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cherie-doll · 1 month ago

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Cod men reaction .

He and reader were on a mall date and reader suddenly stopped to look at a kids toy/a book/a book series. The thing is, reader grown up as the oldest grandchild, they used to have that toy/book(s), but it was ruined by their younger siblings/cousins.

Based on my real situation. Sorry for the broken grammar, I was typing this with one hand while eating pizza.

this reminds me of how i used to collect the archie comics as a kid and i loved reading them until my younger sibling ruined it bc they slobbered all over the pages like a dog, also, i hope that pizza was good i'm lowkey hungry

༢ུ· Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price would turn right away when he noticed you've stopped walking. He's watching you, the skin creasing around his eyes as he smiles and his eyes soften. There's just something to seeing you in awe, recognizing that thing you've wanted for a long time, the nostalgia that must've bubbled up inside of you seeing it again. He'll come up beside you and say "why don't we buy it?".

Simon stared, confused at what could be so interesting, and when he saw it was only a silly stuffed animal. At first he thinks it only caught your attention because it was cute, but it was quite plain, a little ugly looking plush too. But you remember hugging it when you slept as a child, it had a certain smell to it too, until it got ripped apart by your sibling's puppy. You had cried but never got a new one. Without prompting from his part you start telling him the story of how much you loved that thing, and how you still sort of do. Silently nodding and already pulling out his wallet.

Johnny actually pointed out the game you mentioned playing when you were younger, the game you described to him because you couldn't remember the name of it. "Isn't that the game you've been talking about?". You excitedly reply that it is as he picks up the box, your eyes going straight to the price tag but he's already going to checkout to buy it. You ask him what he's doing, "you've been wanting to try it out again, right?" he replies with a smile.

Kyle remembers the time he helped you go through boxes when you moved in with him and how he opened a box filled with old stuff from your childhood. He had found a set of beat up books, some with pages missing, chunks ripped out or with crayon scrawled on them. You tell him it was a series you loved reading as a kid but was messed up by your siblings who played a mean prank on you. He later goes on out and purchases the same set of books and surprised you with them when he arrives home.

Roach once noticed a keychain made of seashells hanging on your bag, some of the shells were broken but it still looked like it had been a pretty little trinket. He played with it, fidgeting with it until he asked you why you still carried the old broken keychain. You tell him it was a gift from your late grandfather that he had made, kids had pulled at it and it had fallen to the floor, breaking in pieces. You had tried fixing it before but were missing pieces. He didn't buy you a new one, instead he spent an evening gathering seashells that looked close to the broken ones and rearranging them in the same order. It was difficult but was worth seeing you happy.

Alejandro could probably late to having to give up your toys to younger siblings or cousins because he had to do the same. So, it feels as if he heals something within himself when you both stop and look at the toys in a secondhand store that bring you a sort of nostalgia. He remembers summers spent playing outside and having to share the toy plane with his siblings. He notices you staring at a toy too and decides to give into making the little kid still in both of you happy.

Rudy has seen how you still keep the little dolls aligned neatly on your shelf. He's noticed how you put up a new one every time you find one when going through your old stuff. He's listened as you tell him how there is one specific doll you remember owning that was your favorite to play with, until it was either taken by some other kid who thrown away accidentally. He spots it at an antique shop and recognizes it because he's always thinking of you. Knowing this will make you feel complete he buys it and excitedly goes home to show you.

Phillip would have been walking along just like any other day he takes you shopping at the mall for you to let some stress out by swiping a credit card. He felt the absence of your hand on his arm and when he turned around he saw you in the toy shop through the glass display. When you held it in your hands, you felt your old emotional attachment to the toy reignite, it was smaller than you remembered but still as secure and comforting as ever. You turn to find Phillip beside you, he only nods, giving you the green light to just go ahead and buy it.

Makarov would hardly deny you from buying anything you wanted. It just strikes him as odd for there to be a change in the pattern you keep of buying clothes, jewelry and other luxurious items for a stuffed animal. But he knew that soft look in your eye, the reminiscing of a memory from long ago still etched in your mind that bloomed in your heart again. His eyes went from plush to you and back to the plush again. He told you to buy it and anymore you might have wanted.

Keegan found it slightly amusing that you had gotten so excited over seeing a children's series you thought had become lost media. He had taken you to the bookstore and instead of finding some cute romcom or some classical piece of literature you ended up in the corner of the kid's book section immersed in rereading the series that had become your escapism when you were a kid. You were going to leave it back where you found it when leaving but Keegan just chuckled and told you to buy the entire series.

König stared curiously at how entranced you were by the plush the kid held in front of you while at the food court. At first, he thought you were having baby fever or something, but really you were more interested in kid's backpack plush. You remember having one as a kid, you used to take it everywhere with you until you lost it, not knowing if one of your parents gave it away. You passed by a store that sold them, and König guided you inside the store to buy one for you. It was funny when the lady at the register asked if it was a gift for your kid.

Horangi knew you always had a thing for collecting adorable figurines, toys, anything that reminded you of when you were a kid. You took care of them so well too, placing them on shelves which he built btw, and dusting them off frequently. When asked why you were so particular about caring for them, you said it was because your old toys were always being broken from your siblings playing too rough with them. It must've broke your little kid heart to see them on the ground, all dirty and chipped off pieces. Now, he is always surprising you with one when he comes back from the store.

Nikto's first thought was that you had picked up the figurine as a gift for one of the kids in your family. At first, he couldn't understand that you were getting it for you, you were staring at the toy so fondly. What memory could have arisen in your mind at the moment? But he recognized the feeling of finding serenity in the little mundane things in life; in your case a toy. He offered to pay for it and as he drove home, he kept glancing over to you and seeing how you had the little thing in your hands, holding it instead of leaving it in the bag. He couldn't even tease you for it.

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drawing-you-as-a-critter · 2 months ago

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Hi, yes, do you want to have a doodled drawing of a character, animal, object or other being as some kind of creature? Some sort of beast? Some crawling little thing?

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#creature design #gimmick blog #character design #drawing prompt #artblr #artists of tumblr #traditional sketch #doodle

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p0orbaby · 3 months ago

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Could you write something about reader having surgery? Leah worrying about her & getting super stressed out x

Leah’s pacing. Of course she is. She’s wearing the trainers that squeak on the hospital floor, the ones you begged her to throw away three months ago. “They’ve got character,” she said then, like that was a reasonable argument for keeping footwear that sounded like an off-brand comedy gag every time she took a step. Now, the sound feels like a metronome for her anxiety.

She’s also muttering under her breath, something about waiting rooms being designed to drive people mad. “Why is there always a random fish tank?” she asks no one in particular, gesturing at the gurgling monstrosity in the corner. “Like, is that meant to be calming? Watching a clownfish swim into a plastic castle?”

Kim, who you bullied into babysitting Leah while you’re in surgery, hums noncommittally and sips her tea. It’s the worst thing she could’ve done because it prompts Leah to snap, “You’re too calm. Why are you so calm?”

“Because it’s a routine procedure,” Kim replies, her tone so even it borders on condescending. “She’ll be fine, Leah”

But Leah doesn’t look convinced. She crosses her arms, leans against the wall, then decides against it and resumes pacing. “Routine doesn’t mean risk-free,” she mutters. “What if they mix up her file with someone else’s? What if they give her a kidney transplant instead of fixing her knee?”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?” Kim asks, barely suppressing a laugh.

Leah whirls around. “Anything’s possible, Kim. Hospitals are chaos. I’ve read articles”

Kim just shakes her head and goes back to scrolling her phone, clearly regretting agreeing to this.

Leah’s still fidgeting when the surgeon finally appears. The man is smiling, calm and professional, but she doesn’t let her guard down. Not even when he says, “The operation went smoothly. She’s in recovery now”

“Define smoothly,” Leah demands, squinting at him like he’s lying. “No complications? No close calls? You didn’t drop anything inside her, did you?”

“Leah!” Kim hisses, mortified.

The surgeon, to his credit, only blinks. “She’s fine,” he repeats, clearly accustomed to this brand of hysteria. “You can see her shortly”

Leah doesn’t wait. She marches down the hall like she’s storming the pitch, the squeaking of her trainers echoing behind her.

When she reaches your room, you’re half-conscious, propped up in bed with a silly-looking hospital gown that does nothing for your dignity. Your eyes flutter open at the sound of her trainers, and you manage a groggy smile.

“You’re here,” you mumble, your voice sluggish from the anaesthetic.

“Of course I’m here,” Leah says, pulling a chair up to your bedside. “How do you feel? Do you need water? Ice? A lawyer in case something went wrong?”

You blink at her, too out of it to process her rambling. “I think they gave me morphine. I feel amazing”

Leah exhales sharply, her hands twitching like she wants to touch you but isn’t sure where. “Good. That’s good. You look… fine. A bit pale. But fine”

“Thanks,” you slur. “You look sexy”

She finally smiles, though it’s small and a little wobbly. “You scared the hell out of me, you know”

You try to reach for her hand but miss by a mile. “Sorry. Love you”

Her expression softens, and she takes your hand, squeezing it gently. “Love you too. Just… don’t ever make me do this again, yeah?”

“No promises,” you mumble, already drifting back to sleep.

Leah stays by your side the entire time, even when the nurse comes in and politely asks her to stop squeaking her trainers against the floor.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso #woso x reader

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goodlucktai · 5 months ago

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9, raph and leo?

dialogue prompts

9. “I know, I know it hurts.”

When Raph was eight years old, the twins decided they needed their own bedrooms and, like with all other things they had ever decided, they made it everyone else’s problem. As a united front, the two of them had the capacity to wear down a squad of Navy Seals in a manner of days, let alone one overtired single father.

The campaign for separate bedrooms turned out to be a long con. Donnie had been denied an evil science laboratory by Splinter multiple times, on the grounds of it being dangerous, and Donnie being seven, and evil being bad. But a room of his own could be whatever he wanted, and he wanted a lab.

It took most of a week for Splinter to discover that the twins were still doubled up in the room that was ostensibly Leo’s while Donnie’s was being used for nefarious purposes, but by then Donnie had installed an electronic lock on the door that he built out of components gutted from old kitchen appliances and was fully ready to die on that hill.

While Pops and Donnie were locked in a contest of wills that would ultimately go in Donnie’s favor (because Splinter’s achilles heel back then—and even now—was that he thought little turtles at their most sulky and unreasonable were just adorable) Raphie had looked at Leo with a confused frown on his face.

“How come you went along with it, Lee? You didn’t even get your own room.”

Leo shrugged, bright gold eyes shining with interest as he watched his twin and his father argue back and forth. He was following it carefully, probably ready to join in if it looked like Donnie was going to lose—more engaged than he ever was playing video games or flipping through comics.

At the time, all Leo said was, “Just wanted to see if I could.”

Raph thought it was because he was a troublemaker, and he maintained that idea up until Mikey—intuitive beyond his years, even as a sweet little six year old—said he figured it was just that Leo’s head went as crazy fast as Donnie’s did, only in ways that didn’t involve breaking and building things.

A full decade later, Raph knows Mikey was right on the money. Looking back, he sees a kid who was wickedly smart and terribly understimulated. Leo didn’t create trouble for the heck of it, he just liked having problems to solve. He wanted conversations and tricks and puzzles, he needed hoops to jump through like dolphins did on TV, or else he’d get cranky and sneaky.

Their world became a much simpler, more peaceful place once Leo got his first phone and discovered an online chess app with a leaderboard.

All this to say, Leo has had a mind for strategy since before he could talk in full sentences. He’s a natural-born leader, and after the failed Krang invasion, he really stepped up and took it seriously. Raph is so proud of him he doesn’t have words big enough to contain the size and shape of it all. It isn’t as hard as he had imagined it would be to let go of the reins and give Leo the room he needs to shine.

Some days are better than others. For the most part, Leo says jump and his brothers don’t even ask how high, they just shoot for the rafters. Their teamwork is cohesive, as solid as it was when they initially realized their ninpo, and Raph thinks he’d feel sorry for the Shredder if that guy showed his face in their town again.

But there are also days like today, when Leo says something that Raph’s big brother meter pings as Leo being silly, stirring shit up for lack of better thing to do, and he doesn’t linger on it past that initial knee-jerk impression.

They’re working with a group of mutants out of Hell’s Kitchen, mutants who are walking the line between vigilantism and outright crime. They’re rough around the edges, but good-natured for the most part. The turtles kept bumping into that other group as they crisscrossed around the city until finally their leader, Old Hob, said, “Why don’t we just get on the same program instead of stepping on each other’s heels?” and a tentative partnership was formed.

It’s been a week since then, and in that time Raph and his brothers have been firmly adopted by the grown-up mutants, who ask pointed questions about what time they went to bed the night before and whether or not they had a decent breakfast and how their online classes are going.

