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hoaqins-funk-house · 4 years ago

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Springtrap

Yandere

Male Reader

You can read part 1 here

You can read part 2 here

Part 3; Finale

Spinning your keys around your finger, you go to slip them into the backdoor's lock, finding that turning it was difficult.

Far too difficult.

"Did someone break in?" You mutter, pulling the key out and beginning the walk around to the other entrance. "Well, if they did I doubt they'd stay long, not with William there."

Entering through the front, you look around the dark establishment, trying to spot if anything had been stolen or otherwise interacted with violently. With a sigh of relief at the sight of everything being normal, you fully step in, making your way through the building and wondering with a disgusted expression how William was able to walk through this place barefoot.

Turning the corner that allowed you to look into the window of your office, you see your golden-green companion looking at the door with his head tilted, an unrecognizable expression on his face.

"Yeah, the lock's broken for whatever reason." You say, his gaze shifting before his face does.

"Mhm." He walks towards you, stopping a few meters away. "Say, have you thought about me very much?"

Caught off guard by the question, you tilt your head. "Huh?"

"My existence. How I came to be trapped in a suit." He elaborates.

"Not really, to be honest… why?"

He looks into the office window, eyeing that tablet. "The suit, being an original model, incorporated these little devices known as springlocks."

Your brows furrow. You only knew of Springbonnie and Fredbear from random things online, so the inner workings of them was completely unknown to you.

"The reason why they're called suits; the springlocks pushed back all the little bits of animatronic things that filled them, thus allowing them to be worn by employees. I, as you can tell, was one of them." His gaze shifts back to you. "However, I wasn't when I was subjected to my slow death."

He takes one small step towards you. "It was in a room known as the saferoom- ironic, isn't it- which was invisible to both cameras and the animatronics that walked around."

His lips twitch up. "I hid in there, waiting for them to come near me. When they did, I broke them. They all came, and all of their shells were destroyed."

Shells? Destroying the animatronics?

You watch as he takes another step forward, this one larger.

"But, the ones inside those shells weren't so easily deterred."

Ones inside…?

"They chased me. Forced me into hiding in the suit. They wanted revenge; wanted me dead."

He takes a few larger steps, now within arms length. You, however, grow uneasy, stepping back. His eyes stay locked with yours, a soft grin on his lips.

You truly do look like his prey.

"I don't blame them. After all, who wouldn't want their murderer dead?"

Your eyes widen as your suspicions are proven correct. When he takes a step forward, you do the same in reverse. If you look away for one moment, he'll catch you. You've seen his speed.

His eyes glow in the dim light, lips curling into a nightmarishly wide grin.

"Oh, it seems you've figured out my big secret. Does it change your view of me? Would you still wake up on top of me so calmly?" He laughs. "Would you still let me rest my head on your hand? Would you still so easily approach me?"

You were wrong last night. Dead wrong.

He's terrifyingly monstrous, even as a human.

"Well, I suppose my last question has already been answered." With a small chuckle, he jolts forward, you ducking to the side right before he could reach you and dashing off. He glances your way during his brief pause, expression horrifyingly giddy.

His steps are loud behind you, and you only manage to reach cam 6 before arms cage you in against the wall, you turning to face the grinning man as you push yourself up against the wall as if trying to force yourself through it.

He lifts his hand, placing it on your chin and using his thumb to brush over your cheek. "You're too adorable. You really are like… my prey."

God, the fear in your eyes…

His grin widens a bit more, and his hand slips to the front of your chin. You clench your eyes shut, hearing a gruff laugh before his chapped lips connect with your own. You tense, feeling his other hand grip your wrist, applying more and more pressure until you let out a pained noise, him taking the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth.

Your eyes stay shut until he finally separates, where you reluctantly open them once more, finding a very satisfied-looking William and a small string of saliva temporarily connecting your tongues. "Don't worry. It's not the end of us after just that." He assures.

The hand previously on your chin shifts to your hip, where his fingers press somewhat harshly against the cloth, holding you in place further. Leaning in once more, he grins at the tiny whimper that escapes you. Redirecting himself, he instead aims for a much more sensitive area.

You let out a gasp as you feel his lips against your neck, quietly hissing as he harshly bites down, his sharp canines drawing blood. After he has his fill of that, he follows it up by sucking on the spots he had just bit, you feeling your heartrate pick up even more.

The sound of your heavy, stuttering breaths in his ear certainly doesn’t discourage the man.

Still, he leans back, enjoying the sight of your reddened face as you reach up, covering your neck with your free hand. This, of course, wouldn’t be the end, but he needs to save the rest for later.

He steps back.

His grip on your wrist, while looser than before, is still firm as he begins to walk you back to the hall in front of the office. "Now, I have a little game for us to play. We've done it before, so I won't explain the rules. If you make it to 6, I'll let you leave. But if you don't…" He pauses, glancing over his shoulder at your panicked face, which he responds to with a smile. "Well, I'm sure you can guess."

Standing in front of the entrance to the office, he waits for you to hesitantly enter.

"As usual, I'll start in the back. Don't even try to escape, it's not gonna work. I broke the lock and that door isn't going to be breaking from anything but power tools."

You give a small nod, eyes shifting to the chair.

"Well, good luck. You'll most definitely need it."

You don't react to his voice, walking towards the chair as he begins his walk back.

You turn on your phone, checking the time and finding that fifteen minutes have already passed.

You can't call for help, if anyone came in they'd be killed by him. If he lived through an endoskeleton being shoved into him, he'll live through pretty much anything.

Still, you text your brother quickly.

You put your phone down, not caring about the wave of notifications that came from him spamming trying to get you to respond.

Pulling the camera pad out, you switch to where he normally starts right as he walks in. He sends a chilling smile up at the camera, eyes eerily glowing within the shadows.

"Let's begin!" He calls.

Immediately, your eyes widen as he reaches up, ripping the camera right off of the wall.

You feel your breathing pick up again as your heart pounds out of your chest.

You aren't going to make it.

When he dashes into the next room, you lead him back. He snarls. Briefly, before cam 10 gets ripped off of the wall, you see him glance at the vent.

Thankfully, he ignores it, running into the next room before you hit him with the sound again, rebooting audio and cameras tight as they go out.

"Fuck that guy for making this shit so 'authentic' it breaks down every two seconds!" You mumble to yourself.

William tears cam 8 down, running out once more. When you manage to catch him, he's in cam 4, and you lead him back with more audio.

"You won't keep this up, you know! You'll run out of cameras!" He laughs, the sound echoing in the building.

You frown as cam 5 goes out. You lead him back further, hearing the thumping of the vents and quickly switching your cameras to them, sealing off a vent thankfully just in time. His grin drops.

You check the time.

It's 2.

5 of 10 cameras have already been torn down, and you are unable to play audio from them.

He gets out of the vent surprisingly quickly, continuing his race to you.

When he reaches another vent, you block it off before he reaches the end. He rips off a camera that you haven't even used yet upon getting out. As soon as he sees cam 3, he rips it off as well.

You see the first sparks.

You lead him back again, he charges again.

The cameras start it.

You lead him back again, he charges again.

Soon enough the back half of the building is in flames, swallowing everything and coming for you faster than William could.

You have nowhere to lead him to but right outside your door, and he disappears.

Completely.

Not in any cameras, not in any vents, and not in your vision.

The smoke began to pile into your room, so you rip off a sleeve of an old jacket that was left and tie it around your nose and mouth, getting out of your chair to stay lower to the ground.

Frantically, you switch through everything again, continuing to look for him, but turning your head to the sound of a grate both thrown aside.

He went through the break room.

There, you meet eyes with William, who seems to be doing just fine in the intense heat that fills the attraction.

You quietly gasp, grabbing your throat as smoke fills it even with the makeshift cover. You wince, ripping the cloth off, finding William about three meters from your office. Frantically, you reach towards the vent close button, but when you press it, you hear the sound of failing machinery.

It was broken.

He broke it the first night, and now you would die because of it.

Blindly grasping for your phone, you send another message to your brother.

'Get fire help' is all you could type out before William pins you to the ground, you barely managing to send it.

Grabbing your phone out of your hand, William carelessly throws it into the wall, you wincing at the crunching noise.

"You know, back when I was alive, I did much research on souls. Every soul contains this little thing known as 'Remnant.' Now, Remnant is the only reason I'm alive. There's no way to destroy it, except for fire."

Your eyes widen.

"This building won't get hot enough to completely destroy our Remnant, so don't worry about that. Still, think of it like a metal. When it gets hot enough, it melts. It can meld into other people's Remnant."

You clench your teeth.

"Of course, there's no way I am going to destroy you. So, instead, I think I'll go with another option." He smirks.

You can feel your vision get hazy.

"Within this fire I will preserve your warmth, and we will be welded together."

Your lids droop as you feel your breaths become raspy.

You're going to die to the smoke, not to the fire that roared outside of your office, slowly inching its way in.

You let out a few more wheezes, feeling lips against your own before your vision goes black.

He gets the news less than an hour after he calls the fire department.

His brother, the only immediate family he had left, had died in the fire.

It doesn't take much thinking to figure out who did it.

William.

That man, that murderer, is going to pay.

However long it takes.

-----

i did not plan this out right this part is a lot shorter than it should be but ehh whatever

whoop whoop it is done… I mean I have a sequel planned but either way, this part of the story is done

See ya later :)

#springtrap #springtrap x reader #william afton #william afton x reader #afton #fnaf #fnaf x reader #fnaf 3 #yandere #yandere fnaf #yandere springtrap #yandere x reader #five nights at freddy's #x reader #male insert #reader insert #fnaf springtrap #gay

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povcherry · 3 years ago

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The Love Test | DNF

Dream and George take a test to see if they are in love with their best friend

The intense red text was prominent on his screen. Frustratingly, the one time Dream agrees to playing bedwars with George and Hypixel is down.

Dream lent back in his chair, hands behind his head staring up at the ceiling. His room was dark, the only light shone from his monitors. Patches wrapped around his legs. A deep sigh left George, as he lay his head on his desk in exasperation, an empty subway wrapper by his face, the time on his monitor read 2:17 am, yet he wasn't tired. After being on calls almost consecutively with Dream for essentially a year, he had managed to sync his sleep schedule up with him, already in Florida time prepared for when he goes to live with Dream and Sapnap.

George was disheartened. He was looking forward to playing with Dream. They were both normally either too tired or busy editing or working to go on minecraft for fun, and not just for a YouTube video. But now that they couldn't play bedwars, they were bored and unsure of what to do. They only called each other so that they could play minecraft, but that wasn't an option anymore.

"What do you want to do now then?" Dream asks, his voice far away from the mic, so much so that George nearly missed what he said. He hesitated, staring at Dreams discord profile picture light up.

"We could..." He stalled, drawing out his words. He wasn't the best at making decisions, he was much to indecisive. "Do you want to stream GeoGuessr?" He suggested, silently hoping Dream would say no. He didn't really want to do anything, only talk to Dream for hours on end.

"Not really. My brain is too slow for that level of concentration." That earned a giggle from George, putting a small smile on Dreams face. He loved that sound. "How about we go in my merch vc? Me and ni- Sapnap had fun last time just listening to music?"

George was hesitant. The last time he went in Dreams merch voice call was during the sleep over with Sapnap and Dream. That ended up in a disaster of butterflies and George having to turn his phone off for a couple of hours just to distract himself from the 'dreamnotfound' mayhem they had caused yet again on twitter. He felt giddy just thinking about it, Dream whispering into the mic, loudly cursing when George beat him at 8ball. It made him dizzy thinking about it... thinking about him.

George didn't hate it though- the attention from Dream and the fans. Despite all the jokes and innuendos that they both do to mess with their fans, George knew there was some truth to it all. A deeper meaning to being called an idiot. The endearing term that Dream loved to use oh so much. George felt fluttery, wanting to be called an idiot at this moment.

"George?" He had been silent for a while, reminiscing.

"What would we do on there?"

"Just talk. Or listen to music. Whatever you want to do, George".

Without thinking, George clicked onto the icon for Dreams server. "Do you need to add me to the call?" He asked, unsure about how the podcasts worked.

"Yeah, I need to quickly tell my mods to open it first."

Within minutes, they where in the call, hundreds of people pouring in immediately, spamming the chat with things like 'GEORGE?!' and blue and green hearts. George stifled a giggle, nerves taking over him. Despite doing streams for a living with tens of thousands of people watching him, there was something more intimate with calling Dream in a private server.

"Hello" Dream broke the silence, welcoming all the fans. He chuckled, looking at the chat, "Yes, George is here today. Hypixel was down and we had nothing to do"

"Hi" George was unsure what to say, scratching his neck in awkwardness. It wasn't this weird when he was streaming. At least then they had a plan and chat was relatively easy to read. He was doubtful that this call would end well, what with his ignorance to some innuendos and jokes involving DreamNotfound.

"We thought we would just pop on here. We're kind of bored." Dream stated, unable to see what people where spamming in the #podcast chat. "I can't see what you guys are saying, i'll probably just read my twitch chat."

Half an hour passed and George was getting hungry and bored, nothing eventful had really happened so far except for Dream explaining his setup and chat freaking out over his galaxy mouse pad.

"I want food but all that's in my fridge is butter... oh and the BTS sauces and... uhm expired milk" George complained, looking through his fridge while still on the call.

Dream chucked, "Why do you have expired milk in your fridge?"

"Not the point, I just want food"

"Well get some food then" Dream counteracted. George sighed and rolled his eyes, sitting back down in his chair. His stomach rumbled loudly, calling out to his hunger.

"I'm going to order McDonald's." And with that George muted his mic, found the McDonald's number and ordered his food, in the background, he could hear Dream.

"Should i do a quiz?... yeah? Link some in the podcast chat." There was a long silence. George, long ordered his food, stayed muted, listening to Dream talk to his chat. He found it so endearing the way Dream spoke to them, as though they where a family. His voice soft and gentle as he scrolled through the chat looking for a quiz.

"Ooh, this looks interesting... oh, 'Am I In Love With My Best Friend?'. Sounds... interesting" George stopped. Everything seemed to slow down. Eyes wide as he looked at the screen infront of him, Dreams discord icon lighting up as he chuckled nervously. He wasn't actually going to do it was he? The room was getting hot for George, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to delve into the idea of being in love with his best friend, let alone his best friend being in love with him.

He quickly unmuted, ready to call Dream out on what he was doing, but Dream beat him to it.

"George, i'm going to do the 'Am I In Love With My Best Friend?' quiz" He laughed, opening up the link and reading out the first question. "do you catch yourself looking at your best friend?"

George stalled. They had face timed multiple times in the past, Dream only letting George see his eyes upwards, but George always found it hard for him to look away. He got lost staring at his best friends eyes. George quickly messaged Dream asking for the link for the quiz, if Dream was going to do it, so would George.

"Dream, check dm's" He rushed.

"Huh, what, why?" Dream asked, busy trying to still his own heart beat. He had always known at the back of his mind that he had romantic feelings for George, whether that is because he was just touched starved and was desperate, or because he genuinely wanted more than just a friendship with George, suppressing his feelings as to not ruin anything between them.

"Just read it." George urged, getting apprehensive, unsure whether he should just delete the comment and over analyse everything Dream says.

But before he knew it, the link to the quiz had been sent to George, a small smiley face underneath it from Dream. George was about to reply with a '?' to the smile, but Dream spoke up again.

"I just put 'once in a while', i mean, it's not like im never looking at you but i don't do it like.. all the time." George clicked all the time. He couldn't get enough of Dreams warm amiable eyes. His eyes were a kind of green that speaks to the soul of nature, of fresh wands of grass and new buds, and his eyes were that bright colour, bold and beautiful.

"Right," he snickered, " next question, 'are they the first person you call when something happens?' uhm... yeah, i guess. But not always, i mean i would call my mom first." He laughed, ignoring the fact that George was silent. George always called Dream if something was wrong. He wasn't in contact with his parents, Sapnap wasn't the most mature when it came to serious things, yes he was a great friend and he would be there for George if he needed, but Dream came first. George put Dream before everyone, at time even before himself.

"George?" Dream disrupted his thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"You're being so quiet, everyone is asking if you're asleep" George looked at chat, Sure enough, between all the green and blue hearts, there where people spamming Georges name and sleep.

"Oh uhm no, it is 3 am though. Kind of tired." He said, anxiously looking at the next question, mouse already hovering over 'it's nice if i can'. George didn't wake up thinking about Dream, not always anyway. Just if they had fallen asleep on call together, or if they were recording a video that day.

"You should sleep." His voice had softened. He too was looking at the same question. Thinking about George staying up just for him made him feel giddy, but he also didn't want George to be sleep deprived.

George held back a smile. "I'm good, we're in sync bb" he snickered, knowing that would get a rise out of the chat. He could practically hear Dream roll his eyes in exasperation.

"Oh come on" He laughed, his voice low and raspy as he started to read out the next question. He couldn't get through it without laughing, however. "'Do you get jealous if he or she has a boyfriend or girlfriend?' Oh come on! I mean..." He started, George's scoff cut him off. "What?" Dream laughed.

"Nothing" George giggled

"To be fair.. no, but... i mean, wouldn't anyone?"

"Not really." George counteracted.

"Well, no. But! But! But! It would be one of those things where it's like, awe, now he's gonna be spending time, like, doing that, instead of like, with us. Like with like, me and sap. So, I'll put maybe a little. Right? Maybe a little.?" Dream stuttered, trying to defend his reasoning while George just giggled at his flusteredness.

George had already clicked 'ugh its the worst' already. He remembered when Dream had told him Sapnap was moving in with him. Now, George knew his best friends. He knew there was nothing going on between Dream and Sapnap, but something about them living together tickled George the wrong way. He was pissed off, to say the least. George wasn't normally jealous, but when it came to Dream, he became a different person. He almost didn't want to share Dream with anyone else... George wanted Dream all to himself.

"Dream, no one is arguing with you..." George whispered endearingly, a small smile painted across his lips.

The next few questions were uneventful. Dream still defended his answers despite no body calling him out on them. The chat was a blur of left ear jokes and and blue and greens. George answered 'yes' on the majority of the questions.

" Do you have dreams about them? Im- Okay! That's unfair, like, oh my god. Okay, I'll put sometimes." Dream rushed, desperately wanting to move onto the next question. He didn't want to tell chat, and especially George, about the dreams he has. No body knew about the desperation Dream has when he dreams about George. The want and longing to touch George in many ways than one. The heartache Dream feels when he wakes up because he knows the happiness his feels in his dreams could never be recreated.

"What?" George once again giggled. He was starting to have fun now. Seeing Dream embarrassed made George feel slightly better about his answers, but at this rate he was afraid the quiz would tell him he's so hopelessly in love with his best friend that there was no hope for him. "What do you dream about me?"

"You- you've had- you're- you're an idiot, you've had dreams! You've had one hundred pe- you've told me about dreams you've had!" He stammered, struggling to get his words out correctly without revealing too much. He was starting to get hot, the air conditioning in his room seemed to do nothing, the 'GNF' jumper he was wearing was suffocating him. He was suddenly finding it hard to breath under the weird pressure of these questions he had no obligation answering.

"What type of dreams, hmm?" George teased. He had his head resting in his hands leaning on the desk, taking in everything Dream was saying. George, of course had clicked 'all the time' about dreaming about Dream. Dream was on his mind 24/7.

"Oh don't even start with me, i know you've had dreams about me. You told me you've like.. texted me in your dreams or something. You.. you definitely have, anyway..." The two argued for the next few questions, and it was all smooth sailing for both Dream and George, until it came to the big one. The one that caused George to almost throw up the McDonald's that he had eaten a half hour ago.

Dream went silent. George could almost hear Dreams heart beating through the mic. He knew why, too. He saw the question. George had been dreading this. He chose to stay silent, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

"Do you ever think about what it would be like to kiss your best friend?" Dream was silent for almost thirty seconds. He felt sick. The amount of times he had wondered what Georges lips felt like. Whether or not they were made for him. Perfectly molded to fit Dreams own. He dreamt about them constantly. The soft touch of lips. He was beyond salvageable. "Uhm, n-no. Of course not."

"Why did you take so long to answer?" George was apprehensive. He wondered whether Dream thought about kissing him as much as he did. George so desperately wanted to, he wanted to feel them on his own lips, wanted to know what Dream tasted like, how he smelt. He was forlorn.

