#and will also fit in my lunchbox which is very small | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chicksung · 4 years

Text

The Firsts With My Last || Park Jisung

Genre: fluff, lil bit of angst, best friends to lover au

Pairing: childhood best friend!jisung x reader

Word Count: 6.3k

Warning/s: small argument, food

Synopsis: a collection of firsts with Park Jisung

A/N: Aaaaaahhhhh!!! it’s finally here! I cannot express how happy and excited I am for this! I worked so so so hard on this and I hope that you enjoy it! Feedback is welcome! Thank you to the lovely Elle @joh--pping for making the header!

Networks: @nctnetwrite @nct-writers @kpopscape @neoturtles @neoswitchnet

Taglist: @moonbeamsung @lebrookestore @jaeminpeachy @joh--pping @kyuwoyo @nksideblog @ncvltrtchnlgy @vera-liscious @ncteaxhoe @neojaems @ethaeriyeol

First meeting

First grade, a time where your biggest worry was if you would be home in time to watch your favourite cartoon. That was also the age you met Park Jisung. Your teacher had handed out a simple colouring-in to keep the students entertained for the few minutes before the lunch bell rang. You had been peacefully drawing when one of your classmates, Chenle, had tried to grab the blue coloured pencil that was in your grasp. It was part of a pencil set your grandmother had given to you and you held it very dear to your heart, so the fact that one of troublemakers was trying to take it from you, made you severally upset. Despite the discouragements from his friends to leave you alone, you and Chenle continued your intense game of tug-o-war on the pencil until you heard a heart stopping snap. The pencil splintered down the middle, unable to take the pressure anymore. You could only eyeball it in shock, reality finally settling in that Chenle had broken your favourite pencil. The bell rang and you stared at Chenle, scooping up the two halves of the broken pencil into your chubby hands. You were the first one out of the classroom, tears streaming down your face as you grabbed your lunchbox and disappeared into the playground.

You hid behind a tree, attempting to summon your much needed magical abilities to somehow stick the two halves back together. No matter how hard you pressed them into each other, they wouldn’t bond together with an invisible force. At this realisation, you began to sob again, hiding your face into your knees, quiet wails escaping your lips. You continued to cry until you saw a pair of red and blue shoes come into your tear blurred vision from beneath your legs. You looked up and were met with a chubby cheeked child, a child you recognised as one of your classmates and one of Chenle’s friends who had tried to convince him to stop roughhousing with you.

“I’m sorry about your pencil. Chenle can be a bit of a butthead,” The boy gave you an awkward smile before shifting the wood chips and dirt around with the toe of his shoe. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” He asked politely, his eyes big and friendly. As much as you wanted to be alone and definitely did not want to be accompanied by someone who was on friendly terms with the culprit of the state your pencil was in, you couldn't find it in your heart to say no to his friendly gesture. You nodded sadly and he immediately occupied the space next to you. He looked at the broken pieces in your hand and a smile crept to his face.

“There is one good thing about your broken pencil,” He stated, making you snap your head towards him.

“What is there good about this? My favourite pencil is broken because of your dumb friend,” You didn’t mean to snap at him, but you were so overcome with emotions and anger for what had happened, it slipped out. The boy looked at you, a little shocked at the fact you had called his friend dumb, but at the same time, he had called him dumb on multiple occasions.

“Think about it! If you sharpen this side of this one,” He pointed to the more splintered of the two pieces, “you could have two blue pencils,” He said with such innocence and optimism that it was infectious. You looked at the half and smiled. You had never thought about it like that. You were too caught up in the fact that it was broken to focus on anything else.

“You’re right!” You squeaked, a small laugh erupting from you. You turned to the boy once again, an unanswered question lingering in your mind.

“What’s your name?”

The boy smiled again, but this time it wasn’t awkward. “Park Jisung. What’s yours?”

“Y/N.”

First Realisation of Feelings

The 7th grade school dance, where the room is cramped and hot, full of hormonal preteens to early teenagers. Not exactly the place Jisung expected to see you. You had often expressed your dislike for the majority of the grade and you never liked being in overcrowded places, the perfect word to describe the gymnasium that was decorated for the occasion. Yet here you were, standing in the corner, hands behind your back, looking down at your shoes and playing with the hem of your dress. Jisung quickly ditched the conversation he was having with Sungchan and Chenle and made a b-line towards you. You were glad he saw you. You didn’t want to be here, only here by force from both your friends and your parents, your parents saying that you should socialise more outside of school hours and your friends saying it would be fun. However, your friends had made a b-line to the boys they liked from the grade, leaving you to stand there awkwardly until you could no longer stand watching your friend drooling over quite arguably the biggest jerk in the grade. As for your parents’ word, the only thing you could think to tell them is ‘why socialise when I’m most comfortable around the clumsiest boy in the class?’

“Hi,” Jisung said, the same awkward smile on his lips.

“Hi,” You replied. You didn’t need to be a psychic to know that Jisung wasn’t exactly here on his own terms, most likely only here for Chenle (who you had since reconciled with after the incident in first grade)

“You told me you weren’t coming,” He pointed out, trying to get rid of the slight awkwardness in the air. Why was it so awkward? It wasn’t normally like this.

“I wasn’t until I was made to by my friends and my parents,” You explained, shooting a glance to your friends, who were practically at each of their respective male attention giver’s beck and call. Why were they your friends again? “Is it just me or is it getting hot in here?” You brought attention to the sudden rise in the temperature, fanning your neck as you looked around for a possible air source, more so, a possible way out. Jisung nodded. He didn’t feel hot, but the gymnasium was cramped, and there were a lot of warm bodies inside of it, so he didn’t blame you.

“Yeah, let’s go outside. The breeze is really nice out there.”

After checking that the coast was clear of any members of faculty that might force you and Jisung to go back inside the gym, you ran to the gardens, a place that was quite pretty. Right next to the school flowed a river, which connected to the parent pick up area, accessible by bridge. You and Jisung stood side by side, watching your reflections ripple with the current of the water. The moonlight danced prettily with the water, creating a type of reflection that Jisung had only ever seen in movies. The cool summer breeze brushed against his skin, diminishing the sweat on his forehead.

Then he looked at you.

Your hair was lifted off your shoulders by the wind, the moon casting a silvery shadow across your face, fitting neatly across your facial features like a glove, but his breaking point was when you looked at him. It was as if someone had taken all of the stars in the galaxy and placed them one by one in your eyes. You looked so...beautiful. His heart rate increased dramatically and he was sure there was an intense blush that spread from his cheeks to his ears. Did he always feel like this when he saw you? Surely not. His heart had never raced like this before, and he definitely had never felt so speechless. What could this all mean? Could he...like you? “Hello? Earth to Park Jisung?” Your voice cleared the clouds of doubt from his mind as he finally closed his gaping mouth. “Are you okay? Do I need to tell a teacher?” You asked, a slight furrow in your brow appearing out of concern.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Just spaced out for a second.” He looked away in embarrassment, his eyes drifting over his reflection. Oh God, he was blushing. “The view was pretty and I guess started daydreaming.”

“Were you daydreaming about someone?” You asked simply, before a smile broke across your face. “Were you daydreaming about me?” Jisung almost choked on his spit at your words.

“Was not!” Your laughter only picked up in volume, Jisung having to shush you and remind you that you were not supposed to leave the gym.

“I’m only teasing you, I know you wouldn’t daydream about people. You just like to think about video games and food.”

“Hey, I do not! What’s with the Jisung slander?” You laughed. Something about your laugh was addicting, like a song he had just discovered and was unable to stop the lyrics from playing in your head.

It’s been three weeks since the dance and you and Jisung were in the library, studying. Well, if you were to classify copying your science homework as homework because he had completely forgotten about it. You were currently working on your analysis for your Literature class, reading over the assessment outline to make sure you could get the best grade possible. You looked over and Jisung and he looked so relaxed. His round glasses perched comfortably on the bridge of his nose, his eyes scanning your answers before jotting them down onto his own page, his fingers wrapped firmly around his pen, and his lips pushed into a little pout as he concentrated. He looked so laid back, so relaxed despite the fact he had nearly had a heart attack when you told him that the homework was due by your next class, which didn’t give him enough time to do it at home. With your thoughts swimming through your head and so far into your daydream, you hadn’t noticed that his head had picked up and you were now staring (quite awkwardly) at each other.

“Is there something on my face?” Jisung asked, trying desperately to break the awkwardness between you two. You shook your head rapidly, assuring him that his appearance was fine and you had just spaced out. Well, you hadn’t completely lied. His appearance did look fine, and you had spaced out, you had just decided to leave out the reasoning as to why you had spaced out.

Your cheeks burned harshly, like you were sitting in direct sunlight at the beach without any sunscreen. Is this what a developing crush felt like? Surely not. There’s no way you could have a crush on your best friend. That was weird, according to your friends, but then again, these were the same friends that said that you and Jisung were perfect for each other, so you don’t think they are a very credible source.

Was this how crushes develop? Yes. Yes it was

First Confession

Sophomore year of high school. People are calming down from exam week, finally getting the recommended hours of sleep after the countless number of all nighters that were pulled to cram, drinking water instead of the copious amounts of caffeine. The autumn air was starting to set in and the leaves were starting to fall, catching the wind and creating a train for oranges and browns. You and Jisung were walking home from school, your head pounding after the amount of brain power wasted on several test packages that weighed too heavily on your overall grade in your opinion.

“How about we go get ice cream and go to the park? My treat to the both of us working so hard?” You suggested, turning to the equally emotionally drained best friend beside you. At the mention of a delicious sweet treat, his head perked up and he nodded.

“Yes! Anything to stop my head from hurting,” His lips formed the most relieved smile, your pulse increasing at the sight. In an attempt to calm your racing heartbeat, you watched the leaves, long fallen from the huge oak trees that towered over you, crunch underneath your feet, a little bit of stress releasing each time you stepped in them. Jisung seemed to pick up on this, his smile taking on a playfully mischievous role. He raced ahead of you and jumped, his feet landing firmly in a pile of leaves. The dead leaves flew up around him, creating a skirt of sorts around his waist. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, a stupidly large smile shared between the two of you.

“Come on, let’s get this ice cream before the store closes. We’ll never get there if you keep acting like you’ve never seen leaves before,” You rolled your eyes, continuing down the path, your back now facing Jisung. He jogged to your side, bumping your hip with his when he did.

“You don’t know that.”

“We have literally been friends since we were 5, I think I would know,” Jisung cursed inwardly after taking a second to process what you had said.

“T-That’s not fair and I- hey! Hey! Wait up!”

Walking down a simple path in the park, the bumpy texture of the wafer cone in your hand, and the occasional playful cheers of children and dog passing by was simply relaxing. The simplicity of the noises of everyday life, the perfect natural remedy for an exam induced headache.

You and Jisung came across a beautiful area that overlooked the huge lake in the middle of the park, a popular skating attraction during the winter. There were a few ducks waddling around the water’s edge, a few gliding gracefully along the water and few attempting to ruin a couple’s picnic by stealing their sandwiches. As you sat down on the ground, the crisp breeze whipped lightly across your face, you were relaxed, almost completely forgetting about the exams you had taken only hours earlier.

Jisung was staring at you, he was sure of it. In fact, he’s pretty sure that the elderly couple sitting metres away from the both of you would see it. He followed your gaze when your eyes fell on the most adorable mother duck, being followed by her clumsy ducklings. You liked the one at the back the most, always the most clumsy. You turned to Jisung, a teasing smirk dripping from your lips.

“You see the one at the end?” You pointed to the duckling, whose little webbed foot had caught on a twig, sending it rolling onto its side. Jisung nodded. “That would be you as a duck. The overly clumsy baby of the family,” Jisung’s eyes widened in slight offense at your comment.

“What do you mean? I’m not clumsy!” He tried to defend himself, only gaining a snort from you.

“Right, and I’m the Queen of England,” You said sarcastically, looking back towards the ducks. Between the time you had turned away to tease Jisung and right now, another duck had come back in search of it’s sibling. The duckling looked curiously at the fallen duck, before turning its head and let out high pitched quacks to its mother and signalling her to come back. Jisung watched as the mother duck picked the duckling up by the scruff of the neck and put it back on its feet.

“And if you were a duck, that would be you. Always looking out for the clumsy one,” He commented, watching the family waddle off to a different area of the park. Taking another spoonful of his ice cream (you refused to let him get a cone. With how accident-prone he was, there was only fate for that poor ice cream cone, and it involved Jisung dropping ice cream down his crisp white shirt) before sighing.

“Ducks are cute like you too,” He thought out loud, forgetting that the you in question was sitting right next to him.

“Did you say something?” You asked.

“I-I said ducks are cute, and then I stopped talking!” Real smooth, Park.

“Right…” You said, knowing damn well that isn’t what he said, but you didn’t wish to press further. “My legs are asleep, let’s walk a little more.” You suggested, almost leaping from your spot on the ground. Jisung scrambled to stand up too, his ice cream almost slipping through his fingers.

You walked for what felt like miles, talking about everything under the sun. You hadn’t realised how far you had walked until you were facing the street, with the name of your street written in printed letters on the sign.

“Guess my legs knew it was getting late before I did. I should probably get home before my mom yells at me. See you at school tomorrow, right?” Before you could walk away, you felt a hand on your wrist. Jisung’s hand.

“Wait, I need to tell you something,” Jisung’s voice sounded desperate, like if he didn;t say this now, it would kill him.

“What? Did you leave your jacket at the park again?” You tried to joke, but Jisung’s eyes just pleaded with you.

“Please just listen,” Jisung said, his tone coming out a lot sterner than he had meant to. He exhaled deeply before placing both of his hands in yours, his head swimming with thoughts.

