My reaction to ep 36 of dungeons and daddies

bleed american, collide with the sky, bayside, is a real boy, the all-american rejects, we the kings.........all albums i thought i'd do Heinous things in order to see live. but. ugh. fuck! the Expense!!!

𝐓𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐞, 𝐔𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐞, 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 | getō suguru

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: rigger! Geto x fem/afab! reader - shibari; rope bondage (boxtie, breast, crotch, elbow) - blindfolded - gagged (handkerchief) - fingering (f! receiving) - pleasure denial - oral (m! receiving) - pet names (angel, baby, little/pretty bird, sweetie, ) - mention of drool/saliva and tears.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: c'mon now, y'all KNOW geto would be into rope play. matter of fact, it's canon cuz I'm part of gege's assistant team, lol. also, tysm for 2.5k, y'all are too kind ♡

inspired by a talk b/w me and @ramonathinks (ily hon!!)

"Thank you so much for the help, Geto."

"No problem, now be good and always behave from now on."

"Oh, I will!" The spiky raven-haired offers a warm smile to the woman as two men usher her out of his room, the three dark figures seen from the sliding door disappearing with footsteps heading to the corner of the hallway. Geto then gets up from the tatami flooring and stretches. 

He then stands and looks at the door for three seconds. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty.

After a full minute, his purple eyes peer at the sliding door to his right, taking light steps when approaching the room next door. Geto hovers an ear next to the door, trying to hear something from the other side if it contrasts with the silence of the room he’s currently in. He gives it a few more seconds before sighing through his nostrils, a sly smile creeping up. Geto brings a hand to the handle, finally sliding it to the right and revealing what was inside.

And to his mischievous glee, his smile grows from ear to ear. Because it wasn’t a what that had him chuckling to himself — it was a who. 

And who laid on the tatami floor before him was you. You were nude, your body covered in red rope, your mouth gagged by a red handkerchief, and your eyes covered in a black blindfold. 

There, you lay on your side on the floor. The red rope around your body restrains your arms and hands behind your back in a boxtie position, and your bare chest prompts up for exposure. The cord separates your breasts to each side, leaving a unique and alluring design that crosses throughout your abdomen and down south. No undergarments in sight; therefore, your chasm was out in the room’s air, the red cable slithering down between your folds, leaving a wet residue on the strict texture. 

And, good Lord. The whimpers you use to comfort yourself in this situation. All naked and isolated to the confines of this dark room, away from light and hospitality. Your meek voice is the only thing that holds familiarity to you. That is until you hear Geto close the door behind himself, the sounds of his light footsteps dancing around the room.

“Well, hello there, little bird.” The warm tone in his voice sent shivers down your spine, for you could hear the words parade condescendingly. Geto walks around the room, lighting up the candles. The smell of smoke and the rosy scent enter your nostrils. “Sorry for leaving you in the dark like this. Were you lonely?”

 He can only hear the mumbles confined from the handkerchief, which he can only assume was confirmation. “I apologize, baby. I had to leave our little session to tend to some business with some monkeys.” He said the last word with such slight vexation; you were bright to listen hard enough to catch it. Geto comes to you and sits next to your restricted body. “But now, you have my full attention, sweetie.” 

Cold, slender fingers touch your cheek, causing you to jerk at the sensation. It makes him snicker. “You know why I have you like this, yeah?” His palm cups your cheek, thumb swiping off drool at the corner of your mouth. “I saw you, my pretty bird, in the garden yesterday. You looked so beautiful and pure with the world — my world.” They snake down to your neck and brush your collarbone. His fingertips now become warm from the friction of your enchanting skin. “Then, I saw some parasite — a man worth for sore eyes — come and talk to you. He even had the gall to touch your hands with his filthy palms.” The hand now comes to your breast, a small gasp when they brush your nipples. “And you, such an amiable and accepting person, let him touch you like that. Unbeknownst to my vision.” Those same digits tweeze the bud or your mound, resulting in a sharp pant covered by the cloth in your mouth. “Who? Who told you to let that happen? Hmm?” 

Of course, he doesn’t wait for your response; what response? Your muffled moans and puffs of air? How silly. Geto brings his mouth to your other nipple, taking it in and sucking on it. The lapping motions of his tongue and the grazes of his teeth distract you from his hand snaking down with the red rope to your cunt. His digits now intrude on your southern lips, playing with your wetness in a teasing manner. And when you feel his forefinger about to enter your slit, you can’t help but sway your hips to invite him in. And it’s detected by the raven-haired man.

“Oh? You want me to put them inside, baby?” He already knows the answer; it’s no surprise when you nod helplessly. However, he clicks his tongue. “I don’t know, angel. Or should I even call you that anymore — how can an angel of mine be stained by the stench of such a foul monkey, huh.” His fingers move away from your cunt, now toying with the flesh of your inner thigh. Oh, the way your brows trench and how you whine for him. It always awakens something in him — something carnal. And how can he subject himself to the cries of his little bird? “Alright, alright. But if you really want me so badly, prove it to me. You can do that, right?” 

Geto removes his hand and mouth from your body, your chasm and nipples feeling outcasted from his warm touch. You jolt when the handkerchief in your mouth loosens and soon meets the tatami floor. Yet, your vision is still shielded by the black cloth. “Su–Suguru,” you chant his name in trembles. “Please forgive me, I—“

“I will forgive you,” the sound of clothing rustling fills the space, indicating that he’s now removing his monk attire. The black yukata comes undone, revealing his upper body while he pulls his pants down to his thighs. Something touches the plump of your lips, the tip seeking entry to your oral cavity. “Just suck me off like you always do, and all will be forgiven. You’re still my angel, right?” And with that, you accept the head of his cock with patient yearning, hallowing your cheeks while your tongue welcomes the underside of his limb. And it takes everything in Geto’s power not to rut your face with relentless vigor. He wants to take this slow first. He needs to see if you deserve his kindness. “Mmmm, good. Just like that…”

A few bobs to the base of his length is enough to put you in a trance, especially with the blindfold hindering your sense of vision, forcing you to rely on others. His smell is so intoxicating, the taste of his precum overcoming your tastebuds and the slap of his balls on your chin. Unhurried thrusts slowly but surely dial up to speed by the seconds. Your euphoric hums become frequent as his dick hits the back of your throat, every inch of him sinking deep into your mouth and throat that strains of saliva streak down to the dent of your chin. Your toes curl when he grinds his pelvis down to your lips, nose pressed to the pubes that fill your nostrils with his raw scent. Good God, it feels so good, the throbbing sensation in your chasm between your legs flourishing within.

And it goes the same for Geto, too. Both his hands find purchase on your head, keeping you in position for him to rut your face. Your tight throat grips him so nicely, the gummy walls holding onto him so deliciously that he can’t fight the wanton need anymore. Erratic hits to your face become apparent, making your mouth soaped with saliva that drips down to the room flooring. And you take the jabs to the back of your throat with ease, mewling on his cock with pleasure while being used like a toy as the head of his shaft bullies your insides. 

He pulls his head back, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as his body jerks to the electric shocks climbing up. He’s close/ So, so close. “…Haaahh—Mmmph!! Damn, you feel so good for me…I’m cumming, angel. Gonna—Ahhhh! Christ…Hmmph!!” With gritted teeth, Geto drills his dick deep within your throat, the warm fluid excreting out his glans greeting its velvety walls. Blissful hums from you vibrate your throat, sending shivers to Geto while he experiences his crescendo. 

When he’s finally done with his high and his load is inside you, he gradually removes his length from you. The tip of his cock resting on your tongue, which licks off any excess come. He then moves to free your shut eyelids from the black blindfold, your eyes fluttering at the scene of the warmly dimmed room, and Geto is now inches away from your face. Your watery eyes sparkle from the candlelight, and tears strike down and slide down your breast until the red rope captures it. “Forgive me, Suguru. I will always be yours. Only yours…”

He gives you a playful sneer, using a finger to wipe a tear from your cheek. He'd be a fool if he let you off the hook, especially now when you look at him as if he's your entire world. That's all he wants from the person he loves more than anything.

“You’re forgiven. And now, my pretty bird,” you can see the slight devious glint that harbors in his dark, violet eyes. 

“I shall reward you.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – transparent edit made by me + dividers from @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

rock-star! hobie x super-star! reader headcannons

ooc!hobie (maybe). gn!reader. mentions of girlfriend one time but that it. black coded!reader but its not heavy or anything. reader was supposed to be a rapper but i like the idea of a super star instead. i wanted to make the reader like sexyy red that didn't happen. theres a suggestive part. idk how to write his accent

color coded text: hobie , you

you guys are more alike than you think. touring, getting into fights, sometimes your music topics intersect beating people down, stealing peoples partners, rebelling against the system in some way, shape or form.

but where you're different is how you market yourselfs. hobies band is more about being loud about the hate for conforming and the system. they're vocal about political issues, they almost get banned from tv multiple times for broadcasting ideas that the man doesn't like.

you on the other hand, are seen as the super star of your generation. you rap, sing dance—you're the real deal. your music is very diverse depending on what you want to go for; you could sing the most heart wrenching songs about one sided love and the next track you could be rapping about getting white girl wasted and getting ████ed in the ████ in the car before an award show (which may or may not have happened).

anyways! you two keep your relationship as private as you can. you don't really talk about each other in interviews, you have a couple songs about each other but it's not really a common thing.

theres a lot of paparazzi pics of you two together though. theres pics of you and hobie walking out of after parties together, hanging with his friends, coming back from the grocery store and many, many photos of you two hugging and kissing.

hobie has like this sixth sense that makes him always find the camera so sometimes theres pictures of him grabbing as much of your ass as he can while smirking at the camera man thats walking behind you (which you didn't know whats there btw)

and every single times he dose that theres always a second picture of you hitting the back of his head or grabbing his ear.

*click* *click* *click* "stop doing that!" your face was getting hotter from embarrassment as you turned the corner faster trying to get away from the camera man. hobie could only smirk as he caught up to you easily, putting his hand on your shoulders before pulling you closer.

bringing one of his hands to your waist as the other snaked from your shoulder to your chest. "c'mon luv, you know i can't resist..." his breath hitting your ear as he leaned in to smell your neck before being cut off by a hit to his chest. you could practically hear his smirk as he pushed your hips back into his.

your stomach started to naught as you felt it on your behind. you closed your eyes almost forgetting the situation. *click* *clock* *click* your eyes snapped open as your hear the camera man behind you.

"oh hush you just think you're funny." hobie couldn't even hold back his laugh as he watched you walk in front of him with your arms crossed. "well it is! n' don't act like you don't like it."

if you're shy & bashful he would love to embarrass you but not in a ddg/halle bailey way but in a "omgggg stop guys🙈" kind of way like why is he parading around in a 'i 🩷 my gf' shirt and making out with you on national television

hobie dose not think it's right to be controlling over his partners nor dose he believe that you should be subservient to him—now with that being said he feels sick to his stomach when you collaborate with certain artists.

you had a song about partying in the club and your male feature was talking about fucking on you he couldn't even bring himself to post the song on a ig story. he actually fell to his knees !!!

speaking of feeling sick! if you ever twerk on someone just for a performance or have to grind on someone during a dance he doesn't get super angry or whatever but in the inside he's like 'im abt to kms'. he's very dramatic!!

he hates when people try to put you in the role of just being his partner and nothing else—he will literally sit there and argue with someone if they ever try to sit there and say you're nothing but a pretty face.

he feels a certain way if you ever get uber rich. he knows thats most if not all artist want to live comfortably and he understands that you aren't the corrupt system that exploits others, hell you're getting exploited in some way.

BUT if you ever have a million dollars his would would feel a little VERY unsettled. he'd probably break up with you lol he wouldn't want to sound like a hater but he'd try to be like "heyyy how about we donate some money to a shelter or something🙈🫶🏿💗❓"

but if you're dating him he won't have to worry about that because you have to be at least a little political (and he'd have to agree with your views)

you might not be an anarchist, you don't even have to classify yourself with one political party but you have to at least be anti-capitalist, anti-establishment and pro-black.

speaking of politics he gets arrested all the time for protesting and you'll have to get used to that. like every few weeks you will have to pic him up from jail because he was arrested for conspiracy to riot or something on the lines of that.

IF you two ever collab you'll have to find a middle ground because he cannot sing (that is cannon!) and you should never try to get him too unless you want your engineer to be slaving away trying to get him to sound listenable.

he's lowkey your arm candy and he doesn't mind it at all. like if you get invited to the grammies or something he'll always come with you (his group will most likely never get nominated bc of the topics they like to talk about.) but he's never wearing a suit he just likes to dress like this:

in return you'll probably have to dress in a lot of black id you want to match or don't... he'll be like your statement piece for the night

if he's with you when you get your first award he'll literally pic you up and jump up and down with you for a few seconds before letting you go

if you normally win at award shows he just kisses you for a few seconds before letting go up to accept it

either way doesn't like to go up on stage with you hen you accept awards because he feels like he takes away from your moment but he dose walk you off and on stage. the only way he'll ho up on stage with you is if you're like crying really heavy then.

his band mates probably thought you were gonna be the hit it & quit it type because usually punks and non-punks don't last long but they were a little surprised when 1) you two lasted long and 2) you agreed with their views despite being industry.

sum sum sum idk how to end this

Mardi Gras Mayhem (Bonus) Chapter 12: Leo's Phone

Series: Mardi Gras Mayhem (click the link to read each one in order!)

Fandom: TRR                                                                       

Pairings: none, this is a guy’s weekend

Summary: The TRR lads celebrate Maxwell’s 21st birthday in New Orleans during Mardi Gras. What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter Synopsis: Leo's phone goes on a wild adventure.

