worth it?

genre: drama, rivals to ???, athlete au

warning(s): tba

inspired by: movie i, tonya (2017)

soon

cast: dance prodigy!yeonjun ✗ dance amateur!fem.reader

synopsis: a mirror wall resides on one side of the practice room you’re in. stretching your stiff body, you overcome yourself to follow your interest after a long time. dancing. not knowing that the room was actually bigger as there is someone on the other side of the mirror, looking and wanting to guide you to your glory

genre: dancer au, mystery

warning(s): tba

inspired by: the phantom of the opera meets movie step up (2006)

taglist: @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @haechanswaifu @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @stayzentiny @rebsmoonn @boba-beom @angelbythewindow @ttyunz @reallysmolrenjun

© writingmochi on tumblr, 2021-2024. all rights reserved

[fandomshatepeopleofcolor]

Legally Blonde is another movie just like the Barbie movie I can't stand at all.I don't care how empowering or how revolutionary it is,I'll see it as white privilege and white feminism the movie.also I couldn't watch the movie for the second time because I found Elle Woods super annoying.

I actually have a soft spot for legally blonde because it came out when I was in high school and it was nice to see a stereotypically "dumb" girl get into a prestigious college for a master degree no less!!!

However even by the standards of the early 00's it was VERY WHITE. Like Reese Witherspoon doesn't seem like a bad celebrity but yeah that movie didn't even have token PoC given lines. Like ok I haven't seen it in years but I think the only poc were the asian ladies that Elle and her sorority sisters went to for mani/pedis. Oh and the latino pool boy that was fetishized. So yeah given that she supposed started out the story somewhere in Southern California (I guess LA? Maybe hollywood?) you'd expect her sorority sisters to have rushed at least a few token PoC.

I will say one thing tho. Like ok when I read Michelle Obama's Becoming I got a feel for what it was like for Black students in Princeton (Legally blonde mostly takes place in Harvard, specifically the law school) another Ivy League school. Now granted I can't remember if Michelle and Barack were there in the early 90's or the late 90s but I feel like we were definitely robbed of SOME students of color at an Ivy league school.

anyways yeah its shit.

mod ali

edit: Now I'm doubting myself and thinking Michelle and Barack were at Princeton in the late 80's... honestly I cannot do math.

[anarchywoofwoof]

It's funny about the homeschooling thing: I had friends who were homeschooled and I cannot express how badly many of us wish our parents had the means to do so.

I was sick so often (bad immune system, endometriosis before they had a term for it) we had to go to court to defend ourselves for "truancy." I had straight A's. When I was there, I swept the tests. But they want you there in person, or else.

To not have had to wait in the cold or blazing heat without gear because poor and our parents had to be at work at 6am......

I know there are plenty of parents not cut out for it or who weren't trained and would give a subpar education, but wouldn't it be great if as humans we had so much time on our hands that we COULD?

Like every adult had so much time they could educate themselves on at least one or two subjects until a little human comes around and then Get Excited to tell them!! About the thing they learned!! Some adults really like space, some love crochet or woodworking - to see all your teachers (adults in your community) passionate about subjects and to have the freedom to express your own like or dislike or take breaks when you need to without judgement? To work at your own pace?? God I want for that future. Also tech can cut down on infections/flu and illness spreading because idiot schools INSIST on keeping 100's of students locked into tiny rooms with poor ventilation. Our school wouldn't let us open the windows during the heat of summer. Because reasons?? Note, we didn't have air conditioning.

thanks for sharing this.

so here's the thing: although i was homeschooled (really, more "no schooled" than anything), i was able to teach myself on the internet. when i was growing up, the internet was just really taking off (jesus christ i feel old saying that) and it enabled me to really just kind of teach myself whatever i wanted. so as i grew older, i grew more resourceful, more digitally literate and crafted my own education.

now the downside to this is that if you want to go into a highly-skilled field or something like science, mathematics, etc. that kind of thing is hard to pull off in a home setting.

for instance, i had absolutely no science "classes" during my school life because the amount of equipment and knowledge needed is far surpassed what my truck driver father and leasing agent mother could provide

keep in mind, i didn't have tutors. i didn't have in-house teachers. it was my fucking dad teaching me between his time working from 3 PM to 1 AM and my mom checking my homework when she remembered and after she got home from work at 5 PM. most days, i didn't have "school." i slept in and did whatever i wanted throughout the rest of the day. luckily, i was addicted to knowledge regardless, so it all worked out for me.

i'm not opposed to the idea of homeschooling, i should stress this. i won't necessarily go to the extremes of calling it child abuse or something like that. but i do think it's wise to remember that a school has entire staff dedicated to teaching your child and that perhaps it takes some hubris to assume you can fulfill your kids learning needs the same way that a staff of (hopefully) trained professionals can.

i think homeschooling is more possible than ever in the current digital world that we occupy. but my parents definitely didn't have the time, money, patience or any other of the valuable resources that you need to teach a kid from 1st grade to their senior year of high school. especially in the late 90's, early 00's, which is when i grew up.

and the problem is often that most parents don't actually have these resources, but still think that they're more than capable of meeting all of those needs that i mentioned before. unfortunately, this ends up hurting their kid the most when they go out into the world with absolutely no clue how to function in it socially.