"I'm just going to put, well... i'm going to put.. well there's no good answers. I'm just going to put 'yes but it would be like kissing my mom'". He lied, his mouse had been hovering over 'at least a few times a day', unsure whether to click it or not, but he knew the truth. He wanted to kiss George more than he ever wanted to do anything ever.

The rest of the quiz, George kept silent. If he opened his mouth, he would confess his love on the spot. He had finished all the questions, revealing a 32%. He was totally in love with his best friend. Desperately, pathetically and hopelessly in love. He needed help.

"Okay, last question" Georges ears pricked up at this, he was happy it was almost over. He needed to talk to Dream in private, even if it killed him. "Do you see them in your future?... of course. A lot of my future is your future. I don't want a future without you in it..." Dream whispered, muting his physical mic so that no one could hear his breath leave his body. That was the most intimate he had probably ever been with George in front of fans. He hoped he hadn't just messed anything up.

George still stayed silent. Dreams answer made him almost cry with happiness. He couldn't imagine a future without Dream.

Dream un-muted his mic to finish up the quiz, "It says, you are in love with a few things about your best friend, so it's likely that you could fall entirely in love with them if you... if things keep up the way they are right now." George was unsure of what to say. Chat was once again asking if he was asleep. Both boys took no notice. Almost silently, so silently George almost missed it. But he held his breath, staring at the monitor with fear. All colour had drained from his face. He was about to pass out.

"If.. if you're worried they don't feel the same way... you're going to have to find out how to shut your feelings off, you don't want to ruin what you have."... no one talked for a couple seconds... both of them waiting for the other to say something, until George plucked up the courage.

"I don't want to ruin anything, Dream."

George loved Dream, and Dream was sure he loved George.

#georgenotfound #dreamwastaken #dreamwasfound #gream #dreamnotfound #dnf brainrot #short story

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swapder · 3 years ago

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Spam Aficionado

Wasn’t sure what to draw for this chap so here’s some random doodles!

Chapter 5/20: Chapter 5: Five. The phone…… Ring Ring.

Total Chapter Word Count: 750?

(Title is link to story! Under cut for those who don’t want to read on A03)

(Hmm not liking how this turned out, might delete later lol)

“HELLO?”

There was silence. He fiddled with the cord in his hand.

“HELLO, [Mike]?? I’M AT [Phone] NOW. PICK IT UP [Pick] IT [[Up]]. I’M [All Alone On A Late Night] [Please] [Please] [[Please]] [[Pick up the phone]]”

Nothing. Not even the fuzz of garbage noise. Just the dial tone. He sat down, scooting as close to the desk as he could. There was only a small pause as he glitched out, before he made a choice. His fingers started to put in the numbers on the dial. He ignored the voice in the back of his head screaming at him to stop, stop, what are you doing?! This is exactly what you came to prevent!

“We're sorry; we are unable to complete your call as dialed. Please check the number and dial again, or call your operator to help you.”

Both relief and disappointment zipped through him. That’s right. Of course. It never was a real phone number, was it? Not until…

“…Okay! So!” Spam’s head swivelled to watch the passing darkners. Spamton decided to stay quiet so he could hear however Spam started his pitch. He couldn’t at all remember how he used to, before [Mike]. It was clear Spam was trying not to futz or move about like he let himself do at home. There was a brief frown on Spam’s face before he twisted it to a slightly crooked, typical addison smile. “I— Okay. …Twelfth time’s the charm…”

There was a pause as if he forgot his lines, before he cleared his throat and spoke back up.

“Hey! Car sale, I— We’re selling a great, used car for cheap prices! At half the price than you’d find originally. Only 10 thousand dark dollars!”

It… Certainly was a pitch. But the words were spoken at a normal conversation volume, and not really ‘professional car salesman’ level. Or with the same excitement as Spamton. Even his words to Kris had fulfilled the basics of any sales pitch. As freaked out as Kris had been, it still worked.

“WOW. THAT’S [[Dirt Poor Quality]] DEALS!”

Spam practically blinked in response, his smile twitching down. There was no reason to hide how dumb Spamton thought it was. Not all of his glitching words were totally involuntary. Just mostly.

“Wh— It was perfectly fine.”

“YOU NEED, TO BE LOUDER! AND [Adobe Flash]IER!” Spamton declared, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He patted Spam’s shoulder and gave a computer fan hum. The younger’s smile truly fell this time.

“Is that why you yell?” Doubt was obvious in the younger’s expression, though he wasn’t sure why.

“OF COURSE! THAT AND MY vOICEB0X IS… [Stuck In Traffic].” He didn’t want to dwell on that so he tried to think of how to continue on the previous topic. His grin grew wider. “WATCH AND LEARN, [Little Sponge]!”

He threw his arms up, dropped his jaw, and then let out strange music from his throat. Along with the music, his fur and hair started to shift through rainbow colours. It was quite bright, lighting up the area around him. Eyes previously ignoring them turned at the odd and mildly obnoxious sight. Perfect.

He glanced over to Spam, then to the street. Picking a random stranger, he walked up and swung an arm at them to force their attention on him. The legal papers in his hand crinkled loudly. “HeY HEY HEY!!!” He cut off his song and rainbow. Luckily this situation had the best sort of requirement. He just had to reuse the exact words he did the first time he sold this car. He waved his hands and approached closer after each sentence.

“[[Are you tired of walking place to place in this city? In need of a cheap solution that really works? Our lightly used and EXCELLENTLY maintained car is just what you need!!]]”

He paused to sort what to say next, gauging how they reacted. Oh. Hm, that was not a good look. Could he recover from that glare and electric zap of annoyance? He probably should have paid attention more to who he singled out. A werewire didn’t need a car. This one clearly didn’t like the audacity of the suggestion.

(Heh heh, as you may have guessed, this is just my version of April Fools! Yeah… It’s only parts of the draft for chapter 5. I’ve just been stuck on the end of the chap and in a lil’ depressive spell is all.)

#deltarune #spamton #Addison Spamton #spamton g. spamton #deltarune spamton #spamton g spamton #spamton deltarune #addison spamton #April Fools #Draft #Fanfiction #Archiveofourown #Time Travel #spam aficionado #art

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zenithpng · 3 years ago

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TRUST FALL “Do you trust me?” | taken hostage | pushed

[It’s not that Sokka’s shy about his tics. Unless someone needs silence or there’s an inappropriate word thrown in, he sees no reason to stifle himself. He can’t control them after all, and it’s not like he’s doing anything wrong.

But this was supposed to be a good day, undisturbed by anything that came out of his mouth or happened with his body.

Luckily, Zuko is there to help bear the load, and, strangely enough, so is Azula.]

Read more under the cut, AO3 link ->HERE<-

Sokka loves shopping. No doubt about it. There’s just something about the bustle, the running back and forth, the decisions and the excitement of getting something new that never fails to put a smile on his face. So when Zuko grumbles that he needs to go shopping for some spring and summer clothes, Sokka immediately offers to go with him, having been needing to do the same thing anyway.

They set a date and a time, plan which stores they’re going to so Zuko knows what to anticipate, even coordinate their outfits, for Tui and La’s sake. (Okay, the last one is all Sokka’s idea, but there’s nothing wrong with being well-dressed with your friend and Zuko humours him gladly.)

But there’s something. There’s always something.

This something comes under the name of midterms.

The end of March is always horrendous, and really, Sokka should have known better than to plan something smack in between all the stress. But it’s fine , it’s really fine. He can take a day off from the calculus study guides (spirits, why did he have to take that in the tenth grade) and the engineering workshops because this is Zuko he’s meeting up with!

He likes Zuko, loves Zuko. If anything, this is the absolute best way to relieve his stress.

And so he’s outside the mall at one in the afternoon, foot tapping as he waits for Zuko. Soon he sees the familiar figure strolling up, giving a little wave and a shy smile.

And it’s normal to just not want to tear your eyes away from your friend that just happens to be very pretty, right?

Because Zuko is, in fact, very pretty. Straight black jeans, a red button up with - hang on, are those dragons? - left half-open over a white binder that looks like a regular tank top to anyone who doesn’t know, hair up in a ponytail with loose strands falling out and framing his face.

And Sokka could keep going. Could talk about the belt chain with sun and moon charms, could talk about the matte black on Zuko’s fingernails, could talk about the theatre mask necklace he’s wearing. Because there’s just so much and Zuko- Zuko looks so nice.

God, Sokka must be grinning like a fool by the time Zuko’s finally within arms reach, and he immediately pulls the taller boy into a hug. Zuko lets out a breathy laugh, returning the embrace.

“Someone’s excited to see me.” Sokka shakes his head, the smile never leaving his face.

“Nope, just for the shopping,” he jokes. “Race you the rest of the way, onetwothreego!” And he takes off, dashing towards the front of the mall, laughing when he hears a yell of “Sokka-a!” from behind him.

By the time he stops, Zuko is right behind him, both boys breathing hard and shoving at each other.

“You’re terrible,” Zuko grumbles. “You know I can’t keep up with you.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” Sokka says, spinning on his heel and marching into the entrance, looking over his shoulder to make sure Zuko’s following, not that he really doubted it anyway.

*****

They’re only two stores into their browsing when Sokka snaps his fingers, slapping the nearest clothes rack. He hisses, having hit a sharp corner, and shakes his hand out. Zuko peers over from the other side, expression tinged with the slightest bit of worry.

“Everything okay?” he asks. Sokka nods, wincing.

“Gotta be careful where I hit, I guess.” And Zuko just nods, going back to his searching.

That’s the nice thing about being with Zuko. He never presses like Katara does, or answers to tics like Aang. Unless Sokka somehow manages to hurt himself or is visibly upset, he leaves things alone. It’s refreshing, being around someone that doesn’t pay any more attention to his tics than the laces on his shoes.

Sokka slides over yet another shirt when he sees one Zuko might like. It’s black with red seams and fire embroidered at the bottom and on the sleeves. He calls Zuko around to take a look.

And that’s when everything starts going wrong.

As Zuko’s stepping around the rack, Sokka’s knees buckle, hitting against the carpeted floor painfully as he fails to catch himself on anything. Zuko’s eyes go a bit wider, and he’s on the floor in a split second right beside him.

“Was that a tic?” he asks, taking Sokka’s hands to help him back up. The younger grimaces as his legs straighten painfully and he nods.

“I think so,” Sokka says. “Never happened before.”

“And you’re sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. Probably just a one time thing.”

And Zuko nods, looking over the shirt he’s handed, dropping the subject.

*****

It’s not a one time thing.

Sokka’s knees keep hitting the floor or coming close, Zuko lunging to try and catch him or at least slow his fall each time. And it seems like each time there are more tics in between the drops, and they’re coming more frequently and his eyes are burning and-

Great, he’s crying. He’s sitting on the floor of an JCPenny, crying and unable to stem the flow of sounds and words and, oh, gods, he just hit Zuko, Spirits-

Zuko’s trying to get him to breathe, looking like he’s on the verge of tears himself.

"Hey, hey," he tries, ignoring any weird stares they're getting. Sokka's hand flies up to hit at his own head, and Zuko brings it right back down, not restraining but simply letting his own hands be an obstacle. "I'm gonna- I'm gonna call my uncle, or your dad? If that's better?"

And Sokka tries to answer, he really does, but between his gasping breaths and the words and trills it's just impossible and he feels so useless-

But Zuko- Zuko is a godsend because he just pulls him in close, hushing him gently, one hand carding through his loose hair.

"I'm gonna call my uncle," he says, "And then if it's okay with you, I'll use your phone to call your dad." Sokka nods, biting his lips to stifle a bubbling-up tic. Vaguely, he feels Zuko shuffling around, hears him talking to Iroh and then his dad, but it's all far away.

Quiet noises still fall from his lips, but he's too exhausted for all his physical tics, and it's the worst feeling ever. His brain is screaming for him to jerk his head, to hit the floor, something, but his body feels like it weighs ten thousand pounds and he just can't. Zuko's hand trailing up and down his back provides some comfort, but it's still just so terrible and he hates it so much.

"Think you can stand?" Zuko asks softly. And Sokka knows good and well that the answer is no, but he nods anyway, only to come crashing back down, stopped only by Zuko's quick reflexes. Sokka nearly sobs again, but Zuko just pulls him up, lifting him like it's no problem. A protest bubbles up, but Zuko quickly brushes him off, saying he's had plenty of practice with Azula.

Sokka has no idea what that means, but saves his questions for when he doesn't feel like he's actively falling apart.

Before he knows it, he's in the back of Iroh's car, Zuko explaining in hushed tones. And when they pull up to the Jasmine Dragon, his dad is already there, pulling him upright and holding him as if he's a little kid. But maybe that's what he needs in the moment, and he lets himself be maneuvered into the passenger's seat and buckled in.

He's asleep before his dad even turns onto the main road, tired beyond belief.

Sure, it’s a sucky experience. No one wants to pass out because you’re so tired you can’t hold yourself up anymore.

But by the end of the day, Sokka’s all right. It’s a Friday, and he’s got on a hoodie two sizes too big and is laying in his bed, spamming Zuko with memes while the other boy replies in all caps to try and end the flow of images. But it’s all in good nature, and before long they’re video calling, stifling laughter in their pillows.

And by the next morning, it’s forgotten. That is, until he drops suddenly in the kitchen, the plate he was reaching for clattering to the floor with him. Bato glances over briefly, concerned, but goes back to getting ready for work, hovering a little closer than before.

Sokka makes it a point to stay seated for as much of the day as possible, going from the couch to the table to his desk in a never ending cycle. He knows he can’t keep this up for ever, but for now, it’s going to have to work. Instead of wallowing about it, he just tries to push through. No point in crying about something that will solve itself.

And for the most part, his dads and Katara are just fine, not really paying attention unless there’s a need for help. That is, until he tics on the stairs and hardly stops himself from falling the rest of the way down.

Hakoda looks up from where he’s typing at the kitchen counter, his face serious.

“You know you can’t keep going like this, right?” Sokka groans, shutting his eyes and laying his head back against a stair.

“Dad, it’s fine. It’ll go away eventually. I just have to tough it out.”

“And how are you going to go to school? How are you going to get to classes?” Hakoda shuts his computer, standing up and walking over to help Sokka up. They make it to the living room without incident, sitting down across from each other.

Hakoda looks like he’s trying to force words out of his mouth but can’t quite get them right. Finally, he speaks.

“You know it’s okay to ask for and accept help, right?” Sokka nods slowly, not sure where his dad is going with this. Hakoda takes a measured breath.

“Okay, okay. Good.” He swallows hard and continues, “How would you feel if Bato picked up something to help you out on his way home?” And Sokka’s got no idea what his dad might be talking about, but he shrugs anyway. It’s his dad after all. Hakoda only wants the best for him.

“Sure,” he says easily, and smiles. “I’d like that.”

*****

When Bato returns from work that day, he’s holding a long box. He mutters something about leaving it in Sokka’s room and disappears upstairs. Sokka doesn’t really pay it any mind. Bato isn’t someone who’s huge on talking like Dad is. He likes to sit back, give the problem at hand a nudge in the right direction, and watch it resolve itself.

And so when Sokka goes upstairs, he’s not really sure what to expect. He just pulls the keys from his bookbag and slices through the tape on the package, not really paying attention.

But when he finally gets the box open, he freezes. Then, he unfreezes, curses himself for not seeing this coming, and runs an agitated hand through his hair. It’s a cane.

A very cool cane, with metallic blue waves racing up the length of it, but still. That’s… not something he expected.

Sokka takes a deep breath, trying not to get weird about this. Plenty of people use canes. Hell, Toph uses a cane to get around, and they’re one of the toughest people Sokka knows. He’s not doing it for attention or to look cool or something. This is something that will make his life easier for however long it takes this tic to go away.

That doesn’t make this any less difficult though.

(Toph uses a cane because they’re blind. Sokka’s gonna use one because his brain won’t stop screwing him over.)

But Sokka’s nothing if not resilient, and he figures if he’s gonna do this, he’s not going to feel embarrassed about it. So he gets up, supporting some of his weight on the cane. He tics almost immediately, but hey, he doesn’t fall to the floor again. Pacing back and forth across his room for a bit gets him used to the pattern, gets him used to catching himself when his body tries to drop.

It’s fine, he’s gonna be fine. Sure he’s gonna get weird stares at school, but that already happens.

But still, it couldn’t hurt to drop by the Jasmine Dragon, right? Not that he’s nervous, no, of course not. It’s just that Iroh gives such nice advice and Zuko’s smile always makes his day so much better. Really there’s no reason he shouldn’t go to the Jasmine Dragon.

Sokka picks up his phone.

socks - 18:17

Hey do you mind if i stop by tomorrow

Zuko - 18:21

It’s a tea shop, Sokka. We can’t exactly control who comes and goes.

socks

no i mean like to talk

Zuko

We do that every time anyway.

Sokka sighs. Right. He needs to actually explain himself. Zuko’s not the greatest at picking up on stuff like that.

socks

I have some stuff I want to sit down and talk to your uncle about if that’s okay

And maybe talk to you too ;))

Zuko

Oh, yeah. That’s fine. Sundays usually are slow anyway.

socks

Sounds good, cya tomorrow

Sokka places his phone onto his nightstand, switching it to Do Not Disturb. He is going to get some rest, talk to Uncle Iroh, and everything will be okay.

*****

Walking to the Jasmine Dragon with his new cane is awkward. He’s still not quite used to it, and he logically knows that there’s no one giving him dirty looks from across the street. But that doesn’t stop him from turning his head over his shoulder and checking every so often, just to make sure.

To Zuko’s credit, he hardly reacts to the new, ah, accessory when Sokka pushes open the door. His face lights up in a smile when he sees him come through the doorway, and though his eyes flicker exactly once to the cane, his smile doesn’t falter and he punches in Sokka’s order the same as always.

“Uncle’s in the back, we were running low on the rose tea so he’s brewing some right now,” Zuko explains when Sokka’s peach boba tea is ready. He tugs a straw from the box on the counter, handing it to him. “He should be out in just a minute, I told him you were out here.”

True to his word, Iroh shuffles out a few minutes later, and Sokka pauses his scrolling through his phone to smile up at the man.

“Good morning, Sokka,” Iroh greets cordially, setting down his own cup of tea. He blows at it lightly before stirring in a bit of honey. Light brown eyes, dimmed with age but no somehow no less sharp than Azula’s, smile at him.

“My nephew mentioned you wanted to speak to me.” He takes a sip of his tea, nodding in silent satisfaction before looking back up at Sokka. “What troubles you, child?”

Sokka sighs, popping a piece of boba in his mouth before reaching down, lifting the top of his cane over the top of the table. Iroh furrows his brow, nodding slowly.

There’s a slam from inside the kitchen of what sounds like an oven door. Sokka startles slightly, though Iroh hardly reacts at all. It must be Azula baking again. Both turn back to their conversation with not a word about the noise.

“Zuko has told me of your… tics, are they called?” Sokka nods, and Iroh continues. “If this assists you in your day-to-day life, there is nothing to be ashamed of! There is never shame in accepting help, whatever form it may come in. A bird will build its nest of leaves or wool, provided it is soft.”

Sokka bites the inside of his cheek, nodding. It’s nothing he hasn’t heard before, from his father before bed last night, from Bato earlier this morning, from himself on his walk over. It’s good advice, accompanied by the warmth of the tea shop and Iroh’s signature proverbs. But it’s nothing special, really.

Iroh seems to notice, and Sokka feels a bit bad. But the older man doesn’t seem to mind, simply patting Sokka’s hand with a smile.

“I think perhaps I am not the best to assist you right now,” he says, standing and taking his tea cup. “Just a moment.”

He stands making his way back into the kitchen. There’s grumbling from inside before the door swings open again, Azula marching out.

She yanks the chair from under the table and sits unceremoniously, her face flat. She’s sharp where Iroh is soft, but there’s no real boredom or anger in her expression. She sticks out a hand.

“Let me see.”

Sokka passes the cane across the table awkwardly, making sure not to hit anything. She examines it with that sharp gold gaze, nodding in approval.