Word Count: 788

Rating: MA

Warning: brief nudity mentioned

This is part of a collaboration written for @choicesprompts March 2023 prompt.

The phone had a custom lion-emblazoned phone case with the words 'Totally Roarsome’ splashed across it. It had been owned by the crown prince for a scant three months. Leo had a bad habit of losing, tossing, or outright destroying his phones.

There was a line item in the royal budget that read “Phone replacement-Leo”.

Its short life as a prince’s phone was over. It left his hand along with the phone encased in a more sensible dark blue Otter box and landed next to it on the floor of a parade float.

Glitter and tiny bits of paper streamers attached themselves to it.

The float lurched to a stop, the blue phone slid further into the middle and the little white one was jostled to the side, holding precariously onto the edge.

Beads poured forth from the float. Hands waved in the air, grabbing for them. Cheap plastic trinkets spewed into the air, some of them dropping to the ground, a few of them landing on the edge of the ostentatious platform. Greedy fingers reached over the edge, scooping the treasures up.

The phone found itself in the grasp of a middle-aged man with a growing midsection and receding hairline. “What the fuck?” He stared down at the phone in his hand. What was he supposed to do with someone else’s phone? With a shrug, he put it in his pocket and continued down the street.

The phone rested in the darkness of a front pocket, loose change, and keys shifting with every step, nicking and scratching the screen.

The footsteps slowed and stopped.

A female voice called out, “Got any beads?”

“Naw, sorry, I tried but-“

“Well, what will you give me if I flash you?”

“Uh….”  A sweaty hand dug around in the pocket and grasped the little white phone, fingers smearing the screen. The phone was brought out into daylight again and held out toward the young college coed, “Cell phone?”

“I’ll take it!” She raised her shirt giving him a ten-second unfettered view of a pair of perky tits that had to be D-cups. Then she lowered her shirt, swiped the phone out of his hand, and ran giggling back to her friends.

Clean hands that smelled like lotion or soap or nail polish passed the phone from hand to hand as the group of girls turned off the parade route and made their way down a side street.

“What are you going to do with that phone?”

“I don’t know, it’s not like I need a second phone. Hmmm….”

The melodious strains of “Proud Mary” floated across the boulevard as the group passed a man leaning against a building, guitar case open at his feet.

The hand clutching the phone tightened as an inspired giggle rang out, “Oh! If you’ll play Sweet Home Alabama, I’ll give you this phone!”

“Okay,” the guy agreed.

The phone in the lion case was tossed into the case as the notes of “Sweet Home Alabama” filled the air.

The phone rested in the black crushed velvet case, bits of glitter and colored paper still sticking to it, the screen smudged from sweaty hands, the case carrying a faint whiff of lotion and nail polish, all remnants of its wild adventure. The song ended and the sound of female voices and laughter faded as the group moved on.

The phone’s new owner counted the money he’d made and put it in his pocket. He then dropped the cell phone into his backpack, put the guitar in its case, and headed home.

The phone slipped downward in the backpack, sliding past notebooks, a water bottle, demo CDs, and headphones to settle at the bottom amongst guitar picks and loose change.

It lodged in the bottom corner where the seam was coming apart, wedging itself into the tear and slipping slowly further out of the bag with every jolt and thud until it dropped out of the hole and landed in the dingy grime outside the backdoor of a gumbo restaurant.

The little white phone skidded to a stop in the back alley. The brightness of its exuberant shine dulled by the rubbish of its surroundings, the previous excitement and noise of its journey now a distant memory.

The phone sat, unmoving.

Suddenly a noise. A crunch of plastic.

“Tarnations! Not the damn turt— Well what do we have here?”

Greasy fingers grasped the white plastic of the phone case, lifting it into the air.

“Well, hullo there! Youse Bubba’s phone now I reckon!” The voice was filled with pleased surprise.

The little phone was happy as the man gently wiped the dirt and grime from it on the underside of his apron and lowered it into his pocket.

Chapter 7: Fiesta

character: shiratorizawa team and reader.

warnings: none, just some swearing.

word count: 2.5k

note: sorry if I haven’t posted in 2 years, a lot of things happened and yeah.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

shiratorizawa navigation || stth navigation

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

School festivals are one of the most exciting events that the students are looking forward to every school year. The different attractions that each class and students have prepared, the various events the school had lined up, and the wide array of foods made available for everyone to enjoy. 

The festivity usually lasts for about a week, starting off with the opening ceremony in the form of a little parade around the school area, and ending it with an amazing fireworks display partnered with a bonfire.

And with Shiratorizawa  being a rich school – as what most outsiders would say – everything is pretty much a little too extravagant. However, it’s only fair, with the tuition fee so high, what else would they use it other than for things that would benefit their students?

“I don’t think 1 week is enough to go through all of these” you unfolded the pamphlet you were holding. Skimming through the events scheduled for each day, the attractions and their locations. Everything was written to serve as guides to the outsiders visiting and to the students and faculty as well.

Goshiki leans down a little as he too tries to read what’s written on the pamphlet, recognizing a few, and making a mental note as to what attractions he should visit next.

“’Tomu-kun, do you know the name of the play our senpai’s will be doing? Tendou-san mentioned it before but I forgot”

Goshiki hums as he tries to remember, whilst you continue to flip the pamphlet over and over again to find it in the schedule. “I think it was ‘The Demon King: Conquering the Last Kingdom”

“Ah, here it is” you tap on the part where the play’s date, time, and venue was specified. “It’s tonight”

“Let’s watch it with Shirabu-san and Kawanishi-san later” he took his phone from his pocket, as he snapped a picture of the play’s information so it wouldn’t be hard to look for it later in case one of you forgets. 

He pockets his phone as the two of you continue to walk down the hall of the second years’ building. The two of you had just finished your shift and had agreed to spend the rest of the day going through the various attractions the class had to offer.

“(Y/n)-chan –“ Goshiki started, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. “- isn’t that Kawanishi-san?”

You look up at him for a second before following his line of sight. There stood in front of a classroom just a few feet away was Kawanishi Taichi, the middle blocker of Shiratorizawa’s volleyball club wearing what seems to be a rip off of Alice’s dress.

“What the hell?” you both stay rooted on your spot, watching as your senior rocking that ridiculous outfit. 

The light blue dress only reaches the middle of his thighs displaying his long muscled legs. A golden pocket watch dangling on his waist, his hands covered with white gloves. A white frilled headband on his head, taming down his usually pointy ginger hair. On his left thigh was a black lace garter and to finish off the look, a pair of white boots for his feet.

You have no idea who talked him into wearing that costume, but you got to admit. He looks good in it.

Probably way better than you if ever you tried it on.

“Oh Tsutomu, (Y/n) hello” you both haven’t realized that he had spotted you standing there, mouths agape, looking like complete fools. “Want to come inside?”

He jab a thumb to the door of his classroom, propping the mini chalkboard on his hip as the two of you approach him.

“Uh… sure” he grins before showing you both a peek at the menu. Once confirming that you’re both okay with the food, he opens the door, as two more guys wearing the same outfit as he was greets you.

“Table for two” Kawanishi waved you both goodbye, as one of the two guys led you to your table near the window.

He gave you both a menu, leaving you two to decide on which item you want to order.

Goshiki leans over to you, bringing the menu up to his face as he whispers. “This is probably the weirdest café I’ve seen”

You silently nodded your head, examining the decorations they had put up. The café was following the Alice in Wonderland theme. It was nice however, the weird thing Goshiki was talking about was the reverse role each student was portraying.

The male students were wearing dresses and frills while the female students were wearing pants and dress shirts.

“But you agree with me that whoever came up with this concept is a genius right?”

Goshiki quickly says his reply as he puts the menu he’s holding on the table before relaying your orders to your assigned server. He wrote it down on his notepad he’s holding, taking the menu and going to the cooking area to give your orders to the people incharge of preparing the food.

“Goshiki-kun, (Y/n)-chan. I haven’t seen you two in a while” standing in front of your table was Higuchi Megumi, the senpai that Goshiki mentioned before that has a crush on Kawanishi.

“Higuchi-san” she gave you both a smile, before she lifted the polaroid camera dangling around her neck.

“Let me take a picture of you two” you and Goshiki straightened up, scooting your chair when she motioned with her hands for you two to get a little closer together. Then smiling at the camera as she presses the shutter button.

Pulling out the photo, she waved it around for a few times before the picture finally showed.

“You two look so cute together!” she gushes, staring at the picture before putting it on the table to show it to you. In the picture you and Goshiki were giving the camera shy smiles, you didn’t realize Goshiki had draped his arm over the back of your chair, leaning even closer to you. “Are you dating?”

Heat rises up to your cheeks as you let out a low laugh, your mind in a jumbled mess to give her a proper answer. Beside you Goshiki was equally embarrassed, the tips of his ears going red.

"N-no... No we're not... We're not..." Goshiki stutters, trying to form the right words to answer her question. "Higuchi-san!"

Higuchi laughs, before leaving you both and going to another table to take pictures of the new customers.

Goshiki clears his throat, to try and remove the awkward atmosphere that had somehow slipped into the air. You both started eating your food, the once comfortable vibe you two had were now coming back.

The foods were delicious, the pastry and the beverage that came along with it were a very good combination. You wonder if these were homemade or store bought, but nonetheless they taste good, the price you paid was worth it in the end.

After the meal, you both left the place and continued walking down the hallway. A lot had caught your eye, but you were looking for a certain classroom.

"Shirabu-san's class didn't use their classroom for their event?" you ask, as you read through the pamphlet once again. The both of you on your way to where the second year setter’s attraction were supposed to be located.

“A petting zoo?'' You and Goshiki read the signboard placed outside of the door. The cartoon pictures of different animals decorating the sign in big sizes to capture the attention of any passerby. 

Peeking through the glass on the door, you could see students and outside visitors playing with the puppies and kittens running around the tiled floor. You got excited, the prospect of playing with these adorable furry friends makes you feel giddy.

Opening the door, you both paid for the fee and immediately started mingling with them. You found a German shepherd, lying peacefully at the side. Acknowledging his fellow canine and feline companions with a little bow of his head or a tilt to the side. Gratefully accepting the treats and headpats given to him.

You walk over to him, whilst Goshiki plays with a ginger colored dog. You sit down beside the big dog, as it watches you cross your legs and smile down at him. 

You lift up your hand and run it from his head to his back. You felt it relax under your touch as you continued to rub your palm over his fur.

“Shima likes you” you look up to see Shirabu holding a tray of sandwiches.

“His name is Shima?” he nodded his head as he offered you a sandwich. “Is this for free?”

You took a bite of the sandwich as your other hand thoughtlessly continued to go up and down Shima’s body.

“That’s 500 yen” you stop chewing and nearly drop the sandwich in the process.

His lips formed into a smile as he flicked your forehead. “I’m just kidding” you let out a sigh as you took another bite of the food. “It’s actually 1,000 yen” 

The chunk of chewed up bread and meat got caught in your throat, causing you to go into bouts of coughing. Hitting your chest with your fist repeatedly, Shima’s attention is now on you as he nuzzles your thigh with his nose.

Shirabu laughs as he stands up and walks to the makeshift counter they installed. “Your bill will be delivered later once you’re ready to leave.

“Shirabu-san, you’re not my favorite senpai anymore” he just waves his hand in dismissal, well aware that you were just lying.

You turn to look at Goshiki who was seated across you, holding a glass of smoothie. With the way his eyebrows were furrowed together and how he’s aggressively sipping on his drink, it was safe to say that Shirabu had also tricked him.

You chuckled, finishing your sandwich. Standing up you threw the tissue used to wrap the sandwich, and went back to hanging out with Shima. 

The dog, as opposed to its size, was very calm, normally they'd be a bit aggressive or a little hyper. However with the amount of elegance he's displaying, you conclude that he had been trained properly.

"You're such a good boy" you cooed, beaming down at him as he continued nuzzling his head on your hand. Loving the affection you were giving him.

Shirabu walks over to you again, holding a tray filled with colorful drinks. Crouching down, he watches you bury your face on the dog's fur, baby noises coming out of your mouth.

"You're so weird" he commented, handing you a drink as you hesitantly accepted the glass. Narrowing your eyes at him in suspicion.

"How much is this?" you asks, ready to place the glass back to the tray in case it was another thousand yen out of your wallet 

"It's free"

"You said that last time"

"Just drink the juice (Y/n) or I'll shove it down your throat" you pout, crunching up your nose as you sip on your drink.

Shirabu chuckles, before standing up. "It's a gift from one of the girls in the kitchen, a thank you for the picture or something like that"

You furrowed your eyebrows together, racking your brain for any memory of what he was talking about.

A picture? You've never given anyone a picture before, or any sort of image – wait.

Your eyes widened as you remembered that it was probably the picture of your senpais that you sold. The ones you've kept and continued printing as many of their fans still approach you to this day to buy them.

A bit questionable for a high schooler, but a person's gotta make a living right? 

Where else will you get the money to buy your favorite games?

"All done (Y/n)-chan?" Goshiki crouches down beside you, placing a little black and white kitten on the floor. Who immediately went over to Shima's side and started headbutting his leg.

"I'm done" you stood up, waving at Shima and the little kitten goodbye. You paid your bill and walked out of the room, the both of you deciding that it was best to return to your dorm room for the time being to get some rest, before attending the third years play in the evening.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

"Sooo, what do you think?" Tendou twirls, showing you a 360 view of his costume. The other four stood beside him as they posed for the camera Kawanishi was holding.

"You all look good though but…" you trailed, slowly turning your eyes towards Semi who was fanning himself. One hand on his hip as he waits for you to finish what you were going to say. "...Semi-san why are you in a dress?"

