#she forgets she has a sprained ankle a lot

[inkskinned]

it's the levels of scrutiny too.

a movie that has a largely-female cast has to be well-written, well-shot, well-acted, well-advertised. people will spend 2 hours on youtube talking about a single plot hole; about a moment of bad pacing, about a singular background character's poor scripting. if there isn't something obvious, they will say - well there's nothing specifically bad, but it wasn't specifically good either.

they will turn out another all-male movie, and it's just a movie.

a book that has queer representation in it has to defy every convention of writing while also being true to traditional plot, structure, format, and pacing. it must have no boring chapters, no missteps, no awkward dialogue. it must be able to "prove" that any queer relationship "makes sense", their sparks must fly off the page and their love must be eternal. the writing must be clear and beautiful, the storyline original and fresh, the values traditional but with an undercurrent that is modern and saucy.

they will turn out another book without queer rep, where a man and woman just-fall-in-love, and it's just a book.

i am latinx. i am queer. i am nb & neurodivergent. my father said to me once: you will need to be exceptional to be just-as-good, and you will need to be beyond exceptional before they see you as just-a-person, and not your labels.

i am not beyond exceptional. i am a human person. i am skilled because i worked my ass off to be skilled.

i am currently reading a book that's so-bad-it's-good about a girl that falls in love with a vampire. i was 64% of the way through the book before she figures out tall-dark-fanged is not natural. i like books like these, i like letting myself relax while i just enjoy the read. but i do spend a lot of time wondering - would this have been published if it was about queer people? would this have gotten past the editors if the characters weren't white and sexy?

i want to write a movie about being a woman in a male space, and i want to start that movie with a 10 minute scene where the woman is lectured with the exact same whining that occurs in the youtube comments of even the trailers for those movies: "haven't we had enough diversity?" "we've had enough girl power movies" "sorry, this is just pandering. it's boring."

here's what's fucked up: it shouldn't matter, you're right. my identity shouldn't fold after my name like a battalion of stars: a cry of what i've gone through. what we all know i had to move past and through. i should just be a writer, plain and simple, without my work being shifted through with tweezers - i know everything i make, always, i am incredibly responsible for. beholden to. i don't like knowing that if i fuck up, i am also fucking up for every person like me. every person in a community i belong to.

once, back in undergrad, i wrote a short story about a girl who had been kicked by a horse. it was my first time writing about my experience with my ocd; i felt proud of it. the story was mostly about grief and slow recovery. the queerness of the main character was not important to the plot, my main character was just-queer. there wasn't even a romantic interest in it.

i remember one of my classmates being disappointed. "i just feel like you always write about girls who like girls, and i'm bored of it," he said. "you're a beautiful writer, but i'm like - oh, at some point, it's gonna be gay again." during the workshop, he folded his hands over my story and said, "and okay, i'm just going to say it. she's ocd, she's gay, she's depressed - it's a little much for me to believe is all happening to one person."

it is a little much to be that person (and more besides). i have therapy weekly, after all.

over and over, belonging to exception.

#spilled ink #poetry #prose #warm up #idk what this is #maybe more of a confession #btw the book is called crave it's OKAY #it's very straight #main character keeps being like totally okay with situations where dude is DEF #being a stalker villian #she's known him for a WEEK and shes like #'hes all that matters' #girlfriend ur parents only died a MONTH ago #there's a lot about timing in that book im like .... did this author ever have any #actually bad experiences #like main character being like ''i shouldn't cry over them it's pathetic'' a mONTH after her parents die #btw this isn't bc she's in denial/suffering/etc it's bad writing #the narrative is instead like #'' .... bc the author doesn't want to remember to discuss it'' #she forgets she has a sprained ankle a lot #tbh im THIS close to saying ''fuck good writing'' #and writing my OWN stupid supernatural school YA romance #and YES!!!!! IT WOULD INDEED BE GAY #''oh this school? we're all... different here....bc... of the witches??oh . i mean yeah but no actually we just really believe in a diverse

[morganitering]

Because I'm the Weakest II: The Women Who Never Won

Pairings/character dynamics: Satosugu, Shoko and reader, Nanami and reader, implied shoko x utahime

Contains and warnings: DARK FIC/DEAD DOVE fem!reader, Suicidal ideation, rape aftermath, referenced rape (not written out in this chap), depression, alcohol abuse, misogyny & sexism, internalized sexism, sexual harassment on minors done by minors, victim blaming (thoughts), self harm, angst, hurt & comfort, I call noncon with the official word for it

Word count: ~9,6k

Summary: There's certain desperation when you try to keep your head above water. You were drowning and all you wanted to do was to forget, the weight on your shoulders unbearable. Despite the cards you were dealt with you found yourself among allies as the web of untold memories started to unfold.

A/N: Hey! Yall waited long for this, sorry about that. I have no idea how to tag this but I'll just do it somehow, bc this is a tricky chapter. Here yall get to dive deeper in the stuff that has gone down before the events that took place in 1st chap and get a hug from Shoko. This is hopefully the last installment of this. Read the tags carefully as always and make informed decisions based on that and take care of yourself. Shit can get heavy, but I'm trying to do this in good taste.

Read on ao3 part I

Shoko Ieiri had worked a long time with people who suffered. She had seen it all, limbs cut off, even the toughest of sorcerers reduced to crying messes as they practically had their innards falling to the floor. There’s something utterly horrifying watching a patient, no – a friend scream in pain when even her skills were not enough. Funerals came and went, the white sheet thrown over the deceased on the operation table in the same routine way she’d change her linens. Nothing really shocked her. 

That’s what she liked to think. 

Your visits have been more frequent. It started with bruises and sprained ankles. Then it was broken bones that soon turned to puncture wounds, your clothes sticky with deep red and dirt. When she asked about it, you laughed it off saying it’s nothing, just a silly little mishap, “I was too reckless in the heat of the moment.”  But your eyes were empty, your words hollow like a dead tree. Of course Shoko did her job, without asking too much. You’re an adult and you’ll speak about it if you want to, right? Her job was to keep you alive. Your job was to exorcise curses. 

Shoko and you had been close too, hanging out with the two men, but at some point in high school she had withdrawn from the group. Gojo and Geto had tried to keep in touch with her in adulthood, inviting her as well to spend time together as the four of them, but she had always declined, smoothly changing their relationship to acquaintances at best. She heard enough of the despicable men from you. The only times she was in direct contact with Gojo and Geto was work related and god how she hoped that it would stay that way. She’ll play that pretend game almost happily. 

Shoko closed the office door the day turning to evening, sundown coloring the city in hues of orange and yellow. She held onto her little black purse, thankfully it was friday. A man stood on the long corridor, standing upright as if he did not belong here. He looked indifferent, almost bored.

“Nanami.” 

“Ieiri.” 

They greeted each other with a curt nod. 

“So what brings you here? You seem healthy enough,” Shoko asked as they walked to the open parking lot, only a few cars in sight. The warm summer sun caressed her cheeks, wind making her long hair flow in waves.

“I think she’s going through something,” Nanami stated as a matter of fact talking about you. He and you had gone on missions together, but something about you wasn’t right. He had seen the way you clutch your weapon, throw yourself at the enemy recklessly almost as if you had a death wish. It’s like you waited for your end. 

“No shit.” Shoko chuckled amused. It was as clear as a day if you just had eyes on yourself. “Why do you care?” 

“I’ve seen enough people spiral to know where it leads. You’re a healer, can’t you help?” His voice was thoughtful, not betraying a hint of emotions. 

“I can’t help a person who doesn’t want it,” Shoko said. “But I’ll try to figure something out.” 

“And that is enough. Thank you.” 

***

You hated meetings and rarely took part in them if you could avoid them. You had not met Gojo or Geto after the unfortunate night. If there were some work related things where there was a possibility to meet either of the men, you requested to be part of them remotely or that someone would just forward the key points. But after doing this for a few months Yaga had sent you a passive-aggressive email writing that it is absolutely mandatory for you to show yourself at least once in a while. You didn’t bother to answer him with anything other than a polite see you there.

Honestly you were tired. Your whole body ached in overexertion. Sleep escaped from you, ran a marathon around the block never stopping at your house, and every time you seemed to catch a break, hazy images you rather forbid being real filled your vision. Your eyebags told a story of exhaustion, your body shrinking in every possible way away. You went to see a doctor, not Shoko, just some normal practitioner from the private sector that you ended up paying yourself sick for. 

The doctor gave you pills to help you with sleep. He asked you if you were stressed or going through some sorts of crisis. You answered with a diligent no and explained that you’ve always had issues with sleep, but you were otherwise okay. He looked at you, raising his eyebrow in suspicion, the glasses on his head hung on his nose by a thread. He decided to believe you as he wrote the prescription, but insisted you took home pamphlets about depression and crisis hotlines. 

You tried the pills. You did fall asleep, but only after a panic attack wrecked through your body as the effect of the medication forced you into a deep slumber. The pills made you feel your pulse in your whole body. “It’s a quite strong product, previously used to treat psychosis, but nowadays it’s for patients with severe insomnia. Take it one hour before sleep. The effect might be really sudden.”  

When you woke up you decided to throw them away. It’s better to not to sleep if it meant that you’d go free from the horrors of the night you had experienced. 

The huge meeting table sprawled out horizontally and was able to sit around fifteen people in it. It had several small electric outlets for computers and tablets. Light poured in from the big windows, the blinds only halfway done. You stared at the weird scribbling on the white board that Principal Yaga was wiping furiously, muttering things about how students shouldn’t be let in this room under any circumstance since they can’t differentiate which markers are okay to use on it. 

You exchanged pleasantries with him. The room was devoid of people since you were too early. You swung your leather bag on the back of the upholstered office chair and sat yourself down.

Shoko walked in and her face lit up a little bit when she saw you sitting there. It was subtle, you thought that you were maybe the only one who could differentiate that expression from her. She sat next to you, a faint hint of neroli wrapping you to its calming aroma. 

Next came Meimei and then Utahime who came running to you two giving a happy hug to Shoko. They were so cute together, you thought to yourself as you fidgeted with your slightly too big shoes, constantly removing them and pushing them back to your feet. People don’t usually like small talk, but nonetheless the group chatted with each other. They had to, because it’s polite and you were coworkers. You thought that small talk was easy. The script of it was burnt to your brains for the rest of your life. You get to keep people at an arm's length and keep up appearances, so what’s there not to like? 

A familiar blonde man stood in the doorway. You checked your phone for the time. Only five minutes before the official start. Yuki also appeared after Nanami.  

“Hello,” he said and nodded at you as he sat himself next to you. Your whole body stiffened around him. It was hard to look him in the eyes and even harder to work missions with.

It was ten minutes past the official time when the meeting was supposed to start. 

“Sorry we are late.” Two men marched in the room with confident strides and took their place in front of you facing you, that was sitting in between Nanami and Shoko, Utahime next to the doctor. Suguru sat down next to Yuki leaving a space for Satoru who had Meimei next to him. 

Hearing Suguru’s voice made your skin crawl. 

“It’s fine,” Yaga said and looked over his shoulder to look at the white screen he had pulled down earlier with only a blue screen reflecting on the fabric. “I can’t seem to get this work anyway,” he mumbled. 

“Do you need help?” Suguru walked over to the man struggling over his laptop. “Have you checked the HDMI-cable?” 

“Of course I have, I just don’t understand why it won't work. We have Ijichi remote today,” he muttered partially to himself.  

“Let me.” 

You sat fidgeting on your chair focusing on everything else than the two men and their presence that suffocated you. If you were a candle they’d be snuffing you out but not properly, no, that would be too kind. They’d always let enough air in so that you’d never be completely put out. 

“Hello to you girls.. and Nanami,” Satoru flashed a playful grin at the four of you. Your head jerked involuntarily to look at the man. Thank god he has a habit of covering his eyes, but somehow that made him even worse. 

“Hello. How are you?” Nanami nodded politely. 

“I’m well. Hopefully the work isn’t stressing you out too much.” Satoru’s smile widened. 

“Speaking of work, I’ve heard that you and her have started doing missions together,” Satoru nudged his head towards you as he spoke directly to Nanami. “I actually green lighted the idea of sorcerers working more together. It’s good to practice teamwork and I put in good words for the two of you, since you compliment each other with the techniques you have. ” Satoru moved his head to look your way as he drew out his words in a way that you’d be sure to catch the dual meaning.

The wall flashed a few times showing the computer screen and it’s default wallpaper for only a moment and after that went back to blue. 

“An idea that I actually can get behind,” Nanami said agreeably. 

Your eye twitched. 

“Really? That was your doing?” You barely hid the anger of your voice. One more push and you’d pour your life savings on an amoral hitman, not that you’d believe that anyone could finish him off. It was a thought just for you so you could at least think about being mean in your own petty way. 

“Not a fan of working in groups of two? How about in groups of three?” 

“You fucking piece of-” 

“Okay I think it’s working now,” Yaga put his hands together straightening himself properly. Suguru walked over to Satoru, slightly shaking his head before he sat down. You heard Utahime’s quiet “okayy..” whispered in the awkward silence. 

“Unfortunately principal Gakuganji wasn’t able to make it today, he’s sick or something.”

You heard Gojo scoff audibly. 

“Try to respect him.” Yaga shot a glare in the young teacher’s way. 