“This must be what having overbearing aunties is like,” Donnie said to April on the phone none-too-quietly, and Sally, feline mutant and aforementioned overbearing auntie, knocked her knuckles on his battleshell reprovingly. But that about summed it up.

There was one spanner in the works, and that was Liam.

——

“Anyone else getting bad vibes from that guy by the way?” Leo says one day.

There’s something performative about it, his usual pomp and charisma with a plastic edge. Mikey tilts his head like a service dog who just caught the scent of a potential medical emergency. Donnie looks up from his phone, eyes keen the way they only are when he and his twin are about to communicate with the telepathy they’ll deny they have.

But Raph is having a bad pain day, and his well of patience for shenanigans is much shallower than it normally is.

“Leon, don’t start,” he says, rubbing the slider’s head playfully to take any sting out of the dismissal. “If I have to put up with any middle child nonsense today I’m gonna scream.”

There’s a beat, his second-youngest brother visibly hesitating on a mental fork in the road. He’s gotten so good about being forthcoming but his first impulse is still to play along, deny, conceal-don’t-feel. He still has this idea in his head of what a good leader is supposed to be, and he’s still willing to whittle parts of himself away that don’t fit that mold.

To his credit, Leo tries again. “I don’t like him,” he says with less certainty.

“You don’t have to be best friends with the guy,” Raph replies. There’s enough warning in his tone that Leo knows to drop it. “Just get along until we go home.”

He works his shoulder, trying to do something about the solid ache it’s become, and Leo’s eyes drop to the mass of scarring there and then flit away. He starts to outline the route their patrol is going to take, reaching into his belt bag for the jar of Tiger Balm he’s taken to carrying with him and handing it over to Raph as he talks.

Raph smiles, the warmth in his chest ballooning up to swallow the impending impatience and annoyance brought out by pain. That warmth stays with him through their whole run, even as Donnie video-calls April and deadpans “POV you’re tailing some guy who didn’t get the memo that armed robbery is cringe as hell,” even as Mikey goes out of his way to jump and tumble off a fire escape in time to give Mondo a high-five as he skates by in the opposite direction, even as Leo progressively gets quieter the closer they get to their two AM check-in at the Mutanimals’ railyard base.

Looking back, Raph can count all the red flags he missed and hates himself a little more for each one. Leo sometimes causes problems for fun, and he likes to see what trouble he can get away with or get himself out of, and he is a downright menace to society when he’s bored—but he’s good. He’s sweet, and charming, and wants to help. He wouldn’t have raised an issue with the other group of mutants, potentially cutting ties with useful allies, unless he had a decent reason to.

And that reason, Raph discovers that night—after information has been exchanged and all that's left is to hang out at the base watching TV and playing table tennis until Splinter inevitably texts to remind his sons of their curfew—is Liam.

He doubles back into the meeting room where he left his phone and sees the goose mutant has put himself between Leo and the only exit, head lowered on a serpentine neck, beak open to show a flash of sharp teeth in a display that Raph’s animal hindbrain reads clearly as threat.

His grip on the doorframe causes it to crack.

“Leo,” he says in a voice he doesn’t recognize.

His little brother’s head jerks up, half-hopeful, half-disbelieving. Later, Raph will hate himself for putting even a sliver of doubt in Leo’s mind, for unknowingly invalidating his feelings. Leo should never be surprised that his big brother showed up for him. He should never have been left to fend for himself in a situation that made him uncomfortable, especially after he found the courage to be upfront about it.

“C’mere,” Raph says, lifting an arm—a little turtle’s cue to tuck themselves safely against Raph’s side.

Whatever his expression is doing, it’s caused dead silence to blanket the room like a foot of packed snow. Liam looks markedly unhappy to see Raphael standing there, but Leo runs to meet him.

A strategist, a faceman, a leader, and barely seventeen years old.

“We were just talking,” Liam says with a lightness that rings as false.

“Next time I find out you and my brother were just talking, I’ll wring your skinny neck,” Raph replies, matching his tone. Liam may be twice Raph’s age, but he’s half Raph’s size, and Raph has gone head-to-head with the Krang general and the Shredder and walked it off each time. Raph is fully prepared, in this moment, to murder this fucking goose.

Leo taps on Raph’s carapace, just as one of his violent inner voices is lifting its head in the back of his brain and considering making an appearance. On Leo’s end, a warning that someone else is coming from down the hall. On Raph’s end, a reminder that his first priority is the one he’s holding.

He turns, keeping Leo beside him, in time to see Hob appear around the corner. The cat mutant stops dead in his tracks, slitted eyes moving from Raph, down to Leo, to the doorway beside them, and back again.

“Problem?”

“We’re going home,” Raph says, a rumble in his voice he wouldn’t know how to temper even if he wanted to. “And we’re not coming back. Don’t call us unless someone’s dying or there’s another alien invasion.”

“Knock on wood,” Leo mumbles near-silently.

Old Hob doesn’t answer right away. It’s impossible to tell what the older mutant is thinking on a good day, outwardly recalcitrant and unfriendly, even though he has never snapped at Mikey’s cheerful rambling or Leo’s wheedling attempts to goad him into yet another chess match or even Donnie’s accidental ninpo-related shortage of every appliance in the Mutanimals’ kitchen. He and Sally and Ray and Herman all go out of their way to make their base comfortable and accessible to the turtles and Mondo and Pete, like it really matters to them that the younger mutants have a safe place tucked away that they can fall back on.

And Raph had appreciated that, up until now. Up until they proved it wasn’t safe, actually. Up until he’d seen a grown man leering meanly at his baby brother, just because he thought he could keep getting away with it.

When Hob does speak, all he says is, “Get home safe, boys.”

Raph shoulders around him, and collects Donnie and Mikey from the main room immediately. Mikey says, “Woah, are you guys okay?” and Donnie shoots a poisonous look behind them, like if he glares hard enough he can see back in time to what happened to put those expressions on Leo and Raph’s faces.

“We’re peachy, Miguelito,” Leo says, disquietingly convincing. “Just had a difference of opinion with our hosts is all.”

“Stay out of Hell’s Kitchen from now on until I say so,” Raph adds sternly.

Raph tells dad about Liam when they get home, because there is no universe where that doesn’t happen, and Leo immediately gets hauled into Splinter’s room for what sounds like a very serious conversation. Raph, Donnie and Mikey cluster shamelessly outside the door to eavesdrop, and some frightened thing in Raph’s heart lets out the breath it’s been holding when Leo says, “Nothing happened, papa, I promise. He was just weird.”

“Let him be weird to my Baby Blue one more time and I will show him exactly why your father was the undisputed Battle Nexus champion,” Splinter says. He cups Leo’s face and rubs his thumb over a striped cheek, as if he’d like to keep his son right there where no one had the capacity to hurt him. “Thank you for telling us. I’m so proud of you. I will actually kill him if he looks at you again.”

Leonardo smiles brightly, daddy’s boy of the family and glutton for attention that he is, those leftover dregs of anxiety in his eyes finally melting away.

“I think we should let dad kill him,” Donnie announces, eyes icy, tone flat.

“Nah,” Mikey says, disingenuously cheerful. “Next time we run into Liam I’m setting him the fuck on fire!”

“Language,” Raph scolds by rote, but his heart isn’t in it.

He can’t get that scene he walked in on back at the railyard out of his head. He can’t help thinking what if something worse had happened because I didn’t listen?

It feels like there’s a ghost in his chest, rattling his heart. He’s haunted by the what if.

——

After dinner, Leo looks at Raph meaningfully and points at the infirmary. Doctor Leo’s orders supersede all others, 100% of the time, so Raphael sighs and surrenders his controller to Mikey’s grabby hands without bothering to make the token argument. He keeps driving Princess Peach off the track anyway.

“Have you been stretching?” Leo says, feeling along Raph’s upper arm, where the muscles are visibly knotted. Even his careful touch hurts—that whole side of his body is tender with pain. Raph can’t help but flinch when his shoulder spasms and Leo hisses. “Shit, sorry, I know, I know it hurts. God, Raphie, you gotta say something before it gets this bad. I’m not afraid to bench you, big guy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Raph says, amused by his little brother’s no-nonsense tone, warmed by the care Leo always takes with his family when they’re sitting in his infirmary and putting their hurts in his hands.

There’s nothing performative about him here. It’s just Leo, stripped of every false layer.

“Let’s try to massage it out,” Leo says, all his attention bent to the task. “Then we’ll apply heat.”

Raph hums, watching him work. His arm radiates pain, and he has to grit his teeth as Leo goes to work on the knots and the ache flares close to unbearable and wanes to a dull throb and then flares again.

“Hey,” Raph says before he can overthink it any more. “What would you have done if I didn’t see you and Liam?”

Leo pauses, but only for a split-second. He’s as good as cornered here, because there’s no way he’ll leave Raph when he’s in pain, and there’s nowhere to hide. Thankfully for Raph’s sanity, he doesn’t try to pretend he doesn’t know what they’re talking about, even if he takes a long moment to finally answer.

“Would’ve made Angie make me a Portal Promise to never be alone with him,” Leo admits. Flushing slightly, he mumbles, “It’s, uh, a thing we do—we both make portals, you know, so—it just means we have to keep that promise no matter what happens or what rules we have to break, and we won’t get in trouble later as long as we’re honest.”

Raph’s heart hurts. His little brothers are so sweet, and people exist in the world who would hurt them, and he has no idea how to reconcile that. He hates that both things could be true at the same time.

“Tello doesn’t need to be encouraged to stay away from people, and I’m pretty sure he can read my mind? But I would’ve told him anyway,” Leo goes on. “I tell him everything. I’d try to word it so he didn’t get angry enough to do something drastic, like, cut the brake lines on Liam’s Toyota Corolla. And I’d have to make it sound like you and I were on the same page, otherwise he’d go to you about it, and you’d—uh, be annoyed that I didn’t drop it, I guess.”

Getting impaled by the Krang hurt less than this, Raph thinks. He feels sick.

“Leo—”

“I know,” Leo says quickly, a little too loud. “I know that I don’t always take stuff seriously. It’s not your fault for thinking—you know. You didn’t do anything wrong, Raphie. I just gotta grow up.”

This kid, who—like the rest of them—has already matured well past his age, well before he should have had to. Who’s terrified of letting his family down, who has so much he thinks he needs to live up to. Any perceived failure weighs on him like the death penalty, and Raph knows he had a hand in that.

He needs to listen. Even when he’s aching and short-tempered. Even when Leo is talking around something that scares him. Maybe especially then.

“Can we make a deal?” Raph says, reaching up to hold Leo’s hands still under one of his own. Leo is staring hard at Raph’s plastron and doesn’t seem willing to lift his eyes for love or money, but he jerks his head in a nod. “Next time I’m not hearing you, and it’s something serious like today was serious, tell me, and I’ll stop.”

Leo’s mouth twists a bit. If it were for anyone else’s sake, he’d get in Raph’s face and make himself heard no problemo, but it’s an entirely different story when it’s his own safety in question. That part of Leo that wants to always rely on his brothers is constantly at war with the part that believes he’s not supposed to need anyone’s help anymore.

It would be impossible for him to plant himself like a tree and refuse to be budged and demand Raph’s attention if he thought for one second that it would make Raph angry at him.

“What if we came up with a code word?” Raph offers, squeezing Leo’s hands. “If I’m being a stubborn punk, you can tell me the code word, and I’ll listen, and I won’t get mad. Even if it turns out to be a mistake or a misunderstanding. Okay?”

He finally gets a peek of gold as Leo dares to make eye contact. He looks embarrassed, like they’ve made a huge deal out of this for no good reason, and hiding inside his shell until everyone promises to pretend like nothing happened is looking more tempting by the second.

But he’s Leo, their fearless leader. He stared down that portal into the prison dimension without flinching. If he can do that, he can do anything.

“What word?” he finally says.

“You pick,” Raph tells him.

A smile creeps onto Leo’s face, picking its way carefully across shaky ground.

“‘Goose’,” he suggests.

"‘Goose’ it is," Raph replies firmly, committing it to memory.

He lifts his good arm and drags his little brother into a solid hug, ignoring the twinge in his back and side. Leonardo scrambles to return the embrace, shoving his face against Raph’s unscarred shoulder and clinging for all he’s worth. Which is a lot. He’s worth so much.

Later, when Raph’s got the electric heating pad on his arm and he and Leo are watching TikTok compilations to pass the time, Mikey comes through the infirmary door at top speed, waving his phone above his head like a maniac.

“Look what Mondo sent me!” he shouts at full volume. “I put it in the group chat!”