Semi sighs as he snaps the fan close, rubbing his temples. "Trust me (Y/n), even I don't know"

"Hayato was supposed to be the one wearing it but it was too big, and Eita was the only one who could fit in it" Reon chuckled, as Semi smacked Tendou's hand who had started playing with his curled wig.

"Don't be too bummed out Eita, you look beautiful" Yamagata grinned, patting Semi on the back as the setter wacks him with the fan he's holding.

"Ushijima-san looks cool too"

You turn to look at Ushijima as Goshiko and Shirabu examine his costume with great interest. The armor he's wearing perfectly complementing his buff physique, making him look more like a Prince instead of a Knight.

"Prepare yourselves everyone, the show's about to start" one of the girls announced as the four of you walked out of the changing room to go back to your seats. Wishing them good luck for a successful performance.

Settling in your seats, the lights deemed down as the play starts.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

"That was embarrassing" Semi grumbles, kneeling on the floor inside the changing room as he stares at the ground in dread. Kawanishi and Tendou's laugh could be heard from the back as they watched the videos the second year recorded.

The play ended up being a major success that somehow the crowd had wanted an encore, however there wasn't much time left so it had to improvise.

Apparently, Semi was very convincing as a girl because everyone started chanting for him and Ushijima to kiss. A sort of reward for how the knight saved the princess. 

They really can't do anything about it so they complied, thankfully Ushijima was quite cunning. To save them both from any more embarrassment, he took hold of his waist, dipped him, and moved his face close enough to make it look like they were kissing.

"It's okay Semi-san, at least the show ended well" you tried comforting your devastated senior as he started talking to himself.

You let out a nervous laugh as you don't know what the hell happened to him, he sounds like a broken doll and somehow it was creeping you out.

"Let's go guys, time to get change" they followed after their classmate, as they dragged Semi along with them.

All four of you watched as the door slammed shut before taking out your phones, and started trading pictures and videos from the performance a while ago and some other shenanigans inside the dressing room.

Because as much as you love your senpais, you were not going to pass up an opportunity to get a copy of the Ushijima Wakatoshi slipping on a banana peel.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

© 2022 ohkiyo. All rights reserved.

Teacher friend!! Can i pretty please get a pt. 3 of donations with kakucho?? That’s the fic that actually brought me to your page

Donations (Part 3): Kakucho Hitto x Fem!Reader

Part 1🔥 Part 2🔥

wc: 1.1k

tw: fluff

masterlist

Kakucho lays awake, eyes barely focused on the television as his son sleeps away on his chest. Easy distractions, Kakucho thinks, feeling the baby inhale deeply and then sigh. He looks down at his son, the baby's black hair swept neatly across his head.

Warmth floods his veins at the sight of his sleeping infant and for a second, he imagines life will always be this easy. Life will always be this beautiful, full of simple moments to remember. And despite the sound of the TV chattering away in the background, Kakucho nods off, succumbing to sleep.

"Hey..."

Your soft whisper brings him out of his brief rest and a hand smooths across his cheek tenderly.

"You okay?" Kakucho blinks, taking in your gorgeous face and concerned expression.

"Fine, I guess I just fell asleep..." He notices the weight on his chest is gone and looks about, frowning. "Where's--"

"Asleep," you answer. "I put him in his crib." You climb on top of him and Kakucho relaxes his head back on the pillow, yawning deeply. "You've been really sleepy, babe. You need more rest."

"No," Kakucho replies, holding you close and kissing the top of your head. "Just need to get used to the schedule, is all."

"Mmm..." You press a kiss to his chest. "You're doing a great job, love." Kakucho strokes your hair and smiles to himself, feeling your fingers come around his back and hold him even tighter if it were possible.

"We're doing a great job," he counters. "The best parents in all the world."

"In all the world..." you echo, smiling and closing your eyes.

"Where's the baby bag?" Panic floods your tone as you look around the backseat, seeing nothing but plastic bags and a discarded towel. "Kakucho?" The man comes walking around to the other side of the car, holding his son in one arm and the baby bag on his other shoulder.

The two boys look at you with wide eyes, noticing your hurried movements and expression.

"Oh, thank god," you whisper, holding your hands out for your son. I thought we forgot it at home."

"I told you, babe," Kakucho laughs. "I got everything."

"Well, remember that one time we had to turn around?"

"You'll never let me forget it," he grunts, shaking his head. "Alright, when we get in here, it might be a little chaotic. But remember, it's just the way the Haitanis do things."

As you both walk up the driveway to the ornate house, Kakucho adjusts your son on his shoulder before placing a tender kiss on his cheek and knocking on the door.

Immediately, the door flies open, and you see a small child, looking at both of you carefully.

"Names?"

"Uh," Kakucho begins, frowning. "Kakucho Hitto and Y/n L/n..."

"You got an invite or something?" Your son hiccups, breaking the tension for a moment before the young girl looks down at a list in her hands. "What's the password? You're not on the list."

"Yes, they are-- hey!" Rindou Haitani comes up behind the little girl, brushing her aside as he opens the door wider. "Glad you could make it!"

"Rindou, this is my partner, y/n. Y/n, Rindou Haitani."

"Pleasure to meet you," you chuckle nervously, holding out your hand for him to shake. Rindou smiles, then waves you both inside, cooing at your son before mentioning,

"I didn't realize he would look almost exactly like you, Kakucho."

"That's how babies work," Kakucho tosses back. As you wander into the house, statues of greek images and chandeliers made of glass catch your eyes. My friends do expensive work, Kakucho had said. Don't worry. If you start to feel uncomfortable, we can leave.

Voices chime in as Kakucho makes his presence known, and you watch as he parades around the room, showing off his son to everyone in the area. For a moment, you feel like an outsider, watching grown men fawn over the little treasure in Kakucho's arms. Children run about around you, seemingly making you even more invisible. But after a brief second, Kakucho looks up, making eye contact with you and waving you over.

"Babe," he calls out. "Come meet my associates!" Suddenly, all of your insecurities fall away and you smile, approaching the group of men with class.

"And how in the hell did you score a fucking smokeshow like her?"

"Language," One with a scar over his left eye grumbles, sipping on his drink. "There are kids here, Mochi."

After the party, you and Kakucho drive home, your son in the backseat fast asleep. And even though you both are silent, Kakucho's hand rests on your thigh gently, stroking a familiar pattern over your skin. You know he loves you, and you feel the same.

"I love our little life," you breathe as he pulls up to your now-shared home. "I love being with you." Kakucho grins as he looks over at you, mouth forming a word right as your son awakens, open-mouthed and yelling for attention.

"Shit," you mutter, getting out of the car quickly and retrieving the boy. "Sorry, sorry..." Kakucho follows you inside the house, shutting the door behind him and walking up the stairs to the nursery with you. His child wails in displeasure, fat tears rolling down his face as he makes his wishes known. "I know, I know, my little sleepyhead."

"I'll put him to bed," Kakucho offers, taking his jacket off and laying it on the rocking chair beside the crib. "I got him."

"No, it's alright," you retort, shaking your head. "I'll get him to sleep. You just relax and I'll come to bed when he's calmed down." Kakucho pauses for a moment, but then acquires, walking out of the room quietly.

As he leaves, he begins to reflect. Parents. Something he didn't have. Something he wasn't sure he'd ever be. But as the cries of his son calm down... a sense of overwhelming "okay-ness" washes over him. It's going to be okay, he can hear his mother whispering. Everything will be okay, Kakucho. He reaches into his nightstand, picking up and holding the small box between his fingers. "It's might be the right time," he breathes, shoulders slumping as he opens the box gently. "Is it, mom?"

"Alright," you sigh as you brush your hair away from your face, walking into the bedroom. "He should be fine now." Kakucho stands facing away from you, his movements stilling as he decides. Now? Right now? Should I--

"Is everything okay, sweetheart?" Kakucho inhales deeply, then turns around, facing you nervously. You see the box in his hand and let out a soft breath, gripping the baseboard of the bed for balance.

"I know this isn't romantic or really... anything. But... we're together now and I want to know if you feel like this is a good time to maybe think about marriage." You look up at him, eyes wide. "I mean, you can always say--"

You step closer to him and plant a tender kiss on his lips, squeezing his cheeks between both hands. "Yes," you mumble, kissing him again. "Yes, of course, I'll marry you."

Empowering Tomorrow's Leaders: The Night that Fosters Connection

As eyes danced around the corner, the one worth the stare is on a standstill. The unforgettable night unfolds with lights swaying in sync with the pulsating music, engulfing the campus in loud shouts and cheers.

On the enchanting night of November 3, 2023, the Western Mindanao State University - Pagadian Campus went all out for Crimsons night. The excitement buzzed around as students geared up for the induction and socialization bash. People were hyped, getting dressed to impress for the big event. With a Halloween twist, the place lit up with awesome costumes. You had folks rocking movie characters and others going all-in on spooky vibes like vampires and killers.

The vibe on the grounds was like a mixtape of personalities, giving everyone a cool chance to mingle and make new friends. University life serves as a microcosm of the real world, where effective communication and collaboration are essential skills. Interacting with fellow students provides a platform for honing these skills in a relatively low-stakes environment. The ability to work harmoniously with diverse personalities is an invaluable asset in any professional setting. I opted for a drama-free look, donning a simple black dress with a back slit and paired it with black heels. I added a cute touch with a black ribbon pinned to my hair.

As the program kicked off, everyone paraded down the aisle in their adorable and spooky costumes. I was impressed by the effort everyone put into their looks—each department excelled in dancing, storytelling, and singing. The highlight that took me by surprise and made my heart race was when my crush hit the dance floor with some serious moves. I couldn't help but shout in excitement that night. Oh, and did I mention the spooky booth the USC set up for everyone to explore? The second part of the program began, and it was time for the induction ceremony. Officers from every classroom, along with the newly elected USC officers, made their way down the aisle, gearing up to embrace their roles as student leaders. Ma'am Rico, the Campus Coordinator, led the ceremony. Each student's words carried the weight of responsibility and a commitment to good leadership.

Student leaders are not only responsible for the present but also play a vital role in preparing for the future. The induction process equips them with skills that extend beyond their academic years, preparing them for leadership roles in their careers and communities beyond the educational institution. The night ended with an ear banging disco, everyone danced their heart out in the isle. Some departed early to savor dinner, others immersed themselves in the eerie allure of spooky booths, and a few explored the venue, seeking special moments and capturing them as enduring memories.

The candid shots and electrifying shouts provided freshmen with a novel and memorable experience. In the fast-paced world of academia, where lectures, assignments, and exams dominate the scene, the significance of students coming together often takes a back seat. However, the importance of cultivating meaningful relationships among students cannot be overstated. In conclusion, the importance of students getting together goes beyond the academic realm.

Students hanging out isn't just about school stuff—it molds people intellectually, socially, and emotionally. The friendships made in these crucial years set the stage for a helpful network, diverse viewpoints, and practical skills that go way beyond college. Supporting these connections is like investing in a student's all-around growth, preparing them for life's challenges, not just exams. Also, student leadership is a big deal. Bringing in new leaders, giving them skills and responsibilities, is a key step in building a positive and effective student community. So, it's not just about hitting the books; it's about setting up students for success in life.

I Mean This - I’m Okay

Word Count: 6k and change. Notes: ~ Title from: I’m Not Okay (I Promise) by My Chemical Romance [obviously] ~ Yup, Shelly’s still Tour Manager. That’s her job! ~ This is my second Reader attempt. This one was a little easier! ~ Still not an easy thing to write, these definitely come out slower than other stuff I write, so please, continue to be a bit gentle with me. ~ I’m pretty sure this is gender neutral, and reasonably vague on age, but you can assume that Reader is old enough to maybe travel alone? I don’t think it really matters too much there. ~ I’m not sure if I’ll put this one on AO3 either.