“Ijichi and Nitta have gathered data about the hotspots of cursed activity,” he continued and opened up the window to teams only to be greeted by a tired looking black haired man in a suit. The background behind him was red, it looked like some type of wallpaper and small paintings covered the walls. You reckoned it was a hotel room. Or a motel, you really could not tell. 

“Ijichi, do you hear me? Would you like to take over?” Yaga’s voice boomed louder as if he wasn’t already near his computer. 

The grainy picture of the tired man smiling uncomfortably stayed still a little too long to be taken as a real time reaction to Yaga’s question. 

“I hear you. Sorry, the connection here is a bit bad.” Ijichi’s voice echoed in the office room. The picture of a slideshow appeared on the wall, making Ijichi’s face smaller. 

The map of Tokyo loomed on the wall as everyone stared at it intensely, more or less dozing off. Some parts of it had big red circles on them and Ijichi explained the way these places were having exceptionally heavy activity. He reckoned that partially the rise in activity tied to the sorcerers working more missions together leaving less people available. Ijichi also showed statistics comparing the effectiveness of sorcerers based in Tokyo and Kyoto. 

You were about to lose your mind, your body still pumping adrenaline after the conversation with Gojo. Everyone else seemed to be bored, oblivious to your struggle. Satoru had yawned at least three times in the last ten minutes, Shoko and Utahime were both interested in their nails. Even Suguru looked tired and he was pretty good at hiding his thoughts. The only ones who did not look outwardly dead inside were Yaga and Nanami. 

“Thank you Ijichi for your hard work,” Yaga said and Ijichi nodded smiling. The pop up of the slideshow vanished from the screen leaving Ijichi’s face in a huge resolution looming onto the wall. 

“We are going to take in account the effects of pairing up sorcerers. I’m not entirely in charge of how long this trial will take,” Yaga said. “Ieiri has this trial affected the health care aspect in any way?” 

Shoko cleared her throat tapping open the ipad in front of her, her nails making a satisfying click click sound. 

“The injuries have lessened,” she started. That’s good, you thought. “But the severity has increased,” she said with a serious face.

“Why is that?” Principal scrunched his eyebrows together. 

“In my professional opinion it is due to people being more brazen when having a partner. This can be seen especially in lower grade sorcerers, who are prone to believing that they are invincible when someone backs them up.” Everyone had turned to look at the doctor who played with her hair idly as she spoke. 

“And the second grade and up?”

“It happens less. But there are some, even first grade sorcerers, who are accident prone,” Shoko said and quickly looked at you, not long enough for others to pick up on that she was speaking about you.

Gojo’s phone rang in the middle of the conference. He left the room with an apology and never came back. Relief and anger ignited in you playing tug of war in your heart as your eyes followed him bitterly.

“I think this is all. I’ll send everyone the upcoming jobs, but if no one has anything to say, I think we can conclude this meeting here,” Yaga said, the choir of thank yous and goodbyes filling the room. 

You stretched yourself, happy to be on your feet again. 

“Hey, can we talk?” Nanami tried to get your attention. 

You stood in the room that was quickly emptying out of people. Shoko awkwardly hung around in a small distance from you and Nanami, trying to pretend that she wasn’t listening to your conversation. 

“I don’t entirely understand the conversation between you and Gojo, but if I have somehow disrespected you I offer my deepest apologies.” Nanami’s voice was soft. Your heart ached as you realized how bad your words must have appeared to him. 

“I’m so sorry. It’s not about you. You’ve done nothing..” You trailed off as you saw the tall curse eating man walk outside with a sly smile on his lips.

“That’s a relief but if I may be so blunt, I have a hunch that there is something bothering you,” Nanami said. 

You looked at him and chewed your lower lip nervously. This was all their fault. If they had not done what they did, you would not be in this position. The least they could have done is to keep the names of people you know out of their mouths. 

“I’m sorry to leave you hanging like this, but can we finish this conversation later?” You  hurried past him, only hearing Nanami mumble the word ‘sure’ like a kicked puppy and you said goodbye to Shoko agreeing on staying in touch with her.

The corridor was almost empty as you walked through the school building frantically searching for that bastard of a man. Your footsteps echoed on the wood as you arrived at a not so well known exit of the building. Geto stood in front of the dual doors, half heartedly pushing it open as he furiously wrote something on his phone. 

You yelled out his name, but he did not bother to react to you. You closed in on the man that was still standing back towards you. Anger surged in you as adrenaline made you braver than what you normally would be. You were supposed to just grab the ends of his hair that were sprawled across his back, but in the heat of the moment your impulse control had another lapse as you kept on raising your hand. A fist closed around the bun that had been carefully crafted on his scalp and you dug your fingers around the hair tie and then yanked, hard. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” He turned around stepping out of the doorway letting it close properly with a thump and he closed the distance between you for good. His eyes shot daggers at you. 

“You did not pay attention to me.” You shook your hand out of the spare strands that were stuck on your palm and offered the small hair tie back to him. 

“Well you got it now,” he hissed. “You can keep that as a souvenir. I don’t want anything that a filthy bitch like you has touched,” he said, the calm composure nowhere in sight. 

A filthy bitch? Really? Then maybe you should break up with Satoru if this is your deal breaker.. That’s what you wanted to say, but you held back your tongue. 

Geto took a deep breath, calming himself down, slipping on the mask that you were more used to seeing. He put his phone back in his pocket.

“What do you want?” 

“You told me,” you started, tears threatening to flow over. “You told me that I can just leave and do whatever I want. Why do you keep tormenting me? Why do you let Gojo do what he does?” Your voice broke as you started crying openly. You hated it, it made you weak. No. You were weak. 

“Firstly, I’m not his guardian. He can do what he wants.” He sounded like a smartass. 

“Second of all, never. And I repeat. Never, lay a hand on me ever again, especially on my hair.” You rolled your eyes. 

Of course it was the hair that ticked him off completely. It was his crown, the only thing he had ever been able to take care of besides Satoru. Suguru loved to flaunt himself as the calm one, the kind one, but the exterior had always had some cracks in it. No amount of paint was able to hide the rotten wall behind it. 

“I can forgive your outburst at Satoru’s, but now that you’re in your right mind, you won’t get second chances.” 

“I don’t want ‘second chances’. I want you to leave me the fuck alone so I can do my job,” you yelled at him. 

“Lower your voice. Or do you want to air out all the dirty laundry for everyone?” Geto hushed you. 

“It’s not my ‘laundry’, it’s fucking yours!” You roared and tears fell down your cheeks blurring your vision. Your face felt hot as it got wrapped in the wrath of your words. 

Geto did not answer you, instead he chose to stare you down, not moving at all as if he was a statue. He looked like a child throwing a tantrum when things did not go his way, his face contorting to a sneer that could challenge any rich spoiled brat. You panted and wiped your face with the rough backside of your palm. 

“Move.”

“Ladies first,” he snickered childishly and kicked open the heavy door with his foot as he stepped slightly to the side. God this man hangs out too much with Gojo. 

As you left the school grounds barely holding your breakdown away, there was one figure in the corridors hugging the wall near the exit, clutching onto her purse. 

***

SHOKO’S MEMORIES, 2006

“Truth or dare?” Satoru asked, popping the pink bubblegum in the air, sucking the sticky material back in his mouth to chew on loudly. 

“Truth,” Shoko said, placing another cigarette in her mouth. She smoked especially heavily when she was drinking. 

Satoru had managed to bring a whole six pack of beer to the picnic whereas Suguru had found a travel size vodka bottle from his parents. Shoko had brought a package of different berries and salty crackers with her. 

“If you could have any technique in the world, which one would you have?” Satoru asked. He looked at the clear blue sky and the way the summer breeze pushed on the white clouds. 

Shoko played with the corner of the blanket as she thought deeply about his question. She stared at the shoes she had placed on the grass and the manicure on her toes that Utahime had insisted on putting on her. 

“I think I’d keep this one,” she smiled wistfully. 

“Really? You wouldn’t want my powers?” Satoru looked at her tilting his head to the side. He spat out the chewing gum and placed it on the plastic lid that belonged to the packaging of berries. He did not like it when things ran out of flavor, always searching for something more. 

“No. I don’t envy you at all. I just want a happy life and that’s all” Shoko answered his gaze, with a gentle smile. “Besides, I like the way I am and I suppose I can help people like this,” she added. 

Satoru hummed. He was clearly dissatisfied with the answer. 

He did not exactly know why. 

“Satoru, that's sad. You should ask something fun,” Suguru pointed out and took a sip from the beer can. 

The three of them sat on a grassy hill that had a pretty decent view of the city and the park below it. Shoko leaned against the huge tree behind her back. The cicadas were performing their own concert with the hum of motorways working as their orchestra.  

“You figure out better questions then,” Satoru pouted, but wasn’t actually hurt. 

“Isn’t it my turn to ask though?” 

Shoko looked in the distance watching closely how a woman jogged with her shiba inu, her ponytail swishing in the same rhythm as the chord of her headphones. Both men nodded slightly out of sync. 

“Satoru truth or dare?” 

“Truth.” 

“Who’s the hottest person you know?” Her eyes twinkled teasingly. 

“Waka Inoue of course. She’s sexy as hell!” Satoru slapped his hand on his heart as if he was saluting. 

“Really? You still have a crush on her?” Suguru questioned. It was his turn to pout. “Am I not enough?” 

“Baby you’re plenty, but you can’t replace a huge rack,” Satoru’s voice was steady as if he was talking about the most important thing in the whole world. 

“I can’t argue with that.” Suguru sighed defeatedly, his shoulders slumping down dramatically. 

“Ugh. I shouldn’t have asked that. Both of you are so weird and gross about women,” Shoko grimaced regretting her decisions and lifted the cigarette to her mouth as if to cover the bad taste of Satoru’s words. 

The man in sunglasses ignored the criticizing words. “Suguru. Truth or dare?” 

“Dare.” 

“I dare you to share this,” Satoru lifted up a huge strawberry. “Like in Lady and the Tramp with Shoko,” he referred to the scene where the two dogs shared a spaghetti meal, eventually kissing. 

“That’s too small!” Shoko protested immediately, shaking her head. The idea of doing that with Suguru made her feel iffy. 

“I’m game if she is,” Suguru said and offered his palm to Satoru who plopped the berry in his hands. 

Shoko had a nervous giggle come out of her. 

“C’mon, it’s just a game. You can always let go after like one bite. This is truth or dare afterall,” Satoru coaxed. 

“Fine. But I won’t kiss you, not even a peck.” Shoko established her own rule and rolled her eyes. She put out the cigarette on the grass and left the butt there. 

“We’ll see about that,” Suguru laughed and picked at the stem that got thrown over next to the chewed up gum. 

He awkwardly came closer to the young female student and placed the bigger end between his lips. He looked silly, the red end peeking out of his mouth. Suguru attempted at mouthing the words ‘come closer’, but neither Satoru or Shoko understood his words but the context clue carried the point to Shoko. 

She got on her knees sitting on top of her legs and straightened herself out. Suguru was way taller than her, even when he sat. Her face approached Suguru’s who had a pink tint on his cheeks from the alcohol he had drank.  

She opened her mouth and barely bit down on the smaller end, her tongue touching the bumpy texture of the strawberry. 

“Ready. Set. Go!” Satoru exclaimed, motioning finger guns happily. His gaze was completely glued on his two friends. 

Suguru closed his eyes and he started to carefully nibble, closing dangerously on Shoko’s lips. She bit quickly, not really tasting anything and began to pull away in hopes of Suguru calling it quits too. 

Unfortunately she wasn’t fast enough. The last bits of strawberry fell down on Shoko’s lap when Suguru pressed his lips against hers, a faint red trail dripping on her chin. She didn’t move and her eyes widened in shock. Shoko didn’t know what to do so she just held her hands on her lap. 

Suguru pet gently behind the girl’s head kissing her motionless lips. His hand trailed down to her neck and all the way to her shoulder. Shoko felt the sweet taste in her mouth mixing with the alcohol, stranger’s saliva and nicotine as Suguru dragged his hand to the mound of her breast. The warmth emanating from his palm was enough to bring her back to reality and Shoko pushed the bigger guy off of her. 

“Why did you do that?” she snapped and crossed her arms. 

“Oh don’t get angry now. Have a drink and chill out.” Satoru sighed. He shuffled awkwardly and placed the almost empty tote bag on his lap and grabbed a new beer can from there. Shoko narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but did not want to make room for any weird thoughts that would imply even weirder things. “It’s just a joke.” 

“This is not the first time you take jokes too far.”

Shoko looked away from the two boys, disappointment turning into an ache in her heart and wiped her chin clean from the strawberry. She slipped on the ballerinas laying on the ground. 

“Seriously? You’re leaving because of this?” Suguru tilted his head, his voice defensive.

Shoko threw her cigarettes and lighter in her own purse checking the blanket for other stuff she had. 

“Yeah, I am. I’m not having fun anymore.” Her voice was cold as she was attempting to hide the nervous tremble in her body and almost jumped up throwing the bag on her shoulder. She turned around, once again crossing her hands against her chest as if to protect herself and started walking.

“Hey! Don’t you want your blanket with you?” Satoru yelled after her. The two guys sat on the quilt completely bamboozled. 

“Keep it! I don’t need it!” 