The video shared in the Mad Dogz chat shows Liam being kicked out of the railyard, his bags tossed into the road. Sally is going off at him at the top of her lungs, and Hob is standing by with his arms folded like he’s fully ready to let her maul the guy, and the rest of the grown-up mutants are making it pretty clear with their body language that the goose isn’t welcome anymore.

“Dunno what they saw on the security cam, but they effin’ hated it,” Mondo says in the recording, unbothered by the absolute chaos unfolding in front of him. “Good riddance, Liam sucks. Oh, Mikester, Hob wants to know if you guys’ll be back in the Kitchen for Herman’s D&D oneshot on Saturday so he knows how much food to order. He said you should bring your dad around this time—as if we need another boring old man in the group, ugh. Anyway, let me know and I’ll pass it along, dude!”

A weight Raph hadn’t even realized he was still carrying melts off his shoulders. Leo huffs under his breath, a disbelieving little laugh.

“Can we go, Raphie?” Mikey asks with wide eyes. “Don worked so hard on all our character sheets. He even 3D-printed custom figurines.”

“My bard is going to carry this team,” Donnie says loudly from the next room, because he’s never met a private conversation he wouldn’t shamelessly listen in on.

It’s so important to the Mutanimals that their young friends feel safe with them, and here’s proof of that in Mikey’s hands. Raph doesn’t fully understand why they care, but he’s grateful that they do. It didn’t hit him until now how much it hurt to have the railyard taken away—and how relieved he is that they can go back, after all.

He squeezes the arm he still has around Leo’s shoulders, prompting his brother to look up at him.

“What do you say, Fearless?” he says warmly. “Your call.”

Raph’s listening this time.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #hamato raphael #hamato leonardo #a team #my writing #tmnt fic #prompt #magicalspacedragon #this kind of went all over the place but im super out of it tonight unforch :(

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leehama · 1 month ago

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Hi, I love reading And Another Lovely Day a lot and loved seeing the behind the scenes and extras in the recent update! I wanted to ask what inspired you to write it? There’s not a lot of stories with a-spec characters as leads so I was wondering what prompted you to write a story like this.

Hi there! tbh, I've avoided answering this question because AALD was one of those stories that changed so much from its initial idea and has roots in multiple other stories of mine so it's hard to explain/trace! This is going to be long, but I think it went something like:

I was considering making the main character of another story of mine aroace, but even though it made her more interesting, suddenly removing the romance plotline threw off the the motivations/characterizations/storylines of other characters, so I decided against it--but now I had this aspec character concept floating around in the back of my mind

For another story of mine I wanted to make the MCs editors at a romance comic publisher, but it was getting to be a little too much about them being editors/working on comics than their romance/silly hijinks, so I paused developing it--but now I liked that setting

And eventually the two concepts converged: I liked the juxtaposition of aspec leads who had jobs producing love stories because it felt very romcom (there are lots of romcoms about romance writers whose own love lives are lacking, right?). And when the term "non rom-com" popped into my head, I latched onto it!

Initially, Nora and Elliot were romance comic publisher employees who bonded over a common interest in food--but it felt like it overlapped a bit too much with Gourmet Hound (and in terms of exploring sexuality and food, series like She Loves to Cook, And She Loves to Eat and What Did You Eat Yesterday? do it better than I ever could)

(Nora was the editor for Grier's comic series, while Elliot was in the advertising department alongside Isaac--they'd be forced to work together when Elliot was assigned to an ad campaign for Grier's comic) (Their meet-cute was the two of them agreeing to share a Valentine's couple's special at a cafe across the street from their office)

So instead of comic publisher employees who connect over their love of food, they became teachers who connect over their love of comics! I went through a lot of iterations of possible jobs and interests, but this combination felt the most approachable to me (also I had a ton of school-related assets laying around from the magical-girl-becomes-high-school-teacher project that never came to be lol)

So I didn't really set off to write a story about aromanticism or asexuality, nor to write a story with aspec leads. But also, in general, I can't really write from a place of "I want to provide xyz representation" or "I want to make this story relatable for xyz type of person"--because I'm not a skilled enough writer to do that without readers being able to immediately pick up on it lmao (and I feel like a lot of readers balk against stories that are too transparently or clumsily attempting to teach them lessons/model good behavior/be relatable!)

#ask #SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG #and another lovely day

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wooahaes · 9 months ago

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party hats & kitty cats

pairing: non-idol!lee know x fem!reader

genre: fluff. established relationship au.

warnings: food. one-off line about having kids in the future. discussion of expanding the family via adopting a new cat.

word count: 1.3k~

daisy's notes: oh to adopt a cat w lino....

Minho shifted next to you, causing you to lift your head off of his shoulder. “Hold on,” he said, voice soft as could be so as to not disturb you (or, more likely, the cats asleep around you). “Keep your head held up.”

Which was what prompted you to open your eyes right as a string fell snugly against the underside of your chin. Minho pushed it back so it would sit more comfortably, continuing to manipulate the party hat on your head until it looked right. That was when you realized he was wearing one, too.

“What?”

You’d been drifting off a little too much despite the carnage going on the screen (the powers of a bad horror movie, for sure), halfway to dreamland when he moved. The first time, you hadn’t had to move too much—assuming that Minho had just been reaching for his drink. The second time, you thought he’d been putting it back. And now he was just watching you with this playful look in his eyes, proud at his own silly little joke.

“Pretty,” he mused aloud. Then he leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss against your lips before getting up for real this time. The action earned a curious ‘mrrp?’ from Doongie, who had been sleeping at your feet until now, and Minho looked at him. “Doong-doong-ah, just stay there.”

Doongie promptly hopped down off of the couch to follow him instead, cat DNA requiring that he not follow orders from anyone but himself. You just relaxed against the couch, reaching a hand up to pet Soonie where he’d curled up to sleep. He raised his head lazily, purring once you began to scratch underneath his chin. Dori had popped his head up from where he’d been batting around a little mouse toy, watching Minho carefully as he moved about the kitchen with Doongie at his heels. You just found yourself smiling at the scene. Sometimes you joked that Minho fell in love with you once you met his cats and began to adore them almost as much as he does, but sometimes you truly think this relationship wouldn’t have lasted this long if you weren’t all-in on moving in with him and the three cats. You turned your attention back to Soonie for barely a second before you heard the click of a lighter.

And then a minute later, Minho began to sing to you. He made his way over, holding a small cake that was enough for the two of you. Doongie followed after him as he came back to you, all too curious and needing to know exactly what was going on in his home without him knowing ahead of time. Minho carefully lowered himself onto the couch next to you, holding up the cake for you.

“Did you make this?” You asked once he stopped singing.

He shook his head. “I was going to,” he said. “But I decided to focus on cooking dinner instead.”

Good, you thought to yourself. The dinner Minho had cooked for you was a little elaborate. The idea of him making you a cake and dinner, especially when the cake was decorated a little extravagantly, would have been too much. He’d pouted at you when you went the extra mile on his birthday considering how much you’d been working lately, gently chastising you when you were left exhausted after everything.

“I don’t need anything that special,” he’d told you while the two of you were laying in bed, his arms wrapped around you. “Your health is more important to me.”

You turned a little to look at him over your shoulder. “You didn’t like it…?”

“I loved it,” he kissed the side of your shoulder. “I always love the things you do for me. But…” His fingers grazed against the skin, exposed from where your shirt has ridden up. “I don’t want you to sacrifice your wellbeing for me. Okay?”

You had made him promise to do the same, something he’d easily done and sealed with a soft kiss before snuggling in for the night. Now he sat before you, the candlelight illuminating his face more than the television screen did.

“Make a wish already,” he’d lightly teased. “You can stare at me later.”

With a roll of your eyes, you turned your attention to the lit candles. For a moment, you debated on what to wish for before settling on something achievable, hopefully. You shut your eyes, blowing out the candles before the smell of smoke immediately greeted you. When you opened your eyes, Minho had reached for one of the forks he’d casually left on the coffee table earlier. You’d assumed at the time that he simply brought too many and would return it to its drawer later, but of course he was a step ahead of you.

“So?” He pushed the fork into the cake, apparently intent on feeding you the first bite before he’d pass the fork to you. He held it up. “What did you wish for?”

“I thought telling you meant it wouldn’t come true?” You teased before closing your lips around the fork, sweet vanilla buttercream bursting over your taste buds as you enjoyed the first bite of your cake. This had to be the same bakery you ordered his birthday cake from last year. Their vanilla buttercream had a certain quality to it that you could never put your finger on (Felix would know, though: he’d complimented it at Minho’s party).

“Is it something I can do?” He asked. When you played up your debate before nodding, he rolled his eyes, scooping up another bite of cake for you. “Then tell me.”

“I was thinking…” You went to take the fork, only for Minho to pull it away from you. A hostage situation, apparently. Unfair. “We could maybe expand the family a little?”

He gave you the most confused look in response. “You said you didn’t want to have kids until later on—”

“Not kids,” you said. “Maybe… We could get another kitten?”

Minho nodded along to the question, thinking it over. He pushed the fork back toward you, purposefully not letting go. You decided to oblige once more as you ate the bite of cake. “We’d have to see about fostering first,” he said, already figuring out the reality of adopting a new kitten when you already had three rambunctious cats around. “Find a space that the others can’t get to while we introduce them to each other…”

Finally victorious in stealing the fork from him, you pushed it through the cake and held out a bite to him. The two of you had shared enough at this point anyway. “So we’ll look into it?”

He nodded. “I think we could. It’ll mean more work looking after them, but I think we could handle it.” He looked at Soonie, reaching up to scratch him between the ears. “Although if the cats don’t respond well, I don’t know if we could go through with it…” He hummed to himself for a moment, thinking harder about it. “Maybe a girl? It doesn’t matter either way, but maybe it’d be nice to have a girl cat around. We’d have to find one spayed or get her spayed when she’s older—”

“Minho.”

He immediately turned back to look at you, realizing how lost he’d grown in kitten adoption thoughts. His gaze flickered back to the fork in front of him, and he smiled at you for a minute before leaning forward to accept the bite. “Thank you,” he said after swallowing. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you giggled. “It’s cute that you care so much.”

He lowered the cake he’d been balancing on one hand, carefully leaning over it so that he could kiss you. When he drew back, his eyes were all twinkly, so obviously giddy over the prospect of a new cat. Or maybe that was just the way Minho looked when he looked at you. His friends told you once that Minho adored you completely, and it was evident when they saw the way he looked at you.

“Happy birthday,” he said for the final time that night. “I love you so much.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @jinnie-ret @cheesemonky

#wooahaes.fic #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagine #skz imagine #stray kids x you #skz x you #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know x y/n #lee know fluff #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x you #lee minho fluff #lee minho x reader #wooahaes.24

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rachelsfav-queer · 4 months ago

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Addams Family & Enid

Morticia: *caressing Enid’s face* Oh, dear little wolf. Look at you, you poor thing. You’ve been neglected by the ones who should’ve loved you unconditionally. By the gods, I can think of nothing more truly evil than a mother that isn’t even capable of loving her own child.

Gomez: *one hand to his heart, determined* Dear pequeña loba, we swear to you, upon our very Addams blood, that you will be safe and you will be loved here, with us.

Morticia: We Addamses protect our own, ruthlessly. And our darling little stormcloud has chosen you as hers. I hope you know how dreadfully special that is. Like my dear Gomez said, you are loved here.

Enid: *crying and sniffing* Th- thank you, Mr. & Mrs. Addams! Thank you!

*Hours Later, in Wednesday’s Bedroom*

Enid: Gosh, Willa. Your family is really so… wonderful and so kind. They’re really really special.

Wednesday: *smiling softly* As I told you, mi loba, they would accept you in a heartbeat. They love you simply because I love you. To them, you are already an Addams.

Enid: *crying again* Shit, you’re so special too, Willa. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. I love you, Wednesday. *kisses her*

Wednesday: I love you too, Enid. *kisses her back*

(Day 28, Prompt 28 of Wenclair-Tober. I was gonna do something silly where like, Enid shows off that she’s just as unhinged as the rest of the Addams Family, but I instead decided to recreate an old post of mine. I thought this was too special and cute to pass up, so I decided to do it. Maybe I’ll do my other idea as well, but we’ll see lol)

#wenclairtober #wenclair #wednesday x enid #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #enid x wednesday #morticia and gomez #morticia addams #gomez addams #wenclair prompts #writing prompts #october writing challenge #wednesday netflix #wednesday series #the addams family #my writing

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midnight-mourning · 2 months ago

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Christmas Spirit

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 12❄️❄️

woof, now we're REAL behind chat, apologies was busy but also like, feeling unwell, but here we are! hope you enjoy :)

Prompt: christmas request! Reader doesn't care for christmas since their relationship with their family isnt great and nearly ever christmas since they moved out included multiple fights or screaming matches; they just want to have a positive association with christmas and don't mind working on a holiday at their crazy but chill job with their favorite animatronic coworkers. And these fellow coworkers intend to make sure this christmas is a postive one even if theres silly mishaps here and there.