“I like you.” His eyes, his tone, the slight smile on his lips. They all were dripping with sincerity.

“What-”

“I like you. I don’t expect you to accept my feelings but I just really needed to get this off my chest because I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while and-”

“I like you too,” You interjected with a smile, squeezing Jisung’s hand.

“Y-You do?” He repeated your words in his head like a broken record, watching as you gave him a confident nod.

“Yes. Now, can I go home now?” Jisung flustered himself and nodded, letting go of your hand and waving as you disappeared down your street. His cheeks were glowing red, surely resembling a firefly. You liked him too? He felt like a giddy schoolboy, a smile plastered on his face. This was quite possibly the best day of his life.

First Date

“No, no. Absolutely not, I refuse,” Jisung screeched as you swung into an empty parking space in the car park of the ice skating rink. You giggled evilly to yourself.

“You said I get to pick the location of our date, and I choose the ice rink,” You reminded him smugly, giving him a sickly sweet smile. You sunk down in his seat, grumbling unheard profanities as he knew you were right. He had given you the power to choose where you two would have a date together, a power he was now regretting giving you.

“Lighten up, will you? One ice skating session isn’t going to kill you,” You rolled your eyes, making your way towards the entrance to the building.

“I seriously doubt it,” He grumbled, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

There weren’t many others on the rink, some small children with their parents, the odd couple or two, but it was quiet. Well, quiet customer wise.

“Don’t let go of me! I’m too young to die!” Jisung squeaked, your arm wrapped in a death grip from the boy.

“Jisung, you’re not gonna die, not on my watch,” You assured him, helping him up as his knees shook like a newborn giraffe. You were able to shake the grip he had on your arm and hold both of his hands before skating backwards very slowly. “You trust me, right?” “More than anything,” He affirmed. You smiled and tugged him along, giving him perfect momentum to stay on his two feet. You swung yourself around so you were now skating besides him, intertwining your fingers together like puzzle pieces. Gliding together, you felt like you were skating in the middle of a snowy escape, a winter wonderland. You felt as if you were skating with the Snow Kingdom’s prince (except if the Snow Prince didn’t know how to skate) and the snow was falling gently around you delicately.

This fantasy ended when your hand was jerked backwards. Your skates hit an oddly slipping part of the ice, causing you to slip over and fall promptly on the ground, finding yourself face to face with the culprit, your clumsy boyfriend.

“Heh, sorry,” He apologised, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel any kind of unamused emotion towards the boy, only bursting into a fit of giggles.

“You’re too darn cute,” you admitted, knees knocking as you got back onto your feet. You extended your hand, offering it to Jisung as assistance to get him back on his feet.

“Do you wanna try again?” It was more of a suggestion than a question, but you still hesitated, afraid of him saying no.

“What are my chances of getting a concussion?” The boy joked, a bright and gummy smile breaking across his face. You stifled a laugh.

“Pretty high when you assess the situation,” You answered in an amused tone. Jisung suddenly pulled you closer and placed his hands on your cheeks. His slender fingers were freezing cold against the rosy tint of your cheeks, but you didn’t seem to mind all that much. You could see him having an inner battle with himself before grinning in victory. He leaned closer to you, placing a peck to the numbed tip of your nose. Your heart fluttered like it had been caught up in a whirlwind of butterfly wings, delicately carrying them to a higher level than before. You swore you were giving Jisung really obvious heart eyes, but from the way he was looking at you, the exchange must’ve been mutual.

Jisung finally pulled himself together, slow realisation sinking in of what he had just done. “S-Sorry,” he apologised softly, his fingers slipping away from your cheek. You caught it, bringing it down to the height of your shoulder and intertwining your fingers with his.

“Don’t be,” you said cooly, cautiously skating towards the exit to the rink. “I’m starving. Let’s go find lunch. You can pick this time,” you smiled cheerily at him. He snuck a glance to you as he untied the laces of his ice skates. There was something about your smile that was so enchanting, sort of subtle, and perfect, and real. He couldn’t help but wonder if you even knew how wonderful your smile could make someone feel. Especially a someone like Jisung, someone who would find elegance and serenity in the tiniest things you do. He cursed his heart for fluttering stupidly fast, not that it heeded his thoughts, only beating harder the more he stared at you.

“Let’s go,” You announced, extending your hand to him. He grabbed it without a second thought. This felt like home to him, with someone who meant the world to him.

First Kiss

“Jisung, this is crazy! My parents will find out about this!” You whisper-yelled at Jisung, reluctantly throwing on your coat and shoes. Jisung smiled like a fool, feeling like a modern day Romeo as he waited on your front porch. You threw the front door open, seeing your boyfriend, absolutely drenched from head to toe with rain. The rain had been falling heavily for half an hour, so you couldn’t help but wonder what inside his mind decided that he would walk to your neighbourhood in the pouring rain just to see you?

“Jisung, it’s two in the morning. Why are you here?” You interrogated once you shut the door.

“I wanted to see you. Is that such a crime?” He countered, a sly smile resting on his pretty lips. You scoffed, playfully pushing him away. Jisung took a few paces back, extending his long fingers to you.

“Huh?” You vocalised your confusion.

“Come dance with me,” He said, waiting patiently. You hesitated for a moment. You feared the fact that your parents would definitely ground you if they found out that you were escapading at ridiculous hours of the night just to be with a boy, but on the other hand, this was Jisung you were talking about. The night, or morning if you were to be technical, wasn’t getting any younger and nor were you. In that moment, you didn’t care if your parents found out about your late night adventures. You grabbed Jisung’s hand and smiled.

“Show me to the dance floor,” You announced confidently.

To the rest of the world, the two of you probably looked like idiots. Running and shoving each other in the rain, willingly. However to the both of you, you were the only two people in the world. The only light to remind that the world was still there were the dim streetlights, illuminating only within its reach before fading back into darkness.

You danced under the streetlamp, your very own spotlight. You risked the chances of a cold, for the feeling of freedom, to be two dumb kids, fooling around at forsaken hours of the night. You had a smile to your ears and your laughter rang out loudly throughout the slumbering neighbourhood. You squealed when he pulled you closer to him by your hips. Your hands instinctively rested on his shoulders, eyes focusing on him, the water droplets that fell from his soaking wet hair and the goofy smile on his lips.

The laughter that the two of you died down, both of you completely infatuated by the other. How pretty they looked with raindrops kissing their skin, how their eyes sparkled when the light hit them at this angle. Jisung bit the inside of his cheek in hesitation. What if he was reading the signs wrong? What if you didn’t want to? He cautiously leaned forward, and you followed suit. Your lips met briefly before Jisung pulled away, scanning your face for any sign of discomfort or disgust. Instead, he was met with your eyes sparkling brightly, a huge smile breaking across your face.

“You kissed me,” You said, slightly astonished at Jisung’s bravery.

“Yeah, I did,” He mumbled, trying to come to terms with the event that just played out in front of him.

“Do it again,” You egged.

“Excuse me?” His eyes blew wide at your comment.

“Kiss me again.”

To the rest of the world, the two of you probably looked like idiots. However to the both of you, you were the only two people in the world. The only two people in your world.

First Time Falling in Love

The stars twinkled brightly in the dark sky above, like silver glitter that had been thrown into the depths of space. You admired the stars, wishing you could fly up there for a second just to dance among them. It was your calming activity before bed, talking to the stars about your day, especially if it wasn’t particularly a good day. The best part about today however, was that you weren’t gazing up into space in your bedroom, instead lying in the grass with the cool breeze on top of a hill that overlooked the city lights, and you weren’t gazing up into space alone, instead in company of your boyfriend, Jisung.

The two of you had spent the last hour and a half stargazing, talking about everything and anything, the big things like school systems, and the little things like the ladybird that had crawled it’s way up a blade of grass before taking flight above you. You were sleepy and ready to go home. You and Jisung were standing, facing each other, giving the sky one more quick glance before you left. When your vision came back down, you met Jisung’s eyes. They were pretty, a dark chocolate brown, the type of brown that when light hits them at just the right angle, they turn into pools of honey. They were entrancing, glittering, beautiful. It seems like he was just as entranced by your gaze as you were his, as the both of you stood in silence. Finally, Jisung mustered up enough courage like the day he asked you out, and cupped your face. His hands pressed flush against your cheeks, feeling the warmth from your blush underneath them. His lips parted and closed again, like he was trying to tell you something but was second guessing himself.

“I think,” Jisung started, trying to collect his thoughts before speaking. “I think I’m in love with you.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one,” You laughed softly, your eyes flickering from his eyes down to his lips, so full and kissable. Without a second to think, he pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, a kiss full of sweetness and amateur love, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The two of you broke away and smiled. “Shall we go home now?” You asked with lovestruck eyes. He noticed. He smiled.

“Yes, we better,”

You were maybe just a little bit in love with Park Jisung.

First Argument

You can only recount one argument with Jisung.

You sat there at the cafe, looking around nervously for him. The constant checks of your phone and the cafe door every time the bell rang to signify a new customer, you silently hoped it wasn’t true. He wouldn’t do this to you. You refused to believe it. There was no way, right? There was no way Park Jisung had forgotten your date, right?

Wrong.

“Jeno, has anyone ever told you, you suck at MarioKart?” Chenle asked teasingly, pillow colliding with his head, which caused Toad to fly off the edge of the course. Jisung laughed hysterically, tears forming in his eyes as he drove Yoshi to victory. Amongst the commotion going on inside, the doorbell rang. Renjun, who was not participating in his friends’ antics, decided to answer it. Upon seeing you, he was a bit shocked to see you there. You barely showed up there, so to see you standing outside the door, with your coat folded between your arms and a displeased look on your face, took him by surprise.

“Jisung, it’s for you,” Renjun called into the door, abandoning you at the threshold to take over Jisung’s controller.

When your boyfriend saw you, he smiled with a twinkle of confusion in his eye.

“Hey, what are you doing here? We were just playing MarioKart if you-”

“You forgot, didn’t you?” You interrupted bitterly, boring holes in his soul from your gaze alone. Jisung looked at you for a second, trying to comprehend the words that had left your lips moments ago.

“Is it your birthday?” Jisung asked stupidly. Anger flashed in your eyes before you grabbed him by the shoulder of his t-shirt and tugged him out of the dorm. With the door now acting as a barrier between the argument and the fun his friends were having, you could now speak freely.

“3pm, Culture Cafe. Does this mean anything to you?” You interrogated, your tone bitter and upset, a lethal combination. Jisung’s eyebrows furrowed in thought, wracking his brains to try and make connections between the two.

“Our date, Jisung! Our fucking date!” You yelled at him, growing bored of watching him try and remember. “We planned this three days ago, how can you not remember?” Your voice softened in disbelief. “It was just this one thing, but instead I come here and find you playing video games with your friends.” The more you spoke, the more tears blurred your vision.

Jisung swore he heard his heart break when he saw a fat tear roll down your cheek. He had caused those tears, over just how forgetful he really is.

“If there was a more sincere way of saying sorry, I would say it. I can’t think of the words to-” Jisung was cut off by your sobs. He immediately panicked, grasping your shoulders, feeling like a kicked puppy. “No, no, no, baby don’t cry. I promise I’ll-”

“I can’t be here any longer. Just give me a few days,” you used those words as your salutations of farewell, turning on your heel and walking away from him. You silently screamed at yourself for getting so upset over a stupid date, but this wasn’t like Jisung. He was so adamant about not forgetting the important things, so why would he forget this?

It had been five days since the confrontation with Jisung, and you had not spoken to him since. You left him on read with every text message, and deleted every voicemail he left you. You acknowledged you may be acting a bit brashly, but you wanted him to feel the same forgotten feeling that sat in the bottom of your stomach when he left alone at that cafe.

You wanted Jisung to apologise. You just didn’t expect him to apologise the way he did.

Your doorbell rang repetitively, clearly trying to divide your attention from your comfort show. You reluctantly stood up from your comfy spot on the couch, and walked towards the door. Upon opening it, you saw a boy with dark dishevelled hair with a cake in hand. The cake was messily decorated and seemed a bit squashed, but you could still tell it was supposed to be a heart shape.

“Is this your way of apologising?” You asked him monotonously, your eyes still on the cake. Jisung nodded. His eyes seemed puffy.

“I don’t mean to ruin the apology, but why does the cake look a bit…”

“Squished?” Jisung finished, a sad smile playing at his lips. “Chenle, the stupid ass, sat on the box before I left. All my hard work, now flattened,” He gave a half hearted chuckle before silencing himself.

“Look, I am really, really sorry. I was stressing, and the boys thought it would be a good idea if I spent time out of my room and play some games with them to stop moping around, and I didn’t realise how fast the time went and I forgot about our date and then I felt horrible and I-” He rambled on, an embarrassed blush colouring his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He stopped when he heard you giggle, a soft, almost whimsical sound. You took the cake box from him and smiled.

“You put all of this work in, just for an apology?” You asked, a soft smile subconsciously creeping across your face.

“You weren’t answering your phone, so I got desperate,” Jisung admitted, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck at your reaction. You stepped forward to kiss his cheek, his skin warm against your lips.

“So, am I forgiven?” He asked nervously, feeling cold sweat dribble down the back of his neck.

“Depends. Are you gonna share this cake with me?” You countered, stepping aside to invite him in.

“Who did you bribe to allow you in the kitchen by yourself?”

“Hey!”

First Dance

“Hurry up, we’re going to miss the sunset,” Jisung tugged you up the hill, sunlight casting over his face the higher he hiked up the mountain. You let out a tired laugh as you allowed him to drag you up the mountain. Once you reached the top, you finally understood why he wanted to show you this place. The view was spectacular. The sunset gave the landscape an orange hue to it, even the ocean sparkled like magnificent glitter. The orange specks glowed like millions of fireflies, creating a picture perfect landscape, one that belonged within the walls of a world famous museum.