She didn’t eat strawberries for the rest of the summer. 

***

“Hey you really should sing this one!” Shoko laughed as she scrolled through the song list.

“Whaat? No that’s not even funny,” you laughed and slapped her arm gently. 

“Is it really not? Or are you just a bore?” Shoko taunted getting ready to put the song on.

“Can we sing something from this?” You pointed at the category called 2000’s hits. 

“I’ll pick something at random and you’re just going to deal with it,” Shoko laughed clearly tipsy too after the multiple drinks you both had drank. 

The disco ball was spinning around the small room painting the walls in hues of blue, red and green. Nanami sat on the couch nursing his whiskey as he stared off into space. The upbeat music filled the room, bass shaking the ground underneath your feet.

It was the first time going out after the events at Gojo’s house. Shoko had basically begged you to come with her to get shit faced complaining that she really needed someone to rant with. You told her that Utahime was right there and would probably love to listen to her, but she claimed that the woman from Kyoto had other plans for the weekend.

After arriving at the karaoke bar you had been taken back after seeing the stoic blonde man at the venue. You weighed the option of immediately leaving in your head, but your conscience did not allow you to do so, after leaving him so rudely hanging in the meeting. When the three of you had gotten your own private room you decided to immediately order shots and drinks with the only goal of getting absolutely black out drunk tonight despite having Nanami there. 

It was honestly rare to see him after work as he had preferred to keep his distance. He was wearing the same clothing he always wore, dress shirt ironed, necktie perfectly hanging against his chest as if he was on the clock. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he were to whip out a cursed tool onto the bar table. 

You clutched onto the microphone singing unevenly as you danced to the beat, half of the syllables disappearing to you being out of breath. Shoko cackled, almost folding over as she kept slapping her thigh eyes watering. She had drunk a few drinks less than you and she had been exceptionally happy even before drinking. Truthfully Shoko was quite a heavy drinker and she definitely should not have been as wasted as what she appeared to be. 

Nanami stared at the both of you, raising the whiskey glass to his lips after checking his wrist watch. 

“Come here! Sing with us!” You yelled to the mic only getting a slightly alarmed expression out of him as he shook his head.

“I think I’m okay with watching you two perform,” he said. 

You pouted but kept on singing, your concentration skills nonexistent. You did not notice the way Shoko glared at him, nudging her head towards you as she pointed the microphone in her hand towards him. 

Nanami cleared his throat under the threatening gaze and clumsily got up. 

“Oh my god! Nanamiii!” You screamed the noise so high pitched that even the speakers were unable to handle it and you could see how Nanami cringed at the sound. 

Shoko squinted her eyes and mouthed the word sing to Nanami. Shoko was not going to deal with you alone. 

The combination of the pop song and Nanami’s voice made you giggle as you hurrayed him happily. He was not a bad singer by any means, but his voice did not fit the song choice. You wondered to yourself, why had you not gotten shitfaced earlier when you had all the good reasons to. 

Shoko decided to take a small break sitting on the spot where Nanami had been earlier and inspected the brown liquid swishing in the glass. She stole a sip from it when Nanami wasn’t watching, not really caring about the fact that it wasn’t her drink.

You grabbed your drink from the table and drank from it and you kept on singing happily, almost jumping around. Nanami looked at you with a terrified expression when you moved side to side with the drink spilling on your hand, but you did not notice the wetness of it. 

“Hey, put that down before you drop the glass,” Nanami said and gently tried to take the glass from you.

“No, I want to keep this,” a pout formed on your face but you still did what he told and turned around swiftly to place the drink on the counter. Your vision was blurry, the lights slightly too bright and you lost your balance tipping over the glass that was already safely on the table. You felt yourself starting to fall but a strong arm snaked around your waist to stabilize you. 

The world felt like it was stopping when the arm around you changed into a tight rope that pressed around your ribcage. The karaoke room changed inch by inch to a vast room with a wall made of windows with a night view of the streets of Tokyo. The shattered drink turned into a broken light bulb on the floor. You felt a hot breath on your skin, but your body had gotten cold. It was as if you had been dunked into ice water, all the earlier excitement completely vanished. The disco ball spun around casting blue lights on the white haired man’s face that ogled you like a piece of meat. The imagery was so vivid and real in your mind that you reacted on instinct, elbowing the man behind you. 

The rope vanished around you as the windows melted to the concrete floor, the shadows of city lights turned back to the tacky illumination of the disco ball. You felt the remnants of cursed energy fizzing out like a soda can as your eyes landed on Nanami, who was slightly hunched over holding onto his side the pain making him grimace. You had no idea how much force you had actually used, but probably quite a lot judging by the way Nanami was reacting. 

Shoko stood there completely still, eyes filled to the brim with worry and confusion. Her lips were ajar and she gulped down wanting to say something, but she did not know what. 

“My apologies. I didn't mean to touch you inappropriately,” Nanami managed to say. The music track played in the background, but it felt empty without a drunken voice guiding it. He was lucky to have good reflexes, instinctually protecting himself from the blow, otherwise Shoko would have had a patient off the clock. 

“Uh,” Your mouth gaped at him hopelessly. He had done nothing wrong. 

“I’ll go for a cigarette,” you blurted out and left the room hurriedly. The long hallway stretched in front of your eyes as you looked at the numbers on karaoke booths, only muted colors flashing through the slightly translucent doors. You leaned on the wall as you dragged your feet forward arriving at the front desk that thanked you for your time, but you did not pay attention to them and turned to your left to stare at the steep stairway.

The steps were made out of wood with a black paint that had started to chip away and the walls were pure red, too bright and intense for your eyes. You focused on the door in front of you and barely saw the red walls around it as they got covered by a dark cloud, your way of seeing more animalistic than human.The only thing in your mind was the need to get some fresh air as emotions threw you around like a shipwreck at the sea. 

You pushed the door open and walked over to a bicycle stand choosing an empty spot where you plopped yourself on. You rocked yourself back and forth as you cried and gripped onto your skin painfully hoping that at least the physical sensation would put an end to your suffering. You started to be more aware of the familiar banging against your skull. 

The door of the karaoke bar opened as Shoko walked outside, her face now serious, resembling more the woman she was at work than the friend giggling at drunk people's jokes. 

“Hey. You forgot this inside.” She handed you your bag.

You wanted to answer something but you could not as the words got stuck to your throat. Your world flashed back and forth between sensations that you weren’t supposed to feel in this moment. The guilt and sadness ate you alive, nipping away from your vitals the more you tried to push them down. 

Shoko placed a cigarette between her lips and lit it up and offered it to you. You took it gladly off her hands inhaling the sweet smoke, but you almost ended up suffocating on it as your nose was too stuffed to handle it. Even the menthol taste was unable to help you with this issue. Shoko opened the green box once more to get herself a smoke as well. 

She took a drag out of it and watched your shuddering figure. 

“I saw you in the hallway with Geto. Something happened at Gojo’s right?”

You lifted your head up mascara running on your cheeks. Had you not been in such a bad state her words would have shocked you. 

“I can’t help you if you don’t want my help.” Shoko crouched down to your level. You stared at her face as she left out a puff of smoke that trailed around her face, the dark eye bags now more visible than ever. 

You choked on your tears once more, now openly wailing on the pavement your fingers digging into the soft flesh of your arm. You dragged your nails across yourself leaving pink trails behind it, the soft tingle covering the areas you had just clawed at. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” you cried, your words hard to decipher as your breath hitched. “I can’t keep on doing this. It’s all my fault. I’m so stupid,” you screamed snot falling onto your shirt. 

“So fucking stupid!” You impulsively pressed the cigarette butt against your thigh melting the cloth away the stinging pain shocking you as your skin shed its layers against the fire. 

You had no shame in your breakdown, frankly you did not even recognize the others that looked in your way speaking with hushed voices around you, as they tightened the grip on their partners hands. “That girl really needs to lay off the drinks,” someone had said loudly. Shoko had wanted to immediately pounce, but she held herself together. She knew that you needed her more. 

“Don’t hurt yourself, when you want to hurt someone else,” her voice was just a whisper. “Can I touch you?” She asked not wanting to trigger you further. You nodded. 

Shoko pulled you into a tight hug and you buried your face on her chest, holding onto her like it was the last thing keeping you afloat. You seeked comfort in her presence. 

“I want to die.” You gripped onto her tighter. “I’m so weak.”

Shoko stroked your hair, her own eyes watering as she listened to you wordlessly. She felt your pain almost just as viscerally as you were experiencing them now.  

“No matter… no matter what I do. I can’t escape them. I just want to be gone. I want to-”

Shoko shushed you and slipped her free hand into her pocket, digging out her phone. Almost ten minutes had gone by. She awkwardly opened her chat with Nanami trying to inform the man who was probably still sitting in their booth waiting for the two of you to come back. 

A male voice disturbed the two of you. “Is everything okay?” 

Shoko pressed her hand on your shoulder pushing herself up from the ground, she whispered to you to stay put, not that you really were in any condition to go anywhere. 

“Good that you’re here. I was just about to text you. Can you get us a taxi?”

“Of course,” he said and opened the app punching in your address that Shoko forwarded to him. He looked so much older and out of place in the busy street. 

This was the kind hearted and lovely Nanami that had forgiven you immediately, after you had punched him in the gut because you were fucked up in the head. The kind hearted and lovely Nanami that you couldn’t look in the eyes, because of a certain man whose name you felt like acid on the tip of your tongue. The thoughts in your head brought fresh tears to your eyes. You dangerously sailed in the deep waters of suicidal ideation, your tired hands opening the forbidden door.  

“It’s going to arrive in five minutes,” Nanami hummed. 

“I think you should go. I’ll handle this,” Shoko said, her voice full of pity. “I’ll keep you posted.”

Nanami nodded in agreement. 

“For what it’s worth, take care of yourself too.” Nanami’s words were carefully chosen, anticipating that you weren’t the only one who needed a hug. 

***

SHOKO’S MEMORIES, YEAR 2006

The beach was filled with people who enjoyed the way the sun spoiled them with its warmth. Shoko was sitting on a towel next to Mei Mei who applied generous amounts of sunscreen on her hand. They sat underneath a parasol that had been propped in the sand, covering them both from the direct sun. The brown haired girl watched as Utahime excitedly threw herself to the water. She had given up on trying to get Shoko and Mei Mei in the water as well. 

“Mei Mei, don’t you have a lot of experience with boys?” Shoko almost whispered and hugged her legs. Her beach shawl swayed when the breeze decided to start playing with the huge piece of cloth. 

“Are you trying to imply something?” Her voice was low and melodic but not at all accusatory. 

“No, nothing like that. I just wanted to ask you something.” Shoko shook her head flustered. “Is it normal for a guy to kiss a girl without asking?” 

Mei Mei burst into laughter. This was the question Shoko was getting all worked up for? 

“Shoko,” Mei Mei’s eyes glimmered softly when she said the younger girl’s name with gentleness that reminded her of a mother tugging a child into bed. “I did not take you for being this innocent,” she teased. 

“I’m not innocent,” the brown haired girl huffed with the unexpected blush decorating her cheeks.

“Did someone do that to you?” Mei Mei tilted her head curiously and offered the sunscreen bottle to Shoko who happily took it to her hands.

“If I tell you, will you promise that you won’t tell anyone?”

“If I’m honest, I don’t think I care enough to tattle. You got me curious now. Tell me,” she hummed as a smile curled on her lips. 

“Well uh.. Suguru kind of kissed me when we were playing truth or dare with Satoru,” Shoko explained . She ran her hand between the warm sand, the grainy texture giving her something else to think about. “It was a stupid dare on Satoru’s part. Dunno why I accepted it.” 

Shoko added that she did not want to kiss him under any circumstances but the boy had managed to go over her boundary with ease. 

“That’s it?” Mei Mei asked, raising her eyebrow. She was almost bewildered at how tame the story was. 

“Yeah.” 

The blue haired woman scoffed.

“Guys think that girls like it when they take control and in a certain sense they are right. Maybe they got their eyes on you? Although, I did think that Suguru and Satoru were..” Mei Mei’s voice trailed off as she thought. “It doesn’t matter.” She concluded. 

“If I were you. I’d go along with it.” Mei Mei suggested. 

“No way. I don’t like them like that. Besides that’s not what I asked for your opinion on.” 

“And?” Mei Mei turned her gaze on Shoko, her eyes hardening as she intensely stared at the younger girl. “Those two men are our generation’s strongest and you’re going to complain that one of them gave you a little kiss?” 

Mei Mei’s melodic voice dropped lower as she showed her true feelings of distaste towards Shoko’s views. 

“If I were you,” she started again, her voice tough and bitter. “I’d be securing my spot by their side and not planning to bring forth meaningless accusations over a game of truth or dare.” 

Shoko was at loss with the things that were being said to her. Now that she thought about it, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to speak with Mei Mei. 

“I did not say I was going to tell anyone,” her voice was squeaky like a little girl’s. 

“But you thought about that right?” Shoko did not deny nor confirm the accusation.

Mei Mei’s face softened. “Shoko, you’re a smart girl. You should know better than to get shaken by two boys, especially when you so eagerly lead them on.“ 

“..I don’t lead them on.”

“Then stop meeting them in your spare time. If you do that, guys will think that you’re willing. You’re not a kid anymore, they do notice that you’re a woman now.” 