“Study,” she finally says, which is probably the closest thing to a compliment Sokka’s ever heard her give. “Doesn’t look too bad either, I suppose. Not that looks are the purpose here.” She hands it back, narrowly missing the straw of Sokka’s cup of boba. He’s still not quite sure why Iroh sent her out to sit with him, but he doesn’t really mind. Like Zuko, she’s someone that doesn’t change character because of a situation.

“It looks nicer than my old crutches at least,” Azula says, almost casually. “Those were such an ugly shade of green, I don’t know why Uncle bought them.” And she’s so offhand about it all that Sokka almost misses the meaning of her words.

“Wait, what?” he blurts before he can stop himself. Azula? Who’s always an almost royal air about her? That could probably have him on the ground in two seconds flat? That Azula?

She must have been expecting his reaction (of course she did, it’s Azula), and she simply crosses her legs, resting one arm on the table.

“I used to have so many issues when we first moved in with Uncle,” she begins, her tone still as if she’s speaking about the weather. “I screwed up my body for a while, didn’t eat and threw up what I did.” Sokka tries to imagine Azula as anyone other than the confident person he knows and comes up short.

“It was a series of unfortunate events, really. A weak body meant weak bones, apparently, and a jump I tried to make ended up shattering both my legs. Had to be in a wheelchair for a while, then use those forearm crutches for longer than I would have liked to. But it was fine, I suppose.”

Sokka bites his lip. They both know the question on his mind, and they both know Azula won’t give him the answer until he asks. Finally, he takes a deep breath and goes for it.

“How’d you- you know. Stop worrying that you looked… stupid?” Azula rolls her eyes, though there’s the slightest bit of an upward turn to her mouth.

“Well, anyone who’s opinion mattered to me didn’t care. Do you know how annoying Zuzu was for those months? It was always, ‘Zula, let me carry that, Zula, let me pick that up.’” Sokka nods. He knows the feeling all too well. Azula sighs, casting a glance at Zuko, who’s taking some customer’s order.

“But, as grating as it was, it was because he cares. And anyone who said anything bad, I could hit them with my crutch. I mean really, who’s going to admit they got beat up by a five-foot-one girl with crutches?”

And yeah, okay, that gets a laugh out of him. The image of Azula whacking a rude customer or classmate with what is essentially a large stick is one that he can conjure up easily.

Azula turns fully towards him, her expression shifting minutely.

“Do you trust me?”

Sokka freezes for a moment. Azula and he aren’t close, not like he is with Zuko. But if he thinks, there’s really no reason not to trust Azula. She’s straight forward and doesn’t beat around the bush. And so, Sokka nods.

Azula seems pleased.

“Then trust me when I say there’s going to be hardly anyone paying attention.”

And somehow, despite all the people telling him similar things, it’s Azula that finally drives it home.

*****

The next day at school, Sokka jabs Aang under the table with his cane as the younger boy laughs. Katara’s next to them, trying and failing to hide her mirth, while Suki and Toph smother laughter into their hands. His phone chimes, and he flips it over to see the notification.

Zuko

Hope your day’s going okay. Azula’s trying out a new recipe by the way. She says she wants you to try it.

Sokka smiles, typing his response.

socks

Day’s going great, zukes :)) and i’ll be there, cya later!

#whumptober 2021 #no4 #trust falls #do you trust me?#avatar the last airbender #fanfic #ao3 #sokka #ts sokka #azula #zuko #iroh #bato #hakoda #katara #modern au #atla fic #luca's corner

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hydrangeaho3 · 4 years ago

Text

I'm supposed to be your brother

summary: Wilbur gets mad at Tommy and somehow Phil's the one left to deal with the aftermath

a/n: this fic in no way represents the real people and is merely a work of fiction. If any CCs have a problem with it pls let me know. This is also part 1 of 3 parts. Anyways, happy reading!!

PART ONE

By the time Wilbur has finally finished his last meeting, it's already 8:00 pm and he's dead tired. His meetings had been absolute bullshit today, some stupid managerial shit he doesn’t feel like taking care of. He’d been planning to go straight home, drink some wine and then pass out before he remembers that he's promised to stream today.

He’s only about a couple of blocks away from his office when the first raindrops hit his face. Wilbur looks up. The sky is slowly darkening and the clouds are beginning to gather. He keeps his pace, hoping that it won’t get too bad until he’s reached his office but his luck doesn’t hold out. He’s only a block away from his house when it really starts pissing it down.

“Shit”

He starts to run and is just pushing the lobby door open when he hears the first clap of thunder. The noise shudders through his entire body, chilling his bones even further. He sighs before making his way to his office in the sea of white doors that surround him. Wilbur pauses before the door. He already knows what's going to greet him inside. Now Wilbur isn’t a neat freak or anything like that, he is a streamer after all but he does pride himself on a certain level of cleanliness.

He cracks open his office door. A giant mess greets him. Papers are lying everywhere, his Home Home poster is lying on the floor. There are old takeout containers next to his keyboard. Frankly, it's a disgusting mess. He’d been meaning to clean up but lately, he's been so busy and not in the greatest headspace and so it had slipped his mind.

Wilbur resolves to clean up the mess after his stream today. He’d been planning on a casual stream, one that didn’t involve a lot of energy or require him to be constantly active and engaged. Maybe a few rounds of GeoGuessr or chatting with Phil and then ending the stream a little early.

He sits down in his chair, sweeps away some of the food containers before hovering over the GoLive button. He hesitates for a couple seconds before clicking on it. His starting soon screen opens up and he watches the viewers start to trickle in. He gives it ten minutes before turning on his face cam and looking over at his chat. The messages are slowly scrolling through the screen.

Hi Wilbur!!

BIG MAN DUBS

POGCHAMP

Are you okay? You look tired :(

He’s streaming!!!

He decides to ignore that last one before commencing his starting spiel.

“Hey, guys, how we all doing today? Doing good? Well I’ll tell you how I’m doing and that's shit, I’m doing absolute shit. It’s fucking thundering outside right now. Can you hear it chat? It's so goddamn loud.”

“Anyways chat, I was thinking we could play some GeoGuessr you know, just relax and chill out today.” His chat seems pretty okay with that. They’re used to watching Wil play GeoGuessr for hours on end.

He’s been playing for almost an hour now before he hears the discord sound that signifies that someone’s joined his VC.

“BIG MAN. EYYYY WILBUR!!!! How are you???” Wilbur winces as Tommy’s voice plays through his earbuds. It's obnoxiously loud today, even more so than usual, and it’s grating on his ears.

“Hello TommyInnit, how are you?”

“I’ve been doing good Wilbur. Played some Among Us with Tubbo and Schlatt and the rest of the gang. Other than that I’ve been doing my Big Man Activities. You know how it is Wil” Wilbur smiles at the familiar response.

“Ah, I see. How was your Among Us stream?”

“It was really really good. I got to play with Pokimane Wil. THE Pokimane,” Tommy shouts, apparently very excited about this occurrence. “Remember the time we both played with her? Oh god, that must have been so awkward for you Wil. Imagine if Nikki had been there, it would have been so so awkward.”

Wilbur lets out a sigh, he’s really not in the mood to deal with this bit. He’d only planned to stream some GeoGuessr not talk to Tommy about Pokimane and Nikki.

If Wilbur had been blessed with the ability to see the future, he would have known that this moment was where it all started going downhill. Unfortunately for Wil, he wasn’t prophetic so he kept streaming.

Tommy and Wilbur ended up switching to Minecraft and it doesn’t take long until Tommy’s coming up with some sort of bit involving drugs and an attempt to scam the players on the server. Normally, Wilbur would have loved to play along, leaning into the big brother and young brother dynamics but today it just feels wrong. Maybe it's the cold that has seeped into his bones or maybe it's the clutter surrounding his desk or maybe it's Tommy’s voice grating in his ears.

Tommy’s been talking about how he’s going to need some name tags so his plan works and Wilbur keeps trying to interrupt him and telling him that he’s not in the mood for this bit but it's to no avail.

“Wilbur, Wilbur, what do you think of my plan? I think it’s really good but I need some name tags, oh- I also need some diamonds.” he keeps going and going and is somehow unable to tell that Wilbur is teetering over the edge.

“Tommy, tomm-”

“Oh, they’re some diamonds back in Pogtopia. Oh man, this is such a good plan Wil. No ones going to see it coming,”

“I don’t thin-”

“There’s a fucking reason people call me the biggest man on this SMP. Right Wilbur, right?”

And that's when Wilbur falls over the edge he’s been so delicately balancing on for the better part of two hours. He mutes Tommy over discord before closing Minecraft, filling his stream with only his face cam.

“Alright guys, I think that's where we’re going to be ending today. Hope you guys enjoyed the stream and I am going to be sending you off to Philza. Make sure you guys are nice in his chat and don’t spam him. Okay? Bye chat,” Right before he ends his stream for good he spares one glance at his chat.

bye Wilbur!

adios chat :)

did wilbur seem mad at tommy?

Wilbur felt really off today. Hope he feels better soon.

they really are like brothers

tommy was being a little shit today

Somehow Wilbur manages to ignore all of the texts commenting on how much they loved his stream and how much they enjoyed the Wilbur and Tommy interactions and instead all he focuses on is the last message he managed to read before the stream ended.

tommy was being a little shit today

“Hey Wil, that was a great stream today, I had a lot of fun”

When the silence becomes too loud and Wilbur still hasn’t answered Tommy began talking all at once again.

“Wil you okay? You seemed kind of off this stream,” This time it was the cold that had seeped into his bones, it was the clutter surrounding his desk, and most of all it was Tommy’s voice. As loud as ever, abrasive and unceasing in his ears.

“TOMMY. Do you ever stop talking? God, it’s so fucking annoying. You need to learn when to shut up,” Wilbur’s panting like he’s just run a marathon instead of playing Minecraft for the past hour.

The silence begins to ring, neither of them saying a word in hopes the other will have the right words to make it okay again. Instead, there's a small pained sound from Tommy’s end and then “I’m sorry Wil, I’m really sorry. I just wanted to- nevermind. I’m just sorry, really sorry,”

There’s a small click that signifies that Tommy’s left the call and then it’s just Wil, stewing in the storm he’s just created.

Oh God, what has he done? He- he just told Tommy to shut up. He had just verified every single fear in Tommy’s head. He was supposed to be the one that was there for Tommy, not the one hurting him. How many times had Tommy come to him, crippled with self-doubt and and how many times had Wilbur dispelled his fears with promises that Tommy was enough. He was supposed to be his big brother.

#tommy and wilbur #tommyinnit #wilbursoot #tubbo #mcyt #mcyt fanfic #found family #fanfic #sbi #sbi found family #philza #minecraft

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shhhlikeme · 4 years ago

Note

I ALMOST NEVER SEE ANYONE WRITE ABOUT ARAN SO IM JUMPING IN- ;-; Can I ask for his girl helping him relieve some stress, massaging him and his hands then just a nice cuddle session after..? also Ive been shy to hop in but hi you're pretty and Id love to be friends with you ;-;

UMMM A BIG ACCOUNT LIKE YOURS THAT JUST REACHED 1.25K followers (congrats beb!!) peeps my work ?? And compliments me + gave me my first Aran requestttt ?!

*faints*

I feel like this is a proposal and the answer is YES boo 💍🥰 friendssss 🥺🤗

Anyway I hope you like it newest friend💞

————————————

Some Aran Ojiro x Reader Romance 😩🌹

————————————

you and your boyfriend Aran haven’t been able to see eachother much in the past year at all

He just made the Japan National Team which meant he was practicing and travelling all the time

You two keep up with nightly Facetime dates every night which is great but he almost always falls asleep on you in the first 20 minutes

sleepy muffin that we love so much

You don’t blame him considering his training regimen.

When he wakes up he’s literally talking your ear off apologizing because he feels like a shit boyfriend for falling asleep every time

“I did it again and I know you say it’s fine but it’s not. I’m so sorry Y/N. When I get home, I promise I’ll make it up to you baby girl, I promise. Have a great day Queen and remember I’ll be home to spoil you in 10 days. You’re not ready. I love you! Peace!”

As you lay in your empty bed the next morning, you just smile at the video of him apologizing to you while he is running around his hotel room to get ready for morning practice

Your man works so hard but he never fails to make sure he’s the first thing you see when you wake up and the last person you see before you fall asleep. It’s endearing

He is super super busy being a professional athlete but that doesn’t stop him from making you feel special in the little and big ways

Sometimes, he orders you breakfast or dinner from your favourite brunch or sushi spot that you two like to go to so that he can put a smile on your face when he’s travelling

All he asks in return is a cute selfie of you in your pjs and messy bun with the food and that is the only thank you he needs

Seriously send it though or he’ll spam your phone lol

Can I tell you a funny story related to your mans sweet foodie gestures?

Okay so One random night last weekend.....

You heard a knock on the door of your condo and you quickly paused your Netflix movie to dust the popcorn crumbs off Aran’s t-shirt you were wearing

You opened the door excitedly thinking it might be another Uber Eats surprise from your boyfriend but instead you see a grumpy looking Osamu standing in the delivery guys place

“Your boyfriend is annoying.” Osamu deadpanned as he glanced at you once before letting himself in.

“Uh, Nice to see you.....too, Osamu-san.”

Samu murmured something in response grumpily and went over to your kitchen island to place down a large brown paper bag.

“Stupid professional volleyball playing friend and brother,” He muttered under his breath. You watched him take out lots of food from his restaurant from your spot by the door, by the look (and amazing smell) of it the bag was packed with all your favourites. You were thrilled even though the grey haired boy in your kitchen wasn’t.

“Look at me! I’m Aran. My stupid Uber Eats app won’t work from mutant-spider Australia so instead of just chilling like a normal person I call and beg my very handsome and very successful restaurant-owner friend to make my girlfriend all her favourite dishes and drive them over in the middle of a rain storm. A rain storm!”

You held your ground back at the door (knowing good and well not to get in the way of Samu when he was in one of his signature bitchy moods) as a smile crept on your face. It felt like someone was squeezing your heart as you watched Osamu comfortably rummage through your cabinets and find your dishes. He plated your food beautifully like the professional chef he is, all while mumbling angrily under his breath about his quote unquote “Simp of a best friend.”

When he was done with the food, Osamu also pulled out a bottle of your favourite wine from his restaurant that only Aran knows about and poured you a glass perfectly, swaying the liquid around first to make sure it was rich. Satisfied but still annoyed, Osamu cleaned his restaurant’s paper bag contents away and then walked over to your spot on the couch to take a handful of popcorn. Still a grump, he met you back at the door.

Samu looked down at you with the irritated expression you’ve become accustomed to over the years.

“Aran also told me to give you this.” He deadpanned before leaning down to kiss the top off your head then left. You smiled, unable to stop bubbling over in giggles because you knew Aran just added that to annoy his affection-challenged best friend. You poked your head out to the hallway of your condo building, seeing Osamu’s retreating figure you sang:

“Thank you, Samuuuuuu! 🎶”

Effectively adding to his annoyance just like your boyfriend would have wanted you to.

Without looking back, Osamu just lifted up a cool peace sign that your boyfriend and the two brothers were notorious for.

That trio, man.

dinner that night was the best you’ve had in forever

Not only was it delicious but

You realized that very night that your boyfriend was the most remarkable human in the world and you didn’t deserve him

You checked your phone as you sipped your wine because you received several texts from your boy asking where his picture of you eating is and also asking how funny Samu’s reaction was

You giggled as you read the text and then you had an idea! 💡

You put down your phone and quickly changed into some lacy lingerie for the picture:

Your boyfriend always asked for simple ‘rates PG’ pics because he loved to see you bare faced and wearing his big clothes. It was so cute to him.

he would make each new picture you sent his two backgrounds on his phone and he relished in the fact that you were so beautiful when you didn’t try

You knew this, but you also knew that your man deserved a little ‘sumn sumn’ for making tonight so special for you 😉

You put on a little sultry makeup to go with your sexy number and went back to the kitchen to your food and wine

You took a much sexier picture than he would ever expect

Actually you chose to send him a boomerang:

one of your hair slightly disheveled and your tits basically out despite the lacy cover. You pressed the wine glass to your red lips and winked in the boomerang, wiggling your hips ever so seductively

•••

in a luxurious hotel in Australia, your stunning boyfriend just finished his shower in his hotel room

He dried his face with a towel and opened his iMessage app on his phone... effectively ignoring the:

“🖕��🖕🏼🖕🏼it’s done.🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼”

text from his best friend Osamu and clicking your name instead

Aran swiped left on his phone hoping to see another cute picture of his girlfriend being sent to him that makes his day the brightest but what he actually sees instead almost makes him drop his phone out of his wet hands

No Deadass he almost dropped it! it slipped out of his hands 4 times

His heart beating because of his phone but mostly because you were the finest woman he’s ever seen, he replays your sexy boomerang 30 times, literally engraving every detail about you into his mind. If his teammates weren’t so nosy he’d love to make what you just sent him his background on his phone......but that wouldn’t work

He really treasured you and what you sent though. For Aran, the next 9 days at this Global Tournament could not go by fast enough.

Aran’s never asked for naughty pictures from you not once because he doesn’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, but seeing that you did it on your own, of course it made him want to skip his National game tomorrow just to fly back and make love to you all night then rub your back the way you like until you fell asleep

Mans is in LOVE, you feel me?

He wanted to show you just how treasured you are for sticking by his side through all this travelling shit. He wanted you to always know you were his queen even if he was miles away

So, by you sending this sexy Boomerang and treating him like a King even though you didn’t have to, your man fell even harder for you

He had so much planned when he came home like always: spoil you with a shopping trip with your girls, a romantic spa trip for you both and a trip to the amusement park, but it seemed so far away now

Frowning, Aran texted you back a paragraph telling you how beautiful you are and how lucky he was to have you in his life for a plethora of reasons

He Facetime’d you for the expected classic 20 minutes while you wore that lingerie BUT he actually stayed up for 36 minutes because he was fighting sleep like a damn boxer. He wanted to see you... but of course his fatigue got the better of him and he fell asleep with a big smile on his face because you whispered goodnight

•••

the next day, after sleeping in, Aran woke up for his first tournament game and did all of his pre-game rituals which included calling you, and his best friends Kita & the twins.

He proceeded to his 6:00pm game as planned in the grand court of Sydney.

Aran sweetly signed autographs and Jerseys with his name on it that fans and little kids eagerly presented to him before and after the game that they had won.

“Mr. Ran’! Mr. ‘Ran! Volleybwall is my most favouritest sport to pway , too! Can I have hug???” Asked a particularly bouncy little African-Australian girl in the crowd. Aran glances at the dad for permission and upon granting Aran nodded kindly and picked up the toddler so she was propped up on his hip. The girl wrapped her miniature arms around the big volleyball star’s neck and squeezed tightly. Aran chuckled in his deep voice, exclaiming an “Ow! You’re a strong one, aren’t you? A future Ace for sure.” The little girl gasped at her idols words and hugged him harder. The dad had to literally rip her out of Ojiro’s arms because she didn’t want to let go.

“Don’t break the volleyball player, honey. They’re sore.” Said the father to his daughter.

Aran reached in his gym bag to collect a clean tournament shirt from his bag and handed it to the hysterically crying little girl. “Sore is an understatement. But....here, ‘future Ace.’ When you make the National Women’s Team and I’m the one at one of your games, maybe you can give it back to me.”

The little girl’s whole life was made as she immediately stopped crying and smiled widely, hugging the shirt close to her chest as if it might disappear if she let go.

Because he was a teddy bear and wanted to sign as many kids memorabilia as possible, plus give the youth encouraging messages....Aran usually stayed an hour or two later than the other players after their away games. Telling his teammates to go on ahead back to their hotel without him

HE’S PERFECT 😩

Sore as hell and more tired than ever after his big games, he picked up his phone to call you on his way back to the hotel

He loved hearing your voice it was so soothing to him

No answer. He tried 5 times.

Thinking you were probably working hard from home, Ojiro dragged his feet past the hotel concierge and used all of his slumped body weight to push open the door to his hotel room.

He didn’t remember it being this dark in here or even shutting off the lights when he left, but being too tired to care he dropped his huge bag on the floor, gripping his aching shoulder as he took one step to the right to flip on the lights

When he did, he had to rub his sleepy eyes because he couldn’t believe what he saw

“Y-Y/N?!”