- - - - - 

Setting: The Black Parade Tour - possibly before ProRev - I think. Your day was dragging, and nothing overly interesting had happened. This was normal. Everything was normal. Until you started to make your way home that is. As soon as you found yourself a seat on the bus home, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. The amount of notifications on the screen made you nearly drop it. You never had that many notifications; what on earth was going on? You spent a few minutes combing through the mentions, you managed to finally get to your inbox, where there was at least one new message waiting for you. Before you had the chance to investigate it though, your bus reached your stop and you had to finish making your way home. After a quick stop at the nearby grocery store for something quick for dinner and, because the day had been a bit sucky, a little sweet treat for yourself. And maybe a savoury one too. It had been A Day. After changing into something comfier, you decided to sit and relax for a little bit before starting some dinner. You settled on your couch with a drink and your savoury snack before pulling out your phone to finally check your social media inboxes. What you saw actually made you drop your phone in your lap. Thank god for your habit of always sitting with a pillow or blanket on your legs, because that meant that you didn’t have to move much to scoop the device up again. There was a message in your inbox from the official My Chemical Romance account. “What the…?” You muttered, tapping the message to open it. Hi there! We’re reaching out to you to let you know that you won the last competition - we’d like to upgrade your concert ticket to the meet and greet package! “Holy balls!” If you could reply to this message with the best way to contact you; an email address would be good to start with, we can go from there and we can make sure you have all the details you’re going to need! You were pretty sure that you had never replied to a message so quickly in your life. You replied with a quick; Oh my god, really? That’s amazing! Thank you so much! before sending across your email address as well. Once that message was sent, you put your phone on the arm of the couch before sinking into your spot, staring at the tv but not really taking anything in. Not too long later, your phone sounded loudly with a notification, making you jump before you groped for it, seeing that you had a reply. Awesome, thank you. I’ll gather the information and email you back; I’ll message you on here once the email’s been sent so you know to look out for it. Congratulations again! Truthfully, you were a little floored. You didn’t even really remember entering the competition, but you guessed that you had? The message was coming from the official band account after all? You didn’t think that it had been hacked so this can’t have been a hoax… It probably wasn’t from the band themselves - they all had their own social media; they probably had someone who ran that account for them. Of course. There was no way you were actually conversing with the guys themselves. Just as you’d thought that, something made you frown, and you double checked the messages from the account. Yeah, they’d switched from using “we” to “I” - as you expected, someone else was running the account. You weren’t surprised - the guys were busy after all. They were true to their word - not too long later, maybe half an hour at most, your phone pinged with a social media direct message alert. Hey, just letting you know that I sent that email across. You can either shoot me a message here to let me know it arrived or just reply to it. A quick swipe and tap later, and you were looking at the email in question. You shifted in your spot on your couch to sit up a bit better so you could concentrate on reading it properly.The email started with a simple introduction of; “Hi, I’m Shelly Sketcher, and I work with MyChem, and that includes maintaining the main band social media accounts, so it was me that you were talking to via DMs.” You were familiar with that name, quite a few people in the online fanspaces that you frequented were too. She’d been working with the band for long enough now, and the guys would frequently sing her praises during interviews. The online fanspaces seemed to like her - she did her best to get the band more time with their fans, or to get the gifts from the fans to the band, and most people appreciated that. Of course there were always one or two who didn’t but… That was to be expected. You just hoped that she didn’t have to see some of the utterly vile and nasty stuff that you had seen about her. Or, if she had seen it, you hoped it didn’t get her down too badly. You emailed her back, and sent her a direct message on the band’s social media to let her know that you’d received her email and sent a reply. She said to let her know if you had any questions - either via email or a direct message; she’d reply to either as soon as she could - she’d have notifications on as the whole thing was a little bit time sensitive. After sending her one more message, thanking her and letting her know that you’d let her know if you had any more questions, you sat on your couch, staring at the first message in your social media inbox. Truthfully, you were still in a little bit of a state of shock. It had taken you a bit of effort to get the ticket you had managed to get, and you had been incredibly grateful to finally get your hands on the one you did, even if it had been one of the cheaper ones. But now you were being bumped up to the freakin’ meet and greet package? Unbelievable. You spent the time between getting the messages and the date of your show, in a little bit of a daze, to be honest. You just couldn’t believe it. You were going to meet your favourite band. Nothing felt like it could touch you during that time; not even events during your everyday life that normally would have ruined your day, or at the very least your mood, had much of an effect on you. You were going to meet your favourite band. Like, what? What did you do to get so lucky? How? How was this your life? You just couldn’t make it up. ~ ~ ~ You arrived at the venue early, like it had been suggested, although you would’ve done that anyway. Nervously, you approached one of the venue’s staff. You knew that they were working the gig because they were wearing an MCR t-shirt, and they had a lanyard. They looked the part. She greeted you with a friendly smile and listened as you explained what you were there for. When you mentioned that you were a competition winner her expression brightened and she beckoned you to follow her. She led you through another set of doors before you had to go through the security procedure of having your bag checked. Once that was done, she gently pulled you aside and let you sit down. “I just need to make a quick call, okay? I’ll be right back.” She waited for you to nod before taking a phone out of her pocket and moving down the corridor a little. You were starting to feel a little anxious, like maybe you’d done something wrong? But you’d followed the email’s instructions… It was probably fine, it was probably just nerves. You were (hopefully!) about to meet your favourite band after all. The sound of heels on the flooring made you look up from your phone a little while later. The member of staff had returned, with a familiar looking, well dressed blonde in tow. They got close enough before the staff member said something to the other woman and got a nod in reply before heading off. The blonde turned back to you and smiled, holding out her hand when she got close enough. “Hi! I’m Shelly and I work with MyChem. You must be the competition winner I’ve been messaging?.” You felt your shoulders untense a little - she was who you thought she was and that meant that this whole thing was legit and not some elaborate prank. You hesitated for a second before taking her hand and shaking it, introducing yourself. “I’m so pleased to meet you, and that you got here okay,” Shelly said with a bright smile. “Pleased to meet you too,” you managed with a smile in return. “You do an excellent job and the fan base is very lucky to have you look out for the guys, and us, the way that you do.” She beamed and went a pale shade of pink. “I… Ah, that’s very nice for you to say, but I’m just doing my job.” “Yeah, but!” You protested. “Not every band has an assistant manager like you; I’ve been to other bands’ concerts and there’s never anyone running around to gather things from the fans like you do.” Shelly shook her head slightly, clearly not really believing you. “You’re very sweet.” “It’s true though.” “Mm, maybe,” she cleared her throat quietly and hummed for a moment as she pulled out her phone. She tapped at it before reading something and sliding the device back into her pocket. “Okay, right! So, the first thing is grabbing you some merch! Have you had the chance to see the merch stand yet?” “I…” You had actually forgotten that part of the upgrade included some free merch. “No, I haven’t. I was a little nervous about getting here and making sure that people knew that I was here.” Shelly nodded sympathetically. “I get that, I still get a bit nervous about being late or getting lost.” “You do?” “Sure I do,” she smiled and gestured for you to follow her. “Then again, I have to be very careful, as if I mess up with times, I could make the whole band late. But I’m like that in my personal life too, not just for my job.” “Oh,” you followed her to the merch stand, a little amused and amazed at how quickly and easily she moved through the building and through the manned doors. Then again, she was with the band; that was the ultimate VIP pass. You stayed close to her as you arrived at the merch stand, but you stood aside a little as she conversed with the people manning it. As to be expected, she was polite and everyone was really friendly with each other, but that was to be expected when the tour had been going this long. You were pretty certain that it was the same merch team. “Okay,” she turned back to you before gesturing to the stand. “Pick your poison.” You hesitated, wanting to ask a question but not quite sure how to. Luckily, she found the words for you. “Whatever you like, no real limit but try not to go too insane.” She grinned at you. “Insane would be like, one of everything.” “I, ah, wouldn’t do that, really…” “Some people might try it,” Shelly shrugged gently before pulling out her phone to give you some time. You took a few minutes to cast your eyes over the selection before picking out a couple of things - a shirt with the dates on it was the main thing you wanted, but you picked a couple of other, little things too. Once the guy behind the stand handed those over to you, you decided to use the money you’d set aside specifically for merch to actually purchase a few extra things. “Miss Shelly,” the merch girl called. “They wanna buy things too.” Shelly looked up from her phone before taking a few steps forward to stand next to you. “What did you pick as part of the upgrade?” You hesitated before opening the bag to show her, watching her nod and smile. “Hey, good choices.” “I don’t mind spending money,” you reasoned. “I have been saving for this since I got my ticket. I never expected to win the upgrade and I forgot that the upgrade included merch, so I’m really not against spending money.” “And, if I may,” the blonde continued. “What are you interested in purchasing?” You hesitated before pointing out a couple of extra things you liked before watching her out of the corner of your eye. She looked between the items before nodding. “Okay, but you’re getting a discount. We take care of our VIPs.” “I… I can’t ask you to do that,” you tried to protest as she gathered together the things you wanted to buy. “You’re not asking,” she double checked the size labels before giving the things to you. “Are these right?” You checked too. “Yes, thank you, but I -” “You’re getting a discount,” she said, her voice taking on a sing-song tone as she smiled. “And there’s nothing you can do about that.” You tried once more to protest, but she wasn’t having any of it, and neither were the merch staff, so you sighed and accepted your fate. Once that was all taken care of, you followed the blonde back through the doors, thanking her profusely along the way. “Honestly,” she said after using your name to interrupt you. “It’s really not a big deal. You didn’t try to take advantage, and I admire that.” “I… Oh. Um… Thank you?” “Don’t mention it.” She led you down another corridor before speaking again. “Did you bring anything for the guys to sign?” “Er actually, yeah, I did.” “That’s great; they’ll be more than happy to do that,” she stopped outside a door, and before knocking, she turned to look at you. “You okay?” You shook your head. “No, I’m a little bit nervous.” “Hey,” she said, turning her whole body to face you. “It’s alright, I promise! They’re not that scary! They’re really just a bunch of nerds!” This made you laugh and honestly, it did help a little bit. “And I say that with the most love possible,” she giggled as you laughed. “But they really are.” You grinned at her before exhaling deeply. “I know you’re right. But I’m still a little nervous.” Shelly nodded. “I know you are, I get it. Meeting them is a big deal to a lot of people. And that’s okay, they understand.” You exhaled again and she smiled gently at you. She was waiting patiently but you didn’t feel rushed at all; she just didn’t have that air to her. “I think…” You started carefully. “I think I’m ready.” “Awesome.” You watched her move to knock on the door; her knock was almost tuneful, and you were willing to bet that her knock stood out against any others. She waited a second before opening the door enough to stick her head around it. She must’ve said something and gotten a reply because you heard her laugh before she opened the door properly before turning to you and gesturing for you to follow her. She closed the door behind the pair of you before clearing her throat to get the attention of the band. Holy balls, you thought, this is actually happening. You listened to her introduce you to them, which you were grateful for because you had suddenly lost your voice. “I don’t think I need to tell you their names,” Shelly said with a slight grin as each member shook your hand. “Thi- Think,” you swallowed as your voice came out as a bit of a squeak. “Think we’re good on that one.” Frank laughed and Shelly gestured for you to sit down  as the guys did. Once everyone had settled, Shelly trotted around the room while the band asked you questions - how far you’d travelled to get there, how your trip was, had you seen them before; questions like that. You managed to answer them well enough, still feeling a little bit nervous but starting to feel a bit more relaxed. There was a pause in conversation as Shelly came back over to put some markers, Sharpies, on the table. You noticed that Gerard watched her a bit more closely when she returned, smiling and speaking softly to her when she was near enough. She smiled at him before clearing her throat softly. “Hey,” she said to them. “You guys wanna sign some stuff?” “Sure thing,” Mikey reached for one of the markers before the others copied him. “I like seeing what fans bring for us to sign, to be honest,” Frank added. At these words you pulled your bag onto your lap to go through it. “Um, hang on a minute…” Eventually you pulled out your item of choice as well as a small notebook, both of which you passed to the blonde who had moved to stand by you. “It sounds strange, but can you each maybe sign a page in here as well, please?” “Of course,” Gerard gently took both items from Shelly when she passed them to him before uncapping the pen and holding the lid in between his teeth, passing the first item around after he’d signed it. “I’m sure you’ve got your reasons.” “Is it something arty?” Ray asked, looking from where Mikey was signing one of the two items over to you. “A lot of our fans are very artistic.” “There’s a lot of talent in the fanbase,” Shelly agreed. “I… Um, kinda.” “If you ever share it online,” Shelly lightly slapped Frank around the back of the head for a reason you didn’t catch. “You’ll have to share it with us. I’m sure whatever you’re planning will turn out great.” “I hope it does, maybe I will share it,” you nodded once, taking the items from her as she handed them back over. “Thank you so much.” “You’re more than welcome,” Frank grinned over at you. You felt like you might be blushing so you focused on putting your things back in your bag until Ray started asking you a little more about yourself; what you did for work, what your hobbies were. Normally, talking about yourself made you feel awkward, but he (and the rest of the band) seemed so genuinely interested that you found yourself not really minding. When they ran out of questions and you’d run out of steam, a few minutes of silence followed before Shelly cleared her throat, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “How about we get some pictures?” She said before turning to you. “I can take them on your phone, if you like? Or I can take them with my phone and send them to you via social media?” You hesitated. “Either is honestly fine,” Shelly continued. “I promise.” “Ah, um…” You pulled your phone out of your pocket before unlocking it and, after a second, shyly handed it over to her. The blonde smiled and took it, checking it over. “Go over with me how to use it really quickly?” You obliged, and when you were close enough to her, Shelly whispered to you. “Don’t worry, you’re doing great.” “I am? I’m not awkward?” She shook her head and took a test photo of the pair of you before she showed you. “How’s that?” “Great, actually. That’s a great shot.” “You can delete that later if you want,” she gestured for you to go and post with the guys. “I won’t be offended. If you share these online, make sure you tag the accounts and we’ll reshare them too. If you’re okay with that.” You nodded to her and she took some photos of you with the band, letting you see them to make sure that you were happy. “If you’re not happy, I am more than willing to take more,” she said quietly to you. “I just want you to have a good experience, and bad photos are not a good keepsake.” “I don’t want to put the guys through -” “They won’t mind,” she grinned at you. “I won’t let them. Don’t worry.” “You…” You shook your head at her. “You’re too sweet.” “That’s part of my job honey. I’m like a liaison between the fans and the band as well as an assistant to,” she waved towards the guys. “The Lords over there.” The slightly posh accent she added made you laugh and she shooed you over to take a few more pictures. When that was over and everyone had settled back down, you put your bag back across your body - it was like a security thing. “You… Look like you want to say something else?” Mikey piped up. “Um… I…” You swallowed, hesitating. Well, he wasn’t wrong but… You were pretty sure that they’d heard everything you wanted to say before, and would probably hear it all over again. And again. But you knew that you’d regret it immensely if you didn’t say it. “I… Um…” You swallowed and clutched the cross-body strap of your bag, glancing down at your lap. “It’s okay,” Gerard said gently from opposite you.”Take a moment.” You felt like you’d rehearsed this about a thousand times - exactly what you’d say if you ever met them, but now you were actually here, your tongue was tied up in knots. The cushion next to you on the couch moved and you looked up to see their blonde assistant sitting beside you, placing a cup of water in front of you. She smiled softly. “Sorry,” you stammered. “I just…” “It’s okay,” she repeated softly. “Really. Hey, ignore them for a second -” “Hey!” Frank said. “Shut up Frank,” Ray rolled his eyes, throwing a balled up piece of paper at the short guitarist. Shelly eyed them, shook her head before turning her attention back to you, taking your hand. It was only when she squeezed it gently that you realised that you were shaking. “Talk to me. Tell me what it means to you.” You noticed that her nails were neatly French manicured using a shade of pink polish that reminded you very much of cotton candy. And you only picked up on this because you were quite focused on the way she was holding your hand; the gentle squeezing was really calming actually. “I… Okay.” You noticed her smile before taking a small breath, giving yourself time to try and get the words straight in your head. Once you were… Happy enough you nodded slightly and started talking. You managed to talk about how much the music meant to you, how beautiful you thought the lyrics were, how masterful the guitar and base notes were and how harmonious everything sounded together; how obvious it was that the other three were such masters of their instruments. You managed to get out much you loved all three albums, all for different reasons; the rawness of Bullets, the emotion of Revenge and the creativity of Parade. This made Gerard smile brightly; he always loved it when other people recognised just how amazing the rest of the band were at playing their parts. You took a breath, and a sip of the water that you’d been given before managing to talk about how strong you thought they were because they’d all battled their own demons and come out the other side, and just how inspiring that was - not just to you but to so many other people. As well as it being especially inspiring for the fact that they always seemed to want to fight for the underdog; that they wanted to give a voice to those who felt like they didn’t have one. Including yourself - you had your own struggles that their music had helped you through; it made you feel less alone. You managed to speak without stuttering and that made you think that maybe Shelly had been right - it had been much easier to talk to her (or maybe that should be at her…) than to talk to the band themselves. Even though you knew they were listening, it had been much easier to focus your attention on someone other than them. “You’re alright now?” Gerard asked when you took a moment to breathe. “You mentioned your own struggles? Are you okay now?” You nodded. “Much better, I’m doing pretty good, actually. There’s obviously still a few bad days, but coping with them is easier.” Gerard nodded and smiled a little. “Good.” “I know you’ve probably heard all of that before,” you said quietly, managing to look over at them. “But -” “We never get tired of it,” Ray said gently with a shake of his head. “It’s kinda amazing how many people feel the same way about our music.” “And about us,” Mikey added. “It’s incredible that four nerdy guys from New Jersey have had such an effect - a positive one, on so many people.” “You have done since the first record,” you said. “And I think you will until you call it quits.” “And even then,” Shelly added. “As long as your music is available, you’ll keep being that inspiring to anyone who listens to you.” “Yeah!” You nodded enthusiastically at the blonde’s words. “Exactly that.” Frank almost giggled and Gerard cleared his throat softly before speaking. “Ray’s right, we don’t get tired of hearing it. I think sometimes we still can’t believe that people feel that way about us,” he looked at the others for confirmation, getting nods in response. “I keep telling them that they really need to get used to it,” Shelly shrugged once with a smile. “But they don’t listen to me.” “Well, they should, because you’re absolutely right.” Shelly looked at the band and gestured to you. “See?” The guys laughed and that made you smile. “But thank you,” you managed. “For letting me get that out, even if it’s not the first time you’ve heard it.” “It would be rude not to let you speak,” Frank said with a small nod. “We appreciate the fans, we appreciate you, for appreciating us.” You nodded slowly and it was as if a lightbulb flickered on above your head. You turned your attention to the blonde still sitting next to you, which seemed to surprise her as she tilted her head. “I just wanna say again,” you started quietly. “We appreciate you, too. So many of us do, for what you do for them,” you gestured to the guys a little. “For what you do for us as fans, for the running around you do to get our stuff to them, for interacting with us, for everything.” Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Gerard lean forward, his forearms on his legs, as he focused his attention on the woman next to you. This made you remember that there had been some rumours rumbling around about there being a relationship between the two of them, but there hadn’t been anything officially said by anyone from the band, or from either of the pair directly. Their behaviour in front of you didn’t sway the arguments either way, really. It wasn’t really anyone’s business, you thought, but it was something the online fanspaces debated every so often. (Privately, your opinion was that they might be cute together.) Shelly, meanwhile, was looking at you with a very… Soft but surprised expression on her face. When she started to speak, her voice broke a tiny bit - she had to stop and clear her throat before trying again. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “That means a lot to me. Because I do work very hard, I do try and get you guys the most time with them.” “We’re nothing without our fans,” Ray added. You noticed the others nod. “We’re also not much without her,” Frank nodded to Shelly with a grin. “I mean, she’s the reason we eat and she’s why we’re on time and all of that.” “Behind every herd of cats is a woman rolling her eyes while she attempts to wrangle them to get them to behave,” Shelly muttered. You laughed. “You do an excellent job.” She smiled brightly. “Thank you.” “See? Mikey said with a small grin. “Not just us that say so.” “Shush you.” You joined the guys with a quiet chuckle before Gerard cleared his throat. “So, what’s your favourite song? We like to shout out one to our VIPs if we can.” A part of you had expected this question, and you really had truly thought about it. It was a difficult one to answer. “Um, that’s tricky. I feel like every time I think about it, I have a different answer, um…” “Way to put them on the spot,” Shelly rolled her eyes a little but she was smiling so it was clear that she wasn’t mad or anything. “Give them a minute.” You smiled at her gratefully before continuing to answer Gerard’s question, also managing to give them all a reason without waxing lyrical for too long. The band listened intently, nodding a little. “Well,” you said, after taking a moment. “It’s either that one or Disenchanted, really.” Mikey fist-pumped and the others groaned playfully. “See?” He said. “I told you it was a good idea to put it on the album!” Frank rolled his eyes and Gerard shook his head. “I’m not the only one who thinks so!” You added hastily. “No, you’re not,” Shelly added. “It’s a fan favourite, and one of mine too.” “Because you’re a woman of good taste, clearly.” Shelly grinned at you. “Thank you.” You chatted with the band for a little bit longer before it was time for them to start getting ready for the show, so you said goodbye, getting hugs as well, much to your delight, before Shelly led you out of the room. “You alright?” She asked gently as you both made your way down the corridor. You exhaled loudly and nodded. “Y- yeah, I think so.” “It might not sink in for a little bit,” she said with a nod. “And when it does, it’ll be a really inappropriate time.” “That sounds about right.” She laughed quietly. “Right, I think maybe you’re in the higher tier, closer to the stage area with the others who paid for those tickets but not the VIP thing, let me check…” You watched her pull her phone out to double check the details. “Mm hm, you are, which is good as your bag and everything will be safe there too, but if you weren’t I would’ve figured something out about keeping your things safe…” “That’s very sweet of you.” Shelly just smiled and took you to get a drink first - not that she let you pay for either of them, because she made you get a bottle of water alongside the other drink of your choice. Then she led you to where you’d be watching the show from. There were a few people there already, which surprised you, but it was actually a bit later than you thought it was. One of the other fans there called Shelly’s name before making their way over to her. They chatted quietly for a moment before the fan handed Shelly something; they must’ve been asking her to pass it onto the band, which Shelly obviously agreed to do before the fan smiled, got a hug from the blonde and went back to their spot. Shelly turned back to you and shook her head slightly. “Sorry about that, are you all good?” “Yeah, I get it, you’re still working after all,” you nodded. “I’m good, thank you so much for everything.” Shelly brushed it off a little. “Oh, psh, you’ve been a delight! I’ll be about during the show, I always am, so if you need anything, there’ll be a security guard nearby - get his attention and he’ll get me. Don’t be afraid to do that, the security is here to help, and so am I.” You nodded and offered her a hug, which she accepted. “Thank you, again,” you said to her as she hugged you back. “So, so very much.” “You are so welcome,” she squeezed you gently before taking a step back. “I have to get back to the boys. Have a great time during the show, in case you don’t need me for anything. And please, let me know that you get home okay?” “Oh, sure I can do that,” you nodded, touched at her concern. “Message the main band account,” Shelly said. “I’ll get that.” “Okay, I’ll do that, promise.” “Good, I’m glad,” she checked her phone again and winced. “Okay, I really gotta get back to the guys. Have a great time, remember that security is here to help, okay?” “Yes ma’am,” you mock-saluted and grinned as she narrowed her eyes at you a little - but she was smiling so she wasn’t mad. “Thank you, so much, again.” “You’re so welcome,” Shelly smiled at you and waved to another fan further down the section before going to grab something from them. She waved to you and headed off in the other direction to return to the dressing rooms. Naturally, the support act was amazing - but that wasn’t really much of a surprise as MyChem’s support acts always seemed to pair well with the main band themselves. Then the main event happened; the lights went down, the curtain at the back dropped to reveal the staging and… Boom. The cheers were almost deafening as the guys came on stage and only got louder as the first notes played. Much like Gerard had, not promised per se but had said, you got a bit of a shout out for your favourite song. And he stopped just before Disenchanted to make a comment about “well, we’ve been told by almost everyone else that putting this next one on the album was a good idea. Everyone say thank you Mikey Way.” And the crowd echoed back; “Thank you Mikey!” MyChem were incredible obviously. They always were. And major props to the lighting techs, who properly spotlighted each of the guys at the best times; Ray during the opening of Disenchanted for example, Frank during his best solos (you swore he winked at you during one of those and you’d put good money on the fact that you probably blushed). The show must’ve gone relatively smoothly because you didn’t see the Tour Manager come down to help out with anything, until the encore started. That’s when she appeared down in front of that first barrier. She stopped to check in with you, squeezing your hand before heading down the line to check in with the security guards. The encore finished, the band took a bow and Gerard told the crowd to get home safe before they left the stage, the lights coming on not long later. You decided to wait a few minutes to let some of the people behind you head out first before heading outside yourself. When you got home, you sent the band’s official account a quick message, like you promised and then decided to upload some photos from the evening; just one or two for now. One of you and the whole band, the slightly silly selfie you’d taken with Shelly and one or two you’d taken while the band were performing. You tapped your chin for a moment before typing out a caption, making sure to tag any appropriate accounts; Best night of my life! Massive thank you to not only the guys but also Shelly for taking care of me and giving me this amazing opportunity. I'll never be the same after tonight and I am very much okay with that  - I promise!