“This is stunning,” You sighed in awe, the dusk lighting flicking its rays into your irises. Jisung nodded firmly, pride bubbling in his chest at knowing he picked the perfect place.

“Baby?” He asked, hiding his shyness as best he could.

“Yeah?” You answered, eyes breaking away from the beautiful atmosphere to him. He held his hand out, suggesting something.

“Dance with me?” He asked politely, a pink tint colouring the tips of his ears. You giggled lightly.

“Dancing is meaningless without music,” You informed, warm breeze whipping past the exposed parts of your skin. Jisung whipped out his phone, briefly tapped on the screen and waited before a soft and calming song played from the speakers. He slipped it into his back pocket, quickly taking your left hand in his right, his left hand coming down to rest on your waist and steadily rocking you to the melody. Your head rested against his chest, inhaling his warm scent. He smelt of fresh cotton sheets and something else that can only be described as the sweetest fruit of the summer.

The moment felt like a scene out of a fairytale, a nonsensical world that only manifested in the creative young minds of children, however the way the gentle breeze kissed your cheek and ruffled your hair, the last of the sun’s rays pressed a warm glow to your skin, it felt too real to be make believe.

Jisung twirled you around on the spot, a giggle escaping your lips as you fell gracefully against his chest. As you spun around to face him again, the look in his eyes could only be truly explained with one word; ‘Lovestruck’, like his whole world revolved around you. You were his moon, his stars, his world. You might as well have been his whole solar system, dammit. He pressed a soft chaste kiss your lips, pulling away and leaving only centimeters between the both of you.

“I love you,” Jisung’s face lit up like the fireflies that played in the valley beneath you. You cracked a giddy smile, lacing your fingers with him.

“I love you too,” You requited, realising that the song you were originally dancing to had faded out some time ago, only dancing along to the beat of each other’s heart. He laughed at this discovery, holding you closer and hearing the faint drum of your thumping heart. He hummed to himself as thoughts of you swam through his head, but only one stuck out to him. It was less of a thought and more like an idea, a wish, a dream, a promise.

You are my first love, and I intend for you to be my last

263 notes · View notes

xseaxwitchxkpop · 3 years

Text

Too Much Overthinking

A/N: This fic is pretty reflective of my own thoughts and pretty self-indulgent. While I kinda wanted to keep this to myself, I felt that there’s other people that could benefit from the comfort of the fic that I tried to go for. Self-love, or at very least self-acceptance, is such a hard journey and sometimes our heads get the better of us. The reader is not necessarily female, so I used no female pronouns, but the reader is framed as femme-presenting, so keep that in mind when reading. So many of fics like these end in sex and it irks me because us fat people are not fetishes, we are people, and deserve to be comforted as such, so I decided to write what I want lol. Also I chose Jongho because he comes off as very emotionally mature and very emotionally intelligent (ignore the fact that he was one of two members that caught my attention and made me stan Ateez lol).

Genre: Comfort

Reader Type: femme!reader, plussize!reader

CW: very negative thoughts, body image issues, a little emotional lol

Requested: NO

Group: ATEEZ -- Jongho

Word Count: 1,491

The boys stayed late at the studio, the night steadily getting darker as you stare out the window and watch the moon climb into the sky and shine. The day feels over already and Jongho once again misses the dinner you made him earlier, complete with missing the cute lunchbox cake you got to celebrate your two year anniversary.

Your heart sinks and your mouth turns into a frown -- you never considered yourself clingy or codependent, but there are times when perhaps you would like him to think about you a little more or that you wanted to stick to his side and never let go.

But him missing this special dinner tonight triggered your negative thoughts and began a less-than-savory night for you; no, you don’t blame him for your thoughts because he didn’t force you to think the things you do, but the current situation certainly doesn’t help.

The soft blankets welcome you with arms of warmth and the mountain of pillows cradle your head as you stare at the ceiling with horrid thoughts running through your heads. You’re too fat, anyway, didn’t need the amount of carbs in the noodles. Your stomach sticks out and sweeps the edge of the counter in a way it shouldn’t, time to lose some! You’re nothing but a good fuck for him, he’s definitely trying to get another woman that’s thinner...they’ve been using a lot of female backup dancers lately…

You whip yourself around in your blankets, trying to squash the thoughts or at least put a temporary stop to them.

You’re not sure how much time has passed, but you hear the door to your apartment opening and closing, accompanied by shuffling that indicates Jongho came by and took off his jacket, shoes, and made his way to the bedroom.

You feel the bed dip down behind you and a solid chest snuggle against your back; his arm threw itself around your body and squished you against him, squishing your stomach in the process and making you feel extremely uncomfortable. His breath lingered on the back of your neck as you heard him whisper that he’s sorry for missing the dinner and that he’d make it up to you tomorrow.

You certainly didn’t want him to know you’re awake, but your mouth moves faster than your brain: “Are you actually?”

His breathing hitches, not realizing that you are still awake. The grip around your midsection loosened and you take the opportunity to lift his arm off of you and scoot away from him. He props himself up on his elbow and peers at the back of your head -- you can’t see the hurt and confusion in his eyes, but you can at least feel the searing gaze aimed at the back of your head.

“What do you mean by that?” he asks, wanting to reach out a hand and rub your arm, but forcing himself to stop. He knows that he fucked up by missing the anniversary celebration, but the synergy of the group was radically off kilter today and it took longer than it should have for all of them to perfect the choreography and he was going to explain tomorrow. But he can’t figure out why this bothered you so much -- you were always understanding and that’s one of the reasons you had his heart.

All you can do is sigh, not wanting to burden him with your negative thoughts, but your tear ducts have other ideas and so thus did your brain.

“What I mean is why stay so late? And without so much as a text or phone call?” you mumble.

“Hmm?” he says, not quite hearing you.

You sit up and turn yourself to face him, barely holding back tears. “Do you not love me any more? Am I not attractive to you any more? Am I just a good fuck for you at this point?”

Jongho’s face fell (not that you can see it in the darkness of the room) and he reaches out to your vague silhouette, wanting to caress your face. “Y/N --”

“No!” you shout at him, hugging yourself and scooting yourself further from him, the hard surface of the wall hitting your back.

“There’s gonna be a day where you wake up and realize that you don’t love me any more, realize that my fat stomach is not cute or good for gripping but repulsive, that my back rolls aren’t sexy but gross, that you’re just lying to yourself and lying to me! You don’t find me sexy, you don’t find my body attractive, and you’ll wake up and realize that and leave me! There’s so many better people out there, yeah, with thinner bodies, with no protruding stomach, with slim arms and a defined jawline, no fat poking out in their bras, with legs that don’t rub together and chaff and can fit beautifully into short skirts…one day, you’re gonna wake up and look at me the way I look at myself.”

Tears leave streaks down your face as you ramble. You tighten the blankets around you in an effort to hide yourself. And Jongho, your boyfriend of two years who has done nothing but make you feel loved, that shows you off in public and is proud to have you for a S/O, feels his heart drop so low he doesn’t know if it is in his body any more. His eyes also sting with tears hearing how you view yourself and he’s at a loss for what to say; he knows that you don’t think highly of yourself, but to hear it in its entirety, with you in tears and hearing, unfiltered, what goes on in your head hurts him. He remembers the intense struggle that Seonghwa had with his own image and how he still slips into that mindset sometimes, but you’re not Seonghwa and can’t be reassured the same way.

Jongho crawled his way to you and cupped your face, forcing you to look him in the eyes as much as possible. At a loss for what else to do, he places his lips gently on yours and just stays there; he feels the wet tracks from your eyes to your chin and the ragged breaths through your nose from your crying.

He eventually pulls away but stays close to your face, rubbing his thumb across your cheekbone. “Why are you thinking these things, hm? Was it because I stayed late? I really am sorry about that,” he whispers into the space between you two.

“I...I don’t know...I just...you’re using more female backup dancers...and you missed my...missed my dinner.”

“What do female backup dancers have to do with anything? Do you think any of them can take me from you?”

You look up at him as he hits the nail on the head, pathetically sniffling in an attempt to not only regulate breathing but also not to open the floodgates again.

“Oh, sweetheart, nothing like that will happen,” he says, pulling you into a tight hug, fighting you, fighting him because the last thing that he wants is for you to think he’s gonna leave you high and dry.

You sink into him, trying even harder to not cry and trying not to think about how you look when crying, trying to ignore the thoughts that tell you that you being an ugly crier is part of the reason that you are horrendously unattractive.

“But what if it does? They’re fit, they’re healthy, they’re attractive…” you start, muttering into his shoulder.

“Who said that?” he counters with lightning speed, not letting you finish the statement. “You? You can’t trust your opinion of yourself in the mirror, how are you to judge what I do and don’t find attractive? You say they’re attractive to me because you don’t find yourself attractive enough to be with me, which your heart will tell you is not true.”

You can’t hold anything in any more and let yourself cry, and not just a small one. You soak his shirt with tears, you claw your way onto his lap and hold him in a death-grip, and you cried, a cathartic one that poured at your emotions into this one cry.

Jongho can’t do anything but hold you with a heavy heart; hearing you cry your heart out hurt him to a degree and he had to hold back his own tears threatening to spill.

He leans back against the mountain of pillows, pulling you with him, and rubbing your back and squeezing your shoulder. You cry yourself to sleep, eventually becoming dead weight on your boyfriend’s chest, which he wholeheartedly embraced. He slowly falls asleep after you, promising himself that, despite the good communication you two had, he’d try to be more mindful of how much you feel loved and ensure that he doesn’t leave doubt in the future for his love for you.

#ateez #jongho #fem!reader #plussize!reader #my writing #comfort hours #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #jongho x reader

68 notes · View notes

thattimdrakeguy · 3 years

Note

Okey! Some Autistic Timmy thoughts, coming right up! (Most of these are self projection lol😅)

1. HATES chalk. Like really, really hates it. The texture is the WORST it gets on his hands and he HATES it so so so much. He touches chalk and immediately has the urge to rip his skin off. The first time he touched chalk as a toddler he actually started crying.

2. Needless to say, his life is pretty unstructured. This doesn't really bother him, HOWEVER, if his "suiting up in the cave" routine is interrupted it WILL mess up his entire day. If he's suiting up at home or anywhere else it's fine, but for some reason he's particular about the cave routine. Luckily Bruce is also a very routine oriented person so it's not a big deal, but when someone else is in charge and it changes it bothers him. He can still function perfectly well, he just gets more anxious than usual.

3. Kraft mac n cheese is his comfort food. He measures out the ingredients exactly so it will taste the same every time.

4. Watched a documentary about ocean creatures when he was 8 and memorized the whole thing. Can and will tell you the creepiest and most disturbing facts from it if prompted to.

5. Rocks in his chair when he's sitting and thinking, to the point where the floor around his desk has scratch marks. He's fallen over and bonked his head many times and it drives Alfred insane.

6. This one is actually supported by canon to an extent but I think he really likes labelling things with the Robin symbol. It's fun and easy to draw and it gives him a little serotonin boost every time he see's one of his things labeled like that. Bruce noticed it and always makes sure to label all of Tim's new gear before he gives it to him. To make things easier to distinguish, of course. Because it would definitely be so easy to mistake the primary colored xx small clothes and gadgets for belonging to anybody else.

Sorry, not all of these are directly related to autism I guess. I just put things that I see commonly in myself and other autistic people that I thought he might also do. Love your blog btw!

I honestly really love these to be honest, cause I can really easily picture Tim doing all of these kinds of stuff. Like it fits in amazingly well with his personality. I mean I don’t know about the chalk and Mac and Cheese, but that’s purely because I don’t think you could tell that from a personality, but you can get what I mean lol. It’s all great.

I actually had the Robin one myself too, at least kind of. Maybe not a label specifically on everything, but I can picture him just having a Robin symbol of everything that’s his rather it was bought that way like the symbol on his shirt or a backpack, to the labels and tags on other things because Robin just means so much to him.

Now it’s got me imagining it on LITERALLY everything, like Dick, Cass, Babs maybe even, and Timmy himself all having a sleepover party in the living room or cave or something, and someone nearly grabs Tim’s pillow and blanket and he gets jumpy like “Hey, no, that ones mine!”, which isn’t even tellable at first because this ones just his plain pillow and blanket, not his merch one. But he yoinks it out of their hand and shows them a personally made label in the form of a little tiny tag on them both.

If you put out all of the Batkids stuff in front of you (I’m imagining like all neat and folded and each person’s stuff is in their own little group next to the other people’s stuff’s also grouped), it’d be so obviously Tim’s (I mean besides no one else being able to fit into his tiny tiny clothes). Like “Okay, Robin flashlight, Robin lunchbox, Robin jammies, Robin blanket, Robin socks, Robin shirt, Robin labeled short pants, Robin cap, Robin band-aids, Robin sweater, Robin jacket, Robin briefs, Robin wrist watch, Robin nightlight, Robin label on the grappling hook, Robin label in the boots and as a shape on the sole, Robin toothbrush, Robin hairbrush, Robin--okay hmm. Who’s is this?”

Not that he wears all of it at once, but just having the option makes him unreasonably happy, and he can’t even really explain it to a Dick or Cass who may ask, but it just does.

Dick sarcastically asks him: “Was the Robin identity and costume not enough?”

When there’s a mess somewhere, you can always tells what’s Tim’s to be able to give it to him.

I also really like the one about his routine cause it feels like that thing that would just nag at Tim and he can’t really explain it. Like everything's going well, he has everything, but the school changes the schedules for everyone and Tim’s just uncomfortable for the rest of the day. He just doesn’t like it.