Standing in the middle of his hotel room, you smiled brightly and ran to your boyfriend, wrapping your legs around his waist in a koala hug. You wore that lacy number you used in the picture you sent him last night. Your man stumbled back from the impact and overall surprise but once he was stable he hugged you back tightly.

“Oh my God, you look incredible, what-what are you doing here?!” He asked, still in disbelief.

You pecked his lips and jumped down. “After last night I missed you so much. So I just called into work, booked a 9-hour direct flight and now I’m here! I’m staying for the rest of the tournament. Hi, handsome!!!!” You had so much happiness and light in your eyes that it literally woke up your boyfriend by contentment, even though he was just on the verge of collapsing on his bed from fatigue minutes ago.

He grabbed your face softly in his large hands and tilted your head up towards his to give you a proper kiss, letting you know how happy he was through the kiss.

You pulled away. “Whoa! Someone’s happy to see me!” You poked his tummy.

“An understatement—Wait, what is that?” Finally looking away from your face for the first time since he entered his room, Aran looked behind you in awe. There was a rather large massage table set up in the centre of his suite.

“Oh, that old thing?!” You questioned playfully as you jogged over to the big table and showcased it with your hands like a Wheel of Fortune prize girl. “I tried to book a massage for you for tomorrow because I know you always forget, but they were all booked obviously so I just asked the guy downstairs—after name dropping you—if they could bring this up and they had no problem with it!”

Aran looked at you incredulously so you continued. “Lay down, babe. I know you must be sore after your game. I ordered food for you too but they said it will be up here in an hour and a half. So, I’ll get out some of your kinks now, we’ll eat, and then I can massage you more until you fall asleep.”

Aran couldn’t believe this was happening.

“But you just got off a flight, Y/N! You must be tired, too! I couldn’t possibly—“

You gave your boyfriend your best Osamu impression with your seriously annoyed frown. “Aran. You do everything in your power to make sure that I’m feeling more than amazing every single day even when you are halfway across the world. So now since I’m a mere halfway across the room, I want to do this for you. Please. Let me return the favour.”

Feeling too tired to bicker and knowing you meant business, your big man gave in. He removed his shirt when you asked and settled face down on the comfortable table.

You put on some soft r&b and took out the essential oils you bought from the spa and began to give your man a sensual but remarkable rub down, taking immense care in soothing his muscle pain in his legs and back

You listened for his groans when you reached particularly sensitive spots on his back and spent a lot more time in those areas

When you were massaging his shoulders you made sure to lean down every few minutes to kiss the side of his neck and Aran would sigh in delight every time.

“Y/N. I know you want to get all of my kinks out and trust me this feels amazing, but, if you keep kissing me dressed like that I’ll stop this massage to make love to you on this table. Okay?”

You giggled and smacked his booty.

“Kay.” 😇

When the food came, you and Aran opted to sit on the couch and eat, feeding eachother and kissing and just being all cute n shit—🙄

A/N: Can you tell how jealous I am?

After dinner and your night routines, you told your baby to give you his hands in bed.

you lotioned them in between your smaller ones and gave him a long, much desired, kneading hand massage in the pitch black room until he was on the verge of falling asleep.

“I love you, Y/N.” whispered Ojiro, his deep voice slower because he was half asleep. “Please be here when I wake up....” He whispered before succumbing to a deep slumber.

You stopped your massage, kissed both of his hands and cuddled into his warm body.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, Aran.” You closed your eyes too, feeling sleep wash over you as well.... “I’ll always be here.”

#aran ojiro #aran ojiro x reader #aran ojiro x y/n #aran ojiro x you #black anime fans #fluff #hq fluff #haikyu romance #hq romance #haikyu fluff #fluffville #kaylas fluffville #inarizaki #kiba hq #haikyu headcanons #osamu hq #hq atsumu

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anomander-dragnipurake · 4 years ago

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Possessed Part 2 Chapter Two: Stuck

Just a heads up content warning for ‘attempted murder that looks like attempted suicide’. It's pretty graphic, definitely the most graphic thing I've written in years, so if you'd prefer not to read it, read up until King Boo says 'Actually, maybe I don’t need a painting of you after all.’ and then skip to the 'Two weeks later' break.

We should go to E. Gadd. Luigi finally suggested.

‘No, absolutely not!’ King Boo would rather do almost anything else.

Even stay stuck like this? It had been well over an hour since they’d found out about their predicament and all King Boo had done was pace around in his bedroom – if it could be called that when it didn’t have an actual bed – and occasionally try to free himself from Luigi’s body. Failing every time and causing nothing but pain and discomfort for both of them.

‘I’ll figure something out.’ What though? He’d never possessed a living being before. He hadn’t known it was possible to get stuck in them, if he had he probably wouldn’t have attempted it. … Luigi would’ve far preferred that.

What else can you try? E. Gadd’s an expert on ghost stuff, I’m sure he can find a way to fix it. And if that’s how the problem got solved then Luigi would be… No, he shouldn’t think about it because then King Boo would know the thought too. … It was too late though, wasn’t it?

‘Yep. I’m not giving you up yet. I’ll find a way to fix this and then… Actually, maybe I don’t need a painting of you after all.’ Even before completing the thought, King Boo reached into his suit pocket to pull out a butterfly knife he’d stolen from someone the other day because he’d wanted to ‘play with it’. The most surefire way to free a soul from a living body was to kill the body.

He flipped it open and… Out of sheer desperation and fear Luigi somehow managed to stop it a few inches away from his neck. That was all he could do though. His hand shook as he held it there, pointed at his throat, straining against King Boo’s control.

King Boo growled out loud and internally. Luigi was leeching off his magic to fight his will; how dare he? … Luigi had no idea how he was doing it, nor did he really care right now, he was much more concerned with not dying.

‘You’re going to die whether you like it not!’ King Boo started pushing harder, pushing his will against Luigi’s.

Luigi managed to hold it there for several seconds but… King Boo was strong and determined and…

‘You’re pathetic! You know you can’t win so stop trying!’ It was King Boo’s voice but it was the kind of thing his anxiety would say to him because well, it was true. There was no way he could win this battle when it took everything, he had to just hold the knife still.

He whimpered internally as the knife inched closer. King Boo’s rage at Luigi being able to fight him even this much and leeching off his magic to do it radiated from him in a way that felt almost physical, heightening Luigi’s fear and distress. … Maybe if Luigi could move his other hand over to help push the knife down… Nope, trying just gave King Boo more leverage to overpower him.

His will broke as soon as the knife touched his flesh; he’d never been very strong. Hot blood gushed around his hand as King Boo pressed the knife in as deep as it would go, going for the jugular because even he knew that was a weak point for the living.

It hurt unbearably so but not with the all-consuming pain he’d have imagined a fatal blow to be. It quickly grew so much worse though as King Boo started dragging it across his neck. It was sharp but apparently not sharp enough; it met a fair bit of resistance that King Boo had to force it through before reaching the other side and finally pulling it out.

‘That should do it.’ Even in his own head, King Boo’s voice sounded distant behind the pain and the blood gushing from his throat as he struggled to breath. His body barely even reacted though; King Boo was in control and he wasn’t going whine about a little bit of pain even if it was bad enough now to make him uncomfortable too.

Blessed blackness ate at Luigi’s vision. He welcomed it but… King Boo didn’t. Pulling on his magic enough to make crown glow brighter, he pushed it away because… he wanted Luigi to suffer for fighting him and leeching off his magic and because being stuck in his body for any length of time was rage inducing. … Luigi could only whimper at that and at the sight of his front as King Boo looked down. There was an awful lot of blood soaking into the once white suit, some of it leaked down his throat too; hot and uncomfortable, drowning him.

Please… please… just… make it stop… please.

‘No. I’m going to tell Mario about this next time I see him. I want a good story to share since I won’t have my painting.’ And he was curious about how long it would take for Luigi to die and what it would feel like for him when it happened.

That was even worse. Please… No amount of begging would get him anywhere though so with the last bit of willpower he had left, he made himself stop; he didn’t want to give King Boo any more satisfaction.

The next… however long was absolute torture. Effected by the body’s weakness as blood poured out of it, King Boo did soon end up lying down on the couch.

All Luigi could do was moan and whimper internally as overtime his entire body grew numb and cold, adding to his discomfort and misery. It wasn’t dignified, he’d rather go out in stubborn defiant silence but that was far too much to ask from himself. Instead he found what small comfort he could in the fact that it annoyed King Boo.

But despite how annoying he found it, King Boo didn’t complain as his rage faded over time. He didn’t even say anything; he could let Luigi have his misery while he was dying. It was a shame but nothing else could be done, better him dead than King Boo trapped forever in his meat suit.

Except… death never came for him. What had to have been hours passed and yet Luigi was still alive and King Boo was still trapped in his body. He even actively tried to escape again, several times, all to no avail. Even using his magic to manually repress Luigi’s erratic off rhythm heartbeat did nothing, it just restarted as soon as he let go of that magic.

‘You don’t seem to be dying,’ King Boo finally broke the silence. ‘I’m not even sure you’re losing blood anymore.’ A lot of blood had soaked into his clothing and the couch beneath him, filling the air with an unpleasant coppery smell. How was it possible for someone to lose that much blood and still be alive, let alone conscious? He wasn’t even really breathing anymore, how was he still alive?

Unable to form a coherent proper reply, Luigi whimpered again. He still felt like he was dying but didn’t seem to be. Why? Probably something to do with King Boo possessing him, right?

‘Yeah, probably. It’s not something I have control of though because I would really prefer you die already.’

Luigi wasn’t in total disagreement. He wanted this torment be over, if that meant death then so be it. But as in all things in his life now, he didn’t have a say in it.

King Bow scowled. ‘We’ll have to figure something else out then.’

Two weeks later

From the car, King Boo glared at E. Gadd’s lab. He really didn’t want to go to him of all people for help but he was the only ghost expert either of them knew of. King Boo had tried to find another one but failed at every turn. He’d even tried killing Luigi a few more ways, none succeeding.

Just go in already. Luigi was tired and frustrated and just wanted this to be over with. He wasn’t even sure if any of the anger he felt was truly his own or if it all came from King Boo. It seemed to get harder to fully separate their emotions with each passing day. It was scary and made them both increasingly desperate to be free of each other.

‘We could try jumping into a pool of lava.’ … What if that destroyed him too though? It would certainly destroy his crown; it helped him channel and even amplified his power a little so he’d prefer not to surrender it unless he absolutely had to. So… E. Gadd it was. His anger about that warred with Luigi’s hope for rescue.

With a disgusted half growl half gag, King Boo exited the car at last. Scowling, he slammed the door shut before starting up the driveway, crossing his arms.

Can I…

‘Yeah, fine, whatever, you can talk to him. I don’t fucking care.’ And he’d rather not ask one of his arch nemeses for help anyway.

Luigi wanted to be fully happy about that but King Boo’s grumpiness made it hard. On the bright side though, said grumpiness was dampened by his feelings. King Boo wasn’t completely in control of this situation anymore.

He rang the doorbell this time. When no one answered after several seconds, King Boo pressed it again. Still nothing though so… King Boo started spamming it. If E. Gadd didn’t answer the door soon, he was going to…

Loud barking came from the other side followed by E. Gadd’s muffled voice shouting, “I’m coming, I’m coming, hold on a sec.”

King Boo would’ve kept ringing the bell out of spite but Luigi asserted a bit of his will and made him stop, pulling his had back to clinch in a fist at his side. Whatever was going on between them allowed Luigi to access some of King Boo’s magic as he’d discovered two weeks earlier and it had only gotten easier to do since then. Which of course made King Boo mad but there was nothing he do about it so he could suck it up.

‘My will’s stronger though. So if it came to a fight for control, I’d win every time.’

Luigi wasn’t sure about that. King Boo wasn’t fully sure of that either though; he was just trying to be intimidating. It would’ve worked a few weeks ago but not anymore, not when Luigi’s normally fragile confidence was bolstered by King Boo’s tendency to be overconfident.

Before King Boo could try to regain some intimidation, the door opened at last. E. Gadd gasped and flinched at the sight of them, before his expression settled into an angry glare. Polterpup stood at his feet, growling.

“You’re back,” E. Gadd said. His face was still a little bruised, considering how long it had to have been, that had to mean it was really bad before. “What do you want this time?”

“I-I’m so sorry professor,” Luigi said, instinctively taking control even as King Boo let him. His voice was a bit rough and it hurt to speak, the wound on his throat was rapidly healing but it was still there. He didn’t care right now though, he needed to apologize.

E. Gadd’s brows’ rose as Polterpup’s growling faltered. “Luigi?”

Luigi nodded as he grasped the doorframe, sagging into it. E. Gadd jumped up and babbled incoherently for a second or two before rushing inside, gesturing for Luigi to follow.

Inside, the monitoring room was still a mess, it was least essential though so of course it would be fixed last. Luigi didn’t have time to follow E. Gadd into the lab proper to see how it was though before E. Gadd was rushing back out of it with a chair.

“Have a seat sonny, you look worn out,” E. Gadd said, particularly vibrating with excitement.

Fighting the strong desire to stay standing that came from King Boo, Luigi sat, sinking into it. He almost felt like he might tear up with exhausted relief; this was the first time he’d been in full control of his body since King Boo had initially possessed him. … If he did start crying King Boo was going to take that control away though because as long as they were stuck in the same vessel together, there would be no physical tears, they were gross.

“How did you do it?” E. Gadd asked. “How did you banish King Boo from your body?” He clarified when Luigi gave him a blank stare.

“Uh… I didn’t.”

“Oh! You wrested control from him then! I didn’t think you had it in you to best him, good job.”

“Uh… I didn’t really do that either.” ‘And couldn’t if you tried.’ Hush! “It’s more uh… he doesn’t want to talk to you so he’s letting me. I… uh… we need your help. He’s kind of stuck in my body and wants out but can’t get out on his own so… here we are.” Should he say anything about whatever their thoughts and emotions were doing? … No, no one needed to know about that unless absolutely necessary. … And Luigi didn’t want to talk about the whole attempted murder, resulting in finding out he apparently couldn’t die now thing either so that was all he was gonna mention for now.

E. Gadd’s excitement died down for a few seconds before his borderline evil scientist grin returned. “Really? I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a phenomenon. To be fair though, I don’t think many ghosts or boos possess the living, especially for so long. We’ll have to look into it. Come along!” He hopped back and dashed back towards the lab proper, clearly expecting Luigi to get up and follow him.

With a tired sigh, Luigi looked down at Polterpup who was staring up at him. “Puppy?” he said, reaching a hand out towards him in an offer for pets. Polterpup snuck closer and sniffed at it hesitantly. He apparently didn’t like whatever he smelled thought as he growled softly and backed up again. … He smelled like boos and King Boo specifically, what more did he expect? … Probably a fair point, especially considering their last interaction.

“Get in here!” E. Gadd said as he poked his head back into the room.

Holding back a groan, Luigi forced himself up and into the lab.

It was still a mess. Luigi flinched at the sight of it, trying not to feel King Boo’s pride over it. It was obviously on its way to being cleaned up and fixed but… it would take a while, most of everything was still little more than rubble.

It being such a wreck will probably make it harder for him to help us. … Oh, King Boo hadn’t considered that. That would’ve been a valid reason not to come and continue to seek other solutions. … It was too late now though. … If he couldn’t help them, King Boo would kill him after all.

No, absolutely not! Luigi wouldn’t allow it. … That battle for control might become a thing after all then.

And I’ll win. They thought at each other in perfect unison; it didn’t even feel like separate thoughts but one shared thought. … Neither of them liked it and would rather never do it again.

‘Stop thinking and feeling the same things am I.’ King Boo growled internally. ‘I want you out of my head.’ Luigi couldn’t agree with that sentiment more with the added bonus of wanting King Boo out of his body.

A loud snap right in their face pulled them both back towards the outside world.

“Look alive sonny, we got tests to run,” E. Gadd said, stepping back. “Lucky for you, one of the first things I fixed is the scanner equipment. I was modified it to keep track of where you were. I lost you for while but then but you came right back to my door. With a few more tweaks to it, I might be able to figure out what’s up with King Boo being stuck in your body.” And knowing that, hopefully be able to fix it. If he couldn’t then… that wasn’t something either of them had any desire to consider.

#My writing #super mario bros #Luigi's Mansion #Booigi #attempted murder #looks like suicide #blood and gore #graphic throat slashing #Poor Luigi #He needs a hug #he doesn't get one here though #maybe later ;)

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years ago

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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.6

When Keith and Shiro left, Lance breathed a sigh of relief. Hunk’s father had to order parts from Platt city, leaving the two brother to spend the night at one of towns inns. Dropping them off, with Hunk, at Hunk’s family garage had been the first relief, the second was dropping Pidge and all her crap off at her house, and third returning home to Blue and a nice bag of blood. Stressed from his lack of sleep and house guests, Lance had drained a whole bag without thinking, something he had done since the time his Mami had had a fall at the home. She scolded him for fussing over her far too much, Lance not wanting to leave her all alone, despite the fact she was only in hospital overnight with a sprained wrist. All his Mami’s friends at her home had been jealous when he’d returned the next day with the biggest bouquet of roses he could buy. Taught to share, each little old lady was given a rose and a kiss on the cheek, more than one aiming for a cheeky kiss on the mouth. His mother all smiles and laughter over the attention he’d received. His Mami had such a great support network there, and he’d really lucked out on her care.

With his hunger quenched, next came cleaning through the house. Shiro and Keith had left their room neat, beds remade and everything else in order too, like they’d never been there to begin with. Not that he was looking, but Lance didn’t find a single strand of stray hair on their pillows. Almost as if he’d housed two ghosts for a evening. Letting his room dry out, and actively avoiding the mess, Lance cleaned through the whole first floor before finally admitting to himself he was procrastinating far too much. Stupid blood. His fatigue had melted away, now he had far too much energy, having already walked into the wall, kitchen table, kitchen counter, accidentally lifted the whole sofa in on go instead of just the end to sweep, and tripped face first over his coffee table. All his movements and actions were amplified by the blood coursing through his system, kind of like how he imagined popping Ecstasy. It was like some cosmic joke really. The worst he could expect was severe flu like symptoms if he accidentally drank bad blood, maybe a day or two of cramping then right back to being stupidly healthy. Bruises, grazes, cuts and scrapes all healed within a day or two, depending on how much blood he’d consumed. His dumb arse had fallen down the stairs before, broken his leg, and taken three whole bags of blood to heal the damn thing. He couldn’t win with his glasses on, and he couldn’t win with them off.

Doing a quick tidy through of the top floor, Lance finally faced his trashed bedroom. What he really needed was a maid... except he didn’t want a stranger in his house, and he didn’t want a stranger in his how’d he touching his things. All his bedding needed to be washed, his mattress needed to be stripped of its waterproof cover then aired once the rain stopped. Blue had had a few “accidents” on his bed, his mattress protector was an idea he could proudly claim as his own. Waking up to entrails between his sheets and seeping into his mattress wasn’t his idea of a good morning, no matter how happy Blue was over her caught mouse. He simply couldn’t find it in his heart to be mad at her, she was only doing what came naturally, and he definitely preferred the mice dead to running around messing up his stuff. Shit, maybe he should just join a coven and make a nuisance of at some other vampires lair... only, he didn’t get along with other vampires for the most part, and shacking up with a werewolf was asking for trouble. He was 44, it was well past time to put his big pants on and deal with things like an adult.

Wednesday was supposed to be a good day. He’d finished one of the family cases he was working on, his new window was installed with a nice new latch, he’d spoiled himself with a rather expensive bottle of red, and he’d assured Hunk that’d contacted Shay to confirm dinner was still on. He’d forgotten until that morning, almost spamming her to explain and apologise. Thankfully Shay was the awesome soul she was, understanding after he’d explained about his broken window.

Then it all went to shit.