Word Count: 2048

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

When you realized the date this morning, to say your heart sunk into your chest was an understatement. Sure, maybe it was a bit dramatic to go from chipper and ready for the day, to dragging your feet out the door, but to be fair, this wasn't exactly your favorite time of year. So, you think you had a little bit of a pass.

Though, as you slam open the door to the Daycare just a tad too harshly, spooking Sun whilst he was mid-decorating, you cringe. Maybe not too much of a pass.

He shakes it off, however, bounding over to you as happily as ever. "Good morning Sunshine! And how are we today?"

You decide to brush off your mistake. Based on the current state of things, he's very excited about the coming holiday, and you'd hate to ruin that for him.

"I'm doing well, Sunny. And what about you? The place looks great!" You motion to how already, the Daycare is already well on its way to being totally decorated. It's impressive, to say the least. You left less than 24 hours ago, though he probably has a lot more time on his hands than you.

He puts a hand to his faceplate, waving the other bashfully. "Oh, we're just getting started! Would you like to help?"

"Ah, I don't want to um, get in your way at all." Not to mention even the idea of touching a decoration makes you want to fling it across the room. Despite how ridiculous a notion that is. You shake your head. "I'll just get stuff set up for the day as usual!"

Sun hesitates a moment, rays shrinking. "Oh, okay then! Well, if you change your mind, just let me know! Always happy to have your touch with these things."

You're too distracted by your own discomfort to acknowledge the compliment. Instead only offering a quick nod and a smile as you march over to the craft station and start preparing.

You'd hope that would be the end of things, but you weren't so lucky. All throughout the day, both sides of the Attendant seem to be ever curious about your thoughts on different holiday plans they have, asking your opinion on this or that. Whether they realize it or not, you can feel your weariness about the topic growing worse, and paitence wearing thin.

It was only a matter of time before you cracked, and it happens at probably the worst moment to do so; puppet time.

Sun decided to put on a Christmas themed show—of course—and had all but insisted for your help. Again, not wanting to cause issues, you agree. However, it's easier said than done.

"—And we all just enjoy the holidays so much, don't we friend?" Sun asks, ever in character with his hand puppet.

You chuckle, awkward. "We sure do!"

"What's your favorite part of the season?" His little character does a spin on the mini stage. "Mine is making cookies, oh oh! And playing out in the snow, and wrapping presents for my friends!"

For some reason the question—which should have been expected—throws you for a loop. "Oh, well, I don't really have anything in particular. But I'd love to hear more about your favorite activities!"

"Oh come on, everyone has something that's their favorite." He presses, unintentionally pushing your buttons.

At that moment all you can think about is all the years of arguing, fights, yelling. Family members bickering about things that don't matter, and yet, won't talk to each other for weeks afterward because of some minor slip of the tongue. Feelings of being isolated, alone, and utterly miserable creep in.

You can't help the words that slip out then. "Well, some of us don't like Christmas very much at all!" You say, voice over the top with fake cheer.

Sun seems to take the hint then and thankfully, recovers the show from there. You're a bit embarrassed to need the save. You didn't think you'd lose your composure over a silly puppet show, but apparently, you were wrong.

It's when you're packing things up to get ready for naptime that Sun broaches the topic once more.

"You, you don't like Christmas, Starshine?" Sun asks, voice soft.

You take a deep breath, then shake your head. "I, no, not really. No." You see Sun's rays shrink, and put your puppet-free hand up. "But it's okay! Really don't let me bum you out any. I'm sorry I lost my cool for a moment there. It won't, won't happen again."

Before you can speak on it any further, you turn away, heading to start getting naptime mats out and such. Had you not, you would have seen Sun's hand reaching out for you, concern and care clearly evident on his features.

After that little incident, neither Attendant talks to you about the holiday in detail again. You still discuss activities as usual, but they don't ask specifics of you anymore. You're relieved, but you do feel bad. You hope to make it up to them by having an easy day of work on Christmas itself.

Get some organization done, clean up some things that you've been putting off, that kind of thing. Hell, maybe you'll even tolerate some holiday music while you work too.

When you walk inside bright and early on Christmas morning however, Sun nearly jumps out of his skin upon seeing you. At least, you think he would have if he did have skin, that is.

"Sunbeam! Wha—what are you doing here today?" He rushes over to you.

You smile and start taking off your coat. "I work today, Sun. Obviously."

After removing your hat and scarf, you grab your apron, brushing it off once or twice before clapping. "So, I was thinking we tackle the craft closet first and foremost, and then go from there with all our usual stuff, that sound good?"

When he doesn't answer you turn, only to jump when you realize he's right behind you, rays flicking side to side. He takes hold of your shoulders and bends to your level.

"Starshine."

"Sun." You nod.

His grip tightens for a moment, then loosens. He narrows his eyes. "We, are not. Working. On. Christmas."

"Well I'm already here—"

He shakes his head, picking you up suddenly. "Nope. Absolutely not. I won't allow it. If you're going to be here then we're going to make this right."

"Hey! Put me down! Where are you even taking me?" You kick your legs in vein, now slightly annoyed. Before you thought he was just joking, but now you realize he's dead serious.

You get your answer when he sets you down in a bean bag. Taking a moment to snatch up a blanket with one hand and untie your apron with the other. Before you can blink, the blanket is laid across you, you have several Christmas themed stuffed animals surrounding you, there's a set of antlers on your head, along with a coloring book in your lap.

Sun nods once down at you, hands on his hips. "Now, you get started on that and I'll get you some hot coco. Okay?"

"What, but—"

But he's already off again, "Don't move~ I'll be just a moment!"

Deciding that you're better off to indulge for a little bit, as opposed to outright protesting, you do as he asks. And, while not your favorite thing in the world, sitting and coloring in the peace of the Daycare, holiday music playing softly around you, is nice.

Sun's gone for longer than you would have expected. Especially for just a cup of premade hot chocolate. But, when he eventually returns you do take the time to thank him for the quick break, that you appreciate the thought, and that you're ready to actually get started for the day.

Surprisingly—suspiciously—he agrees.

You won't admit to longing for the warmth of the cozy nest you leave as you stand, but the longing isn't allowed to last for long. Sun's hand is tightly wound with yours as he leads you out of the Daycare and towards the theater.

You take a sip of your drink, confused but still following. "Um, did you want to start with the theater's supply closet then?"

"Friend, when I said no work on Christmas, I wasn't kidding." He stops just short of the entrance, energy now becoming more antsy.

He lets go of your hand and you frown. "I told you it's alright, Sunny. I don't mind, honestly."

"I know! We know, but,"—he shakes his head—"We want to, change that. Make it up to you! If, you'll let us?"

He's looking to you now. You're hesitant, of course you are, but you can at least hear him out. "Sure, bud."

"If you don't like it, that's okay too! We just, wanted to try." He turns slightly and starts to open the door.

You open your mouth to respond but are instead taken aback by how pretty the theater looks. There's warm lights strung across the ceiling, decorations of red and green that sparkle. A medium sized tree with decorations laying nearby sits near the middle of the room. Snowflakes in all intricate patterns litter the space. There's a video of a yule log playing on the screen, and music softly twinkles around you.

While not as intense as the Daycare in terms of the level of Christmas-vibes, there's something more, comforting, about it. Something maybe a bit more familiar, that unlocks a memory you'd left behind back when you were much smaller.

"When did you find the time for all of this?" You ask quietly. You'd been in here just yesterday and it looked nothing like this.

Sun comes up behind you, hand on your shoulder. "Just now. We just thought that maybe something a bit more relaxed, but still festive, could be fun for you? We can decorate the tree, or, or watch movies, or dance. Whatever you would like, honestly. Whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?" You look up to him, almost unable to speak.

He looks down to you and after a pause, wraps his arms around you with a nod. "No one should be sad during the holidays, Star. And it's, it's not our business why but, well, we just want to try and change that for a little bit. To try and make you a little happier."

The tears well up before you can stop them.

Sun starts panicking. "Oh! Don't cry. It's okay, we can just go back to the Daycare—"

"No, no it's okay, really." You sniff. Your reaches up to his faceplate, halting his fretting. "They're happy tears. I'm very grateful. And emotional."

He relaxes into your touch, but his tone is still concerned. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah I,"—you shake your head—"You know what? Let me just show you."

Without thinking further, you raise your other hand and pull his faceplate down to your lips. You release him again after a moment, giggling.

Sun's rays click, then—"Just to be sure, Moon would also like you to show him."

This causes you to laugh outright, and soon enough you're in the naptime attendant's arms instead.

You spend the rest of your day in higher spirits than you would have otherwise expected for the holiday. The attendant takes turns doing the various activities they planned with you. And maybe it's only because it's with them, or because of the new relationship you've found yourself in, but you find it all to be so much more bearable than before. More than bearable really, enjoyable. Truly and completely, enjoyable. For the first time in a long time.

"What are you thinking of, Star?" Moon asks as the two of you dance across the room.

You shake your head, smiling. "Just about how much I appreciate the two of you, is all."

"Just appreciate?"

You scoff. "I think you know by now it's more than that. Don't even think of trying to scam me out of more kisses."

He snickers in response.

Just the music for a moment.

"Thank you, guys. It means a lot."

Moon bends you for a dip, leaning in. "Merry Christmas, Starlight."

"Merry Christmas, Moon."

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Thank you for the request @pip-plz!! Was fun to take this and make something wholesome, esp as someone who hasn't always had a fun holiday experience myself, hope I did it some justice!

Masterpost link

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml

#i keep giving sun the spotlight in these smh #my sun bias be showing HARD fr fr #fnaf dca #dca fandom #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #sundrop #moondrop #dca fic #x reader #mm dca december #writing requests

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mochinomnoms · 1 year ago

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Hi hi friend,

If it is not too much trouble I would like to make a request for your event? I think I would like Floyd with prompt 14- “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!”

They/them for Yuu is fine with me, I was thinking romantic? Where maybe it's obvious to everyone but Yuu how requited their feelings are.

I've really liked reading your writing and hope you continue to have fun doing it (♡°▽°♡)

floyd leech x gn!reader [tags] – fluff, mutual pining [wc} – 3,659 prompt 14: “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!” note - hahahahahhahahahahaha i did not mean to write so much but i went a little buckwild and i think floyd deserves to be allowed to be soft sometimes a floral inconvenience

Lavender roses - Introduced in 1900, lavender roses represent love at first sight. They’re often given to someone to convey that the giver was immediately smitten and fell in love.

You’d decided to attend a karaoke event the Mostro Lounge was hosting to introduce the new spring menu. It was meant to be a nice, relaxing hangout with your friends from Heartslaybul as you listened to your friends attempt to show off their mediocre singing skills.

Ace was in an especially good mood, happy to tease you as you waved happily at Floyd, who’d returned your affections.

“Oi, oi, oiiiiiii, Prefect? When you gonna say something? Kinda tired of dealing with you puking petals every—OW!”

You snorted as Deuce smacked Ace upside the head, muttering about him being an asshole.

“Leave them alone Ace, unless you want to be collared for harassing a member of the student body?” Riddle reprimanded, giving Ace a harsh glare as he turned to you instead.

“You can ignore him, Prefect, you don’t have to say anything to that good-for-nothing merman! I’m sure you could do much better anyways.”

You chuckled, enjoying the soft banter between the group. It was particularly nice seeing Riddle interact more casually with his peers, even if you weren’t able to convince him to sing with you.

“Are you sure you do want to go up with me?” You pouted leaning in close to the red-headed housewarden. “I’ll even let you pick the song—”

“Out of the question.”

You sighed, resting against the plush cushions of the booth while Ace and Deuce bicker about which song would be better for a duet. This was nice.

It was nice, up until Floyd decided to take part in the festivities. Somehow he’d snuck behind you and Riddle, snatching up your friend with a gleeful cackle as he screeched.

“FLOYD! PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT—”

“Nah, it’s fine Goldfishie, I need ya for just a sec!”

Floyd placed Riddle in a seat, front and center at the stage, as he climbed up. The cool blue spotlight suited Floyd’s features as he grinned.

Picking up the mic from its stand, Floyd announced, “Alright! This song is for my favorite little fishie in the whole entire school, so you all better enjoy it!”

You expected him to start singing a silly pop song, one with high energy and beats. Or one that became a meme on Magicam last week, something about flamingos and turning pink.

Instead, the upbeat, suave tunes of a familiar song started playing. A familiar love song.

“Is…is this ABBA?”