Ends up making him do these little checks to make sure he has all of his gadgets too, and Bruce could’ve sworn he checked like twice already on everything, but Tim just has to do it or else he’ll be upset for the rest of his night.

Same with Y.J. when he goes to Mount Justice he also had to do these routines and Bart and Kon catch on and try to mess it up sometimes when they’re feeling extra pranky, but I figure either Cassie or maybe even Slobo of all people figures out why Tim always seems perpetually grumpy or upset at them afterwards, so they eventually knock it off. Included with an apology even if it does sound half-assed at first.

Like I could go all day with the little visions popping in my head with the headcanons, but I really like it.

Oh! And thank you for enjoying my blog! That's amazing of you.

36 notes · View notes

jui-imouto-chan · 4 years

Note

How does Atsumu and Osamu fit into the story? I love them both especially in a hinaharem, so I'm curious!!

Part 10

Previous | Next

[Image Description: A screenshot of a reply from a user named @mickybloginb379 . The text written is, “Miya Twins as foxes and maybe Fox Kita too? Kita finding Shoyo first and repeatingly visiting which leads to the Twin’s getting curious, and circling around shoyo’s legs at the same time :)” End ID]

•

I got carried away OTL. This may have been influenced by me watching too much NatsuYuu

•

Hinata was not pleased with this situation.

Pressing his back to a a withering tree, his eyes darted around as a shiver passed through his body. The graveyard was quiet, although the tranquility that some found when cleaning the tombstones was evidently not present within Hinata.

A breeze broke the eerie stillness, sending a few leaves aloft, which then skittered across the ground whence gravity recalled them. Hinata whimpered a bit.

“I just need to clean up the grave and place and offering. Clean and offering. Clean and offering...”

“You can’t clean a grave from behind a tree.”

Hinata screamed, backing further against the tree, the bark digging into and scratching his skin through his shirt. “Wh-Who—Ghost?!”

From the white robes to the silver-and-black hair, the guess wasn’t unfounded.

“Nope.”

Hinata could’ve cried from relief.

“Are you lost?”

“N-no. I think....”

It was clear as day that the other was unamused by his momentary incapability, rolling his eyes and grasping Hinata’s wrist softly to tug him away from the tree. Hinata’s cheeks burned. Despite his mild mortification, he felt a wash of gratitude flood him.

Eventually, Hinata was stood before his father’s grave, and his palm was pressed snugly against the silver-black haired person’s. Their fingers loosened their clasp, but didn’t unwind fully, not until Hinata heard the jingle of bells and a breeze brush his side, his hand suddenly empty.

And then, with another gust and another jingle, the other returned, a broom and dustpan firmly in his grasp. “I’ll bring something to clean the headstone with. Sweep the ground, for now.”

Hinata really shouldn’t have been surprised that this person was supernatural, honestly. His features were far too serene and eyes too present for him have been just a normal person around his age, after all. Not that Hinata knows very many normal people.

The two of them cleaned quite efficiently, and the other, introducing himself as Kita Shinsuke, even brought incense for Hinata to light. Hinata offered him some of the food his mom had made as the offering for his father, but Kita said it wouldn’t be right to eat it if it wasn’t intended for him.

“Then if I make you something, will you eat it? I wanna thank you for your help! You really saved me today!”

“I’d be willing to eat what you make, although I won’t say I like it if it doesn’t taste good.”

Hinata smiled determinedly, “I’ll make the best lunch ever, I promise!”

Kita, despite his strong inclination of doubt, couldn’t help but smile back, albeit nearly unnoticably.

•

Kageyama was thankfully not home for the first five attempts at making Kita a lunch box, although he did bear witness to the latter half of them, which was still unfortunate. Hinata’s mother would have scolded him, but she and Natsu were too busy speculating about why he was making the lunch and occasionally strolling in to assist him.

“It’s done!” Hinata cried after the twelfth try. Kageyama dutifully kept his mouth shut, for once, eyeing Hinata’s hands and steering the redhead to the bathroom to clean up.

•

“Kita-san!!!!” Hinata called out to the cemetery, his bright aura dispelling the eeriness of the location. “Kita-saaaaan!!!”

“You shouldn’t shout in a place like this. It’s rude,” Kita murmured, his hand settling over Hinata’s mouth. “Will you behave?” The redhead nodded, and Kita slowly removed his palm. “So, what’d you need?”

Hinata proferred a box wrapped with a yellow cloth dotted with cats. “I brought you lunch, like I promised!”

Kita looked a little taken aback, and Hinata wondered if he was imagining the way Kita’s hair seemed to twitch. “You remembered?”

“It was only like, two days ago! How could I forget? Especially when Kita-san saved me from ghosts and stuff—”

“—That didn’t happen. There wasn’t a single ghost—”

“—it’d be ungrateful of me if I didn’t make good on my promise!”

Kita’s almost couldn’t handle watching Hinata break out into a grin. His eyes felt strained, like he was staring directly into the sun, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away. Softly, he let the corners of his lips push up, and he accepted the box gingerly.

“Let’s eat elsewhere,” he offered, urging Hinata to hold onto him by the shoulder. He jumped, one foot landing before the other onto a hill of long grass overlooking flower fields. A forest stood off to the right, and a single tree sat behind them, providing a bit of shade.

Hinata wasn’t quite prepared for the sudden transport, stumbling to his knees before gazing around in wonder.

Kita helped him up. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

“Yeah!”

Eventually the two of them settled to the ground, Hinata watching anxiously as Kita opened the lunchbox.

Kita paused, observing Hinata’s jitters. “It’s not poisoned, is it?”

He shook his head, Kita breathing a chuckle.

“It was a joke. Thank you for the meal.” His hands pressed together in a momentary prayer, and then he lifted a single octopus-hot-dog-weiner to his mouth. Hinata watched him intently, and Kita knew before it hit his tongue that Hinata put in a lot of effort when making the meal. Just that info made it delicious, but once he’d swallowed it, he eagerly sought more, trying some of the riceballs and vegetables on the sides. He saved the fruit for last.

“Is it good? Do you like it?”

Kita nodded serenely, offering an octodog to the redhead. Hinata immediately latched on and slid the octodog out from between the chop sticks. Kita had to avert his eyes, only to spot the bandages wrapping Hinata’s fingers and parts of his palms.

“You’re hurt.”

“Oh, yeah! I accidentally chopped my fingers, and burned them. I stopped hurting myself as much after the fourth try, though!”

“How many tries did you take?”

“Twelve!”

“Sounds like you wasted a lot of food,” Kita commented. At that, Hinata pulled a pouty smile on his face that was a bit too adorable to not gain amusement from, though Kita consoled him with a ruffle of his hair.

They descended into a comfortable quiet.

After ten minutes, which. Kita almost wished could have been eternity, Hinata tugged on his sleeve. “Will you let me make you lunch again?” He mumbled, looking up through his lashes.

•

“I smell food.”

“That’s just because you’re a damn glutton.”

“What was that? You wanna say that again you bastard?”

“If I’m a bastard then so are you!”

Fists flew, the sound of fighting accompanied by shouts and grunts. Kita stepped in just as Osamu bit Atsumu’s calf and Atsumu yanked his hair.

“Why is it that every time one of you speaks, it comes to this? Do you find amusement in wasting your minimal energy on healing injuries that could have been avoided?”

The twins’ ears flattened against their skulls, their big, dejected eyes ineffective against Kita’s bland disposition.

“Sorry.”

Kita breezed past them, starting up the electric kettle to prepare himself some tea.

Osamu and Atsumu perked up at once.

“Your steps are bouncier,” Atsumu piped, at the same time as Osamu commented, “You smell like food.” They then made eye contact with each other and pointed, simultaneously saying, “Oh hey, you’re right!”

The two small fox spirits proceeded to prod at him endlessly regarding his seemingly ‘good mood’, and the tiny smile he had as he batted them away seemed to only fuel their suspicions.

“Woah... Tsumu, he’s got more energy, too.”

“Yeah, it’s radiating!”

They likely absorbed some of the stray energy coming off him, growing a little taller. Instead of looking like toddlers, they now were the equivalent size of a six year-old human. It was almost strange to see them this way.

Kita didn’t let his confusion show on his face, though his tail swished slightly, enough to peek out of his robes. His ears also raised off the top of his head, finally, twitching as he considered where the extra energy came from.

Was it the lunch?

“Kita-san, what did you do? Did you eat someone?”

“No, I don’t do things that I don’t let you two do.”

The twins seemed to communicate with just eye-contact, and it was one of those rare occasions where Kita couldn’t quite decipher what they intended to do with the information they had.

•

Hinata always felt antsy during the moments Kita prayed--just between the “Thanks for the meal,” and the first bite he’d take of the food Hinata prepared for him. This time, Kita brought with him a small snack in exchange for Hinata’s.

“You’ve gotten better,” he commented after a swallow. He always wiped his mouth between bites instead of licking his lips, meticulously keeping the tissue folded in a particular manner. “I think the fried rice could use a bit more salt next time, though.”

“Ah, thank you! I’ll remember that!”

It felt like an escape to spend time with Kita, somewhere far away and unknown. Like a secret retreat, away from all of the other supernatural beings that he contracted, and away from the stress of school and tests and life. Hinata felt like he got more chipper than usual after their picnics.

Unbeknownst to Hinata, the same could be said about Kita. They’d only meet once or twice per week, and yet the silverette couldn’t always keep his smiles at bay even days after their lunches. Furthermore, the surges of extra energy from the meals helped him keep a better eye on his troublesome junior foxes, even allowing them to ‘age up’ when they’d latch onto him.

Speaking of those troublemakers...

“Did you hear that?” Hinata asked him, peering over at a spot in the long grass. “I think someone’s there.”

Kita sighed, brushing off his pants and preparing to grab his companions and send them home. However, before he could begin to walk over, Hinata was crouched in front of the patch where the twins hid, smiling at them disarmingly.

“Are you two lost?”

The silverette joined him with a hand on his shoulder.

“They’re not lost, don’t worry. They’re with me.”

Hinata grinned at them. “You’re Kita-san’s friends? Nice to meet you!”

Their eyes widened just a bit, tails swishing.

Kita knew it was inevitable that the twins would get interested, but he should’ve known that it was going to happen much sooner than he’d have ever hoped.

•

Days later, Hinata presented two extra boxes, one with a silver-blue wrapping and the other with a sunset-gold. “I’ve brought some for them, too. The little foxes.”

“Atsumu might not eat it,” Kita warned, “Although if Osamu eats first, then he’ll probably get hungry and give in.”

“Which one’s which?”

Kita’s eyes gleamed. “I’ll let you figure that out.”

The twins did not come to spy on them this time, but Kita dutifully brought the lunchboxes to their cabin once Hinata left. As expected, Osamu dug right in, and Atsumu held out as long as he could before giving into his competitive nature. The twins choked on the food in their efforts to finish eating before the other (Osamu won), but when they finished, their bodies were at the approximate age of 13.

Even more impressive than that, though, was that they remained older for a lot longer than they usually do with extra energy, reverting back gradually over the course of a few days rather than the standard overnight regression.

If Hinata’s cooking alone could produce such results, then what would a contract do? ...What would his blood do?

Kita closed his eyes and banished the thoughts before they could fully manifest.

•

• Part 10 of (?) •

• I really liked writing Kita. I feel like he’d actually really like Hinata, since Hinata’s always been really hardworking and puts in all this effort to be better. I think Hinata would really like that Kita’s attentive and a good listener, so he could ramble endlessly if he wanted and Kita would be content to listen. •

• Also, anybody curious as to why Osamu and Atsumu ‘age up’ and ‘revert’ to a younger state? •

•• Send Asks for more! Feel free to ask about characters and send Headcanons! Or if u wanna just talk Haikyuu/ships, I’m good with that too! :) and for other parts, search the “summoner au” tag on my blog and you’ll find em! ••

Previous | Next

#kita shinsuke #hinata shoyo/everyone #hinata harem #haikyuu #hinaharem #kitahina #atsuhina #miyahina #miya atsumu #miya osamu #osahina #hq #haikyu #miya twins #osahinaatsu #atsuhinaosa #atsuosahina #summoner au

137 notes · View notes

anonymous0writer · 4 years

Text

Innocent

Author: @anonymous0writer

Warnings: Swearing. Alcohol/drug use? Drug addiction. heavy drugs. Two second mention of Cancer.

Requested: Yes!

“songfic request :: Innocent by Taylor Swift × Rafe“

A/N: My first Rafe fic!!! Yay! I hope you enjoyed it and it was good! I hope I did Rafe justice. (I also came up with why Ward’s first wife wasn’t in the picture. And I came up with her name.)

Also, I’ve never dealt with addiction, (or did drugs) so I tried to write it to the best of my ability. I’m sorry if I didn’t convey it well!

Also this is LONG!! :)

Also a shout out to @lindzaylove for giving me all these songfics!!

I guess you really did it this time Left yourself in your warpath Lost your balance on a tightrope Lost your mind tryin' to get it back

Rafe glared at the floor, his vision swimming as he desperately tried to keep his tears in. His breathing was erratic, sharp and shallow, coming in and out in shaky intervals.

He couldn’t handle it. He ached for it. For the coke to reenter his veins and light him up, and give him another high. The pressure in his head was almost too much, and he let a tear fall down his cheek. A silent reminder of his pain and mental war.

Rafe knew it wasn’t good to feel this way about it. But he needed it. To shut out the absence of his father’s love, to forget how Sarah was the favorite, to forget how he was suck a fuck up. God, how he needed the drug in his veins. The coke made his forget and ache a little less. It helped blur the lines of his disastrous life and unlovable self.