Stuck on an “urgent” call, Lance had made a mistake. He’d been talking with a mother trying to get sole custody of her three children, online, offering her his business number so she could call and get some free advice. Not even five minutes in, he could already see why she was finding it difficult. No judge was grant her custody when she was more concerned about the next needle in her arm than she was about her children. On his personal phone he’d already called the police to request a wellness check after he’d explained the situation, but as he waited for a response there, he was stuck with a raving lunatic yelling in his ear about how meth didn’t make her a bad mother. She hadn’t even noticed he’d put himself on silent as he’d made the call. It wasn’t something that left him warm and fuzzy inside, he genuinely wanted to help keep families happy, with an emphasis on what was best for the children involved. This wasn’t his first making this kind of call, but it never got any easier. The mother needed help, she needed someone to reach out their hand and help her, but the system could only do what it had the budget for. He’d had a similar case nearly a decade ago where the mother had attempted to murder her children rather than share custody with the remarried father. She wound up commuting suicide, something that weighed heavily on his mind each time this kind of situation came up. It was nearly an hour later that the police showed up, Lance listening to the whole thing until it finally got too much, and he had to hang up. Snuggling up for some serious cuddles with Blue, the TV played in the background just so he didn’t feel that prang of pain... until it finally became too much. Spurring an unplanned trip over to Platt for some serious hang time with his Mami.

As always, his Mami was happy to see him. She could tell immediately something was weighing heavily on his mind, unable to even fake a smile or politeness to the other residents. Feigning exhaustion, he’d “helped” his Mami back to her room, crawling into bed with her and settling himself with his head on her chest. Sometimes he wondered if he hadn’t developed properly after being turned so young. He didn’t fit the stereotype for his age bracket, nor did he fit the stereotype for a typical 26 year old. His Mami didn’t push for an explanation, instead she stroked his hair and held him tightly. After being turned, he’d suffered screaming nightmares for months. His Mami would climb into bed with him, holding him just like she was now.

Whether she’d forgotten, because as much as Lance was loathe to admit she’d been doing that much more often of late, or whether his brother also felt the need for a spur of a moment visit, but when Luis entered the room, his brother wasn’t pleased at all to see him there. Luis had been the first to cut him off. Maybe because he was the oldest, he headed our first to carve out a life for him and his wife Lisa. Luis knew he had above normal hearing, mumbling about how he was a money draining blood sucker. A bit rich coming from a man who chucked a sook over his inheritance from their papi. For the sake of their mother, Lance just wanted to get along, Luis ultra polite in front of Mami as he fussed over her, making Lance feel he didn’t have a place by her side.

The drive back was depressing, not even his usual playlist managed to make it bearable. Rax was working at Balmeria’s, meaning he had to go in and ask for the pump to be turned on, the little shit further pissing him off as he mocked him for his down mood.

The goddamn cherry on his shit-tastic day was arriving home to find his front door wide open, with none of the lights left on. This was how people ended up murdered. He was going to end up murdered... but after the day he’d had, maybe a little bit of murder would be the best thing for everyone. At least his house was in order if he was to meet his demise... his only regret would be leaving Blue... and Hunk and Pidge... and his Mami. For a dead man, he harboured a lot of regrets over his imminent death. Saying a prayer, he wasn’t sure if God had time for his type, but he hoped that maybe he did. He’d been a good vampire, never drank human blood, never attacked a human, went to church and loved his Mami... now he was off to be murdered and his body dumped in a rolled up carpet somewhere in the back lands of Garrison. What a depressing thought. Fuck it, if he was going to die, his glasses weren’t going down with him.

Leaving his glasses beside the front door mat, Lance stepped into his doom.

“Hello?! Can you please not murder me, I’ve had a shit day!”

Someone was in his house. He could tell from the smell alone there were two somebodies. His skin has prickled with goosebumps at the first sniffs of the scent.

“Look, I already know you’re here!”

Because talking to his murderers was just how he rolled. Following the scent to the living room, he found his room trashed. Great. Just. Fucking. Great. No power to the house meant no security alarm and no security alarm meant no alarmed Pidge, meaning no forthcoming rescue. No forthcoming rescue meant at least his friends would be safe, which was one small mercy.

“We’ve got you, bloodsucker”

Lance raised an eyebrow. A fucking hunter was on his doorstep, well, not literally but he’d been good, he should have had a few more years of safety with his alias. What really made his eyebrow raise was that despite being decked head to toe in black, that voice very clearly belonged to the “Emo Edgelord” himself, sir “I’m too much of a douche to drink your coffee without protest”, Keith. Behind him clad in an equally depressing outfit was Shiro. Talk about bad fucking karma.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“You’re blood sucking scum, and we’ve come to bring your reign of terror to an end”

Holy fuck, Keith must have pop-cultured hard. The kid sounded like he was straight out the lowest budget slasher movie known to man kind. Ignorance was bliss?

“I’m not quite sure I know what you’re on about...”

“Shut up!”

“Look, dude. Take a chill pill. How about we talk? Look, the names Lance. I’m a lawyer, specialising in family law”

“You mean you rip innocent families apart! You gain access to their children and bleed them dry!”

“Um, no?”

“Don’t lie to me! I know you’re kind. What happened to your friends? What did you do to Hunk and Pidge?!”

What was he supposed to have done with them...?... right. Vampire. Dah... murderer, yep, right... pffft... He could laugh at how serious Keith was being if it wasn’t for the fact that they were indeed there to murder him

“They’re at home? I dropped Hunk off with, so maybe I should be asking what you did to him?”

“Don’t you turn this back on me, you abomination”

Lance crossed his arms in offence. He’d made them breakfast, they should be a little more appreciative

“I didn’t ask to be like this”

“So you admit it!”

Shiro obviously hadn’t trained Keith about how adults used their inside voices

“Stop yelling at me! Inside voice is just fine”

“Shiro, he knows us. He’s admitted what he is. It doesn’t deserve to walk this earth!”

“Keith...”

“Fuck this!”

Again with the yelling. Poor Blue was going to be scared with all the yelling

“So we can’t sit down and discuss this?”

“As Blades of Marmora, hunters of unwanted trash, our sworn duty is to destroy beasts like you! The holiest hunters of the Vatican, your blood will stain our blades!”

“My what now?”

“We saw your fridge of blood!”

Lance was starting to feel second hand embarrassment for Keith. He took stupid to a whole other level. He had the disadvantage when it came to the house layout, he had the disadvantage of being human, and he had the disadvantage of thinking with his anger and not his head

“Hurrah. I get blood packs from Platt”

Keith let out an angry snarl, lip raised... as if that could possibly be threatening?

“I’m going to kill you, before you take more victims!”

Keith threw himself towards Lance, twin blades sliding from his from his suit into his hands, silver glinting as Keith’s hands wrapped around the handles

“Whoa! Man, wait!”

Leaping back, Lance leapt too far, snacking his back hard against the hallway wall

“Scum sucker!”

“Time out!”

“Die!”

Lance had time to think “Oh, shit!”, as he ducked and rolled, wincing as the blades were embedded into the plasterboard wall

“Dude! My house!”

Leaping backwards into the living room, Shiro seemed pretty damn content watching Keith attempt to murder him

“Shut up!”

“Or we could talk?”

Keith snarled at him again, Lance really didn’t want to hurt the idiot. He was human... with a flick of Lance’s wrist he could snap Keith’s neck by accident. Holding his hands up, he backed up

“Would you just calm down before you destroy more of my house?”

The backs of his legs hit something, Lance tripping backwards like a moron

“Whaaaa...!”

Keith lunged forward, blades coming down at Lance’s face. With the most manliness of screams, Lance flinched at his impending death

“Keith!”

Called by the man formally known as his brother, Shiro, Keith paused. Lance laying there like a moron

“Let me do this!”

“Wait a second, he’s not fighting back”

“Because he knows it’s pointless!”

Well, if it was that pointless, Keith didn’t need his blades. Wrapping his hands around the blade, he pulled both from him Keith’s grip, throwing them blindly behind him

“Excuse me, I am right here! Why...”

“Oh, shut the fuck up!”

Dumb with anger, Keith swung at his face, hitting him fairly in his open mouth.

Lance didn’t know who was more horrified. Him for being punched in the mouth, or Keith who’d cut his damn hand on Lance’s fangs. As the blood on his teeth touched his tongue, Lance’s eyes widened in horror. He’d never... he’d never drank from a human before... he... it was... so fresh... and... god, what was that fucking awful after taste?

“What the fuck?! He bit me!”

“Me?! You punched me in the mouth!”

And chipped his goddamn tooth by the feel of it. Stumbling back, Keith fell back onto his arse, hand clamped around the wrist of his bleeding left hand. Shiro rushed to his brother

“Keith! Hold on, you’re going to be okay”

“He bit me! I can’t... I can’t turn... I can’t be one of those”

“You’re going to be okay...”

Panicked enough to vomit, Keith threw up next to himself

“I don’t feel too well”

“Keith!”

Keith’s eyes rolled back, Lance spitting out the blood in his mouth in disgust

“Yuck. What the hell is that?!”

God... it tasted... like metal? But not the taste of blood... it was like he’d sucked on a fishing weight, his nose firmly wrinkled in disgust

“What did you do to him?”

“Nothing! He punched me in the mouth”

Tapping Keith’s face, Shiro tried to rouse his brother... that wasn’t his brother...?

“Keith? Keith, come on, it’s Shiro...”

So this wasn’t an act? Keith wasn’t faking everything to lure him close?

“Is... is he okay?”

“Does he fucking look okay?”

Shiro was panicked. Ripping his mask off, the man’s face was ashen. For fuck’s sake

“Take his mask off properly, let him get some air”

Shiro did as Lance said, Lance cautiously climbing off the ruins of his coffee table and edging closer. With the mask off, he could smell sickness on Keith

“Somethings wrong with him”

“You fucking bit him!”

It was hardly Lance’s fault that the Vatican couldn’t design a suit that withstood his teeth

“No... wait, his blood tasted strange. What breed is he?”

“What do you mean, “what breed?”, he’s human!”

“If he’s human, his blood wouldn’t have tasted like shit”

Shiro let out a groan, Lance shying back as Shiro started rifling through Keith’s pockets before drawing out a spent syringe

“That idiot!”

“What? What is it?”

“Silver concentrate... with mercury. He must have injected himself”

What a fucking tool. Normal, smart, people didn’t go around injecting themselves with silver! Let alone fucking mercury! The idiot had gone and poisoned himself

“Well do something!”

“I can’t! It’s in his bloodstream!”

Holy fucking shit. Nope. No way. He wasn’t having a damn hunter die in his living room

“Get out the way”

“Wha-...”

“Jesus Christ, fucking move”

Taking just a smidge or revenge, Lance tore Keith’s suit open, looking for the damn injection point. Shiro’s fingers moved to his own blade, at which Lance cast him a very disappointed look. He was obviously about to do something very goddamn stupid for sake of this dumbarse dead beat. Letting his eyes roam Keith’s body, he found the pinprick on his neck, able to see the slight amount of residue built up around the marking

“Go get me a bucket!”

“What?”

“Or a bowl! Just hurry up!”

Shiro scampered off, Lance closing his eyes and saying a prayer. He’d never fed off a living human before, and thanks to Keith, he was going to for the first time in 36 years. 44 years if he was being technical. Shit. He was nervous as hell. The one taboo he’d never broken. For this... Lance’s stomach clenched, he’d been nervous about plenty of things, but this was whole other level nerves. Every cruel thing ever directed at him for being what he was... but Keith had gone and poisoned himself. Cringing, Lance sank his teeth into Keith’s neck, the taste in his mouth was rancid, he wanted to throw it back up and his damn mouth felt tingly. Pulling back, cheeks bludging, Lance tried not to spit out the disgusting sludge in his mouth. When Shiro finally came running back in, Lance ended up spitting blood all over him and not the bowl

“You drank his blood?!”

Ignoring Shiro, Lance forced himself to bite back into Keith’s neck, he couldn’t take another mouthful after this, his mouth would burn and blister, opening sores. Drinking quickly, he pulled back, spitting into the bowl this time

“What are you doing?!”

Letting himself drop back onto his arse, Lance wiped his lips with the back of his hand. His body didn’t know what to do. Blood was supposed to be good... it was good. It was fresh... soooo fucking fresh... but revolting... and the way Keith’s flesh slid up his teeth... Clenching his fists, Lance forced a breath down to calm himself down, before spitting again. Yuck

“What did you do to my brother?!”

Shiro sounded like the worlds most disappointed father. No wonder Keith was such an arsehole, that tone went right through Lance’s heart. Being punched in the face would be kinder

“I sucked out what I could... I think I did it right... I’ve never... I’ve never even drunk from a human before in my life... I couldn’t... he... he could have died... why couldn’t we talk?”

Shiro’s expression shifted to something Lance couldn’t read... No, more like he didn’t want to read the surprise and pain all over Shiro’s face at his shocked babbling

“You...”

Lance was getting teary now, disgusted with himself. He was covered in Keith’s blood. Human blood...

“Take him to the bedroom, use whatever you need... I... can’t do this”

#vld au #klance #vampire Lance #mpreg #mentions in the future #ashrathe rose #on ao3

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pikashadow · 4 years ago

Text

Approaching That Summer Sky a Diamond no Ace fanfiction

Rating: T

Pairing: Sawamura/Narumiya (Established Relationship)

Words: 9,032

Plot: Mei finds out from Itsuki that Eijun became the ace. And he isn't pleased. In other news, Eijun decides he's alright with letting the rest of his team (and the public) know about their relationship

Set after the summer tournament opening ceremony. To be more specific, this takes place sometime after Itsuki tells Mei about Eijun becoming the ace during Act II Chapter 143 of the manga and episode 46 of the anime.

A.N.: Recently, I’ve been getting back into Daiya no A. And after watching Eijun become the ace for the nth time, a plot bunny came to me. Which is great because we need more Eijun and Mei interactions.

This is set after the summer tournament opening ceremony. To be more specific, this takes place sometime after Itsuki tells Mei about Eijun becoming the ace during Act II Chapter 143 of the manga and episode 46 of the anime.

This is part two of my Summer Sky series, but you don’t need to read the first part to read this part.

I hope y’all enjoy it!

Mei couldn’t believe the nerve of his boyfriend.

He strode around the stadium, dark blue eyes on the lookout for Seidou colors.

And their idiot of an ace.

He couldn’t believe that idiot was forcing him to look for him. Knowing him as well as he did, though, he knew it was on purpose.

His boyfriend was extremely competitive and hated losing to him. He always found such joy whenever he did win against him. And while it annoyed him that he would lose, it didn’t bother him as much as it used to. At least in person or over video call. Because then he would at least get to see his boyfriend’s cute happy face. Over text was still annoying (especially when he would just spam emoticons and ignore any attempts to continue the conversation).

Thankfully, people could tell he was in a foul mood, steering clear of him and leaving enough room for him to walk without bumping into anyone or having to step around someone.

He ignored the whispers and the other teams’ gazes, focused on finding Seidou’s ace.

A couple of brave (or stupid) players spoke in a normal tone, his ears pricking up when they said his name.

“Oi, isn’t that Inashiro’s Narumiya Mei?”

“Yeah, it’s weird seeing him without his teammates. I wonder where they are.”

“More importantly, I feel sorry for the person who angered him. He looks ready to kill.”

He almost snorted.

What an exaggeration.

While he couldn’t harm Seidou’s ace (not that he planned on it in the first place), he still planned on giving him an earful.

Because what the hell?

Seidou’s ace, his boyfriend, didn’t even tell him he became the ace.

Didn’t he think even a little bit that he would like to know?

(Especially after what happened during the spring tournament. Did he forget about how he encouraged him?)

He had of course heard about the game with Hakuryuu, unable to stop the warmth and… pride when his boyfriend personally told him the news himself.

(… Not that he said anything to the person himself. Instead, after congratulating him, he warned him not to let it go to his head, mentioning how one great practice game didn’t mean he would become the ace. And either he took the warning to heart (he doubted it) or something else happened, but he kept his feet on the ground.)

And after hearing all about the practice games they won, he could safely assume he had been doing well.

But becoming the ace?

What had happened for him to suddenly become the ace?

And why didn’t he tell him anything?

With the summer tournament starting, they wouldn’t get to meet up as often. So unfortunately, that meant he had to track down his terrible boyfriend before they left.

The only good thing was that no one dared bother him as he continued to look. Which was good (and very wise). He refused to waste his time on people he didn’t even know. Or care about.

Fortunately, it didn’t take long to spot the unforgettable Seidou uniforms. And a very familiar back with the unmistakable number one on his jersey.

(At first, he almost missed him. Seidou’s ace was rarely quiet, and because of that, it was easy to find him wherever he was. If it wasn’t for that back, he would’ve almost walked past them.)

As he walked closer, he heard a familiar laugh.

… Great. Kazuya’s there.

He couldn’t hear whatever Kazuya was talking about, but it seemed he finished whatever he wanted to say to the team, already turning around to speak to someone else.

Not that he cared if he interrupted whatever Kazuya was talking about, but if he finished, it would make things easier.

A few Seidou players he didn’t recognize spotted him, their eyes widening. But before they could speak up and possibly warn their ace, he reached out, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck.

Eijun squawked, almost losing his balance as someone grabbed him and pulled him toward them. He started struggling, trying to get them to let go.

And while the rest of Seidou were no doubt used to him squawking, they all turned to look at him, various degrees of surprise and shock on their faces once they registered his presence.

“Narumiya Mei?”

Eijun froze at the mention of his name, his struggling starting anew as he tried to twist his head and look at him. “Mei? What are you doing here?”

Belatedly, he realized his mistake, freezing and watching as his teammates’ eyes widened even more (if possible).

And while Mei would normally take great pleasure in their reactions, they (unfortunately) didn’t have time for this. He couldn’t help but smirk in their direction, though, amused as most of them glared at him.

(He could’ve sworn he heard a few people growling, but it was probably just his imagination.)

He pulled Eijun closer, ignoring his noticeably weak protests before looking over at Kazuya. “I’m stealing him for a bit.”

Not bothering to wait for a response, he already turned away, pulling Eijun with him. Eijun was still protesting at the way he held him, but he followed obediently, shooting his teammates a half guilty and half embarrassed look.

“Don’t take too long. And make sure to give him back,” Kazuya said, smirking that all too familiar (and annoying) knowing smirk of his.

He waved flippantly with his free hand, not in the mood to deal with him.

Eijun, on the other hand, glared at him. “We know that, Cap! We’ll—” His eyes widened, belatedly realizing what he was saying and cut himself off. “I-I mean, I’ll be back soon.”

Much to his irritation, Miyuki looked way too amused at his slipup. “Didn’t know you two were that close, Sawamura.” He snickered, giving him another knowing smirk.

But before Eijun could respond, Mei tugged him sharply, causing him to let out a pained yelp. It was awkward with the way Mei held him, but he managed to turn his head enough so he could give him a glare.

“Come on, Eijun. We don’t have time for this.” Mei looked over his shoulder, finally allowing Eijun to see his face.

Eijun almost flinched at seeing his dark blue eyes and scowl. So it wasn’t his imagination that his boyfriend sounded angry? He quickly racked his brain, wondering what he did to anger him but drew a blank. Besides not texting him as much recently, he couldn’t think of anything.

And knowing Mei as well as he did, he knew Mei wasn’t angry about the texting.

But then why?

Why was he angry with him?

He would apologize, but he didn’t even know what he did.

But before he could even attempt at asking him, Mei pulled him along, already walking away and ignoring the sudden vocal protests from his teammates.

Contrary to what Cap thought, he wasn’t hiding his relationship with Mei from the rest of his teammates. He just… never found a good time to tell them. He liked to comfort himself with the thought that if his teammates asked, he would’ve told them the truth.

As he watched them react now, though, he found himself wishing he could’ve told them earlier.

Worse, his only ally in this situation was Miyuki freaking Kazuya.

That guy was definitely enjoying this. And he would no doubt tell the rest of the team about his relationship with Mei.

He groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

As Mei frequently reminded him, he wasn’t the best liar. And he was planning on telling them about it anyway. So really, it was no big deal.

But knowing who he had as an ally made him dread the upcoming conversation.

ZZZ

It didn’t take long for the rest of Seidou to turn to Kazuya, multiple people loudly protesting at what happened and demanding an explanation.

(Because Sawamura and Narumiya? What the hell? When did this happen? Would their ace be alright?)

Kazuya tried keeping a straight face as he raised a hand, asking them to quiet down.

But Kuramochi glaring at him made him realize he had failed.

“What the hell, Miyuki?! Why did you let Narumiya Mei kidnap Sawamura?”