She stayed quiet, Mei Mei’s words burning on her skin worse than the summer heat. She did not want guys thinking about her that way. She simply wanted to be their friend and the idea of boys and girls being unable to do that because of bodily differences made Shoko shudder. 

“You want to help your friends, right?” Mei Mei asked when Utahime got out of the water. 

Shoko nodded. 

“Then become a doctor. That’s the best you can do to others with the technique you have.” Her words were probably meant to be comforting, but they made Shoko’s heart sink to the bottom of the ocean. 

“Shookoo!” Utahime ran towards the two girls sitting on the beach towels. 

“Are you willing to swim now?” Sand and water droplets clung onto her radiant skin that the younger girl admired silently. Shoko felt her heart skip a few times in her chest when Utahime offered her hand to her. 

“Sure.” The shy smile stretched on Shoko’s lips. 

“I’ll stay here. But you guys have fun.” Mei Mei announced as she opened the book next to her the pages slightly crumpled up. 

Shoko did not really register Mei Mei’s voice anymore. She grabbed Utahime’s hand and the world slowly faded away around them. 

****

Shoko went through the bathroom nimbly avoiding piles of clothing or takeout bags as she looked through your bathroom cupboard. She found a bag of half used cotton pads and a micelar water from the mess.

The taxi drive had felt like eternity. Your tears had dried before settling in the car and numbness had taken over. Shoko helped you to your bed and said that she’d come back soon, closing the door behind her giving you some space to change into something more comfortable. 

The door opened. Shoko looked at you and sat on the bed. You were using a pillow as a support for your back. The night lamp’s warm color casted shadows around your puffy face. The woman shook the bottle in her hand and poured liquid on the white cotton pad and tilted your face towards hers. 

She pressed the pad on your eyelid carefully letting the mixture soak through the heaps of makeup on your face. You sniffled sadly before speaking. 

“I can do this on my own too.” 

“I want to do this,” her voice was soft as she spoke the makeup remover leaving your skin slightly cold. You simply nodded and admired the way her hair framed her face. 

“You know I’ve had my own bad experiences too,” Shoko said, her face turning to a slight frown. Her mind was sailing in memories that she had given up on trying to understand. 

You were at a loss of words. You wanted to pry, but it felt invasive. 

“With them? Really?” You heard yourself asking as you danced on the line of impropriety.

“Yeah,” Shoko hummed, “but we shouldn’t have this conversation yet. Maybe in the morning, but not now,” she tried to make her voice sound brighter, feel brighter as if it would fix everything. 

“Okay,” you said. Maybe she’s right about this. Shoko discarded the dirty cotton pad, simply placing it on the bedside table. It was at its limits the whole thing turned into the color of your foundation with the small black streaks of your mascara on it, or what was left from it. 

She held onto your face gently for a moment too long even after she was done. You opened your eyes to really look at her. She looked so sad and.. young? Yes young was the right word. She looked like a woman robbed out of something sacred. She had been so happy, so easy to excite in her youth, but now all she seemed to carry was baggage. 

Your drunken mind wanted to close the distance, but something held you back. Maybe it was all the answers that were still being withheld by her, maybe it was the understanding that it’s not the right time yet. 

“Can you stay the night?” you whispered. Shoko breathed in and opened her mouth to say something, but you were faster. “Please? Th-there’s some clothes you can borrow in my closet.” 

She stayed quiet and you waited patiently.

“I’ll stay.” 

You smiled weakly at her and muttered a gentle thank you. She shuffled up from the bed and walked over the closet you had pointed for her. You turned your back to her when you heard the rustling of clothing that she ended up piling up neatly on one of the spare chairs in your bedroom. 

You fluffed up the pillow next to you and lifted up the blanket when she climbed in. You turned your back to her as you lay down on your side. Your hand searched the light switch and then the room was pitch black. 

Shoko awkwardly came closer to you till your back was against hers and she played with your hair idly in the silence. The touch was friendly, your body slumping in relaxation almost immediately. It was nice to have someone there. You had gotten so used to being afraid of the nights. 

“Good night,” she said, her voice hoarse. 

“Night.” 

***

You woke up alone with no trace of the woman in your room. She had gotten up earlier than you and dressed up back to the clothes she had in the bar. You hugged your plush blanket, almost burying your whole face underneath it, not ready to face the day.

Your head hurt and you felt nauseous. How is Shoko even able to do things? You wondered to yourself.

The faint knock on the bedroom door disrupted your thoughts as the door opened slightly. 

“I made a sandwich for you and found some painkillers, if you want any,” she said and you heard her steps further away again. 

You groaned and threw the blanket away from your body, the cold greeting you roughly. 

Your kitchen had gotten miraculously cleaner, the multiple empty beer cans piled in a bag and the dishwasher hummed quietly. You stared at the brown table in front of you that had two sandwiches and glasses of water on it, hunger long gone from your body. 

“You really should drink less.” Shoko picked up another empty can from the counter just to place it in the bag.

“Like you’re the one to talk.” You sat on the chair with its legs squeaking against the floor with your rough treatment. 

You grabbed the pill bottle and rattled out two tablets that you threw in your mouth and drank barely enough water to chase them down. 

“What do you remember?” Shoko asked and sat in front of you. She wasn’t feeling very hungry either. 

“I remember punching Nanami and the talk we had before we fell asleep,” you mumbled, playing with the edges of the slightly crusty lettuce between your sandwich. You had meant to use it on a salad a few days ago, but you were too tired to cook for yourself. Even the simple things were hard. “What did I tell you?”

“Nothing. You were just crying.”

Oh. So it was like that. 

“They assaulted me.” Your face was stern, emotions hidden behind a wall. The words felt weird. It was the first time you had actually said it out loud.

Shoko’s face widened from shock. 

“They what?” 

“Don’t make me repeat it,” you hissed. 

“Sorry, I won’t.” 

The silence felt unbearable and you stuffed your face full of bread just to do something. 

“They did something similar when we were still in school.” Shoko ripped the hangnail painfully from her skin and pressed on the miniscule wound with one of her fingers. 

You chewed the sandwich aggressively without tasting anything, the texture turning to mush in your mouth. 

“Why didn’t you warn me?” Your words were way more accusatory than what you wanted. 

Shoko turned her head to the side looking hurt by your sudden outburst. Her eyebrows scrunched together in pain as she looked for the perfect words, but there were none. 

“You admired them. I didn’t want to take that away from you, and when I realized that I probably should have said..”

“Bullshit, Shoko. It’s been ten years. I deserved to know, you could have-”

“Stop blaming me for their shit!” she yelled. Shoko never yells. 

You fell quiet. You reined in your anger, its hands still attempting to reach out to anything it could latch on. She was right. It’s not her burden to bear, but you still couldn’t help but feel powerless, when there could have theoretically been someone who could have told you to not go there. 

“Sorry,” you simply said just to drop the topic. Shoko sighed defeatedly and pushed her head briefly against her hands. She understood the anger, she really did. 

“They drugged me and then raped me together. I don’t remember a lot from it. I fought back – well attempted to,” your voice shook as you spoke. 

The brown haired woman simply looked at you with silent empathy. 

“Did you at least get one good punch in?” 

Your lips curled into a downhearted smile. The memory of your feeble fight playing in your mind, the weakness and despair of it all, a futile attempt of a prey to preserve their life just one moment longer. 

“Not a single one,” you laughed hollowly as one tear rolled on your cheek and your lips trembled. “But I did rip some hair out of Geto at the school,” you tried to brighten your voice and be brave. 

Shoko’s eyes watered and she answered your smile with her own. 

“Good.” 

The almost happy expression faded from your face. Everything hurt, never had you ever thought to be in a situation like this where you were exchanging devastation with your friend like gifts on christmas. 

“Why did you stay? Even Nanami left for a while, you could have done the same.” Your question was gentler this time. 

Shoko pondered for a minute, not sure of her answer either. 

“Because this is the only way I could help. I had you and Utahime and I didn’t want to leave you two behind. Besides what else was I supposed to do? I’ve been given a technique that can save many if I choose right. Had I left a lot more could have died because I wasn’t here — all because of what two men did,” she tried to put her thoughts together. 

“There’s a reason why Utahime doesn’t like Gojo,” Shoko blurted out and played with her hair. 

You took a careful sip of water as if you were trying to carefully dissect the different flavors of Shoko’s words. 

“What do you mean? Did they do something to her as well?” 

“No. I just mean that women know, you know? I think it’s in our blood to recognize danger. That’s one of the reasons she despises him. But this is just my thought, not an universal truth,” Shoko wondered out loud. 

She breathed in once again as if the words she was about to speak were too painful. 

“I think sometimes us women have to carry the atrocities of men. There’s no rhyme or reason why they do certain things. At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself. I never went through what you did, but I can’t say that I’m surprised,” she mused. “I’m sorry though. What you went through. It’s not right.”

Her brown eyes stared at you expectantly. You chewed on your lip nervously and tapped the empty plate with your nail, the small tinkle sound working as a metronome. 

“No, it’s not,” you huffed. But it feels like it’s my fault. If I had not gone there, if I had not idolized them – loved them even. This wouldn’t have ended this way. It was easier to leave those words in your head. 

“So what now?” You looked at Shoko, your eyes pleading, asking for answers, guidance, anything she would be able to provide to you. You knew there was nothing clear cut Shoko could say, but god how you wished that someone would know what to do. 

Shoko shook her head in defeat as if telling you that she wasn’t able to point you on the right track like that. 

“Whatever you want. You can stay or go, but you don’t have to carry it alone,” Shoko said, her face gentle. You could still draw out the remnants of the young girl from the year two thousand and six on her features. The lines were almost faded but they were still there. 

You found kinship in her even if neither of you had shared the full story of what had happened. You weren’t there yet and you weren’t ready. Instead the two of you skirted around words unspoken finding solace of at least having someone who could understand. It was up to the both of you what to make out of the confessions of the past. 

#tw: noncon #shoko ieiri x reader #ieiri shoko x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere geto suguru

[unfortunate-songbird]

ok hear me out

what if April was older

pov you’re like 15, working your after school job at your local pet store, nbd

Then this guy walks in wearing a literal suit of armor. It’s bright blue. He’s got long pinkish hair and golden horns. Are those freaking gargoyles on his shoulders. he asks for four turtles.

Sure, whatever. New York be like that sometimes. You get him four turtles, different types. While you’re, like, ringing up the turtles or w/ever, he starts droning on about how he’s going to mutate them into the greatest warriors in the universe and use them to reclaim his peoples’ rightful place on the surface

you aren’t really paid enough for this, but honestly it’s either this or freaking McDonald’s, so you deal with it

guy takes his turtles and leaves

maybe you mostly forget

maybe it keeps you up a few nights, idk

you get fired four months later in an incident that Totally wasn’t your fault but the managers just saw thirty hamsters dyed bright pink and jumped to conclusions, yknow? That’s how it be sometimes

Anyways, picture about 3 years later

you pick up a part time delivery job at a pizza place. Not ideal, but when you’ve been blacklisted from the majority of businesses in your general area, beggars can’t be choosers. Anyways, a guy asks for 3 large pizzas. You can hear kids yelling in the background. He sounds tired. Mood. then he asks you to leave them in an alleyway near a manhole. uhhhhh

look, you’re dead inside from customer service, but you’ve still got a Little of that investigative spirit that got you expelled from that fancy smancy high school sophomore year

So you wait

A rat man (!!?!???) emerges from the sewer, holding a very small toddler that’s also a turtle (?!???!?)

Wait. wait. wait.

that guy from the pet store.

no way.

Anyways, it takes a lot of yelling, panic, a few ninja moves (??) and some really awful lies from the rat man, but they manage to talk it out. It helps when one bawling turtle kiddo quiets after a couple minutes of the April O’Neil flair. (For once’s she’s grateful for her many younger cousins)

besides, she’s basically their aunt at this point. She sold them to the goat man, so she kinda counts. She’s pretty sure Rat Man- Splints- is just glad to have some help wrangling the disasters. He pays her nicely for her services, which is great, so she drops the other jobs and babysits mutant turtles in the sewers. It’s weird, for sure, but it could be way worse.

Plus, they’re all so cute.

Raph is super helpful, always following her around and trying to participate in whatever she’s doing. It’s so cute watching him bite his lip as he carefully fills Mikey’s sippy cup with juice (April holding onto the carton to make sure he doesn’t spill everywhere)

Donnie is super smart already, eagerly recounting to April whatever cool facts he’s learned. April buys him some Legos to build stuff, and he’s over the moon about them. Mikey eats one of the pieces, leading to a few hours of panic and a lifelong hatred of people touching his stuff.

Leo is a little show off, always yelling “April, April!! Lookit this!!” (Those words have proceeded, to date: three broken bones (at least mutants heal quickly), two sprained ankles, a sprained wrist, a nasty cut down his leg, and more scraped up knees that April can count).

Mikey is much less of a daredevil on his own, but he’s quick to copy whatever dangerous stunt Leo is doing. He’s always easily mollified with colorful bandaids, though, and Leo has more than once abandoned a trick when he sees Mikey trying to attempt it too. His drawings cover both the lair’s fridge and April’s own.