He was trying. For a while. He tried so hard to be the good, perfect son to his father. But the need for the coke tugged at the back of his mind, and his father just denied his plea for love. That’s all Rafe wanted. To feel loved and wanted and a part of his family. Sure, he’d never been the perfect kid, but it was built in for a parent to love their kid, right? No matter what? That love was unconditional? Right?

So once again denied, Rafe turned to the only thing he could nurse comfort out of. Coke. And the vicious circle started again. Rafe never got love, so he turned to coke, which made him fuck up, which made him even more lost to his father love and approval.

Wasn't it easier in your lunchbox days? Always a bigger bed to crawl into Wasn't it beautiful when you believed in everything? And everybody believed in you?

It used to not be so bad. Back when he had you. And when he mother was still in the picture. If you looked closely into Rafe Cameron’s past, lots of things caused Rafe to be the way he was today.

The first turning point was when Sarah was born. Rafe had been his father’s pride and joy. Ward and Melissa has tried several times before Rafe stuck. The pregnancy had been hard and rough, and Ward hated the way Melissa was in pain all the time, causing a very small hatred for his unborn son.

And then Sarah came along. Rafe was three, and somehow he knew why there was a sudden shift in attention. This naturally came with every newborn baby, but the young boy knew it was different. Rafe was used to mind games, by the way his father walked and talked around the house.

Sarah became the shining light, and the sole bearer of her parents attention and praise. But Melissa noticed Rafe’s acting up. How he grew silent and didn’t talk when Sarah came into the room, or when Ward did. He knew all too well what to do when his father or sister was in the room. Because when Sarah was there, why would he be the focus? He’d been told to be quiet and ‘shh’ed so many times that he learned to stop talking all together when his baby sister entered. And his father had the same effect. The young boy was used to begin second best and ignored, but only when it came to his father and sister.

His mother didn’t ignore her son. She loved him and refused to silence her child, even if she thought Sarah was a better child. After all, the birth and pregnancy had been so much better, and she’d been a perfect baby.

So Rafe grew to deprived of love and envying Sarah and pitying Wheezie. The youngest didn’t even have a chance. Melissa and Ward hadn’t even wanted another child. But they’d been pleasantly surprised. But the new addition to the family still didn’t have a chance. Sarah was still miles above where she and Rafe stood. At least the boy had gotten some love before Sarah arrived. But maybe he had it worse. After all, he knew what it was like to be loved and then he’d been stripped of it. Wheezie didn’t even know what it felt like, so how could she be broken over it?

And then Melissa died. Cancer had hit her hard and fast. Took her down with a swift motion. The one person Rafe had to love him was gone. So now, the ten year old had to live without love and a mother.

The boy grew up, trying to please his father that never could be satisfied. He tried his hardest in school, and did quite well, but not to Ivy League standards. Or his fathers. But soon, Rafe came to realize he could do things without consequences with his money and his grades dropped. So the sixteen year old went down a short path of causing destruction where ever he went and picking fights at the tiniest thing. That stopped once Ward found out.

That night Rafe was slapped across the facing, sending him to the floor. Of course, neither sister or Rose had been there. No one witnessed the abuse, so if Rafe ever came out about it, Ward would make sure to crown his son as a liar, if that wasn’t his title already.

That night was yelled at, Wards voice making the boy cower, his cheek still stinging terribly. Rafe touched his cheek where a welt was blooming. He looked up, terrified, at his father. Ward was towering, eyes hard and furious.

After that night, the blue eyed boy stayed straight until the night be met Barry. Rafe had been straying from his clear path, and Barry only turned him in the wrong direction. It started with a pill every couple months. And Rafe continued to blur the lines and ease his mind until he was lying on the floor, broken.

And here he was. Broken, half homeless, kicked out, unloved and not even on his father’s radar and addicted.

It's alright, just wait and see Your string of lights is still bright to me Oh, who you are is not where you've been You're still an innocent You're still an innocent

It was two months before Rafe’s nineteenth birthday (and before he teetered off the edge of his addiction) when he met you. You were on the Cameron’s yacht, there for a small Kook get together. Ward had invited your father and his family.

So there you were, white bikini stark against your tan skin. Sunglasses pushed up to perched on your head, half buried in your long, silky hair. Smile bright as you talked to Sarah.

Rafe had never felt breathless, or felt his stomach flip. But the was a first time for everything. And he felt both as he watched you. Intrigued, the boy made his way over to you.

“Hello, ladies.” He smirked, taking a second to admire you upclose.

Sarah raised her eyebrows at her brother. “Hi Rafe.” She smiled, and was quick to introduce you two. “Y/N, this my brother Rafe. Rafe, this is Y/N.”

Rafe thanked his sister silently for the first time in his life. He reached out, shaking your hand as you smiled. Your shake was good and firm.

“I know who you are,” You cocked your head slightly at the boy. “The infamous Rafe Cameron.”

Rafe swallowed. Did you think badly of him? Doubts swirled in his mind as he carried on the conversation with you. Despite his doubts, talking to your was incredibly easy.

You however, were immediately attracted to your friend’s older brother. Rafe was tall, cocky and bad. Exactly what broke you, but exactly what you fell for. Every damn time. You knew he was a druggie and did shitty things, but you had a thing for guys with problems. But as you continued talking to the tall boy, Sarah slinking away, you found it was a natural conversation. Not stiff, polite ones that you always held at Kook functions.

Rafe was one confusing character. He was bad. Wholly and completely bad, and you knew that. Yet as you talked, there was something in his eyes and in the way he talked that seemed nice and genuine. And if he himself hadn’t gotten you falling, that did.

Your relationship picked up fast, jumping from step to step with ease and grace. You’d already been deemed as Rafe’s bitchy girlfriend, and you guys has already has sex. Multiple times. In his house. In yours. In his car. On the beach. In the water. Everywhere. As you dated, you guys dealt with the titles granted to you. You were apparently a bitch, and Rafe was, well, he already gained his title.

Your parents were furious that you went out with a druggie and brought him home. But that’s part of the reason you did it. You’d never been one to fit in the lines, and Rafe was exactly the type of person to competently fuck the lines.

So when Rafe asked you to be his date to his birthday, you said yes. But you had no idea what you were getting into. And the party was riskier and more outside the lines than you thought. Sure, you’d gotten shitfaced drunk and did drugs those few times, but this party was over the top. And it had your boyfriends name written all over it.

Beer and vodka at every turn. Cocaine and pills passed into every hand, snorted up every nose and given to every doe eye person here. Music, heavy and nasty hung in the air, pulsing and thriving in the air. Cheers and chants filled the air like a bad smell. The party was the living thought of a classic high school party. Drugs, alcohol, and horny, grinding teens in abundance. You gaped at your boyfriend, feeling like you were too outside the lines to even see them. This was too much. You weren’t like these people. Sure you acted like it, but in reality, you only did drugs because of peer pressure and only downed beers on dares. You weren’t the bitch or person everyone thought you were. You hadn’t even had sex more than twice before you met Rafe. You knew Rafe changed you and you didn’t care. But if this is what everyone thought you did on a regular basis, your boyfriend had changed you more than you thought.

Just as you were about to pull away and tell the birthday boy you felt sick, he kissed your neck and led you into the middle of the party. In the throng of people pushing and jumping and calling it dancing. Stuck in the middle of these hundreds of people, you couldn’t leave.

So you fell with Rafe. Fell into the welcoming arms of drugs and too much alcohol. You knew Rafe did this somewhat regularly, but you were too faded to realize that he was miles ahead of you. You didn’t even know he was about to hit the bottom.

Did some things you can't speak of But at night you'll live it all again You wouldn't be shattered on the floor now If only you had seen what you know now then

Rafe took another big breath, brain screaming, eyes heavy, limbs weak. He was exhausted and aching. He needed the coke like he needed air. His body screamed for the drug to thrive in his veins again. To make he happy and alert. To give strength and power back.

He sobbed, lying on his back, tears streaming down his face, staining his cheeks. It felt like he couldn’t breath. No it didn’t feel that way. He couldn’t fucking breath. He rasped, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

Rafe couldn’t think straight. He didn’t even know where he was or how he’d gotten here. He could barely focus on the sounds around him and the soft, tiny breeze against his sweaty skin. His mind was clouded. With need and filthy desperation. He couldn’t think straight. But if he had coke....

The blue eyed boy took another But as he thought of how desperate he was for a lick of coke, he thought of you. And how you’d be here. If he hadn’t broke you.

After his party, you’d been in a bad place. You’d gotten fucked. Worse than that. You passed out on the floor, mind too wild and full of static with the high of drugs and the haze of every alcohol at the party in your veins.

You’d been to the hospital and been in bed for days after that. You felt beyond horrible. You couldn’t find the strength to get out of bed. You refused to see Rafe. You didn’t want to see anyone. Because you hated yourself. You allowed yourself to get so fucked you were in the hospital. How could you let yourself do that?

But you slowly got better. And clean. You got out of bed. You showered. You saw people who were good influences. Only people who stayed when you fucked up beyond repair. You’d promised yourself you wouldn’t go back to your past. You’d be a new, better Y/N Y/L/N.

So you left Rafe behind.

Lives change like the weather I hope you remember Today is never too late to Be brand new

Rafe had tried so hard. So hard. To be better, be he couldn’t help himself. He need the coke. Like he needed his father’s approval. Like he needed you. But the traps of the drug were too easy to fall into. Too hard to escape from, so he fell back in without skipping a beat.

Rafe was still on the floor when you found him. You hadn’t tried to find him. Hell, you’d gone to see Sarah. But there was Rafe, broken down and sobbing on the floor of his kitchen, completely alone.

You bent down, dropping your stuff and stared wide eyed at the boy before you. The boy who used to touch you and keep his eyes on you. The boy who caused your down fall. “Rafe?” You whispered, the words barely audible.

Rafe blinked, his hearing and mind sharpening. His blue eyes refocused on you.

“Y/N?” He wasn’t even sure he spoke the words, or if you heard him since the words were so broken.

“What the hell happened to you?” You demanded, studying him.

His skin was sweaty and pale. His eyes were unfocused and heavy, tears softly spilling down the side of his face. Rafe’s lips parted to release shallow, uneven breathing. The boy’s usual slicked back hair was in disarray, sticking up at unnatural places, and un-gelled. He looked like shit, to be frank.

“I,” he couldn’t even form a sentence, but somehow you understood.

He was in withdrawal. Rafe needed coke. You breathed a curse, and tried to calm his slight shaking.

“It’s gonna be okay, Rafe.” You assure as you tried to figure out what to do. You were lost. 911? What did you do?

“I’m,” Rafe started, eyes trying so hard to focus on you. “I’m sorry.”

You stopped fussing, going dead still. Of all the things he could say, you didn’t expect him to say that. But you met his pale eyes.

“I was trying,” he took a deep breath. You stayed deathly still, afraid you’d loose this fragile version of the boy you used to know. “I was trying to be better- for you.”

You heart broke. For you. It seemed that fucking you up made him want to be better too.

“It’s okay, Rafe.” You smiled tightly and cupped his cheek. His skin was sweaty and sticky. “Alright? You’re gonna get help. You’ll be okay.”

It's all right, just wait and see Your string of lights are still bright to me Oh, who you are is not where you've been You're still an innocent

You watched as they took Rafe away. The image of the shaking, half breathing boy on his kitchen floor, alone, was seared into your brain. You couldn’t shake it. And his words still rang in your head like bells.

I’m sorry. I was trying to be better. For you.

You closed you eyes quickly, swallowing the lump in your throat. That version of Rafe that said sorry was the same that you spoke to on the Cameron’s yacht that fateful day. Even though you were right about Rafe having a better side, you didn’t feel triumphant. You just felt empty. His state reminded you of the night where you life turned upside down.

I know Rafe. And I’m sorry too.

A/N 2: I hope you liked it (and it was good). I hope I did him and this justice. This was very fun to write and I have more Rafe coming up!!

Tags: @katie-avery @calumbroutledge @drew-starkey @thelocalpogue @ijustreallylovethem @jjmaebank @rretrophilee @obxlife

437 notes · View notes

yume-fanfare · 4 years

Text

Start line

this is the translation of one of the short stories posted to celebrate LIPxLIP’s birthday, you can read it in japanese here. it has been translated from this spanish translation by mieltrabajos

---

“Suzumi-san, why don't you come over to our school?”

It was in her last days of middle school that a Sakuragaoka teacher invited her, told her he was the advisor of the track and field club. At that moment, she was about to go back home, feeling down because she hadn't accomplished the goal she'd set three years earlier: be one of Japan's top 10 athletes.

During middle school, Mr. Yamazaki had taught her about track and field. He was a college professor, but she caught his eye during a race. However, Hiyori had heard that Sakuragaoka was in Tokyo. She didn't quite process it at the time, confused as she was. Studying in Tokyo had never crossed her mind. She thought she'd go to a highschool nearby, just like everyone else.

Hiyori lives in the countryside. There weren't many schools to choose from, and even if they did have entrance exams, most people got in because there simply weren't enough students. For that reason, local public schools didn't have track and field. In fact, most club activities weren't active. And, even if they were, they weren't competitive enough nor had proper teachers. So Hiyori had thought she'd have to give up on running after middle school, it sounded impossible.

Of course I want to keep running. It was what I focused most on my third year of middle school. I loved running more than anything else, it was all that I had. But, Tokyo is too far away. I was told to “think about it” for now, but I still don't know, it's so complicated.

During lunch break, Hiyori slumped over her desk, groaning. Shirakawa Satoe, her best friend and classmate, stared at Hiyori while eating a sandwich.

“What's the matter, Hiyori? Does your stomach hurt from eating too much?”