He almost snickered, but miraculously, he stopped himself from doing so. He couldn’t stop the amused smirk from appearing, though. “Calm down. Sawamura will be alright.”

But that only infuriated Kuramochi more (if possible). “Stop enjoying this! This is serious! Shouldn’t we do something?”

This time, he snorted, unable to help it at the ridiculousness of the situation. “He’ll be fine.” He clicked his tongue as he noticed Kuramochi and a few others looking in the direction they left, as though about to chase after them. “Don’t go after them.”

Some of his teammates froze, not wanting to annoy him further.

Kuramochi turned his head to look at him, still glaring. “How do you know he’ll be alright?”

Kazuya resisted the urge to sigh. So much for enjoying the situation.

But before he answered, an idea came to him, causing him to almost smirk.

If he played his cards right, he would enjoy a much different (but still very entertaining) show.

“Those two are close friends,” he said, barely stopping himself from smirking at how everyone’s eyes widened in unison.

“Those two? Close friends? Sure didn’t seem like it,” Kuramochi grumbled. He couldn’t say he was too surprised (because of course Sawamura managed to somehow befriend Narumiya Mei of all people). He just wished his roommate had told him about it himself, feeling annoyed Miyuki knew about it before him.

Haruichi hummed thoughtfully, causing everyone to look at him. “It makes sense, though.”

“What does?”

Haruichi frowned, remembering what happened during the spring tournament. “During the Inashiro and Teitou game, he kept looking up at us. I thought I was imagining things at the time, so I didn’t think too much about it. But now I understand. He was looking for Eijun-kun.”

What he didn’t tell them was how Eijun had looked after the game as he talked about an ace being cool.

Was Eijun-kun talking about Narumiya-san?

Kazuya almost snickered as everyone else let out understanding noises. He remembered thinking Mei was being a little too obvious (even for someone like him), causing him to shake his head in amusement.

But before he could relax, Kuramochi frowned, shooting him a suspicious look. “Why do you know about this and we don’t?”

Thankfully, he had an explanation ready. “He accidentally told me one day. You know him. He’s bad at keeping secrets. If you had asked him about it, he would’ve told you the truth.”

(He wasn’t lying, but he wasn’t telling the whole truth either.)

Kuramochi pursed his lips, not mentioning how they hadn’t even heard about this until now. “So?”

Being the guy that Kazuya was, he only raised his eyebrows. “So what?”

Kuramochi felt his eye twitch, resisting the urge to grab their sorry excuse for a captain and shake him like Sawamura used to. “How did they become so close? They’re enemies!”

Everyone else nodded, still a little surprised to hear about Sawamura’s relationship with Narumiya Mei but also eager to hear more about it.

But Kazuya only shook his head, looking amused as most of them glared at him. “That’s his business. I’ll let him tell you the details.”

“You don’t normally care about that sort of thing,” Kuramochi pointed out, looking suspicious.

Kazuya shrugged, unbothered by his suspicion. “What can I say? I turned over a new leaf.”

“Liar!”

He almost snickered at the immediate response, knowing no one would believe that. “I’m serious. If you want to know, you have to ask him yourself.” He smirked, amused. “And this way, we’ll all get to watch him squirm together.”

“… You really are the worst.”

He laughed, grinning. “Thank you!”

“It wasn’t a compliment!”

ZZZ

Eijun knew he could be oblivious and very dense at times.

But he would need to be blind to miss the way everyone stared at them.

They must be quite the sight.

Mei had gotten tired of holding him by the scruff of his neck, now holding the back of his jersey. He ended up half pulling and half dragging him (which surprised him because he didn’t know he was this strong. He wasn’t this strong the last time they met. He was both excited and nervous to see how it affected his pitching. … Come to think of it, Cap did say he didn’t have any weaknesses).

By this point, he had stopped struggling, allowing Mei to do what he wanted. He hadn’t said anything since they walked away from his teammates, so he could safely assume Mei was waiting until they were alone to start talking.

Which suited him just fine.

Their relationship was their business. No one else needed to know about it.

He suddenly felt grateful for his understanding boyfriend.

… Well, it wasn’t understanding so much as not caring what people thought. Mei had already told his teammates about their relationship and would’ve told everyone here if given the choice. The only reason Mei hadn’t done anything to out their relationship a while ago was because of him.

He felt bad for making him wait, but he had wanted to wait until he at least became the ace. Mei wouldn’t care what people thought about their relationship, but he knew it would’ve been much worse if they had outed their relationship last year. At least now, they were somewhat equal. Some people would disagree, of course, but he found he didn’t care. As long as they didn’t interfere with their relationship, he could care less what people thought.

“Oi, isn’t that Narumiya Mei?”

“Yeah, and he’s with Seidou’s ace!”

“Oh, that loud guy, right? They must have a cozy relationship.”

Eijun let out a surprised noise as Mei stopped walking, unable to stop himself from gaping as he promptly let go of him. He stumbled, briefly losing his balance without his support.

But Mei was there in a flash (was he always that fast?), easily stepping into his personal space to hold him up and provide support until he could stand up straight without it.

He opened his mouth to thank him, but Mei quickly turned around, only pausing to grab his wrist and continue walking as if nothing happened.

He blinked a few times, looking behind him at where they were a moment ago, confused.

… What just happened?

While he certainly felt grateful (and happy) to follow Mei on his own feet rather than being dragged along, he couldn’t help but feel baffled as to why it happened.

Wasn’t Mei still angry with him?

Maybe it was because those players were talking about them?

… No.

That was impossible.

Mei didn’t care what people thought. And this time was probably no different.

Maybe he got tired of dragging him and thought it was faster if he let him walk?

He looked back at Mei, nodding to himself.

Now that sounded more like him.

A few minutes later, they finally found a spot unoccupied near the northern exit of the stadium. Mei led them over to a pillar almost covered in shadows, only letting go when he felt satisfied no one would give them a second glance.

Eijun thought Mei would want to greet him (especially since they couldn’t do it in front of his teammates), but to his surprise, Mei created some distance between them, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He stayed close enough that he could reach out and touch him if he wanted, but when he tried reaching out, his boyfriend gave him a warning look, causing him to hastily drop his hand.

All they could hear was the buzzing of the cicadas in the trees around them.

… He couldn’t wait anymore.

“Why are you angry?” he blurted. And not happy.

Normally, Mei would be almost annoyingly happy to see him. His whole face would light up, that cheeky grin Eijun both liked and disliked appearing on his face as he teased him about being happy to see him. His bright blue eyes would sparkle with happiness and a bit of mischief.

He loved seeing Mei look happy. Especially when he was the cause of it.

It had been a while since he last saw it in person and not over a video call. If he were honest, he didn’t even think he would get to meet Mei today. So he was already happy Mei came looking for him.

He didn’t know what he did to anger him. He wanted to apologize for whatever he did so he could see his happy face.

Mei raised his eyebrows, as if surprised he even asked. “Why?” he echoed mockingly, finally uncrossing his arms. But his hands quickly formed fists at his sides, Eijun wishing he could reach out and hold them so he didn’t hurt himself. “You don’t know?”

When Eijun only gave him a blank look, he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Of course you don’t.” Eijun frowned, wondering if that was an insult. But before he could ask, Mei jabbed his chest with a finger. “Don’t you have something to tell me? Something important?”

If it were any other occasion, Mei would’ve laughed at his baffled look.

He shook his head, almost snorting. “You’re unbelievable.”

… Now that sounded like an insult.

“Look, I don’t understand what you’re trying to say. Stop beating around the bush, and just tell me!” Eijun huffed, frustrated.

All he wanted was to apologize so they could enjoy the rest of their time together. Mei had to know they didn’t have a lot of time left.

Why couldn’t he just tell him? Was that so hard?

Looking unfazed by his visible frustration, Mei reached out, pulling on the back of his jersey.

… Huh?

Why was he pulling on his jersey?

Just as he was about to ask, Mei huffed, pointing to his back. He frowned, not understanding why he pointed at his back. The back of his jersey only had his number…

His eyes widened, his mouth forming an O as realization dawned on him.

Mei gave him a scornful look, no doubt recognizing the reaction. “Is there something you want to tell me, Seidou’s ace?”

Eijun smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “So that’s what this is about.”

“You didn’t think I would like to know that information?”

Eijun winced at his cold tone and icy glare. It wasn’t his first time on the receiving end of Mei’s icy glare, but he couldn’t help but feel nervous. “This is all a huge misunderstanding—”

“Don’t give me that!”

Eijun shrank back, startled by his raised voice.

“I had to hear the news from Itsuki. You were supposed to be the one who told me that news. Not him!” Mei’s fists trembled by his sides, his normally bright blue eyes a dark blue. Eijun felt his heart clench at the noticeable hurt in his boyfriend’s voice, watching as his shoulders shook. He felt awful. “You’re lucky I heard it from him and not from the gossip going around or I’d—”

Eijun couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around his back. “I’m sorry!”

Mei froze at the contact, blinking as he belatedly registered the apology. “Eh?”

If it were any other occasion, Eijun would tease him for his less than eloquent response.

“I said I’m sorry,” he murmured, pulling back. But before he could completely let go, his boyfriend’s arms wrapped around his back, keeping him close and almost causing a smile to form on his face. “I wanted to surprise you,” he admitted. “I knew there was a chance of us meeting today, and I thought it would be great to surprise you with the news.”

He laughed humorlessly. “I forgot that I’m not in Nagano. And that people talk.” He pulled back enough so Mei could see the sincerity in his eyes. “I… wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Mei wanted to sigh. Because that was so Eijun.

He even wanted to protest that Eijun didn’t hurt him and that he only angered him.

But instead he shook his head, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Idiot,” he scolded. There was no heat in his words, though. Eijun gave him another sheepish smile, his smile turning into his normal one at the sight of fond bright blue eyes.

“You didn’t need to do that. I would’ve been happy if you had just texted me the news,” Mei said, giving him an amused look.

To his amusement, Eijun only nodded his head enthusiastically. “This Sawamura Eijun shall endeavor to remember that.”

Mei laughed. It was a bright and happy laugh (his real laugh), causing warmth to grow inside his chest and a goofy smile to appear on his face.

He felt happy (and smug) that only he could make him laugh like that.

Mei let go with one arm to poke him in the nose, smiling as Eijun only blinked. “You silly boy. I keep telling you that you don’t need to be so formal with me.”

“But you’re the one who keeps reminding me that I need to speak to you with more respect,” Eijun pointed out, grinning devilishly.

“And yet you never do it,” Mei said, raising his eyebrows.

Eijun shrugged. “Oops.” He laughed at Mei’s mock insulted look.

A thought came to him, causing his mouth to open.

Only to yelp as Mei jabbed him in his ribs with his index fingers.

“Ow! What did you do that for?”

Mei huffed. His boyfriend was definitely spending too much time with Kazuya.

… And he would spend even more time with him now that he became the ace.

Damn it.

“Stop being cheeky. It doesn’t suit you.”

But instead of looking insulted, Eijun only smiled, amused. “How could I forget? Being cheeky is your thing.”

Mei smirked, looking proud. “Exactly!”

“So wouldn’t you say that I learned from the best?”

Mei laughed, eyes happy and soft. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but Eijun caught him off guard. He wasn’t normally this playful. Or willing to feed his ego. “What’s with you? You’re not normally like this.”

Eijun gasped, eyes gleaming mischievously. “What, you don’t want me to act like you? I’m shocked!”

“Shut it, you. You know what I mean.”

Eijun laughed. And it wasn’t his signature, loud laugh either. It was a much softer and happy laugh. “Does this mean you forgive me?”

Despite having seen it countless times before, Mei almost had to look away at his hopeful look. He was too cute.

… And it almost made him forget he was angry in the first place.

He frowned, lips twitching and threatening to burst into a smile. “… I suppose.”

Eijun accidentally let out a loud cheer, hugging him once more. “Thank you! I really am sorry. I’ll try not to do it again.”

“Idiot. Your voice is too loud. Someone will hear you,” Mei scolded. But just like earlier, there was no heat in it.

“… Bet you would like that,” Eijun murmured into his uniform.

“What was that?”

Eijun pulled away, shaking his head and giving him an innocent smile. “It’s nothing.”

Mei almost snorted at the obvious lie, giving him an unconvinced look. “Like I believe that.” He was about to press for more details, but his boyfriend reached out with one hand, touching his shoulder.

His lips twitched once more as Eijun gave him an expectant look. Knowing him as well as he did, he was familiar with that look.

An idea came to him, causing him to almost smirk.

He leaned in, kissing him.

But he couldn’t help but tease him, purposely avoiding his lips and kissing his cheek instead.

Pulling back, he snickered as Eijun glared at him. “So impatient,” he murmured, an impish gleam in his eyes. “I thought you liked all my kisses. No matter where they end up.”

And before a red faced Eijun could yell at him, he leaned in once more and finally gave him what he wanted by kissing his lips.

Eijun froze briefly at the contact before quickly relaxing, pressing himself further into his embrace.

The kiss was gentle and innocent.

Much to his disappointment, the kiss didn’t last long, his boyfriend already pulling away from him.

Mei gave him an amused look at the pout on his face. He waited purposely for a few moments before deciding one kiss wasn’t enough and leaned back in.

Eijun closed his eyes, tightening his grip on his uniform as he responded.

Mei’s lips tasted sweet, causing him to wonder if he had chewed some gum earlier.

It was a long moment before Mei pulled away, an amused smirk on his face as Eijun chased after his lips.

He gave in, allowing him to kiss him.

Eijun briefly remembered where they were, but it quickly disappeared as the kiss turned more passionate. He responded eagerly, trying to match the pace and not wanting to lose.

He shivered as he felt fingers brushing his sensitive sides, somehow feeling the touch through his uniform. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel that irritatingly familiar smirk on his face, causing him to huff into the kiss.

It was unfair how much Mei’s touches affected him. They’ve been dating for a while now, and for some reason, he thought his body would be accustomed to his touches by now.

The only good thing was that Mei was affected by his touches as much as he was by his.

As they pulled away to take a breather, Eijun couldn’t stop himself from leaning in and kissing every inch of his face that he could reach.

… Which was easy since he was taller than his boyfriend (by a centimeter and only a centimeter he liked to remind him, only amusing him further).

Mei stood still as he showed his love, unable to stop himself from laughing as he kissed both his cheeks, nose, and forehead in quick succession.

When it didn’t look like he was going to stop anytime soon, he reached up to his hair and pulled a little, causing him to pause and look at him.

“While I enjoy your attention,” Mei said, smirking as Eijun pouted. “Have you forgotten where we are?”

They were hidden by the pillar, and as long as someone didn’t look too closely, they wouldn’t spot them. But there was always a chance someone could see them.

Eijun pulled away, frowning at the reminder and Mei stopping him. “I thought that’s why you dragged me over here in the first place!” he whined.

Mei grinned, combing his hands through his hair fondly. “I’m just reminding you not to get carried away.” He snickered as Eijun grumbled about not getting carried away, watching as the other pitcher closed his eyes at the gentle touch.

“I thought you didn’t want to tell people about us.”

Eijun reluctantly opened his eyes, remembering what happened earlier. And before he could think too much about it, his mouth opened impulsively. “Is that what happened earlier?” he blurted.

Mei’s eyes widened before looking away from him with a huff. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Eijun couldn’t stop the disappointed whine from escaping as he stopped combing his hair and let go. “Don’t give me that. You were content dragging me until those guys spoke up.” He watched him for a reaction, but the only thing Mei did was shrug. “I thought you didn’t care what people thought.” His voice was soft and confused, almost sounding concerned.

Mei looked back at him, chin tilted condescendingly. “I don’t.”

“Then why?”

But to his confusion, Mei only gave him an unreadable look.

He let out a huff of his own, frustrated he wouldn’t talk to him. “I… You’re so… Why can’t you just—”

“You do, though.”

Eijun blinked a few times, confused. “Eh?”

Mei glared mutinously, reluctantly allowing him to hold his hands. “I don’t care. But you do, though.”

Eijun’s eyes widened, his mouth opening. “You… You did it for me?” His voice was impossibly soft. He wouldn’t be surprised if Mei didn’t hear him.

“… You heard what they said,” Mei grumbled, somehow hearing him. His ears reddened as Eijun continued staring at him. “I don’t want to taint your reputation. Especially now that you’re the ace.”

To his irritation, Eijun only snorted, giving him an incredulous look. “As if you’ve done anything that bad.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “Unless it’s something I haven’t heard about.”

Mei scowled at his expectant look, tempted to jab him in the ribs again. “I don’t have anything to tell you.”

Eijun nodded, as if that made sense. “There you go. See? That wasn’t too hard, was it?”

Mei was about to scold him for patronizing him. But then he belatedly registered what he wasn’t saying. “You mean… you’re alright with letting people know?” he asked slowly.

Eijun shrugged. “As long as they don’t interfere with our relationship, I don’t care what they think.”

Mei couldn’t help but gape at him for a couple of moments. When did he start thinking that? He didn’t tell him anything. “What changed?” he asked, curious.

“… I wanted to wait until I became the ace. People will still talk regardless, but I thought it might make things easier.” Eijun smiled sheepishly.

Now Mei was the one confused. “Easier?”

Eijun let go of his hands to hold up his index fingers. “Before, you were the ace.” He indicated one of his fingers by wiggling it slightly. “While I was just a reserve pitcher. Not to mention a first year.” He wiggled his other finger. “But now, I’m the ace and a second year” -he wiggled one finger- “and you’re the ace.” He wiggled his other finger one last time before smiling proudly.

Mei blinked a few times, trying to decide whether what just happened was adorable or confusing. Or both. Only Eijun could do this to him. “… So what you’re saying is that the attention won’t be as bad since we’re equal in standing?”

Eijun beamed, pointing at him with one finger. “Exactly!”

“… You do realize that I’m still a year older than you, right?”

Eijun frowned at him, placing his hands on his hips. “I wasn’t talking about age. I was talking about experience.” When Mei only gave him a blank look, he hummed, wondering how to explain it. “As a first year, no one knows you that well. It probably would’ve been weird if people found out I was dating you last year. But now, people have heard of me. And they’re starting to hear more about me now that I became the ace.”

He paused, laughing his signature (and obnoxious) laughs. “And they’ll continue to talk about me when I pitch well during the tournament.”

Mei shook his head, rolling his eyes. “But I still outrank you when it comes to experience.” And I’m still the king.

Eijun huffed, pointing at him again, as if he somehow read his mind. “That isn’t important right now.”

Mei felt his lips twitch as he glared at him. “I thought we were talking about experience.”

“Ah! Exposure! That’s the word I was looking for,” Eijun said, looking at him triumphantly.

Mei laughed hard, giving him an amused look. “How did you mess that up?” Chuckles escaped his mouth as Eijun glared at him.

“S-Shut up! I didn’t mean to!”

“Let’s go back to what we were talking about,” Mei suggested, but his voice still sounded amused, causing him to feel irritated.

“Fine! But stop sounding so amused, jerk!”

“… Impossible.” Mei snickered as he gave him another dirty look. “I’ve still had more exposure than you.”

Eijun growled, tempted to hit him. “But every little bit helps! Besides, I’m not saying that we have to go out there right now and declare our relationship to everyone.”

“Oh? And here I thought you don’t care what they think.”

Eijun stomped his foot, agitated. “I don’t!” He paused before avoiding eye contact. “I don’t care. But I care what they think of you. What if they badmouth you?”

Mei scoffed. “I don’t care. And why exactly would they badmouth me?”

Eijun looked strangely hesitant, which was a rare occurrence with him.

“You could have anyone you wanted. And yet you chose me.”

He couldn’t stop himself from snorting, feeling relieved as Eijun met his eyes once more. “I don’t care what anyone thinks,” he repeated, placing his hands on his hips. “It’s not their decision who I end up with. I chose you because I like you. And I don’t plan on leaving you anytime soon.” Eijun beamed at him, no longer looking worried. “Even if you’re a bit of an idiot at times and drive me crazy.”

Eijun squawked, pointing at him. “You didn’t need to add that last part!”

Mei snickered, reaching out and grabbing his hands. “It’s true, though,” he said cheekily. When Eijun only huffed, he rubbed his thumbs on his knuckles tenderly. “Speaking of letting people know… Do your teammates even know about us?”

