#and then that delivery guy appeared and i was like “nah that's just delivery guy Hermes isn't gonna deliver packages himself is he?” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pianokantzart · 1 year

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When Mario and Luigi approach the location of the burst pipe, Mario is taking large confident strides through the flood, looking stern and determined. Luigi, on the other hand, appears anxious, nervously clutching at the strap of the tool bag as he surveys the unfolding chaos before him.

The whole emergency department is all-hands-on-deck, but despite the scope of his problem Mario is completely confident. This is destiny after all!

“Ha ha, they’re not even looking in the right place!” When Mario says this, Luigi looks at him and smiles. He has full faith in his brother, but when Mario turns his back on the work crew and heads toward a nearby manhole, Luigi becomes confused.

His confusion grows when Mario lifts the manhole cover and creates a swirling whirlpool into the sewer system. Luigi glances rapidly back and forth between his brother and the vortex, desperately hoping that Mario isn’t thinking what he thinks he’s thinking…

“You are not seriously considering–” Mario doesn’t even let him finish the sentence. His attention is fixed, he is brimming with confidence and excitement– They’re finally going to prove themselves! They’re going to be heroes! They’re going to save Brooklyn! He hands off the crowbar and leaps into the manhole, much to Luigi’s distress.

“Mario!” Luigi sounds completely exasperated. Nonetheless, after some anxious fidgeting to work up his courage, he holds his nose and leaps in, yelling in fear the whole way down.

Gonna take a moment to admire Luigi’s guts here. They’re plumbers, but it seems like most of Luigi’s experience is in residential plumbing, not commercial plumbing. If my sibling pulled a stunt like this, I would’ve just contacted the surrounding work crew, explained the situation, and asked for someone actually trained in sewer maintenance to follow my sibling underground and make sure they didn’t kill themselves, but Luigi my man... he is ride or die… he knows Mario has a plan, and has complete faith in him.

At the same time, Mario knows Luigi well enough to know he wouldn’t be far behind. When Luigi lands in the sewers Mario’s looking over his shoulder, waiting for him. Once his brother arrives Mario forges ahead, pointing to their destination: “We’ve got to get to that pressure valve!”

“Mama Mia” I’m glad Luigi got at least one patented ‘Mama Mia’ in the film. I don’t know if this is just me… but he sounds kinda like Danny Wells’ Luigi from the Super Mario Brothers Super Show in his delivery. I wonder if that was intentional.

Unfortunately, their only immediate path to the valve is a long slender pipe, and without thought or hesitation Mario takes hold of it and begins shuffling across toward his target. Luigi– actually taking a moment to think this through– looks down and assesses the situation. The sewage pit below is vast and deadly. If they fell, it would be potentially fatal. And yet, he follows anyway.

Okay, look. If I had enough faith in any of my siblings to follow them down a flooded manhole, this is where my sense of self-preservation would’ve fully kicked in. Mario didn’t even ask for Luigi to follow him across the pipe, Luigi didn’t even know if his tools were required complete this task! but he still keeps close behind his brother. “Luigi’s a coward.” Nah man, he just has a basic sense of self preservation and wears his heart on his sleeve, but at the end of the day that guy has proven he has serious guts, even before his big climactic stunt with the manhole cover at the end of the film.

It’s interesting to see Mario and Luigi’s different ways of traversing the pipe: Mario climbs across with smooth, efficient strides, one hand over the other. Luigi is slower, gripping and scooting his whole body along in spurts– it looks awkward, but it prioritizes maintaining firm grip, which is probably for the best since he still has the heavy load of tools hanging off of him.

Mario grabs the valve and tries to turn it, but ends up just popping it off like a loose-fitting lego piece. I don’t know wtf this accomplished. Who knows if what Mario did “Saved Brooklyn” or just broke things more, but long story short that pipe could not hold Mario and Luigi’s weight, and the two end up being flung through a (thankfully crumbling) brick wall below them.

L: “I knew saving Brooklyn was a bad idea…” M: “… C’mon.” Mario, despite being the second one to regain his senses, is the first one on his feet, and after surveying his surroundings his first goal is to help his brother up. Luigi, once standing, checks himself over to ensure he didn’t break damage anything in the fall. Mario, on the other hand, has had his attention stolen away by the large underground pipework he has accidentally stumbled upon. He is enamored, his adventurous nature sparking despite his recent brush with danger.

Luigi eventually comes around to a shared curiosity. Both brothers walk to the edge of a platform, looking over at the massive hidden pipe network below. Luigi carefully kicks a pebble over the edge, gauging just how deep it goes. Mario looks at his brother, and nods his head toward the nearby stairwell, silently asking him if he wants to go deeper.

Luigi apparently agrees. All throughout their descent he makes no argument about going home, nor does he make any further mention of how dangerous their recent escapade was… he simply trails behind his brother and looks around, just as taken by the discovery as his sibling.

For most of the journey, Luigi lets Mario lead the way. There is only one time where he allows himself to get sidetracked… he glances off into one outward-facing tunnel, echoing with a strange whooshing sound.

OKAY... I want to take a moment to discuss the change from the original concept art:

It seems like the warp pipe was at one point going to be this big shiny mystical thing that screamed “I lead to a magical world.”

Look at the way Luigi is putting his hand on his brother’s shoulder. It looks like Mario was going to test his luck again… once more forging ahead despite Luigi’s worries, inevitably getting them both isekaid. But as much as I find the concept visually interesting, I sort of like what they went with instead. We’ve seen enough to understand the dynamic: Mario has the “let’s-a-go” attitude, while Luigi is cautious, but has enough faith in his brother to follow him into perilous situations. But in the movie, Luigi… careful as he is… just happened to pause and look into one of the many hundreds of surrounding pipes... one that didn’t even look all that important or unusual. Though it was Mario’s brashness that brought them there, it was Luigi’s luck that sealed the deal. The inciting incident was a group effort– a combination of Mario’s zeal and Luigi’s uncanny ability to attract trouble.

The moment Mario and Luigi are distracted from each other, Luigi gets sucked away like a dust bunny in a vacuum commercial. Mario only hears a light clatter of a falling tool, but his radar immediately goes off. He turns around, and sure enough... his brother’s gone.

“Luigi?” No response. He looks into the pipe where Luigi last stood. He climbs up into it, getting a little more anxious. “Weegie, are you in there?” The silence is getting to him. On the ground he sees a wrench. He picks it up and examines it, and recognizes it as the one from the tool kit Luigi was carrying... ... and Luigi is shown to be very careful about not losing any of their tools.

Mario calls his brother’s name again, this time louder and a bit more urgently. “Luigi!”

Suddenly, the wrench is sucked from his grip. Mario’s whole body shakes as he feels himself being pulled forward. Frightened, he stretches out his arms and legs, trying to maintain balance or find something to hold on to, but it’s no use. He is flung forward, head over heels, through the barrier of his own world into the open in-between dimension of glimmering pathways and glowing pipes.

When he regains his bearings, Mario’s terror turns into awe as he is overcome by the strange beauty of his surroundings.

Then he hears Luigi’s yelps of terror, and all of the magic is immediately replaced by worry. In the flow of the warp pipe Mario has found his balance, but Luigi is spiraling in every sense of the word, spinning around wildly just ahead.

M: “Luigi!” L: “Mario!” Mario wastes no time getting to his brother. He dives forward, arms outstretched to clasp Luigi’s hands, giving him some sort of center of gravity as they both hold tight to each other and spin in circles. Mario puts all his focus into calming Luigi down.

M: “It’s all going to be okay!” L: “HOW IS THIS GOING TO BE OKAY!?” M: “I’m telling you, nothing can hurt us as long as we’re together!” You can tell by the look on Mario’s face that he believes every word. His confidence is infectious, and as usual Luigi can’t help but believe him. After all, he’s trusted him this far, and though they’ve had some bumps in the road things have always turned out in the end. They have each other’s backs. Wherever this leads, that’s all that matters.

He smiles just as a darkness overtakes him. Luigi realizes something is wrong for a split second before he is violently yanked backwards, ripped out of his brother’s grip, and dragged unwillingly down a separate path. Both of them look terrified as they scramble fruitlessly to try and grab onto each other again. Luigi is once more out of balance, whirling about with redoubled fear as he falls into the most threatening looking warp pipe possible.

Mario panics. He tries to turn around... swim back, fight the current, get to his brother somehow! But it is all futile. There is no undoing what has just happened.

“Nothing can hurt us as long as we’re together” But the universe had different plans.

#Mario Analysis #Mario Movie #Mario #Luigi #Super Mario Brothers #Super Mario Bros #long post #asks #analyisis #mario commentary #Anon

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stronghours · 2 months

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Once is Luck, Twice is Talent

It took about a half hour of teasing, natural conversation and another fifteen minutes of gradual roughhousing to tow Jules away from Clay and Roscoe’s supervision on the sandy blankets. By the time they were up to their ankles in the lake, Martin was clear on two things – one, Jules had never roughhoused in his life; two, that he himself was horny enough to start chewing rocks.

Jules punched Martin, almost certainly by accident, square in the liver in response to some harmless two-handed shoving.

“Oh shit,” he said, when Martin automatically doubled over. No apology; attaboy.

“Listen,” Martin said, using this as an excuse to grab Jules’ shoulder. “Fighting is a social act. It’s contextual. Your response should mirror your opponent’s initial delivery.”

“Sure,” Jules said, unimpressed. “Losers who play fair would say that.”

“I play fair.”

“No, you don’t.” Jules fell back and lifted one foot behind his calf to wobble, flamingo-like in the surf. He wore a baggy T-shirt over shorts that were probably not swim trunks. He looked windblown and vulnerable as he gazed, distracted, by the unseen center of the lake. Martin had spent enough time around him by this point to know his explosions of energy could abruptly jackknife into insufferable, melancholy fits.

Jules’ glum line of sight changed course toward the beach. He was eyeing Roscoe and Co., of whom they were still within eyesight. Jackie had joined the group, wearing a resplendent, premature tan beneath his fur and, presumably, enough of something else to avoid getting arrested. Martin couldn’t see any evidence of it from this distance.

“Every time I see him,” Jules said, in a confiding tone, “I get like, this huge urge to rip out a handful of his chest hair.”

“He’d shove a big chain up your ass.”

“What’s he’s talking to Roscoe about?”

“Oh, the usual.” Roscoe’s ear was pointed toward Jackie, but his face appeared to be trained steadily on Martin. Piqued, Martin looked back and casually pressed his hand against the heated fabric between Jules’ shoulder blades. Then, a little ashamed, he looked away. “Recipes. Crochet.” He bumped Jules with his forearm. “Hey,” he asked, “would you?”

“Would I what?” He followed Martin’s nod. “Are you crazy? No!”

“Come on, Jackie’s a specimen. He just came along too late in the game.”

“It hasn’t given him any problems,” Jules noted. “I saw him have this guy on this steel inverted table once, yeah? So his feet were up and his head was down? And he was doing the whole chain-in-ass bit? But he had the other end wrapped around the guy’s neck, so when he shoved the chain in deeper the guy would get choked? And then –”

“And then?”

“Oh, you know. He weighted the guy’s balls.”

“Would have been really gauche if he’d forgotten.”

“But, but then –” Jules lurched through a giddy two-step for balance against a high wave and let himself rock into Martin’s waiting palm. “– He like, he rigged the weights to the chain so the guy would get choked even more.”

The ballet term, Martin recalled from Claudia’s extracurricular years, was épaulement. “Were you in the line of fire?”

“Nah, he was caged up.”

“Why wasn’t I invited to Jackie’s birthday party?”

“It was the guy on the table’s birthday,” Jules said. “It was before you got here.”

In the second it took for Martin to double-check that Roscoe was still keeping an eye on him, Jules, apropos to nothing, hauled back and smacked him hard over the nipple; He bolted, parallel of the shore, tripped up by the surf, but out of reach of Martin’s initial lunge. In the spirit of things, he called out a hapless and theatrical aaaa nooo! Then u-turned into the wet sand, unsuccessfully dodging outraged, promenading twinks who Martin avoided with more dexterity and with what, he hoped, came across as an apologetic and boyish grin.

Jules paused long enough to confirm he was being followed. He turned tail and bolted down the beach with such serious speed Martin was shocked into thinking he’d misread the entire situation. Then, as sometimes happened in pivotal moments, mutual understanding flowed from one to the other and Martin pursued.

These matters weren’t, he knew (had known for years) about playing fair, or about winning or losing, a life lesson Jules was too young to have learned. Right now, the point of the game was staying close enough to absorb the breakneck visual of the kid in motion, clipping blanket edges and darting through frisbee games and swerving, with becoming panic, from the odd illegal dog-off-leash. Martin hopscotched over the hard divots the balls and heels of Jules’ feet gauged out of the sand. An errant wave had soaked one side of his t-shirt and clung greyish to a sketched waist which Martin had, occasionally, recently (sneakily) grasped like an envelope in passing.

Both the pleasure and frustration of plotting the inevitable capture was interrupted by a foreboding creak in Martin’s bad knee – out of an abundance of caution more than pain, he slowed to a crawl and flopped down hard on the opposite thigh. In a minute, Jules flopped down beside him.

“Sorry,” he said, this time.

“Give me a sec, it’s fine.”

“I keep forgetting you’re like, sixty years old.”

“My PT said I’m going to need to swap this one out before I’m sixty.” Martin patted his knee. “Stay out of the trades, pal. Stick to the art.”

“You have, like, a union.” Jules settled lightly behind his back and curved himself, almost imperceptibly, where Martin’s ribs met his spine. He batted sand that didn’t exist from Martin’s bare shoulders, his knuckles gradually descending to the small of his back. Martin, who had been cooled off by the punching and the smacking and the running, sank deeper into the sand and lit up. He understood he would have to stay completely still so the kid could, in his own time, understand what his hands were doing and why they were doing it. “Does it hurt?” Jules asked.

“Nah, I’m tough. And brave.” Jules had a callous on his left forefinger; he deliberately rubbed it over Martin’s vertebrae. “You know,” he struggled, melting a little. “Manly.”

“My bar for manly is like, Jackie’s whole deal,” Jules said, shifting closer. “Just so you’re aware.”

“You want to take a spin on that table, I think.”

“I do not.” His denial lacked the vigor of his previous one, but Martin could believe this tone more. “It’s nice to watch a grown-up guy get tortured for once. All the stuff I was looking up when I was a teenager had girls in it.” With one hand he absently scratched Martin’s ribs and, with a kneading gesture, dug his knuckles into the skin. The other had crept around to lay flat on Martin’s stomach, the little finger searching out the limits of Martin’s waistband. “It was easier to find stuff of girls in latex, in like, the fashion of it. And what it had to, you know, bear up with. Physically. Because sometimes they were wearing it, but they’d also, you know. They were wearing the machines, too. That was interesting to me.”

The image of Jules’ brisk professional relationship with hard heterosexual S&M was one Martin had played with before, stymied only by the fact that Jules only rarely talked past it. He couldn’t imagine his pornographic education beginning any other way.

“So, what,” Martin encouraged, with deceptive lightness. “Insex? Or something like it?”

“Oh, def. I was thirteen. I was way too young.”

Martin had started sodomizing his friends at the mature age of twelve. He considered the wisdom of bringing Jules into this confidence, who now fully rested against Martin’s back with his cheek pressed sidelong of his shoulder. Besides the usual and boisterous arm-over-shoulder crap, Martin had otherwise failed to achieve such sustained and sincere physical closeness. He was saved from panic and premature judgements by some standard social calculation – if they were still safe enough within the gayer parameters of the beach – or somehow worse, if Roscoe was going to come along mother-henning.

“Hey,” Jules said, after some esoteric calculations of his own. “Did you ever see stuff on Rotten? Military executions? Fatal car accidents?”

“On what? Christ, no."

“Did you ever,” he continued, “did you like, catch Claudia on sites like that?”

“Listen –”

“Or was she like, a normal and healthy teenager and shit.”

“I wouldn’t –”

“Due to having such a great and emotionally present dad and all.”

It would have been an easier conversation with their standard two feet of distance in play. Martin turned his head and failed to connect eyes. “Listen,” he repeated, with hard-earned calm and patience. “Let’s not talk about my kid right now, alright?”

“Yeah?” Jules propped himself up on one knee and spoke mildly but firmly. “Is it too weird?”

He was capable of uncanny chameleonic imitations of maturity and self-control, in some conversations; of bigger, taller, stronger, older outlines that Martin, in a hunch, assumed possessed no faces. It was a dissonance of Jules that had long stopped disturbing him but made him feel sad and tender. He broke their closeness enough to match gazes.

“Is it weird for you?” Martin asked.

Unfortunately, Jules had never been afraid of eye contact. Martin had learned he could go a long time without blinking, though now he was forced to squint against blowing sand as he mulled things over.

“If I was a girl,” he concluded, “this would be fucked up and creepy.”

He stood up, burred from the knees-down in grit. Martin was still frequently caught off guard by the fact that he was tall.

“But I’m not,” Jules continued. “So I guess I’m not allowed to think about it like that.”

“If I’ve been making you uncomfortable this whole time, I’d want you to tell me.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Jules said. “Get up.”

No more doting concern about his knee, Martin noted, but his wariness subsided when Jules wrapped their hands together and began leading him along the beach. He wouldn’t have been up to another chase. Jules curved away from the bright, sunshine-y hilarity and far enough toward the cement bordering the park that they passed under the shadows of trees and the unwelcome presence of very small children, whom Jules stonily ignored as they toddled and tripped by the diametrically opposed wayside of preening men who weren’t Jules’ age or Martin’s age but at secret and acceptable times of life simply due to the reality that would never be further considered.

“I like you,” Martin said.

Nothing about Jules altered, neither his pace nor the pressure he used to hold Martin’s hand.

“I’ve liked you for months. But that doesn’t mean anything if you don’t have good feelings about it.”

Jules pulled up beside a set of brick restrooms. Unseasonably warm in mid-May, nothing was open proper despite the tropical bustle. An enterpriser had come along with a bolt-cutter and propped open the doors with cinderblocks.

“I like you too,” Jules said, and yanked Martin into the gents.

Martin, in less than an hour, had weathered about a dozen emotional and erotic dips and jerks. He was rendered suddenly naive and could truly admit he thought Jules was trying to find a place to talk with more privacy; A theory he thought proven when Jules did a cursory sweep of the undersides of the stalls.

“We could just go to –”

Jules lodged his fingertips into Martin’s bicep. “Show it to me,” he interrupted.

“Excuse me,” Martin apologized.

“Take it out. Take it out.” Jules punished his other bicep. His voice threaded upward in reedy demand. “Take it out and show it to me.”

In the half second it took for Martin to get his head together, snatch Jules to his side, and check for the one stall out of three that had a working lock (a chivalrous impulse he’d once been too young and too crude to enact) Jules boiled over with his standard response to any temporary frustration – seething fury. “Do I have to do fucking everything around here?” He bitched as Martin pushed him face first into the stall. “Why does nobody ever fucking listen to me? Is it so fucking hard –”

Martin spun him between the toilet, putting his own back to the stall door. “You’re really lucky you’re as cute as you are. Ever think about that?”

“No.” Jules stroked the divots he’d left on Martin’s arms before letting them roam over his chest. One thumb crooked across the lingering red mark above his nipple. “I didn’t actually mean to hit you hard.”

“It didn’t hurt,” Martin lied. He dipped his head for an impulsive kiss and got the mealy interior of Jules’ ear instead.

“No – just.” Jules rolled the back of his head against Martin’s corrective hand but kept his nails to himself this time. “I asked for the other thing –” he scolded, but let Martin lean in and scrub his face against his dark rumpled hair, something he’d wanted to do for ages. Despite the romping, Jules smelled extremely clean.

“What was that?”

Jules was a lithe, fighting little body. He held no room for leeway or interpretation and Martin, with glee, realized he was finally in the fortunate position to literally feel him get pissed off. “I said it tons! I’m not saying it again! You heard me!”

It occurred to Martin halfway through this lecture that maybe he was nervous about getting his cock out, a notion his hands would not allow. Jules staggered a little when Martin released him to yank his waistband down and haul himself into the open air. Jules yelling at him, he saw, had already done half the hard work of getting him towards fighting weight. An ambiguous sign, he figured.

“Oh,” Jules said. “Okay.” He melted, instantly docile, in the crook of Martin’s arm and smoothed his hot tongue over his jaw while his long, hard hands worked over Martin’s torso and stomach. “That’s nice.”

Martin tried not to arch into it too whorishly. “Let me kiss you,” he said – barely checked it down from a demand, a near miss.

Jules quieted in body; his thumb cruelly poised at the root of Martin’s dick. “Later,” he said.

“Pal…”

“I don’t want our first kiss to be in a toilet,” Jules explained, a little stricken. “I want it to be nice. Don’t try it here, please. I want to so bad, I won’t be able to stop you if you do – please don’t.”

Martin hadn’t been the only one dreaming; he was kind of touched. “You’re really sweet,” he said, feeling Jules up under his shirt with one hand, while the other gently disengaged Jules’ thumb so he could stroke himself. “What do you want with it?”

Jules’ eyes were huge and intent as he watched Martin at work. “Uh, wow,” he whispered, inanely.

“You like it?”

“You look really good.” Clear questions got clear answers. Martin was uncertain whether his brain was absorbing these important lessons as he got himself as hard as he could possibly stand without doing something profoundly stupid and cruel to the suddenly gentle little crush resting on his chest. “I like you so much, you’re so nice to me, you’re so nice to me, can I touch it?”

Martin held him with both arms as Jules granted his balls an obligatory grasp, a courtesy gesture before he moved along to other matters.

His actions, unlike his communication, hadn’t been affected by nerves or horniness – Jules explored him with near-sterile perfunctory skill that had Martin jerking and grunting. He imagined the kid lounging alone in front of his shitty laptop, taking in with slitted, businesslike meanness some bound, rubberized doll pumped and dripping around silicone rods stuffed in every hole, and when Jules’ warm palm slid accidentally over the head of his cock, he was exhilaratingly freed from every social nicety and moral doubt that kept him from indulging his suit – his promise to Roscoe, that Jules was young enough to be his son, that he’d said I won’t be able to stop you, that he was an alone and unprotected anonymous little cocksucker, a spontaneous animal slut who yanked his shirt up in the toilet stall to offer up the skin of his belly and still yipped with shock when Martin shoved him against the dispenser to fuck against his guts – all these incidentals twined into a single cord whose bite only enhanced the glamor of the trap.

Jules clawed open Martin’s bare back, chanting the stimulating but unfulfilled demands sluts always said to work themselves up into a frenzy – fuck me! I wanna suck you so bad! – interspersed with tender requests that Jules could, apparently, say in times like these.

“Be nice to me, be nice to me, be nice to me –”

Martin seized his ass and rammed his near-hairless stomach. He would have punched a new hole through it, if he could, a nasty companion for his cute little navel.

“Ple-eaaaaaase be nice to me, I’ll be good, I’ll be good, I’ll be good all the time –”

“I am fucking nice –” Martin bit out, with huge effort. “I’m a nice fucking man to you.”

Jules bounced energetically in his grip and uttered little ah! ah! ah!s in cooperative tandem, as if he really were being fucked, or imagining being fucked. “I wanna be good forever,” he moaned, then sighed and relaxed, a subtle cue Martin’s body recognized through the heat, and swiftly honored.

Martin grabbed his cock to more accurately pump his orgasm up and across Jules’ stomach – his enthusiasm, fueled by a few months of erotic repression, overshot the mark and he ended up nailing Jules’ chest and collarbone. He’d twisted Jules’ shirt up and away in a grip so tight his knuckles whitened, creating a slightly more violent image than he cared for the first afterglow, with Jules’ arms pressed and trapped against the stall, eyes clamped shut, the rest of him shivering. Martin pressed their heads together – he stroked his waist and hair, touched his face, checked over his front and found him compellingly flat in the groin.