“Who?” Cater asked, recording the scene with a stifling giggle as Riddle turned redder and redder in embarrassment (and most likely rage) as Floyd continued to serenade him.

“This is ‘Lay Your Love’ by BABA, a classic from the 80s—”

“No it’s called ABBA back home—wait, WHY IS FLOYD SINGING A LOVE SONG TO RIDDLE!?”

Your screech startled the surrounding tables, drawing attention that you were too jealous to focus on. Floyd made eye contact with you, hearing your yelling. Continuing to sing—quite nicely you’d hate to admit—the eel mer winked and smirked, drawing an ire that you didn’t know you had.

“What the hell? Floyd!” With the vindication of a scorned lover, you stomped to the stage and swiped the microphone from Floyd’s hands.

“Floyd, what are you doing?” you spoke into the mic, glaring daggers at the tall beanpole of an eel turned man, who looked unbothered at your angry presence.

Floyd took the mic back and answered, “I’m trying to win my mate back—DON’T GO WASTING—”

“What mate?” You yanked the mic back while Floyd followed suit, though this time you kept both hands on. It became a tugging match as you both tried speaking into the mic before the other took it back.

“Goldfishie.” You could hear Riddle scream at that.

“Riddle’s not your mate! I’m your mate—” You snapped your mouth shut, the mic feedback and your last words echoing through the lounge, mocking you.

Floyd had a large, smug grin on his face, his sharp teeth gleaming under the bright lights of the stage. You were now very aware of the packed lounge, and of the students spectating.

The mic was slowly pulled back to Floyd, who gleefully asked “Oh~ Say that again?”

“Nuh-uh.”

You shook your head furiously, trying to pull back in order to run off and curl into a hole from embarrassment. Floyd’s grip on the mic and your hands tightened, preventing your escape.

“That’s fiiine,” Floyd pulled out a small device from his pocket, lightly tapping it on the mic. “I have it riiiight ‘ere.”

Suddenly, a recording of your voice looped into the mic:

“I’m your mate—I’m your mate—I’m your mate—”

He recorded it.

“Oh my god…” You looked at Floyd in horror, who was still grinning ear to ear, like a cat that got the mouse.

“HehehehehehahahAHAHA!” Floyd’s giggle turned into a cackle as he launched at you, mic and recorder abandoned on the floor. Between the ear-splitting squeal of the mic hitting the ground and a 6’2” man tackling you, there was little time for you to defend yourself as your lips clashed, teeth clattering against one another from the brute force.

His long arms wrapped themselves tightly around your waist, dipping you down dramatically as he broke your kiss to instead leave wet kisses on your cheeks, nose, forehead, and every other piece of skin not covered by clothes.

Ace and Cater’s cackles could be heard amongst the now growing laughter, whistles, and jeers of the crowd. You think you could even make out someone yelling at your two to get a room.

“—off the stage! Get off the stage, both of you!”

Ah, it was Azul. Who was stomping over the shoo you both off the stage, giving Floyd a particularly harsh whack on the head with his staff.

“Ow, fuck that hurt!” Floyd whined, scooping you up with his left hand and cradling you to his chest. “Cool it Azul, don’t harsh my vibe—”

“I don’t care! Go make out in your room! This is a lounge not a brothel!”

“Fiiiiiine,” Floyd adjusted his grip to instead throw you over his shoulder, amused by how limp you’d gone in his grasp. “Come on Shrimpy! I got something fun in mind~”

His sentence and teasing tone made you flush, images of you and him in bed flashing through your mind.

“W-wait, Floyd, what are we gonna do?”

“You’ll see, ahahahehe!” Floyd’s giggled echoed through the hallway as he quickened his pace. It was only a few minutes before you realized that you two had made it to the dormitory halls.

Floyd kicked open his door, the hinges squeaking from the force. He marched over to his bed, grabbing at your waist to no doubt throw you on it before pausing.

“Oh yeah.” Like a sudden realization hitting him, Floyd grabbed the corner of his bedsheets and shook them, clothing, books, and crumbs no doubtedly flying off.

Once satisfied, Floyd hummed and once again grabbed your waist, this time committing to throwing you on the bed, which bounced under you.

“AaaAaaAAAah—FLOYD!” You yelped, face turning redder as Floyd caged you to the bed. He looked at you with a hungry expression, licking his lips at the sight of you.

“Wait-wait Floyd, gimme a sec—” you stammered, crawling backwards until your back hit the headboard. “—this is all very very sudden, I—wait!”

Floyd crawled after you, trapping you with his long arms, leaning down until his lips were lingering over yours. You shut your eyes in anticipation, waiting for his hands to grab at your clothes and tear them off.

A soft, tender meeting of the lips. Floyd pressed his mouth against yours, swiping his tongue into your mouth, to which you returned with flustered confusion. The kiss was with such gentleness that you had to open your eyes to confirm that it was indeed Floyd kissing you.

Olive and yellow eyes were closed, a blissful smile on his lips as he broke your kiss, instead pressing almost chaste pecks to your cheeks, down, your neck, and over your shirt where your heart was beating away.

Floyd pressed his right ear to your chest, listening to the increasingly rapid pounding against your rib cage. His arms moved from trapping you against the bed to trapping you against his body, wrapping around your back and tightening while his lanky legs tangled between yours.

You weren’t sure what to do with your own hands, once he had settled laying on you. Hesitantly, you reached to lace them through his hair, pushing the strands back to get a better view of his peaceful face. Admittedly, seeing Floyd in such a state, blissful and sweet, was beautiful.

His smile grew slightly as you combed through his hair, nuzzling his nose into your chest. Into your heart really.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” Floyd opened his yellow eye, gleaming at you in amusement. “I just wanted to cuddle, did ya have somethin’ else in mind? Haha!”

He moved to prop up his chin, smirking at you as he teased, “Didn’t think ya had sucha dirty mind, if you wanna ‘do it’, all you had to do was ask—”

You shoved his face back into your chest looking away in embarrassment, feeling his giggles vibrate through you.

“Shut up, ugh!” You pouted, grumbling, “You set me up! Ugh! How’d you even know that would work?”

“I heard you.”

“Huh?”

“Talkin’ to Lil Goldfishie,” Floyd moved so that instead of laying on top of you, he was curled into your side with his head nestled at the crook of your neck. “When you got the flower sickness.”

You looked at him with shock. That conversation with Riddle happened nearly three months ago in between classes.

Specifically, it happened a few weeks after winter break, when you were catching up Riddle to your “adventure” in Scarabia, after which small lavender roses started blooming along your freckles, their thorns scratching your skin.

“And then, he launched us waaaaaay into the desert!” You animatedly waved your arms around as you recounted your fiasco over winter break. “We were trapped, but then Kalim used his unique magic to fill a dry riverbed with water and then!”

Riddle raised a brow at you as you began gigging with a soft blush. “Jade and Floyd had to turn into their merforms, so me and Kalim had to hold on to his back, but when I wrapped my arms around his chest, and he held my hand to steady me! ”

Your friend rolled his eyes as you started to silently squealed in your seat, sighing.

“Are you going to finish? I have better things to do than listen to you babble about Floyd of all people. Honestly,” Riddle huffed, “I don’t understand what you see in that riffraff!”

“He’s not a riffraff!” You quipped, frowning as you crossed your arms. “He’s actually really sweet if you give him the time of day, Floyd just likes being able to have fun with others you know!”

“Even then, his mood swings don’t terrify you? He gets rather violent sometimes.” Riddle took a sip of his tea as you shook your head.

“No, I mean if you just go with the flow it’s fine, plus that just makes him more exciting to be around! Plus we’ve been getting closer ever since Azul’s overblot…”

You smiled softly as you looked down at your lap, fondness growing in your heart like blooms on a warm spring day.

“He can actually be quite sweet, once you get to know him…you just have to give him a chance.”

The two of you remained quiet, the only coming from the distant chatter of other students in the more populated areas of the guest lounge.

“I’m safe to assume then that he is the reason you’ve started sprouting the roses?”

Your soft pink blush deepened as you nodded, picking at the small flower that began blooming on your cheek.

“Yeah…”

“When will you confess, then?” You looked at Riddle in shock, who seemed confused at your distress. “What? It’s obvious that you have strong feelings for him, and even I notice how especially clingy he is around you.”

You shook your head, stuttering, “Well, yeah but that’s—”

“I’ve even heard him refer to you by name, he only does that with Jade and Azul you know?”

“You don’t understand Riddle.” You tried to interject, growing more flustered by the second. “I don’t think I could—”

Riddle continued, “As much as I disapprove, it does seem that you two genuinely bring out the best in each other, he does seem softer when you’re around—”

“Oh my—Riddle, stop—”

“—And you’ve gotten more outspoken, I remember how shy you were—”

“I’m begging you—”

“—Besides, according to the Queen of Heart’s rule number 478, any romantic feelings must be confessed approximately 12 days upon their discovery or the individual in question obligated to deny—”

“I said stop, Riddle!” You yelled at the top of your lungs before choking on rather large bouquet of lavender roses. Leaves and petals fluttered all around you as you continued to let out rough coughs, phlegm and saliva making a mess.

Your yell startled the red-head so much that he simply started at you with a red face and thinned lips, too shocked to properly yell back at you for raising your voice indoors.

Instead, he carefully placed his tea cup on the table between you two, folded his hands in his lap, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. You on the other hand, peaked around the dividers separating your nook from the rest of the lounge.

Ace and Deuce looked over in concern as you continued to cough out more roses, walking over before you shook your head and gave them a thumbs up before shooing them away and turning back to Riddle.

“...sorry Riddle.” You whispered, looking at him nervously. “I didn’t mean to yell, don’t be mad?”

“It’s…fine.” He replied with a strained voice, taking a final inhale before opening his eyes again and making eye contact. “You shouldn’t have yelled, and I shouldn’t have pushed.”

Riddle sighed, relaxing into the soft lounge chair. Though he would deny when asked, the chair that he helped you pick for the guest room was is favorite spot to sit in, as it surprising comfortable.

“May I ask why you refused? It’s quite obvious to anyone that you care for him immensely, for some forsaken reason, and I would even say it’s quite mutual.”

You avoided eye contact as he resumes sipping from his tea, a lemon tea with 2 sugar cubes for his post meal tea.

“Yeah…that’s what the other first-years say too. Even Jade’s been dropping hints on mer courtship gifts.”

“Then? What’s stopping you?

A pregnant pause was in the air as you open and closed your mouth, attempting to figure out what it was that scared you.

“What if…he gets bored?”

Riddle furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned in, barely able to hear you.

“What if he what?” He sighed, a bit irritated. “Speak up Prefect, I know you can, you just did earlier.”

You groaned out, “What if he gets bored with me? I’m fun and interesting now, yeah!”

Your friend watched, and you began pacing around the room, holding his head in his hand as he watched and listened to you vent.

“I’m just a silly little magicless human that got transported from another world! Big whoop! What happens when that novelty wears off? You've heard him, he only likes to do things that are fun and interesting to him, but I won’t always be fun and interesting, eventually he’ll get used to me and get bored.”

You turned to look at Riddle with a teary-eyed, but firm look. “He’s get bored and leave me. I can’t handle that! So I just won’t be with him. In fact, I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for him!”

Your voice began to crack as you stated your final sentence, snapping your mouth shut before you got begun crying. Riddle stood up and walked over to grasp your shoulders, looking at you with an understanding smile.

“The sort of person that would abandon a lover simply because they’re bored never deserved one in the first place.”

Riddle hummed in agreement as you sqeaked out a ‘really?’, giving you a soft pat on your shoulder.

“Of course, I can’t say I don’t understand your hesitance, Floyd is…Floyd, after all. However, he is not my friend, you are. If you choose to forfeit your right to confess, then so be it.”

You smiled as he dragged you back to your seats, giggling as he continued, “I personally would say it’s no lost on your part, he’s not exactly the most prime candidate for your life partner should you be stuck here in Twisted Wonderland, may I suggest one of the many more suitable providers?”

“Pfft-like who? You?” you cackled as Riddle looked at you in mild horror.

“Oh dear, of course not! I admire you as a friend, but I have much stricter standards for a partner.” He snapped his fingers in revelation. “Perhaps Ace or Deuce, you are rather close to them—”

“Ewwwww, pass. They’re like annoying brothers!”

Riddle snorted before covering it up with a cough. “True. Trey?”

“If you’re just going to suggest your dorm members, maybe we should switch the conversation to something else.”

“Well I think my dorm produces only the best and most gentlemanly mages of all of NRC, so excuse me if I’m simply trying to give you the best options!”

You and Riddle shared some laughter, a flash of teal catching the corner of your eye. But you saw nothing, so instead you focused back on Riddle as he began recounting his own winter break activities.