[kevinsreviewcatalogue]

Review: Thanksgiving (2023)

Thanksgiving (2023)

Rated R for strong bloody horror violence and gore, pervasive language and some sexual material

<Originally posted at https://kevinsreviewcatalogue.blogspot.com/2023/11/review-thanksgiving-2023.html>

Score: 3 out of 5

Thanksgiving is a movie that feels like a remake of itself. Specifically, a 2000s Platinum Dunes slasher remake, rather appropriately given that the film began life as a fake trailer for the 2007 film Grindhouse homaging the retro holiday slasher flicks of the '80s, with a mix of depraved and gory deaths, phenomenally stupid characters, and low-budget sleaze. It's an idea that has been bouncing around in director and co-writer Eli Roth's head for years, and even as he went on to make other movies, he never gave up on the idea of turning it into a feature film the way that Machete and Hobo with a Shotgun, two other fake trailers attached to Grindhouse, had been. The film he and co-writer Jeff Rendell ultimately made feels like a film that's ultimately, after sixteen years, wound its way from being an homage to '80s horror to being an homage to '00s horror, the decade in which Roth cut his teeth as a filmmaker, filled as it is with elements of that era's slasher flicks that now seem old enough to be nostalgic in their own right. It homages a lot of the trailer's more memorable scenes, but wraps them in a package that's at once darker and grittier but also slicker and more polished, with a big-name cast (a mix of veteran actors like Patrick Dempsey and Gina Gershon, Disney Channel stars like Milo Manheim, and influencers like Addison Rae) paired with exactly the kind of violence you'd expect from a filmmaker who was once considered one of the leading figures behind the "Splat Pack" of ultraviolent 2000s horror movies. Most importantly, it's a movie I enjoyed, even if I'll be the first to admit that it's no classic, or one of Roth's best. It's a fairly by-the-numbers whodunit teen slasher cut from a very post-Scream cloth that doesn't have a lot of surprises, but does have some solid thrills and chills that I suspect are gonna ensure that it gets rewatched a fair bit by horror fans around the Thanksgiving holiday.

Set in Plymouth, Massachusetts, the film opens with a Black Friday riot at RightMart instigated by a mix of the store's owner Thomas Wright deciding to open early on Thanksgiving night and a group of teenagers, including Thomas' daughter Jessica, managing to sneak in early and provoke the crowd outside when they see them. Three people die in the ensuing stampede, a security guard, a shopper, and the wife of the store's manager, while the high school baseball team's star pitcher Bobby gets his arm broken, killing his sporting dreams. One year later, a killer in a Pilgrim costume and a mask of the Plymouth Colony's first governor John Carver is hacking up people connected to the "FightMart" riot, on a quest for revenge. Now, the teens, along with the local sheriff Eric Newlon, must figure out who's behind the murders before they're the next to die.

It's a simple slasher plot of a sort that we've seen a million times in the last twenty-five years, and it was honestly a fairly predictable one. The killer's identity is telegraphed pretty early on, it wasn't much of a surprise when the big reveal came, and the main plot was rather boilerplate once you scratch the surface. You've got a lot of archetypal teen horror movie stock characters (the aggro jock, the sexy best friend, the shifty boyfriend, the cool geek because it's 2023 and unpopular nerds don't work anymore, the girl who you know is gonna make it to the end and defeat the killer) who largely stay within their lane, as well as adult supporting cast members who are there to serve as cannon fodder and/or suspects. The plot involving the store's greedy management was established in the first act but never really built upon after. It's not altogether completely disposable from a writing standpoint, but this is still a teen slasher movie, and you don't watch these films for particularly in-depth plotting and characterization unless you see an A24 plate on the opening credits.

No, you watch because you want the goods. You want stabbings, decapitations, dismemberment, mutilations, and more, all vividly displayed on screen in ways that earn this movie an R rating. And when you've got the guy who made Cabin Fever and Hostel behind the camera, that's what you're gonna get. This movie comes alive when it's time to kill, and it doesn't care how ridiculous it gets with the bloodshed. The deaths range from the deadly serious to the awesome to the comical (one death in the opening Black Friday scene involving a man literally shopping 'til he dropped had me in stitches), but no matter what, when John Carver is doing what his name suggests, that's when it felt like Roth was most invested in the material. There's one lengthy chase scene late in the film, climaxing with one of its best and most gruesome kills, that I think is gonna go down as one of the classics. The gore is plentiful, and it is icky and gross.

The cast was surprisingly good for a movie like this. Nell Verlaque may not have had much of a character to work with as Jessica beyond "the final girl", but she did it well, in particular giving great "scared face" whenever she was confronted by the killer or realized that her friends were in danger. Patrick Dempsey made for a good authority figure as the sheriff, and if you're wondering how Addison Rae did, she actually wasn't bad. Finally, the actor playing the killer was wonderfully hammy after the big reveal, and I wouldn't have accepted anything less given the kind of movie this was, delivering the most ridiculous dialogue ("this Thanksgiving, there will be no leftovers!") with the straightest face without even once winking at the camera. On every technical level, this movie was at the very least competent, and never wore out its welcome.

The Bottom Line

Thanksgiving could've stood to have a bit more meat on its bones story-wise in order to make the parts between the kills more interesting, but the kills were plentiful and grisly enough, and its other qualities competent enough, that I could forgive it. Even if it's just from lack of competition, I see this sticking around as a go-to Thanksgiving/Black Friday horror flick.

[seancamerons]

as far 90s shows, did anyone watch any of these:

teen angel it was like on after sabrina or something during the tgif era of the 90s? i found it lowkey funny, idk if it was like shortlived i assume that, but idk if it was good or cringey? i think it was only on for one or two at the most seasons, i remember he would literally talk to the moon/stars/god but also like have teenager hijinks

smart guy as it is, a smart guy. young kid maybe 10 years old in college, skiped grade school/high school and is now in college with his dumb brother. i think it was on disney channel.

my brother and me a two season show on nickelodeon in the 90s, i don't remember that much about it tbh, just that it existed and i know i watched it but idk if it held my attention. it seemed run of the mill early nickeloeon two brothers, their friends and random things that would happen like in the style of most of the shows of the time.

gulah gulah island a show about a family and a large amphibian friend of their family on a island (where is gulahgulah?) i was able to do a killer impression of the pollywog. i would make a garden bc the mom had one in the summer before kindergarten and i would sing plant a seed in my garden, my garden my garden plant a seed in my garden watch it grow 🎶 i still if i hear it on a nostalgic video sing the theme. i found out the husband and wife are an actual couple irl earlier this year, and simeon (sp?) and shayna i think was their child biologically. the other two kids were hired to be their other kids, the one daughter was on keenan and kel as far as i know. she played keenan's sister who crushed on kel after gulah gulah ended.