“Pal,” he said. He rubbed them cheek to cheek. “Sweetheart.”

“Oh god,” Jules said. He opened one eye. “What did I say?”

“Nothing I didn’t want to hear.”

“Oh. Okay.” He laid his head down on Martin’s shoulder and sniffled. Reality and its exposure made Martin tug him closer – he could feel the dents the boxed edges of the toilet paper dispenser made low against Jules’ skin. “Do you still like me?”

He’d wised up to something unconsciously within the last five minutes and didn’t dare challenge Jules on why he’d ask such a question.

“I like you,” Martin said. “I like you so much.”

“Okay. That’s good. Okay.” But Jules stayed where he was and didn’t stop shaking until tepid streams of salty tears were well established down Martin’s raked shoulder.

They’d made a mess; One sink was wrapped in yellow caution tape. The second spat out lukewarm dribbles. The third gushed ice-cold torrents one had to attempt to catch in his cupped hands while the other pounded the press-tap and got his chest slapped with wet hands. Jules perked up at the chance to swat Martin around some more, who considered revising his standing theory that Jules was merely emotionally sadistic.

A harried father strolled through the entryway at an emergency trot, towing a kindergartener fast by the wrist – Jules and Martin scurried away snappish.

“Goddammit, I ripped you up.” Jules touched his back, which was beginning to burn a little.

“Oh, sure.” Martin threw his arm around Jules’ struggling shoulder. His body hummed like a transmission tower – he doubted he would ever worry about anything ever again. “Who cares?”

“They’re gonna notice –”

“I’ll put my shirt on.”

“– Jackie’ll probably smell it –”

“He probably can.” Jules grunted with dismay. “Pal, what would happen if you relaxed for more than two seconds at a time? Jackie’s the last person who could judge you.”

“It matters what Roscoe thinks of me,” Jules answered duly.

Roscoe had once been a sixteen-year-old twerp who’d been terrified of Martin. And now the hot little punk de jour under his arm was anxious about his opinion. Martin would have been happier for Roscoe’s turnaround of maturity and status, but, bound up as he was in his own worries, Martin doubted he had the slightest clue how Jules felt.

“We’re going to have to talk about this,” Martin said, when the walk turned solemn.

“I know.”

“Soon. I’m talking hours, not days.” He was determined not to give up any ground.

“I have to work tonight,” Jules said. He gazed blindly across the sand then seemed stricken with inspiration. “But I – Maybe. Hey. You want to come see a movie with me, tomorrow?”

“A what? Yeah.” He tried to recall the last time he’d been spontaneously asked on a date. He came up embarrassingly short. “Yes, absolutely. Of course.”

“We can talk after,” Jules said. He sounded very somber about it. Clay, Roscoe and Jackie were increasingly large smudges in the distance. Martin gave Jules a couple inches of personal space and the kid reached out and touched his ribs gently, with some finality. His hand fell away.

“You know,” Martin joked, trying to lighten the melancholy, “if you let me give you a piggyback ride, we could cover up my back that way.”

Clay’s crooked white umbrella, a hundred yards off, flashed ultra-visible. Jules sought it out and appeared briefly mesmerized by the sight. He looked backward at Martin with an expression he couldn’t even begin to interpret. “Just because I’m smaller than you” Jules said, “doesn’t mean I’m actually small.”

Martin’s knee radiated, a protesting throb. He waited in vain for the mutual understanding to flow. The valve had burst open once before that day, it could happen again. They stood there uselessly in the lack. But Jules didn’t wait on intangible things – he waited on Martin.

He jerked his head. “I’m not going back there alone.”

Martin grew up. “No,” he said. “You’re not.” And stepped forward.

#safeworld #2008 #art by Matt Lifson #happy belated fathers day everybody

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shiningwonderland · 1 year

Text

Reiji Kotobuki (All Star)

Translator: Belen (Twitter: reiharus)

Proofreader: Raine (Twitter: amagiyas)

Editors: Mae (Twitter: itoshikimaegirl), Noemi (Twitter: dreaminbeyond)

Chapter Two — Melancholic, Lonely Boy

Ryuya Hyuga: Hey, what’s up, Haruka? You don’t seem well. Are you tired from being Reiji pushing you around?

Haruka Nanami: No, it’s not that….

It's early November, about two weeks after the unit meeting.

In the end, Kotobuki-senpai took his words back by saying: “Just kidding! Nyahahahaha!”

After all of that, as Kotobuki-senpai’s partner, I’m still in charge of composing his songs.

In the meantime, in order to learn, I've been helping the ever-busy Kotobuki-senpai with his work but....

Haruka Nanami: Kotobuki-senpai is busier than I thought….

He consistently appears in three variety shows and one radio show a week.

He’s starring in three dramas and will soon appear in two more.

There are also interviews and photo shoots in between all of that. Moreover, weekly and fashion magazines, as well as other serializations.

On top of that, he also helps out his family who runs a lunch box shop.

It’s quite tough.

It’s very difficult to meet up at every location to make deliveries.

And in the midst of it all, I’m still composing the unit song.

No matter where I look, things are busy, but Kotobuki-senpai is always making preparations in between locations.

I have to do my best too!

Ryuya Hyuga: Yeah, his adaptability is very effective. He’s useful everywhere, has been in the business for a while, and has a lot of connections.

Haruka Nanami: Yes.

Ryuya Hyuga: Well, that usually means being a jack of all trades and master of none. As a student, he would get good grades but didn’t have a specific selling point.

Ryuya Hyuga: His way of life is all scattered about, he acts like everybody’s friend…. I started thinking that he was a fool….

Ryuya Hyuga; I think that even if it limits your options, it's better to find your main skill.

Hyuga-sensei sighs as if he's worried.

Haruka Nanami: Hyuga-sensei… you knew Kotobuki-senpai during his student days?

Ryuya Hyuga: Hm? Yeah. At that time, Saotome Academy was already a very important training school for the office. Even after graduating, students still dropped by every now and then.

Ryuya Hyuga: I was also his instructor during the Master Course.

Haruka Nanami: What? Really?

Ryuya Hyuga: Yeah. He caused so much trouble. It was a real pain. He was friendly but had a habit of tagging along and not listening to what people had to say. He was selfish and clingy. Really, what a troublemaker.

Hehe, even as he says that, he looks happy remembering it.

Haruka Nanami: Ah, then, Sensei. Do you know Kei Otonami and Hibiki Katagiri?

Ryuya Hyuga: Yes, they were Reiji’s friends of course. They were always together and were known as "the foul-mouthed one," "the one with a bad personality," and "the dumb one."

The foul-mouthed one was Kei, the one with a bad personality was Hibiki, and the dumb one was Reiji.

Hyuga-sensei explains all of it meticulously.

It feels very refreshing to hear about a Kotobuki-senpai that I don’t know.

I knew he was older than me and had accumulated a lot of experience but....

The more I learn about him, the more I want to know.

Ryuya Hyuga: So, how do you know those guys?

Haruka Nanami: Actually, we met last month after a recording. They were having a meeting next to Senpai’s dressing room.

Ryuya Hyuga: I see. They seem to be doing fine.

Hyuga-sensei's eyes narrow.

Ryuya Hyuga: Those two were excellent. It’s a shame that incident happened, otherwise the four would still be at our agency....

Haruka Nanami: Incident?

After my question, Hyuga-sensei looks like he's said too much.

What incident did he mean?

And "the four" he just mentioned....

Haruka Nanami: So, Hyuga-sensei, about that….

Ryuya Hyuga: Nah, it’s nothing, please forget it.

Hyuga-sensei waves his hands in front of his face as if a little panicked.

Haruka Nanami: Ah… Okay….

Ryuya Hyuga: By the way, didn’t you come to pick up Reiji’s documents? You should get going. At this rate, you'll be late.

Haruka Nanami: Ah, that’s right!

Today, Kotobuki-senpai has been doing magazine shoots since morning.

Since he's busy with that, I made a promise to come pick up some materials from the office and bring them back for him.

I’ll be late if I don’t hurry!

Ryuya Hyuga: Hurry and go! Your partner is waiting for you all by himself.

Haruka Nanami: Right, I’m heading off now!

Ryuya Hyuga: And don’t spoil him too much! He’ll get carried away.

Haruka Nanami: Yes!

Hyuga-sensei sends me off as I rush out of the office with the documents.

Haruka Nanami: Ha… I made it somehow.

When I arrive at the studio, Kotobuki-senpai is still in the middle of shooting.

Cameraman: Well, Rei-chan, can you do three more poses?

Reiji Kotobuki: Eh? I’m tired~ Hold on, hold on~

Kotobuki-senpai pretends to collapse and people in the studio laugh.

Cameraman: Okay, how about we take a little break and then shoot the last three poses?

At those words, the studio collectively relaxes and the tired staff members sigh.

Haruka Nanami: Haha, that's just like Kotobuki-senpai.

Not much time has passed since I became his assistant.

After seeing him at so many locations, I've begun to notice how Kotobuki-senpai worries about everyone on site.

He’s always taking the initiative to make sure both the staff and entertainers can perform in their best condition.

If everyone is tired, he casually asks for a break.

That's one of Kotobuki-senpai's amazing traits that you wouldn't notice without paying attention.

But….

I’m still concerned about his words from last month: “You shouldn’t partner with me.”

Was that really a joke?

Reiji Kotobuki: Alrighty, Rei-chan is all charged up! Let’s do our best one last time, EY EY OOOH~!!

They fix his makeup, the stylist checks him over again, and the lights are adjusted.

It only takes Kotobuki-senpai standing in front of the background for a pleasant wave of excitement to run through the studio.

Reiji Kotobuki: Now, take a photo of me looking handsome.

Cameraman: But doesn’t Rei-chan always look handsome?

Reiji Kotobuki: Ah, that’s right, I forgot.

Cameraman: Okay, let’s go.

With every click of the shutter, Kotobuki-senpai changes his poses and facial expression, turning towards the camera.

Cameraman: Yes, this is good.

Cameraman: Could we have your eyes look away from the camera? You might lose some appeal, though.

Reiji Kotobuki: Well, that could be okay for the concept we're going for. It'll be good if we introduce a coolness factor. How about this sidelong glance?

Cameraman: Ah, that’s good, let’s go with that.

They check the photos on the monitors and make quick corrections.

Seeing him like this, Kotobuki-senpai looks so cool….

He’s usually fun and gentle, but he’ll make firm decisions when it’s important.

Being with him is so much fun and I’ve learned a lot. I’d like to stay as Kotobuki-senpai’s partner forever.

I really want to improve at having conversations and communicating with the staff, so I’ll follow his example.

I continue watching Kotobuki-senpai with these thoughts in my mind, but then I get the impression that he sees me and smiles at me.

What’s this, my heart is pounding….

And my face seems hot…. Did I catch a cold?

I'm just putting my hand against my forehead when I hear the cameraman’s resounding voice.

Cameraman: Well, okay. That’s a wrap! Rei-chan, good job.

Reiji Kotobuki: Good job, everyone!

Kotobuki-senpai bows his head quickly and the staff applauds the successful end of the photo shoot.

Haruka Nanami: Good morn—

Reiji Kotobuki: Morning! Huh? Have you caught a cold? Your face is all red.

Once the shooting is finished, Senpai greets me by waving his hands and coming over.

Haruka Nanami: No, I guess it’s different from a cold….

Reiji Kotobuki: Don’t tell me you’re crushing on me after seeing how cool I looked back there~?

Haruka Nanami: What? T-that’s….

Reiji Kotobuki: Nah, just joking, joking. But since you were here all this time, did you see that heated gaze?

Kotobuki-senpai smirks.

Ehh, it seems he was watching me.

Haruka Nanami: S-sorry… I was curious. It was wonderful.

Reiji Kotobuki: What are you apologizing for? Ah, by the way, you went for that errand, right? Nice job.

Ah, that’s right.

Haruka Nanami: I’m sorry for being late.

I hurriedly bow.

Reiji Kotobuki: It’s alright; you made it in time. It’s just that because you’re always so fast, I was surprised that you took your time.

Reiji Kotobuki: Could it be that a certain somebody at the office was speaking ill of me?

Kotobuki-senpai looks at me with a grin.

Select the phrase!

S-sorry. But… (+20 Love)

Haruka Nanami: S-sorry. But… it wasn't anything bad. Rather, Hyuga-sensei told me some cute things about you and I couldn’t help it….

Reiji Kotobuki: Is that so? Well~ I have a good relationship with Ryuya-senpai, yup!

Haruka Nanami: You seem really close.

Reiji Kotobuki: But Ryuya-senpai is not honest at all~ I’m sure he kept saying stuff like how I was disobedient and annoyingly clingy, right?

Haruka Nanami: Yes. ... Waaah!

I realize what I've said after nodding.

Reiji Kotobuki: Pffft, hahahahaha!

I said the truth without realizing it!

Reiji Kotobuki: Yeeeah Kouhai-chan, you really can’t lie, hm. Very cute.

Kotobuki-senpai looks at me, amused.

This is… so embarrassing….

Reiji Kotobuki: Well, Ryuya-senpai knows lots about me after all….

Haruka Nanami: I heard you were in the Master Course together.

Reiji Kotobuki: That's right. At that time, Ryuya-senpai had just debuted and we would hang out and have fun together.

Reiji Kotobuki: But, of course, he also took care of me. He used to give me advice and cheered me up when I was feeling down.

Haruka Nanami: I see.

Kotobuki-senpai talks about his memories.

Staff: Kotobuki-san, since we’re done here, could we please ask you to leave?

It seems like so much time has passed that a staff member had to ask us to leave.

Kotobuki-senpai replies airily and starts packing up.

Haruka Nanami: Senpai, here are the materials.

I hand Kotobuki-senpai the script I picked up at the office.

Reiji Kotobuki: Thanks. Let’s see… In the next “Welcome to Idol Las Vegas!”.... WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!

Kotobuki-senpai screams after flipping through the pages of the script.

Haruka Nanami: What, what’s wrong?

Reiji Kotobuki: WHAT’S THIS? “Idol Singing Competition! Shining Agency Battle: Reiji Kotobuki vs. Ai Mikaze”!!

He spreads the script wide open in front of me.

I take a look and it seems like they have to prepare new songs and compete with them.

Haruka Nanami: This is tough…. And you’re both in the unit song for the Christmas live.

Reiji Kotobuki: Well there’s that, but that’s not the worst part.

Reiji Kotobuki: My opponent is Ai Mikaze! The guy that people call “machine-like perfect,” that Ai-Ai!!

Reiji Kotobuki: And it’s one-on-one, so there’s no way out…. Do you know what this means?!

Haruka Nanami: But your singing is very good too... and your performances are gorgeous. I guess even I’d like to see it….

Kotobuki-senpai interrupts me and complains while making a very serious face.

Reiji Kotobuki: Ah~ You don't understand. There’s also the Song Festival in March, right?

Reiji Kotobuki: The result of the competition could greatly affect our chances at the festival. It’s a pretty big problem.

Haruka Nanami: Thinking about it like that, it really is a lot of pressure….

Reiji Kotobuki: And it would probably be more exciting for the audience if I were to lose on the show.... What a tough decision.

Kotobuki-senpai is always thinking about the big picture and how to act in accordance with that. He doesn't think about himself, but rather how he can benefit the most people.

Haruka Nanami: It's just the program plan, so maybe Mikaze-senpai will attend with the intention of enjoying himself?

Reiji Kotobuki: It’s Ai-Ai we’re talking about! Always perfect, always full power! He'll come to win against me for sure.

Haruka Nanami: That’s true, Mikaze-senpai is very rational so he will come with a strategy that allows him to win.

I wanted to make Senpai feel better even if it was just a bit, but it looks like it backfired.

Kotobuki-senpai closes the script.

Reiji Kotobuki: There’s no chance.... Unless we manage to turn the tables while keeping the flavor of the variety show, this is impossible.

Kotobuki-senpai holds his head and shakes it left to right.

Staff: Um, Kotobuki-san… the next session is about to begin soon so….

And so, we are driven out of the studio by the staff.

Reiji Kotobuki: Well, we’ve got a lot of time until the next job begins, what should we do~?

I look at the schedule. The next job, which begins at night, is a recording at a music TV station.

Kotobuki-senpai heads towards the parking lot.

Haruka Nanami: Oh, Senpai, you came by car today?

Reiji Kotobuki: Oh yeah, I returned to my family's home last night and came straight from there. Isn’t it cute?

Kotobuki-senpai points to his car.

It’s a lovely car with a round shape.

If I had to compare it to anything, it looks like an insect, a beetle....

The bright green car is parked as if waiting for its master.

Kotobuki-senpai stops to think for a moment beside the car and taps it.

Reiji Kotobuki: Ah… If you’d like, we can go early and listen to your song. We’ve been neglecting it recently, huh?

Haruka Nanami: Oh, is that all right?

Reiji Kotobuki: It’s a bit sudden, but do you have a music player?

Haruka Nanami: Yes, I carry it around so that we can listen at any time.

Reiji Kotobuki: Okay, okay. That’s the spirit. This is perfect for me too, so let's head there together by car.

Kotobuki-senpai takes the car keys from his pocket and unlocks it.

Reiji Kotobuki: Alright, get in, get in~~

Haruka Nanami: Y-yes!

Kotobuki-senpai opens the passenger door.

I’m a bit nervous because it’s my first time riding in his car.

Reiji Kotobuki: Come on, don’t be nervous. I’m pretty good at driving. Or should I escort you?

Haruka Nanami: Ah, that’s…

I'm really just confused because I'd never ridden a car alone with a man, but like he's unsatisfied with my reaction....

Reiji Kotobuki: Now, my lady. Welcome to my car. I’ll become your feet and take you anywhere you desire.

He gently places one hand on my waist and takes my hand with the other to gently guide me sit down on the passenger seat.

This behavior makes my heart race all of a sudden.

Haruka Nanami: T-thank you very much….

Kotobuki-senpai closes the door and sits down in the driver’s seat.

Reiji Kotobuki: Don’t forget to put on your seat belt. All aboard~!! Beep, beep!!

Kotobuki-senpai starts the engine and steps on the accelerator pedal.

Like he said, he's very good at driving and often overtakes other cars.

It’s said that men who drive are cool, but this seems to be a different charm than usual.

Reiji Kotobuki: Really though, it’s been a while since I’ve had a girl in my passenger seat~ And such a cute one too! I can show off my skills. So, how’s my driving?

Haruka Nanami: I think you’re very skilled. You're also careful. It feels gentle.

Reiji Kotobuki: ... Kouhai-chan, uhm…. Thanks. I’ll just say thanks for now.

Reiji Kotobuki: But you know, don't you think you should butt in there? Don't you want to know?

Haruka Nanami: …?

Reiji Kotobuki: The…. Look, what I said about the passenger seat before.

Haruka Nanami: Ooh, about how it’s been a while since you’ve had a woman here?

Haruka Nanami: I was surprised since you are such a wonderful person.

Reiji Kotobuki: Didn’t see that one coming… haha. What a shame. It’s usually….

Haruka Nanami: What?

Reiji Kotobuki: What kind of people I’ve given a ride to…. What kinds of places we went to…. What kinds of things we did....

Kotobuki-senpai turns his left hand and points behind the passenger's seat.

Reiji Kotobuki: Stuff like that, aren’t you curious? Not even a bit?

Kotobuki-senpai looks me in the eye, his gentle smile making my heart skip a beat.

Haruka Nanami: S-Senpai!! W-watch the road!

Reiji Kotobuki: Yes, yes. Sorry, sorry. I guess you’re pure~ I wonder where I put my purity~

Reiji Kotobuki: By the way, since romance is forbidden for idols, the only women who have been in that seat are my mother and my big sister.

Saying that happily, he looks forward and continues to drive.

That behavior and the way he acted as my escort before, it all comes so naturally to him….

Before me is a senpai I don’t know. It makes me feel a bit of a gap in our maturity, as if somebody like me can't address him properly.

Senpai’s past. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.

When I become aware of that, I feel a slight pain in my chest.

Reiji Kotobuki: Haaa…. But still…. The song battle against Ai-Ai....

Kotobuki-senpai sighs as he remembers.

He detests the idea of competing against Mikaze-senpai that much.

I have to act as his partner and encourage him.

Select the phrase!

Since it’s Kotobuki-senpai, it’ll be fine! (+30 Love)

Haruka Nanami: It’s you we’re talking about, so it’ll be alright. I’m sure you can do it!!

Reiji Kotobuki: Wha...? What makes you think that? My opponent is Ai-Ai! The one who can sing almost anything from enka to rap!

Haruka Nanami: Oh, is that so?

What a catchphrase!

Reiji Kotobuki: Really, it may sound like I’m exaggerating, but his repertoire is enormous and his technique is ultra-leveled.

Haruka Nanami: But you have your wonderful expressiveness! I love your songs!!

Reiji Kotobuki: That so? That’d be great and all but aren’t you spoiling me? Ryuya-senpai's gonna scold you.

Kotobuki-senpai looks at me happily.

Haruka Nanami: No, rather than a compliment, it’s how I truly feel.

Reiji Kotobuki: Thanks! If it’s Kouhai-chan saying it, it must be true, right? Alright! I’ll do my best so that I can show you something good!

Haruka Nanami: Yes! I support you!!

Reiji Kotobuki: Okaaay then, let’s defeat Ai-Ai! EY EY OOOH!! OUCH!!

Kotobuki-senpai raises his fist and hits the roof of the car.

Haruka Nanami: A-are you alright?!

He shakes his hand to make the pain go away like nothing happened.

That sounded very painful, but it seems he’s okay now!

We arrive at the TV station safely and are able to use the dressing room since it's open.

Haruka Nanami: Okay, let me prepare.

I turn on my laptop and start the music production software.

Haruka Nanami: Please listen.

Kotobuki-senpai nods and I play the demo.

SONG: "QUARTET NIGHT" (S RANK)

Reiji Kotobuki: BRILLIANT!! Wonderful!!

Kotobuki-senpai raises his hands and stands up from the chair.

Haruka Nanami: T-thank you very much.

Reiji Kotobuki: It keeps getting better and better! At this rate, you’re going to knock me out!!

Haruka Nanami: Yes.

I’m glad, it seems like it was a big success!

After listening to the song, I head to a studio with Kotobuki-senpai for some recording.

It's there I recognize two figures across the hallway….

Reiji Kotobuki: Oops, I’m seeing you guys a lot lately…. Could it be that you keep following me? It's hard being famous, huh~

Otonami-san and Katagiri-san.

Hibiki Katagiri: That’s some confidence. I’m jealous of such positivity. Your little junior looks surprised too.

Haruka Nanami: Otonami-san, Katagiri-san, good morning.

Their gazes silently collide and I feel stuck between them.

Although I greet them, they act as if I'm invisible.

Kei Otonami: After the other day, I looked you up.

Ignoring my greeting, Otonami-san speaks to me.

Haruka Nanami: What….

Kei Otonami: Although you passed the graduation audition at Saotome Academy without a partner, you have been unable to debut for a year and a half. If you don’t produce good results at the Christmas Live and the Music Festival, you will be fired.

Haruka Nanami: ….

It’s the truth, but once again my mind goes blank and I can’t say anything.

Kei Otonami: Even so, you seem very relaxed, as if you have zero problems.

Haruka Nanami: S-sorry….

Reiji Kotobuki: Wait, wait, are you bullying my Kouhai-chan?

Otonami-san stares quietly after being interrupted by Kotobuki-senpai.

His eyes are cold and sharp, as if they could stab their opponent at any moment.

I have never seen eyes that could send chills down a spine like that.

Kei Otonami: I’m not. I just stated the truth. Was it wrong?