((( idk what this was I just think it’s very cute. My brain went “haha Draxum in a pet shop” and then everything else happened. i don’t know where Splinter gets his money, but he obviously Has it. He doesn’t work, but the boys can still afford pizza and have allowances (I’m assuming, since it’s unlikely they have jobs to earn money, so whatever they get is probably from Splinter.) and also?? Electricity?? (Where do they get that)

anyway I have Many questions that are never answered about that)))

#rottmnt #rottmnt april #rottmnt draxum #rottmnt splinter #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #turtle tots #rottmnt au #april babysitter au

[ymdslf]

this picture of julien looking at la gare de perpignan by salvador dalí

right, this one?

i don’t mean to flex but i sat in that exact same spot

here’s a picture i took.

but circling back to that painting: the lady from the museum told us (i went with my art class) that dalí painted this about his own relationship to god and religion. she asked us to describe what this painting made us feel, and i couldn’t put it into words then and i still don’t know how to, because it took my breath away and left me speechless. the light bursting out in the center, dalí himself floating there, and jesus hanging on the cross right behind him, almost invisible.

it also features people in prayer, pausing their work to take a moment and speak to their god. dalís wife stands behind the cart in the center bottom. a train cart is floating above dalí, above jesus’ head. at the center top, another version of the falling, or floating, dalí can be seen. beneath that version, the clouds are parting and letting the light shine through. the bottom of the painting is the ocean, with a singular boat floating along.

the first thing i noticed, when i looked at this painting, was the light. and when i looked closer, what stood out to me was the crown of thorns. what i noticed next was the bleeding wound.

this was on november 25th, less than a month after the halloween show, and i still had this vivid picture of julien dressed as jesus burned into my eyes. and so when i saw this picture, all i could think about was her. the first thought that popped into my head when i realized the religious context of this painting was julien-the jesus parallel of course, but also because i had listened to sprained ankle on the way there. i can’t pretend to know her, but that album has a lot of religious imagery, and i couldn’t stop thinking about it. i didn’t remember that first picture, it didn’t stand out to me when i first saw it, because i didn’t know what was happening. i just thought ‘oh another museum photo how cute’ and that was that. now i can’t help but wonder how julien felt when she saw that painting.

i didn’t know what to feel- i felt calm, at peace, and yet this churning feeling of everything clawing at me. i’ve struggled with my faith and my religion for as long as i’ve had critical thinking skills. this painting perfectly encapsulates whatever it is that i try to say but can’t. i don’t know exactly what dalí wanted to express with this painting, but to me it feels that way. it makes me feel so many things.

i kept circling back to that room. it was almost like the painting was magnetic and pulling me toward itself. i still think about it.

all this to say: sometimes i forget that people i only ever see inside my little phone screen actually exist, and this just reminded me that, yes they do, and sometimes everything and everyone is connected by tiny little strings.

#julien baker #boygenius #salvador dali #la gare de perpignan #this kind got away from me #sorry #religious imagery #over analyzing #probably #oh welp #mattis talks

[jucyfruit]

Reeling From Substance Abuse and Questioning God, Julien Baker Sings Through the Pain

by Ilana Kaplan | 1/25/16

When you’re speaking with Julien Baker, it’s easy to forget she’s 20 years old. She communicates about her music and her life with a humble confidence; she describes her favorite songwriters and the experiences she had as a teenager with as if she’s written novels about them. “I want to speak well and be an intelligent person, but not to the degree of being condescending,” says Baker. “I think I accrued a lot of experiences early on.”

With an eloquence beyond her years, you’d be forgiven for wondering if Baker’s ascension was the final act of some strategy, but it’s an accident that her debut record took off at all. The Memphis singer never intended for the songs on Sprained Ankle to go further than Bandcamp. But the music gods had something else in mind for Baker. “I didn’t plan any of this,” Baker tells the Observer. “The fact that this album was released in a formal way was kind of contrary to how I’m used to releasing music, which is sadly limited.”

Baker was used to performing in the band Forrister with her friends, but heading off to college allowed her the freedom to focus on writing her own music. Following a road trip with a friend and a recording session at Matthew E. White’s Spacebomb records, Baker put the record on Bandcamp as she did with her previous work. Soon after, 6131 records asked Baker to pull it down so they could release and promote the record. Baker had never done a structured release—she was accustomed to sending a bunch of random emails and printing out handbills.

‘I acknowledge substance abuse, doubt, fear, sadness and despair in the songs because they’re real emotions that are worth talking about.’

However, Sprained Ankle triggered success for her within the indie music scene—something she never expected. “It’s been a little difficult to acclimate to this world,” says Baker. It’s safe to say Baker’s life since her debut LP’s release has been a bit of a whirlwind—all the while simultaneously studying at Middle Tennessee University.

Sprained Ankle serves as a metaphor for a difficult period of Baker’s life. Dealing with the emotional turmoil that surfaced from a romantic relationship and her separation from her band, the album title came from a joke as Baker’s friends encouraged her to confront her pain. “When you’re a kid and you scrape your knee or sprain your ankle, you have to walk on it to make it better, because if you coddle it, it’ll stay sprained,” explains Baker. “I was like, ‘That’s a great metaphor for my entire life right now—running head forward at pain to assuage the issue.’ ”

Listening to Baker’s music, it’s easy to think you’ve known her your entire life. Her words read like diary entries, which makes sense—the songs were originally just catharsis. It’s a quality she learned from songwriting idols such as Death Cab For Cutie’s Ben Gibbard, mewithoutYou’s Aaron Weiss and Elliott Smith. Gibbard has been a particularly looming influence over Baker’s lyrics. “When I heard the song ‘Title and Registration,’ it totally changed how I thought about songwriting because it’s not overly poetic—he’s having this very mundane experience getting pulled over having to get his registration out, and he sees pictures from an old lover or something,” explains Baker. “All of a sudden it becomes this very relatable, human experience. Then it hurts you.”

That sense of personal connection changed the way Baker thought about songwriting, influencing her to draw from her own life while shaping her music. Baker’s experience with God mirrors that of Weiss—something she’s reflected in her own music and lyrics. “He talks about God in a way that’s not alienating,” describes Baker.

Baker used that vulnerability as a template for recording as therapy: it wasn’t an easy record to write, and it’s certainly not an easy record to listen to, lyrically speaking. But Baker’s heartfelt vocals shine through the confessions she makes about dealing with substance abuse, religious doubt and sadness. “I acknowledge substance abuse, doubt, fear, sadness and despair in the songs because they’re real emotions that are worth talking about,” says Baker of her album.

Substance abuse plays an important role thematically on Sprained Ankle. “I wanna go home, but I’m sick/There’s more whiskey than blood in my veins/More tar than air in my lungs/The strung out call I make,” she sings on “Go Home.” It’s something that’s easier for her to sing about, than speak about, but she does so with a refreshing raw energy. “To admit that substance abuse is something I’ve dealt with in my past baffles a lot of my friends and people I’ve met in the past few years because I’m always the DD, and I’m 100 percent sober,” explains Baker. “It’s something that was a very real issue for me and continues to be because when you have those experiences, I don’t think they ever go away.”

It’s that kind of unrelenting honesty alongside the intimacy of her guitar and haunting vocals that make her storytelling incredibly relatable and hypnotic. She’s used Sprained Ankle as a catalyst to help better herself and help others who may have endured the same experiences. “Choosing to make yourself better and never addressing those issues does a disservice to other people who aren’t there yet and prevents an open dialogue about [substance abuse],” says Baker. “I think it’s necessary to acknowledge those parts of yourself.”

Substance abuse, however, is just one of the topics she covers on Sprained Ankle. Through songs like “Rejoice” and “Go Home,” Baker also sings about her trepidation when it comes to faith.

“One of the reasons why I became disillusioned with God early in my life is because people would be like, Just pray about it and you’ll feel better,’ ” says Baker. “That’s not necessarily how it works. I believe there’s a God that’s listening, but I think that we owe it to ourselves as people who believe in love and compassion to do more than a trite ‘God is listening.’ ” For Baker, it’s about really understanding someone else’s struggle and journey.

Heavy songwriting and dark lyrics aside, Baker maintains a sense of humor about it all. “I saw someone recently, and they said, ‘You quit drinking? You’re not even 21 yet,’ ” says Baker. “I was like, ‘I crammed a lot into a few years.’ “

(x)

#aw this one is v. sweet and earnest #just before she and lucy first met :’) #julien baker #interviews #2016 #january 2016 #archival

[happyocelot]

Naruhina for the angstier ship meme please!!

who is more likely to get injured doing small tasks

I think what counts as "small" and "big" would be very different for each. I distinctly remember Naruto tripping over his feet once or twice, and Gamabunta even remarks that he is a very clumsy fighter. He's definitely clumsier than Hinata. But "small" for Naruto is something requiring lots of strength but little concentration, and the opposite for Hinata. For Hinata, I think chopping up food for dinner would be a small task, but a big one for Naruto. I bet Naruto would stab his hand or burn it on the stove while cooking. Lifting heavy objects or reaching up high would be a small task for Naruto, but definitely not for someone petite like Hinata. She would be stubborn and refuse help and sprain her ankle.

who worries more about the other

They worry equally at different times, in different ways.

As a child - Naruto would worry about the way Hinata would turn red when he put a hand on her forehead. He spends years thinking she has a mysterious, dangerous rash. Later he worries about her injuries in battle and always gets heart attacks when she is in life-threatening situations

As an adult - He would worry that she's lonely when he has to perform his duties as Hokage and he always tries to make it up to her when he's free

As a child - Hinata would worry about Naruto sitting alone all by himself at the swing, living all by himself with no parents. She worried at his sorrow when the villagers would mistreat him

As an adult - Hinata worries about his health, the way he would go long stretches without eating or sleeping properly. They sometimes have arguments about him wanting to spend time with her to make up for what he believes is her loneliness, and she would get annoyed that he wouldn't rest and relax even at home. One of the rare disagreements they have.

who is more afraid about the other leaving them

As a teenager, Hinata is never worried that he will abandon her. She's just afraid that he will only ever see her a friend.

After the events of the Last, Naruto sometimes worries that she's fall out of love with him one day and find another, better guy. Sakura has none of it when he brings it up, and even gets annoyed that he would suggest such a thing.

who is more likely to leave (for any reason)

Naruto would never leave her for any reason.

Hinata might leave if she thought, in some hypothetical scenario, that her feelings weren't wanted and that she was in the way of his happiness.

who is more likely to drunkenly confess

Naruto doesn't need drunkenness to confess with no inhibitions. My money is on Hinata saying things she's kept bottled up for years, like her love for Naruto.

She would say heartfelt, sad, and angsty things under the influence and completely forget about it in the morning. Just like in "Consolation Prize: Through Her Distorted Mirror."

who is more likely to push the other away (for any reason)

As in the previous question, Hinata, if she believed she was in the way, would hurt his happiness, or was a burden to him in some way.

who picks fights more often

They very rarely fight with each other. This is a difficult scenario to imagine, but I imagine that Naruto would get irritated with her if she started constantly talking about how she's a burden to him and should just leave.

who usually apologizes first

I think Hinata is just a more apologetic person in general, but Naruto would apologize if fangirls started bothering them on a date, or if he felt that some situation was causing her discomfort.

who is more likely to withhold their feelings for the other

I can't fathom Naruto doing this. I can't see Hinata withholding her feelings either, but I do think she's a lot better at suppressing them.

who is more likely to lash out at the other

...This one is tough. I...I...don't know. Anyone want to try this one?

who gets more jealous

Both in different ways...Hinata has a quiet, suppressed jealousy. She doesn't harbor ill will towards them, but no way does she like his fangirls. Naruto is more open about his jealousy, such as towards Toneri, etc.

who is more likely to support the other in a relationship with someone else “as long as they’re happy”:

Hinata fits this question like a glove, doesn't she? Obviously Hinata. I think Naruto would feel devastated if she found someone else, but he would not support it and would never believe that the other guy had what it took to make her happy. Like in "White Lilies"!

#dayseternal-blog #asks

[theink-stainedfolk]

Nawabs

"Auzubillahi Minashaitanirajeem. Auzubillahi Minashaitanirajeem. Auzubillahi-" 

"I swear to Allah, if you don't shut your mouth, I'll leave you to fend for yourself." Ibtezam spoke through her gritted teeth. 

"This is no way to talk to the Nawab, and to your fiancé. " Zeyad spoke in a low voice. 

"In this situation, I couldn't be bothered less. This is all your fault." Right now, they were hiding behind the bushes. How, you ask? 

Well, soon after their engagement ceremony, they were granted permission to leave their palace for an outing and getting to know each other better. Who knew that someone would attack them, at least, right after the ceremony? 

"Suddenly, it's my fault? Who asked you to agree?" 

"Your father asked me to agree, Nawab Zeyad Jah." Zeyad quickly shut his mouth after hearing about his father. His father, the former Nawab, was his weakness. Though a perfect father, he could not make eye contact or sit with his father in the same room. He was delighted to be sent to Canada for higher education, it meant that he didn't have to be with him. But at the same time, he was worried about his health. He had high blood pressure and diabetes. He was almost finished with his studies when suddenly,his butler called him urgently due to his father's health deteriorating. He came immediately only to find him in bed with a request to marry. 