“Waaaah, Sato-chan, what should I do?”

She held her head in her hands. The week after finishing the club tournaments, Hiyori couldn't do anything but worry about track and field.

Because of this, I feel like my stomach has become very heavy.

Today's lunchbox had two big rice balls and fried shrimp, but she didn't feel like eating.

“Are you still worried about the Tokyo school?”

“I'm worried precisely because it's Tokyo… It's so far away, like on the other side of the world!”

“It'll be fine. You're Hiyori, you'll be able to keep running if you work hard!”

Hiyori shook her head.

“No, it's impossible no matter what!”

“But it's only a couple of hours away by plane, isn't it? And around ten by bus. Maybe it's closer than you think.”

“I don't think I have enough money to fly.”

“True, why is it so hard? If I had money, I'd go to a live in Tokyo or Osaka…”

Hiyori and Satoe sigh.

I wonder if I should give up after all…

She still hadn't talked to her parents about Sakuragaoka yet. Her mom seemed convinced she’d go to a local high school at the last parents-teacher conference.

If I wanted to go to a Tokyo school, Grandma and Grandpa probably wouldn't like it… And Dad will get really mad...

“It's hopeless…” Hiyori said, putting her head on the desk again. “What if I took the exam without permission? If I pass, there would be no going back!”

“... And how would you live in Tokyo?”

Hiyori lifted her head and saw Satoe had crossed her arms.

“That's the problem.”

Paying rent, living expenses and the tuition fees with just a part time job would be really hard. It's not impossible, but Hiyori doesn't think she'd be able to do something like that and track and field. Going to Tokyo would be pointless then.

“But you want to run, right?”

“I do. I've been working as hard as I can and… I haven't given up on being in Japan's top 10.”

“Do you want to be a professional runner in Japan's national team?” Satoe laughed and poked Hiyori's cheek with her chopstick.

“I'm not fit enough for that yet but… I don't want to stop running.”

‘You can run anywhere, you don't have to join a club’. I'm sure that's what my parents would answer. I know. But that depends on each one's determination.

I hadn't thought about going to Tokyo until that teacher appeared with the Sakuragaoka invitation. This wouldn't be happening if that hadn't occurred. That invitation is like Eden’s apple.

“Then, why don’t you take the plunge?”

“You say it like it’s easy!” Hiyori whined.

“Because you want to go, don’t you? It’s written all over your face. You’re easy to read, Hiyori.”

“I don’t think so. Tokyo is… scary. There are lots of people there. I’ll be alone, without any friends… I don’t know the streets or anything, I’ll get lost for sure!”

“But, you’ll be able to make as many friends as you like! You’re Hiyori.”

“But I’ll never be able to make a friend as good as you again, Sato-chan!”

Satoe laughed, shook her head and stood up. Her hair was messy.

“Hearing you say that makes me really happy, Hiyori,” she exclaimed with a booming voice.

“Okay, I've made up my mind! I'll go to the same school as Sato-chan. Never to a different one! It's decided, I'll reject the offer!”

Satoe laughed loudly, full of glee.

But then, her face turned serious.

“But… actually. I want you to go to Tokyo, Hiyori.”

“Eh…?”

“It'd be a waste to stay here in the countryside. I'm sure Tokyo is much more fun.”

“Sato-chan…”

“I want Hiyori to decide herself. Because it's you, Hiyori.”

But what about… us two?

She was confused, but Hiyori mumbled a “yes” as Satoe took out two small packets out of a bag.

“Which one do you choose?” She held up both packets for her and smiled.

They were pockys, a strawberry packet and a lemon one. Hiyori, worried about the hard choice, ends up taking one of each.

“Which is the best one~!” was her answer.

She laughed and bit both of them.

---

When classes finished for the day, she left the school building. The sky was getting more and more cloudy.

High school in Tokyo…

All her life, she'd thought she'd live in her hometown forever. She hadn't even imagined moving away.

But in the end… it's impossible, Sato-chan.

Hiyori looks down at the ground, walking.

Living alone in the city, going to highschool, it all sounded like a surreal future to her. She knew it would be really hard.

No matter how badly she wanted to go.

She heard a cheerful voice coming from the school’s courtyard and stopped walking. The members of the baseball and track and field clubs were practicing on their own. Hiyori and her friends had to retire, since their three years of middle school were over and they were about to graduate. Just a few days ago, though, they also had practice like that. As soon as classes were over, Hiyori remembered, she would change clothes as fast as she could to go to practice.

“It was fun…” The words left her mouth without noticing.

She was completely absorbed looking at the practice, imagining herself with the underclassmen.

Even if she had studied at a local middle school, those three years had been full of fun things. Laughing with her friends, the ones who would go to high school with her if she stayed in the countryside, without the anxiety of having to meet new people.

I know, but my heart yearns for somewhere else.

She was unable to forget her wish to study in Tokyo.

In Sakuragaoka there would be a track and field club and a teacher who would properly guide her. And she’d be able to keep running.

There’s also the want for a nice city environment. There will be a lot of things in Tokyo that I don’t have here. I’ll probably be able to do a lot of things I don’t have here.

Even if Hiyori thought it was impossible, thinking of a new world yet to explore made her excited.

I wonder if I can make it…

For that reason, she had lots of obstacles to overcome. Like convincing her parents.

“Oh, Suzumi-senpai!” A boy noticed her and waved his arms in the air exaggeratedly.

Hiyori walked towards the courtyard where the track and field club members were.

“Suzumi-senpai, are you going home already? Let’s practice together!”

“I’m retired now.” Hiyori laughed, a bit sad.

“Huhhhh,” the boy complained. “Then just watch our practice! Like one of the retired professionals!

“Hum… I wonder if I can run one last lap...” Hiyori brought a hand to her chin, deep in thought.

It really would be her last race in middle school.

“Great! Okay, then I’ll time you!” a second year student exclaimed, holding a stopwatch. Some other club members offered to measure the distance.

Hiyori stood at the starting line and breathed in deeply while looking at the finish line. There, the boy was holding the stopwatch, while the other students observed the race from the side benches.

Hiyori hadn’t brought her gym clothes or a T-shirt, so she still wore the school uniform.

She kneeled on the ground and looked ahead.

Her heart began to race.

The whistle blew and Hiyori lunged forward.

Now, I’m still completely happy.

I have all my friends and classmates. My mom’s meals and lunchboxes are delicious. My grandpa secretly gave me an allowance and my grandma is really good at sewing; this year she made a new yukata for me. And my dad takes me fishing sometimes,

I’m sure I’ll have fun every day here.

If she went to the city, she was sure she’d be alone every day. Living alone would be much harder than she could imagine. She wouldn’t have friends or acquaintances. She knew she wouldn’t be able to get along with everyone at a high school in Tokyo. People might laugh at her and she’d be embarrassed.

But…

There surely was a much bigger world she didn’t know about.

After crossing the finish line, Hiyori breathed in deeply and looked up to the sky. The sun shone softly between the clouds.

Maybe I shouldn’t give up before trying…

---

During the holidays, Hiyori met with Satoe in the lakeside park where they used to play. The lake’s surface was dyed in the sunset’s colors, the wind making small ripples in the water.

They sat on a bench and Hiyori spoke up.

“Um, Sato-chan.”

“Yes, yes, I see.” Satoe crossed her arms and nodded, telling her to go on.

“I haven’t said anything yet!” Hiyori exclaimed, confused.

Satoe smiled at her.

“Yes, but I already know what you want to say, it’s written all over your face. You’ve decided to go to Tokyo, right?”

Hiyori felt her eyes begin to water and she quickly rubbed them.

Of course she knew, they were best friends. Or maybe Hiyori was just that easy to read?

“I’m sorry... Sato-chan, I do really want to go to the same high school as you!”

Hiyori felt like she was betraying someone and that made her heart ache. Hiyori wanted to go away, but Satoe grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the bench.

“I see… but, that’s no good! I won’t let you!”

“Satoe…”

“Because, Hiyori, if you go to that school, you’ll have lots of fun and forget about us!”

“I would never do that. You’re my best friend, Sato-chan, no one else. I’ll contact you every day!”

“... Or so you say, but what if you get a boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?!” Hiyori exclaimed, waving her hands. “Impossible! That won’t happen!”

“You’ll go to the city, you don’t know. Maybe you’ll meet a handsome guy, what will happen if he takes over all your free time?!”

“Eh, uh, aaahhhh, what should I… I don’t know…?”

Hiyori felt trapped, but her voice was calmer than before. She pressed her index fingers together nervous.

“After all we've been through, Hiyori will choose love over our friendship! As if everything so far had been a game!” Satoe covered her face with her hands.

“That's not true! All my feelings are about Sato-chan! I'd never do something like that!” Hiyori said very seriously, with a hand on her chest.

Satoe peeked at her through her fingers. Then, she put her hands down and broke out laughing, she couldn't hold it in anymore. Hiyori started laughing too and so they both laughed together till their stomachs hurt. Hiyori even started tearing up a bit, but wiped the tears quickly.

In that same place, she used to sit with Satoe and talk until the sun set. During elementary school, whenever she felt down because she couldn't place high during the tournaments, she'd sit here and cry with Satoe. She had thought they’d be together the next year, and the following one.

She felt lost. She’d been so worried about making a decision.

Their laughs quieted down and Hiyori felt sad again. Her shoulders dropped.

“Sato-chan…”

“Do your best, Hiyori. Don’t lose yourself.”

“Yes…”

“Hiyori, it’s fine. You’re strong.”

“I don’t think so…”

“You can survive till the end in any dangerous environment.”

“Yes… I won’t lose! No matter what!

“And I won’t lose my position as your best friend to anyone!”

“Yes… I won’t have a different best friend ever!”

“If you ever get a boyfriend, send me the first picture you take! You have to!”

“I’m sure… I don’t think I can!”

Hiyori and Satoe met each other’s eyes before bursting into tears.

“Hiyori…”

“Sato-chan!”

“Well, if that happens, then let’s eat a lot of sweets today! Let’s hang out!”

As she talked, Satoe opened her backpack and turned it outside down. Some packets with sweets fell out of it onto her knees, the same ones they had eaten the other day, lemon and strawberry pockys.

“Wow, Sato-chan, why did you buy so many?!”

“You see… if I collect 10 tickets I might win a signed poster! From these two…” Satoe said with a very serious face, clenching her fist tightly.

Then, she held both of Hiyori’s hands.

“Help me eat them… I have to eat and eat. Like an infinite strawberry-lemon loop! I bought an entire box with my pocket money. I really want the poster!”

“Yes but... for a signed poster?”

“Hiyori, which one do you want? You can choose as many as you like!”

“The chocolate-banana ones are better…”

“There weren’t tickets on those though…”

They both opened the packets and began eating. The sunset shone over the lake’s edge.

---

Next spring was graduation.

Hiyori went to the courtyard when the ceremony was finished. The place where she had trained for so long.

“Thank you so much…” she whispered.

In that moment, she heard Satoe call out to her. Other track and field club members were running there too, everyone came.

“I’m glad I made it on time!”

“Sato-chan… what are you guys doing here?”

“Hiyori, you’re leaving for Tokyo tomorrow… so this is our farewell!!”

Satoe gave her a white box with a ribbon. Hiyori, confused, untied it and opened the box. A brand new pair of shoes.

“Umm…” Hiyori’s eyes were wide open as she looked at everyone, amazed.

“Because you’re the star of the track and field club!”

“Please, don’t forget about us!”

“Call me some time!”

Surrounded by exclamations and shy laughter, Hiyori felt her eyes water and she pressed the back of her hand against them. Her chest was full of words she couldn’t pronounce.

“Oh, don’t cry! We’re holding our tears in!”

“Sato-chan, guys… Thank you! I’m glad I was able to run with all of you and join the track and field club.”

“Hiyori…! Someday I’ll go to Tokyo with my pocket money! I’ll go meet Yuujirou and Aizou!” Satoe hugged her tightly as she cried.

“Who are those guys?! You won’t be with me?!”

“Of course, I’ll go meet Hiyori. I’ll pull an all-nighter and we’ll go watch a live!”

“Oh, I see. I’ll be waiting for you! But I don’t know what live are you talking about.”

Wiping their tears and changing them for a smile, everyone hugged Hiyori.

A place she didn’t know. People she didn’t know. But she was sure there would be new encounters. She would be brave and take off running.

Of course, I’ll do my best.

“Guys… I’m off!”