Hibiki Katagiri: But you sound so scary…. Merciless as usual. By the way, did you get the script?

Reiji Kotobuki: Script…? Which one are you talking about? I have so much work I get a lot of them.

Hibiki Katagiri: Of course the one for “Welcome to Idol Las Vegas!! Idol Singing Battle!”

Reiji Kotobuki: Could it be…?

Kotobuki-senpai pulls the script from his bag.

When I look at the script from beside Kotobuki-senpai, I see the names of Otonami-san and Katagiri-san written in the credits.

Producer, Hibiki Katagiri.

Music director, Kei Otonami….

This….

Reiji Kotobuki: Well, this new form of bullying isn’t very mature. Is it that fun to tease me?

Hibiki Katagiri: What? We’re just interested in Ai Mikaze. You think so too, right? That Ai Mikaze and Aine are related in some way.

Reiji Kotobuki: ….

Kotobuki-senpai falls silent.

Related? What does that mean?

Haruka Nanami: Um….

Kei Otonami: Kotobuki-kun, have you explained to her properly? About what kind of person you are, and how you managed to stay alive in this world. Not saying anything is basically deception. It’s like saying you won’t lose if you don’t fight.

Reiji Kotobuki: Is that so? All that talk about undeserved victories, not that I dislike them.

Kei Otonami: I do. It seems like we don’t have the same opinions on life.

Then, Otonami-san turns to me.

Kei Otonami: It would be better not to choose a coward like him as a partner. This is my warning to you.

Haruka Nanami: I… don’t think that way!

I deny his statement with a loud voice and as firmly as possible.

Kotobuki-senpai looks at me, surprised.

But I can’t keep quiet anymore!

Haruka Nanami: K-Kotobuki-senpai is always kind and takes care of everyone! He always says what he has to. He’s not a coward!

After that, everyone goes quiet for a bit.

Kei Otonami: You shouldn’t speak like that when you don’t know a thing.

Haruka Nanami: It’s true I barely know Senpai, but....

Kei Otonami: Why do you think he hasn’t had a partner for so long?

Otonami-san asks abruptly.

Haruka Nanami: That’s….

I’m desperately trying to think of an answer....

Haruka Nanami: Sorry, I don’t know.

Finding the answer to this isn’t easy, since I don’t have enough information.

I try to think about it but I can’t come up with anything.

Kei Otonami: You understand nothing. He’s a man that lives without a care in the world. And you don’t get that you’re in a blessed position too….

Reiji Kotobuki: Stop right there! This is between you and me, leave her alone.

Haruka Nanami: Kotobuki-senpai….

Reiji Kotobuki: If I haven’t told her anything, it’s because I did not want to get her involved. I’ll explain everything properly to her from now on.

Otonami-san stares at us for a while.

And then walks away without saying anything.

Hibiki Katagiri: Hey, Kei, wait! You too, try to understand it a little.

Katagiri-san sighs as he says that.

Reiji Kotobuki: Even if I tried to understand, it wouldn’t make a difference, would it?

Hibiki Katagiri: That attitude only provokes him.... I’ll leave the recording to you. You have a chance to fight with Aine again.

Reiji Kotobuki: ….

Hibiki Katagiri: Sorry about that. Please don’t worry about it.

After saying that to me, Katagiri-san follows after Otonami-san.

Reiji Kotobuki: Why has it come to this…. You guys aren’t the only ones who are in pain.

Kotobuki-senpai leans against the wall quietly.

Reiji Kotobuki: I’m sorry for getting you involved again! Seriously those two, always with those indiscriminate attacks.

Haruka Nanami: I’m fine, um….

Assistant Director: Kotobuki-san, rehearsal is about to start! Are you ready?

Just as I'm trying to reply, the AD comes for Kotobuki-senpai.

Amidst the fight, time apparently passed quickly.

Reiji Kotobuki: I will explain properly when this is over. Also, thank you for defending me, it made me happy.

Kotobuki-senpai smiles a bit and heads to the studio.

Then, as expected from Kotobuki-senpai, he finishes recording as if nothing had happened.

Haruka Nanami: Good job! Are you feeling alright?

Reiji Kotobuki: Yes, good job! It’s not so much that I can't handle it. Want to go out for dinner?

Kotobuki-senpai claps his hands together.

I was going to decline, as the incident from before made me quite tired….

Reiji Kotobuki: Ah, by the way! Might as well bring you to a nice place! I’ve been there recently, it was pretty good.

Haruka Nanami: If it's alright, I’ll be happy to go!

If it makes Kotobuki-senpai so cheerful, I’ll follow him anywhere.

Reiji Kotobuki: Yaaay!! Let’s go, go!

Kotobuki-senpai takes my wrist and we head to the parking lot.

Reiji Kotobuki: Okay, now, cheeers~~

Kotobuki-senpai takes me to a wonderful place for important people in the industry.

At the entrance of the underground parking lot there is a strong guard, as you can’t enter without a membership card or a referral.

He's allowed in just by saying his name and showing his face.

Senpai’s influence can be felt from how politely they treat him.

You can enter directly by taking an elevator from the basement, so that you don’t have to mix with the general public.

We contacted them in advance, so they lead us to a private room as soon as we arrive. The food and drinks have been prepared as well.

Reiji Kotobuki: So, do you like it? Feel free to eat to your heart’s content, it’s my treat.

Haruka Nanami: Yes! Thank you so much! I didn’t know there were places like this.

It's like we’re in another world.

The atmosphere and level are just so different from the places I frequent, everything feels so new to me.

I guess these are the so-called “industry things” that people talk about.

Reiji Kotobuki: Hahaha, that’s a nice reaction. You’ve had your mouth open the whole time.

When Kotobuki-senpai points that out, I close my mouth instinctively.

Reiji Kotobuki: Bringing you here was a good idea. So let me surprise you a bit more~

He presses a button on the wall….

Haruka Nanami: Waaah!

The large monitor in the room turns on and familiar images start flowing on the screen.

Haruka Nanami: There’s karaoke too!

The latest music videos are playing on the screen.

Reiji Kotobuki: Yeaaah! That’s right! Surprised? Since Kouhai-chan likes music so much... And on top of that, we can practice for the singing battle!

Kotobuki-senpai reaches for the hidden storage in the wall. He takes out a microphone and maracas, then stands by.

Reiji Kotobuki: It’s been a while since I’ve done karaoke~ So, what do you want to sing?

Haruka Nanami: Wha—me? But that’s….

Reiji Kotobuki: Eeeh, but this is for you, right? Come on, come on.

Kotobuki-senpai shoves the microphone at me.

Well, it seems like I can’t refuse.

What should I sing….

Select the phrase!

Idol song (+15 Love)

Haruka Nanami: Then, of course it’ll be….

Since I’m with Kotobuki-senpai, I choose a classic idol song.

Reiji Kotobuki: AN IDOL SONG IS COOOOOOMING!

He shakes the maracas as the intro starts.

Reiji Kotobuki: GO! GO! GO! GO! KOUHAI-CHAAAAN!!

Waaah, he's even doing calls, thank you so much.

And when I finish singing….

Reiji Kotobuki: Kouhai-chan, that was incredibly cute! How about debuting as a unit with me?

He snaps his fingers and winks at me.

Reiji Kotobuki: Kouhai-chan, you’re so good~!

Haruka Nanami: Aah, thank you very much.

Reiji Kotobuki: Alright, now it’s my turn~

Kotobuki-senpai plays the song.

A sparkling intro emanates from the speaker.

Reiji Kotobuki: You must not fall in love with me, my lady.

Kotobuki-senpai squeezes the microphone and starts singing the idol song.

He performs perfectly as if in front of a camera.

Even the words at the beginning sounded like a part of the actual song.

Haruka Nanami: Whoaaa….

Kotobuki-senpai is sparkling and dazzling…. And having so much fun as well.

He’s singing to me alone under the glittering mirror ball.

I forget to shake the maracas because I can’t stop staring at him.

Reiji Kotobuki: Thank you!!

He throws in a blown kiss at the end.

E-enchanting!

Haruka Nanami: K-Kotobuki-senpai, you were so cool!! Please sing some more!!

Reiji Kotobuki: Ah, really? You're making me blush~

He chooses the next song.

The next one is a very sweet love song.

Reiji Kotobuki: Hold me… tonight.

Murmuring that, Kotobuki-senpai’s mellow voice fills the room.

He gives me a gentle shoulder embrace to go with it.

Soon after that, he begins singing, and I can hear his breaths.

Accompanied by a heart-wrenching gaze.

Him fixing his eyes on me makes my body heat up….

Reiji Kotobuki: What’s up, your face is all red. Can it be… you’re embarrassed?

When he finishes singing, Kotobuki-senpai looks at my face as if suspecting something.

Haruka Nanami: No, it’s just…. You’re lovely….

Reiji Kotobuki: Really? Well then, tonight I’ll do a recital just for you.

Kotobuki-senpai then gives me my very own recital and sings until I'm satisfied.

Aaah, this is true bliss!

After singing for a while, we eat dinner while making small talk.

I wonder how much time has passed….

Suddenly the conversation stops and silence follows for a bit.

Reiji Kotobuki: Well… about what happened before.

As if he has been looking for a chance to speak, Kotobuki-senpai makes up his mind and says that.

What happened before….

Haruka Nanami: The things Otonami-san said?

Kotobuki-senpai nods at my question.

Reiji Kotobuki: Yes…. Have you ever heard about an idol disappearance incident?

Haruka Nanami: No, I haven't.

Reiji Kotobuki: I see. The thing is, it happened long ago: a new idol from the Shining Agency disappeared….

Kotobuki-senpai tells me the story.

Long ago, an idol that had graduated from Saotome Academy disappeared while he was filming a movie.

He was an excellent idol and seemed to be very involved with his work.

Apparently the role he was playing was very mentally demanding. It was said that might have been the cause of the disappearance.

Although it was reported in the news once, it’s treated as a taboo topic in the entertainment industry because no-one found out the truth, and it faded away.

It seems like very few people know about it nowadays.

Such a thing happened….

Haruka Nanami: Okay, but what does it have to do with what Otonami-san said…?

Reiji Kotobuki: That idol was my best friend, and also his partner.

What….

I look at him, shocked.

Haruka Nanami: But… what does his disappearance have to do with you?

At my question, Kotobuki-senpai lowers his eyes.

Reiji Kotobuki: He made a phone call… right before he disappeared….

He says that as if he has decided to open up.

Reiji Kotobuki: I…. Right at that time I was doing my debut audition…. I couldn't pick up the phone…. No, it wasn’t just that I couldn't pick it up. I threw myself into my own things. I didn’t realize that my best friend was hurting. Even though he called several times, my top priority was myself back then. Even though he was going through so much, I didn't notice. I did something terrible, and by the time I realized, he wasn’t there anymore… I couldn’t help him at all....

Kotobuki-senpai’s expression becomes clouded.

So that’s what happened….

Otonami-san left the agency out of remorse for not being able to help his partner.

Katagiri-san had an argument with the president and quit as well. He also stopped composing.

Reiji Kotobuki: Even now, those two do not think well of me surviving in the agency. There’s no helping it if they think I sacrificed my best friend for my own success.

He bites his lip.

So that’s… what happened….

The disappearance of his best friend….

I look at Kotobuki-senpai's face as he's facing down, looking pained.

Haruka Nanami: Could that person be Aine-san?

Reiji Kotobuki: Yes, Aine Kisaragi.

He then teaches me how you write it with the kanji for “February” and “love sound.”

Ah… but….

Haruka Nanami: What did they mean by you can “fight with Aine”?

I remember Katagiri-san’s words.

Reiji Kotobuki: Ai-Ai looks exactly like Aine. The face, the voice….

Haruka Nanami: What? Mikaze-senpai?

Reiji Kotobuki: I was surprised when I saw Ai-Ai for the first time. But they’re not the same age, and I don't think they can be brothers…. Ai-Ai refrained from media exposure until not so long ago as well, so they didn’t know about him either. I guess they’re curious since Ai-Ai and me were announced to be in the same unit at that Christmas Live press conference. They don’t know anything about Ai-Ai, so I think they came back because they think that there’s a connection.

Haruka Nanami: And they made it so that you would sing with him?

Reiji Kotobuki: Probably, and they’ll get a better chance of getting in contact with Ai-Ai as well.

So Otonami-san and Katagiri-san made a plan like that.

Reiji Kotobuki: And also, since Ai-Ai looks like Aine, by making me confront him they force me to not forget about the past.

Haruka Nanami: But I don’t think it was all Kotobuki-senpai’s fault.

You can't erase the past, but I think it’s sad to look for people to blame, or to blame each other for it.

Reiji Kotobuki: Well, that’s the story. I’m sorry for not having told you before. Must have made you feel bad.

Kotobuki-senpai raises his face as he says that.

Reiji Kotobuki: Do you understand? That's why I said it'd be better to not have me as a partner. I’m a bad person.

Haruka Nanami: ….

That’s not true.

I want to tell him, but because I feel like I can’t comfort him, I instinctively shut my mouth.

Because he's hurting and blaming himself that much even now.

Reiji Kotobuki: I don’t want to hurt anyone. I’m scared of getting too involved. I guess it’s easier said than done. My Kouhai-chan’s life is on the line at the moment. That responsibility weighs very heavily on me.

Kotobuki-senpai stares at me.

Reiji Kotobuki: I was happy that you chose me as your partner, but I want you to be happy. It'd be better for you to break your partnership with such a weak and irresponsible man.

If I don’t respond to that somehow, he'll go away.

That thought makes me reply honestly from my heart.

Select the phrase!

I'll accept everything (+15 Love)

Haruka Nanami: I'll accept everything. Of course, there are a lot of things I don’t know yet…. But I want to understand you, little by little. That's why I want to spend more time with you. I want you to sing my songs. My partner is the person right in front of me. It's you, Kotobuki-senpai.

If I can’t know everything about the past, I want to believe in the person in front of me in the present.

Reiji Kotobuki: It seems like you won’t back down no matter what I say. Really, Kouhai-chan is more honest and stubborn that I thought. It’s innocent in a cute way, like a child that doesn’t know anything. But you have to know that it’s dangerous too. What kind of things can you accept? What kind of me? … Let me teach you.

Kotobuki-senpai, who's sitting next to me, holds my shoulders and pushes me down to the sofa.

Haruka Nanami: …!

Even though he only pins my wrists down lightly, I can't move an inch.

Haruka Nanami: Senpai!

Resistance is futile. His face gets closer and closer, to the point that our lips are about to touch.

Haruka Nanami: No!

I close my eyes instinctively.

Reiji Kotobuki: See? I told you not to say those things so easily.

When I open my eyes, I see his usual kind smile.

Reiji Kotobuki: Did I scare you? I’m sorry. But you know, be careful not to step on things that shouldn’t be stepped on. Was that helpful to you in some way?

Kotobuki-senpai gently helps me get up and smooths out the wrinkles in my clothes.

Haruka Nanami: Yes….

I'm surprised the usual atmosphere is back, but now I’m a little relieved.

I wonder if he was actually angry.

But I feel there is a gap between us.

Maybe it’s always been there and I just didn’t notice….

It seemed like he was warning me not to get any closer.

Reiji Kotobuki: But whoa, look at the time! If it gets later and someone sees us it’ll become a scandal! Alright, let’s head home.

Kotobuki-senpai pats my back as he says so.

We leave the building and get into his car.

Senpai drives quietly while I watch the night passing by the window.

Inside this quiet car....

I feel awkward when I remember what happened before.

But I wonder if I’m the only one who's concerned….

While I'm thinking that, I take a glance at Senpai, who is smiling softly.

He looks the same as always.

The car comes to a slow stop as it approaches a traffic light.

As soon as he stops, he notices my gaze and turns towards me.

Reiji Kotobuki: Kouhai-chan, do you have someone who's so special, that you feel you could throw everything away for them?

Kotobuki-senpai asks me all of a sudden.

Haruka Nanami: What?

A special person…?

Haruka Nanami: That….

I'm a little surprised, but slowly open my mouth….

Select the phrase!

I do (+20 Love)

Haruka Nanami: … I do.

I answer and my cheeks start feeling hot.

Reiji Kotobuki: Oh… surprising. They must be very happy. Say… what kind of person are they?

Haruka Nanami: N-not telling!

For some reason Kotobuki-senpai’s name is floating around my head.

Reiji Kotobuki: So desperate. I’m going to be jealous… just kidding.

Haruka Nanami: … Please don’t make fun of me.

Kotobuki-senpai says "sorry" with a wink while shrugging lightly.

The car slowly starts moving again.

Reiji Kotobuki: You know why I asked? Aine was very special to those two. So… they haven't been able to sort out their feelings to this very day, and that turns them against me. When I think of it like that, I feel like I understand them a little. And seeing you doing your best rubs them the wrong way.

He lets out a chuckle.

Reiji Kotobuki: Having a special someone is a very happy feeling, but there’s also a risk of losing them.

Those words seem heavy on Kotobuki-senpai, whose profile looks sad.

Reiji Kotobuki: I've also been worried that even the Kouhai-chan I've been with all this time will turn on me too.

Haruka Nanami: Hm…. Do you….

Reiji Kotobuki: Hm? What’s wrong?

Haruka Nanami: Senpai…. Do you have a special person?

I ask boldly.

After a bit of silence….

Reiji Kotobuki: Haha, let’s see… I do, I think.

Haruka Nanami: That’s….

The moment I look at him, he steps on the brake and the car stops before the front gates of the dorms.

Reiji Kotobuki: Hm, what a shame, time is up! Tune in for more next week~ Joking.

Kotobuki-senpai grins and pokes my forehead with his index finger.

Our long day has come to a close.

Once I'm in my room, I take a shower and lie on my bed, my hair still somewhat damp.

Usually, no matter how late it gets, the days I meet Senpai, I end up working on the song, but today I feel like resting.

So much has happened, maybe I'm a little confused.

Senpai’s past. And also the exciting drive and the dinner.

Every time I think back on it, my heart beats fast and I get nervous.

All I can think about is Kotobuki-senpai….

Haruka Nanami: Who is his important person?

I can’t come up with an answer. I don’t know, no matter how much I think about it.

And without an answer, I fall into a deep sleep at some point.

The next morning, I'm woken up by a call from the president.

Reiji Kotobuki: Ah, Kouhai-chan, good job yesterdaaay~! Did you sleep well?

Haruka Nanami: Oh? You’re here too?

I find Kotobuki-senpai at the office.

Reiji Kotobuki: Yeah, I got a call from Shiny-san out of the blue. I’m still a bit sleepy, to be honest….

Kotobuki-senpai rubs his eyes.

Shining Saotome: MORNING, EVERYBODY! I appreciate you coming early, YO!

The door bangs open and the president appears.

Maybe because it's so early in the morning, but I'm not startled by the sudden appearance.

Shining Saotome: Now, now, let’s get to the point!!

The president picks up the envelope that's on the desk.

Shining Saotome: This arrived at the office late yesterday night!

The president reaches into the envelope and gives us a piece of paper.

Haruka Nanami: What… what is this?!

Shining Saotome: As you can see, a proposal!!

At the top of the paper, the word "proposal" is written in large, gothic font.

Reiji Kotobuki: A proposal? From who—whoa?!

Haruka Nanami: Otonami-san...?

Shining Saotome: ME remembers he was a very excellent composer YO.

The president sighs deeply.

Shining Saotome: If that thing hadn’t happened, he would have found success at our agency….

Seems like the president remembers Aine….

Written on the paper is….

PROPOSAL To the Shining Agency's President and Chief Executive Officer, Shining Saotome. I’m Kei Otonami, in charge of the planning of the singing competition in "Welcome to Idol Las Vegas!" Talents Mr. Reiji Kotobuki and Mr. Ai Mikaze, affiliated with your agency, will participate in this competition, which we plan to tie with the Song Festival. The composer affiliated with your agency, Ms. Haruka Nanami, will compose Mr. Reiji Kotobuki’s song. There is no need for Mr. Ai Mikaze’s song as I will compose it myself. The winner will have the advantage at the Song Festival with the votes from the audience. And the winning composer will be in charge of the unit song at the Christmas Live….

Haruka Nanami: So basically… Kotobuki-senpai and Mikaze-senpai compete in the singing battle and me and Otonami-san write the songs. And if Kotobuki-senpai loses, Otonami-san will make the song for the Christmas Live….

Shining Saotome: Yes! That’s right!! Great comprehension!

The president applauds.

Reiji Kotobuki: This is not the time for compliments at all. It's too late to bring this up, she has been working on the song for a while now.

Shining Saotome: Huhuhu, Mr. Kotobuki! I thought it was an interesting project so I’ve already given it the OK!! Competitions make for better results! It makes you more and more serious! Isn’t that right, Miss Nanami?

Haruka Nanami: Wha—? Um, yes!

I immediately respond when he calls my name, and he points at us with both of his hands and a big smile on his face.

Shining Saotome: YOU two! Fight your best with your song, YO!

As the words leave his mouth, the morning sun rises and reflects off the president’s sunglasses, gleaming.

Reiji Kotobuki: Wha—WHAAAT! WHY THIS!!

Kotobuki-senpai’s screams resound in the president’s office.

(Chapter End)

#all star #reiji kotobuki #all star reiji

17 notes · View notes

butterfrogmantis · 2 years

Text

Look guys it’s the Jockey Smurf everyone's been talking about /lh

Nah but i did quite like the idea of rolling with a Smurf getting mixed up with Jokey, that was my starting point and the other stuff just sort of... followed suit! Like the rest of her character appeared to me in a prophetic vision. Just like Precocious there doesn't feel a need to change the name since it describes themselves as a person, SmurfJockey is quite content with how things are going rn with her dragonflies, she just wishes she'd stop getting deliveries of gunpowder in her mailbox, it's starting to freak out the neighbours.