pete and pete a show in the 90's quirky as all get out. good music, good vibes, a child with a beautiful mermaid tattoo and more questions than answers tbh. the mom had a plate in her head, thee dad was oblivious, speaking of oblivious the next show:

the secret world of alex mac yet another 90's show, about a girl with a secret, which the theme gives you the run down, alex is not average in the slightest. i loved that show and people often forget all about it.

so let's just say everyone knows sabrina, but do they remember clarissa? if you don't know, clarissa explains it all. i think there were a few things she didn't know about, or left out. clarissa was the effortlessly cool girl, but she was also painfully average and her brother reminded her of that, much to her chargrin. from her cool ass bedroom, her boy bestie sam who'd climb in the window via ladder, and she nonchalantly greeted him with a friendly, "hi sam!", her weird ginger brother who was like a 'genius' but a jerk at the same time, her descriptions and slideshows about things she'd explain in detail at length, her dated little computer, her pet in the sandbox and a lot more things i forgot or are self-explanatory. na na nanna, nananananaana, hey cool!

doug if he's not bangin' on a trashcan, blasting killer tofu, arguing with his parents, clashing with his thespian sister, in the company of a blue dog named after dinner parents cook and kids love to hate, beefing with a rival in a leather jacket with a cat sidekick, or with mayor's stuck up daughter, surrounded by random kids with quirky names and dining a cool hangout called the honker burger he was writing in a journal or dreaming of fake worlds that are anything but normal. he was doug was one of the defining guys in 90s cool back in the day, he was cool bc he wasn't a showboat or an over confident or arrogant guy like chalky studebaker at times, or green-skinned rival roger who came off like a coward internally but tough and had an obnoxious laugh on the outside. he 's a guy in middle school with tensions with the principal, a total everyman with a big imagination who wrote his dreams, thoughts, and hopes in a journal, crushed on his girl next door/the show essential 'good girl' patti mayonnaise and of course, he had a loyal bestie skeeter. if it were 99-the 00s it was the spongebob/patrick dynamic, and even doug had an alter ego which was quail man. i believe the original story of doug, he was new to town and he came to be fast friends with skeeter, and quick enemies with their principal who always threatened him to put things on his permanent record, which i was afraid of when it was time for me to go to school when it came to going to the office for anything tbh.

[ciaossu-imagines]

dont know if my prev ask got deleted, but i sent in a smut request for shouhei/reader/eric threesome 👀 -shoheiakagi

Chitose’s parties, when he decided to throw them, were always the stuff of legends but this one…even you had to admit this party was absolutely insane, though in the best of ways. There were people everywhere you look, everyone was having fun, letting loose. The music was loud, always catchy, always something that made you want to move your body. The alcohol was plentiful, and you weren’t even ashamed to admit you were very drunk by this point in the party. You’d just come back into the party after going outside to have a cigarette with Fujishima and Dewa. The cigarette had turned into smoking a blunt, then another cigarette, with lots of chatter and laughter and more than a few beers being downed in quick successions.

                But it had been fucking cold out, especially since you’d come dressed as cute as you could in a thin-strapped tank and a little mini-skirt. Maria had dared you, while out on one of your shopping trips together, to try the outfit on, and she had declared you to look positively sinful in it. She’d put a lot of pressure on you to wear it tonight for the party, and though you’d been initially uncomfortable with the idea, since the outfit was a lot more revealing than what you normally worse, you knew you looked damn good and you were really feeling yourself, growing more and more confident in yourself especially as the amount of alcohol and weed you’d consumed grew. It just, as it turned out, was not the right kind of outfit for hanging out outside with your friends and you’d excused yourself by saying you were heading to go grab some more drinks, since the three of you had run through the beers they’d brought out pretty quickly.

                So, you’d gone back into the house, weaving your way through the throngs of people chattering, drinking, getting high, just all having a good time. In your pleasant, blissed out state, you were barely aware of your body moving along to the music, some catchy, gotta dance to tune about witches or something. You did pause just long enough to laugh at the change in music from the early ‘00’s club crap to this. The music had been all over the place tonight, though always good, and you had the momentary thought, not for the first time that night, that Chitose had made the correct choice in letting Totsuka really control the music.

                You thought you remembered where the drinks were being kept, but it still took you a while to kind of stumble across them again. You kept getting stopped, pulled into conversations, offered drinks or cigarettes or blunts, and you weren’t going to be rude and not talk or partake or party it up, both with friends you knew well and even some of the people you were either just acquaintances with or barely knew. It seemed to be widely agreed upon though that everyone was having a great time, and the party was amazing.

                You’d spotted, on your way to the kitchen, Shouhei and Eric sitting on one of the couches in the area and you had made a mental note to go and sit with them. Sure, your original plan had been to find a coat, head back out, chill with Dewa and Fuji and whoever else had made their way out there, with the thrum of music in the background and a more peaceful atmosphere, but that plan had been put right out of your head when you saw them. You’d always had a pretty massive crush on Shouhei, even back in high school when you’d first met him, and both he and Eric were your favourite people. You liked all of the HOMRA guys, really had fallen in well with all of them and adored them, but yeah…Shouhei and Eric? Getting to hang out with them, you never passed that opportunity up. I mean, not only were they fantastic company, but both boys were amazing eye candy.

                You found your way into the kitchen, planning on grabbing some drinks and making your way quickly to them. You ended up getting distracted though, Kamamoto and Yata and the crowd in the kitchen really dragging you in on their fun. You hung out there for about half an hour without even meaning to, talking, and laughing, drinking, and having a good time. By the time you’d remembered what you’d been meaning to do, by the time you’d filled your arms up with a couple cans of beer, some alcoholic sweet and fruity coolers, you were worried that you’d have missed Shouhei and Eric. Well, maybe less so Eric. Eric loved a good party as much as the rest of you did, but he either tended to stick with the other boys and get into trouble or cause some kind of scene, or he found himself a comfortable spot and just kind of camped there, enjoying himself in his own way. But Shouhei? It was definitely a distinct possibility that you would have missed your chance to really sit and hang out with Shouhei. The boy was always all over the place, always finding something and someone to amuse himself.