okay. thoughts on my first mcr show (08-23-22)

tw: suicidal past mentions, implied homo-and transphobia

setlist:

The Foundations of Decay

Boy Division

Our Lady of Sorrows

Give 'Em Hell, Kid

House of Wolves (oh my god)

Summertime

Teenagers

Thank You for the Venom

I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

DESTROYA

Na Na Na

The World Is Ugly (first time. since 2008.)

This Is the Best Day Ever

Welcome to the Black Parade

Mama

Sleep

Famous Last Words

Helena

Encore:

Vampire Money

Hang 'Em High

The Kids From Yesterday

the setlist blew my mind. never in my life could i have ever imagined seeing the world is ugly, not even because it’s rare, but because i have never (even now) been able to wrap my head around the fact that mcr is real.

i got into mcr in middle school. i was 12. they went on hiatus the year after. i made a bucket list of things i had to do before i could kill myself, listing two impossibilities so i could never actually do it. being floor for mcr was an impossibility. but i just did it.

the line outside smelled of cigarettes and was pouring with neurodivergent, non-cis, non-heterosexual people. of course there were those who fit in the opposition, but it was such a group of outcasts, of those who the world hates, of those who have been shunned our whole lives for simply being who we are. so we have hidden it.

standing in line with the people like that, stim-bouncing and fiddling right along with them (because, for some reason, it felt safe to do so in public.)-i felt right. i’ve always wondered what it felt like to belong, to fit into a crowd. past concerts are the only closest thing ive ever gotten, but nothing stood up to tonight.

(i have lived here my whole life. i know the atmosphere.) tennessee is not known for liberality, certainly not being queer accepting. the bigger cities, such as nashville and memphis, have slowly become more and more accepting, but there are still people who parade down Broadway and surrounding areas promoting conservative and outdated views on queerness. this is a big deal, especially as a non binary and homosexual person. needless to say, gender has been very difficult for me growing up, and gerard way was singlehandedly the biggest hero for me in that realm.

gerard way coming on to stage in tennessee, homophobic and transphobic tennessee (again-i live here, i am aware of the atmosphere), wearing a short cheerleader’s uniform and shaved legs, long shaggy hair cradled on their shoulders-i could never have imagined. seeing my personal gender affirming hero coming out dressed so blatantly feminine was such a defining and important moment for me. they have always embraced femininity. they have always embraced queer-genderism. but to see them, to see gerard way of iconic band my chemical romance, in a skirt. such a simple act. such a simple message. but for me, a non binary person who has always seen gerard’s gender as the base, i have never in my life felt more seen. more accepted. ever.

hearing the songs that mean the world to me really hits me as i write this. summertime has always been my favorite from danger days and possibly ever, seconded by kids from yesterday (dd only lol, but she is way up on my list). the melodic romance of it all, the simplistic painting of running away, or removing headphones to hear the world again and ask the person to help quiet things. being a kid from yesterday, from the past, only living in the lights You make. realizing that you are growing, you are aging, you are always a child from the past and will forever hold them inside of you, no matter the future or what comes. living. being alive. out of spite or for yourself. hearing those songs live….hearing the guitar, hearing gerard’s vocals crooning, truly experiencing the lyrics as they were written. it’s amazing.

nashville’s show is the third. it is genuinely unbelievable that so much happened. never have i ever felt so alive. so correct. so affirmed and seen and loved and cared for. hearing the crowd sing of being alive, or staying alive, or refusing to succumb to the pressures and hatred that the outside world spews upon us was so healing. it was amazing to see thousands of people who have all had some sort of communal struggle-be it gender or sexuality or mental illness-come together and celebrate being alive…i will never forget this feeling.

i will never forget gerard way coming onto stage with a skirt. i will never forget the flashlights turning the arena bright during the world is ugly. i will never forget how it felt to yell at the top of my lungs that i should have been a better son, directed to gerard way themself. they should have been, we could all have been, better sons. i will never, ever forget this night.

to wrap up, tonight was the best night of my life and i’m not saying that in post concert bliss, or starstruck stupidity. genuinely, experiencing thousands of likeminded people come together after so long…i had never been to an mcr show before, yet i felt like i came home, that all those strangers were welcoming me back. most importantly, that mcr themselves were welcoming all of us back, like a mother opening the front door for her children on holidays, despite only seeing them once or twice a year. mcr to me is what a mother should be, what i imagine a mother is like. home, welcoming, loving. accepting. caring. and they always want you back, no matter how far you’ve strayed or how deeply you’ve fallen. they are there to pick you up and kiss your bleeding limbs and heal them with a band aid so you feel alright again, not great, maybe not even good, but good enough to be able to walk and live one more day. then one more. and again. until there are no more days to live, far, far down your lifeline. i hesitate to say anyone saved my life, because ultimately, i am the only one in charge of whether i live or die. but my chemical romance has preserved my life, helped me so much that it is not able to be put to words. the band has been there in the absolute darkest of darks for me, when i genuinely thought that i would not wake the next day. but i did, and they were there. thank you, mcr, for everything.