Meanwhile in the village, Jokey doesn't recall subscribing to Dragonfly Tournaments Monthly but he actually sort of looks forwards to copies now :)

#smurfs #the smurfs #BFM oc: Jockey

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blacksurvivalnostalgichanges · 11 months

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bored. thoughts on literally all the dna stuff

jackie- "i can fix her"

hyunwoo-i kinda get weirded out by the power dynamic in the sheer idea but tbh. it's nice i think. i just want this boy to be a little happier, man

jenny-i am DYINGGG SHE BOUGHT A BAIENGIACA

xiukai:i cant believe that, to sissela, hed be the grandma who makes you feel like you need a second stomach once you visit. funny. he's 34 with the vibe of a 70 year old

aya-what are her thoughts on fentanyl. i wonder. btw it's always funny when someone goes "NO drugs. but alcohol is great". like mate thats just drug lite

alex-now i'm curious what his disease is even supposed to be, i don't recall anything about that. if it's just some sort of chronic fatigue thing then i'd easily say fuck it and headcanon POTS just because but. i'd like to know

leon: "don't bring gifts for me >:( i'm not a kid >:(" the repression is strong on this man

chiara:i think itd be funny to have an alliance where it's zahir, chiara and aya. impossible to understand a damn word. also "i can fix her" part 2

shoichi:you know how it's canon that chidi anagonye is buff because whenever he felt stressed he just did pushups

sissela:she likes strawberry. noted. also ngl i do find the thomas sissela dynamic sick now that i think about it. for a solid second i felt so mentally ill remembering that he brought her to the experiment because he wanted her to get actually cured and not be in pain

rio-i feel VINDICATED. every time. i want to put that "rio to yuki" voiceline on my forehead. they don't get along on such a fundamental level. they have not had a single good interaction. that's why i feel feral when i see anyone ship them, she hates himmmm. also the delivery is bad but in a way that's good because it fits her, she sounds robotic but it feels like it's just how she be OHSFKSDF SHE DOESNT EVEN LIKE DOGS!!! SHE ACTUALLY FUCKING HATES HIM IM LAUGHING

echion-"i see the hesitation in your fists" about hyunwoo is making me mentally ill. also "don't be pretentious" to magnus IS SO FUNNY. he really went "stfu i'm gonna hit you". the things i dislike is also extremely funny. this sign can't stop him because he can't read, guys. though, he sounds like hunter toh to me in a way that makes me like him by association now. past me is crying but current me thinks this mans is funny as hell

tia-im crying. "what's wrong with my hair (┬┬﹏┬┬)". danny boy roasted her so hard. that "can i draw you ◕_◕ " to jenny though. i see you

daniel-even daniel cant believe it when she says she's a doctor. the doubt in this man's voice. also it's so funny how he reads people for their appearance (like "your hair is a mess) and then with yuki he just roasts him for his personality. does he think that bowl cut ass hairstyle is okay enough to focus on something else

eva-"nah i don't feel like getting a haircut quite yet" as he definitely fucking SEETHES

bianca-"oh my god a fellow weirdo!!!". four person alliance between aya chiara zahir and bianca actually. impossible to parse a single word. and it's funny that she goes gentle on sissela (i assume she's too skinny, so) and with echion she plain goes "you have literally no body fat"

johann-YO????? i am mentally ill about that one for sure. johann is so about trying to be the sort of christian who doesn't suck absolute ass and the interaction that has with the extremely complicated relationship isol and rozzi have with church and religion is so interesting to me rn

laura-how did they get away with this "things i dislike" line. also the bizarre thought process i had with aya and laura is so vindicated. police officers are her favorite

aiden-he did not just "we're not so different you and i" her. his luke is funny as hell though. "you get paid to clean? 🤨" do i need to explain society to you???? he sounds legit confused. hKFJNSDKFJ THEY JUST SHOVED ALL THE FUNNY MEME LINES ON HIM HUH. IT'S NOT LIKE I LIKE YOU OR ANYTHING BAKA

elena-she and rosalio allying would be nonstop complaining. they'd either hate each other or be like soulmates. "i hate the heat but i hate the cold" "me too" and then a look of understanding

felix-he did not hit elena with the "you'd be prettier if you smiled". i like him but. girl freeze him. also confirmation that magnus does not use steroids. weird-ass way to ask though. what if he met a trans person mid transition? would he hit them with that exact line as the poor fucker is like "yeah???"

#not a quote #i'd have to record it to save it so. oh well #learned my lesson the hard way on the first close. you HAVE to be thorough #i don't feel like it right now. might start getting it done later

2 notes · View notes

raitrolling · 2 years

Text

Messy In My Misery

[Easy reading version on Toyhou.se]

Velour didn’t sleep at all that day, or the following night either. There was no way he could, not when he had no idea what Veruco was going to do.

She had blocked him on both Twitter and Instagram, which he had expected. That meant he could not look up her account to see if she had posted anything about him, something he ordinarily wouldn’t do. Sure, he had a habit of googling his own name and keyword searching on social media to see what people were saying about him, but he would never go through someone else’s account. It made him feel like a stalker, but just thinking about what she could have been saying about him now made him sick to his stomach.

She was not online in his Discord server, either. Or perhaps, like him, she was only appearing offline. What could she be talking about to people outside of the channels designated for fans? She said that she had no one else but him which made him think those people she talked to on the server were only acquaintances, but what if…

But it was all quiet. Too quiet, as the cliche goes. And that just made Velour even more anxious.

He had gotten changed into an outfit with long sleeves to hide the bruising on his wrist. He didn’t want to think about it, but he couldn’t not think about it. He could be using his time to be more productive right now, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on any of his fashion design projects, and the thought of trying to film a video now was nauseating. The next video he’ll have to make will be an apology video, won’t it? No doubt she’s already constructing a means to perfectly slander him, twisting the context of all his words to make him seem like he was always the bad guy-

Well, he kind of was. Good people don’t end up in situations like this, with their careers in the hands of a single whistleblower.

He should probably start drafting up the script for such a video, given how likely it is that he’ll need to post one as soon as possible. But what should he be trying to predict? Would she say that he was leading her on, and broke her heart when he turned her down? Could she find other upset and heartbroken fans he wasn’t aware of to make her statements more credible, and then he has multiple people he needs to consider in his apology? What if she outright lied?

He sat at his computer desk, an empty Word document opened up in front of him, and his head in his hands. His second monitor was automatically refreshing the ‘New’ tab of his YouTube channel’s Subreddit, and the screen suddenly flashing white whenever the page reloading stung his tired eyes. He should try and get some rest now, but he felt simultaneously exhausted and completely wired.

Bang, bang.

He almost jumped out of his skin when there was a knock on the door, and a loud yelp escaped from his mouth. Thankfully, the voice on the other side was one he was familiar with.

“Jesus, Vel, you alright in there? It’s only me, I’ve got your mail.”

Velour opened the door and was greeted by Aiolos’ amused smile. Though, that smile faded when the other blueblood saw the state of his childhood friend.

“Ok, I thought you were screaming because you were about to get caught filming something embarrassing. You look like total shit dude, what’s got your panties in a twist now?”

“Oh, no, it’s nothing.” Velour waved his hand. Aiolos was not convinced, but didn’t feel any need to press on. “Did you say you have my mail?”

“Nah, the mail delivery guy doesn’t have your mail. Hmm, gee, I wonder why else he’s here,” The other blueblood grinned, and bopped Velour on the head with a stack of letters before handing them over to him. “Of course I’ve got all your weird fanmail. One of these fucking reeks of perfume, and not a good kind.”

Fanmail. What if she had sent something? Do the postal services still check for anthrax?

Velour tried his best to smile, not wanting to make his friend worry.

“Oh! Thanks! I could have gone down there myself to collect it, but, ah… You know. I’ve been very busy, as you can probably tell.” He laughs awkwardly.

“Yeah. I can tell.” Aiolos deadpanned. He didn’t even have a witty remark to make about it, which Velour knew was an awful sign. “I don’t know what shit you’ve been up to and I don’t think I want to know, but get some sleep dude.”

“I will, don’t worry about it,” Velour smiled in a way that he hoped was reassuring, then glanced over at the letter still in Aiolos’ hand. “Oh, did you get one too?”

Aiolos held up the letter and grinned. “What, are you jealous? It’s probably just a prank, let’s be real here. My fans are too busy mailing our channel jars of peanut butter and anything that can be wrapped up to look like a dildo.”

“... I’m sorry?”

“Inside joke, don’t ask.” Aiolos laughed, then turned to head into his own apartment.

Velour decided not to.

He closed the door behind him, locked both the main lock and the deadbolt (which he normally would only lock the latter before he went to bed), double checked to make sure the door was definitely locked, then slid down against the door until he was down on the floor, sighing loudly.

He stared at the letters in his hand. True to Aiolos’ word, one of them did smell like dollar store perfume, which Velour knew would not be from Veruco. She wore a brand that smelled like wildflowers, an overpowering mixture of sweet and herbal tones that resembled if someone poured multiple teas into the same mug. A smell he cannot accurately recall, but would know experiencing the scent once again would make him feel sick. He sniffed each envelope until he found the perfumed culprit (feeling gross from the thought that he’s smelling fanmail in the first place), and then put it aside. That one is safe.

The next four letters all have return addresses on them, and none of them related to Veruco or the Miopah business. Also safe. He considers opening them up now and reading through them to see if perhaps someone has written him a nice pick-me-up. But why would they? No one knows how he feels, he hasn’t gone public about it yet. And, despite his desperation to get his side of the story out there before the other voice is heard, he doesn’t think he can. For one, it would be unfair to the girl with the broken heart, and two, he doesn’t want pity from his fans. If they worry about him, he might risk closing the gap to them too much again. And if they don’t, they may instead see his ugly and cowardly side and turn their backs.

That left the final letter in his hand. The address to his PO Box written plainly on the front, no return address on the back. The only stamp was a generic Alternia post stamp in the top right-hand corner, and no other distinguishing features that could suggest the letter’s origin.

Was that identical to the one in Aiolos’ hand?

Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. Is he thinking too hard? It’s only been a single night, how quickly could she prepare to write and then send letters? She was furious when he left her, and could have easily written something in a rage when she arrived home, and the postal service does prioritise highblood deliveries…

He stood back up, and grabbed the letter opener from his desk nearby. He slid it underneath the seal flap, and began carefully dislodging the adhesive. It was a technique he used to first check fanmail he had planned to open up on camera to make sure the contents were appropriate, and not to make it as obvious if he needed to do multiple takes for opening and reading the letter.

As the letter opener reached the bottom of the seal flap, it hit something metallic with a soft clink. Confused and more than a little worried, he pulled out the letter opener and slid it under the other side to peel that away first. Then, he pulled from both sides to dislodge the bottom piece of the adhesive without getting his fingers anywhere near the metallic object.

Underneath the flap was a blade that would have certainly sliced his fingers had he opened the envelope normally. Extra blades had also been stuck to the inside of the envelope, and Velour did not dare reach in to grab the letter inside.

“Oh- Oh my god.”

The envelope fell out of his shaking hands and hit the floor. He staggered backwards, hand over his mouth, until his back hit the side of the couch behind him.

Her lusus was a stonefish, he recalled her saying once. Could she have also tipped the blades with its venom? Was this only a threat, or was she genuinely attempting to kill him?

Velour had no idea what to do. The possibility of his life being in danger was becoming more likely, unless this was just to scare him into thinking that. Could this have just been a distraction? Highbloods are known to scheme, and he couldn’t put it past Veruco just because she was quiet.

He flopped over the armrest and landed on the couch cushions, staring up at the ceiling. He had to try and make amends before things grew out of hand. He had to figure out her plans without resorting to something as awful as stalking her. He had to make sure everyone else is left in the dark, so his fans don’t suspect something is wrong and start asking questions. So much to do, so little time left.

Instead, all he could do was lie motionless on the couch for hours, the exhaustion finally taking its toll and overpowering all other emotions. Except the regret he will feel later on.

…

Later that night, while performing yet another search through his social media feeds to check for signs of the news finally reaching the public, Velour happened to catch a new tweet at the top of his recommended feed.

aiolos>>>> (NEW MERCH DROP 20/1) @.BIFFSVOO_GonePostal

great news guys, the mailbox is suspended indefinitely thanks to people being fucking freaks about it. everyone put your hands together for the asshole who sent me an envelope full of razor blades, you ruined it for everyone👏👏👏

20 replies - 135 retweets - 2.1k likes

The discovery that she was also targeting his friends made his heart stop.

#drabble #velour #aiolos hummel #plot: pedestal #its been years since i wrote aio and you can tell LMAO #also forgive me for the cringe of including a tweet as part of the drabble like that one godawful book a certain shit author put out

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thisworldisablackhole · 15 days

Text

thrown EXCESSIVE GUILT

FFO: METALCORE, NU-METAL, BEATDOWN / LISTEN

Thrown’s entire existence feels like it’s been algorithmically generated for two words: gym playlist. Just look at any “metal gym” or “extreme workout” playlist on spotify for proof. Millions of angry guys across the globe smashed a new bench PR when Thrown released their first single back in 2021, and the pure cosmic energy caused by so many gargantuan lifts turned Thrown into one of the fastest rising bands in the heavy music scene, garnering even more monthly listeners than some bands with six LP’s under their belt. And hell, what can I say? It is pretty angry and energetic music. I’d probably work out to it too, but is that all it’s good for?

Excessive Guilt makes it’s context crystal clear from the jump. This album is all about feeling bad about yourself and then getting angry about it and lashing out, like some kind of baby that just became fully conscious of it’s own feelings. When it’s not about self-loathing and general hatred, it appears to be about being a jacked machismo stud and beefing with people. I could pick almost any lyrics from the album to prove my point, but I’ll leave you with a line from the second track “backfire” - “What made you so obsessed with me? Bitch. I am living inside your head”. Alright then.

I know I’m being negative (perhaps the album’s attitude is rubbing off on me), but I do actually like some of what is going on here. Their blend of beatdown metalcore and spooky southern rap beats is a pretty fun take on the nu-metal formula if you don’t think too hard about it, and the production does a great job at making every riff feel like a dumbbell just got dropped on your chest. It’s certainly effective at getting oneself “amped up”, or “hyped” or whatever, but I find the delivery and content of the lyrics constantly gets in the way of enjoying the barrage. Marcus Lundqvist has some pipes, and his vocals fit the aggressive nu-metal vibe perfectly, but it often feels like cramming words into bars took priority over like… thinking of something thoughtful to say. I typically wouldn’t be so bothered by this, but it’s just so in-your-face that it’s hard to ignore. Fourth track “bitter friend” proceeds to spout more high school tuff guy lyrics over a bed of hi hats, 808 bass and spooky synths (“I don’t owе any apologies. Nah, I’m just being real, I don’t carе how you feel. Keep saying that you’re sorry, I’m not listening”) before diving back into another monotonous chug fest. The remaining seven tracks don’t get much better, and they seem to be written for the sole purpose of letting everyone around you know how much of a dangerous, misunderstood bad boy you are. Ahh, I’m still being negative. This album’s obsession with anger and self-aggrandizing smack talk must be infectious after all. The problem is, it’s just not that compelling, and it’s hard to take seriously when even Lundqvist says himself; “I ain’t calling for help, just let me fucking complain”.

Excessive Guilt is only 20 minutes long, it’s catchy, it’s fun, it’s pumped full of adrenaline and could possibly be classified as a performance enhancing drug by the FDA. There are many reasons why I could recommend this album to someone, but it’s also consumed by a singularity that makes it hard to resonate with outside of the context it was intended for. Take this baby out for a quick 5k run or down to the muscle farm for chest day, let your opps and inner demons fuel your output, you’ll have a great time. Just don’t look for anything deeper.

#thrown #metalcore #metallic hardcore #nu metal #deathcore #beatdown #music

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luminberry · 2 years

Text

From a Unknown Friend?

tl,dr Jeri gets stuffed with slimes! Got the idea while chatting with stuffums and a few other folks and here we are.

there might be one with zeke later on if i get the time..cause yes.

It had been a rather slow and uneventful day at work for Jeri and Atty, the twins did appreciate the slower days since it let them catch up with the mounting paperwork their jobs tended to rack up.

Jericho sighed and pushed himself away from his desk for a moment to get up and stretch, sitting for so long had begun to make him drowsy..not to mention hungry.

"Should be bout time for lunch ta start if my clocks still on time..Maybe I can pop down before tha lunch rush hits and snag me n poor Atty a bite or two."

Leaving his coat on the hanger it hung from he moved to head out when someone at the door knocked abruptly, startling him just a tad.

"Ey, I thought mail delivery already swung by, who is it?"

"Special delivery for a uhhhh...Geriko??"

Jericho pulled the door open to see a rather scruffy person holding a large package out for him to grab..And it appears it was addressed to him? He was curious since not many packages got sent to his work address, must be important then.

"Yo, Gerkin you gonna accept the package? It's kinda heavy as hell and we're on a time limit."

"Hey now don't get snippy with me, but fine fine. Do I gotta sign anything?"

"H'yup! Just gotta sign this form saying you got the delivery big guy and we good!"

The surprisingly heavy package was shoved into his arms alongside a very beat up clipboard on top. Grunting a bit in surprise he shifted to put the package on his desk and fish out a pen to scribble his signature on before handing it back to the..delivery person. A mess of brown locks fell into a very very cocky looking grin, they didn't look any bit like a postal worker.

"...What mailin service are y'all workin with?"

"Rickies Super Fast Drop Offs. Or RSFDO!"

"...Never heard of em.."

"Brand spankin new actually, I'll take that cause I got other places to be!"

Without another word the lanky man snatched the clipboard out of his hands and took off down the hallway, yelling thanks for his service.

"...Gotta have a word with tha front desk bout doin better screenins on weird folks.

Shaking his head some he moved back into his office to see what got sent to him..He didn't really recall ordering anything specific and there didn't seem to be a general return address that he could see. Grabbing a knife he made short work of opening the box and peering inside.

Inside were four solid looking containers..they looked like tupperware but more resilient and dark, a faint smell of something that made his stomach groan loudly wafted up.

"Huh..maybe someone send me a lil care package? Now ain't that jus a cute idea..Wonder who could be behind it? Well let's take a gander at what they packed me for lunch then."

One by one the containers were pulled free from the box and sat on his desk before the cardboard box was set back down near the door for tossing out later. Moving to take his seat once more, curiosity was growing stronger as the first containers contents he chose gently shifted and swayed inside.

Cracking open the lid, Jericho was met with a overpoweringly savory smell, the source was a dark almost coffee colored substance. The scent was making his mouth water, must be some sort of soup? He leaned in to get a better smell as a clawed finger gently reached out to dip in to see if he could get a taste.

He let out a quiet hum of surprise when the surface jiggled under his touch before yielding and letting him scoop a tiny sample out to pop into his mouth. Strangely it didn't melt like he expected but slid around over his tongue and slamming down a almost decadently rich meaty stew flavor before he gulped it down.

"Huh..well now ain't that somethin...Some sorta jello? Nah..never had jello be savory before. Wonder what tha others are then.."

Jericho shifted to grab and pop the lids off of the remaining three containers to sample their contents. Each held a different flavor that made him hum in delight. The second had a strong taste of pumpkin pie, the third like almost freshly baked bread, and the last was a silky tasting chocolate.

"Whoever sent all this has a strange method of cookin..not that I mind somethin this delicious..Wonder if Atty would want some. mh?"

As he moved to get back up and call his twin brother Atticus over, the first container rattled, making Jericho pause and stare.

"...Did, nah..must be seein things.."

Letting out a sigh he missed the savory contents slowly rising up and launching itself at him, earning a surprised muffled yelp from the man.

"mMphg?? GHk"

Somehow his hands only slid through the attacking substance uselessly as it wriggled and worked itself past his lips and further beyond. Struggling to free himself and failing greatly, the animated foodstuffs took its time filling his mouth before easing itself down his throat and sliding home into his empty stomach. The taste while delicious left him alarmed at what just happened, hands flying up to his now slightly filled midsection as a odd shifting sensation made itself known.

It felt as if he ate something living and it was busying itself with getting comfortable inside him.

"Wh-what in tha fuc-..wait. Oh no."

No sooner had the first container emptied itself into his gut did Jeri notice the other three were starting to shake and wriggle as their contents stretched themselves out towards him almost eagerly.

"Hold on, I don't think I can eat all this, lemme jus-uRK"

The bread flavored one didn't seem to want to wait or listen as much like the first strange food stuffs, it launched itself at his face and his open mouth. Wasting no time at all it filled Jerichos mouth with the overwhelmingly delectable tastes of bakery fresh breads smothered in warm sweet butter before sliding down his throat to join the first in his grumbling stomach.

Jericho was overwhelmingly filled by now with the oddly shifting contents making his stomach feel strangely warm. Surprisingly other than the overpoweringly full feeling he was experiencing there wasn't any pain.

The poor man sagged in his chair, catching his breath for a moment as his poor stomach whined and protested loudly as he heaved to try and relieve any sort of pressure he could. Hands flew up to undo his vest before the buttons could rip themselves free from their strained bindings on his midsection. And after a quick thought he undid the button to his pants as well to let his swollen gut sag and slosh freely at last.

"Hoooughh...Good lord..please I don't think I can get another bite down. If ya slimy lil things can even understand me jus wait a minute..hey-hey! I said-mhnp!!"

The last two had waited paitently for their host to catch its breath before combining and sliding forwards over that heavy gut and towards his mouth much like the others moments ago. Jericho tried to fight al he could but there didn't seem to be much he could do to stop the pair from prying his jaws wide open and filling his mouth with a almost sickeningly sweet but overpoweringly delectable taste of pumpkin and chocolate.

Jericho whined softly as little by little the last two eased themselves down his throat, filling him up at last as the final few morsels vanished into his swollen gut minutes later.

He felt severely full, hands coming up to gently rub and press at his alarmingly big stomach. Feeling gentle shifts from within as the contents situated themselves and left Jericho feeling drowsy and warm.

"..uugh..Surprised I -hic- could even keep that all down..Gonna have ta do somethin bout this..Maybe later.."

Filled to the brim like he was, it was next to impossible to resist the food induced coma overtaking him after that strange experience. He could figure out what just happened later after he slept some of this meal off. Leaning back carefully in his chair he got comfortable as best he could before letting sleep take him.

#fullness combat #stuffing #fat belly #mawdness combat #mawedness combat #the twins jeri n atty #slime inflation

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fluffy-lee · 3 years

Text

Brothers

This is a TICKLE fic

Tom!Peter x Andrew!Peter x Tobey!Peter

Warnings: Some swearing, a lot of tickling

Word Count: 1667

Summary: Peter 2 and Peter 3 portal to visit with Peter 1 to spend time together. In doing so, a playful fight breaks out between them to see who is the strongest, but they ended up discovering they all have the same weakness.

For the sake of fluff, the events and technicalities of No Way Home are ignored.

Peter 1 just got off the phone with the pizza delivery place. He smiled to himself, excited to hangout with his big brothers tonight. It had been a week or two since they portaled over to this universe last. How weird? Two hims from other universes had become his close friends. And why not? Peter Parker was a cool guy!

Peter picked up his apartment, making sure it was clean and set the old round table ready for them to eat together. He was so excited. It had been a long week of patrolling and the media bashing “Spider-Man.”

All of a sudden a portal lit up the room and out stepped the tallest Spider-Man with fluffy brown hair.

“This is still so weird. Hi Peter!” Peter 3 said.

“Hi Peter!” Peter 1 said.

“Where’s Peter 2?”

“I’m here!” Peter 2 said as another portal appeared, giving the room a soft, orange glow.

The three Peter Parker’s had a group hug and then the doorbell rang.

“Pizza time!” Peter 1 said.

Peter 2’s eyes widened a bit.

“You okay?” Peter 3 asked Peter 2, as Peter 1 went to the door.

“Just weird, same person stuff.” Peter 2 said.

“All of us liking pizza isn’t that weird, silly!” Peter 3 chuckled.

“That’s not… You know what? Never mind.” Peter 2 said.

Peter 3 tilted his head.

Peter 1 set the pizza on the table and they all sat down to eat, discussing their week.

“I went to Sonic five times this week.” Peter 3 said.

“What’s your Sonic order?” Peter 2 asked.

“Oreo shake, mozzarella sticks, sometimes I get a burger but they always put way too much mustard.” Peter 3 answered.

“Oh… See I thought we’d have the same order.” Peter 2 said.

“Tony used to take me. I’d get two wacky packs and a grape nerds slush. That’s the shit!” Peter 1 said.

“Nah bro that’s trash.” Peter 3 joked.

“Blue coconut cream slush… Now THAT…that’s the shit.” Peter 2 said.

“Bro I bet you’ve never tried a grape nerds slush!” Peter 1 said to Peter 3.

“Blue coconut cream slush IS good.” Peter 3 agreed with Peter 2. “Yeah.. because it’s for NERDS.”

“You’re a nerd!” Peter 1 argued back.

Peter 3 raised his eyebrows.

“Guys… Guys. It’s safe to say we’re all nerds.” Peter 2 said, trying to keep the peace.

Peter 1 and Peter 3 playfully glared at each other while Peter 2 watched the both of them.

“You know, I think you should be careful, Peter, I am older than you and I’m stronger.” Peter 3 said.

“That’s a big claim to be making, Peter!” Peter 1 spat.

“Should we find out?”

“No. No, we should NOT find out.” Peter 2 pleaded.

“Let’s!”

Peter 1 and Peter 3 rose from their seats and faced each other with nothing between them.

THWIP! They both shot their webs at each other and were dodging and running around the apartment, making a mess. Peter 2 sighed and observed the fight. While the two other Peter’s were distracted Peter 2 shot his webs at their ankles, knocking them off their feet onto the floor.