"My dear friend Asim has agreed to give his precious daughter's hand in marriage to you. Even though you aren't worthy of marrying such an angel, I expect you to work on yourself and prove yourself worthy until the nikah. One word from Ibtezam, and I'll cancel the marriage."  his father said in a stern voice that he had no choice but to accept. 

"Don't you feel suffocated in Niqab? Why don't you remove it? It's just us…. We are.. Engaged." Zeyad coughed. It's good that it is dark… it would hurt his pride if she had seen his red cheeks and ears. 

"Exactly."  she said. "We are just engaged, not married. It doesn't make you eligible to see my face. Kindly abide by the rules, being a Nawab does not mean you can do whatever you like." 

"I wasn't intending to do anything Ibtezam! I was just asking because it is hot. I feel myself melting! I wouldn't like you to melt too!" 

Ibtezam laughed at his words. "Thank you for worrying about me, Zeyad. But I've dealt worse, let us focus on how to get out of this place without dying. You better protect your Begum."

Her words managed to bring heat to his cheeks and fire to protect her. He apologized before tightly clutching her close to his chest as he saw someone walking close by. 

" Nawab Sahab?  Are you alright?! " It was the palace guard who left in search of them. Thankfully, he arrived at a good time. 

"Quickly take us to the palace and ask the family doctor to check Ibtezam's ankle. There might be a sprain."  

Zeyad said to the guard while picking her up in his arms.

"Yes Sahab, let me bring the car!" 

"Zeyad, it's fine, I just fell."

"Fell on the rocks. Let me do my duty Ibtezam, just like you said. Let me protect you." he said and walked towards the car and instructed the guard to drive. 

His father was mortified on seeing them covered in dust and thorns and leaves, he apologized to Asim as well as Ibtezam and requested her to rest and sent the royal physician to her chambers. Finally, everyone left and Zeyad found himself alone with his father. How terrifying. 

"You did a good job in protecting your future Begum." 

"What?"  Zeyad squeaked. After a whole day, he spoke to his father for the first time. And he is complimenting him. This must be jannah.

"I didn't expect you to protect her. In fact, I thought you'd leave her and run, you might be having the blood of Nawabs, but you spent a lot of time in Canada so I thought you became frail."

"....I still have the Nawab blood in me though. And, I've spent my entire childhood and adulthood here. I went to Canada like…6 years ago?"

"Enough time for you to forget your upbringing, but I'm glad you didn't. Ibtezam is a very special child. Just like how your studies are to you and just like how this land and heritage is to me, she is also very important to me." Zeyad found it shocking that someone managed to find such a place in his father's heart, a place reserved for him was now also a home to Ibtezam. 

"All these 6 years, when you weren't with me, I can't deny that I was lonely. Very lonely to be exact." Zeyad's heart ached to hear his father's deep sorrows he hadn't told anyone. "Asim was not enough to cease the loneliness.  One day he introduced me to his daughter,  an aspiring historian. He asked if she could stay here with him for a while until she completes her thesis, I agreed. She proved to be a pleasant surprise. Her cardamom chai is the best chai I've ever tasted!"

"Even better than my milk chai?"

His father stared at him with a smile. "Much better than the Chai you make Zeyad."

"Damn, I have to step up my game." His father laughed in response. 

"I've eaten her layered Hyderabadi biryani. And my god, I cannot forget its taste. The best I've ever eaten! She even took care of me when I was sick, I never felt lonely ever since she arrived. Such a brilliant child. Beautiful inside and out!"

"You've seen her?" Zeyad asked, surprised. 

"Ha ha, no. But I believe if a person is beautiful inside, then noor will be visible outside too. Good people have noor on their face, and so will she. Have I told you that she has never lost a chess game with me?" Though Zeyad was shocked to hear this, he didn't say anything, and quietly listened to his father's endless appreciation for his future bride. He had a desire to know more about her. She was still a mystery to him and he couldn't wait to unravel her.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing inspiration #my writing #writers #writing #writerscommunity #writers and poets #creative writing

[girl4music]

The problem with Maya as Captain over Andy or Jack.

It’s not that she’s power hungry, as Jack put it. Being power hungry isn’t necessarily a bad thing if you know and understand the benefits of collective power as well as individual power and know how to use both and to delegate effectively. I totally understand where Maya’s coming from being a woman myself that has also been made to feel like they are less than they’re worth and then the one day they get a leg up - they’re going to take it because they know what they’re worth even if they may not be ready for what they’re worth.

But Andy has a right to feel upset about being passed over for Captain because she knows she’s worth it too.

No, the problem with Maya as Captain is that she makes everyone work to HER high standards, not THEIRS. Being an Olympic gold medalist who won her victory on a sprained ankle and all, her all out certainly isn’t everyone’s all out and she’s not recognizing that. Her philosophy of “embrace the pain” won’t be helpful or even inspirational to everyone because everyone does differently, thinks differently, feels differently.

A true leader knows the difference between being a leader and being a boss. Yes, they’re both, but they recognize when one is needed over the other in different situations and circumstances with different people. Andy does. Jack does. Maya doesn’t because she’ll push and she’ll push forgetting that her limit on being pushed is way above everybody else’s limit and this is something she would learn about her team if she spent enough time in the position of a lieutenant. She’s jumping the gun because she’s being offered it and she’s hungry for it. Not because she’s ready for it.

Now if Sullivan truly thought that he had to make the call not to make Andy Captain… then he should have chosen Jack over Maya instead. I’m guessing the reasons as to why he didn’t choose Jack was because of his recent PTSD problem and the fact that he is a man and he wants a woman in leading power for once. The problem with that? They’re both discriminatory reasons because Jack has earned his position as Captain. Has had worked through and overcome his PTSD problem and he is well aware of some things that are in desperate need of change and solution and he really cares to change and resolve them. But he can only attempt to change and resolve those things if he is in a position of power. He can’t do it as a lieutenant. Being passed over for Captain just because he is a man is not right just as much as it wouldn’t be if a woman earned the position and was passed over because she’s a woman. Sullivan was discriminative in not choosing Jack if he wasn’t going to choose Andy.

If it wasn’t going to be Andy, it had to be Jack. It should not have been Maya. Maya is not ready for Captain because while she may know the team well enough to know their individual strengths and weaknesses and how to use them, she doesn’t recognize that they can’t work to her high standards. Both Andy and Jack would recognize that along with knowing their team well enough to know their individual strengths and weaknesses and how to use them to their most influential and beneficial purpose. Maya is ready for a lieutenant position, but she’s not ready for Captain because she has a lot to learn about true leadership. That’s just the truth of it no matter how much blood, sweat and tears she’s put into finally getting a leg up as a woman in a position of power.

A woman should definitely be in a position of power. But it should be Andy, not Maya, that was chosen. That’s what Andy is upset and has gone into passive-aggressive mode against Maya and Sullivan about. That she knows it’s her time to lead. She’s right. Her father has intervened yet again to prevent it because HE thinks she’s not ready for it when she absolutely is. HE thinks she’s not ready because he has no respect for her as a grown woman who knows her autonomy. Sullivan didn’t know what to do about Pruitt’s request of him. Not only may it be the final words he says to him but also Pruitt has already caught on to his feelings for Andy and so if he chose Andy as Captain against his request to not to, he’d worry that Pruitt would think that he only did it because he is in love with Andy and not because he believes she’s earned it.

The ironic thing about all this though is that’s exactly why Sullivan has fell in love with Andy. It’s because he has seen her earn her rightful position as Captain of Station 19 that has what has enamoured her to him. And he has made the wrong call to go with Pruitt’s request over his genuine love for and belief in Andy.

Sullivan should have went with his gut… And his heart.

In only one day, Maya has proven Sullivan wrong about his choice to make her Captain and Maya’s aware of it. This is only going to cause more complication and conflict within the team’s ranks and they really do not need that right now when changes need to be made. When they really need to work as a well-oiled machine and only Andy or Jack know how to run the rig right.

#station 19 #house where nobody lives #andy herrera #jaina lee ortiz #maya bishop #danielle savre #robert sullivan #boris kodjoe #jack gibson #grey damon #captain #true leadership

[bellamyblake]

OMG, please give me more of those headcanons you had in the tags of that last gif!!!!!!

of madi and bellarke being parents and Gus as the other kid? oh i love that yeah;

i think that in a parallel season 5 universe, the earth never got destroyed and bellamy got the 80 acres he negotiated;

a week or so after they settle there, he asks madi and clarke to come there too, knowing they didn't really own their home anymore because of the Eligius kru and Octavia's people making room in the valley; they were lost and have been running around from cave to cave with the rover, trying to find some peace;

it's madi who convinces clarke to stay; she's still feeling guilty about everything that happened between her and bellamy, how she let O almost kill him in the fighting pits so things between them are strained and they barely talk to each other;

they both pretend to be busy with other stuff-bellamy with building this camp and the cabins and clarke with helping monty put the crops in or showing emori and murphy how to properly cook the fish; things between bellamy and e/xho have been on the outs since they actually started the camp and bellamy has mostly resided to his own company feeling a little bit alone and lost though he had his family there;

clarke thought she was making things awkward for him;

overall they were being dumbasses who couldn't really see what was happening and madi was sick of it so she made up a plan with murphy, emori, harper and monty so that bellamy and clarke ended up on alone on a hunting trip;

things were awkward at first, they didn't really know how to talk to each other but when it got dark and the rover got stuck in the mud, they had one of their typical dropship days fights and suddenly everything just burst after that;

he cried and asked her for forgiveness for leaving her alone and not waiting for her; she apologized for leaving him in the pits and hugging him tighter than ever before;

the truth was they just missed each other; after that things settled down and madi kept finding more ways for them to hang around until they seeked each other's company on their own, mostly by the fire at night when everyone else was already asleep;

bellamy started building the cabins; it caused a lot of arguing from clarke because he oftentimes got hurt-broke a finger, fell off the roof, sprained his ankle, twisted his knee; she was always there to patch him up and give him a speech about it while he and madi shared knowing looks-clarke cared, she got angry but she loved them so much and they both knew it;

madi and bell built a special bond in those times; she helped a lot with the houses too, insisted she went out to chop and carry woods with him, sawdusted the beams, helped him draw out the blueprints and gave ideas;

by the time he was making Clarke and Madi's cabin, it was already clear that there'd be a place for him there as well, especially after they spent a particularly long day out by the river which drew out to the middle of the night when Clarke came back drunk on berry wine and bellamy had his silly goofy 'I'm-so-in-love' eyes that made Madi laugh;

it was exactly a year in since they started this camp that bellamy, clarke and madi moved in together;

the summer during the next one they got married by the river; clarke was already pregnant with their little boy by then;

it was a little worrysome for madi when the kid came along, she was afraid that clarke would forget about her especially because she wasn't her real kid but those fears quickly went away;

both bellamy and clarke made sure she knew how much she was still loved and Madi started loving being around Gus or helping Clarke out with him;

problem was when Gus started growing and she was insistent on turning him into a little rascal; they ran around freely and got themselves into trouble; Clarke didn't mind them experiencing life as it was but she could never stop worrying, the true mom that she was;

madi was determined to teach gus everything she knew-how to ride a horse, how to catch a fish, how to put snares; she was growing and she knew she'd soon leave camp, maybe go off and try her own luck at life-it bothered her and scared her, which is why she was in such a rush;

Gus was a sweet and chubby little kid, a mini copy of bellamy; the problem with him was that he had such a big heart and was so good and naive that clarke worried what the world would do to him when he grew up;

when people were mean to him, he just reached out and held their hand or smilled; when a kid pushed him on the ground, he got up and cleaned his knees, then said "That's rude. I don't like people getting hurt." even if 'people' was him;

madi was set on teaching him how to fight at least on a basic level and though clarke was against it bellamy actually supported it; he was scared for Gus because he was so good he didn't want the world to break him the way it broke him and Clarke;

Gus didn't want to hit madi back when they trained, he always turned it into a game and climbed up on her back or snuggled in her chest; madi who was now a teenager simply gave up and threw her hands in the air "It's useless...my brother's not a warrior." Gus didn't mind that, he just hugged her harder;

later on when Rory came in the picture-their third child Madi was finally happy that she had another warrior sister by her side but once little River came into their little family when Bellamy and Clarke were already much older, it got clear that he'd be the baby they most spoilled;

still, at night when the kids were asleep and bellamy and clarke sat on the front porch by the swingset he built for them, they smiled and hugged each other.

"It's a good life, princess." he said looking at the stars "I'm glad we're here."

"Me too, Bell." she reached out and kissed his cheek before snuggling on his chest again "Me too."

#bellarke fanfiction #bellarkeedit #bellarke #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #headcanons #i havent posted any in a while #i hope this is okay #my writing

[mi-burke]

          — 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐄, 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟖

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄.           After the events of the first, Milla spends a couple of nights in the hospital — but not for her own injuries, her sprained ankle is fine with bandaging and some time spent on crutches. She stays to make sure August wakes up and that he wakes up ( relatively ) okay. He saved her, and she won’t soon forget that; not if the telltale blush that now creeps up her cheeks every time his name is mentioned is any indication.          When he returns to the Institute, Milo is appalled to find out it was attacked. He’s furious. And for once in his life, he finds himself wishing he’d actually been there, where the action was. Milo would have wanted to fight alongside his friends and new family. Over the course of the month he helps Xavier’s repair and rebuild, as much as he can on crutches.          Milo hears about Finley and April, and despite being tangential to both of their lives at the Institute, he understands better than most that they may want space in the wake of trauma. Instead, he hugs Laurel tight — or as tightly as either of their injuries will allow — and tells her he couldn’t be more proud of what she did.