You Know The Stars, You Know The Game

[A Game Called Revenge]

Part Five

Series Masterlist Part One.

Summary: "ᴡᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇᴇ ꜱᴜᴄʜ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ." The afternoon after the Reaping is always the same every year for a District Two tribute. Sniffing out the other tributes and forming an alliance. Only this year they know the stars of the deadliest game.

Warnings: strictly 18+ due to the nature of content in some of the chapters. I don't think there's any specific chapter warnings this week, but there is the usual mentions of murder and death.

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: Hello there. Again, shit is real and getting real close. And as with the other chapters, if anyone wants to guess my favourite line then you get ten points. and if you know where the chapter title is from then you can have a bonus five.

Cato and Enobaria are already sitting at the long, mahogany table in the dining car when Clio and Brutus arrive and Xanthe arrives moments after they've sat down in their respective places.

"Just look at all this food!" She exclaims from behind them, practically glowing with excitement at the mere sight of the food laid out. "It's all for you, my victors!"

Food was piled high, each delicacy arranged on smooth, porcelain plates and silver platters. Various varieties of rich soup, fresh, crisp salads, cured meats and cheeses spread on solid silver charcuterie boards cover the table whilst several different fruits and desserts wait on display tables beside the chairs. Polished platinum goblets have been placed in front of each place mat, filled with colourful wine and ready to be drunk from. As soon as Xanthe sits at her seat around the dining table, Cato's hand is reaching towards the strips of meat on the platter, pulling a few onto his plate.

"Cato!" Xanthe scolds him for his manners.

"What?" He refutes, "I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry." Enobaria says quietly, almost as if she hadn't meant to say it aloud at all and looks up to find everyone's eyes on her as they break into laughter.

After their meal was over, Xanthe rises from her seat, signalling a nearby Avox to clear the empty plates and beckons the four into another room on the train while she dabs the corners of her lipstick stained mouth with an intricately folded serviette. "The recap of the Reapings is about to start!" Xanthe chirps, pointing to the plush couch in a gesture to make her victors sit as Panem's anthem plays through the large television.

"I haven't heard anything about who's been reaped this year but oh what a show this will be!" The escort continues as the four of them throw themselves on the large semi-circle couch, missing the eyerolls directed her way at her oblivious nature. Enobaria reaches for the pads of paper on the side table, passing a sheet to the other three and chucking pens in their direction.

The programme starts with District One, as usual.

"Cashmere and Gloss." Enobaria says, as everyone watches Cashmere's face falter for a split second when her brother's name is pulled out of the bowl. "They didn't volunteer, which is good for you two. Their arrogance comes from being paraded around the Capitol so long, but their skills aren't on par with yours anymore."

Brutus nods in agreement, "They're weaknesses are each other. Likely going to be highly guarded."

"So what you're saying is that we have to take them out at the same time?" Cato asks.

"Yes." Brutus confirms, "They might be your friends but given how Clio took out the Ones in her year, they're not going to be ones to trust when it comes down to it."

Clio watches Cashmere and Gloss raise their hands in the air on screen, fake smiles plastered on their faces as they shake their hands in confidence before the screen goes black momentarily. "The career alliance is still happening?" She asks.

"Yes." Enobaria answers, "We'll meet up with them when we get into the Capitol tonight as usual."

"Oh you two look wonderful up there!" Xanthe cries out, drawing everyone's attention back to the screen where the District Two reaping plays on screen.

Clio watches herself react to her name being called on the large screen. Happy, when no hesitation to step forward is caught by the cameras; the only reaction that of the slight curve of her lips which sets her features in a smirk that plays into her bloodthirsty persona perfectly. She watches the same expression mirrored on Cato's face as his name is pulled from the bowl; impressed that they both managed to keep their strong emotions in check for the cameras.

"That shit was rigged." Cato spits as he watches himself on screen.

"Cato!" Xanthe gasps, looking nervous as she scans the cart for unwanted listeners.

"Zeus fucking Melia clearly put our names in those bowls because I pissed him off. If you were to have picked any of those other slips it would still be us sitting here." He turns to Clio, "I'm sorry angel."

She laughs, "It's fine. Besides, I'm probably in there five times for pissing Snow off last year. We both fucked up."

"Well the good news is that you two are more than ready, and the Capitol loves you so it won't be hard to get our usual sponsors on board." Enobaria says, pointing to the screen where District Three begins to play.

"Wiress and Beetee, interesting." Brutus hums. The displeasure on their faces is visible. Beetee looks insecure standing on the stage once more, pushing his glasses up his face several times when they slip as he looks toward the ground whilst Wiress is pale, shaking ever so slightly as she moves onstage, a blank, distant look on her face - almost as if she wasn't completely present.

"Not great threats." The man continues, "But they're geniuses so don't underestimate them, especially if Beetee has access to water and a wire."

The couple look at each other with wide eyes. They've been taught about the nature of Beetee's win in the Academy. How he electrocuted half of the tributes, including all of the careers with a single piece of wire. I don't particularly want to die from electrocution, Clio thinks, taking a breath in as the tape moves to the next district.

"Ah Finnick Odair, youngest victor ever and will not shut up about it." Brutus punctuates his sentence with an eyeroll. "Extremely humble."

The trio of victors on the couch all let out a snort simultaneously. They've all gotten to know Finnick and humble is never a word that Clio would use to describe the man, watching as he grins and waves to all the cameras in a white long-sleeved knit jumper and a small black threaded shell necklace.

"What is he wearing?" Cato asks with a scoff. Tributes always want to wear their best clothing on Reaping day, on the chance that they were picked. A good impression is always important; something that had been drilled into them from their first days at the Academy.

"Fuck knows," Brutus chuckles. "No doubt flaunting to the Capitol. Charming, smart and very skilled in water. You'll do well to remember our training."

"We'll be discussing with the District Four mentors to try and get him in on the alliance." Enobaria says before pointing at the screen. "The only issue is that he'll be part of a package deal."

Clio watches as an older woman wastes no time in raising her hand, pointing to herself after signing something to a panicked Luna standing beside her. "Mags..."

Brutus nods slowly, a frown on his face as he watches Mags move to stand at Finnick's side, the latter placing a soft kiss into her hair as he wraps her in a hug. The four tributes eyes' gleamed slightly as they blink back their emotions, each mentally blaming the reflection of the television screen for the difference in their vision. "Look, no one is going to want to kill Mags but-"

"She's a liability to the alliance." Cato cuts him off.

"You'll be risking a lot to help her survive," Enobaria shrugs, leaning back further into the sofa, "Even if you manage to keep her alive until the final few tributes, it would only mean having to kill her to win."

As the screen moves to show the reaping in District Five, the four sit in silence. Even Xanthe hangs her head, evidently saddened by Mags' involvement in the games for the woman is such a strong motherly figure to so many; victors and Capitol escorts alike. Not being able to think of anything past the reapings being rigged, Cato is the one to break the silence.

"You think that Mags volunteered for Luna?" He asks no one in particular.

"It's highly likely." Enobaria replies. "From what I've seen they're reaping those of you who have caused some kind of problem."

"The Capitol's golden boy?" Cato laughs, "What did he sleep with t-"

"Cato." Brutus interrupts him, "Shut up."

Confusion washes over Clio's face as she processes the information she has just heard. Why would Finnick sleeping with Luna Crawford be a problem for President Snow? She thinks, I know she's gone a bit crazy but how is that really an issue he needs to be worrying about? Before she has a chance to ask, the screen moves to show the morphlings in District Six. Both sets of tributes from Five and Six look worse for wear, succumbing to addiction as if a gust of wind would cause them to fall dead on the ground. Neither Clio or Cato need their mentors to tell them those two aren't a threat, they can tell just by watching them tremble that they're likely cannon fodder - easy to kill in the bloodbath.

"Johanna and Blight." Enobaria says. "Blight isn't a threat but Johanna will need taking out."

"And quickly." Brutus agrees. "She doesn't trust career tributes as far as she can throw them. She will be out for you both so you need to do it first."

Clio watches on screen as Johanna stands at the front of the stage, arms crossed against her chest defiantly and a furious expression on her face. She missed when they pulled Johanna's name out of the bowl but she finds herself wondering why they even bothered with the formalities in District Seven. Johanna is the only living female victor from Seven so she was given no choice in returning to the arena, and from what Clio knows of Johanna's time in the Capitol after her games, Enobaria's problem victor theory is beginning to ring true. She raises an eyebrow at Blight, who looks nervous, though it's obvious he's attempting to not let this show as he stares down the camera before the coverage moves to the next district.

Districts Eight, Nine and Ten all pass in the same way. They're all fairly bland for victors. Nobody seems excited to have their name called. Nobody wants to go. All upwards of their thirties, several considered elderly and most of them in terrible shape, except for Chaff who still looks tall and visibly strong despite likely being nearly fifty. Xanthe makes comments on how incredibly touching it is when Cecilia is reaped and has to push away from a gaggle of children who cling to her legs to try and prevent her from taking her place on the stage. The pair from Ten shed a few tears, looking into each other's eyes desperately and refusing to part from each other. Each person from District Eight through to District Eleven looks resigned to their fate as the unenthusiastic clapping in their Districts make the atmosphere look duller, greyer and even more boring than usual until the camera switches to the final reaping.

Of all the Districts, the atmosphere in the twelfth was the dullest. Heavy and low. District Twelve is the poorest, dingiest district in Panem and having visited it on her victory tour, Clio is fully aware that they despise the Games. But the sheer lack of colour in the town square stands out. Even in the other outlying Districts, there was at least one decorative banner but Twelve seems to have nothing but a blank, dark grey building and a single lower resolution camera following their movements. The four of them watch as the escort, dressed in an extravagant wig covered in orange butterflies, places her hand inside the bowl. Clio's brow arches when she appears to fish around in the bowl as if another piece of paper will magically appear and she won't have to call out Katniss' name. They listen as the escort swallows loudly and reads the young girl's name, a tear slipping down her cheek as Katniss moves to the middle of stage. They lean forward on the sofa once Haymitch's name is announced in a high pitched gasp from the escort. Intrigued, they watch as Peeta immediately volunteers, stepping forward only to have his arm grabbed by Haymitch as the microphone picks up the words "I can't you do that" followed by a blunt response of "You can't stop me" as Peeta takes his place beside his district partner.

"Is he suicidal?" Cato asks, causing the four of them on the couch to laugh lightly.

"As much as he might be, the two of them have gained huge popularity in the Capitol over the past year which will provide them with a lot of sponsors." Brutus responds, as he switches the television off.

"Popularity they've gained from pretending to be like us." Clio seethes, pushing herself to a stand.

"Everyone will be after her. These games are a direct result of her actions but all she's done is glued a target to her back." Enobaria tells her, eyes following Clio's movements as the younger girl heads in the direction of the glass dividers.

"I hate her." Clio spits furiously. "I don't care who kills him as long as I get her."

The glass divider hisses shut behind her and the mentors find themselves thankful that the train car can't shake with the anger Clio would leave in her wake if there were solid oak doors inside. Weaving in and out between the different cars, she then reaches her own, sliding off the plush white slippers provided by the Capitol and jumps onto her bed. She sighs, searching for the remote of the television in her room before switching it on and crossing her arms over her chest in anger. A glance out of the train window tells her that they've got close to forty-five minutes to kill before arriving in the Capitol and having their first alliance meeting with their friends. Deciding against rooting through the small bookshelf in her room which she did in her first year on the train, she surfs through the trashy reality programmes on the television. There's nothing really all that interesting on considering that the Reaping is being replayed over and over on half of the main channels but she keeps flicking until she finally settles on a programme so trashy it will be sure to lift her mood: Real Housewives of Panem. She's so engrossed in the programme she doesn't avert her gaze when Cato enters her room and throws himself onto the bed beside her, watching her features relax ever so slightly at the idiots on screen.

As the train grinds to a halt after a while, the sound of the Capitol's citizens is deafening. Several dozen stand outside the train car, all dressed in vivid, intricate outfits with brightly coloured hair and makeup; all desperate to catch a glimpse of two of their recent, and favourite victors. They're waving and shouting and cheering as the Clio moves to stand by the window. She can't hear what they're shouting through the thick glass over the sound of the train but she watches as they throw flowers and soft toys at the windows of the train, desperate to be the one who grabs the attention of a tribute. The squeals of the crowd only get louder when Cato joins her side and the couple wave at the growing mass of people.