“STOP USING WEBS!” Peter 2 yelled.

“Ok! Ok! No need to yell!” Peter 1 said, raising his hands in defense.

“Yeah don’t be such a bully!” Peter 3 said.

Peter 2 smiled and shook his head. “It’s pretty obvious. We all have the same weaknesses.”

“Don’t! We don’t have weaknesses!” Peter 3 said cockily.

They all agreed, except Peter 2 did think of something…

“Well, that’s not entirely true.” Peter 2 said, blushing a bit. “My MJ does tickle me quite often. Ever since I was biten, I have noticed I am really ticklish.”

Peter 1 felt his heart drop to his stomach. Shit.

“DUDE! Me too. Oh it’s so bad. Gwen would tickle me too and I thought…hahaha I thought I was gonna die!” Peter 3 shook his head with a laugh, smiling fondly at the memory.

Peter 2 and Peter 3 turned to a very quiet, red-faced Peter 1.

“You too?” Peter 3 asked Peter 1.

Peter 2 immediately knew Peter 1 was flustered and that made him chuckle.

“Me? Me too, what? W-What me too? You too?” Peter 1 said, brutally losing his cool, stumbling on his words.

Peter 3’s eyes widened. “Someone’s nervous!”

“Nervous is an understatement!” Peter 2 giggled.

“Me? I-I-I’m not nervous!”

“Now why would you be nervous?” Peter 3 asked teasingly, knowing good and well Peter 1 must be hiding something.

“I’m not!”

“I don’t know… Something about being ticklish made you tense up. Is that it?” Peter 2 asked.

Peter 1 looked at his lap, absolutely flustered. “Maybe.”

“Well listen, little bro. You know I’m gonna have to test this right? Like this is my job. There’s nothing I can do about it.” Peter 3 said apologetically, though he was not sorry.

“Oh no…” Peter 1 said.

“Oh yes!” Peter 3 boomed, tackling the younger Peter to the ground.

Peter 1 tensed up and squealed in anticipation.

“I already know your spots!” Peter 3 went straight for the tummy, sending Peter 1 into hysterics.

Peter 2 was 100% enjoying the scene in front of him, but he was going to let Peter 3 have his fun only for a little while.

Peter 3 wasn’t surprised to see Peter 1’s reaction, but it sure did make him smile.

“Awww! Look how ticklish this little NERD is!” Peter 3 said, slyly reminding him of the insult from earlier.

Peter 1 just laughed his heart out, but when Peter 3 tickled up to his ribs he was squealing and thrashing like a maniac. This made the older Peter’s laugh.

“Yep. That’s exactly what I would do!” Peter 2 chuckled.

“Okay then! You’re next!” Peter 3 quipped, making Peter 2 a bit nervous.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAAA PLEASEEE NOT THEHEHERE!” Peter 1 screamed as Peter 3’s tortuous fingers scribbled deep into his sides and hips.

“Oh trust me you don’t want me to go somewhere else. You know where I will go.” Peter 3 warned, referring to the most ticklish spot that most definitely makes every Peter Parker melt.

Peter 1 decided to shut up and take it, or he knew he would go to the death spot.

“Peter, come help please.’’ Peter 3 said, casually.

“Alright, fine, but we're going to let him breathe after this.” Peter 2 said, walking behind the thrashing teen’s head.

Peter 3 who was busy tickling his tummy, looked up at Peter 2 with a mischievous grin.

Peter 2 smirked back and began fighting with the youngest Peter’s flailing arms. Peter 3 went to his neck, tickling there, making Peter 1’s arms fly up and Peter 2 caught them pinning them above his head.

Peter 3 teasingly raised his hands above Peter 1. Peter 1 was loving this, but hating this at the same time. He knew what was about to happen and the butterflies in his stomach were going nuts.

“IT’S TIME! FOOOR THE DEATH SPOT!” Peter 3 announced playfully. Then his tickling fingers fell into Peter’s armpits and that’s when Peter belly laughed so hard that tears pooled in his eyes. He tried so hard not to scream and alert the whole apartment complex. So he just laughed and laughed and thrashed until he couldn’t fight it anymore as Peter 3’s tickles made him so weak that all he could do was lay there and take it. The other two found it hilarious.

“OK! Don’t kill him!” Peter 2 laughed letting his arms go.

Peter 3 laughed and let up. Peter 1 turned to his side catching his breath.

“Ok Peter! Your turn!” Peter 3 said, pulling at Peter 2.

“Oh I don't think so!” Peter 2 said, pushing Peter 3 back.

Peter 3 lost his balance and stumbled backwards and already started giggling as Peter 2 started to tickle all over his torso. Peter 3 just accepted it and happily laughed and squirmed around. “Hey! Thahahat tickles!” He laughed.

“Yeah that’s the point!” Peter 2 said.

Peter 1 sat up panting, hair all messy, and revenge quite evident on his face.

“Get to his death spot!” Peter 1 growled.

Peter 3 just shook his head “no” unable to talk through his laughter.

“You do the honors then!” Peter 2 said, shifting and pulling Peter 3’s arms above his head.

“Gladly!” Peter 1 quipped, immediately tickling Peter 3’s underarms.

Peter 3’s reaction wasn’t much different from Peter 1’s the laughing and thrashing was very similar and quite amusing. Peter 3 loved it and it was obvious. He didn’t try to hide it one bit. Peter 2 noticed this. “You haven’t said stop! It’s very obvious you like this!”

Peter 3 just blushed, not able to talk through his deep laughter. Peter 1 laughed at this.

“You didn’t say stop either!” Peter 2 said Peter 1, putting him on the spot.

Peter 1 slowed his tickles to a stop and Peter 3 began recovering with a smile on his face.

“I couldn’t speak!” Peter 1 argued.

“You definitely could.” Peter 2 argued back with a smirk.

“N-no!”

“You can’t lie to me! I’M YOU!”

Peter 3 had his head resting on Peter 2’s leg watching the back and forth exchange.

“I DON’T!”

“Yes you do! You like being tickled!” Peter 2 continued.

“Well if you’re me, that means you like being tickled too!” Peter 1 said.

A big smile spread across Peter 3’s face.

“So, you admit it!” Peter 2 smirked.

Peter 1 froze. “I- No, I-”

The other Peter’s gave him the same teasing look making him blush more.

“Well, I like it! I’m not trying to hide it. The armpit thing I hate though. That’s too much.” Peter 3 said.

“I will neither confirm nor deny.” Peter 2 grinned.

Peter 1 and Peter 3 smirked at each other. Peter 2 knew it was bound to happen.

“So… how about another slice of pizza?” Peter 2 asked nervously.

Peter 1 and Peter 3 pounced on their big brother.

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strawberrymilkgeorge · 4 years

Text

Part Eight. "If you're the imposter, you are canonically Bugsy Siegel."

warnings: swearing word count: 2k (not including pictures)

behind the screen (irl dream xf!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: ahehahehoho ik sapnap didn't fly to dreams house before they moved in together but this is a fanfic and therefore what i say goes and i say he did :) hope you enjoy!!!!!!

**********

"SAPNAP!" Y/n yelled into her phone, smiling against the cool device.

"Bugsy!" he said with a laugh.

"You're with Dream?"

"Yeah, you wanna say hi?"

"No, give the phone to Patches!!"

"She literally hates me. She runs away when I see her."

Y/n laughed and heard a voice of protest in the background.

"Dream claims it's because she's shy but she literally hissed at me in my nightmares so I think we have bad blood."

Y/n giggled and balanced the phone between her shoulder and cheek. "You're still on for Among Us tonight, right?"

"Yeah, why? What's up?"

"I was just checking since you're visiting Dream apparently. I don't want to take away from your bro time or whatever."

"Oh, nah, it's good. I'm only here so we can look at places to live together and stuff. He told you I'm moving in with him soon, right?"

"Yeah! That's awesome!"

"Yeah. But, yeah, I love playing games with you! Besides, he has his stupid George plug-in to finish still so I'll be bored. So yes, of course I'm still playing, Bugsy!!!!"

"I've never made a lobby before so I'm just nervous," she said, the feeling evident in her voice.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure none of them pull that stupid prank we pull with Quackity all the time when we tell him we're leaving and pretend like he's muted. It always drags on for like half an hour."

"Okay, good. I'm literally so scared already I don't need hooligans messing with me."

"Don't worry, I got you, Bugsy."

"Thanks. Hey, can you tell Dream he sucks?"

Sapnap groaned. "I don't wanna be your messenger for your love letters to each other."

"Sapnap!" she exclaimed. "No, just... tell him he sucks."

She listened as Sapnap's voice became muffled and she heard him relay the message. A loud, "BUGSY!!" was heard in Dreams voice and she giggled.

"He's dramatically appalled. He said—you know what, no. You guys can talk to each other on your own phones. I'm not being a delivery boy."

"Boo, no fun. I'll let you go so you can hang out with Dream but I can't wait for the game!"

"Me too! See ya Bugsy, love you."

"Love you, Sap!!"

**********

Y/n drummed her fingers lightly against her desk as she waited for people to join her stream. She was muted, her viewers only left with the sounds of the music she played and the image of her commissioned "starting soon!!" screen. She double-checked the Discord call she was deafened and muted in to make sure her friends were actually there before unmuting her stream and welcoming everyone.

"Chat!!" she announced happily. "Hi! Hello! Welcome one and all to my stream!" She glanced at the chat which was filled with welcomes and announcements of everyone's excitement. She thanked everyone that had donated and gifted subs before checking her surroundings, even though it wouldn't be shown on stream.

She was bundled in a hoodie, her comforter from her bed wrapped around her and trapping her in a cocoon. The lights were off except a candle on her desk and her fairy lights around her room. It was all very serene. She was ready.

A dono came through and she laughed at the question. "Why isn't Dream joining? Um, because he said no. He doesn't have time for me," she joked, recalling them teasing each other about making time for one another. "This just in: Dreamwastaken hates BugsyGames."

Moments later, a $20 dono came through from Dream saying, "not true".

"Dream!" she exclaimed with a laugh. "You can donate and stalk my stream but not play with us? Very rude. Get off my stream and go finish coding, nerd." Despite her words, she couldn't stop smiling.

"Alright, folks! Listen up, today is gonna be so fun. We got Karl, we got Quackity, we got Tubbo, Ranboo, Sapnap, George, Schlatt, Corpse, Sykkuno," she took a dramatic breath and paused, making sure she wasn't forgetting to mention anyone. "Okay? It's gonna be so fun and I'm very excited!" She glanced at chat and smiled at all the positivity.

user4: SYKKUNO AND BUGSY YES

user5: corpse!!!!!! T_T

user2: omg watch out dream, we got another faceless man he might come for ur girl

user7: omg is this the first time bugsy is playing with tubbo and ranboo???

"Yes, I'm very excited to have Corpse and Sykkuno play today! I haven't played anything with them or Schlatt yet but I have played Minecraft with Tubbo and Ranboo not too long ago. So it should be fun!! Okay, let's join the vc!!"

She typed in the text channel that she was joining before unmuting and undeafening herself. Her headphones were immediately filled with voices speaking over each other, one louder than the rest.

"—aren't, but come on, there has to be something! We aren't blind!" It was Quackity. "Well, George is colorblind but—"

"Hey!" George protested of Quackity's fit of laughter.

"I think they'd be cute," Tubbo said.

"Me too!" Sykkuno's sweet voice rang.

"Quackity!" Karl shouted, exasperated. "I promise you they aren't actually dating! Like actually!!! She's my best friend and she would tell me if something was going on!!" His voice was desperate, almost as if he felt like Quackity was doubting his friendship with whoever he was talking about. Wait, Y/n was Karl's best friend. Were they talking about...

"Yeah, that and I'm literally in his house right now," Sapnap said. "That's two people who are close with the sources who haven't heard anything. I've literally asked Dream straight up to his face and he said no. And he's a terrible liar so I would be able to tell if he and Bugsy—"

"Hi everyone!!" Y/n said quickly, snapping out of wanting to listen to the gossip when she remembered she was streaming. She was worried about how detailed everyone would go into their theories and opinions of what sounded like her and Dream dating.

Where did they get that idea? she thought.

She didn't dare look at her chat in case they picked up on what the boys were talking about, which was very likely.

Quackity and Corpse started laughing loudly at Y/n's entrance while Tubbo stammered out an awkward, "Hel-hello Bugsy!" as if he had been caught doing something wrong. Oh, Tubbo, my sweet son, you could never do anything wrong.

"What are... you guys, haha, uh... talking about?" she asked slowly, hoping they would lie if they were talking about what she thought they were.

"The weather," Sapnap lied.

"Uh, uh, uh," Corpse stammered with a small laugh at the end.

"Tax evasion!" Ranboo shouted.

"Don't let these pricks lie to you, Bugsy," Schlatt said casually, his mouth clearly full of food. Probably a corndog or quesadilla or something. She tensed at his honestly, praying he wasn't going to blurt what they actually— "They're talking about you and Dream."

"M-me and Dream?"

"Are you dating? Yes or no?" he asked bluntly.

"Wha—n-no! No, we aren't."

"TOLD YOU!" Karl and Sapnap both yelled.

"Can we just.. play?" she asked with a laugh. She usually liked chatting with everyone before they played things on other people's streams but she was certain the topic was going to stay on her and Dream and she didn't want that. Bugsy and Dream... that has a nice ring to it, she thought before shaking her head to rid it from her mind. Weird.

"I do have one question, Bugsy," Schlatt said. "Bugsy... what is that? All I can think of is Bugsy Siegel."

"Because you're the most New York New Yorker on the planet," she groaned with a small laugh. "Bugsy just sounded cute, don't compare me to a mobster."

"Then don't name yourself after one."

"Please can we play?" Y/n groaned. "I just wanna play."

"Me too!" Tubbo agreed.

"This is why you're my favorite, Tubbo."

"Yeah, let's get this shit over with," Schlatt sighed among all the agreeing to start. "If you're the imposter, you are canonically Bugsy Siegel."

**********

"TUBBO!" Y/n yelled as the defeat screen appeared. The boy laughed as he sputtered out a defense. "You and Ranboo?? My own sons?! How did you guys get away with that? I literally said from the beginning that it was Ranboo and NO ONE listened to me!!"

"Sorry, mother," Ranboo apologized before laughing.

"I don't trust women," Schaltt said.

"Schlatt, why would I target Ranboo or Tubbo if I didn't have solid evidence it was them? I'd blame someone like Sapnap if I was imposter, not my own sons."

Tubbo laughed loudly and George giggled.

"You can't be trusted, Bugsy!" Quackity yelled. "You lie every other goddamn round!"

"BECAUSE I KEEP GETTING IMPOSTER!" she defended as she raised out of her chair slightly. She had never been so angry than when playing Among Us. It was a dangerous game for her. Her covers were thrown off of her body, abandoned at her feet, and her hoodie sleeves were pushed up. Good thing she didn't use a facecam because she looked like she could murder someone right then. "I have no choice but to lie!!!"

A new game started and she relaxed at the sight of her being crewmate again. She had already been imposter three or four times and they had only played six rounds.

She headed straight for the reactor to do her first task, closing out to see Sapnap silently standing behind her.

"Ah!" she yelled, jumping slightly. "You scared me, dude. Why... why are you being so cryptic?" No answer. "Ssssssssap.....nap?" she asked softly, confused by his uncharacteristic silence.

George walked in and stopped. "Why are you guys just staring at each other?"

"I was doing my task and turned around and Sapnap was here and he hasn't said anything. Sap?"

Shuffling was heard from his mic before he started moving again. "Hey guys!" he chirped as if he hadn't been super creepy moments before. "I was AFK, Dream brought me Chick-fil-a."

"Oh," Y/n breathed. "You looked super sus for a minute there, bud."

"Nah, I just got food," he said, voice muffled by said food to confirm. "Dream! Come say hi to your girlfriend!"

Wasn't Sapnap one of the ones that literally just argued with the group that Bugsy and Dream weren't dating?

Without further explanation, Y/n could hear footsteps coming from Sapnap's mic before Dream's voice came through. "Hi, Bug. Hi, George."

Y/n laughed, glad he greeted George too. Maybe that's who Sapnap meant in the first place? Why did she assume they were talking about her? Ugh, everything was confusing when she had butterflies in her tummy at the mention of Dream's name.

"I'm his favorite girlfriend," George teased, circling around Y/n's character.

"Also his only girlfriend," she said.

"Oh also," Dream's voice appeared again. "Sapnap's imposter."

Y/n and George ran away screaming, heading straight for the emergency button.

**********

Later that night, stream over and Y/n tucked into bed, she scrolled through Twitter and laughed at a Tweet Dream had posted. It was like it was made for her. She ran through her camera roll and found her favorite memes that applied to the request.

She smiled widely and giggled at the butterflies in her stomach when moments later, she received a text from the boy himself. Looks like he wanted her number for more than just to make a cabin vacation group chat (which had yet to be made, she noted).

**********

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**********

tags: OPEN (at the time) (if your name is in BOLD i couldnt tag you sorry!)

@hydrate-tion @loraleiix @tinaswagbd @charsdummb @smileyyuta @1ghoste1 @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge @queestionmark @carnations-red @letsloveimagines @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @boiled-onionrings @a-cryptic @fee-btheweeb @erwinss @just-a-stan @axths @kayleigh2703 @furiouspockettoad @sometimeseverythingsucks @powerpuffyn @itshaileyn @millavalntyne @automaticcomputerpaper @nikkineeky @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @sprucekot @jabby16 @mae-musicbitch @hungoverhellhound @dreamyteam @kuroo-icedtea @stuffforreferences @menacingaesthetic @sapphic-soot @fangeekkk @haseulreturns @queenwastaken @peteysgf @losingvienna @bi-narystars @zero-nightshade @erinitoburrito @sparklykeylime @youhyakuya @danny-devitowo @clubfairy @loser-keiji @oi-itsemily @alm334 @the-katastrophe @wreny24 @applecakeradio @unicornblood4ever @brendalopez99 @spacecluster @justonemoreepisode @strawbrinkofdeath @aikochan4859 @chaotic-tieflings @dreamsofficialwife @where-thesundoesntshine

#dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken x you #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x y/n #mcty x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt fanfiction #smau #dream smau #dreamwastaken smau #social media fic #rpf #real person fic

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navalcriminalimagines · 3 years

Text

Better than me

This is my very first Joel Miller x Reader work. And I completely got carried away. I may do a series, if you guys like it? Joel deserves all the love in the world 🥺Please, let me know what you think!

Summary: You live across the street from Joel. Every night, you watch him play the guitar on his porch and one night, you find the courage to go out and talk to him.

Songs: Future days ; Better than me

Warnings: Smut, oral, p in v, creampie, unprotected sex, a bit of roughness

Words count: 5k

Jackson, Wyoming

Just like every night, your neighbor Joel Miller was sitting on his porch, playing his guitar. Just like every night, you stood by your window, listening to whatever he’s playing, tonight he settled on ‘Future days’. You remembered this song from a long time ago. And just like every night, you hoped you’d find the courage to go out and talk to him.

But you never really talked to him. You crossed paths every now and then, barely exchanging two sentences. It’s way much easier to talk with Ellie, the teenager living with him. One day, you were actually talking with Ellie inside the house and when he got home, you found a stupid excuse and disappeared pretty quickly.

You haven’t been able to find the courage to talk to him. Until that night. It was 2am, and you could still hear him play. He was trying to be silent, even though that’s not really possible. You quickly checked yourself in the shitty small mirror of your bathroom and got out of your house. Joel noticed you only when you were standing right in front of him.

“Hey, Y/N. I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” he gently asked.

“Nah, don’t worry. Couldn’t sleep,” you waved off. “Thought I’d enjoy the music from closer,” you were thankfully it was dark outside, so he couldn’t see you profusely blushing.

“Take a seat,” he offered, showing off the chair next to him. “I’m not sure we’ve ever been properly introduced?” he said, after you settled next to him.

“Yeah, me neither,” you smiled. “Y/N Y/L/N, I’m from Nevada, I’ve been in Jackson for a few months and well-- what else can we say?”

He chuckled. “Fair. Joel Miller,” he said, extending his hand to you over his guitar and you shook it. “I’m from Texas. And I play the guitar,”

“Noticed. You actually have been my personal radio for the past months,”

“As long as you enjoy it. Do you play?”

“Unfortunately not. I used to play violin though,” you confessed. “Long time ago,”

“I wish I could find one, just to hear you play,”

That night, most of the conversation turned around music and instruments. You were a teenager when the virus appeared, and you were a music junkie. You didn’t know why but you confessed to Joel that your dream was to be a rockstar and tour all around the world with a band. He told you about his favorite artists back then, and how he started to play the guitar. He confessed about writing songs when the inspiration hits. Which hasn’t for a while.

The next day, you happily joined him again. This time, you talked less about music and more about yourselves. Joel told you about Ellie, how he met her and how that teenager made her way to his heart. For a moment, he considered telling you about Sarah, but what would be the point? You don’t know each other enough, and he didn’t want to look like the man stuck twenty years prior. Even if you all are, somehow. You told him about your family, that you lost a while ago and how you ended up here in Jackson.

For weeks, meeting Joel on his porch became a thing. You were there almost every night, even when there were some sorts of events in town. You enjoyed his company way more than you should and so did he. But neither of you would say so. Some nights, he didn’t even pick up his guitar, it was just you and him, right there, talking. Falling.

One night, Joel’s heart rushed into his chest as he saw you walking with a limp, up to your house. He put his guitar down and jogged to you, right before you slammed your front door. “Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, clearly worried.

“Huh, yeah, yeah. My knee didn’t appreciate today’s patrol,” you told him, motioning him to join inside your house.

“Were you attacked or something?” he asked, watching you collapsing on your couch.

“No, no, nothing like that. I’m just a klutz,” you tiredly giggled. Joel wanted to laugh too but he was still very worried. He grabbed a pillow and gently lifted your leg to put it under.

“I’ll be right back in ten minutes, okay?”

You didn’t have time to overthink. Joel left your house in a rush and true to his words, he came back ten minutes later with something in his hand. You hadn’t moved a bit, and you watched him approaching. What he had in his hands was ice. “Do you mind if I bounce back your pants?” he asked and you nodded.

Ever so gently, Joel freed your injured knee and put the ice on it. You hissed at the cold and thanked him anyway. “I’m gonna let you rest,”

You didn’t want him to leave. Not just yet. “You know, the pain will probably keep me awake for a while. I wouldn’t mind a private concert by my favorite guitarist,”

Joel chuckled at that, trying to avoid how it made his heart melt. “Fine. I’ll be right back,”

That night, Joel played ‘Future days’ over and over after you asked him to. He kept playing and singing until you fell asleep next to him.

It took a few weeks for your knee to heal, during which Joel had been nothing but an angel. He was over your house every day, checking on your knee to make sure it was properly healing. He made sure you have enough ice and he brought your meals to prevent you from going to the self. Even while being on a patrol, he found a way to have your meals being brought to you.

“Must be nice to be Joel Miller’s favorite,” Jesse joked as you opened the door. He was holding your dinner in one hand and some ice in the other. “God I wish someone would home delivered for me,”

You let your friend in, and settled back on your couch with your leg up. “I can injure your knee for you,” you offered with a grin.

“Wouldn’t work. I’m not cute enough to get Joel’s attention,”

“Shut up!”

Jesse sat next to you. “His guitar’s here. Is he living here? Oh my god, are you guys dating?”

“No! We’re just friends,” you explained. “We just share the same love of music. So, yes, he does come here and plays,”

“Wow, you really think I’m gonna buy this?” Jesse raised an eyebrow at you.