You remained quiet as you processed your thoughts, finding the lilac ceiling to be particularly interesting.

Floyd also stayed quiet, still curled into your side as he breathed in your scent. You’re sure that with all of the flowers you’d started coughing up in the last few minutes, you smelled strongly of the lavender roses.

“You know…I was gettin’ real mad when you wouldn’t confess to me.” Floyd whined, propping his head up with his hand to look at you and your pink face.

“I thought it would be nice to get a cute confession out of my little shrimp,” He pinched your nose and forced you to look at him. “It be real fun! Like those cringy romcoms landfolk like so much!”

You replied, nasally due to your pinched nose, “Wait, is that why Jade was telling me about mer courting methods?”

“Haha! Yeah, I was hopin’ that you’d bring me a pretty seashell or somethin’ cute so Icould make fun of ya for later.”

You let out an indigent huff, smacking Floyd’s hand away as he laughed.

“Really? So what made you change your mind?”

“Hearing ya talk to Goldfishie. It pissed me off that you’d think I’d toss you out like humans at sea with their trash.”

Floyd’s tone changed, looking visibly annoyed as he continued.

“Mers mate for life, and I wouldn’t choose someone I’d get bored with.” He sat up as his mood continued to sour. “It pissed me off, and it hurt, that my Little Shrimpy would think about me like that.”

“Oh, Floyd,” you sat up with him, guilt seeping in your bones as you looked at his angry face. Though, with the small tears forming in his eyes, Floyd looked more frustrated than anything.

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t think—it didn’t occur to me that you felt the same—”

“Well I do, and it’s not fair to me that you wouldn’t even give me a chance.” The way Floyd said that so matter of factly made you snap your mouth shut again, looking down at your lap instead.

“I’m…sorry, Floyd. I wish I could make it up to you—”

Floyd interrupted, moody demeanor brightening suddenly. “No worries, I got just the solution!”

Crawling over back to you so that your back met the headboard again, Floyd grinned maliciously at your curled form.

“Say it.”

“Huh?”

“Say it. Those three little words.” Floyd held up three fingers to emphasize his point. “The ones that will make all those little flower go right away, the ones you need to say to me.”

You stiffened, leaning away from Floyd as he leaned in. “I don’t know if I can—”

“Say it, Y/N.” The use of your name startled your attention back to his face. He looked unusually serious, peering his heterochromic eyes into your own. If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve mistaken him for his twin.

You whispered, prolonging the inevitable, “What happened to Shrimpy?”

“Shrimpy was Shrimpy, but now your Y/N. And Y/N is Y/N…”

The two of you shared a smile as the distance between you two continued to close. You couldn’t remember what was so pressing earlier, why you were so anxious when the yellow eye of the man in front of you produced nothing but adoration from your heart.

“Please…” From the uncharacteristic soft murmur to the eyes darting down to your lips and back to your eyes, Floyd drew you back in with a hypnotic ease that only the most alluring of mythical creatures could even hope to imitate.

The two of you leaned in as you placed a hand on his chest, his own left hand coming to cradle your own.

You craned your head back to hover your lips under his, uttering the words you swore to never let leave your mouth.

“I-I…love you, Floyd Leech.”

A single lavender rose grew between your palms, as two longing hearts met as one.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst floyd #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #twst floyd x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #a floral inconvenience #big advocate for softie floyd leech #its what he deserves

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vixensbrainrotts · 1 year ago

Text

Ran fucked up

Summary: so you found out that Ran is sorta-kinda using you for information, money and material for Tenjiku and took revenge before the damage was too heavy. Come the time when Ran was supposed to display results, he has some explaining to do…

Tropes: Tenjiku! Arc

Content warnings: none really, this time around its just kinda cracky, implied intentional accidents i guess? Idk let me know if there’s anything

Vixen’s two cents: I saw that prompt and JUMPED on the opportunity cause i had a silly little idea (lets pretend im not writing this in my theory of evolution lecture right now). This is such a funny prompt to me, I hope you enjoy. Prompt taken from @the-cypress-grove - prompt 131 (thank youuuuu) Remember that my requests are open if you have any ideas!

Rindou has never seen his older brother this nervous- actually, this is the first time he’s seen him nervous, ever. The man in question was pacing (to the best of his efforts) restlessly, and it was driving Rin insane. „It‘s your fault, you know?“ Rindou quipped from where he was sitting. „And you’re not fucking helping. Izana is going to rip me apart, if i survive Kakucho that is.“ Ran mutters more to himself than to his brother.

Rolling his eyes, Rindou decides that he has to take control of the situation. „Come on Ran, its best to get it over with fast, perhaps they’ll pity you because of your… state right now.“ Rindou makes his way to the door, shrugging on a cardigan and taking the keys out of the little dish by the door. The look that Ran gives him almost ignites a little bit of pity in Rindou. Almost.

20 minutes later the two of them are standing in front of the place of meeting and Ran is sweating bullets. „Come on..“ Rindou drawled again. Offended, Ran throws him a look „You’re not the one who’s about to get mauled.“ Ran crows in slight pain, but Rindou spared no sympathy, „Your fault.“ Rindou was the first to enter the area donning the heavenly kings‘s presence. He silently greet his colleagues with a curt wave, but felt a little puzzled when he didn’t receive one in return. The confused looks on their faces were almost comedic before Rindou noticed the distinct lack of brother by his side.

Rindou heaved a sigh and half-turns to face the entrance again, gesturing to the door for the Heavenly Kings to see. „He‘s coming, don’t worry.“ He assured and trudged on towards his place.

„Sit down Haitani.“ a sharp voice pierced the air as Izana spoke. A shiver ran down Rindou‘s spine, and all of a sudden he understood his brother‘s fear: Izana was scary as such, and blatantly terrifying when disappointed. Quickly, Rindou took a seat beside Mochi. Silence reigned after that. Not a word was spoken, not a breath was taken whilst they waited for Ran to enter.

Finally the tension broke when Ran walked through the door, his head low and limping slightly. „Were ya roughed up or something?“ Shion was the first to speak. „Well..“ Ran sounded a bit defeated as his voice trailed off, remaining standing at a respectable distance. „You’re here. And late at that.“, Izana‘s voice freezes the air as he speaks, „I hope for your sake that your little project proves to be as useful as you made it sound.“ Ran tries very hard to look anywhere but the Kings, instead trying to make eye-contact with his brother, but Rindou only raises his hands slightly in surrender and shoots him a look that says you brought yourself into this mess, im not gonna help you on this one.

„Do tell Ran. How‘s your little girlfriend doing, hm? Are you treating her well? Is the good service paying off? She give you somethin‘ yet?“ Shion has the gall to poke at Ran, stacking questions on him in a singsong tone. Despite the almost joking nature of the questions, they hang heavy in the air.

„I don’t think she likes me all that much right now.“ Ran finally says.

„What makes you think that?“ Kakucho is the one to speak this time, noticing Izana's annoyance and grasping the reigns of the conversation. Whilst he sounds genuinely concerned, Kakucho‘s half-blind eye does nothing to make Ran feel more comfortable, as he visibly shrinks beneath his gaze.

„She founded out.“ Ran breaks the news in a whisper, and the air around them changes into something much more alive, and much more electric. „What.“ Kakucho‘s voice is loud in stark contrast.

„She hit me with her car.“ Ran shrinks even further into himself when the guys surrounding him laugh. „Clever Girl!“ Shion quips between heaves of laughter, bracing himself against an also-snickering-Mucho who adds „What if it was an accident?“. Ran only shakes his head, face and neck ablaze with red as he puffs himself up against the humiliation. „She looked me dead in the eye and reversed!“ Laughter bounces off the walls once again.

#x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #ran x reader #ran #ran haitani #ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani #tr rindou #tenjiku #tenjiku x reader #tr ran #tokyo rev x you #tokrev #tokyo manji revengers #tr content

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m1ckeyb3rry · 8 months ago

Note

Hello! Recently read your latest Rin piece and fell in love with your writing style :)

If you’re up for it, could I request childhood friends with Hiori? Sorry it’s a little vague, but I love the direction you’ve taken other pieces and wanted to leave the details up to you! My only suggestion on a detail would be maybe sprinkling in some light angst about his parents/backstory.

Thank you for considering!

Synopsis: You spend the years of your youth with Yo Hiori, in a field that’s almost lonely as the two of you.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Hiori x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.7k

Content Warnings: childhood friends, hiori is vaguely suicidal and also vaguely homicidal, uhh i feel like i know nothing about him as a character so popping that sexy little ooc warning in there jic, open ending, lots of #nature, almost the entire story takes place in a field so idk, hiori is like. madly in love w reader but he’s nonchalant abt it

A/N: thank you so much anon that means a lot!! cherry tree rin and y/n are so silly (<- affectionate) i’m glad you enjoyed that fic 💖 one thing about me i love a good childhood friends to lovers trope especially with angst…hiori is another character i haven’t written a ton for so i hope i interpreted him correctly and that you like what i decided to do with your prompt!! ty for requesting 🫶🏻

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

The field across from your house was melancholic and desolate, an acre or so of rolling green that bled into trees at the edges. Although by all rights it should’ve been considered a picturesque place, no amount of beauty could take away from the abandoned atmosphere which had long ago settled over the land.

According to your parents, there had been plans for a grand mansion to be built in that location, but before drafts for its construction could be drawn up, the owner had died. The son who had inherited it had no use for the plot, but neither could he be brought to sell the place of his father’s dreams, so the land had sat empty and unused for years upon years.

People thought the area was cursed, and the general consensus was that it ought to be avoided, but your parents did not believe in things like curses and bad luck and whatnot, so they told you it was fine if you wanted to play there. You were a lonely child, prone to wandering off on your own anyways, and you supposed they must’ve reasoned to themselves that it’d be easier if you were close enough that you could run home should something happen.

You would sit in the middle of the field, far from any prying eyes, and you’d admire the blooming plants beneath your feet. It was not just grass — there were a million and one varieties of things growing in that wild place, and you would run your fingers along their leaves, doing your best not to frighten the animals and insects which called that field their home.

They grew accustomed to you with time, and instead of shying away, they invited you into their own world. The squirrels and chipmunks would dash out from their trees to scuttle around your feet and splayed hands, while the dormice would peek out of their burrows without fear, nibbling on whatever seeds they had gathered before settling in for the day. The larks would warble to you, and if you were in a particularly cheery mood, you’d whistle back to them, trying to imitate their melodies but always falling a little short.

The third time you went to the field, you found that someone had arrived before you. For a moment, you thought that he must be a ghost, for he stood in such stark contrast to everything you had come to know that there was no other reasonable explanation for it. He was spindly and pale like a skeleton, and his shaggy hair and eyes were the color of winter, such an unnatural shade compared to the viridian he was surrounded by.

You were contemplating running away when he turned around, his eyes widening when he saw you. In his hands was a soccer ball, and resting on the soccer ball was a large white butterfly, its lazily flapping wings shimmering like a whisper in the sunlight.

You were both silent for a moment, a soft breeze rustling through the field and sounding like a song that urged you towards him despite your misgivings. Tentatively, he held the ball out towards you, but the motion startled the butterfly, which abruptly took to the air, fluttering away before either of you could react.

“Who are you?” you said.

“Yo Hiori,” he said. “Who are you?”

“Y/N L/N,” you said. “I live in the house across the street.”

“We’re neighbors, then,” he said. “My house is a few doors down from yours. Do you come here often?”

“Yes,” you said. “Do you?”

He shook his head ruefully. “This is the first time. My parents think I’m practicing soccer right now.”

“You shouldn’t do that here,” you said, frowning at the thought of him kicking up dirt and slamming a ball around carelessly through your sanctuary. “Go somewhere else if you want to play something so reckless.”

“I don’t,” he said. You furrowed your brow. “Don’t want to practice soccer, I mean.”

“I see,” you said. “Well, this is a good place to run to if that’s the case. No one will come looking for you here.”

“Is that the truth?” he said. “Really?”

“Really,” you said. “Everyone thinks it’s cursed, but in truth, I think that that just means it’s blessed.”

“Ah,” Hiori said. “But do you mind?”

“Do I mind what?” you said.

“If I keep coming here,” he said. “When I want to run away.”

“It doesn’t belong to me. I suppose you could say I belong to it, but that’s neither here nor there. No, I can’t stop you, so why would I mind?” you said.

“Are you some sort of woodland fairy?” he said. You laughed aloud.

“I wish. Are you a ghost?” you said. He shook his head.

“Nope,” he said.

“Then I guess our claims to this place are equal,” you said. “Anyways, as long as you don’t disturb it too much, I won’t be angry. I’ll do the same for you, don’t worry.”