#honeyworks #suzumi hiyori #HERE WE GO #this story............... i love her sm #hworks #mar's translations #hw links

36 notes · View notes

melodiesofblueroses · 4 years

Text

𝘚𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘈𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘺

♡ ━ Sanrio Boys, Headcanons

»»————————-　♡　————————-««

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Kouta Hasegawa x reader, Yuu Mizuno x reader, Shunsuke Yoshino x reader, Ryo Nishimiya x reader, Seiichiro Minamoto x reader

𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: Fluff

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: Ways the sanrio boys show affection towards their s/o

𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘶𝘱: gn!reader

»»————-　♡　————-««

�� Kouta Hasegawa

adores hand holding

he must have your hand in his at all times, whether the two of you were out on a date or just hanging out in his room

it’s practically an unwritten rule in your relationship

Kouta didn’t know why, but your warmth and touch comforted him so much, especially when his insecurities popped up from time to time

it was just a small reminder to him that you will always be by his side, through thick and thin, no matter who he was as a person

your constant presence and support helped ease his worries and made him a bit more confident too

this habit of his wouldn’t happen until a few months into the relationship, once everything’s been settled in, and Kouta got a feel for being a loving boyfriend

he was always a shy bean, so he would try to subtly slip his hand into yours

it was always when you weren’t looking, and when you finally took notice, Kouta couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye since it was just so embarrassing

also didn’t want you to see the massive blush on his face

thought you might find it annoying at first, but you reassure him that you in fact love it just as much as he does

he also loves cuddling, especially on rainy and/or sluggish days

some of his favorite memories is of you guys cuddling while watching some sort of movie or show and all was quiet except for the pitter patter of the rain outside

it was just so soft and wholesome and made his heart skip a beat

(yes you guys hold hands while cuddling)

»»————-　♡　————-««

♡ Yuu Mizuno

he always seems to have his hands on you

whether it’s hugs from the back or side tickles or just constant pokes and jabs, Yuu loved to touch you

it was a bit excessive at times, yes, but you knew that this was just how he showed his love

if you tell him to tone it down a bit, however, he’ll oblige no problem. anything for his dear after all

weirdly enough, hand holding wasn’t all that common despite all the physical contact. Instead, Yuu usually clung to your arm like a little child, but it was cute in its own way

Yuu also loves gifting all kinds of sweets to you, so you could expect a handful of lollipops, gumdrops, pocky, and more multiple times throughout the day

they made for great snacks in between classes though, so you were often thankful for your doting boyfriend, though sweets everyday wasn’t exactly the healthiest choice

he always seemed to be eating some sort of sweet whenever you met up with him, namely lollipops, so naturally, he’d throw some on you as well

“Hey hey y/n ~” he would chirp then just dump a few handfuls of candy on your hand that somehow fit into his pocket

“Yuu, you don’t have to always give me sweets you know. It isn’t that good for us anyway”

“aww do you not like my gifts?” he would ask, followed by a pout that just made you feel guilty so that you had no choice but to accept them

i mean, how could you possibly turn him down with a cute face like that?

»»————-　♡　————-««

♬ Shunsuke Yoshino

every year, without fail, Shunsuke would always give you a hello kitty good luck charm

after all, Shunsuke wasn’t the greatest when it came to expressing his emotions, so what better way than sharing his goddess of victory with someone he adored

while to everyone else it was nothing more than another silly gift, you knew the meaning behind the charms

the first charm he ever received as a child was gifted to him by someone special, thus he thought of them as something that held significance

to him, giving you the charm showed that he truly loved and cherished you as well as wished for nothing but the best

of course you accepted his gifts with no explanation

besides, you wouldn’t want to embarrass him when he was already blushing profusely

besides the annual charms, Shunsuke isn’t the one to really show affection

there might be hand holding here and there as well as the usual acts of intimacy (kisses, hugs, etc.), but you would be the ones to initiate them

however, that isn’t to say that he doesn’t show any affection at all

one of the things that Shunsuke does is share his food and drinks with you

you guys basically drink from the same cup/bottle, eat from the same plate, and often share lunchboxes with each other

it’s a bit subtle, but it’s also your guys’ way of showing how much you love and care for one another

i mean, you wouldn’t share with just anyone after all

yeah it may be the subject of Yuu’s teasing and whatnot, but Shunsuke always acted nonchalant about it, as if it was a perfectly natural thing to do (and it was) which always comforted you if you ever felt embarrassed about it

although he may not be the most affectionate person, you were able to crack down on Shunsuke’s cold and stoic exterior to reveal someone who was quite a softie

»»————-　♡　————-««

✿ Ryo Nishimiya

with Ryo being on the library comittee and all, he would read a ton of books

of course, this meant that he would always give you books that he would recommend or ones that he thought you would enjoy

Ryo just wants to see you happy after all

even if you didn’t enjoy a particular book he gave you (more like shoved at you), you would feign a smile and say that you enjoyed it very much

it wouldn’t be much of a lie, however, since you did love the fact that Ryo thought of you. it was just a sweet and cute sentiment, and you couldn’t bring yourself to break him

besides, you knew how much of a tsundere he could be

likewise, if you came across any books you thought he’d enjoy, you’d recommend it to him as well

and, although he wouldn’t admit it, he always read the books you talked about, whether it was up his alley or not

just the fact that you thought of him while reading it made him all soft and mushy and ew feelings

but,,loving you was worth it

another thing Ryo loved to do was to check up on you

when Seiichiro fainted that one time due to overworking himself, Ryo was terrified at the thought of the same thing happening to you

he wouldn’t be able to stand it if something were to happen to you

thus, expect a ton of spa days and tea parties and whatnot

“y/nn, you’ve been working a lot. Come to my house after school.”

“but finals are next week?”

“no buts!”

more often than not you found yourself sitting on his bed, face mask and pajamas on, while he painted your nails or snacked on macarons with you

it was rather nice and quiet, and you did enjoy spending time with Ryo

Ryo just always wanted you to be happy and comfortable

»»————-　♡　————-««

✦ Seiichiro Minamoto

cuddling

lots and lots of it

since Seiichiro is student council president, archery club captain, and valedictorian, between juggling all his responsibilities, he really didn’t spend a lot of time with you

but, after a stressful day filled with endless paperwork from the student council and tiring archery practice, he loved nothing more than to spend time alone with you

and what better way to do that than by cuddling

honestly just loves having feeling your warmth and touch, especially since he didn’t really receive much affection when he was younger

also was a way for him to unwind and let go for a bit before he went to bed for the day

but above all, he really just wants you to know that he deeply cares for and loves you

you were his priority after all

you two also love taking naps together (usually after cuddling), which more often than not ended up turning into sleepovers

there was just something comforting about Seiichiro’s presence, and you loved nothing more than snuggling up against him and falling asleep

also, it allowed you to make sure he wasn’t overworking himself again

when you could, and if you were able to convince Seiichiro (most likely not), you would drag him to nap in the nurse’s office or the student president’s office during breaks

of course, most of the time he would refuse and instead scold you, but when he was visibly tired, you dragged him regardless of his complaints

and honestly, it did allow him to refresh and feel less tired, although he wasn’t too keen on napping during school hours, even if it lunchtime or after school

also, knowing that you were next to him comforted him greatly, and your touch lulled him into a deep sleep

no matter what it was, you two always loved being close to one another, especially since moments were the two of you could hang out without a worry in the world were rare

#sanrio boys #sanrio danshi #kouta hasegawa #yuu mizuno #ryo nishimiya #shunsuke yoshino #headcannons #my first time writing headcannons and for the sanrio boys !!!#im a bit worried on how i portrayed them or how the hcs turned out but i hope alls well #sanrio boys x reader

129 notes · View notes

barschter000 · 3 years

Text

FANGAN CHARACTER DESIGNS YO HOLLER

I have been encouraged to post some of my fangan peeps' appearances and I shall do so with gratitude

Baiko Omori - Ultimate Lucky Student

Fitting his talent, Baiko looks average. His skin is tan from working in the sun and under his clothes, he is built quite wiry. He has an oval face and clean skin. His slim lips are always curved into a mysterious, blank smile and has a small, straight nose; the rest of his facial features are hidden by his bangs. He has rectangular, attentive, deep and soft blue eyes that display his emotions very clearly.

Baiko wears a dark blue turtleneck sweater and a used-looking light brown trench coat with a stand-up collar and big buttons that reaches his knees. Latter belonged to his grandfather. The collar of the turtleneck conceals an old scar across his throat that was stretched as he grew. He wears straight dark brown suit pants and shiny brown business shoes. He also carries a golden pocketwatch around his neck.

Baiko has long, dark brown hair and his slightly-tousled bangs reach over his eyes and up to the middle of the bridge of his nose. His hair dips a little into the collar of his coat, then bends and continues outside of the collar until his waist. He has an ahoge which curls to a square with soft edges.

Ei Hagakure - Ultimate Ghost Whisperer

Ei is a tall and lanky girl. She has dark skin and in her underweight phases, her bone structure becomes visible. She has a long face with half-closed eyes that make her look smug. Ei has three earlobe piercings on each ear. There are a hanging golden star and moon, a glob of green goo, an eyeball, a cartoon ghost, dango-like puffy balls colored gradient purple and a button.

Ei has dark-brown, almost black, frizzly hair that she keeps in two big buns on her head. Strands are falling into her face and framing her jaw. Inside her two buns, she keeps the antennas of her gear. They extend when she is scared.

Ei wears a lab coat that she has dyed pink. The symbol of her university is printed on the coat's lapel. Under her coat, she wears a loose t-shirt with a light-blue and yellow batik design that is stuffed in her pants. Her sweatpants-like pants are dark purple with a sand-colored strap and (the area on the end of a sweatpants where it tightens around the leg).

Ei's ghost detection device hangs around her neck. It is a vintage lunchbox with a surreal motto on it. One side is filled with a monitor, the other with three speed-indicator-like displays and a foldable keyboard.

Etsuya Iwata - Ultimate Opera Singer

Etsuya has an average body build and a slim face. He wears make-up, dark lilac-blue eyeshadow and thick eyeliner. He also added an artificial beauty mark above his upper lip. Etsuya has brown, rectangular eyes, so dark that they seem black.

As for clothing, Etsuya wears a mix of costumes for his roles. He wears a white loose shirt which is stuffed inside a dark red long and wide skirt with a golden vine pattern. A golden, glittery matador jacket is draped over his shoulders. A tag saying “Prop for: Etsuya Iwata'' is attached to its collar. Additionally, he wears dark brown slippers.

He has blond hair and styles it to round, big curls into a ponytail. A rose is tucked behind his ear.

(Etsuya is kinda just entirely based on the opera "Carmen" aksjjs)

Hideaki Yukiyama - Ultimate Mathematician

Hideaki is a small, thin boy. He has a round face and big, circular bright green eyes. He has a button nose and is usually seen with a wide grin. Hideaki styles his red hair to part in the middle and stick to the side like a clown or an owl.

Hideaki’s daily attire consists of a button-up shirt that looks three sizes too big for his frame, shorts and mid-calf high socks. The shirt is half black and half white, the black part is made out of velvet and has arithmetic operators in all colors and sizes on them. A cheap squirting prank flower is attached to the collar. His socks are green and red striped. His shorts and shoes are part of the uniform of his boarding school, his shorts are therefore strictly gray and straight and his shoes neatly shiny black.

(tbh I'm not satisfied with Hideaki's design yet. His early design was way too bright and chaotic but this one is kinda.... too dark and gray when I imagine Hideaki? I can recolor the shirt in also green/red but I fear that that's too much on the eye??? Idk man I'm an absolute fashion disaster and so is Hideaki am9sjehe)

Ichini - Ultimate Robotics Engineer

To be honest, I have a vision of Ichini but I don't have details since I haven't really done much with robots before. What I know that Ichini is absolutely massive and mostly uses angled shapes. Xe is a robot from the neck down. Xe has square, bulging shoulders, thick arms and giant hands. Instead of feet, xe just has flat metal clumps. In general, xe is very unproportional, wide torso, slim hips, short legs, also considering that xir head is still human and way too small for the rest of xir body. Xir hair is jet black with a cyan stripe, it's styled into one giant spike or multiple spikes that stand up from the back of xir head.

Jun Nagao - Ultimate Escapologist

Jun is of nearly average build, just a little thinner and smaller. His complexion is sickly. He has a round face. Due to his facioplegia, his expression is always stern, almost annoyed. His thin, straight eyebrows, slim lips and empty, light-gray eyes play a role in that. His brown hair is shaven. At the back of his head is a bald spot where the weapon hit that knocked him unconscious.

(The same weapon (probably a bat, a pipe or a baton) caused his head injury that lead to the paralysis of his face. It was the first abduction incident.)

He wears a long-sleeve shirt which is a bit oversized and of a yellow that almost seems dirty. The sleeves end in black leather and have a leather strip with a small buckle attached to them. The leather ends are folded up as not to hinder Jun's hands. The sleeves can be fixated like a straitjacket like a belt on several points on his chest and back, the other straps lined up in two rows like trench coat buttons. The leather looks used.

His tight pants are black and gray striped, horizontally but swirling down his legs. They're held up by an old brown leather belt with metal-rimmed holes on the entirety of it. On each belt loop hangs a different type of lock. Jun wears a chain around his neck like a necklace. The keys hanging from the chain fit the locks on his hip. In between the keys, two bobby pins can also be found.

He wears clunky-looking black boots that reach a little over his ankle, so that the ends of his pant legs disappear in the shoe. The black and yellow shoelaces are tied strangely and differently on each boot.

Kaida Tsutsumi - Ultimate Stock Broker

Kaida is small for her age and has inherited the classic looks of her family: slim, blonde hair and semi-rimless glasses. Her hair is cropped short and parted to a formal side parting. Her clothes are very formal as well: She wears a full, dark green suit, a white shirt and a tie that is held in place by a silver tie pin.

(Hm, I feel like Kaida needs more details in her designs and I really don't know what since they gotta relate to her talent somewhat.)

Kyo Kido - Ultimate Horror Author

Kyo is tall but his bent posture decreases his height. Though he is lanky, he has broad shoulders that don't quite fit him.

Kyo has a long face with slim features and high cheekbones. There are dark circles from tiredness under his white eyes. His hair is straight and dark blue; one side of his head is shaven, the other grown out to his shoulder.

He wears very casual clothing, a black t-shirt with a grey skull on the breast pocket stuffed into black ripped jeans, and worn, dirty white sneakers. Over the t-shirt, he wears a blue checkered flannel shirt. The t-shirt and jeans have strange red stains on them.

(idk if I'll add that as "OfFicIaL" but I just had the most random thought, what if the stains were soup stains that didn't wash out and that's why he doesn't like soup kjwjeheehe, everyone is like "Oh my God, that's probably blood on his clothes, eek, that's so creepy!" and Kyo is just standing there with his soup stains)

Maxis von Läuterbach - Ultimate Knight

Maxis is tall and wiry, however, seems slender. Because they are half-German, half-Novoselic, their complexion is accordingly Caucasian. They have yellow eyes with slits which makes them look dragon-like. They also have a big hawk nose and slim lips. Their hair is of a rather dirty blond, reaches to their chin and is parted in the middle. A golden circlet is placed on their brow.