“Jesse, I swear. Nothing is happening between me and Joel,”

“But you wished,”

“Just leave already.” you retorted.

“Y/N, be careful, okay? The man is broken,”

“Yeah, so?”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,”

“Right. Cause you surely stopped loving Dina when you found that she was a lesbian!”

“I’m just saying, Y/N.”

“Thanks for the home delivery,” you don’t want a cold to stand between you and Jesse, “If I had money, I’d tip you,” you smiled at him.

“You know, you could pay me in nature,”

While that sentence made you laugh, Joel didn’t have the same reaction. He was standing right behind Jesse, his arms crossed over his chest. Your friend didn’t see him at first, still waiting for you to say something, “Hi, Joel,” you said, embarrassed.

Jesse didn’t turn around immediately. He knew Joel would kill him if he could. “I’m just gonna go and avoid your eyes, Joel,” he said, leaving the house in a rush, his face buried deep in his shoulders.

“Good call,” Joel muttered.

“It was just a joke,” you said as soon as you heard the door closing.

“I wouldn’t be sure about that, Y/N. He was just waiting for you to say yes,” Joel was still standing with his arms crossed.

“So, what if I agreed?” you teased him, hoping it would make things move forward a little. But it didn’t.

“Do you want me to call him back? He isn’t far, yet,”

“Just come here and give me my hug, would you?”

Joel’s anger - and obvious jealousy - evaporated as soon as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He isn’t much of a hugger, but you are and you managed to make him addicted to your hugs. He loves being intoxicated by your scent, he loves how you hold him tight, he loves how your fingers always find their way to the small hair in the back of his head. And you love how he buries his head in your back, how his strong arms wrap you so perfectly, how his hands sometimes grab your clothes in a fist.

A few weeks later

Your knee was completely healed and you were back on patrols. Things were moving in Jackson and you and Joel spent less late nights together. You were missing him and he was missing you.

One night, a ball was being held. Everyone here needed that every now and then to cheer up and have some good time. Jesse, Dina and Ellie convinced you to come. You did and as predicted, you spent the entire night waiting for Joel to appear, but he never did.

You were walking back to your house around 3 in the morning. As you approached your street, you could hear the music. Instead of going home, you stopped in front of Joel’s porch. “You said you’d come,” you told him.

“I know, I shouldn’t have. Those aren’t my thing,” he apologized. “Are you mad?”

“No,” you said, lying just a little and sitting next to him. “Just disappointed. It was really nice,”

“No doubt. I’m sorry,”

“I’ll accept your apology with you show me how to play,”

Joel chuckled and handed you his guitar. Then, he moved his chair closer to yours. His chest was literally against your back, his face a few inches from yours. You tried to focus on the instrument, but he made it really hard as his hand covered yours in order to show you where to put your fingers. He started with the easiest chord, E.

As you played violin, it wasn’t completely new to you. But you’d have played dumb if needed, as long as he stayed right where he was. When E sounded good, Joel turned his face to the side to look at you. You were already staring. His lips were so close to yours, you could feel his hot breath on your skin. His eyes went from your eyes to your lips, from your lips to your eyes.

It was now or never. You took your shot and crashed your lips on his. Thankfully, he eagerly responded to your kiss. One of his hands moved to your neck, his beard was gently tickling your skin and he parted his lips, letting his tongue out. You happily welcomed his tongue into your mouth and moaned. The kiss was passionate and intense, Joel couldn’t get you close enough to his liking.

But eventually, he broke it off. You whined, and when you opened your eyes again, you couldn’t see it caused him physical pain to break the kiss. “Don’t you want—“ you start to say.

“I do,” he cut you off. “God, how I do,” his nose was brushing against yours, his hand still in your neck.

“Then why aren’t lips on mine anymore?” You gently nipped his bottom lip and that made him chuckle.

“Are you sure, Y/N?” He had to ask.

“Fuck, Joel. I’ve been simping over you for ages,”

“Simping?”

“Right, sorry I forgot how old you are,” you rolled your eyes.

“I’m gonna show you how old I am, babygirl,” he groaned.

In a flash, Joel grabbed his guitar and your wrist. You’re actually not sure which one he was holding the softest. He put the guitar in the living room and took you to his bedroom. As soon as he kicked the door shut, he spinned you around, holding you against the door and his lips crashed on yours, roughly.

He didn’t kiss you long enough, though. He quickly drifted south, and assaulted your neck. You moaned in his hair, and you could feel the obvious bulge in his jeans against your thighs. His hands traveled under your top and you tried to palm his erection, but he immediately stopped you.

Joel grabbed your wrists into his hand and pinned them above your head. He just stared for a moment. Stared at your swollen lips, at the marks he already made in your neck and in your eyes. You were looking at him with both killing desire and love. It confused him for a brief second but he shut his brain and kissed you again.

You were desperate to touch him, undress him, feel him. But he was strongly holding your hands, all you could was grinding your center against his thigh. “So needy,” he whispered in your ear before nipping the lobe. You swallowed thickly and let out a loud moan.

“Yes, I need you Joel. Please,” you begged him. When was the last time someone beg for him?

“It’s been such a long time, I probably won’t last,” he breathed out, shamefully.

“We have a lifetime ahead of us, who cares,”

That sentence didn’t have the impact you were shooting for. In a second, you were completely free from Joel’s grip as he took a big step back. He was panting. “That’s not—“ he whispered, trying to put his thoughts into words.

“Aw baby, did you already come?” you teased him.

“That was a close call, but that’s not my point, Y/N,” you could see he was getting angry. But why? At who?

You took a step forward, your hands tenderly cupping his bearded cheeks. “Then what is your point?” you asked, genuinely concerned.

“This—is a bad idea,” Joel struggled. He leaned into your touch but frowned as he knew he couldn’t enjoy it too much. “You—you should leave,” he wrapped his hands around your wrists, forcing you to let go of his face.

“Not until you give me one good reason, Joel.” Now, you were getting angry. Hurt. Frustrated. All of that.

“You deserve better—“ he whispered. “Better than me,”

“That’s not a good—“

“That’s good enough for me. Please, Y/N.” He begged you, pain clearly written all over his face.

“You’re making a big mistake, you know that?” Joel heard your voice cracking and you had barely finished your sentence, that his thumb was softly brushing your lips.

“That’s my jam,” he sadly tried to joke.

You have no idea what happened in his mind in a brief period of time but for whatever reason, Joel wanted you to leave. He had changed his mind and you’re not the kind of person to force people. If he doesn’t want you like this, if he doesn’t want you around him, you’ll let him be.

You left his house. Leaving you both broken-hearted.

A year later

Avoiding someone in Jackson isn’t an easy task, but somehow, Joel managed to do it pretty well. He always disappeared when you showed up, no matter where it was. He managed to never stare at you from afar when you were definitely staring. The only moment you could’ve walked to him and asked for explanations was at night, as he kept playing the guitar and all of those songs you kept talking about. But he asked you to leave and never apologized. Why would you be the one to make the first move?

As Joel checked his next patrol, he noticed he’s set on a patrol with you the very next day. Completely pissed off, he bursted into Tommy’s office and slammed the door behind. He planted his fists on the desk and stared at his younger brother. “Why the hell am I teaming with Y/N for tomorrow’s patrol?” he barked.

“What’s wrong with her?” Tommy asked, genuinely curious as to why Joel was that mad.

“Nothing,” he said, raising his hands defensively. “I just don’t want to team up with her,”

“I’ll consider making some changes, if you give me a good reason,” Tommy stood up and got closer to Joel.

“I--I almost had sex with her,”

“Almost? Couldn’t get through with it, brother?” Tommy teased him.

Before answering, Joel threw himself on the worn out couch and Tommy sat on the armbar, waiting for explanations. “We were--at it. But I had to stop,” Joel admitted, growling at himself.

“Couldn’t get it up?”

“Tommy, fuck off,”

“I honestly don’t understand how in the world you couldn’t have sex with one of the most beautiful women in Jackson,”

“Cause-- she deserves better than this. Better than me,”

“Bullshit!” Tommy shouted.

“Listen, I’m an old grumpy and lonely guy--” Joel trailed off.

“Cut the crap, bro. I’ve always wondered what her deal was, since she’s turning down all the guys around, but now it makes sense. She clearly wants you,”

“She shouldn’t,”

“Don’t you think that’s on her to decide? So, please, get the hell out of my office, go on that patrol with her tomorrow and take things back where you left them,”

“You’re the worst brother ever,” Joel rolled his eyes.

“I know. I want my brother to get laid, how horrible of me,” Tommy sarcastically answered, before giving his brother a tap in his back.

The next day came way too fast for Joel.

He was late and people were pressing you to do the patrol. You took the two horses with you and walked up to his house. You knocked and let yourself in immediately, “Joel, you’re late,” you called out for him, “I know you don’t want to spend the day with me but we don’t have a choice,” you spoke loudly, not knowing where he was. As you walked to the kitchen, you saw Ellie packing her bag. “Oh, hey El!” you greeted her, hoping you weren’t blushing.

She smiled at you. “Joel’s in the bathroom. He should be down in a minute,” she told you before walking out. “He brought some coffee. Help yourself,”

“Oh, nice!”

Upstairs, Joel couldn’t decide what to wear. Why did it matter anyway? Why did he want to look...good for you? He didn’t have much clothes and all of them were used and dirty. But he settled for his green shirt, as he remembered you telling him it looked good on him. He checked his hair and beard one more time, he even checked his breath before cursing to himself. And he joined you downstairs.

You poured yourself a cup of coffee in Joel’s used mug and started to look around, waiting for him. You hadn’t been there in a year, you hadn’t even approached the porch. You missed this, you missed Joel.

A paper on the coffee table grabbed your attention. You took it in your hand and started to read what was on it, but you heard Joel’s footsteps coming down. You only had a glimpse of it

“The bed I'm lying in is getting colder

Wish I never would've said it's over

And I can't pretend

I won't think about you when I'm older

'Cause we never really had our closure

This can't be the end

I really miss your hair in my face

And the way your innocence tastes

And I think you should know this

You deserve much better than me”

You recognized Joel’s handwriting. This really sounded like a song, but no time to analyze it, as he took the paper from your hand and folded it in his back pocket. “Is that a song?” You asked.

“Really don’t want to talk about it. Let’s go,”

“Haven’t finished my coff—“ you didn’t have time to finish either your sentence or your coffee. Joel grabbed the mug from your hand and drank the rest of the brown liquor.

“There. Finished.”

“Wow, it’s gonna be a long day,” you mumbled in your teeth as you were walking out.

“What?” Joel asked from behind.

“It’s gonna be a wonderful day!” You sarcastically exclaimed.

It was indeed a long day. You and Joel barely talked, only exchanging about your ride of the day. You tried your best not to look much at him, but it was hard as he was looking this good with his green shirt. The worst was when he rolled up his sleeves, showing off his strong and veiny forearms.

On the other hand, Joel spent the entire day looking at you. Most of the time, you were riding the horse in front of him. He had a perfect view on your ass and he loved how it bounced. You were wearing an old tank top, letting him see your tattoo on your shoulder. He wanted to press his lips against your skin again. He missed you like hell.

“Are you mad at me, Y/N?” he asked, while the two of you had gone down from the horses. You turned around to face him.

“Mad?” you sounded angry but somehow, your body language and the sadness on your face said otherwise. “No, I’m just--lost. I still don’t understand, Joel.” you shrugged. There was something in your expression, on your face, that broke his heart all over again.

“I told you.” he just answered.

“Well okay, let’s say that it doesn’t make sense to me,” you corrected yourself, “We spent so much time together, and every second was amazing. Then we kissed and--you took me inside your house, you pinned me against your door, I thought it was going really well and all of the sudden, you backed off. And--and you spent the past year avoiding me, but somehow, you still play your fucking guitar on your porch, knowing that I can hear you. Hell, you spend a serious amount of time playing ‘Future days’— and what you wrote—”

You hadn’t realized you were rambling until his lips crashed into yours. Rough but tender at the same time, his beard tickled your nose. He was holding your face in his hands, making you as close as possible to him. It stayed a chaste kiss until he pulled back. “And now you’re kissing me again,” you said, a bit shaken in a beautiful way.

“I just wanted you to shut up,” he smirked.

“Please, make some sense, Joel,” you pleaded him. “Because I really don’t understand and it prevents me from moving on,” you paused, “Not that I actually want to move on,”

“You never shut up, do you?”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t stop kissing me,”

Back at your house

This past year was long forgotten when you and Joel reached your house. You locked your door behind and basically ran to your bedroom, taking him with you. You were so fast, Joel almost tripped in the stairs. Once in your bedroom, you threw him on your bed and straddled him. You were not going to let him escape this time.

You crashed your lips on his, and you kissed him feverishly. You never unbuttoned a shirt this fast in your life. Joel’s hands got under your tank top and quickly got rid of it, along with your bra. Joel cupped one of your breasts in his hand and brought his mouth to the other. He played with your nipples for a moment, while you freed him from his jeans and boxers. You stroked him a few times, feeling some precum on your fingers. Joel let out the biggest moan he ever had. It’s been so long. So fucking long, he couldn’t stand the foreplay, “I need to be inside you, sweetheart. Like, right now,” he growled.

You got off his lap just to take your pants and panties off. Joel’s eyes darken at the sight of your naked body. He could’ve come just from the sight.

You pushed his shoulders so he was completely laying on the bed. Joel felt your wetness when you started to grind your center against his hard cock. It was killing him.

“Just for my peace of mind,” he managed to say, “You’re not a virgin, are you?” he asked, his hands resting on your hips.

“Would it change something if I was?” you answered, pressing your body against his.

“Yes. I wouldn’t want to hurt you. I would take my time with you,” he gently said, planting soft kisses around your mouth.

“I’m not a virgin. It’s been a while though, does hymen grow back?”

Joel laughed at that, but his laugh quickly turned into a deep growl as you made him penetrate you. You slided onto him so slowly, it took everything in his power not to shove his length as deep as he could. You felt his fingers digging so hard on your hips, you’ll probably wake up with bruises in the morning. It’s been such a long time, it almost felt like it was indeed your first time.

As he bottomed out, Joel kissed you roughly. He’s not going to last. This is too much. “Fuck, Y/N! You’re so tight,” he groaned in your ear, holding your hair in his fist.

You pulled out slowly and got him to bottom out again. You rode him with this killer pace, until he couldn’t take it anymore. He made you roll over and pinned you down onto the mattress. Again, his fingers dug into your skin, and his lips crashed on yours in a rough and sloppy kiss. Joel quickened the pace, fucking you relentlessly. He could hear you cry his name and it quickly became a blur to him. It was so much for him, he completely forgot about your pleasure and after a few quick and hard thrusts, Joel came deep inside your pussy, crying your name out loud.

This was too quick, you didn’t have time to cum too. But you didn’t mind, you knew he was going to get even. Plus, seeing him falling apart on top of you like that was the most sexy and erotic and amazing thing you ever witnessed. That image only could get you soaking wet. Pretty much like you were at this moment.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” he said, collapsing on you.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, stroking his hair and kissing his temple. He was sweaty as hell, but you loved the taste of him on your lips.

“God,” he panicked, “I came inside you,” he looked at you with wide eyes, realizing the risk it was. He should have never come inside you. This is way too risky. There are no birth controls and no condoms. He can’t do that again. The panic washed him over, but you stayed pretty calmed under him. “Why are you not freaking out? Yelling at me?”

“Is there anything we can do about it?” you asked, steady.

“Well--” he trailed off. Obviously, there’s nothing you can do about it. He came, it’s too late.

“I’ll be careful next time, I promise.” he apologized and kissed you.

Once the panic disappeared, Joel remembered that you didn’t come. He got carried away by his own pleasure, he completely forgot about yours. “Don’t move,” he ordered you and made a trail of wet kisses down to your core. You moaned when his lips reached your clit and he smirked. He licked and sucked on your clit for a moment, one of his arms around your waist to keep you still. When he felt your hand running through his hair, and your nails digging on his scalp, he moaned himself. “Fuck, you’re tasting yourself,” you breathed out.

“I couldn’t care less.” he muttered.

As he kept eating like a starving man, Joel surprised you with a thick finger entering your core. “Jesus, Joel! Yes!” you cried and he didn’t waste time adding another finger. His fingers were curling inside you, hitting exactly where they were supposed and he remained sucking hard on your clit. “Just like that, yes! Fuck!” he felt your body shaking under him and his free hand immediately rushed to your breasts, pinching your nipples between his thumb and index. He didn’t stop, not even slowed down until you came hard on his face, crying his name so loud, all Jackson probably heard you.

As you were catching your breath, Joel got back on top of you and wrapped an arm around your neck. He held you so tight, you almost couldn't breathe but you loved every second of it. You were surprised by his length teasing your oversensitive entrance, “I’ve never recovered this fast in my life.” he growled in your ear. “Can I?” he asked for your consent, gently kissing your temple.

“Yes please! Give it to me, baby. Fuck me!”

That was all he needed. He didn’t need his hand to slide inside of you again. In one thrust, he bottomed out and cursed. “You were made for me,” he said, huskily, before kissing you, all teeth and tongue.

As he thrusted hard and deep inside your pussy, you grabbed his ass and squeezed. He chuckled against your mouth and quickened his pace. He fucked you relentlessly again but this time, he took his time. There was less urge, he was thinking about your pleasure too.

He finally let go of your neck, and got on his knees, lifting your hips a little. Your ass was resting on his thighs as he kept thrusting. That angle drove both of you crazy. While one of his hands was holding your hips hard, he furiously rubbed your clit with the other. He could feel you're losing it. “I’m gonna cum, baby,” you told him. “Fuck, you feel so good!” you cried his name again, coming and creaming on his cock.

“God, I’ll never get used to that sight,” Seeing you losing it under his touch sent him over the edge. He managed to withdraw just in time to come on your stomach, he didn’t even have to give himself a few final strokes.

He collapsed on top of you again, not caring about the sticky mess between your bodies. “You’ll be the death of me, Y/N,” he said and you chuckled.

“I love you, Joel. There’s no better than you,”

#joel miller x y/n #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us part 2

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luvdsc · 4 years

Text

mark lee sucks at technology.

tap the heart if you have a big, fat, embarrassing crush on your best friend!

pairing :: lee mark x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + social influencer au word count :: 5,883 words warnings :: none playlist :: dumb stuff (lany) ⋆ feeling (coin) ⋆ so far so good (gabrielle aplin) ⋆ electric love (børns) ⋆ love by mistake (bad suns) author’s note :: i was debating if i should post it on his bday instead, but i decided to drop it earlier, so uh, happy (approx. one week early) bday to mister absolutely fully capable (except when it comes to tech stuff) !!!! thank you for blessing us with your god tier raps ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

In your required upper division business course aptly titled “Essential Marketing Strategies,” you had learned about a concept called personal brands. A personal brand is explained as the first impression a person wishes to perceive based on their own experiences, qualifications, and achievements. Your professor had told you and your classmates to pick three words to define your own brand. For instance, you chose to label yourself as charismatic, fun, and creative.

Your best friend’s brand would be awkward, endearing, and technologically challenged.

Okay, so that is definitely more than three words, but who’s counting? You might as well tack on “Y/N’s big fat crush” at this rate because everyone and their mother knows that you carry a torch—or more accurately, a blazing wildfire that can easily be spotted from Pluto—for your best friend.

Well, to be more precise, you should probably say everyone, except Mark, knows. And that’s not for lack of trying either. You completely dropped the art of delicate subtlety months ago already. Maybe you should add “hopelessly oblivious” instead.

The rolling end credits to the sixth Harry Potter film are playing on the screen in front of you, signaling the nearing end of your magical movie marathon. You’re seated on the worn down couch in Mark and Donghyuck’s shared apartment, watching the former make his drink with the fancy, gently used Keurig newly settled on the scratched countertop. Johnny dropped it off a few days ago because he had splurged on a better coffee machine (“It even makes Instagram worthy whipped frappuccinos!”) and didn’t want his old, but still perfectly functioning caffeine provider going to waste.

“What’s wrong with this thing?” Mark slaps the side of the machine, and it starts to emit a low whirring noise. “Oh, that’s good, right? That sound is good, you think?”

His question is immediately answered by the sad squirt of hot water speckled with coffee grinds falling into his mug for a few seconds before the machine shuts off.

“What the hell?” he mutters angrily, carding his hand through his hair in frustration, and you finally decide to take pity on your best friend. Getting up from the comfy spot you know you sadly won’t be able to recreate perfectly again later, you stride over to where your best friend stands and flip open the top of the Keurig.

“Hyuck didn’t take out his used coffee pod,” you say, pulling out the incriminating evidence of your best friend’s roommate and disposing it in the trash can next to the refrigerator. “Where’s the espresso one you’re gonna use? Why didn’t you put that in?”

His jaw slackens, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze and mumbling, “I thought I’d just open it later and pour it into my hot water.”

“Mark,” you start, placing your hands on his shoulders firmly and staring into his eyes with a serious look on your face. “Please know that I’m saying this in the most loving way possible, but you are an absolute idiot.”

You release your grip on his shoulders and grab the espresso pod dangling from his fingertips before slotting it into the Keurig. You remove the mug he placed underneath the spout and wash out the accidental coffee water before placing it back in its original position and pressing the start button on the machine. With a sigh, you lean against the side of the counter, glancing at your friend who looks like a child being scolded for stealing from the cookie jar.

“If you pour the pod into your mug, are you just going to chug all the loose coffee grinds, too?”

“... I didn’t think that far ahead.” His lips start to unintentionally form a tiny pout, and your eyes (and your heart, too) soften.

You’re very relieved that Donghyuck is off filming with your friend because he definitely would be making fun of your heart eyes that frequently make an appearance around a certain Mark Lee. Which you always deny. Because you certainly do not have a gigantic crush on your technologically inept best friend.

You glance over at him again and have to physically fight yourself to resist the urge to kiss his cute pout away. Okay, so maybe you harbor a very respectable, medium sized crush. But it's no big deal. It’s completely under control. Unless you’re counting the fact that your best friend is still unaware, and you’re running out of ideas to try and see if he likes you back before you actually shoot your shot. Then it’s very much not under control because you’re losing sleep over it and you don’t know what to do to be any more obvious without stating the, well, obvious.

“Well, now you know. If you forget, you can FaceTime me and I’ll give you instructions on how it works.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly before pausing. “Wait, you do know how to FaceTime, right?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, sulking even more before confessing in a quieter, defeated tone, “Hyuck showed me last month.”

Mark grabs his finished drink and follows behind you, settling back onto the couch next to you. The streaming service already has Deathly Hallows Part 1 in the queue and ready to go, and your best friend is ready to click play until he notices your attention being focused on the smaller screen in your hands. He wonders if you’re about to post another one of your popular cooking videos on that app that shares a name with the most iconic song of the 2000s (hint: the name of the song’s singer is made up of four letters and a dollar sign).

“Are you uploading one of your videos?” he implores before taking a sip of his drink with a satisfied smile. Somehow, it always tastes better when you make it, and he can’t figure out why for the life of him. When he went to Johnny’s place, his older friend uses the exact same pod and water ratio for his espresso, and yet, it’s never as good as yours.

“Nah, I’m ordering my grocery delivery before I forget. Do you want anything?” You select the option to load your usual grocery items into your cart before debating on whether or not you should splurge on buying several packages of those seasonal Pillsbury sugar cookies that only come in stock during certain holidays. It seems like such an insult to the entire premise of your Tiktok account based on baking and cooking, but you’re an absolute sucker for those soft pastries.

“Yeah, can you get me a Shin Ramyun ten pack? Hyuck ate the last one two days ago and didn’t tell me.”

“You sure you don’t want ten boxes again?” You decide to get those Pillsbury sugary delights, happily adding three boxes to your cart. Everybody has a weakness, and yours just so happens to be a premade one way ticket to diabetes. You’re here for a good, delicious time, not a long time.