They continue to wave through the growing discomfort in their wrists until Xanthe enters the room. She's changed her hair in the time it took for them to reach the capitol, the golden strands styled in neat curls held tightly above her head to compliment the deep wine red dress with a high, lifted lace collar. "There you two are" she smiles as she waves apologetically to the crowd waiting on the train platform; she is stealing two of their tributes from them after all as she blathers on about their schedule.

Xanthe is the first one off of the train. Cato follows after her, Clio hot on his heels with Brutus and Enobaria following a few steps behind; the four of them having to shrug off the hands of various people who are shouting their names as they try to cling to them. Cato reaches his hand behind him, and without a word Clio puts her hand in his as he looks straight ahead and tugs her with him away from the crowd and into the new Tribute Centre. This new building hosts an extra, thirteenth penthouse floor this year and Clio can't fathom why as she is herded through the lobby and into the glass lift. The ride taking them to the second floor is incredibly short, and the doors slide open to a hall decked with elaborate golden picture frames and another intricately decorated door which has the number two painted in a solid gold and detailed with golden leaves speckled with burgundy red. Once the door is opened, the new suite comes into view and the expanse of the room is visible. Filled with various different colours and styles of furniture they all compliment the matte black walls and ceilings, each adorned with gold accents.

"We have ten minutes until we need to be on the first floor." Xanthe tells them, as she shows them to their rooms. The rooms are large and lavish. Much like the foyer, the walls are painted a matte black, gold trim running along the top. The bed frames and furniture are coated in gold and the bathroom is made almost entirely out of black marble tiles and houses two control panels; one above the sink and the other above the tub and shower head. Quickly washing off her makeup and tying her hair up in a loose ponytail she heads back into their living room area.

As they step into the lift, Brutus turns to them, "These may have been your friends before but they're purely your allies now. Remember they'll want you dead the second they step in there but you're far too useful to them for now."

Well that's just lovely, Clio thinks, so much for 'friendship'. As Topaz, one of the mentors for One this year opens the shiny silver door for them, Clio can't help but gape at the opulence of their floor. Sparkling ceilings reflect a variety of jewel tones. The furniture is similar to these on the second floor but is all made in complimentary silver or gold depending on the jewel tone represented in the ceiling. Ruby red matches with golden trims and sapphire blue paired with silver accents. The seating area consists of identical velvet chaise longues, each one a pristine white with silver furnishings.

The four of them immediately take a seat, Enobaria moves to sit beside Topaz whilst Brutus joins Augusus on the furthest chaise longue to the right, leaving Clio and Cato to slot themselves either side of Cashmere and Gloss who smile at them from the middle of the couch. There's no need for introductions this year, unlike their respective years as tributes, they've all met before. They even helped construct the career alliance in last year's games.

Augustus starts laughing, "We all know why we're here."

When the group nods he continues, "Normally we'd talk about our skills but considering we all know one another and our strengths I don't think there's any point in introducing ourselves. Instead I suggest that we talk about our greatest competition and how our alliance can take them down."

Enobaria speaks next, "You four have a diverse group of skills at play here. Clio and Cashmere can sort out any of your long range targets with their throwing knives. All of you can throw a spear with some accuracy and I am confident that both Cato and Gloss can hold their own in hand to hand combat and swords."

There's hums of agreement as they wait for whoever will speak next. It's Gloss. "I want to lead." Several pairs of eyes flit to him. "I'm the oldest."

"He does have the most experience with this kind of thing being older and having had more tributes." Cashmere backs her brother up as she turns to face Clio beside her, waiting for her opinion. Clio finds it odd that she's not pushing to be leader herself, given that she's only a year younger than Gloss and has always been the more commanding of the two. Her eyes meet Cato's on the other end of the couch before they reluctantly agree - no point in pissing off their allies already after all.

"Given that this is a Quarter Quell, I want you to hit all the main survival stations again in your training. Brush up on your knowledge of edible plants, water location and basic first aid. We have no way of knowing what, if anything, will be in the Cornucopia this time so that will be important." Topaz instructs them.

"And commandeer the weapons stations. Do not give the other victors a chance to learn a new skill." Brutus chimes in as the others nod before the tributes are dismissed.

It's strange to all of them, the four on the couch being sent back into their respective rooms like children again so that their mentors can strategise now that the alliance has been agreed upon and a leader has been established. Once they are back in their suite, the two flop down next to each other on the soft black couch and begin to talk their own strategy.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Clio," Cato says, causing her head to snap towards him in concern. "I know you and Cashmere are friends but Gloss pissed me off when I first met him and he's pissing me off now."

Clio laughs, "You think I don't know that?" She nudges at his side playfully, "To be honest the way he's treating us like children is pissing me off too."

"I'm the oldest," Cato mocks, raising his voice an octave causing Clio to laugh again. "Enobaria was right when she mentioned their arrogance. They both think they can win alone."

"For our friends they don't seem overly keen in forming an alliance with us. There's something in Gloss' eyes that is telling me not to trust him."

Cato nods. "I just don't know if the alliance is a good idea at all. Maybe it should just be you and I. It wouldn't be easy but we need to think about betraying them in the bloodbath."

Unfortunately I don't think he's wrong, Clio thinks. She mulls over her options, weighing up the value of her new found friendship with Cashmere. My friendship with her is going to come to an end anyway, may as well betray her to keep Cato alive.

They jump when the suite door slams open. Their mentors don't say anything until they have watched the door shut, sealing them into the room.

"They cannot be trusted." Enobaria says almost immediately. "One of you must be awake at all times around them in that arena. Do not leave yourselves vulnerable in any way because they will take that as their sign to end the alliance."

Clio looks at her quizzically, wanting to ask how their mentors have come to this conclusion. She trusts Enobaria and Brutus with her life since they helped to get her out of the arena the first time but her words leave her slightly puzzled as to what was said in the last ten minutes to so drastically change their opinion on the alliance.

"They don't trust you, Clio." Brutus says bluntly. "After what you pulled with their tributes they think it's best to remove you from the equation."

Clio scoffs, "For fucks sake. I'm not the only one who's broken an alliance."

"She's right," Cato agrees, "I killed the boy from One in my year and they must have killed at least one of ours in theirs."

Both of their mentors know they're right. The career alliance is never meant to last the entirety of the Games anyway. Someone has to break the alliance at some point, but they can understand why the siblings are extra weary this time around.

"It wouldn't hurt to be cautious." Enobaria says. "Topaz and Augustus know that they need the two of you to remove the likes of Finnick and Johanna but as soon as they're dealt with I suggest you deal with One. And quickly."

"We have come to the decision that any sponsors received will be kept separate between Districts, so we're really going to be fighting tooth and nail to get you anything this year. Especially with Finnick and Katniss to contend with as well." Brutus informs the two of them. "I need you on your best behaviour at all times, and do not go anywhere without the other while I'm trying to convince some stupid wig wearing fuckers that you two are the better couple."

"Could dealing with them mean eliminating them at the bloodbath?" Cato asks, voice casual as he continues. "Sure, it would give some of the others the chance to run away but we could always hunt them back down."

Enobaria shakes her head, "They're fast. By the time you take out one, the other will be there waiting and besides, an unstable group of four will increase your odds if you run into a few of the others. They aren't the only threats."

"But I-"

Brutus quickly interrupts Cato with a shake of his head. "This isn't some fun game anymore Cato. You're up against victors, strong and experienced and older than you. You're going to need to get creative."

With a roll of his eyes, Cato responds, "Fine."

"Did you propose any terms on who gets to smother the girl on fire?" Clio asks.

"They both want the glory of the kill." Enobaria responds, "But I strongly suggested to Topaz that they leave her for you. You're welcome."

Brutus is the one to move the topic of conversation along. "Look, we can fine tune our strategy later in the week. For now, go get some rest. The ceremony is in the afternoon this year so your prep teams will be up early to get you ready while Enobaria and I speak to Luna and Ven about Finnick."

"Yes, sir." Cato jokingly salutes as the two of them rise from the couch and head towards the bedrooms at the end of the floor.

Are you in Hungary?? aaaaah, so happy for you!!! I hope you can see Carlos :)

Yes, I have been in Hungary and yes, I have seen Carlos 😉 Every. Day. 😍🙈

Alright, I will also "use" your message here anon and finally tell you all a bit about my race weekend in Hungary or more precise about the important stuff like seeing the drivers 😅

Like I have already mentioned above, I have been lucky enough to see Carlito every day 😍 Actually, I haven't expected to see any drivers arriving at the track at all like back then in Spielberg last year, but just a few minutes after we have arrived on Thursday around midday, a dark blue Ferrari drove by and since some fans began to scream, I had to assume that one of the Ferrari drivers was sitting inside there, but I haven't known who it was. But since we had to pass the time to be allowed to get to the track and we knew then for sure that the drivers had to take that road to get into the paddock as well, we wanted to get to the street and wave at the drivers just like we have done in Austria as well. My boyfriend and I were just getting closer to the road when another Ferrari, a black one this time, drove by and had to stop at the crossing. My boyfriend instantly began to scream and wave as well, while I didn't recognize who was sitting inside. First I have thought it was Charles but then I wasn't so sure about it anymore until my boyfriend turned around, looked all shocked at me and enlighted me that it was actually Carlos. Yup, I really haven't recognized Carlos first 😅 He really looked different that day with his haircut, but later I had to find out that he has actually also never looked that great before like on that day 😍 Anyway, Carlos first hasn't seen us waving at him only when Isa sitting next to him told him to look to his left and he finally waved back at us ☺ Oh, that feeling.. 🥰

Later, when we fans were allowed to go on the track and through the pitlane, they were building up an interview on one of these drivers’ parade trucks and since the clever blondie I am sometimes (😉) I told my bf and friends to stay here and wait, since I assumed that the drivers will have to walk down here to get to the truck. And not even two minutes later the Ferrari boys were already coming out of the building and walked by just a few metres away from us. That was also the moment when Carlos has looked over at me for one quick moment 🙈

The other mornings we used to wave at the drivers as well - on Friday Carlos didn’t have to stop at the crossing, why I have only seen him driving by. Isa has been sitting right next to him again. On Saturday he had to stop why fans were running over to his car to get pics and autographs. I have been able to look at Carlos and Isa in their car for some longer then. On Sunday Rupert was sitting right next to Carlos and since Isa wasn’t in the car with Caco and there also aren’t any pics of her from the race day, I assume that she wasn’t in Hungary anymore at that point. Carlos was giving autographs on Sunday as well, where also my bf got his.

One more thing about Carlos, which really positive surprised me - people seem to really like Carlos. At least more people than I have thought would support him. That was really something nice to see.

Okay, coming to Lando - my boyfriend has got an autograph from him on Saturday where he had also told him that our cat is named after him 😉 My boyfriend has been lucky enough to even get a second autograph from Lando on Sunday and also one from Daniel.

On Saturday we have also seen Caco and Rupert in their party bus - also one of my favourite moments of the weekend. Actually no one had paid attention to their brown bus, because no one assumed that a driver would arrive in such a car at the race track. But they had to wait by the crossing as well and when I looked to my right I suddenly saw the two of them. They were having such a great time, a private disco in their bus 😄 

To sum it up, we were also blessed enough to see Charles, Yuki, Pierre, George, Checo, Fernando, Esteban, Mick, Zhou, Alex, Nicolas, Lance, Seb, Robert Kubica, Jackie Stewart, Totto, Frederic Vasseur, Günther Steiner, Andreas Seidl, Mattia Binotto and one of my personal favourites Ferdinand Habsburg and Ernst Hausleitner 😉 We have asked Ernst where his “Schatzi” (sweetheart) is, since he always calls Alexander Wurz like that. He told us that he was actually still asleep 😉

Okay, three more things before I will finally shut up - we almost had a car accident with Andreas Seidl because he did cut a curve 🙈 On Friday a Daniel fan has been lucky enough to stand right where Daniel’s car had to stop before the crossing and she got an autograph and also a pic with him. That girl was crying so much after meeting her favourite driver and even though I’m not a Daniel fan at all, I had to cry with her because I just can’t see people cry without starting to cry as well 😅 And the last thing about the weekend are those two kids who were waiting for the drivers to arrive right next to us as well on Saturday and who were already all nervous at nine in the morning. They were massive Charles fans and couldn’t wait to see him. I told the girl then that she didn’t have to be that nervous already now, because Charles will probably arrive around eleven since he has also done so the other days. They were so cute and excited, but sadly I don’t know if they have finally seen their favourite driver, since they walked up the road and I haven’t seen them again. But while they were waiting next to us, some Ferrari mechanics did stop to give them autograph cards from Charles and Carlos - sadly they weren’t signed, but it was still very sweet of them ☺

Aright, that was all for now 😅 Sorry for the long text, but maye some of you have been interested in it 🙈

Every day. Every day I see your post in my recommended; "Hey. Do today's heardle." I do not know what a heardle is. I do not know what force is causing this but I see you every day and I felt like you should know. (This is all light hearted, I am in know way upset at you, I just have that post probably permanently in my brain now-)

thank you for sending this ask because i'm going to go on a bit of a rant because my own post haunts me too.

to explain, heardle is a Daily music game that was created during the popularity boom of wordle. again, it is Daily. you open the site, it gives you the first second of a song and more clips later on and you have to guess which song it is. the song changes every day, have i stressed that enough?

i made that heardle post on july 13th because for that day and that day only the song to guess was the black parade by my chemical romance, and playing the heardle would effectively g-note everyone who participated. so i thought "oh i HAVE to get the tumblrinas to play this" and made a quick lil post and left for work. to my complete and utter joy the post had garnered about 14k notes in a single day with people swearing at me in the tags. i was delighted as now my two most popular posts on here consist of g-noting people and rickrolling people (yeah if you saw that fake classic tumblr post uquiz that was me too)

however. my hubris would soon catch up to me. as i mentioned earlier i made that post on the thirteenth. it's currently the twentieth and Every Single Day my notifications are filled to the brim with people saying its not in their location, spoiling the Daily song for me and countless "i dont get it this is a zz top song whats so funny about that" because the heardle has changed Seven Times since i posted about it and for god knows why everyone keeps interacting with it and i have to keep seeing it. okay i will admit that i did give it an extra bump the other day because it was a weezer song and like come on i had to but im so tired of seeing it

(this is not directed at you anon you seem very nice) i dont care that its not available in your location. i dont care that you dont get the joke. you missed it. stop reblogging my post its one thing to deal with the burden of a popular tumblr post but its another thing entirely for said post to be a one-time for 24 hours only funny. give me a break

Just finished listening to the new Panic! At The Disco album...