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐓𝐖𝐎.            Monique tells the escapees that Elliott died on 46th Street.            Milo spends the next few days locked in his room with his unresolved grief. He replays the last time he saw Elliott in his mind over, and over, and over again. He thought they’d have more time. Milo really thought they’d have more time to… who knows what. Maybe it was naïve of him to think they’d ever make up, but it was a naïve sentiment he’d been clinging to all the same. Now, he doesn’t even have that to cling to.           Milo shoulders the responsibility of traveling to visit their far-flung ninth: Cassie, who’d left the city to find her and Elliott’s mother. She doesn’t even need him to say anything; the sight of Milo on their doorstep, eyes rimmed red and a shaky ‘I’m sorry’ on his lips tell her and their mother all they need to know.           All Milo can do is think of his own mother, and how little he wants his parents to receive the same kind of news he just delivered, not when they haven’t seen him in eleven years.

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄.            It barely rains in June, so when the day of Elliott’s funeral arrives, the sky is incongruously bright. The motley collection of escapees stand apart from the Brotherhood, and Milo tries not to ruin the day’s memory with hatred for them. He knows they aren’t fully to blame. The root of every problem for the nine is and always would be Essex. Essex turned Elliott into what he was. Essex broke and divorced the warm, protective boy Elliott used to be from what he became.            Milo takes an ounce of reassurance in the thought that maybe the real Elliott died years ago. The Elliot that had fought with Milo, threatened him, that wasn’t who he was supposed to be.                       It’s cold comfort.            The escapees come to a long overdue and exceptionally difficult decision, and Milo comes to another of his own.

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑.           For the first time in over a decade, Milo stands on the doorstep of his childhood home. The car in the driveway is the same, and through the window, Milo can see the same worn armchair his dad always sat in.            His mother answers the door, and immediately bursts into tears.            The next couple of hours aren’t easy. Milo has a lot to tell them and a lot to explain. Both of his parents take the news of his being a mutant with passive, carefully metered responses. They offer milquetoast support, evasive ‘we love you no matter what’s, but Milo can tell the news will take time to adjust to. He pushes forward anyhow, and tells them about Essex House. His mother starts to sob again when he shows them his scars, and his father’s fists ball angrily on his knees.            Milo tells them what he has to do, and their support evolves into something much more genuine. His mother wraps him in a hug, one his father soon joins to collect them both close. This time, when Milo cries, it isn’t just tears of grief. An empty space that’d sat deep, deep in Milo’s heart for so long feels a little less empty.            He feels better prepared for what’s to come.

         Milo will also, over the course of June, slowly but surely start introducing Milla to friends and found family. Please feel free to assume your muse may now know! If you’d like to headcanon in more detail, my DMs are always open.

#about. #a. specter. #l. cunningham. #e. winslow. #m. washington. #summary: no church in the wild finale

[yayaidea]

Become a foolish because of a woman

written by Chakriya PHOU

My life was at peace for a long time. No one came to disturb me. Not because they feared me, but because there were many new bridges nearby.

New bridged, beautiful, big, fancy, well designed and decorated with beautiful flowers and lights.

While I was sleeping happily, I heard footsteps. When I opened my eyes, oh my, a lady. She had a pretty face, slender figure, curling hair and wearing a thin cloth wrapping around her chest and short jeans showing her smooth skin legs. My saliva fell. But the pretty woman looked at me from a distance, then looked at her four-foot-high heels. She stood for a moment before she walked away towards the new bridge.

I was a little sad, but I understood that she was not wrong to cross the new bridge. She wore high heels, you know? High heels!

I continued laying and looking at the sky. Suddenly, footsteps appeared again. I turned and saw it was the pretty woman at the last moment. She didn't walk properly. Oh my pretty lady! I ran towards her.

The pretty woman cried and told me that she was bullied when she was crossing the new bridge. There were a lot of people. Most of them stood on it to have fun, causing a traffic jam. Because she was in a hurry, she tried to go against them and they blamed her and scolded her. She was angry but she didn’t dare to fight with them because they had money and power. She decided to come back down and sprained her ankle.

After listening, I was very angry. They were bad, they dared to abuse my pretty woman.

I volunteered to allow her to cross to the other side. The woman nodded and smiled. But I told her that I was an old bridge, so she should walk slowly. But she walked very fast. When I reminded her, she showed me a giant’s face and said, “If I knew that you are such a damn bridge, I wouldn’t step on.”

Her words made me unlock my lips. But since I pitied her, I told myself to bear it. When she arrived in the middle, I saw her underwear was torn.

“Pretty woman, your panties are torn,” I told.

“Your head is torn, low bridge,” she yelled. “You dare to say I wear torn panties. It is a fashion underwear.” She stared at me and shouted at me with a high pitch, “Don’t think yourself too high. You are a low bridge. You gain honor because I use you. Don’t act like you are my savior. It’s me who helps you.”

Oh my heart was hurt. It was very hurtful. I was very sad, so I soaked myself into the mud, forgetting that that pretty woman was still walking on.

“Crazy bridge!” She jumped to the bank and yelled. “The old bridge, the broken bridge. You want to make me fall into the mud, don’t you? You are cheap, you are low. Do not expect me to come again.” Then she swiped her ass and walked away.

I was so sad. Why? I helped her cross to the other side; I was afraid that she would be laughed at if they saw her underwear was torn. But she said I was low, cheap and wanted to embarrass her.

I looked up at the sky. The sky became dark. Maybe it wanted to cry with me.

“Sky,” I shouted. “Do you feel sorry for me?”

"I have no pity."

I opened my eyes wide, "The sky knows how to speak! ”

“It’s me.”

I turned to the owner of the voice. It was a cricket and it was staring at me.

"Woman's curse. Delicious?”

I dropped my face.

Cricket continued, "Just seeing she sprained her legs, you ran to help. Finally, what do you get? Cheap, low, old, ugly. Who told you to help her? Don’t you remember what humans did to you. Stupid. Still you ask the sky to be sad together with you. See, it has no light, causing me to be unable to dry my underwear.”

After saying that, the crickets went into the hole angrily.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, then I took a deep breath. It was the last time; I would never help humans. Ever.

#chakriya phou #dolphin4d #dolphin 4d #happy piglet #yaya idea #what to drink in phnom penh #what to drink in cambodia #creative writing #metaphor

[cutebutahandful]

spoilt and happy

lonch w J on monday!! long overdue, luv listening 💕

belated galentines w the bbs: so tired but so happy and fulfilled

dinner w M - first in two years, more to come

M said it was okay that i was in love w [redacted] still and that they understood but wished better for me - i wish the same too but it was nice to have someone understand and have been where i am

first swim after ankle sprain

flowers (not from algernon but avery)

handmade pasta and head on J's shoulder, feeling very sayanged and very tired

bowls and boxing w JY!!

bumped into WJ & BH in the bathroom of all places ("are you married?!" / gym guy / office days / blonde hair)

said i wanted donuts, 6 ppl bought me donuts (we don't even have a donut place near the studio) (ok and then i had 2 many donuts but then i could share)

when L called me back 🥺🥺🥺 we all kno i like L and when i realized he liked me too (vs just indulging me) 🥺😭💕🥺😭💕🥺😭💕

nü matcha place: hole in the wall udon with rly grassy green tea that cleansed the palate then going subterranean w ZY to find rly rly smooth roasted hojicha. owner of new matcha place was also so sweet 10/10

3 nü books

nfs caught me dancing 2 macklemore in the year 2024 - she laughed and it was a lil (a lot) embarrassing but it's nice to hear her laugh

people being v supportive of me keeping it halal for ramadan without making me feel like im Weird (even tho i shouldnt care about that bc im doing what is Right)

realisation i now choose practicality over pretty, having a moment of crisis freaking out over whether i am settling by being ügly and not deliberately being extra, resolving the crisis by realizing im still hot regardless

my memory has been awful since 2022 so putting recent happinesses here so i don't forget

happiness to look forward to:

p**** and umrah insyaallah

pilates once my ankle is at 100 (i miss u and my stairmaster and my weights)

1.5x!!!!!!

chng launch in mar

mar w amon

cherry blossoms

apr w bryan

apr w russ

may w alex (hopefully)

hiphopplaya

seoul jazz fest

hamilton

dear evan hansen

tour!!!!!! 🥳

[made-ofmemories]

A Shift Know No Peace (snippet)

I have not yet decided if this is a permanent title or not, but we are rolling with it for now.

I took part in the '24 hour WIP poll' tag game and said I would post a snippet for whichever fic got the most votes. '5+1 of the crazy calls A shift respond to from pov of B shift' won so here's a little excerpt for you guys (More under the cut).

This whole concept was taken (with permission) from a prompt in the 118 discord server. Also, Rosa and Curtis are OC's because we haven't really seen much of B shift in the actual show. Excerpt-

A shift is on call the day of the tsunami. Rosa doesn’t think it’s that weird, devastating and tragic yes, but natural disasters happen and someone had to be on shift for it. The fact that it just so happens to be A shift doesn't mean anything.

The warehouse robot malfunction, skydiving incident, and meteor strike she hears about through a combination of directly from the source at shift change and B shift gossip. Now, she can admit- those? Those are weird. 

She’s sitting in a pre-shift briefing listening to the B shift Captain (Captain Peters) talk about Eddie Diaz of the 118’s A shift being trapped in a well during a rescue gone wrong when she finally realizes that all those stories she heard of the infamous A shift back when she was a probie weren’t exaggerated after all.

She doesn’t know how they do it. Or how any of them are still breathing to be perfectly honest, it feels like every other story she hears involves one of them and another near-death experience. Meanwhile, the weirdest thing she has seen since joining the fire department is that one guy who got attacked by a squirrel and her worst injury, a sprained ankle.

The part that concerns her the most, however, is how A shift treats all of this as if it's perfectly normal.

Like right now as she’s stuffing her bag into her locker before her shift begins and listening to Chimney regaling the highlights of A shift's latest adventures. Eddie Diaz is at the next locker down offering the occasional murmur of agreement and there are some other B shift members milling around paying varying levels of attention to the conversation, Curtis included.

There was a bus crash, which seems pretty routine until Chimney adds the tiny detail of the bus being several stories up sticking out of a high-rise as casually as if he’s discussing the morning weather. That’s before they even get to the landslides. 

“Oh, don’t forget to tell them about the illegal adoption ring we found,” Buckley walks in then, pointing a finger in Chimney's direction as he speaks.

Rosa knew Buck by reputation long before they ever crossed paths on a shift change. He was the one injured in the ladder truck incident that happened during her second week on the job. He wasn’t working a whole lot after that. First during his recovery and then after that something to do with blood clots and lawsuits. Rosa didn’t really know the full story there and based on the limited information she did have the further away she was from that whole mess the better as far as she was concerned.

“Right can’t forget that,” Eddie deadpans as Buck reaches over his shoulder to grab something out of the locker because- they share apparently? Something about that doesn't surprise her at all.

“Sorry, did he just say the illegal adoption ring?” Curtis’ eyebrows have climbed so far up his forehead that she’s starting to worry about them getting lost in his hairline.

#Some background Buddie moments but the focus is on A shift being chaotic mostly #Also this is unedited so uh just ignore the mistakes #911 fic #911 #I have no idea what to tag this as

[ahundredtimesover]

the amount of times i refresh your page just to check for an update is actually insane. it was the same for the last chapter, just that i didn't have immediately rave on about the chapter since i was pretty stressed due to exams last week

the last two chapters were soooo good. i was literally kicking my feet in the air when jungkook was in oc's apartment. also, there's this growing gentleness and warmth that's so ingrained in this fic, and that has been so prominent in the last few chapters. jungkook and y/n both are such warm people that carry all these burdens with themselves, and just desperately want to be seen and understood. i can't stress enough as to how much human they seem.

the part where jungkook gets all scared and y/n covers his ears, and comforts him is so so incredibly beautiful. there's this understanding they have that's just so incredibly pretty to read, and to watch it unfold during times like these is just🥲🤍

the last part where y/n finally admits her being comforted by jungkook😭😭 the way i gasped (mind you i do that a lot) and a hundred different emotions crashed down on me. istg this series is the going to be the death of me. but honestly, it's one of the best romance tales i've ever read. their chemistry, their characterization as well as just the setting and all the details of the fic are so beautifully and immaculately done, mimi🤍

it's not just them, but godd i love yoongi as well. he's so precious, and seeing him genuinely root for oc gets me soft everytime, and seeing him always take care that y/n eats, even while she was home due to her sprained ankle is just so heartwarming. his little gestures are just so sweet🥹

i'm in awe of this fic and oh my god, i can't explain the pang of sadness that hits me when i reach the end of the chapter everytime.

i'm so in love with this fic, and with oc and jungkook🥹🤍✨️

also, i've been listening to stay on repeat. it's literally the only song i listen to every single damn day😭 it just reminds me of the fic and i'm filled with all the yearning of it all whenever i listen to it.

that's enough of a rant for today, and i hope you have an amazing week ahead of you, and don't forget to catch a breath during busy time since i read that you've been working extra hours as well the past week. well, take care and keep me blessed with this fic bcs it has become my elixir at this point😭✨️

HIIII I’m sorry this is late. My head’s just all over the place but WOW THIS MAKES MY HEART SMILE 🥹🥹 I love how you noted the “growing gentleness and warmth” of the fic; it’s something I tried to bring in through every single character. But especially with the MCs - OC is quite subtle; she’s not affectionate or anything but she’s someone comfortable to be around. Jk, we’re learning, has that softness in him, too, very attentive and caring but it takes so much for that side of him to surface. And these are people with their own burdens but who have so much to give, and isn’t that what we try to do as people? Thank you for pointing that out 😌😌

And I love that I could make you feel those things! Sweaaar I play these scenes in my head and I’m just happy you guys see it, too 🥹

Yoongi is another gentle soul. He’s very sweet and he’s very casual about it and that makes it better! But I wanted to show healthy friendships, too!