“No! That was an accident!” He objects, flailing his hands around, before falling back against the couch cushions in defeat. “But Hyuck does all the online grocery shopping now.”

“Thank god. You guys finally have quality toilet paper again.”

The past month of bathroom occurrences was plagued with scratchy tissue that felt more like goddamn sandpaper from the horrible depths of hell. To be honest, you probably would have rather used actual sandpaper, given the choice. You even made sure not to drink too much water any time you came over, but today, you decided to splurge on a venti passion fruit iced tea with sweetener from that very popular franchise sporting a mermaid logo and fiscally cosmic name. To your pleasant surprise, your trip to the toilet this time was wonderfully padded with Charmin Ultra Soft, not that absolutely awful off brand one with the gross texture of a dried pinecone from inferno.

“Hey, that toilet paper was a good steal! It was a three for one deal,” Mark protests, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Wow, I wonder why it was priced so low.” You deadpan, and Mark blanches, recalling all those restroom incidents that were rather rough. Literally.

“Anyway, do you think my viewers wanna see me make chocolate crinkle cookies or mochi doughnuts?” You bring up the two recipes you managed to perfect and add your own spin to on your phone, eyes scanning the ingredient lists.

“Both. And tell me when you’re making them, so I can come over and eat them.” He gives you a wide grin, and you let out a snort at that. His smile only grows as he says happily, “I love your job.”

“You only love it because you can freeload off of me,” you jest, but nevertheless begin to start to add all the ingredients for both recipes to your shopping cart. You always film cooking videos on Tuesdays, edit on Wednesdays, keep Thursdays free for last minute touch ups and emergencies, and post one every week on Fridays with other various random videos uploaded whenever in between. With that in mind, you schedule your upcoming grocery delivery for Monday.

“Hey, you need me. I’m the best taste tester.” He puffs up his chest proudly before hastily tacking on a more genuine reason. “And because I’d starve without you. I can’t live off of instant ramen and frozen chicken nuggets forever. Gordon Ramsay already confirmed my shitty cooking skills. I need you to survive.”

“Oh my god, when I uploaded those pics of your scrambled eggs on Twitter, I lost like a hundred followers in less than a minute.” You confirm the delivery and place your phone on the coffee table, picking up the opened bag of Cheeto puffs before settling back in your seat. “My cooking credibility was completely shot. I had to explain to my fans that I didn’t make those.”

“Yeah, but now everyone calls me Eggy Boi online!” he whines, and you laugh. You have to admit, it’s quite a funny play on the whole “edgy boi” terminology. You wonder if Mark will find it amusing if he discovers his roommate is the culprit behind his new online persona (He probably won’t, and you reckon Donghyuck enjoys living in a safe space where he doesn’t have to sleep with one eye open, so you stay quiet about it. You’ll use it as leverage some other time).

“Okay, Eggy Boi, come by on Tuesday because I’ll be baking in the afternoon,” you say casually, grabbing the remote control from your best friend and pressing play.

You very narrowly avoid a green gummy bear to the face. It lands somewhere behind the couch, lost forever to the dust bunnies and other snacks that missed its target. You know for a fact that it’ll stay there until the boys decide to move to a new apartment. Mark grumbles at the miss, biting off the head of a red cherry flavored gummy bear perhaps a little harder than necessary.

“I hate you. But I’m still coming over next week because I want a doughnut.”

“No cookie?”

“... and a cookie. Maybe two.”

Wednesday comes faster than you expected, and you’re currently holed up in your apartment’s second bedroom—which you had transformed into a snazzy office space—completing the edits to your second video on mochi doughnuts. You already finished polishing the one about the cookies earlier, thank goodness. If you had to stare at your computer screen for another three hours, you would rather eat those pastries Mark tried to make two months ago, but had mistaken salt for sugar. Adding a cup of salt to any baked good is an extremely effective way to make anyone who tasted your best friend’s brownies experience a trip to the beach. Because they essentially just swallowed a mouthful of sand and ocean water. Because it’s salty as heck. Just like Mark was when you told him.

Speaking of your best friend, he’s currently puttering around in your kitchen doing god knows what. He knows better than to try another recipe and possibly blow up your number one moneymaker—your prized oven—in the process. Your heart nearly drops when your ears pick up the faint chopping sounds of a knife against your wooden cutting board. Is he going to try to temper chocolate again? He nearly burned through your entire stock of dark, milk, and white chocolate last time.

After much contemplation and deciding that you deserve a good procrastination break and a fully intact kitchen, you’re about to go out and see what he’s up to when Mark timidly appears in your doorway, clutching onto a white bowl of watermelon cubes with a fork tucked neatly in it. He shuffles in, dropping the snack on your desk before turning to walk out without a word, not wanting to disturb your work mode.

Your heart warms up at the sight, and you speak up, a small smile slipping into your face. “What’s this for?”

“Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” He pauses in the doorway and adds on sheepishly, “And I can't cook anything, so this is what you get.”

Your heart swells tenfold, and your smile widens even more as you spear a piece of fruit with the fork and quickly pop it into your mouth. “Thanks, Marky.”

His cheeks flush with a pretty shade of carmine, and he fails to suppress the little giddy smile that appears on his face at your nickname for him. He walks out of your office, reddened cheeks still rising up higher than ever. “Y-Yeah, of course. No problem.”

By the time you finish adding the final few touches to your edited video, the bowl of watermelon has been picked clean. You save your video and transfer both of your completed projects to your phone, making a mental note to schedule their uploads and add them to your account’s posting queue later. Shoving your phone in the pocket of your sweats after ensuring the successful transfer of your videos, you pick up the empty dish and walk out towards the kitchen, the silver fork clinking against the side of the bowl with every step.

As you wash the dish and utensil, Mark wanders over from his spot on the couch, leaning forward and casually placing his chin on your shoulder. Almost instantaneously, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you briefly fantasize about your best friend wrapping his arms around your waist and how domestic and sweet the two of you would look, like one of those cheesy couples the two of you always made fun of.

“What’s up?” you ask, making a conscious effort to hold your voice steady and not waver over the fact that Mark is basically draped over you. After you place the dish on the drying rack, you turn around to face your best friend, sorely miscalculating the distance as mere inches separate your face from his now.

“I—” Puberty decides to make an ugly appearance in the form of an ill timed voice crack, and he internally curses as he takes a step back, willing the incoming blush to go away. Letting out a small cough, he tries again, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I, um, Jisung sent me some kind of dance video. He said it’s a challenge? I kinda don’t know what to do with it? Like do I make a new dance, record myself, and send it back? Actually, isn't it easier to just do a dance battle face to face?”

“Can I see the video?” You already have a good idea on what the video will be, but you want to confirm it. Mark fumbles with his phone, pulling up the video in his text messages. He angles the phone towards you for you to see, and you grab his hand, bringing the device a little closer to you for a better look and clicking play.

“Oh, it’s a Tiktok challenge! He’s doing the Say So dance!” you exclaim, recognizing the song almost immediately as your eyes follow the fluid dance moves, completely enthralled. “So a challenge isn’t going up against someone, like a battle. It’s just some kind of trend or concept that you try to copy yourself. You’re supposed to learn the same dance and record yourself for this one. I can show you some other challenges and help you practice and record this one tomorrow if you wanna drop by after work!”

“O-Oh, okay, sounds good.” Mark stumbles over his words, attempting to focus on what you’re saying and the dance Jisung is doing, but all he can think about is the way your body is pressed against his side, hand comfortably wrapped around his. He freezes up as the tips of his ears grow redder and redder with every passing second, and his face sports a similar color. He silently prays for the telltale crimson to go away by the time the dance is over.

When the video ends, you once again realize the close proximity between you and your best friend. Your face burns at this revelation, and you awkwardly take a step back. Clearing your throat, you hastily release Mark’s hand (He inaudibly lets out the breath he’s been holding in this entire time, yet he also already misses the way your hand felt grasping his).

“Uh, anyway, I’m gonna make a latte. Do you want a drink, too?” You walk towards the other side of your kitchen with Mark trailing behind you. You take out a floral, peachy colored mug from your cupboards before pausing and looking at your best friend. “Wait, do you remember how to use a Keurig?”

“Yes!” He says, slightly exasperated as he picks out his own cup from your cabinet. He always uses the same one—a cerulean blue mug with squiggles all over it—and all of your friends and guests know not to use it because it’s unofficially officially Mark’s mug (And perhaps, you did indeed buy it from that overpriced kitschy tableware shop down the street two years ago with your best friend in mind).

“Really?” You select the latte option and press start after you had already positioned the mug beneath the spout and inserted a green tea matcha pod. He finally relents, shoulders sagging and a defeated expression on his face.

“... No.”

You chuckle, taking the mug from him and carefully putting it on the counter. You grab the espresso pod you know he likes from the drawer below and place it next to the cup. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you again.”

Mark tries. He really does. He tries very hard to concentrate on memorizing the simple process, but he keeps getting distracted. His eyes are focused on the correct button to push before they start to trail up to your fingertips. And then, they go from your hand to your arm, then up to the elegant curve of your neck, and finally, to the way your lashes frame your pretty eyes and how the tip of your tongue sticks out slightly as you concentrate until all he can focus on is you, you, you.

Suddenly, in what feels like a blink of an eye, you’re done and handing him his finished drink, complete with a perfectly whipped milk foam on top. You ask him if he knows how to make it now, and all he can do is lie and nod with a barely convincing smile.

After all, how can Mark tell his best friend that the reason he never remembers is because you’re the biggest distraction?

Mark should be here in five minutes, according to his most recent text message. And in the text message below that, your friend had sent you a challenge. More specifically, it’s the one she completed with Donghyuck a few weeks ago. When you said you wanted bold suggestions on how to figure out if your best friend feels the same way about you as you do about him, you didn’t want one this bold.

Yet, the video link to your friend’s “today I kissed my best friend” challenge along with a winky face from her is staring mockingly at you. While you aren’t one to back down from a challenge, the mere thought of kissing your best friend causes vast colonies of butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your ears to feel as if they have caught on fire. You’re already tongue tied with your head in the clouds, and he isn’t even here yet. How utterly fantastic.

However, your mother definitely did not raise a quitter, so you spring into action when you hear the faint jingling of a key being inserted into your apartment’s door (You had given Mark a copy of your key almost immediately after you had moved in). You move the pretty indoor fern given to you by Jaemin as a housewarming gift last year closer to the edge of your towering bookcase, leaning your phone against it. You quickly position the device to capture a good view of the couch area in your living room and press the record button, arranging a few of the leaves to hide as much of your phone as you possibly can without obstructing the lens.

You run full speed to your bedroom, letting out a sigh of relief when you’re safely inside and hear Mark finally unlocking the door successfully and shuffling in. When he calls out to you, you try to even out your breathing, walking out of your room with your tripod and laptop in hand.

“Hey,” you greet him in the most casual tone you can muster. You place the tripod down and sit before opening your laptop and setting it on the coffee table. “I thought we could watch a few challenges for fun before trying the Say So one. Have you watched Jisung’s videos before?”

“Um, well, no, not really,” he confesses sheepishly, taking a seat next to you on the couch, leg pressing against yours. He squints at the YouTube video you pulled up earlier before he had arrived, reading the title before clicking the space button to start it. “Savage Tiktok dance compilation part two?”

“Wait, hold up.” You pause the video and then turn to face him with an incredulous expression on your face. “You’ve never watched any of Jisung’s dance Tiktoks?”

“No… I don’t even have an account.” His cheeks are dusted with the lightest shade of pink as he quietly admits, “I watch all of yours though.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, face heating up as you stammer out, “O-Oh, well, I can help you make an account later to upload your video.”

“Sounds good.” There’s a few seconds of silence as you mull over his previous words before he speaks up again awkwardly, “Should I, uh, play the video?”

“Oh! Yes, right! Of course, hit play,” you laugh nervously, twisting and playing with the hair tie around your wrist. He starts the video again, and the two of you watch the compilation, slowly relaxing once more as you tap your fingers to the rhythm of the song and he bobs his head to the beat.

“Do I have to change outfits like that?” he questions a few minutes later, eyes growing round as he sees the girl on the screen switch between four different outfits throughout the dance. His closet basically consists of the same five black shirts that he stole from Jaehyun. Even if he did do an outfit swap, there would literally be no difference at all.

“You don’t have to,” you assure him, clicking the enter key to play the next video that’s recommended: another Tiktok dance challenge compilation. “All you have to do is copy the dance.”

Mark nods, taking a glance at the laptop screen before his hand shoots out and he pauses the video, leaning forward to take a closer look at the little recommended video title banner at the top. “Wait! What’s that one?”

He clicks on it, the new video now loading up. The two of you wait patiently for it to begin, waiting for the spinning disc to stop. But it doesn’t. In fact, the whole chrome page goes blank and then, the little pixelated Google Chrome dinosaur pops up on your monitor, announcing that you have no internet connection. Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to reload the page before trying to re-establish your laptop connection to your wifi. Unfortunately, you cannot find your appropriately named “drop it like it’s hotspot” wifi anywhere to connect to.

And that’s when it hits you. Your landlord had sent out a notice to the entire apartment complex last week about the electricity being powered down today from 4 to 6 p.m. for a maintenance check, and a quick glance at the digital clock on your laptop shows that it’s a little past four.

You groan, closing your laptop and flopping back against the couch cushions dramatically. Mark cocks his head, slightly confused, before he pokes you in the arm. “What’s wrong?”

“I completely forgot about the scheduled electricity shutdown for the entire building. We won’t have any wifi for the next two hours.” You pout, your bottom lip jutting out in the slightest, and Mark doesn’t think it’s fair that you get to be this cute and have this much of an effect on his racing heart rate.

“That’s okay, we can… play some board games?” he suggests offhandedly, pushing away the embarrassing thought and nudging your leg with his, and you smile before a sudden idea occurs to you.

“Or we can still do some Tiktok challenges! What was the challenge you clicked on?” You quickly sit upright, turning to face your best friend, eyes sparkling in excitement. “I memorized a few of the dance ones already! Was it Renegade? I can teach you that one. Jisung showed me how to do it.”

“Um,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His eyes dart everywhere, except you, as he lets out a feigned cough. “It wasn’t a dance one. It was about, uh, going up to your boyfriend… and um, hugging him... when he’s playing video games.”

“Oh.” You answer lamely, not knowing what to say. You unsuccessfully try to push away the image of you attempting that challenge with your best friend. “Those are really cute.”

“Really?” He says doubtfully, wrinkling his eyebrows and fiddling with the frayed sleeve of his sweater. “Wouldn’t the dude get mad?”

You don’t know what suddenly possessed you to do this (you’ll have to ask Renjun and his paranormal loving ass later), but you thank whatever demon did for that split second because you find yourself gently grabbing Mark’s arm and slipping your head underneath it. You swing one leg over his lap and settle down until you’re securely sitting in his lap, bent legs on either side of his hips, hands curled around the soft fabric of his sweater on both sides and resting on top of your thighs. His arms instinctively go around your waist, wrapping around you securely.

You tilt your head to the side slightly, studying the flustered boy in front of you with a teasing, albeit a little anxious, smile on your lips. “Are you feeling mad?”

Splotches of red litter his cheeks and decorate the tips of his ears, but your best friend furiously shakes his head at your question, bashfully ducking his head afterwards and muttering a soft “No.”

You swallow hard, heart pounding erratically in your chest as you timidly ask, “Would you be mad if I do this?”

Mark looks up at that, confusion written all over his face. His arms start to loosen around your figure, hands now resting on your waist. “If you do what?”

You take a deep breath. “This.”

You lean in and gently press your lips against his. Mark freezes in shock, and you quickly retreat soon after, gnawing at the inside of your cheek as you wait anxiously for his reaction. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and be buried six feet under.

A tiny noise of surprise belatedly escapes from him and crimson spreads across his cheeks like wildfire. His doe eyes are wide and sparkling, staring at you in bewilderment. Your best friend lets out a small laugh of disbelief before a full blown smile breaks out across his face. He gazes at you adoringly, breathing out softly, “I’m not mad at that.”

You perk up at that, draping your arms around his neck as you lean forward, beaming. “Really? You’re not?”

“Definitely not.”

This time, Mark meets you halfway, his lips slotting against yours perfectly and making you feel tingles up and down your spine. Your eyes are closed, and you are so hyper aware of the way his hands grip your hips, how he tugs you closer, and how his lips chase after yours. The number of butterflies from earlier multiply in your stomach, and you have ascended past cloud nine by now.

When the two of you break apart, your eyes flutter open, and you nudge your nose against his affectionately. The brightest grin blooms on his face once again, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his little giggles and hiding the awfully vibrant cerise that rapidly blossoms on his face.

“Is this a good time to tell you congrats for completing your first challenge?” you say, resting your cheek against the crown of his head. You pull away when he lifts his head up, surprised.

“I wasn’t playing video games though,” he says slowly, processing your words and thinking back to the challenge that started this all.

“It was a different challenge. It’s the one that Hyuck did a few weeks ago,” you confess, and realization dawns on him, his face lighting up for a split second before a look of horror takes over.

“Oh, no. Is that why you had your phone recording on the bookshelf?” Mark asks, dread beginning to cloud his mind.

“Yes…” you say slowly, a little perplexed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Oh my god, I ruined your video,” he moans, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. “I saw your phone when I walked in and thought you were filming earlier and forgot to turn it off, so I turned it off for you.”

When the words finally register in your mind, you can’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of your throat, and he raises his head up to look at you with wide doe eyes at the pretty sound. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

You can’t stop laughing at the situation, and he looks at you worriedly, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly. You force yourself to calm down, a soft chuckle leaving your lips before you beam at him, leaning in and placing the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. “It’s okay, Mark. I’m not mad. That video wasn’t important anyway.”

“But still,” he whines before letting out a groan and slapping his hand against his forehead when the realization sinks in even further. “I’m such an idiot.”

“But you’re my idiot now, right?” you say teasingly, albeit a little shyly as well, as you reach over to tug his hand away from his face and lace your fingers with his.

“I mean, I kinda thought I was always your idiot,” Mark laughs softly and a little embarrassedly, eyes averted and cheeks turning pinker than ever. The largest grin spreads across your face at that, and you turn away slightly to hide it. You didn’t think your best friend can possibly be any more endearing, but he manages to prove you wrong every time.

“Well, then now you can add ‘Y/N’s boyfriend’ to your resume,” you say, and he fails to suppress the pleased smile appearing on his face at your remark, his rosy cheeks rising even taller than skyscrapers.

“So, uh, what sort of job description does that have?” He gazes at your intertwined hands in wonder, still completely giddy at the reality of you being his best friend and something more.

“Sharing hoodies, giving me attention, kissing, holding my hand, going on dates, you know, the basics,” you answer, squeezing his hand tenderly, and his doe eyes instantly light up. Mark feels a little bolder than before, and it shows when he grins widely and says:

“Can we do number three again?”

“Yes, we can, Eggy Boi.”

He wrinkles his nose at the name, disgruntled and unimpressed, as he crosses his arms over his chest, sulking. You let out a laugh before leaning in and crashing your lips against his. He immediately relents at that, enthusiastically responding and hugging you closer to him, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as you feel his own smile appear as well.

At that moment, you decide that you want to change Mark’s personal brand. Because his should be “absolutely wonderful, positively amazing, a cute kisser, your boyfriend, and your bestest friend.” And yes, that is most definitely more than the allotted three words, but again, who’s really counting?

Certainly not you when you’re too preoccupied with kissing your best friend. Correction: best friend and new boyfriend.

One new notification: donutkillmyvibe uploaded a new video!

moominjun commented:

so you’re saying the reason why we didn’t get the highly anticipated best friend challenge video is because @ marklyrawr turned the camera off?

donutkillmyvibe replied: yes 😔 I’m sorry to disappoint everyone 🤧

nanaislove replied: omg no bby it’s ok 🥺🥺💞💓💓💝💗 you didn’t have to make an apology video for that 🥺💗💓💘💖

goofys.chuckle replied: yeah it’s mark’s fault. he’s the disappointment here 🥴

morklyrawr replied: hahahahaha stfu hyuck

tytrack commented:

mark is going through puberty. I apologize

dobunny replied: @.@

goofys.chuckle commented:

are we getting whip(ped)lash pt 2 by eggy boi?

morklyrawr replied: YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED THAT NAME?????

goofys.chuckle replied: uh gotta blast 🚀

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle does this mean you’re staying over again?

goofys.chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet yes if you want your super cute, mega talented, very handsome boyfriend to still be alive 🥺

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle oh my god I didn’t know I was dating bts jin???

moominjun replied: LMFAOOOOO

goofys.chuckle replied: heart 💔 been broke 📉 so many times ⏰ i don’t know 🤔 what to believe 💯 mama 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 said 🗣 it’s my fault 😢 it’s my fault 🤦🏻‍♂️i wear my heart ❤️ on my sleeve 💪 i think it’s best 👍🏻 I put my heart ❤️ on ice 🧊

jenojam commented:

why am I not surprised……

itsmebetch replied: just mark thingz 🍉

suhprisemf commented:

mark your head looks flat af

jungjaeprince replied: 😂😂😂

10vely replied: @ jungjaeprince be quiet don’t cry

letswonwon commented:

whoop whoop

junguwu commented:

OMG CONGRATS ON YOUR RELATIONSHIP SWEETIE 😍😍

takoyaki_prince commented:

MARK!!!!! you look handsome !! 😘

jisungpwark commented:

rip to @ donutkillmyvibe ’s future videos that mark will ruin. press f in the chat to pay respects 🙏🏻

bigheadking replied: F ✊🏻😔

peachyangel replied: f 🥺🥺

yoitslucas replied: F 🤪🤪🤪 but glad you’re happy, man ❤️

donutkillmyvibe replied: F 💔

morklyrawr replied: @ donutkillmyvibe wtf babe????

officialgordonramsay commented:

didn’t i tell you to get back on tinder ?

apado_god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

3K notes · View notes

heyitsyn · 4 years

Text

MANAGER!SEIJOH AU

a/n: this is kind of an au like what if you were

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

anon:

- 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 i would like to request a seijoh!manager reader who’s a first year and is siblings with ushi and the team’s reaction to finding out that she was supposed to go to shiratorizawa with ushi and their reaction with her getting along with the shiratorizawa volleyball team and maybe the manager is a small cute soft little energetic ball of sunshine 🥺🥺 also hewwo, hope youre doing well! ☺️ -🎷🐛

- Ir seijoh manager series is so gooood. Can we get something where by some weird reason yn-chan is close to ushijima and tendou and the seijoh boys dont know about it and how they'd react to her being so affectionate w them ahahwindkdn

EVERYONE SHUT UP AND LOOK AT HOW FREAKING PRETTY TENDOU IS LIKE AKLFDJLASKFJDLSKFJDSFLKD

okayokayokay

so this is a what if thing

like what if ushijima was your older brother

SLKFDJADFLIJSDKLDF I CAN ALREADY IMAGINE OIKAWA SCREAMING

you didnt exactly have the best relationship with your mom

you remember when you were younger that she used to yell at your brother for using his left hand and you got angry a lot because you were fiercely protective of your brother

this caused her to yell at you too for being nosy and being involved in something you shouldnt be in

duh we know that ushi’s dad takashi actually supported him for this and protected him too and you were also a papa’s girl so you always ran to him

he understood you both better and while your mother worked, he was at home taking care of you two

then when they mentioned wanting to separate, you were very sad but somewhat relieved

mostly because you hated hearing your parents arguing and you felt bad for your brother as he constantly did whatever to get you out of the house

thats what brought on your love for volleyball

you werent exactly the best player but you were interested in it and often watched matches with him

but you also liked volleyball because your brother liked it

you liked whatever your brother liked

he adored you too and he was a boy who didnt talk much due to your mother but he was always a talker with you

especially when you couldnt sleep, he would sneak you out of your room and you both would run to the kitchen and eat ice cream

even with just a 2 year age difference, he looked as if he was older than you due to his massive height

‘just wait nii-chan! i will drink enough milk to reach your height!’