And oh Lucy, that was not great.

To be fair it wasn't an absolute shitshow, there were actually a couple songs I enjoyed.

"Don't Turn Off The Light", while not sonically super inventive or anything had me singing along around the third line. It's simple, it's sweet, it doesn't really evolve or go anywhere, but it was definitely the first track on the album I didn't actively dislike.

"Sing It Louder" was cool, I actually went back and listened to it a second time cos it was kind of a bop. Not a banger, but definitely a bop, I had to sing along with this.

Thematically, I liked "Something About Maggie" and "Sad Clown", but I can't really see myself humming or singing them to myself. These were also a couple of the more interesting one sound-wise on first listen but the bar was pretty low to be honest.

"God Killed Rock And Roll" is a song I kind of don't want to like. This song is basically Brendon Urie's take on Bohemian Rhapsody, but unlike My Chem with "Welcome To the Black Parade" for instance, it doesn't really evolve the core idea, and feels less "heavily influenced by Bohemian Rhapsody" and more "this is just Bohemian Rhapsody". Even down to using some note patterns which were definitely on purpose. But even though it's similar to Bohemian Rhapsody, it's still pretty flacid in comparison cos it only really has two parts to it, whereas the original has around four or five.

And that's about it in terms of songs on the album I actually somewhat enjoyed. The rest either didn't do it for me or worse off, did nothing but bad for me. Panic! has been a one man act for a while now, but this is the first album I think where it truly does just sound like a guy in his basement. The mixing is really weird in parts, some transitions are either jarring or non-existent, there are some weird sound choices in terms of amps and filters, and something feels off about his voice. Overall it just isn't a super high quality album in comparison to his previous work, which I think might be where the root of the issue lies for me.

I'm not the kind of fan to get angry when an artist changes their sound, they have the right to do so and fans aren't entitled into forcing their favorite creatives to stay in a bubble. But one thing that *does* bother me is just how low quality this genre switched album feels.

To my understanding, this album sounded like an homage to many famous classic rock and rollers, which is fine, that's cool and all. But it walks the line of "Nostalgic Tribute" too clumsily and at many points just feels *generic*, due to most songs just sounding like the concept of "rock and roll" in your brain. MCR who I mentioned earlier changed their sound with each album, not just their instruments and drummers, but jumping genres and themes pretty drastically, but never really having a substantial quality drop. Even Fall Out Boy who've also switched up their sound every album, managed keep up a pretty consistent amount of production quality in their work. Whether or not you actually enjoy the newer songs as much in comparison to their old work is up to you, but in terms of budget and effort, their discography has a pretty good track record (especially considering how many years they would release albums in succession).

I'm not upset that this doesn't sound like a Panic! At The Disco Album

I'm upset that it doesn't sound like Panic! At The Disco made this album. The key distinction between those two statements is the former is comparing the stylistic sound, while the latter is comparing the artistry. In the same vein of how this is the first album to actually just sound like a guy made it in his basement, this is also the first album to feel like there isn't any ounce of Panic! left in it. It's just Brendon.

I felt sorry for doubting her and thinking she was just testing him again, so I didn't mention it and said she was just trying to casually chat but... uh... I guess I didn't need to feel bad about it after all... Regardless, I do believe that in her heart, she just wanted him to chat with her about that guy that he should somewhat remember and feel better about her own doubts about him. Its... complicated really. I wonder tho... is it my fault that this didn't end up well? Because I've gave the worst possible Answer? Or will it always end up like this?

I mean... it was impressive how she played with the Materia... but somehow she still kind of ruined it ^^'

Uh... we are... not really doing that? ^^' I mean... I guess we do kill Soldiers from time to time and we certainly do not plan to play nice with Sephirot either but... an assassination sounds a bit too brutal for us ^^'

Oh god! Please tell me its not the guy with the motorbike. PLEASE!

I couldn't agree more... URG! Lets just get this over with.

Here I am, being absolutely frustrated for multiple In-Game-reasons and he is freaking flirting with me!

Holla. If you want to get to Aerith, you have to get through Cloud AND Tifa, my dude! So... I think I should call an Ambulance in advance, because its going to hurt XD

Oh... he just... left. Okay. No complains here ^^'

And he hasn't even met Zack yet... (Don't throw things at me! I was joking! Just joking! I swear!)

Thank you for the warning... lets go!

*goes crying in a corner* Not another freaking minigame. I hate those. I fucking, freaking hate those damned minigames, especially the non-optional ones T.T

I fucked it up. It might take me a few tries... URG.

I made it the second time... thank god. I want to rush through the game as much as possible but it doesn't make it easy for me AT ALL.

I could be wrong... but isn't this thing supposed to be ours eventually?

I am stuck again. In the middle of a bunch of Shira soldiers who don't even notice us ^^'

I have no idea who exactly the guy is or what his aim is. He is from Wutai. Rufus shot him once. And he looked like one of the man in the black robes for small a moment. But other than that... no idea!

You see those two looking at Cloud like this and you know he has already lost that argument XD

They have way too much fun XD

This is getting out of hand ^^'

Oh god! Is this ever going to end?

You need to win the upcoming parade for some extra point for Aerith. So... in trouble now. We're in trouble now. So in trouble now...

I certanly was not good enough for that ^^' Uh... Ma'am XD

I will never finish this game XD

Easier than Face-to-Face

(for Writer's Month day 26 prompts found and online dating. AU for my WIP Not As An Us where Seth and Hailey don't start dating in high school.)

Jordyn leaped off the couch, aiming her phone at the TV and snapping a picture. When she realized Hailey was staring at her, she looked up from the message she was typing. “For Blake,” she explained. “He loves treehouses.” The Thanksgiving Day Parade float had been in the shape of a treehouse. “He said he wants to take me to one sometime, the fancy ones you can sleep in. I kind of wonder if he’s thinking about it for a proposal.”

Hailey didn’t mean to sigh, but she kind of did.

“Sorry,” said Jordyn, looking at her. “I’ll try to talk less about Blake.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk about him. I’m happy for you, I just… want… somebody.”

Jordyn glanced toward the stairs as if Mom might be coming down them, which she wasn’t. It wasn’t worth looking. It was impossible to go down the stairs without making noise. “I have an idea,” she said in a voice just above a whisper. “I’m not talking about it here. We can go out after dinner and… no, it’s Thanksgiving, everywhere will be closed.”

“Some of them will be open for Black Friday,” said Hailey.

“Oh! Good point.” Jordyn considered it for a second. “Do you want to go out for Black Friday? We’ve never done it.” There was a pause before she added, “Someone I know was talking about how some people in their family go out late at night when it’s quiet.”

‘Someone she knew’ must have been Blake. At least she was trying not to talk about him.

What was this idea Jordyn had that she was worried about Mom overhearing?

Jordyn got permission to use the car– actually, she didn’t even ask for permission, more told Mom what they were doing. Hailey would have at least asked, even though Mom wasn’t going to be using the car in the middle of the night so she wasn’t likely to say no. Actually, for a minute Hailey thought Mom might say she wanted to come along. She seemed really into the idea. Maybe she was just excited Hailey and Jordyn were doing something together on their own.

They took naps and got up around midnight, and Jordyn drove them to the mall. They were smelling candles in the candle store– Jordyn liked burning them in her apartment at college so she wanted to buy some– when she said, “My idea was, why don’t you try a dating app?”

“Mom hates dating apps,” said Hailey. “She freaked out when you told her maybe she should try one.” Mom had been the one to mention dating, saying she might give it a try now that both of her girls were not only in college but close to graduating, but she’d gone into a whole rant about dating apps being artificial and wanting a true relationship based on true human connection and mutual feelings.

Jordyn looked at her. “That’s why we’re not having this conversation at home. I really think if you’re looking for somebody… Because you have trouble putting yourself out there, right? Have you ever gone on any dates? You’ve never mentioned it.”

“Kind of?” said Hailey, swapping the candle she’d been smelling for the one Jordyn had. “Liz has introduced me to a couple of guys. It never went anywhere.”

“Well, the kind of guy for you is not going to be the kind of guy for Liz.” Jordyn laughed a little, smelled the candle Hailey had handed her again, capped it and held onto it.

“They were guys she didn’t like,” Hailey argued. She wasn’t sure how to bring the conversation back to online dating. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to.

Jordyn did, a minute or so later, another candle picked out and on the edge of the display cabinet with the first one. “I just think it would work for you, because it makes it easier to reach out to people, and easier to end things if you don’t like them. You don’t even have to tell them you don’t like them in person, just send them a message. And block them if they’re a jerk about it.” She looked at Hailey again and clearly saw her hesitation. “Just give it a try. If you don’t find anyone you’re interested in, you haven’t lost anything.”

“I wouldn’t know how to make a profile. How to make myself sound good.”

“First of all,” said Jordyn, with a little bit of an eyeroll, “you don’t want to make yourself sound good, you want to make yourself sound like yourself. So you attract people who want the real you.”

“How do you know so much about this?”

Jordyn hesitated. Eyes closed as she smelled another candle, she answered. “It’s how I met Blake.”

“Really?”Hailey did not mean to say that so loud. Good thing they weren’t having this conversation at home.

“Which I would have mentioned to Mom if she had been cautiously dubious and not entirely freaked out.”

“You were on a dating app sophomore year of college?”

Jordyn shrugged. “It’s a big college. There were a lot of people to meet and I wasn’t going to meet everyone naturally. And college is a good time to be going on dates because there are lots of college things to do.” She waited for Hailey to say something, and when Hailey didn’t she said, “How about this? I’ll set up a profile for you. I’ll give you the password. That way you don’t have to deal with setting everything up if you feel like jumping in. Or dipping your toes in.”

“What if I don’t like what you put in my profile?”

“I just said I’ll give you the password. You can change it.”

“What if someone replies to something you said in the profile that I wouldn’t have said?” Hailey wasn’t really trying to argue against it. She was trying to make sure she was prepared.

“Just ignore them.” Jordyn shot her a smile as she picked up another candle. “Or tell them your profile is full of lies because it was created by your meddling older sister.”

Hailey laughed a little. And decided to let Jordan make her a profile.

So I was bored and decided to see if I could find a guy you might be interested in. (Before you say anything, I wasn’t actually going to message them.) This guy I found, apparently he went to our high school and was your year! Did you know him?

Hailey did not necessarily expect it to be someone she knew, so it was a surprise when she saw the picture. He was in some of my classes. She thought about saying she’d always thought he was cute, but decided to leave that out.

He’s cute. He goes to a college near me, I wasn’t thinking it would use my location not yours. I just wondered.

Hailey thought about messaging him.

She thought about it for most of the weekend, and then she did it.

Hey, you might not remember me but we knew each other in high school.

She got a reply much faster than she’d have expected, if she’d been expecting one at all. Of course I remember you! And he asked how college was going for her, and they talked about classes and friends for a while. When he mentioned he was in a fraternity, she frowned at her phone and typed out So you go to a lot of parties? I’m not really a party person.

I go to parties but I don’t think I’m what you’d call a party person. And I don’t think our parties are typical fraternity parties? There’s usually more air hockey than dancing.

Air hockey?

Yeah. We have a custom table.

Whatever Hailey had expected from a guy in a fraternity, it was not proudly declaring they had a custom air hockey table. I would go to a party where people were playing air hockey. She hesitated before saying the other thing she thought of saying, but she remembered what Jordyn had said about finding someone she could be herself with. As long as they didn’t expect me to drink. I’m not really into drinking. At least until she was 21. Which she almost was. But that felt too complicated to get into.

I don’t think anybody would care. I wouldn’t care. His next message was, Would you be able to come to a party here? I think you’re pretty far away.

Oh, yeah, my sister was helping me with my profile and it accidentally used her location. She realized after she said it that maybe she shouldn’t have, but she was being herself. I don’t have a car but one of my friends does and I bet I could talk her into driving over. She’s definitely a party person. Is there a party you’d want me to go to? She eyed that last sentence for a minute. Was it too pushy, inviting herself? He wouldn’t have asked if she could come to a party if he didn’t want her to, would he?

She changed the sentence to Would you want me to come to a party? and sent it.

He answered, If you can make it happen, yes.

Jordyn wasn’t going to believe this. Then again, she’d had the idea and found him, so maybe she would.

-

2020 day 26: The Adventure You Need (summer vacation)

2021 day 26: Dreaming in Opposite Directions (depth)

2022 day 26: To Learn from the Past (time travel x Flash Fiction Friday #165 A Mere Relic)