Eijun reddened, giving him a sheepish smile. “Not yet. I meant to tell them before now, but I could never find the right timing.”

Mei almost laughed, shaking his head fondly. “You and your timing.” He had shouted about how the timing had to be right when he confessed, too.

(… And yet, he still chose the worst possible timing to confess, a fact he still liked teasing him over.)

“I think they know now, though.”

Mei furrowed his eyebrows. “Because of me?”

“No!” Eijun shouted impulsively, causing him to wince at the volume. “… Sorry. I didn’t mean to shout. I think Cap told them after we left,” he continued in a softer voice.

Mei pursed his lips at the mention of Kazuya. “Oh, that’s right. He’s the only one who knows on your team.” While it was helpful to have Kazuya looking out for his boyfriend (especially when he couldn’t always be there for him), he still found himself wishing someone else knew about their relationship.

Of all people on his boyfriend’s team, why did he have to find out?

Eijun nodded, looking determined. “Since they probably know now, I’ll admit to it and tell them the truth.”

Mei raised his eyebrows, surprised. But after a few moments, he nodded, looking thoughtful. “Yeah, that makes sense.” While it would’ve been fun to see his teammates’ reactions in person, he understood this was something Eijun had to do by himself. “What exactly do you plan on telling them?” he asked, curious.

Eijun beamed at him, tightening his grip on his hands. “That I like you and that we’re dating.”

Mei waited for him to continue, but when Eijun only continued beaming, he couldn’t help but laugh, caught off guard. “Wait… That’s it?”

Eijun blinked a few times, confused. “There’s nothing else to tell.” He grinned, eyes gleaming mischievously. “I’m not the type to kiss and tell. Unless you would prefer if I regale them with the whole story?”

Mei snorted, shaking his head. That was so simple and so Eijun. “Do whatever you want. You know that I already told my teammates all about us.” He almost snickered at his wide-eyed look. “Relax. I didn’t tell them everything.” He gave him a suggestive look, snickering as he turned red.

“Well, that’s… That’s good. Not that I would care if you did tell them everything.”

Mei gave him an unconvinced look. “Uh huh. Like I believe that.” He beamed, remembering something. “I tell them all about how nice you are to me. And about all our dates.”

Eijun’s lips twitched. “You mean you brag about it to everyone who’ll listen.”

“It’s to be expected. Everyone wants to listen to information about their ace,” Mei said, puffing his chest out and making Eijun roll his eyes.

“… It’s not like they have a choice,” Eijun muttered.

“What was that?”

Eijun smiled innocently. “Nothing.” He snickered at his insulted look.

Only to shriek as he jabbed him in the ribs.

“Ow! Quit doing that, you jerk!”

Mei huffed, tempted to do it again. “Then quit being so cheeky.” He let out a shriek of his own as Eijun reciprocated, causing him to smirk.

“Now who’s the cheeky one?”

He glared at him, tousling his hair roughly. “Still you, brat!”

Not one to back down, Eijun reciprocated, causing him to squawk.

Their hands turned into a blur of jabs, the two basically wrestling at this point.

Several moments later, both silently agreed to call a truce, letting go to smooth down their hair. Eijun watched, amused as Mei huffed while trying to smooth down his hair.

“You know you could just wear your hat,” he couldn’t help but point out, grinning as Mei gave him another glare.

“Shut it, you. It’s not the same.”

Eijun tilted his head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“… I can hide it under a hat to prevent other people from seeing it. But I would still know it’s messed up.”

Eijun hid his laugh behind a fist. What a drama queen.

Mei finally gave up a few moments later, glaring up at his hair mutinously. His eyes widened, belatedly remembering something. He reached out, touching Eijun’s shoulders. “Turn around.”

When Eijun only let out a confused noise, he rolled his eyes. “I said turn around. Let me see the ace number on your back.”

Eijun furrowed his eyebrows. “But didn’t you see it earlier?”

“I wasn’t in the mood to appreciate it fully. Just… do as I say.”

To his amusement, Eijun turned around with a huff, dislodging his hands. But in the next moment, he stood up straight, proudly displaying his number.

The ace number looked good on his back. As if it belonged there. And while Mei knew this was just the beginning, he couldn’t help but feel… proud.

Eijun had always talked about becoming the ace, and while he hardly voiced it, he had always known he would one day become the ace.

His boyfriend was the ace.

(He wanted to brag about his boyfriend to anyone who would listen. And then watch smugly as everyone finally paid him the attention he deserved. Because frankly, it was about damn time.)

And although they still had multiple games to play first, he found himself already looking forward to the finals.

Where they’ll face Seidou.

Eijun had to have grown a lot as a pitcher since the last time he saw him pitch. He probably had some new pitches, too.

He had to watch him pitch sometime. Not just as his boyfriend, but as his future opponent and rival.

Eijun started to fidget, looking over his shoulder at him. It was only then Mei realized he hadn’t said anything yet.

He couldn’t help but snort as he reached out, amused by his inability to remain still for long. At first, he reached out with his right hand. But he paused before it could make contact, staring at it for a few moments before promptly switching hands.

It only seemed right to touch him with his pitching hand. Especially as a fellow southpaw pitcher.

Eijun froze at his touch, golden eyes wide. He almost stopped breathing as he noticed which hand touched him.

Mei gently touched the ace number, tracing it with his fingers and his eyes. His lips twitched as Eijun shivered slightly at his light touches, his body twitching to indicate that if he could lean back into the touch, he would. Once he finished tracing it, he moved his hand slightly to the left, his hand no longer touching the number one but still in contact with the ace number.

Mei looked up into golden eyes, Eijun’s breath taken away at the genuine smile on his face. That genuine smile made him feel on top of the world. Like he could take on any number of strong batters and not give up any hits. Or punch the stadium walls down.

(He tried it once. Would not recommend it.)

If Mei demanded him to pitch a no-hitter, he would do it if it meant seeing that smile.

“Congrats, Eijun,” Mei said softly. “I knew you could do it.”

Eijun flushed, pleased with his reaction. He flushed pinker as he noticed the pride in those blue eyes he liked so much. The best part was that Mei wasn’t even trying to hide it from him.

When Mei finally stopped touching him (his heart clenching at how reluctant he looked), Eijun immediately turned around, hugging him.

He let out a happy sound as Mei wrapped his arms around him, keeping him close.

“Thank you, Mei,” he said in a low voice. He pulled back enough so he could look him in the eyes. “That means a lot, coming from you.”

“… Because I’m the king?” Mei joked, one hand reaching up to touch his cheek.

Eijun rolled his eyes good-naturedly as he leaned into the touch, watching as Mei’s eyes softened at his reaction. “Because you’re the pitcher and ace I respect most.”

When he confessed, Eijun had said something about wanting to become an ace like him. So he knew Eijun somewhat looked up to him and respected him.

But it still felt immensely satisfying to know Eijun recognized his hard work and respected him for it.

(If he didn’t know Eijun as well as he did, he would’ve accused him of just saying that to please him. But Eijun couldn’t lie to save his life. And he was always so straightforward and honest that he knew he was telling the truth.)

For reasons unknown to him, he felt drawn to the boy in front of him. He didn’t care what people thought of him, but he found himself wanting to make Eijun proud of him. He wanted Eijun to be proud he was dating him.

(… Not that he didn’t feel that way already. He had to be, considering he was dating the king. But it still felt nice to hear him say it out loud and know he was… enough for him.)

It flattered him and made him happy to know that Eijun always saw him as an inspiration and a goal.

(Of course, Eijun hadn’t reached his goal yet. He refused to let him catch up that easily.)

“… I’m flattered you think of me that way,” Mei said, flushing. Eijun rolled his eyes again, probably thinking he was being sarcastic or smug. He shook his head and gave him a serious look, making Eijun catch his breath “Out of all the pitchers I’ve watched or played against, you’re the only one I’m interested in. Even though it irritates me at times, you command my attention.”

He couldn’t help but give him a teasing grin. “And maybe someday you’ll catch up to me. But not anytime soon.”

Eijun frowned, almost pouting. “Quit being an ass. You’re ruining the moment.”

Mei snickered, noticing his red cheeks. It felt good knowing he could still make him go red after all this time. Although, he supposed, it was probably more so because of the praise than anything he did.

Still cute, though.

“How’s this for a moment?” He tugged him closer, letting his hand fall from his cheek as he kissed him.

Eijun gasped into the kiss, kissing back enthusiastically after a moment. He didn’t think he would ever get tired of kissing him. He grumbled a protest as Mei pulled away with a breathless, barely audible laugh several moments later.

“Too short,” he muttered, holding onto his uniform and trying to tug him back in. “Again,” he demanded.

To his disappointment, Mei didn’t move an inch. His boyfriend let out another laugh, giving him a teasing smirk. “You must really like kissing me.” When Eijun only gave him a dirty look, his eyes softened. “… Okay,” he agreed. “Again.” He watched as his eyes lit up, feeling happy (but also smug) that only he could see him like that.

Eijun eagerly leaned back in, intent on kissing him longer than Mei kissed him (and maybe make him weak in the knees for once). Mei almost snickered at his eagerness, but he managed to stop himself at the last moment, knowing it would be hypocritical of him (considering he was just as eager to kiss him again).

… But just as their lips were about to touch, someone cleared their throat loudly, causing them to freeze.

They quickly pulled away, looking in the direction the noise came from.

To their relief, the culprit was only Itsuki. And while Eijun still felt a little embarrassed at getting caught like that, it was lessened since he knew Itsuki.

It also helped that Itsuki had his eyes averted politely.

Mei had no qualms about giving him a dirty look (not that he could see it) for interrupting them. “Itsuki~ I trust you have a good reason for interrupting us,” he drawled, causing Eijun and Itsuki to wince at the undertone of anger in his words.

When Itsuki hesitantly looked up, Eijun gave him a cheerful smile. “It’s good to see you, Itsuki! I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Itsuki, who had been looking nervous, immediately smiled at him. “It’s good to see you, too, Eijun. I meant to message you about the new series you got me into, but I keep forgetting.”

Eijun’s eyes lit up even more (if possible). “You’re enjoying it? Isn’t the main character adorable? How far have you gotten?”

Mei’s eye twitched as they started talking about whatever series Eijun had gotten into recently, completely ignoring him. Eijun had completely forgotten he was still holding onto him, waving his hands around as he described events or what a certain character did.

“Oi!” Both jumped at the interruption, finally looking at him sheepishly.

(He liked that his boyfriend and Itsuki, his battery partner, got along well. He really did. But not when they proceeded to ignore him. As if he wasn’t even there. Or important.)

“Was there a reason you interrupted us, or did you just come over to waste our time?” he said mockingly, causing both to wince (this time at the noticeable anger in his words).

“I’m sorry, Mei-san. I didn’t want to interrupt you two. I promise I have a good reason.” When Mei only raised his eyebrows, he gave them an apologetic look. “Coach sent me to tell you that we’re leaving.”

Eijun almost groaned at that. There went his alone time with Mei. Why did their time together always seem so short?

Mei blinked, confused. “He sent you? Why couldn’t someone just message me?” Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Eijun pouting, causing him to tighten his grip. Not enough to hurt (no, never hurt) but enough that Eijun could tell he didn’t want to leave him either.

That caused a small smile to form on his face, making him inwardly celebrate that he made him smile.

“We did message you, Mei-san. No one could find you either,” Itsuki said. He felt sympathetic, knowing the two pitchers couldn’t meet up as often as they would want to, which lessened any feelings of irritation or frustration. “By the way, I’m glad you’re not angry anymore,” he said, before looking at Eijun again. “I’m also glad you’re still alive, Eijun.”

Eijun looked over at him, bewildered. “Uh… thank you?”

“Also, while I don’t know Seidou’s schedule, I heard some people looking for you.”

Eijun paled, immediately letting go of him to take out his phone. Mei frowned at the loss of contact, reluctantly letting go of him. He watched as Eijun looked at the time, horrified. “Damn it! Boss is going to kill me!”

Eijun quickly scurried off, but he didn’t even make it a few feet away before stopping in his tracks.

Mei, who reluctantly understood he had to go, was about to complain he didn’t receive a kiss goodbye.

Only to feel surprised as Eijun turned around, running back toward him. Once he was close enough, Eijun threw his arms around him, pulling him into a kiss.

Mei quickly wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer. And while the kiss was shorter due to the time constraint, they still managed to make it somewhat passionate.

They pulled away several moments later, Eijun beaming at him even as he breathed heavily. “I guess next time I see you, it’ll be time for the finals.”

Mei almost had to look away, his breath catching in his throat at Eijun’s smile. “You had better not trip before you face us,” he said, giving him a condescending smirk.

Eijun’s answering smile was feral, almost predatory. His golden eyes almost made Mei’s mouth dry up, the intense gaze reminding him of whenever his boyfriend pitched. “Right back at ya.”

Mei scoffed. “Who do you think you’re talking to? We won’t lose.”

(Some part of him felt insulted his boyfriend thought (even for a second) that they would lose. He would need to remind him that the loss during the fall tournament was just a one-time thing.)

He couldn’t help but point at him. “You’re not allowed to lose before you face us! Got that? Don’t disappoint me.”

To his surprise, Eijun smirked, eyes gleaming mischievously. “I would never think of disappointing the king.” He proceeded to bow mockingly.

Before he could reach out and swat him, Eijun scurried off, laughing at his disgruntled expression. “Get back here, you rude brat!”

Eijun only laughed, but before he left his sight, he raised his cell phone, silently telling him he would text him.

Mei grumbled to himself as he walked over to Itsuki, somewhat appeased by Eijun’s promise to text him.

He would have to show him exactly why he’s the king next time they meet.

But first, both needed to concentrate on their first game.

Or they might trip before even making it to the finals.

… Not that Mei was worried. He had complete faith both of their teams would keep winning and make the finals.

Where they’ll finally have a pitching duel as ace of their respective schools.

ZZZ

Kazuya watched, amused as the rest of the first string kept glancing at Sawamura out of the corner of their eyes.

They were all hanging out in his room, playing video games after dinner (during which he swore someone would cave and question Sawamura, but besides glancing at him multiple times, no one did anything). A few of their teammates looked tense, as if ready to chase if Sawamura tried to escape.

But just as he was starting to think Kuramochi would pounce on their ace, Sawamura cleared his throat loudly, attracting everyone’s attention.

He managed to keep a straight face as everyone immediately looked at their ace.

Time for the show to begin.

Sawamura looked sheepish, rubbing the back of his head. “I wanted to talk to you guys about my relationship with Mei.” If he didn’t already have everyone’s attention, they definitely would’ve started paying attention now. “I admit, I should’ve told you guys earlier. So I’m sorry.” A determined glint went into his eyes. “But I’m not apologizing about our relationship. I like him, and I’m going to continue to date him whether you guys like it or not.”

A shocked silence greeted his words, with multiple people gaping at their ace (much to Kazuya’s amusement).

“DATING?!” The team yelled, causing Sawamura to wince. Kazuya couldn’t help himself. He started laughing quietly. A few people sounded like they were choking, causing Sawamura to look alarmed (but also vaguely offended. He would probably never admit it out loud, though.)

Sawamura opened and closed his mouth a few times, resembling a goldfish. He looked around him multiple times, as if not understanding the reaction. In the next moment, though, he turned to look at him with his cat eyes, causing him to chuckle. “I thought you would tell them! What’s wrong with you?”

“You actually wanted me to tell them the truth? Isn’t that ironic?” Kazuya teased, smirking.

“Shut up! I just… What did you tell them?”

Kazuya debated not answering for a few moments, but he finally decided to give in, thinking it might be more amusing that way. He shrugged, trying to look innocent. “As close to the truth as possible. That you two are close friends.”

“Liar!”

Kazuya raised his eyebrows, feigning a hurt expression. “I’m telling the truth this time.” When Sawamura still looked suspicious, he gestured to the rest of the team. “Go ahead. Ask them. They’ll tell you what I said.”

Sawamura turned back to look at the rest of the team, biting his lower lip, as if trying to decide what or who to ask.

But then, as if the team were waiting for Sawamura to finish talking to him, they all exploded into action, many of them talking over each other.

Kazuya started laughing quietly at their ace’s bewildered expression. Sawamura tried to ask them to calm down (most likely so he could understand what people were saying), but no one wanted to listen to him.

“What the fuck? How did this even—”

“Why Narumiya of all people? Huh?!”

“Aniki is going to kill us…”

“Is he treating you right? We saw how he grabbed you earlier.”

Kazuya cackled hysterically as everyone shouted, trying to force Sawamura to answer them. Not that their ace could hear anything besides little snippets here and there.

… He was right.

This was much more entertaining than the situation he found himself in earlier.

He leaned back against the side of his bed, content to watch as the team collectively lost their shit with a lost (and now very offended) Sawamura in the middle of the chaos.

He would step in if things got too chaotic or someone went overboard.

But for now, he wanted to enjoy the show while it lasted.

#diamond no ace #daiya no ace #sawamura eijun #narumiya mei #meisawa #sawamei #daiya no a #fanfictions #pikashadows writing

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unwiltingblossom · 4 years ago

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Queen’s Favor (Mysme Jumin/MC AU 8/?)

Summary: Being a maid would be much easier if the cat would just let her do her job.

AU - Instead of joining the RFA via random text, MC is hired on as one of the maids assigned to Jumin Han’s penthouse. Nothing else about the setting has changed, the messenger and the RFA still exist, only the MC’s position has been altered.

Honestly, she didn't even need to keep a watch on her, because Elizabeth seemed to have that timing down, and wouldn't brook any kind of deviation. She'd never had to interrupt any of her work just to go play with the cat, but she had no doubt that Elizabeth would put her paw down about it if she ever tried not to.

What this penthouse really needed was a sign she could check off days for how long it'd been without an accident or life threatening encounter.

She ought to have a prize, as this was the 30th day without incident.

Unsurprisingly, no such thing awaited her when she arrived at the penthouse. Aside from the one gift (which she kept at home most of the time, as it was much too valuable to wear at work), her enigmatic employer - contractor - left her nothing else but the odd bit of food and endless weird messes that made her wonder just what he got up to when she wasn't there. He did arrive from time to time when she worked, but as always he left her alone and merely gave her pleasant compliments or a stiff drink at the end of her shift.

The cat was troublesome as ever, but hadn't caused her any injury.

She leaned down to rub the cat under her chin, and then tossed some bell-toy further into the room. No longer nearly as starved for attention, the flowy white cat pranced off after the toy. After a bit of fussing, Elizabeth had gotten back into the habit of just expecting her in the mornings, not all day, and so the cat mostly only smothered her when she first arrived and whenever it was her break time.

The phone rang.

That in of itself wasn't particularly unusual. Although it seemed most of his contacts either knew his working hours or used whatever gold-encrusted cellphone he owned, there was always the odd whoever that called anyway. The strange thing about it was that after the first call went to whatever voicemail was attached to the phone, it started ringing again. Immediately. At first, she was a bit worried there was some urgent matter actually meant for her on the phone. But that was absurd, as she had her own phone on her - and she double-checked, it was fully powered and getting signal - and anyone that desperate to speak to her would get through to her phone somehow.

Ten minutes passed with it ringing, and it was getting on her last nerve. Only her immense sense of self control - and need for the sweet, sweet pay the job provided - kept her from ripping the phone right out of the wall and then possibly throwing it out of the window.

"He's not here, you needy stalker!"

She didn't pick up the phone and say that, obviously. But it did make her feel a little better saying it out loud.

Almost eerily, the phone stopped ringing.

Maybe it just took that long for whatever desperate caller that was to figure that out. Maybe she should let the penthouse owner know he had this obsessed caller? Just in case? Not that his security didn't seem tip-top as it was. Aside from the cat-napper, anyway. But apparently they were friends somehow.

She jumped and gave a short shriek when her phone rang in her pocket.

The number on the phone was unknown. Probably, it was just spam or something unrelated.

If nothing else, at least she had an excuse to chew out the caller without getting fired, if indeed it was related at all.

She frowned at the phone a moment, before finally accepting the call with a huff.

"Man, you are way too good at resisting the urge to answer the phone call of destiny!" She couldn't immediately place the voice, but it...sounded way less creepy than she'd expect for a phone stalker.