*insert lenny face*

AKLDJFSLDKFJDF I HATE MYSELF

CAN I PLEASE DIE

however

when they divorced, you thought your father would take both you and ushi

like the lady at the court even asked you where you wanted to go and not a breath of hesitation you chose your father

you weren’t very concerned because you knew your brother was going to choose your dad as you both were closer to him

so imagine your surprise when he said he didnt care and naturally, the mother would get the child

lowkey you felt hella betrayed and when your dad whisked you away overseas, there was this grudge you held against toshi

yall youre like 5

i would be hella mad too if my brother chose the person who yells at him all the time

in california, your father made sure you still remembered your brother and you tried to detach from the japanese lifestyle to your new one but you just couldnt

maybe around 6 years you were already fed up with the hot california heat and you wanted to go back to japan to see toshi again

you got over that grudge years ago but your mother refused to have any contact or anything to do with your father and so that included you too

she refused to let you both video chat and any type of connection

your dad obviously noticed your sad expressions and your obvious longing to go back to your brother again and so he arranged something

you shut the door gently before taking off your shoes by the doorway

the large house was often quiet except for the constant typing of a keyboard in your father’s study

‘tadaima’

you meekly mumbled but his sense of hearing never wavered so he heard your voice

‘oh? y/n?’

his voice echoed through the hallways and you heard his chair squeak as it was moved back so he could stand

your sock-cladded feet padded against the hard wood floor and you walked towards his study where indeed he was standing there

your father has definitely aged yet his job as a coach made him as fit as he was decades ago

as much as it disgusted you, you could tell what your friends meant when they said your dad was good-looking

they actually said your dad was hot but you refuse to acknowledge that

you and your friends are like 12 tf

you closed the door and sat down on the loveseat at the corner of the room as it was your designated spot

‘hey, papa’

you greeted with a smile and he gave you the same grin

‘i ordered f/f (favorite food) for dinner tonight so try and listen for the bell to ring, okay?’

you nodded

there was bit of small talk and you asked about his team while he asked about school and you both arranged to hang out over the weekend at some ice cream shop

the conversation dragged on until you heard the doorbell and you ran to the door to answer the delivery man

your dad put out the plates on the table and you excitedly dug in

‘also, you remember your grandmother? and her terrible back?’

oh god of course you did

they lived about 30 minutes away from your house in japan and she constantly worried your father bc the woman was approaching 90 and was still picking peppers!

with old coach ukai

‘what did she do now?’

your father chuckled at the exasperation in your voice

‘she misses you. says something about the family’s princess needing to go back to her country or something’

there was a smile in your face

your grandmother was your favorite and she always said you were the princess

she hated your mother because of how insensitive she was so she only acknowledged you as the only other female in the family

obviously your brother was also liked but there was just a special bond between you and your grandmother

‘so when are we going back?’

you asked and it was clear that you were excited at the thought of going back to japan as you havent been back since you moved due to your father’s busy job and your school

takashi swallowed his food before revealing the news

‘actually, if you want, you could finish your schooling there. but only until college first though because your old man needs you over here too’

nah bro you didnt even care about the last part

literally your fork fell to the table and you shrieked

‘WHAT?! SERIOUSLY?!’

and thus brought you back to japan

you stayed with your grandmother on your dad’s side and you quickly got accustomed back to japan life

your BROTHER!

okay

so waka-chan def heard you coming back

your mother was grumbling about it the other day and he was sure he heard your name in there

‘sdkfjkdslfjdkslfj y/n dkfjlsdkfjldkf’

LMAO THATS ME TRYING TO SAY THAT WAKA COULDNT UNDERSTAND WHAT SHE SAID SINCE SHE WAS MUMBLING SHE WASNT KEYBOARD SMASHING LMAO

there was a mutual giddiness in there too and he was excited to see you again after many years without contact

however

there was a bit of fear in there that thought back to when you were younger and his choice of not really having a specific parent despite your pleads to stay together with him

but he was going to make sure your bond was still intact!

he would do anything in his power to do so!

when you arrived

your dad accompanied you back to japan and you both were walking out to the exit of the airport when you saw your grandmother excitedly waving a sign around

in bold sparkly letters, it said ‘USHIJIMA’

okay wait i love grandma usui

you quickly ran over to her and she grasped you into her arms

‘nana’

you sobbed and she hugged you tightly

‘im so happy youre back home’

your father shook hands with the friend she brought to help drive you guys back home

old man ukai was basically the chauffeur but hes really good friends with your nana so it was okay

the entire ride you guys basically caught up with each other and you couldnt help but laugh whenever your dad would go on a rant about your grandma being too reckless and your nana defending herself

‘oh stop it, takashi. i was only given one life and if it’s over, it’s over. for now, ill live it how i see fit!’

your old family home was exactly as you remember it but you didnt expect the 6′2 boy in the living room

‘nii-chan’

you meekly whispered and he let out a soft smile before opening his big arms

you ran into them and he held you tightly

‘i missed you. so much’

he whispered and you nodded

it was def such a nice thing to have your brother again

oooo your dad been knew that you would be sticking to waka like you did when you were itty bitty young

so when you practically begged waka to stay at your nana’s house the entire summer, he couldnt refuse you

duh your mom went to see you but you just quietly sat there and smiled at her

polite but distant

due to being around waka so much, you naturally went to his volleyball practices and their training camp

there

you met his friends and you guys quickly got acquainted especially with tendo bc he was just so fun

and he was your brother’s boyfriend best friend

the others were still kinda distant with you ahem ahem im looking at you shirabu

but they were mostly amazed at how powerful the genetics played in your appearances because wowza you were beautiful

lmao dont let waka hear them say that bc they would be benched all season in a single snap

during training camp, you usually sat at the sides or you would be their stand-in manager

goshiki absolutely LOVES you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GOSHIKI MY SON MY BABY

him and you were the same age so there was an easier way of being friends and your energies just matched so well

he would run up to you whenever he got a play right and you would ruffle his hair affectionately

LADKSJFLDSKFS FLASHBACK TO TENDO!SISTER X GOSHIKI

‘y/n-chan!’

hell even ushi was getting annoyed at goshiki’s constant need for you

tendo would steal you away and he would be giggling to you about how adorable you were and you just giggled along bc wow this beautiful man is really talking to me right now

ALKSDJFLKSF CAN YOU TELL IM ALSO A TENDOODOO SIMP?

‘cmere, y/n-chan. i taught toshi this the other day and he was very impressed and wanted me to do it again. okay so it goes in a rhyme, ya ready?’

you nodded along and he shot you a close-eyed smile before starting to draw on the dirt with a stick

‘there once was a man with-’

lets just say

you were definitely your brother’s sister

sometimes though

you would try and go towards the calmer players to get away from the rowdiness from baby daddy tendo and baby goshiki

you would find them at the gym just doing drills and at the sight of you, they would turn red but continue playing

they didnt really mind seeing you there bc youve always been such a positive energy and cheered them on which gave them strength

‘NICE ONE OHIRA-SAN!’

‘WAHHH SO COOL YAMAYAMA-SAN!’

you were like a cute ball of serotonin >o<

‘wah, of course its expected for you guys to be the top in the prefecture. youre like,,,,, silent but deadly~!’

duh a compliment from a girl?

dead

shirabu’s bangs would get in the way of his vision sometimes yall i will never stop making fun of that ridiculously adorable haircut so you would use a clip and tuck it away for him

this big babie is so awkward that he turns red when you whisper in his ear that you were done

semisemi baby and you got along bc you guys had a similar taste in music and because you lived in california, he was fascinated that you were in the music capital of america

‘did you see celebrities down the street?’

he asked you excitedly one day during lunch

you stopped then smiled softly

‘semisemi-kun, i didnt live at that part of california’

nah to him, america is just filled with celebrities

OH DEAR BABY BOY KAWANISHI

taichi is a generally quiet guy

like you thought he was actually selectively mute when you first met him

but you gradually got him to talk and you would help him whenever he would want to practice

usually it was during the ungodly hours of the morning

you woke up and went to grab a drink from the common room but you noticed his large build exiting the door so you followed him into the gym

‘kawanishi-san?’

you called out and felt guilty when he jumped

‘oh, hey’

he aknowledged

‘wha-’

you stopped to yawn causing your eyes to close making you miss the brief second of softness that flashed in his eyes

‘what are you doing?’

you tiredly asked

taichi dusted off his trackpants after kneeling down to rummage through his bag and you couldnt help but gawk at his height

‘im training early’

he answered

‘why? is it because you want to keep up with the others?’

you mumbled and he was surprised for a second but reverted back to his stoic expression

‘i have to make sure i am able to reach my seniors level for next year’

taichi turned away to grab a stray ball and you moved to go to the storage room for the ball cart

‘oi, what are you doing? go back to bed’

he said from the other side of the gym but you just looked back at him with a tired grin

‘meh, i want to spend time with you, senpai’

you reasoned

he shook his head before walking over to you then ruffled your hair

‘no wonder youre so tiny. you dont sleep enough and let your body grow’

yep that was the closest youve gotten to taichi joking with you

usually, hes training and when hes in the zone, nothing else has his attention but the ball

maybe thats why the others ahem goshiki has said that he was very scary

his game face was practically a mean face

basically you spent the entire training camp with them and then soon, you were going back to school

duh everyone hmm maybe not shirabu bc he most definitely read the school book of rules thought you would be going to shiratorizawa with them

but you broke the news to them one afternoon and imagine the tears from both tendo and goshiki

‘WHHYYYY!!!!’

‘NOOO!!!!!’

‘why can’t you?’

semi asked and you were about to answer when shirabu beat you to it

‘the school doesnt allow late transfers’

oh right

the american school system was set in a different schedule than a japanese school system

it was considered the summer for them yet school already started a few months ago

since shiratorizawa was a very academically and physically prestigious school, they refused anyone who would potentially be late or behind their curriculum

‘so where ya headed to then, chibi?’

tendou pouted and you leaned against his arm

‘hmm some school named aoba johsai? i dont know its near my grannie’s so that’s all that mattered’

oh dear

USHIJIMA NO Y/N WILL NOT ASK TOORU TO GO TO SHIRATORIZAWA

they consider seijoh a rival bc theyve played against them practically in every prefecture tournament and they were worried for that infamous setter

‘ne, y/n-chan, promise us that you won’t be swept away by them! especially a guy named oikawa tooru!’

uhhh

well

tendou’s warning was kinda ignored bc you ended up being seijoh’s manager

hehe

surprise?

but they weren’t really really shocked tho bc they knew you liked volleyball so you would naturally be in the volleyball team

even as a manager

meanwhile in seijohhh

OooOOOoOoOooooo sEiJOOhHHHH~~~~~~

okay so you were actually registered under your father’s last name usui rather than the ushijima last name

therefore you werent exactly immediately known as HEY! USHIJIMA’S SISTER!

you still became the manager the way you did as mentioned in part 1

and you still are their adorable baby manager

you were aware of their oikawa’s hatred for wakawaka so you try not to talk about him even though youre literally the closest person to him

was it traitorous?

maybe

but you actually even help them when they practice

duh the boys are like eyebrow raise emoji

‘wow youre really into volleyball, huh, manager-chan?’

matsukawa commented and you just smiled

‘hmm, my family likes it so ive picked up a thing or two’

LMAO

little do they know your brother is literally the best volleyball player around and is a member of the under 19 team and your father is a volleyball coach in america and would someday be someone iwaizumi hajime (19) would apprentice under

there was a lot of times you thought you would slip up like your home screen was of you and waka but youve been careful to cover it up

BUT

you cant always be sneaky

it was during the first day of the tournament and you were filling up their water bottles I SWEAR WHY IS MANAGER-CHAN ALWAYS FILLING UP WATER BOTTLES when you found a familiar bunch of boys at the end of the hallway just chatting

you havent seen tendou and the boys in so long so you placed the bottles down and rushed over there so quickly

‘TOMUTOMU!’

you shouted and the oddly-haired boy turned and he gasped before grabbing you into a large hug

this grabbed tendou’s attention and he cheered then hugged you too

your giggles and happy cheers were so infectous and they just absolutely missed you so much

these tall boys were at a advantage so someone scooped you up and you were just affectionately being talked to and hugged and LKDSJFSLDFJ SO LUCKY SO LOVED

meanwhile

the plant babies were wondering where the heck you went to

‘y/n-chan?! where is she?!’

oikawa panicked quickly while iwaizumi hit him to shut up

‘be quiet! you won’t find her if you’re too busy freaking out!’

‘ill find her’

matsukawa volunteered and they nodded, feeling at ease of him being capable to find you if you were in trouble

but when he returned empty-handed and with large eyes, they knew something was up

they ran behind mattsun to stop and copy his shocked expression at the sight in front of them

is that

you?

with

shi

oh my god

‘y/n-chan!’

oikawa shouted, being the first to speak

you jumped and your own eyes widened

‘oh. oh no’

you mumbled

the others were so stunned and seijoh itself was so hard to make speechless but they were just shocked

period

‘what is happening’

iwaizumi mumbled

yea the others were just shocked period

‘hey guys’

you waved and you motioned them closer

‘uhh,,, well,,, um they are my friends’

you smiled uneasily and they could see that

‘aaand?’

oikawa signalled you to say everything bc he knew it wasnt the whole story

you sighed

‘ushi,,, jima is my brother’

you mumbled the last part

but they heard you

‘HAH?!’

you cringed and the shira boys were about to move to protect you but they saw you glare at them

‘what? what about it? hes my brother? and?’

you babbled

‘but,, why are you,, in seijoh? dont get me wrong! its just,, youd naturally go to shiratorizawa right?’

mattsun waved his hands around and asked the question thats bugging the team

‘i came to the country late’

‘THE COUNTRY?!’

well,,

turns out you havent exactly told them everything about you yet :/

even when youve cleared the air and introduced waka as your brother, seijoh still didnt say anything

they were stuck in this shocked and surprised moment even at the end of the day and when you went straight to the shiratorizawa team,

they watched with wide eyes as you laughed with goshiki and was jumping around with tendou

‘AH! TOMU! MY HAIR!’

‘TORI-SAN! SATORI-SAN! TAKE THAT!’

wow you were actually really beautiful when youre happy

‘i dont think ive seen her this happy with this much energy’

makki said and they nodded

it was true

you were usually calm and collected and was the perfect balance to this chaotic team

so seeing you so free and loose with them was so refreshing, even if it was with damn ushiwaka

you finally went back to the seijoh boys and they all sent glares to the violet team before sending you a smile

‘you ready to go, manager-chan?’

watari ruffled your hair before handing you your bag to start walking to the bus

‘yea. lets go home’

as you all walked, oikawa was already starting his tantrum

‘y/n-chan~! why aren’t you that happy around us? are we not enough for you?’

oikawa whined and pouted

but you just turned to smiled at him and stopped walking to pat his head

‘im not their manager, therefore im not pressured to act like anyone except as a friend and a spectator. but i try to be as professional as i can with you guys to make sure you dont appear bad to others. and you guys are perfectly chaotic enough, adding me into the mix will just about kill coach’

oikawa didnt seem satisfied though

‘but! thats not fair! they get to see you smile and i dont!’

iwaizumi growled at him to be quiet but you beat him to it

well

you smiled at tooru but your eyes shone maliciously

‘i knew you would act like this, oikawa-san. as punishment, i gave nii-chan your phone number. good luck avoiding him now’

oikawa screamed

a/n: AAWWWWW LETS NOT KILL COACH IRIHATA OKAY? HES LIKE OUR GRANPAPA AND PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LEAVE OIKAWA ALONE WAKAWAKA-KUN!

598 notes · View notes

obsessive-ego · 3 years

Text

Talking in you sleep

Musical beetlejuice x reader

Reader says Beetlejuice's name 3 times in their sleep, but hes already in their home

Sfw

Idk been thinking about this for ages

Just a small fic

It was an accident

It was no secret to anyone that you talk in your sleep, not full sentences, just a word or two, nothing too abnormal, you didn't know about this little quirk of yours until a certain foul mouthed undead demon wormed his way into your life, he was the one who told you.

...

"Ya know you chatter on in your sleep?" He'd chuckle as if he found something truly embarrassing to bug you about.

"How'd you know? Am I that loud you can hear me in the livingroom?"

"Nah, I watch you sleep" he said it so plainly as if it wasnt super creepy.

The ghoul eventually upped his late night habits from watching you sleep, to sleeping in the same bed as you, he did this so often you stopped setting up the couch for him and just accepted your fate to be spooned every night by a creepy old dead guy who you may or may not have a crush on

...

The nights you've babbled in your sleep always brought on annoying mornings of beetlejuice teasing you, probably lying through his teeth over how you moan his name in you sleep to get you worked up for his own amusement, unfortunately you couldnt prove you didnt since your dreams never really stuck with you long after waking.

Hell with your late night chatter you even manged to summon beej once in your sleep, a night he was spending over at the Deetz, you manged to say his name 3 times in a row, spoken, unbroken, in your sleep, and boy was your face red when you woke up and saw the bastard in question sitting inches from your face with the widest shit eating grin you've ever seen on his face, that was an instance you couldnt deny saying his name in your sleep and dreaming about him, you missed him, of course you think about the demon when you two are apart, even the few days he's with the Deetz and the maitlands.

Tonight wasnt one of those nights, beetlejuice has spent the entire day glued to your side, chatting your ear off about all the scares he and lydia pulled in your absence, his stories always made you smile, the way he practically glowed green with excitement as he retold his showmanship to you.

The night went on with bad jokes and fun stories as the demon filled you in on all the fun you missed while you were doing boring adult breather things and how the two of you should mess with some unlucky breathers so he could show you how amazing he truly was, as if you needed proof that the ghoul was a ham who loved to show off.

As the two of you sat on the couch laughing away, forgetting the movie that basically became White noise to your conversation, a yawn escapes your lips

"Getting tired babes? Am I really that boring" the ghoul teased pinching you cheek

You groan and pull away "well, yeah, unlike you mister freeloader, I worked all day" you shrug before letting out another yawn

"Freeloader? Oh sugar, your words hurt" the ghoul fakes hurt, giving you an over exaggerated gasped face, with his hands over where a person's heart would be "I thought we had the mutual understanding that I was your trophy husband"

You give the demon a soft laugh "you wish-"

"Every night baby~" he purrs pink stripes slowly appearing in his hair

You freeze, it wasnt uncommon for beetlejuice to openly flirt with you, but that doesnt mean it didnt make you freeze up everytime, you werent exactly the type people lined up to date, nor were you very popular growing up, so the sudden and intense attention the demon gave you always made your heart pound.

"Uh, um, I think I'm gonna head to bed" you stammer before getting up "night beej" you mumble before disappearing into your bedroom.

The demon stifles a laugh, god slash satan you were a delight to get worked up, not to mention easy. He loved it, his favourite little breather was always so hot when they were an embarrassed mess.

The ghoul decides to finish the movie the two of you had on in the background, before heading to bed with you, he didn't need to sleep, just enjoyed being snuggled up to that soft warm body of yours, and it was more rewarding to sneak in after you were out cold, bed would be already warm, and with the added thrill of not wanting to wake you.

As the credits roll beetlejuice snaps his fingers and tv goes dark, the ghoul raises from the couch and gives a yawn and a long stretch as if he was exhausted. The demon makes his way to your room, standing outside your door he pauses at the sound of your voice

"Beetlejuice"

It was soft, barely audible, but herd it, guess you were still up, beetlejuice phases through your bedroom door, to be greeted by your sleeping form.

He stifled a chuckle, you were dreaming of him, tomorrow was gonna be great, the ghoul was already busy thinking about ways to poke fun at this in the morning, moaning out his name in you sleep? What kind of dream were you having babes? He could see your face now.

"Beetlejuice" you mumble again in a whisper

"Whoa there babes, you know the rule, one more time and I'm out" he whispers making his way to your bed.

"Beetlejuice" you sigh

"Y/N!" was the the only thing he had time to shout before vanishing.

His shout was enough to make wake you, but not enough to clue you in to what you just did, you grumble out a swear before rolling over and going back to sleep.

The next morning you wake up, a tad confused to not have a snoring dead guy weighing you down, normally on nights beetlejuice would stay over he'd slip into bed with you after you've fallen asleep, using your chest as a pillow.

You dont think much of it at first, heading to the kitchen to make some coffee before getting dressed, you did notice there was no beej there either, waiting for you kettle to boil you give your little home a quick sweep for the demon, nothing.

He's vanished to do his own thing before, he was a grown man, sometimes he'd duck out and mess with the neighbors in your apartment complex, but he would at least leave you a note or something.

You started to worry, what if something awful happened to him? Then it clicked, lydia must had summoned him away to hang out, that had to be it, and with that thought all dread left you so you could carry on with your day, since bj wasnt around you took the opportunity to get a few odds and ends done.

The day drags on into the late evening, you were enjoying the peace as you catch up on some reading.

Your phone rings, looking at the screen you see its lydia, that's odd, she normally texts you if anything

"Hello?"

"Y/n I need to ask beetlejuice something"

"Isnt he with you?"

"What? No-"

Dread returns to you chest, you havent seen him since last night, he left no note, he wasnt with lydia, did something awful happen? was he bored with you? You felt like you were going to be sick

"Y/n?"

"I gotta go" was all you could say before hanging up,

"Beetlejuice!"

Nothing

"Beetlejuice!"

Again nothing, he normally came after the second yell, anxiety for your dear friend make you since to your stomach in fear for the worst, you steady yourself and take a deep breath and say it for a third time

"Beetlejuice"

With a puff of green smoke there stood the ghoul, unfortunately sporting a purple hue

"Bee-"

"It took you that long to notice I was gone?"

"No, I-"

"Why did it take so long then? Enjoying your time without me?!" Red streaks began to show up amongst the purple

"I thought lydia summoned you back-"

"And you waited till now to check?!"

"I DIDNT WANT TO BOTHER THE TWO OF YOU" you yelled back, beetlejuice is taken abck by your volume, you take a deep breath "if I knew why you were gone I would have said something sooner, what happened?" You say calmly gently taking the demon's hand, red now fading away, though the purple stayed

"You sent me away, you said my name 3 times in your sleep and sent me back to the netherworld" he refused to look at you as if you did this on purpose to mess with him.

"Bee, I'm sorry, I would have never done that on purpose, i- i love having you around, and I, god, i miss you when you're not here, with me" now it was your turn to refuse eye contact, admitting such a cheesy thing, you wanted to just die, not that it would help.

The purple hue is quick to leave the ghoul's form in replacement with a much softer pink, you missed him, music to his ears.

"Sugar" beetlejuice grabs your chin and forces eye contact

You give him a soft smile seeing that he was no longer purple, but also when he pulls you into a rather over exaggerated dip and sloppy kiss "so how bout we make up for some lost time and you can make this little misunderstanding up to me, what do you say babes?~"

You only stutter and choke on your words as the demon spins you around

"Would you like to scare some delivery guy and watch a bad slasher?" You finally get out

The demon pauses for a moment, as if to think about this offer.

"Normally I'd be delighted honey, but I think you owe me~ how bout you have to sit on my lap the entire film~" he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at you, you swallow the lump in your throat, this was gonna be a long night

Bonus

The two of you were snuggled together on the couch, Beetlejuice's arms were around your waist, his head on your shoulder, your bum on his lap.

"So babes, whatever you dreaming about last night?"

#beetlejuice x reader #muscial beetlejuice x reader

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