                 So, you were a little pleasantly surprised, and honestly super happy, to discover both of them still where you’d last seen them. You bopped along to whatever song was playing as you made your way to the couch, where, carefully juggling the cans in your arm, you plopped down in between them on the couch with a cheerful cry of their names.

                “Shouhei! Eric! How’s the night going?”

                Shouhei laughed as the couch jostled a little bit under you and returned your greeting.

                “Hey y/n! Was wondering if you had even come. I haven’t seen you all night. Did’cha just get here?”

                “Nah, been around all night. Just hanging around here and there, ya know.”

                “Getting into trouble?”

                “Of course,” you laughed.

                “That’s my girl!”

                “No surprise we haven’t seen you,” you heard Eric mutter. “Place is crowded as fuck.”

                “Hey, just means Chitose’s party is a real hit this time. Everyone’s having fun too, right?”

                You watched Eric just kind of shrug his shoulders, looking around with a half-bored, half-petulant look on his face.

                “Aww, don’t act like you haven’t been having fun, man,” Shouhei teased the other boy, reaching his arm around your shoulders to lightly punch Eric’s shoulder. Even when he was done, you noticed Shouhei didn’t remove his arm from around you, something that made you almost giddy with happiness, though you did your best not to show it.

                You joined in instead in Shouhei’s teasing of Eric, who countered and bantered back good-naturedly with the two of you. It was cute and fun, and you were enjoying yourself, though Shouhei was quicker at the barbs than you were…though you finally saw a good opportunity to get a little zinger in there.

                “I just don’t like people,” Eric had said, putting on his patented (in your mind) surly Eric expressions, though you could see the smile lurking around the corners of his mouth that Shouhei and you were bound and determined to bring to the surface.

                “That hurts, man,” Shouhei said.

                “Yeah, Eric! Are you saying you don’t like me?” you teased him, leaning into him a bit, and locking your eyes with him.

                He stared back at you, almost seeming to study you, eyes narrowing. His gaze broke from your eyes, drifting down to the cans that were still in your lap.

                “Depends. Can I have one of those beers?”

                You laughed, shaking your head, and Shouhei followed Eric’s gaze down to your lap as well, seeming to notice the stockpile of alcohol you had brought along.

                “Depends,” you countered back to Eric. “Can ya’ll help me out by getting these off my lap and onto the table?”

                Shouhei’s laughter was so close to your ear as he leaned in and started grabbing a can, while Eric just nodded and started grabbing as well.

                “Then of course you can have a beer.”

                “Then fine. I like ya,” Eric muttered, catching your eyes once again as he grabbed and opened the last can of beer from your lap, and this time you definitely saw the smile there.

                You were about to say something back, but your attention was grabbed by the sound of Shouhei’s voice and your eyes went back to him.

                “Course you like her. Everyone likes her. Hard not to, right?” he said, winking and grinning at you.

                You laughed, rolling your eyes, but your laughter hiccupped a little as Shouhei handed you a can of alcohol and you noticed that his eyes were roaming, intently studying you from head to toe and back again, lingering on your legs, your exposed midriff, your chest before settling on your face again.

                “Damn girl,” he said with a wicked grin. “You’re looking awful good tonight, you know? Ain’t never seen you all dressed up like that before.”

                “Trying to impress anyone in particular?” you heard Eric drawl, and you tossed your hair, shaking your head and laughing before you popped open the can, downing it as quick as you could. The boys continued their teasing, which then turned to other tangents and conversations and the three of you sat there, laughing, talking, drinking. While you’d definitely been having a great night before you’d sat down, it occurred to you that this was actually the most fun you’d had during the night. Something about being with them? It was absolutely amazing, and you felt like you were on cloud nine. Of course, the heavy drinking and the weed you’d smoked earlier was definitely helping your blissed out, relaxed, ecstatic state.

                It was only helped even more by Shouhei reaching into one of his coat pockets, pulling out a cigarette case. The only thing left in it was a large, expertly rolled blunt, though you knew Shouhei enough to know he had probably started the night out with more than the one in there.

                “Got a light?” Shouhei asked. You shook your head, but Eric was quick to pass one over you and you noticed that, despite the fact it would have been easy enough not to do, Eric’s arm brushed against your breasts while doing so….but nah, that probably wasn’t on purpose. All of you were wasted, it was probably just a mistake. Felt nice though. Felt really nice, you had to admit, stretching a little on the couch. Shouhei passed the blunt to you, which you happily accepted.

                “Pass it along to Eric when you’re done and we’ll just do a puff puff pass situation, yeah?” Shouhei said with a smile.

                You cocked your head a bit, looking at Shouhei quizzically before turning a confused look to Eric.

                “But Eric never smokes during parties, right? Did you start?” you asked Eric.

                “Nah, I’m cool. I’ll take another drink though.”

                You shrugged and smiled, passing Eric another beer. You and Shouhei shared the blunt, the three of you finishing up the liquor while you did. Your head was spinning a little, but in the most pleasant of ways. You were leaning on Eric, almost cuddled into him, but you could feel Shouhei’s arm still around the back of you on the couch, his fingers teasing along your neck, playing with strands of your hair.

                “Shit, out of alcohol,” Eric muttered as he pressed himself against you, leaning over you a little to get a good look at the table. God, he smelled good, you suddenly realized.

                You pouted, making a little displeased sound and Shouhei laughed. The sound came again, unbidden, as Shouhei’s arm and the feeling of his fingers on your skin disappeared as he popped up from the couch.

                “Can’t have that,” Shouhei said, laughing. “I’ll go grab us some more. Any requests?”

                You and Eric both told Shouhei what you wanted, though Eric was mostly just any alcohol and lots of it. Both you and Eric relaxed into each other, waiting for Shouhei to get back. You shifted on the couch, moving into a more comfortable position. When Shouhei got back with the liquor, setting it all on the table, he found you half-laying on Eric, your head and upper shoulders on the armrest of the couch, Eric’s arm draped over you. His arm was half on your breast, fingers drawing slight circles on your stomach. You grinned happily up at Shouhei as he sank back down onto the couch, tossing your legs up over his lap to get fully comfortable.