"...Huh?"

"Ninja maid! Your dulcet tones are always such a gift!" Oh, it was him. Wait. How was it him?! "I heard you were gravely injured as punishment for allowing my escape from yon castle, so I had to call you to show my appreciation, but then you just ignored all my calls! For so long! Are you just afraid of phones, is that why you ignored the phone call of destiny?"

Wait.

Wait. Many questions all jumbled together at once.

"That's not what I-that's..how-how do you even know about that? How do you have my number?! Who are you?"

"Oh, wow! My first interview~. I didn't come prepared." Although his voice sounded as if his phone were on speaker on some desk or something, she didn't miss the teasing tone in it. "Fortunately, I can answer all the questions at once! FOR YOU SEE! I am none other than the diabolical genius, world famous hacker 707! ...If you think about it, you'll see that answers all three questions."

Yes, she understood how it applied to all the questions.

No, she didn't believe it at all. The scrawny little screaming nerd she'd twice tackled didn't have the right look to be a hacker, firstly, and secondly she couldn't imagine why a high profile heir to a giant corporation would associate with someone criminal. And another thing: even if he were a hacker, why would he fixate on harassing the maid?

He was definitely some kind of a stalker.

"I'm going to call the police and have them trace this call."

"That's...sort of the spirit!" He laughed on the other end of the line. "Anyway. It's tragic, but...I've been trapped inside my house for a month, unable to go out and see Princess Elly! About now is when I'd normally go out to get a recharge by visiting her, but...alas! I'm going to be trapped even longer in here. That's why I need you-"

"No."

"-to be my hands!" He didn't even miss a beat. "You must send my affection to Elly through the phone!"

"Absolutely not. I know the kind of things you do to her."

"Don't put it like that, Ninja Maid! Our love is purer than that. If you could just snap a picture-"

"I'm going to hang up now. If you call back, I'm turning it off this time."

"NO WAIT-"

Seriously, though? How in the world did he get her number? Had he stolen it somehow during one of their scuffles? Or did he trick the company into sharing it with him? He didn't seem all that wily or convincing to her, but then...maybe he could be a bit more charismatic to someone whose first interactions didn't involve him screaming bloody murder in their ears or sitting on their boss' bed in a cheap maid outfit.

She rubbed her forehead and flopped down on the couch. Her head still hurt from the crank calling, and that voice shouting in her ear didn't help the situation at all, either.

Elizabeth wandered into the room, tail flicking as if she, too, still had ringing in her ears. The little furball looked up at her for a moment, as if silently scolding her for daring to take her break early, before prancing over and hopping up onto her lap.

"Yeah. Didn't think you'd have a problem with it." She reached down to run her fingers along the cat's soft white fur, and the little monster bumped its head up against her hand, as if demanding more petting.

Honestly. It'd be kind of a bummer when she had to move on to another place to clean some day. The odd life-threatening situation and conniving cat wasn't actually all that bad of a compromise for having such luxurious breaks and so few really alarming messes. The owner wasn't home all that often even when he wasn't out of the country, and it showed. Both in the demanding cat, and in the lack of lived-in messes she encountered.

She scoffed to herself as the cat grabbed her hand in its paws and gnawed lightly at her fingertips. Easy to say it's not that bad a compromise when it's been a month since any peril though, huh?

"Alright, geez. If you're going to keep biting like that, I'll get you something to eat that isn't human."

She stretched, listening to the alarming musical starring her back and spine. She liked to think that all came from the hard work she put into the day, and not the torture rack that her bed had slowly been devolving into since it started running low on fluff and springs.

Well, it was fine. With what she made, she could really start saving for medical exams, a better bed, or even moving somewhere that looked less like an 'Escape from New York' movie. The evening air was cool on her skin as she walked, and she wondered idly if it might even be worth it to just go ahead and start using a car. The walk did take a while, and it meant getting up extra early in the mornings.

The streetlights flickered on above her, as the sun finally got low enough in the sky to upset them.

Actually, tomorrow was payday. She glanced down and grabbed frayed blonde locks in two fingers. Her hair could probably do with a good trim. She could look even more killer in her uniform with a good cut and style.

Someone shoved into her, nearly knocking her face-first into the pavement. She manged not to collide with the ground, but only by engaging in a rousing round of pinwheel hopscotch.

It's not like I was just taking up all the space in the sidewalk!

She rounded on her assailant, but the figure already moved away from her at a quick pace, hood up, obscuring their face in the evening shadows.

"Hey-!"

They - probably a he, given their relative height - didn't even hesitate or react to her calling out to them. Despite the two of them being the only ones in the street. Which was almost as rude as nearly knocking her over in the first place.

Naturally, she chased after him. Just to make sure he could get the earful he deserved.

He was surprisingly agile, as he took quick turns through multiple alleyways without any warning. Frankly, she was starting to worry that she might inadvertently be tailing someone to a drug deal. If I see anyone shady popping up, I'll just...

...Okay. So maybe she'd gotten a little too into giving some random jerk on the street an earful just for bumping into her. Now that she thought about it.

She blinked, looking back and forth on the street.

Wait. Where did he go?

She'd barely even gotten distracted at all, and yet the figure she'd put so much effort into following was just...gone. A few businesses stood nearby, metal gates locked down tight, and one or two houses that looked burned out and boarded up. There were no obvious entrances to any of them.

A short distance down the road stood a building she'd have considered tall before that penthouse spoiled her. Distant city lights reflected on the windows of hundreds of rooms, but not one of them were lit up, even in the increasing darkness of the evening.

"Weird." Businesses usually kept their lights on for security purposes, right? At least dim ones. She frowned and made her way closer to the building. A modest parking lot with various marked carports sat in front of it. Completely empty.

There weren't any obvious signs on the building indicating whether it was one big business, or if it was a mini mall of some sort that just hadn't successfully rented itself out to any local businesses. Well. All the same, the man likely disappeared in there. Somewhere.

She wasn't crazy enough to go investigating it, though.

...Instead, she just...needed to figure out how to find her way back home. And not chase after random people who made her angry on the street.

"...Ah."

Well. Crap. She had a pretty decent idea of what direction she came from, and she could probably make her way back to the main road. But it was also late, and a pretty shady part of town.

She frowned, and dug out her phone. Light flooded her vision as she turned it back on. "GPS...please work."

#mysme #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fic #mysme fic #707 #jumin x mc #fic #ooc

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joshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh · 4 years ago

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Thinking about the fact that I’m a mod and like, my god is that stressful. First of all I’m constantly needing balance the fact that I’m a human being with thoughts and feelings with the fact that I’m some Discord role for a community of over 3000 people and expected to act in a specific way because of that and it’s really hard reconciling the differences between those two points. If somebody says something transphobic unintentionally I’m gonna correct them but then they argue back and escalate it and I don’t know how to de-escalate that, I’m just trying to get them to not be transphobic. But then I can’t argue with them on an even level or anything because there’s some power dynamic at play I’m not used to having, so now I’m getting told to drop arguments against actual transphobia or that I’m taking my job way too seriously, even though I don’t at all feel wrong in how I’m acting in these situations. That’s not to say I don’t ever make the wrong decision as a mod, but I certainly feel like I’m trying my best, and at the very least I know my activity is appreciated. But then I can’t help but feel like I’m riding on mod from having earned it back before it was really that hard to earn and if I applied today or whatever I’d get rejected. Maybe I do take this too seriously so I get insecure when somebody says like, low charisma as a mod even when they end that with a /j because I just, I don’t know. And then any time I do something scuffed as a mod I always fear like “well how do the rest of the server think of me the person” after this, like when somebody says I’m 50/50 on popularity because of something I did in the past or whatever then I can’t help but wonder how that informs the way they view me personally, do they even distinguish between me the mod and me the person? Am I once again being overly insecure about nothing? I don’t know, I have no idea what mentality I’m actually supposed to have here, such that I wonder like - am I unfit for mod enough to where I should just step down? Would that be in the best interests of the server? Or am I just trying to shirk a responsibility I opted into because it was more than I can handle? But is it even? I’ve certainly banned enough raiders and spam bots and transphobes and 4chan trolls, de-escalated situations between other members, deleted the actual fucking hentai some cunt troll just sent into a channel, I steer people into the correct channel often enough, delete messages that are in the wrong channel, I have fun putting together the 3x3s and participating in staff channel stuff, enough random users have given me praise for how I manage mod stuff. I don’t know if I’m good or bad at this and if either way I don’t know if it’s still in my and the server’s best interest to keep me modded. Maybe I should just stop complaining and have faith in my ability to improve and address the issues people do have with me but do I even want to bother when I can just step down and have a far easier time? But then that’s at the cost of all the things I sincerely enjoy doing as a mod. I don’t know. I have no idea. And then like memes that shit on Discord mods or people telling me I take it too seriously, I don’t know I just feel like that’s invalidating me, because I do put work into this server and try to make it a good place where people are chill and everyone has fun. But maybe that’s just me being unable to take a joke, I don’t know. Also I don’t really like the recent crowd of people that occupy the general chat these days but then I feel like I have no right to complain about that because they are just normal users following the rules perfectly fine and I just personally find annoying, so idk do I want general chat 2 already? I do but it’s been turned down because of some stuff relating to peak activity. On that note actually I wanna circle back to when I was talking about how I wouldn’t get approved today - I used to read every message in every channel and I’d wake up in the mornings and spend like a half hour just reading shit, now I basically skimread everything, and I know that this same admin that I can probably just namedrop at this point - don’t even know why I’m vagueing her when I half-intend to share this post with them all anyway, basically hi Prim - yeah she reads everything apparently, so I guess I feel a bit irresponsible, but I don’t really know? Also I said I half intend to share this with them (referring to really just the whole staff team) but I don’t even know about that because like, what do I seek? I’d feel cheap if I’m just out for validation but if I get anything less than that I’ll probably just feel insecure but I don’t want to say that because I don’t want to like subconsciously manipulate them into feeling for me. I have no idea how to approach sharing my problems because I fear how people would react but I intrinsically want to share them because hey wow nobody should bear these burdens alone. But calling them that still feels so exaggerated that I, just. I don’t know. I don’t know how to deal with this and I don’t want to admit I don’t know how to deal with this because I don’t want to be pitied but then I don’t want people to think I’m some stubborn prick that doesn’t want to rely on his friends, but then I think I am that anyway? I don’t know anything and I don’t know how to do anything and I want to be mod but I don’t want to put in the effort of being a better mod than I am but I want to be a better mod anyway and I don’t know how to do this and I don’t want to share this because I don’t want my current position to be in any further danger but I want to actually talk to someone about this rather than just scream into an echo chamber and. Yeah. I don’t know.

#17.3.21

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zhydoesart · 5 years ago

Text

Letters

Warnings: none

Fandom/Ship: Phan

AO3

Summary: Somehow, Phil always knows when Dan's feeling down, and he always knows what to say to make Dan feel better.

Taglist: I don’t currently have one for this fandom, this is my first Phanfic ^^ I hope you enjoy

Somehow, he always knew.

Whenever Dan was having a bad day—maybe he’d dropped his ice cream, or maybe he was having his fifth existential crisis this month—Phil sent a text. It was never anything elaborate or too long-winded, it was something simple like, “I miss you <3,” or, “I heard a song that made me think of you and I smiled.” Whatever it ended up being, it always managed to turn Dan’s day around.

But Phil had taken a trip to the next city over, without Dan. It had only been two days so far, but Dan was already starting to feel the effects.

Dan had been lying on his bed, face buried in his pillow, for about 20 minutes now. Every three or so minutes, he’d check his phone, perking up hopefully, only to see that he hadn’t gotten a text from Phil, at which point he’d deflate again.

Phil had always been there when Dan needed him, he thought, unable to fight off a hint of bitterness. Part of him still resented Phil for leaving him and Dan hated that part of himself. It wasn’t Phil’s job to make Dan feel better; what was he, a child? Dan had never properly learned how to cheer himself up. Whatever he tried never worked.

Dan groaned, the sound muffled by his pillow, and rolled over onto his back with a sigh. His eyes sightlessly traced the little bumps on the ceiling, mind somewhere else. He pondered calling Phil for a moment, but no. That would be far too disruptive; what if Phil was doing something important that required concentration and Dan distracted him?

Instead, he dragged himself out of bed, trudging into the bathroom. He blinked blearily at himself in the mirror, running a hand through his hobbit hair, which was still messy from last night’s sleep, trying to force his hair into a little more order.

The bags under his eyes were dark today, and Dan thought absentmindedly that if Phil had been there, he probably would’ve slept better last night. As it was, last night he’d tossed and turned for hours.

On the bright side, Phil couldn’t eat cereal that wasn’t for him to eat, Dan thought dully as he poured himself a bowl. Maybe he should be enjoying having the place to himself, but somehow he isn’t having fun as he eats his slightly mushy cereal for brunch.

Dan left the bowl in the sink, plopping himself lazily down on the sofa. Fumbling for the remote, he turned on the TV, resigning himself to watching whatever was on. After a few minutes, his eyes glazed over as he stopped listening.

An engine stopped outside. Pausing the TV, Dan peeked out the blinds as the mailman—in this case, a woman, so maybe mailperson?—dropped an envelope into the mailbox. He waited the normal minute-and-a-half duration for the truck to drive away before bolting to the mailbox.

Dan hadn’t been corresponding with anyone via letters recently, so it was probably just the standard spam from the corporate entities that seemed to target him and Phil, but he never liked staying outside for very long. It wasn’t a very sunny day—in fact, it was gray today, clouds obscuring the sun—but the sentiment still stood, so as soon as he’d unlocked the mailbox and grabbed the envelope, he hurried back inside.

Dan slammed the wooden front door shut, standing with his back to said door as he faced his living room. Panting slightly, he stared down at the envelope in his hand as though he thought it would come to life and start trying to bite him. He shook his head—that was as unlikely to happen as it was for Phil’s potted plants to uproot themselves and do a little dance—forcing his other hand to move the distance necessary to rip open the envelope.

The way Dan unfolded the piece of paper inside the envelope was a sharp contrast with the way he’d opened the letter. Dan always opened envelopes with force, not bothering with any sort of neatness; unlike Phil, who was one of those people who needed to painstakingly peel open the flap. His hands seemed to be shaking as he read the first words printed on the page in front of him in a handwriting that was very, very familiar to him.

My darling Dan, the letter began in a slightly loopy, messy font that Dan instantly recognized as Phil’s. How are you? I’m sure you must be worrying about me. While the thought is very flattering, we are not conjoined, despite the baking video we made for Halloween in 2017, and Dan Howell should get himself a life that doesn’t involve spending ALL of his time with me. (I know, I know, hypocritical, right?)

Dan scoffed, migrating over to the sofa to read the rest of the letter.

(To be honest, he was relieved to hear from Phil. It wasn’t as though it had been very long since Phil had left, and Phil wasn’t bad at remembering to contact Dan, per se, but a part of Dan always carried the irrational fear that something bad had, or would, happen to Phil.)

Now you’re wondering why I sent you a letter, which is perfectly reasonable, as I don’t send many these days. I don’t really have a reason to. But, truth be told, I’ve always wanted to send one like this. I romanticize letters in my head, and, well, who better to be romantic with than you?

So I wrote this letter, assuming that you’d start pacing and/or passive-aggressively trying to suffocate yourself with a pillow if I left for longer than one day. While we’ve always been satisfied with texting, I feel like letters hold a bigger part of a person than a text. They’re more personal. Like, I held this letter and I wrote on it in my own handwriting, and I like you enough to write more than a paragraph. I wanted to let you know I was thinking about you. And letters are sort of a place for you to ramble about things you think the other person would want to hear about.

Letters are also a physical thing. There’s something cool about the way you can hold them in your hand. Sure, you could always send an email, and the other person could print it out, but then you wouldn’t have their handwriting, would you?

Handwriting tells a lot about a person. If it’s neat, then they’re methodical and think things through. If it’s big, then they have a lot of self-confidence, or at least want to make it look like they do.

Dan supposed that was true. Phil’s handwriting tended to be large, which represented the pure amount of energy he always had (at least around Dan).

Your handwriting is always small and messy, the opposite of the two examples I gave. I think you rush because you’re a procrastinator, and in your avoidance of doing things, it gives you less time to actually do the things you want to do because you waited so long.

Sometimes Dan wasn’t sure how beneficial it was for him and Phil to know literally everything about one another, but he had to admit that what Phil had said in the letter was true.

Dan scanned the letter. It seemed like the rest of the letter was just Phil rambling about a dog he’d seen from the window of the room where he was staying, and Dan smiled, imagining Phil with his face pressed to the window to stare out at the dog.

At the bottom, it was signed, Missing you too, Phil, but contrary to the signature, in smaller text it then read, P.S. Dan, I want a dog :/ I would name it Meatball, and then, P.P.S. Is having a great name for a dog enough justification to get a dog?

Dan sighed, though not unhappily, stretching as he stood. As usual, Phil had improved his day significantly, although that didn't stop Dan from missing him, just a little bit.

Dan had thought the letter would be a one-time occurrence, but the next day, another envelope was in his mailbox. In this letter, Phil attempted some poetry (it went very badly, but Dan still appreciated it) and scribbled in the margin the lyrics to a song he'd had stuck in his head while writing (Toxic by Britney Spears, of course).

Every day, Phil sent Dan a letter in the mail, and after a week, Dan now had a small pile accumulating on the table next to their bed. Each one contained words of reassurance and confidence that Dan could seize the day, and each time Dan opened an envelope, his heart swelled. He really didn't deserve someone like Phil, who, while not having his life together much more than Dan, seemed happier in his decisions and in himself than Dan felt.

He couldn't remember how long Phil had said the little trip was going to be, and so couldn't estimate the number of letters he'd be receiving, but on the eighth day, no letter came. Despite how much Phil had reminded him not to jump to the worst possible conclusion, Dan assumed Phil had stopped sending letters and that he'd gotten too busy for Dan anymore.

Dan had been lying in bed for an hour when he heard someone fumbling with the doorknob on the front door. Heart pounding, he glanced at the time (9:02). He crept to the end of the hallway, watching the door with a mix of trepidation and adrenaline.

Dan could hear the jingle of keys as the person on the other side of the door failed to unlock it several times. He realized that his palms were sweaty as he peered around the corner at the door. Anyone who failed to open the door that many times was either breaking in, or…

A muffled yet triumphant “Aha!” came from the other side of the door, becoming clearer as the door actually opened. Dan blinked what must’ve been ten times, so it couldn’t have been a hallucination conjured by his sleep-deprived brain. It was really Phil.

Phil glanced up, catching sight of Dan watching and breaking into a grin. Dan barreled into Phil’s arms, very nearly knocking Phil over as he caught Dan in an embrace.

Dan buried his face in Phil’s hair, inhaling the familiar scent, that pleasant smell of Phil’s shampoo currently mixed with the smell of wherever he’d been staying. “I missed you,” he said softly.

“You got my letters, right?” asked Phil, arms wrapped almost as tightly around Dan as Dan’s were wrapped around him.

“Yeah.” Dan pulled back after a moment to gaze into Phil’s “blue-green-yellow” eyes, one hand on Phil’s cheek. Phil’s eyes were filled with warmth, and his smile, that beautiful smile, was almost too much for Dan to handle in his tired state, but he narrowly prevented himself from crying.

“Why don’t we get out of the doorway?” Phil suggested, gently removing Dan’s hand from his face.

“Oh, yeah.” Dan stepped back to allow Phil room to enter with the luggage, closing the door behind him like a gentleman.

“How are you?” Phil asked. “Your eye bags look dark.” He raised an eyebrow at Dan, who felt sheepish and rushed to explain himself.

“I know you said to get to bed early because you know that I don’t sleep much unless I’m forced to, and I did!” justified Dan. “But… I couldn’t sleep much without you. It gets cold at night.” He pouted slightly, arms crossed, avoiding Phil’s eyes.

Phil looked at Dan, the look in his eyes soft. “You get off the hook this time,” he sighed, but he still had a small smile. “Come here.” He swept Dan into his arms again. While Phil had been the one away from home, and Dan had never left, Dan hadn’t felt as at home without Phil as he did now, enveloped in Phil’s embrace.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #dan and phil #daniel howell #phil lester

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