And Omg, isn’t Stay just so perfect! There’s this “I don’t know what it is but I need it” feel about the song that’s reflective of this story. Glad you’ve been listening to it 💕

Thank you. I’ve been trying to get rest and I hope you are, too! I hope your exams went well ☺️ I appreciate this so much!

#mimianswers #fic: iwyts

[autistic-robin]

party headcanons for the soul

after the byers family moves, max sends el long letters in the mail about what’s happening in hawkins and little notes she and lucas and dustin have passed back-and-forth in class so that el can still feel included in their group (because max knows how bad it feels to feel distant/excluded from the party)

mike and will have nightly phone calls where they plan campaigns for thanksgiving and winter break— they get so into it sometimes that mike forgets to come down for dinner or will completely abandons his homework

joyce and murray stay in touch and sometimes he visits them to rattle off conspiracy theories and keep them in-the-know about hawkins

also, murray is OBSESSED with el and will because, hello— el has superpowers and was raised in a lab?! will survived a week in an alternate dimension AND a possession?! he has lots of questions and they act like they’re annoyed, but really they both think he’s hilarious

jonathan shows el his stereo and gets her into the talking heads, the clash, the psychedelic furs, and the cure. whenever she’s upset or has a bad day at school, she listens to them on the walkman max gave her

mike goes to max when he realizes he’s in love with will. she’s frustrated at first (“so you were just USING el this whole time?!” “max, i didn’t even know i liked guys! jesus, i’m trying to ask for advice here!”) but once she realizes how freaked out he is, she’s supportive and encourages him to talk to will about it.

lucas sends will comics in the mail, and will sends lucas drawings of a character will’s based off of him— the hero’s superpowers include “earth-shaking sarcasm” and “ability to shoot fireworks from his fingertips”. lucas loves the drawings and puts them up on his bedroom wall.

el and will have nightly “therapy sessions” on will’s bedroom floor, except they don’t actually talk. they just draw with crayons or read to each other, because they both find the most comfort in distraction.

sometimes steve gets bored at family video and calls jonathan (because dustin knows the byers’ home phone number by heart) to debate with him about his taste in movies and music. jonathan acts like he hates it, but he never hangs up first.

robin and steve play a running game at work where they whisper-narrate customers’ inner monologues when they’re out of earshot. they also dub over customers’ voices if they’re talking in the store.

mike starts working multiple jobs to save up for will’s birthday gift— a realistic wizard’s staff just like the drawings will made when they first came up with will the wise. it has “crazy together” engraved on it.

nancy babysits erica when lucas has basketball games to go to.

whenever lucas and max are in a fight and have to sit together with the party at lunch, dustin plays mediator/couple’s therapist while mike tries to get them to fight even more. (“you know, max, lucas told me he actually did remember your anniversary, he just wasn’t sure what to get you so he pretended to forget.” “mike, you’re not helping!” “who said i was trying to?”)

el really wants a dog and begs joyce daily for one. will gets dragged into the campaign and makes protest-style posters that they parade around the house with whenever the topic comes up.

dustin and el talk on cerebro every week— most of their conversations consist of complaining about how dramatic their friends are. sometimes dustin will ask el her opinion on lucas and max’s latest conflict, and her answer is always to tell max to dump his ass.

mike and max start getting closer after he comes out to her, and she teaches him how to skateboard one day when the rest of the party is busy. he’s terrible at it and ends up spraining his ankle, but it’s the most fun he’s had since the byerses moved away.

robin draws on steve’s hands when she’s bored.

max and dustin make running commentary to each other whenever their teachers show the class a video or a movie.

nancy always plays madonna in the car when she drives mike to work, and he complains about it but ends up actually liking some of her music. when he mentions it to will on the phone, will laughs for a minute straight. (“what?! stop laughing at me, lucky star is a classic!” “mike, i need to convert you to the cure.”)

mike tries to call will but el picks up instead, and they end up having a long heart-to-heart about mike’s feelings for will. he apologizes profusely, and el, while a little upset that he lied to her, says it’s okay. when they’re finally done hashing everything out, she asks him if girls can like other girls. mike is just like “THAT’S your take-away?” but internally he’s freaking out because holy shit, are el and max a thing?

steve helps lucas practice before every basketball tournament. dustin watches them from the sidelines and cheers whenever lucas gets past steve.

the party goes to all of lucas’ basketball games and is obnoxiously loud. they make giant signs with glitter— courtesy of erica’s craft supplies collection— and blow noisemakers when he scores a point. lucas acts embarassed and annoyed with them for it, but he secretly loves it.

mike starts letting his hair grow out, and holly likes practicing braiding it while he does his homework at the kitchen table. when she gets it tangled, he threatens to cut it, but they both know he won’t.

el gets really into experimenting with makeup, and sometimes will asks if he can borrow her eyeshadow to wear at home. he likes being artistic with it and el ends up liking his technique so much that he becomes her personal makeup artist.

el sends mike a photo of will wearing eyeshadow in the mail and he immediately calls her and deadpans, “never speak to me again.” el just giggles and hangs up because will’s looking at her weird.

#byler s4 #st4 headcanons #stranger things #stranger things headcanon #platonic stobin #byler #platonic madwheeler

[lovely-keii]

From Us - Kuroo Tetsurou

From Us Masterlist

“Welcome to From Us! A show where two past lovers come together and answer a series of questions! What happens when a pair of people who might still harbor feelings for each other come together?”

“Welcome back to From Us, where I get jealous over these people who seem to have perfect relationships! I’m Viv, your host and our contestants of the day is Kuroo Tetsurou and Y/N L/N!”

Kuroo: I’m Kuroo. <winks, grin>

Y/N: What-

Kuroo: Forget I ever did that.

Y/N: <staring at Kuroo> Uh, I’m Y/N-

Kuroo: Why are you staring at me like I’m crazy?

Y/N: You’re not crazy?

Kuroo: <places hand over heart> nO!

[How did you two meet?]

Y/N: He had the hots for me since day 1.

Kuroo: eXCUSE ME?

Y/N: I was just reading and doing my own thing then he goes and sits next to me. Tell them what you said.

Kuroo: <blushing> Are you a carbon sample? Because I want to date you.

Y/N: <wheezes>

Kuroo: It’s not funny!

Y/N: It is! <laughing>

[How did you two know you loved each other?]

Y/N: Oh, I don’t know this one. Please, do tell.

Kuroo: You do realize you’re going to have to answer too, right? <smacks her head>

Y/N: Yes, but I have full confidence that mine probably won’t be as embarrassing as yours. <rubs her head, grinning>

Kuroo: She took my pen and I was like “damn, I wanna marry her.”

Y/N: <cocks eyebrow> Sir, what the hell?

Kuroo: Your turn.

Y/N: Okay, but what the hell? Anyways, I realized when his dumbass fell asleep on me.

Kuroo: I fell asleep on you many times.

Y/N: The first time.

Kuroo: Oh. <thinking>

Y/N: You don’t remember, do you?

Kuroo: No.

[How did the first kiss happen?]

Y/N: Ah yes, you were so bold.

Kuroo: No, I was so jealous.

Y/N: Yeah, I know.

Kuroo: You knew?

Y/N: That’s why I kept talking to him, duh. You look funny when you’re jealous.

Kuroo: I’ve been told I look hot when jealous.

Y/N: I told you that.

Kuroo: Exactly.

Y/N: So I was talking to this guy and he was like “Y/N, let’s go” so I ignored him. Then he just kissed me in front of the dude. The guy left.

Kuroo: He’s gonna get nightmares for the rest of his life.

Y/N: <snorts>

[How did you two start dating?]

Y/N: I actually asked him out. Kinda.

Kuroo: I said something about her looking nice and so she said “then why don’t you date me?”.

Y/N: We both stopped functioning for a good minute there.

Kuroo: So then I asked her out properly and then we started dating. But why didn’t we just confess earlier?

Y/N: I have no idea.

Kuroo: You knew I liked you and I knew you liked me so why-

Y/N: No idea.

-in a separate room by yourself-

[What is one thing you never got to tell him?]

Y/N: I guess I never told him that I really do love him and that I enjoy spending time with him. I guess our relationship was really playful and fun, but I want him to know that when I said I love him, I meant it.

[Why did you date him?]

Y/N: He was so reliable and responsible. He’s fun but he also has my back and I can always rely on him. I guess I really appreciate him and how much he cared for me.

-in a separate room by himself-

[What is one thing you never got to tell her?]

Kuroo: That she can loosen up around me. I guess she has this wall around her and I want her to let it all down and open up around me because I wouldn’t ever hurt her.

[Why did you date her?]

Kuroo: She wanted the best for me, always. Even if sometimes, it doesn’t show, I know that she watches out for me and she checks in a lot.

[What’s something the both of you always did, just the two of you?]

Y/N: Study dates!

Kuroo: <smiles>

Y/N: We’d go to the library or a cafe and we just study together. He always tries to mess around, though.

Kuroo: Because studying gets boring.

Y/N: But I don’t wanna fail!

Kuroo: You wouldn’t have! You’re smart!

Y/N: <laughs>

[What’s your favorite memory with them?]

Kuroo: We were at this game and these girls were crowding up on me. She was just standing there and laughing her ass off.

Y/N: I know I should be jealous but they were all up on you. <laugh>

Kuroo: So I called her over to save me. She kissed me in front of everyone.

Y/N: You were drowning in girls, I didn’t want you to die!

Kuroo: As you should.

Y/N: Mine is when I sprained my ankle! He carried me around for the whole day!

Kuroo: I’m amazing.

Y/N: You are. <smiling>

[The thing you loved the most about them?]

Y/N: His help. He helped me do a lot. He’s so-

Kuroo: I’m so helpful!

Y/N: And smart.

Kuroo: And hot.

Y/N: If you weren’t completely ravishing, I wouldn’t have dated you. <grinning>

Kuroo: Thank you, but don’t forget I’m a genius. <smirking> I loved her support.

Y/N: I know, I’m very supportive. <grinning>

Kuroo: That, you are.

[The thing you hated the most about them?]

Kuroo: She was so mean.

Y/N: I was not!

Kuroo: You called my hair an alien baby.

Y/N: IT WAS STICKING UP UNDER WATER!

Kuroo: My hair is just talented!

Y/N: It probably ingests glue when you’re asleep.

Kuroo: My hair is amazing!

Y/N: He was too rational sometimes.

Kuroo: I’d like to think I’m the fair amount of rational and emotional.

Y/N: Do you know how annoying it is when you’re mad and he’s just looking calm and composed?

Kuroo: Not my fault I’m so mature.

Y/N: You <points to him> are an idiot.

[How did you feel about each other before this?]

Y/N: I was actually nervous, because he was my ex and all.

Kuroo: I realized that you were the person that tripped over air and shouted at a table for bumping into it. So I was less nervous.

Y/N: The table bumped into me!

Kuroo: Whatever you say. <smirking>

Y/N: I’m a better flirt. <smug>

Kuroo: <gasp> HOW DARE YOU?

[How do you feel now?]

Y/N: Hot. <beaming>

Kuroo: You are. <lifts leg up>

Y/N: Yes, thank you. <pushes his leg down>

Kuroo: I feel absolutely amazing. <strikes a pose, falls off chair>

Y/N: THAT MUST HURT! <wheezes>

Kuroo: It does! Help me up!

Y/N: <laughing> Okay, hold on! <gets up from chair>

[How were fights like?]

Y/N: Aggravating.

Kuroo: Irritating. <rolls eyes>

Y/N: One person would be all mad and the other would be all “I am at peace with the heavens” calm and it was annoying.

[How did you break up?]

Y/N: Mutual business.

Kuroo: She was busy and I was busy so we both said that we’ll break up and maybe when we meet again, we could try again.

Y/N: This was a nice way of meeting.

Kuroo: <nods> It was.

[Are you willing to try again?]

Kuroo: Are you down?

Y/N: Yeah, I’m down.

Kuroo: Same here.

“And two months! I didn’t even think these two broke up! They came into the studio and it was all flirt! Time to check on Y/N and Kuroo!”

[How are you guys?]

Y/N: <legs on his lap> I’m doing amazing.

Kuroo: I’m massaging her feet.

Y/N: Therefore, you’re doing fantastic.

Kuroo: I’m massaging your feet.

Y/N: You love me, so you do it.

Kuroo: <rolls eyes, grinning> I love you so I do it.

Taglist: [Closed]

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