                “Beer me?” you asked with a little pout which quickly broke into a smile.

                “Anything for you,” Shouhei said with a laugh, handing you a can. “Eric?”

                Another can was passed and the three of you were settling back into your happy chatter and drinking. It was with you all in this state that Chitose came across you three, his hand holding that of a petite, busty, pretty little blond.

                “Well don’t you all look like you’re having fun,” he drawled out, tipping a wink at the boys that made you roll your eyes.

                The boys and Chitose made some chatter as you relaxed and popped open another can. You sized up the blond Chitose was with. Your mind wandered here and there, and you tried to think of how you’d cheer Maria up. She was going to be so pissed at Chitose for this, as she’d really been hoping the two of them would get back together. They were always on and off and you really did feel like you should be thinking about more ways to cheer her up when she inevitably came to sob on your shoulder, but you couldn’t really stay focused on your thoughts. Your body just felt so lovely, you kept focusing on Eric’s fingers on your skin, Shouhei’s relaxed posture, one of his arms along the back of the couch, the other arm down, one hand splayed on your bare calf, where the skin almost seemed to tingle under his touch. It was delicious, almost a sign to everyone around you that for tonight at least, these two boys had claimed you for theirs.

                “Yeah, I’m just about to go show Suzi here the pool-house. You know, where all the hauntings are said to be,” Chitose was saying, staring pointedly at the boys and you, urging you to go along with it.

                “Yeah, I’m really into all that spiritual stuff. I’m kind of clairvoyant so when Chitose told me this place is haunted, I knew I couldn’t skip the party. We’re going to go have a séance,” Suzi trilled out, her voice slow and drawling and kind of valley girlish. God did Chitose know how to pick them. What he could see in this chick over your best friend, you did not know. But you went along with it all, as did the boys because who were you to ruin someone’s night? Not when yours was going so beautifully.

                “Well, we’re going to head on out now,” Chitose said, wrapping his arm around Suzi’s waist, settling his hand on her hip, and getting ready to guide her away. “Ya’ll enjoy the party…anything you guys need before we leave?”

                “More drinks would be cool,” Eric muttered, staring at the once again empty table.

                “Oh, I can grab you guys a couple. You stay here and talk to your friends for a couple more minutes, okay hun?” Suzi said, smiling almost worshipfully up at Chitose for a second before she headed off, her hips swaying way more than was natural and you snickered at how hard this girl was trying to seduce Chitose. Oh, if only she knew how easily the boy gave it up.

                You couldn’t resist taking the piss out of Chitose a little and the four of you fell into a bunch of meaningless chit-chat, just shooting the shit. While Chitose could be a lot of things, he was a good host though and when Shouhei mentioned that the two of you had smoked his last blunt, Chitose pulled out his own cigarette case.

                “One for you, one for little miss gorgeous there,” Chitose said, smirking at you. “Gotta make sure all the pretty ladies enjoy their time here at casa Chitose, after all.”

                “You mean Casa Dewa where Chitose freeloads off him, don’t you?” Eric said. Sure, it came off mean and harsh, but it was a common joke for the boys and Chitose laughed and shrugged it off as he always did, playfully swatting at Eric.

                “Hey, there. Is someone pissed that I didn’t give him one? I know you don’t smoke with us at these things there, bud. If you want though, I’m pretty sure Kamamoto’s got some shrooms left. He was making a pizza with them in the kitchen, I can get Suz to grab you a slice.”

                “I fucking hate mushrooms,” Eric replied, crinkling up his nose. “Taste like asshole.”

                “You would know. But if that’s not doing it for you, I also got these.”

                You watched, kind of curious, as Chitose reached into his pants pocket and pulled out what looked like a prescription bottle. When he popped it open, it was full of brightly candy-coloured pills. You weren’t one to judge and mostly just focused on Suzi’s arrival with more alcohol as Chitose shook a couple blue pills, imprinted with the word ‘sky’ on them, into Eric’s hand.

                “Well, we’re heading out now. Have fun guys and, dudes,” Chitose said, pointing first at Shouhei and then at Eric, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

                “Well, that doesn’t rule out much,” Eric muttered with a laugh as the three of you watched Chitose leave. That turned into the three of you riffing on Chitose, turned into time that went so slow but so fast. The alcohol was consumed, pills taken, blunts smoked and your head reeled a little. All you could think about, all you could focus on was the sound of their voices, how beautiful they both were, the feel of Erics’s fingers sneaking up under the hem of your shirt, his other hand playing with your hair, drifting along the curve of your ear. The feel of Shouhei’s hand rubbing, back and forth along your leg.

                Before you could even really comprehend what all was going on, what you were doing, you were leaning up, capturing Eric’s lips while Shouhei’s fingers slipped above the hem of your skirt, caressed the skin of your inner thigh.

                Shouhei’s voice was the thing to interrupt what had turned into hesitant, but rough, continuous kisses with Eric, the way you squirmed under Shouhei’s touch.

                “Ya know, with Chitose out in the pool house with blondie, that leaves his bedroom pretty open. Why don’t we go have our own little private party in there, what do you two say?”

                Now, how was a girl supposed to pass that up? You took his hand, allowing him to guide you through the crowd and up the stairs. Your head spun like crazy, your legs didn’t seem to fully cooperate but your whole body burned with need, and you couldn’t remember wanting anything more than you’d wanted anybody else. Eric had gone to grab you guys some more drinks but followed behind the two of you.

                Eric shut Chitose’s bedroom door with his foot, staring wide-eyed and flushed at where you and Shouhei had already collapsed onto the bed. Shouhei was beside you as you leaned back on the bed, his mouth kissing its way along your neck as you moaned softly.

                “Starting without me?” Eric said, and he honestly sounded a little annoyed, something Shouhei was quick to pick up on.

                “Don’t worry, just getting her warmed up,” he said. “You’re definitely needed in here, man. Isn’t that right, y/n?” Shouhei said, his tone turning teasing and low, his breath warm against your ear as he caught your earlobe lightly in his teeth. You giggled a little, nodding and reaching out for Eric.