“I don’t care what you do to it,” he said. “I just want to go somewhere that’s quiet and I can be left alone.”

This much you could understand, and you thought that perhaps Hiori would grow to be an exception to your loneliness, or an addition to it. Not a cure, because that did not exist, but a person who could relish in his own solitude and share in that inexplicable sensation which was your greatest joy.

You never saw him anywhere but in that field. You weren’t sure if he even existed outside of its context, or if he was like the dormice and the larks, a skittish creature who made his home in those grassy divots and only appeared to greet you before running back off to hide once you were gone.

At first, he was even more reserved than the animals had been. Neither of you spoke, but somehow, it happened that you were always in the same place at the same time, and eventually, little by little, the two of you became dependent on one another’s presence. Your life before meeting Hiori was pale and lifeless in comparison to your life after, and the first time you both spoke as friends instead of strangers, you thought to yourself that you could never go back to the way you had previously been.

No longer did you whistle at birds and play with squirrels; instead, you sat across from Hiori and listened to him explain things like soccer and video games. You were not particularly interested in either of these subjects, but as long as it was Hiori, you didn’t mind hearing about them. It was the cadence of his voice you were concerned with, the rise and fall of his words, the soft inflections of each syllable.

You had never had a friend before. It was a personal choice rather than a failing; every person who tried to engage with you was met with the same disdain, for you found no appeal in any such clumsy attempts at camaraderie. In your childish mind, friendship ought to be hard-won and delicately kept, and so it remained that of all the people in the world, Hiori was the only one whose honest company you could prefer.

He was a forlorn and low-spirited boy, the winter to your bursting summer, but his coldness was the inviting sort, like a dusting of snow on a cluster of berries or frost on a forgotten bird’s nest. It did not ward you away but drew you in, your breath fogging in the air as you lay beside him and listened to him ramble on and on about whatever topics struck his fancy.

Sometimes he was prone to muteness, and on those occasions you took it upon yourself to intertwine your fingers with his, pulling him along behind you and naming every plant and tree and flower you passed by, greeting the tittering chipmunks and the cooing larks and the peeping rabbits. He would not say anything, but you knew he was listening, for he would smile slightly whenever you pointed at something he found particularly pleasing.

Every day, he would bring the soccer ball with him. He refused to put it down, but neither did he play with it or even acknowledge its existence; you sensed it vexed him, that it was the source or a symptom of the gloomy undercurrent which ran through his life, but he could not let it go, just like he could never truly be happy in any way that lasted.

“Y/N,” he said once, when you and he were lying on your backs in the grass and watching the clouds drift by. “If you could be any other creature, what would you be?”

“I don’t know,” you said, considering the question seriously. “Maybe a songbird. What about you?”

“I’d be one of those,” he said, pointing at a butterfly floating past. It was a common variety, nondescript and plain and white, but somehow made more beautiful by the ubiquity of its kind.

“Why?” you said.

“I’d live a short but carefree life, and then I would die before anyone could demand anything from me,” he said, smiling slightly and closing his eyes. “Plus, if I could be something as small and pretty as a butterfly in our meadow, then I would be able to spend my entire existence resting on your finger.”

Your meadow. You weren’t sure when it had gone from being a place you visited to a place you owned, but yes, the shift had definitely occurred. You and Hiori loved it, and so it was yours by that right alone. You reached out your hand, setting it on his heart and then closing your own eyes in a mirror of his position.

“I wouldn’t prefer that,” you said. Something cool and soft curled over your fingers; you knew without looking that it was Hiori’s own hand, which would always come to rest against yours like a magnet.

“Hm,” he said.

“I’d get used to you being there,” you explained. “And then one day you’d vanish and I’d be alone again.”

“Would you miss me?” he said.

“Very much,” you said.

“Nobody else would,” he admitted, though he still spoke in an even monotone. “I’d be replaced quickly. Someone just as talented or even better would take my place, and then it’d be like I was never there in the first place.”

“I’d miss you,” you insisted. “I don’t care about talent. You’re someone who’s irreplaceable to me.”

“I see,” he said. “Then I guess, if not a butterfly, I would also want to be a songbird. Like you.”

“We could fly around the world together,” you said.

“Yes,” he said. “The countries I’ve seen in my video games…we could go to them. If we were birds, we could.”

“Maybe we still can,” you said.

“We can’t,” he said. “My parents would never let me.”

“What about when we’re adults? They can’t tell you what to do then, so we can leave them behind and travel wherever we want,” you said.

“It’s a nice dream,” he said.

“Hold onto it,” you said. “That’s the only way it can ever come true.”

“Okay,” he said. “I will.”

Even as you and Hiori became older and made friends outside of one another, there was a sort of solace which only he could provide you and which in turn only you could provide him, so neither of you ever outgrew that field. The moment you got home from school, you’d drop your bag on the counter and run there as fast as you could, hoping to see him before he had to leave for soccer practice. And every time, without fail, he’d be there, waiting where he always was, his small smile widening when he saw you racing towards him.

The contents of your conversations changed, moving from games and plants to complaining about schoolwork and updating one another about your respective social lives and dramas — he went to a private academy for soccer, while you attended the public school that most kids your age went to — but the familiarity never diminished. If anything, it only increased, as any inhibitions you had had in your youths gradually fell away.

“Hiori! You’ll never believe it,” you said, moving his abandoned soccer ball aside and sitting across from him. He did not look up from the pieces of grass he was braiding together, but he nodded to indicate he was listening. “Remember those two guys I was telling you about?”

“The ones who had a crush on the same girl?” he said.

“Yup, those two,” you said. “They finally got into a fistfight over her! It was crazy.”

“Who won?” he said.

“The principal, because he broke up the brawl and suspended them both,” you said. “Thereby ruining their brief romance-novel-moment entirely.”

“That’s a pity,” he said with a snort. “I can’t imagine what possessed them to do something as stupid as beating each other up on school grounds.”

“Love makes people crazy,” you said dramatically, pressing the back of your hand to your forehead and collapsing backwards into the dirt. “You’ll understand when you feel it yourself, silly Hiori.”

“Huh?” he said.

“I mean, one day, you’ll fall madly in love with someone, and then you’ll be inclined to beat another person up for them,” you said.

“What if I already have?” he said. You shot up with a gasp.

“And you didn’t tell me? Who is it? Who, who? You can’t hide stuff like that!” you said.

“It was only a hypothetical,” he said. “There isn’t anyone. What about you? Are you madly in love with someone?”

“You’ll be the first to know when I am, but at the moment, I don’t find myself able to even tolerate any of the boys I go to school with! They’re all disgusting, immature, and insensitive. Just looking at them is enough to make me gag, so forget about falling in love!” you said.

“That sucks,” he said.

“Maybe I’ll be single forever,” you said. “I’ll live alone, with pets and a porch swing and a backyard just like this field, somewhere faraway where no one can find me.”

“What about me?” he said, taking your wrist and tying the braided grass around it like a bracelet.

“Well, I’ll tell you where I am, of course,” you said. “You’re the only one I would want as a visitor.”

“I’ll come every day,” he said.

“At that point, you might as well just live there with me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “It’d save you the time spent traveling back and forth.”

“Would you like me to?” he said. “I thought the point was for you to be alone.”

“If it’s you, then it wouldn’t be so bad,” you said. “Being with you is even better than being alone.”

The sun hit Hiori at the exact moment that he grinned at you, and in the back of your mind, where things were understood but not known, you recognized that of all the beings in that lovely place, he was far and away the loveliest.

A distant and rumbling thunder portended a storm on the day you learned who Hiori really was. He never went to the field if it was raining — there was no excuse for him to escape his home, and so, though you did not much mind the weather, you tended to keep to your room on those days as well. Today, though, the rain was still only a blot on the horizon, which meant you would have a precious few minutes with him before it began to pour and you had to leave again.

“Hey, Hiori,” you said. In an uncharacteristic move, he wasn’t holding onto the soccer ball; instead, it was on the ground, his foot resting atop it, his head bowed towards it and his hands balled into fists at his sides. He glanced up at you, and you were surprised to see that there was a dead, hollow quality to his eyes, which, though always placid and still, were never this shade of dark and dreary. “Is everything okay?”

“Have you ever wanted to kill someone?” he said.

“No,” you said immediately, taken aback. “Have you?”

“No,” he said. “Yes. I’m not sure. I don’t want to do it, but somehow, I want my parents to die.”

Another crack of thunder. You approached Hiori slowly, like he was a deer that would leap away the instant you were close enough to touch him. But he was not a deer, and he stayed preternaturally immobile, his harsh panting the only signal that he was a person and not a statue.

“Do you mean that?” you said when you were near enough to him that you could’ve embraced him if you wanted. “Is that really how you feel, Hiori?”

“Yes,” he said vehemently. “Yes, I mean it more than anything. Everything would be better if they would just die and leave me alone.”

He drew his leg back and slammed it into the ball. It streaked through the field, leaving a muddy rut in its wake, tearing up the grass and the flowers before crashing into a tree with a groan. You stared at the path of devastation it had wrought, wondering how such an innocent object could create such havoc, how such a simple act could have such irreversible consequences.

“That’s what soccer is,” he said when he had caught his breath and noticed your silence. “A tiring game you play to ruin yourself.”

“I thought you liked playing soccer,” you said. “You always told me how good you were at it.”

“Just because I’m good at it doesn’t mean I like it,” he said. “I hate it almost as much as I hate the people that make me play it.”

“Then why do you keep going?” you said. “Why don’t you quit?”

“Because I have to,” he said. “My parents gave birth to me so that I could play soccer and be the best at it. That’s the only role I know how to conform to, so how can I do anything but accept it?”

You wrapped one arm and then the other around his torso, leaning your temple against the dip of his collarbone, turning your back to the blight he had caused and holding onto him as lightning split the sky.

“Don’t ruin yourself,” you said. “Don’t betray who you are because other people tell you to. If you don’t want to play soccer, then don’t. Quit and leave it behind. Maybe everyone else will mock you, but would it be enough if I didn’t? If I alone swore not to think any less of you, then would you be able to do it?”

“No,” he said. Something dripped onto your head, and you thought it had started raining early until you realized that Hiori’s voice was catching on nothing, his heart beating as fast as a mouse’s. “No, it wouldn’t be enough. I have to play soccer.”

“Why?” you said.

“My parents,” he said. “If I don’t play soccer — no, if I’m not good at soccer, they’ll divorce. They’ll divorce and it’ll be my fault, so I have to keep doing it, because no matter how much I hate them, I can’t be — I can’t be the reason that they — that anything bad happens to them.”

The droplets came in quicker succession, but with a final clap of thunder, the sky opened to let the rain out, blurring the line between his tears and the natural precipitation which would’ve occurred whether or not you were there.

You didn’t know what to say to him, so you opted to say nothing, pressing into him for as long as you could before you both had to go, leaving one another behind as you were always forced to. Now, though, there was a proof of your existence in the shape of that ugly gash that his soccer ball had torn into the field, an alteration which was directly a consequence of your actions. In a season or two, it would be grown over, but for the time being, it cheered you to think that the world could no longer avoid acknowledging you, acknowledging that you and Hiori were real, that you were alive and belonged.

In your second year of high school, a boy in your class came up to you, stopped you in the hallway in front of everyone and thrust a bouquet of supermarket flowers into your hands. He asked you to read the attached card, and you obliged, though you had a feeling you already knew what it said.

As you had predicted, it was an invitation to have lunch with him sometime. His cheeks were red and his smile was wide as he waited for you to say yes, but all you could think of when you looked at him was Hiori. How would he feel about this turn of events? Would he be amused or jealous or unfazed entirely? Would it even matter to him? Why were you thinking of him at a time like this?

No, that last question was one you knew the answer to already. The reason why you were thinking of Hiori was the same reason you still went to that field to see him, even though you were far too old to play with mice and birds and clovers now. It was the same reason that you recoiled from any other boy who tried to talk to you — because they were not him, they could never be him. It was because — it was because —

Much to the consternation of the audience you had unwillingly gathered, you handed the card and flowers back to the boy, shaking your head as politely as you could. There was a demand for an explanation on the tip of his tongue, but you left before he could make it. The explanation was not one you wanted to share, so you covered your ears with your hands to drown out the insults he shouted after you and strode away before he could say anything worse.

Hiori was always the first to arrive and the last to leave, so it was no surprise that he was waiting for you where he always was. Today, though, you did not bother with formalities or welcomes or lighthearted questions. You paid no mind to his antsy demeanor, instead catching his hands between your own and squeezing them.

“Y/N—”

“Hiori—”

You both called out each other’s names at the same time, with the same urgency, though there was a layer of despair when he said Y/N, just as there was pleading infused into the way you murmured Hiori.