                “Come party with us!” you said in between giggles as Shouhei nipped and kissed along your jaw, your neck, hitting all your ticklish spots.

                Eric was quick to set the liquor on the top of Chitose’s dresser, pulling off his hoodie before he joined you and Shouhei on the bed. After that, you kind of lost track of things. You were kissing Eric, then Shouhei, tongues tangling, the sensations sending heat through your body. You shut your eyes, losing yourself in the moment, only knowing who was kissing you by their taste, by the feel of their kisses. Shouhei’s were soft, teasing, almost playful. Eric’s were rough, needy, his hands always ending up in your hair. You could feel their hands touching you, Eric’s surprisingly gentle and hesitant despite the urgency he kissed you with, while Shouhei’s were confident as they made their way across your skin.

                Your eyes fluttered open again as Eric started kissing along your neck, sucking at the delicate skin there. He’d pull back every couple of kisses, examining your neck intently and by the smirk on his face, he was more than happy with the reddened skin that he knew would bruise into visible love-bites. His mouth trailed along your neck, your collarbones, leaving hot kisses just above the neck of your tank top and you let yourself drink in how good that felt, how turned on you were getting as you leaned your head back to kiss Shouhei.

                Eric’s hands were up by your shoulders now as you and Shouhei made out, dragging the thin little straps of fabric down to your elbows and you willingly slid your arms up and out of the straps, letting the fabric collect around your waist. Shouhei’s hands were already sneaking up your back, tickling slightly in their feather light touches and you giggled, breaking a kiss before he hungrily stole your mouth back. His fingers were skillful, confident. The boy sure knew what he was doing, the strapless bra you’d been wearing unhooked in what seemed the blink of an eye and Eric was quick to whip it across the room.

                Now it was Shouhei’s mouth on your neck, his hands pushing your skirt up. His fingers teased along the waistband of your panties, and you slid your legs apart, letting him slide his hand down into them. You moaned as Eric’s mouth kissed along the swell of your breasts, your fingers coming up to bunch in his hair as he turned his full attention on lavishing your tits with his mouth. His tongue licked and circled and flicked and felt so goddamn good. He’d go between teasing you with his tongue to suckling your nipples to letting his teeth graze and almost bite at your nipples just hard enough to make you squirm. Shouhei’s finger, meanwhile, had slid along your sopping folds, pushed inside them. He teased you, running his finger up and down your wetness repeatedly before he finally went to work teasing your clit.

                 You were so goddamn turned on, feeling amazing, and god you wanted these boys. Your own hand had reached behind you, stroking Shouhei through his jeans, your other drifting down from Eric’s hair to touch every bare inch of his skin that you could as you arched your back, legs shaking a little as the boys were driving you so damn close to an orgasm.

                “Uh-uh…not yet there. I want to taste you when you cum,” Shouhei’s voice was rough, raspy from his own need and both you and Eric somehow knew just what was needed next. In no time at all, Eric was sitting up against the headboard and you were on your hands and knees, doggy style on the bed, your head in his lap. You looked up at him and grinned before you set to work undoing his belt and then his pants. You’d gotten them unfastened, Eric’s bony hips rising up to let you pull them down about the time that Shouhei had your own panties lowered down to your knees.

                You heard but barely registered his naughty little comment about how very pretty your pussy was, though you sure registered the feeling of his tongue dragging along your folds. You set to work getting into a comfortable position for both you and Eric as you pulled down his boxers enough to free the half-erection he was sporting, and a very impressive one at that. Your mouth was moist enough and you half licked, half spit on your hand for lubrication before you wrapped it around Eric’s cock, beginning to stroke him into full hardness.

                Shouhei was really an expert at eating people out, switching between various ways of using his tongue on your clit. Sometimes he’d be circling around it, other times his tongue would flick at it, he’d suck at it, and it all felt so goddamn amazing that you could barely stand it. It didn’t help that he kept pulling away to groan about how goddamn delicious you tasted and how eagerly he dove back in. You took your queues from him and from Eric’s now fully hard cock and shallow breathes as you lowered your mouth to take Eric into it.

                Shouhei’s fingers were at your entrance, pushing their way inside you. First one, slow and steady, before he slid a second in to join it, his pace increasing as he continued to lick and suck at your clit. Your own tongue was laving circles around the head of Eric’s cock before you took him back in your mouth. One of your hands wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking him off as you took him shallowly into your mouth at first. He didn’t seem to have any complaints about it though, his head falling back and his mouth spewing occasional profanities.

                You came, quick and hard, around Shouhei’s fingers, Eric’s cock slipping from your mouth as you mewled out your pleasure. You were so lost in the orgasm and the few moments of post-orgasm bliss that you weren’t quite conscious of exactly what the boys had said to each other, but all you knew is that Shouhei had straightened up behind you, one of his hands coming to deliver a light, pleasurable spanking to first one ass cheek and then the next before his hands settled on your hips, pulling you back slightly. That gave Eric enough room to sit up properly, to kick off his pants and boxers. You heard the sound of a zipper and when you looked back to look at Shouhei, he was now fully naked too. You must have been looking quite intently too.

                “Haven’t you ever heard staring is impolite, darling?” Shouhei said, laughing as he crawled back onto the bed behind you, cutting your view of him. Instead, your eyes drifted back to Eric, or more precisely, Eric’s cock, which was now right in front of your face as he kneeled on the bed in front of you.

                “You two are just too damn gorgeous. Girl can’t help but look,” you slurred out, grinning happily.

                “You’re the gorgeous one,” you heard Eric mutter and your cheeks heated up, pleased by the compliment. You could feel Shouhei’s erection grinding up against your ass, his hands holding on to your hips, could feel Eric’s hands on the back of your head as if to beg you for more. And you were all too happy to oblige, taking him back into your mouth as you had before. You could feel Shouhei’s cock slide between your folds, could feel it slide against your clit a few times, sending pleasant little shockwaves from the sensitive nub before you felt it as a pressure against your tight little entrance.