“You first,” he said, though he looked over your shoulder, staring towards the road instead of at you. “Quickly.”

“Okay,” you said. “A boy asked me out.”

“Oh,” he said, and when his gaze slid onto you, you noticed that for the first time, there was something flaring to life in the blank depths of his irises, a veritable maelstrom of unreadable emotions twisting together and blending into something entirely other than the stillness you had come to expect from him. “What did you say?”

“I refused,” you said. “I couldn’t date him, not in good conscience. Not when I like — not when there’s someone else.”

“Someone else?” he said. “Y/N, please hurry.”

“What’s the matter?” you said, letting go of his hands so that you could instead hold his face. “Hiori, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you in trouble with your soccer team? Is that stupid crow boy causing you problems?”

“What? No, no, Karasu’s not done anything worse than usual. It’s my parents, I think they’re growing suspicious of me, I’m afraid they’ll—”

“It’s you,” you said, cutting him short, his haste rubbing off on you. You weren’t sure whether it was his anxiety or your own or some sort of divine premonition, but you suddenly felt an impending doom, as if you had to speak at that exact instant or give up the chance to ever say it again. “Hiori, you’re the reason I said no. It’s because I like you.”

Hiori, who had carved his way into your heart on the very first day you met, who was fond of butterflies and songbirds, who was bashful like winter and gentle like dusk. How could you help it? Of course you liked him. That boy who had reached into the lonely chasm of your soul and ripped it out, turned it into something lighter and warmer and whole…how could you help falling for him?

“Me?” he said in disbelief. “But—”

“So this is where you go, Yo,” a stern voice said. Hiori inhaled sharply, and then he yanked away from you, shoving you behind him, though it was far too late. You knew who had finally found the two of you, and furthermore, there was no way she hadn’t seen you. “This doesn’t look like practicing soccer. How much time have you been wasting in this dump, with this fool of a girl?”

You peered around Hiori’s back, holding onto the hem of his shirt. Fear constricted your throat when you saw a woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to him standing before you, her hands on her hips, a dour expression on her face. Whatever had been sparkling in Hiori at your confession had abruptly disappeared, replaced by an even more severe version of himself.

“It’s not a big deal,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “We just met recently.”

“Not a big deal? Think about how much better at soccer you would be if you actually spent this time practicing instead of messing around! A few minutes every day is the difference between starting for a team and being a substitute, because a few minutes every day turns to hours every week, which turns into days lost every month! You should be ashamed of yourself,” his mother said, marching over and grabbing him by the collar, wrenching him away from you. “From now on, I’ll be supervising your additional practice time. As for you, young lady…don’t even think of coming near him again. He doesn’t need distractions like you getting in the way of his ultimate goal.”

“His ultimate goal?” you said, your audacity surprising even yourself. Without Hiori’s shadow to hide you, you were entirely naked and exposed, but somehow, you found the strength in you to speak up. “What, of being the world’s best soccer player? Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe he doesn’t want that anymore, if he ever did?”

His mother scowled at you. “You are a poison of the worst sort, if you have him doubting what he’s been aiming for since he was young. Stay away from my son. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

She dragged Hiori away before either of you could manage so much as a goodbye. It was the first time since you had met him that you found yourself alone in that field, which suddenly felt so vast that you finally understood why people thought it to be cursed. It had to be, because why else would it have given you Hiori and then taken him away with such a swiftness that it left you reeling?

For a week, you continued to go to the field, just in case he would magically be there, but it was a foregone conclusion that he would not be. Still, you waited, and though the larks sang their songs and the dormice chittered at you sweetly, nothing could set your spirits right when Hiori remained missing.

On the eighth day you spent without him, you didn’t even bother with the field. Instead, you knocked on every door of every house in your small neighborhood, continuing on until the one who answered was the same woman who had stolen Hiori from you.

She remembered you, her expression turning sour at your appearance, like you had shoved a lemon into her mouth. Shockingly, though, she did not slam the door in your face. She only cleared her throat before speaking in the most abrasive voice you had ever had the misfortune of hearing.

“What is it?” she said.

“Hiori — Yo, is he around? I just want to see him one last time. I’ll leave him alone after that if you refuse to budge, but at least let me say goodbye. I won’t ever distract him again if you give me that chance,” you said.

“If I gave you even the slightest leeway, you’d pounce upon it, won’t you? I’m not so daft. I’m sure that, if I let you in now, you’d never leave. In the end, though, it’s irrelevant. Yo’s gone,” she said.

“Gone?” you said. “What do you mean?”

“He’s participating in a soccer training camp called Blue Lock,” his mother said. “The way they raise their players is what his father and I been trying to impress upon him from the start, so we’re glad he made the choice himself to go. Now, he can focus on his own self-improvement instead of brief dalliances that would never last.”

Hiori was gone. There was a deep ache in you, and those words were its source, yet nonetheless, for him, you could only muster up pride. He had finally done it. He had flown somewhere free of the burdens his parents placed on him; to be sure, it was defined by the soccer he despised, but nonetheless he had made the decision to do it on his own. It belonged to him, and he had spent so long without anything to his name but a deserted green that you laughed as you sobbed, leaving him behind for good.

A long time passed before you saw him again, though you watched all of his matches on TV. He had become someone different and yet still familiar while in the Blue Lock program — he was sharper now, sharper and quicker, his eyes constantly burning in the same way they had on the day he had left you. Most notably, you thought that that childish love for soccer which he had had and then lost had blossomed again, now into a stable, unshakeable passion which no one, not even his parents, could take from him.

You had probably also changed, though of course it was harder to recognize it in yourself than in another person. But you were not so sparing with your offers of friendship anymore, and neither were you harsh to every boy who approached you. With Hiori gone, the only reservations you had were feeble and pointless, so you stopped saying no quite as often.

Nothing ever came of these school-type romances. Inevitably, you’d walk home and your eyes would stray to the spot where you had spent so much of your childhood with Hiori, whereupon you would pull out your phone and send a formulaic apology message. Sorry, but it’s not working. There’s nothing wrong with you, but I don’t think we’re a good match for each other. Thanks for taking me out. I really appreciate it.

The longer it became, the less frequently you thought about him. He turned into a memory, fuzzy around the edges with nostalgia and tinged with gold. He was someone you claimed to know around those with a more vested interest in soccer, but deep inside, you had accepted that your path had diverged from his a long time ago. You and Hiori weren’t meant to sit beside one another for eternity; he had been there when you needed him, but it was time for you to stand on your own, as he was clearly doing all of the way over in Blue Lock.

“I can’t believe you’ve finally graduated high school!” your mother said, sniffing as she took a million photos of you standing awkwardly, your diploma in your hands, your gown hanging loosely on your body and the pins holding up your cap jabbing into your scalp. “We’re so proud of you, dear.”

“Next stop, Tokyo!” your father said, swiping at the tears which rolled shamelessly down his cheeks.

You had been accepted into the University of Tokyo, and at the end of the summer, you would move into your own apartment, leagues away from everything you had known for your entire life. It was exciting, but it was also terrifying, because the thought of being all alone in the bustling metropolis still made you break into a cold sweat.

Now that you had officially graduated, it all seemed so much more real. Going to Tokyo, attending university, getting a job and supporting yourself…these were not dreams of a distant future but immediate and pressing concerns that weighed on you.

Once you became a university student and then an adult proper, you visited home less and less. You hardly had the time, and anyways there wasn’t much to do in that town, so instead your parents would take trips up to visit you when they missed you terribly — which was often. They would update you on the happenings of your neighbors, and you would take them to your favorite restaurants and attractions, like they were foreign tourists coming to the country for the first time.

“You know, they finally finished construction on that plot across from our house,” your mother said to you on one such visit, taking a sip of bubble tea to punctuate the outrageous statement. There were streaks of gray in her hair now, and far more lines on her face than there had been when you were younger, but she wore the signs of age with grace and dignity, so that they were weapons instead of faults.

“You never told me someone bought it,” you said. So that was that, then; the last remnants of your tender friendship with a boy you had not spoken to in years was all but destroyed now. It belonged to another person, who would make their own memories on the land, and the thought of two other people standing where you and Hiori once had caused a lump to arise in your throat. It was as much grief for the idyllic days of your childhood as it was for your former best friend. Both were lost to you now, and both you mourned in equal measure, though you knew no amount of crying would ever bring them back.

Perhaps there had been a window of time in which you might’ve been able to reconnect with Hiori, but the idea hadn’t crossed your mind until it was far too late, and you supposed it must’ve been the same for him. Or maybe he had, upon joining Blue Lock and becoming an international celebrity, forgotten about you entirely. It was a possibility, and no matter how much it stung, it was one you did not resent him for.

“Yes, it was a while ago. Apparently, he lived in the area when he was younger, but he left to pursue some athletic career? Anyways, now that he’s rich, he wanted to invest in some property close to home, so as soon as the previous owner died, he swooped in and bought the entire field up. You know, considering how much money he has, the house is downright quaint in its design,” your mother said, shaking her head. She had a penchant for gossip, and you could not count on two hands the amount of days you both had spent giggling with each other about silly, inconsequential matters. This, though, crossed the line — it wasn’t dumb gossip but legitimate news.

“Athletic career? Do you…do you happen to remember what sport?” you said.

“No idea,” your mother said. “Why?”

“Was it soccer?” you said. She choked on a pearl of boba. Absently, you leaned over and slapped her on the back to help dislodge it. She coughed and dabbed at her face with a napkin before nodding.

“Ah, yes, that sounds familiar!” she said. “I think that might be it.”

“I’m going to take the next few days off and visit you guys,” you said. It was a spur of the moment decision, but you could afford it, and something told you that what you would find would be far more valuable than another day at your boring, if not well-paying, job.

“Really? That’s wonderful! You’ll love how things have changed. The place has really come to life in the past couple of years,” she said.

The train ride home from Tokyo was just over two hours, and it ran through a familiar countryside, which you watched for the entire journey, smiling slightly whenever you rushed by a landmark you recognized. By the end, however, it seemed every sight was a landmark of some sort — not the nationally important ones, but the type that was personally significant. The many little places you had visited when you were young…even now, you recollected them with startling clarity.

Your father was delighted that you had returned home with your mother, and the whole house smelled like his cooking when you walked in through the front door. He must’ve begun preparing as soon as you had mentioned that you were coming back for a bit, and the grumble of your stomach warned you that you would regret it if you did not hold off on your investigation until after dinner.

You sat in the same chair you had once sat in and ate the same food you had once eaten. It was your favorite as a little girl, and your father served it to you personally, his lower lip trembling as he ladled two portions onto your plate instead of one. Hardly even a month had passed since he had seen you last, but he had always been an emotional man, bawling like a child at every reunion and separation alike.

The sun was setting when you excused yourself, placing your dishes in the sink and ducking outside under the pretense of needing a walk to digest your food. Well, it was only half a pretense — your father truly had fed you until you thought your stomach might split open, as was characteristic of his affection. You really did need to walk around so that your insides could settle, but more importantly than that, you wanted to confirm the theory which had been brewing in your mind since your mother had brought it up.

As she had said, there was a brand new house across from yours. It was nothing like the grand mansion that the original owner must’ve intended to sit on the land; it had a winsome yet unassuming charm to it, and it only took up about half of the field, while the rest of it had been left entirely alone, still green and wild like you recalled it to be. You were sure that if you looked close enough, you would find the dormice and the squirrels and the chipmunks and the larks exactly where you had left them as well, but you did not have the time nor the patience for that at present.

When you climbed the porch steps, you noticed that to the left of the door was a cushioned swing, atop which a tortoiseshell cat was dozing. At the sound of your footsteps, she opened one champagne-colored eye, but she did not seem to regard you as worthy of her attention, for she promptly closed it and returned to her rest.

Your fingers hesitated on the doorbell, resting on the button, too scared to press down. You didn’t know what you had to be afraid of, but for some reason, you were nervous, a pit forming in your stomach as you deliberated over what to do. Before you could make up your mind, the cat meowed at someone in greeting, jumping off of the swing with a light thud.

Spinning around, you saw that the owner of the house was standing at the bottom of the steps, the cat rubbing against his legs as he beamed up at you. Any lingering doubts of yours dissipated into nothingness at the instant you once again made eye contact with Yo Hiori; like a reflex, the corners of your mouth curved upwards in a fond greeting.

Like always, in his hands was a soccer ball, though more prominent than the ball itself was the butterfly which lay on it in repose. Its white wings were thin and quivering, but curiously, when Hiori held the ball out to you, it did not fly off, instead remaining stationary, waiting for you to reach out and take it.

#hiori x reader #hiori x y/n #hiori x you #hiori yo #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #childhood friends #reader insert #m1ckeyb3rry milestone #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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