                It didn’t take you too long to figure out that both hands were definitely needed to steady yourself on the bed as Shouhei drove his cock into you, filling you nice and deep. His pace was lazy, slow, and steady, but his actual thrusts came rough, jostling your entire body and Eric’s cock kept sliding deep into your mouth, almost threatening to gag you. Eric’s hands played with your hair, his hips moving a little, his cusses coming more frequently.

                You heard a sound, like flesh slapping against flesh, but coming from over top of you (where Shouhei and Eric had locked eyes and most definitely had high-fived), but quickly found your attention being distracted by the taste of precum and the approach of yet another orgasm for you.

                Neither you nor Eric were quite cumming yet though, as he pulled away from you.

                “Switch,” you heard him roughly toss out to Shouhei. “I wanna taste her too and not when you’ve filled her up.”

                You were moved, flipped around, ending up on your back on the bed. Eric replaced Shouhei between your legs, his head between them and he gazed almost reverently at you, his hands coming up to trail along your lower belly, along your thighs. Your own hand settled on Shouhei’s cock as he came to rest beside your head, stroking him gently at first. Your stroking of him came faster though as Shouhei’s hand reached down to tease your nipples, circling his fingers around them, pinching at them, flicking at them. Eric’s mouth descended on your pussy as if he hadn’t eaten in days. He didn’t have Shouhei’s technique but god, he shared the other boy’s eagerness.

                “Can’t blame him. You are delicious…you should taste yourself,” Shouhei said suggestively, moving your hand away from his cock and you knew what he wanted and were all too happy to oblige, taking his cock into your mouth. He let you suck him at your own speed, let you grow more and more confident in how deep you took him, how fast you went. You could tell how much he was enjoying it though, with that dirty mouth of his reining compliments on you.

                Eric pulled away, his fingers replacing his tongue on your clit, and it wasn’t long before you were cumming again, your moans creating little humming vibrations along Shouhei’s cock as you kept sucking him.

                “Shit, man, I don’t know if I can last much longer,” you heard him groan out.

                “No kidding. Now you know how I was feeling. She’s got quite the mouth on her, don’t she?”

                You felt Shouhei pull away, his cock falling from your mouth, but you were quickly distracted by Eric’s fingers sliding inside you. Apparently one orgasm from you was just not satisfactory, given the intensity he was staring at you with as he teased and played with you. Not that you minded, not one bit. But you were all distracted by the sensations, the pleasure, the third orgasm that you missed large portions of Shouhei and Eric’s conversation, catching just brief snippets here and there that your mind really refused to put into any coherent order.

                ‘Both at once…do you think she’d be okay…I mean we’d need lube though….dude, this is Chitose’s bedroom, I have no doubt there’s lube somewhere…”

                You whimpered at the loss of sensation as Eric’s fingers fell away and you opened your eyes to stare up at the two boys, who were both gazing down at you with need and want and some surprising tenderness. You saw a bottle of lube in Shouhei’s hand and he grinned at you.

                “We were thinking it would be fun if, ya know…”

                “Can we both have you?”

                “What do you mean?” you asked, your both alcohol-drunk and cum-drunk brain not really putting two and two together.

                “Well, we were wondering if you’d be cool if we played both holes, see if it would feel good for you.”

                “It’s cool if you say no, we’re enjoying this but would be fun.”

                Your brain finally caught up enough to figure out what they wanted, and your brain did take a second, though only a tiny one, to think about whether the idea appealed to you at all. Eric had been right though…would be fun is what your brain decided on and you were nodding empathically as you raised yourself up to your knees on the bed.

                “Yeah…yeah…how do you want me?”

                That question seemed to be the hard part as the boys rock-paper-scissored among themselves to figure who would be doing what but eventually you ended up hovering over Eric’s lap, his cock bigger than Shouhei’s, stretching you out just a bit more as you lowered yourself onto it. You could tell by his gritted teeth, the way he clenched his eyes shut that it was hard for him to hold back but hold back he did as you worked yourself down his cock little by little, thrust by thrust until you had finally taken him fully in you. You were so deliciously stretched out, whimpering in a newfound pleasure as Eric stilled your hips and Shouhei’s hand guided your upper body down so that you were leaning onto Eric’s chest.

                The coldness of the lube as you felt it drip down was shocking but not unpleasant at all and Shouhei was generous with it. You were practically a slip and slide and had gotten used to the feeling of Shouhei’s fingers getting your ass ready for him before you felt the head of his cock pressing against you.

                Both boys allowed you plenty of time, after your almost scream as Shouhei entered you, to get used to the sensation of being stretched out and filled completely. Once your body adjusted, you found the sensation different, a little painful, yeah. But mostly, mostly it felt a lot good at the same time and you were curious as to whether it would get to feel better. They let you squirm, moving your hips slowly, feeling both their cocks work shallowly in and out of your holes, before Eric stilled your hips with his hands. It was then that they allowed themselves to move.

                It took a couple tries, a little bit of getting used to, but the boys fell into a good rhythm, Eric’s thrusts fast and needy, Shouhei’s shallow and measured. God, yes…fuck, it really did start to feel so much better and pretty soon you couldn’t make a single coherent words, stuttered gasps and moans and attempts to beg them not to stop all that was coming out of your mouth.

                Your own orgasm was quickly approaching when you felt added warmth in your cunt, felt Eric tense, felt his thrusts start to come sloppy and more slowly and you felt a kind of swell of pride in knowing you’d made him feel so good, that he just hadn’t been able to hold back anymore and had filled you up. But god, you had so wanted that last orgasm…and you weren’t the only one who hadn’t been quite ready to stop.

                You watched Eric’s face intently, locked eyes with him briefly and drew him into a kiss he was moaning into as his whole body fell into the half-pain, half-pleasure state of overstimulation as Shouhei’s thrusts started coming harder now, bouncing you up and down on Eric’s cock for a couple more moments, just enough for you to cum, almost insanely hard, once more before you felt that warmth again, knew that Shouhei had reached his own orgasm.

                It was in the moments of post-orgasm bliss, all of you trying to catch your breath, neither man really wanting to pull out of you quite yet, that the door flew open. Both boys scrambled for a blanket, anything to hide you from the sight of whoever walked through the door, and you hid your suddenly burning face in Eric’s chest as a voice you knew all too well echoed in the room.

                “Seriously, you fucks. In my bed?? What the fuck? And you couldn’t even invite me to join?”

[invincible-selfxmade-punk]

TGIF

I think I crashed out around 9:00 and woke up just after midnight with my skin feeling like it was on fire, itching all over my body. I'm guessing that is the unreleased nerves and anxiety manifesting itself from the field trip and earlier in the day.

When I go see my doctor on the 31st-- and we have another school activity on the 31st that we have to attend. I guess they don't do trick or treating here anymore. I was kind of looking forward to handing out some candy but apparently not--- I'll leave school early for my doctor's appointment and then come back at 6:00 for the event.

Anyway I'm hoping to get some answers as to why this is happening( waking up for no reason with my skin itching off my body then no amount of scratching will help.).

A fellow teacher seems to think it is overactive nerves. I'm just worried about being put on more medication as I am on quite a bit of it for things that have been wrong for years -- meds that I have to take meds for to keep me alive and able to see.

I have lots of other smaller problems that I have been offered medication for in the past and refuse just because I don't want to keep taking more stuff for one and number two it's hard enough for me to remember to take medicine I already have that I absolutely have to take.

I was very surprised that the kids behaved themselves on the field trip and they did so well on the mural project even if a few of them really didn't get it because I had some very wonderful murals that had nothing to do with indians.

Grades are due today for report cards so I don't have to go back over the weekend or take anything home. I did all of my laundry and got groceries last week although it seems like I'm getting groceries every week because inflation is so high I get to the store and end up just never ever getting enough to last us through the week. But I guess I will just kick back and enjoy more horror movies this weekend.

On another note we don't ever have enough teachers where I am at and so when one is getting ready to take off on maternity leave they had to take the other social studies t-shirt to fill in for her and then put a substitute into social studies.

It turned out the man that got the substitute teaching job is our former vice principal and a retired military man who has lived everywhere and done everything and even worked with the Secret Service to help protect some presidents of the past. He is a wonderful man. He is very soft spoken yet firm and he and I get along great. And the fifth graders treat him like absolute s***. You would think maybe if they thought the other teacher was a pushover because she came from a private school they're having a military guy in would be a good solution. But no they don't care about him either and he has completely lost control of the last two period classes. So they are sending a second teacher in who would normally have a conference. At the end of the day to back him up to try to get the students under control.

This makes me so bad because he is such a genuinely good and decent man and if he worked his way up to principalship-- which he was principal of the middle school for a while and assistant principal for us, and if they refuse to listen to him they're just going to listen to anybody. That makes me feel slightly better about my experiences last year but still feel crappy for him.

[ohmy-venus]

Heyyy… long time no see! I’ve been meaning to finish and post this on ao3 for ages but work and college have gotten very much in the way of me finishing it, I decided I wanted to post this Fic here instead of letting it rot in my Google doc! If anyone wants me to continue it, I’d be more then happy to pick it back up! Anywho, I hope y’all enjoy!!

~This fic uses Y/N heavily but that may change in the future(if I pick it up again) Price is in green and the reader is purple! The professor(s) will all be in orange!!~

~Freshman year: Semester 1~

"Welcome to your first class of the semester students!"

It's 9:00 am, a group of 20-30 students are seated in a beige room alongside me as we listen to our English teacher, Mr. Williams introduce himself and take attendance. I'm seated in the last row in the back of the auditorium room away from the majority of the students. I didn't have many friends at this college since I had decided to attend a community college several cities away from the one I grew up in, not only that I had also taken a gap year to save some money. I looked around at the other students in the class, the majority of them seemed to have come straight from high school and seemed younger than I was. Of course there were a few that seemed around my age, one specifically peaked my attention...

Mr. Williams projected an image up on the screen of our first assignment of the semester, it had paired up names and the thesis topic we each needed to present at the end of the next upcoming week. I could hear the audible groans coming from my fellow classmates, I simply lowered my head and hoped the person I would be paired up with wasn't an asshole.

"Now-now students, don't get so excited about this! I'll be ending class early so you can meet your partners and begin working on your assignment as soon as possible. This will go towards your final grade and will not be curved! Now get to it!" Mr. Williams left the projected image up for us to find our partners and headed to his office to work on his other classroom's paperwork. I walked up to the projector and searched for my name,

"Y/N... L/N..." I softly repeated to myself as I went through the list. Once I finally found my name I saw the name of my assigned partner, 'Jonathan Price'. With this I looked around the now busy and loud room, I scanned the area and searched for my partner. After a few quick scans, I was able to spot a tall guy with mutton chops and a large frame who seemed to be doing the same as I was. Our eyes met, it was brief but it was enough time to acknowledge each other and realize we had found one another, I waved at him and quickly made my way over to him. I walked through the large crowd of students as I made my way to his general location.

I stood in front of him taking in how incredibly tall he actually was, definitely over 6', not only that he was pretty muscular... I snapped out of my slight trance as I extended my hand out to him.

"Hi! I'm going to assume you're Jonathan Price?" I flash a kind smile at him as I hoped I hadn't mistaken him for another person. "Hello! I am in fact him! But please, Call me John. I'll assume you're Y/N? Its nice to finally have a face to the name!” He said as he reached for my hand to shake, his lips curve into a soft and gentle smile. His grip was strong around my hand, It reminded me of my father's handshake in a way or what I imagine it would feel like to get a handshake from Shaq. After a few moments he let go of the grip he had on my hand and stood in front of me awkwardly for a moment, I broke the silence between us by suggesting we head to the library to escape the noisy classroom and start on our thesis assignment. We walked alongside each other and reserved a study room for the two of us.

"I'm glad we got out of there, it felt like I had to yell for you to hear me. Anyways, We should start now so we don't procrastinate about it later!"