Maxis' outfit is inspired by German medieval fashion and is mostly in blue and green. They wear a light blue tunic with a damask pattern and a golden belt where they keep their sheathed sword, a long cape, tight leggins, and loose brown leather boots.

(For reference, I searched up some medieval clothing, found this and took inspiration from the guy with the green cape in the bottom right corner. Fun fact, that guy is labeled with "Fürst" which translates to "prince", so yeah even in their clothing, Maxis goes full "You have reached the house of unrecognized talent.")

Miyoko Iwata - Ultimate DJ

Miyoko dresses in loose, mostly white clothing that is splattered with neon green, blue, yellow and pink paint. Her outfit consists of an old jeans jacket, a loose top, and wide ripped pants. She has styled her white hair into many independent ponytails. Most of her face, meaning half of her forehead, her eyes, and half of her cheeks, are covered by her visor. It is a black display with a white rim that displays kaomoji-like eyes in correspondence to her current mood. She has brightly painted nails.

(Yeah, Miyoko just goes >o<. Also when she is so utterly disappointed by something that she doesn't even have words for it, I imagine her visor just displays "......" Also I may or may not have stolen that visor idea and design from Godot from Ace Attorney but yeah, I did.)

Rokuro Nakatani - Ultimate Fraud

Rokuro has a slim, femininely shaped body and a chiseled face. He has slick black hair, one strand is falling into his face. In the style of a true con man, he wears a black suit without a tie and a long coat with a fur collar over his shoulders. His eyes are colored like emeralds and there is always a smug smile on his thin lips. Rokuro wears elaborate earrings and a myriad of big rings with gemstones set in them.

Shiori Ishimaru-Owada - Ultimate Team Captain

Shiori is tall and is built athletically, so she has broad shoulders and is decently muscular. She has an angular face, round eyes and short bushy eyebrows. Her eye color is a sort of pinkish. She has thin faded cut scars on her entire face. Her hair is brown-blackish, sorta shaggy and tamed into the stump of a ponytail. Bangs still fall in her face.

Shiori is dressed according to her talent and mostly in the colors of her ice hockey team: blue and orange. She wears a training jacket with the name of her team on the front and her surname and her number, 11, on the back, orange sport shorts which expose her toned legs, blue sneakers and a simple white shirt.

In addition, she has an elastic sport bandage around her left ankle and blue boxing bandages around her wrists and palms.

Tamae Shiroma - Ultimate Whistleblower

Tamae is a small, chubby girl. She is snuggled into comfortable clothing: a dark blue hoodie, black sweatpants and sneakers. She mostly wears her hood up and under it, a baseball cap that she can pull into her face to hide it. Under her cap, some of her locks spring out onto her forehead. Her hair is dyed lightly purple and she has an undercut at whose sides the dye is fading and her natural hair color, black, is coming through. Most of her hair is hidden under her cap though.

She has a round face, a big nose and squinting ink-black eyes. Her eyebrows aren't dyed and bushy and slightly bent upwards.

#fanganronpa #fangan #fangan oc

9 notes · View notes

tarithenurse · 4 years

Text

Nightingale - 22

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Hatake Kakashi &/x Fem!OC Contents: More good stuff. And some serious. A/N: Sorta got the job! As in: not the steady contract but they arranged a 1year temp so I can get more experience (that was the only reason I didn’t get the full). Anyhoodles, might explain more in a separate post when I get home from my grandma’s funeral. As usual, ASK or REBLOG for tag!

Ch. 22

Darkness has fallen over Konoha, but this time the early night walk leads Kakashi and his mystery woman ambling down the streets towards the housing reserved for the jōnin and higher-ups who haven’t got their own real estate.

Apparently, Uguisu has been more or less ordered to live in an apartment there and her own reasoning is, as she’s explaining, that it’ll be easier to keep an eye on her. “That way...there’s no need to have anyone assigned to follow me 24/7, like Mitarashi...”

Makes sense – both the arrangement and the fact it’s Anko keeping an eye on things right now. “Is she’s gonna be your warden?”

“I dunno...” They’ve reached the complex on the Academy grounds and she takes the lead up the stairs towards her new home. “I suppose I’ll find out tomorrow if it hasn’t decided already...”

Leaving the staircase and coming to a halt, Kakashi realizes it’s an apartment wedged in between the homes of fellow jōnin. That’s not a coincidence. Handing the stack of books over to free her hands, Uguisu procures a key, unlocks and opens the door, but then holds out her arms for the borrowed goods in a clear but polite hint that he’s not invited inside. Can’t blame you. It gnaws inside him nonetheless, even if the jōnin doesn’t show the concern – he would much have preferred to make sure everything was as it should be indoors before leaving her alone.

“Well,” he nods resolutely, “if you need anything...”

She looks small and sickly in the unnatural light of the outdoor lamp. Dark bags under her eyes are suddenly prominent, the less than completely sincere smile unable of pushing away the grim demeanour. Still...there’s also an air of something calm about the woman. She’s hopeful, and that warms Kakashi’s heart.

“Thank you,” she hums.

He waits til she has closed the door. No footsteps? Perhaps she remains standing just on the other side of that barrier, perhaps it’s just the hopeless imagination of a man in trouble, either way he has to force his legs into action or he would have stayed there the entire night.

...

Among the shinobi comrades, Kakashi is often equalled with tardiness. He knows this. It's never his intention to be late and he always gets up and gets ready in time, but there's one stop he has to make at some point during the day and once there...old friends are hard to say goodbye to. All that remains of them is a memorial build in their (and many others') honour and visiting the site somehow detaches the living from time while granting them a brief respite surrounded by memories. Sometimes the faces of old are smiling. Often, though, the emptiness they've left behind is tainted by bitterness at the evil that stole these people away too soon.

Today was different. This morning, the white-haired jōnin lingered for no more than five minutes before hurrying off to see to his students because he was adamant, the day's training must be finished before the Recruits' classes ended. Needless to say, Team 7 greeted him with stunned silence as they arrived later than their sensei and none of them opposed the day's curriculum either.

"Who is she? Really?"

Kakashi glances over at the black-haired boy who's sitting in the grass with the lunchbox open. "You mean Uguisu."

The two other (yes, even Naruto) stop eating, favouring instead to listen and hopefully have their curiosity satisfied. There's no doubt they will take matters into their own hands and dig around if the many questions aren't answered soon, but...it's not my place to tell anyone and they have no reason to know. Turning the page of his favourite Icha Icha volume, the senior considers his options which could be better because, truth be told, even if Kakashi technically knows more than them, what he can tell will only lead to more speculation. He had hoped for news this morning only to be disappointed at the slow decision making. And the woman at the centre of the uncertainty? She'd left early for class.

"As I said yesterday," he mutters, "she's a friend from far away. She'll be staying here in Konoha and...maybe become one of our shinobi."

Oh yes, the kids are itching to find out more.

"Why does she have to do Academy classes?"

Sasuke is the one to answer the girl. "The Hidden Villages' schools don't teach the same things. If she's from somewhere with a very different choice of subjects then she might not have learned the things we take for granted. Right?" The last part is addressed to Kakashi who merely nods in agreement.

"What was her name?" Naruto has never had a great memory – a trait generally vital to ninjas.

"Minami Uguisu." And it fits her too. "Well! Better get back to work. How's it looking?"

They've been testing out a variety of knots and other rope-works. Some with better results than others.

...

Soon, the open area in front of the Academy will be swarming with kids as they flee from the last lesson of the day either to play or return home, but right now the only sign of life is Hayase about 20 meters up in the tree with his legs dangling lazily.

"Bird watching?" Kakashi calls out to him.

The chunin nods. "And revisiting the boring days from when I was little." He does look like someone who was half asleep only a moment ago – or at least wishing he had been.

"Gonna take her off your hands the rest of the day." Already walking through the front doors, whatever the assigned shadow says remains unheard.

Some of the little students acknowledge Kakashi as they rush past him on their way to freedom once more bu thankfully it isn’t long before the path is clear and the jōnin can enter the classroom without fear of toppling anyone over. Only two people are left: Iruka who’s gathering a wad of papers that probably are assignments, and the blue-haired girl that’s been haunting him regardless of being asleep or awake.

“Ah, I see they got a hold of you,” Iruka smiles at his friend who doesn’t admit he hasn’t been contacted, “that’s good! It seems my work with Uguisu’s gonna be fairly easy.”

The woman in question has joined the two men at the teacher’s dais, her arms laden with the borrowed books and a few pencils. Today, she’s tucked her hair into a messy bun which allows a peek at the curve of her neck. Pretty. It’s hard for Kakashi to focus, but he fights his attention back to the words flowing from the teacher.

“There are...some areas we need to cover, but none connected to the theoretical works of a shinobi.”

“What he means,” Uguisu smiles, “is that I’m a disaster when it comes to math or history, for example.”

Oh? Watching a blush grow and fade rapidly on Iruka’s face, some corner of the white-haired jōnin's guts tighten in protest before the brain catches up with excuses or explanations – all of which are necessary as he hasn’t been able to ignore the distance the woman keeps between her and anyone else. Including him. Less than 48 hours ago, he’d been kissing her, feeling her reciprocate and making his heart sing...then the dream ended and a nightmare unfolded, and now she’s pulled away.

“Well, that’s quickly fixed,” Iruka promises, “however!” He turns to fully to Kakashi at this, slapping a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “As her warden, I hope you’ll remind her to hand in the written assignments regardless of their simplicity and ensure she’s capable of applying theory to the practical training you’ll be overseeing.”

I’m her...? YES! None would have known how happy the revelation makes Kakashi just like they would be ignorant of the fact that he, until this moment, had had no clue of his role in the relation to Uguisu’s potential as a Leaf Shinobi going forward.

“Hai, I’ll keep her busy with studying,” the warden nods.

18 notes · View notes

softest-cinnamon-roll · 5 years

Note

Can I ask for you to write about reddie's height difference? I love your blog and your writing

You sure can! Sorry if it’s not long though - hope you still enjoy it!

* * * * *

When Eddie was younger, elementary school age, he was always the shortest boy in the class. All the other kids towered over him, which made him a target for bullies as they deemed him weak and fragile. Eddie absolutely hated being short, he hated having to stand on a stool to reach the kitchen counter at home, and he hated that he had to stand on his tippy toes to see over the other kids when there was a presentation in class.

The day that Richie Tozier moved into town was both the best and worst day of Eddie’s life. He was eight years old, still short and compact compared to his other classmates when this new boy strolled in, taller than everyone else. He had thick curly hair and wore large glasses that covered his whole face. His teeth were a little big at the front, visible when he smiled and he was so very tall.

Regardless of the crazy look the boy sported, all Eddie’s classmates wanted to be his friend. They would complement his Spiderman lunchbox and ask if they could have one of his cool stickers that his mother had put in there. Eddie just sat at the back of the class, arms crossed and legs swinging between the seat as his legs were too short to be able to reach the floor.

He was so lost in his thoughts that Eddie didn’t even realise the new boy had made his way over to him, until a lollipop was being thrust into his line of vision and he looked up. Richie was staring at him, all smiles and teeth as he bounced on the heels of his feet. “My mommy told me to give this to the person I wanted to be best friends with, and I want to be best friends with you!”

Eddie blinked, not quite believing what he was hearing, “Why do you want to be my friend? I’m so short…” he whispered and Richie had just laughed, plopping himself into the empty seat next to Eddie.

“Mommy says that smaller people have the biggest hearts. So because you are smaller than everyone else, it must mean you love a whole lot more than anyone else here!” Richie grinned. “Which in my opinion, is really cool. So will you be my best friend? I don’t know anyone yet and I really want a friend.”

Suddenly, the worst day of Eddie’s life had transformed into the best of his life and he nodded his head. “Okay. I’ll be your best friend. I’m Eddie.”

“Nice to meet you, Eds. I’m Richie.”

* * * * *

As they got older, Richie continued to grow taller than the rest of the kids in their year and by the time they were seniors in High School, Richie was capped at 6ft. Eddie however, was still short, his height sitting at a small 5ft 2”. Even though he was still the smallest in their year, it didn’t bother seventeen year old Eddie as much as it did eight year old Eddie.

The reason being? Richie was always creating ways to make sure Eddie felt just as tall as the rest of their friends.

Eddie wasn’t sure when it happened, but at some point in their years as friends, his feelings for Richie had developed into something…more than friendly. He wanted Richie’s attention on him all the time, he wanted Richie to make him laugh, to hang out with him and most importantly, he wanted Richie to touch him.

Thanks to Richie’s height, the rest of him was also on the larger scale, including his hands. Richie had massive hands and Eddie wanted to know what it would feel like for those hands to hold his own, for them to cup his cheeks as he leaned in for a kiss. Eddie shook his head, trying to will away any of the thoughts as he walked into the Derry Fair with all his friends close behind him.

The place was already packed with everyone from school, excited over using the stalls and taking part on the rides. Their friends all crowded around one of the stalls, but thanks to his height, he couldn’t really see what was going on, bar the movement of the man behind the stall’s hands. He sighed, taking a step back as bitterness seeped into his bones. Of course this would have been a problem, it always was when it came to things like this.

“Eds! Come here!” Richie called, turning around with a huge grin on his face. He rushed over to Eddie, wrapping a hand around his slender wrist and pulled him back to the stall. “You trust me don’t you?” He asked and Eddie nodded his head. Of course he trusted Richie, he trusted Richie more than he trusted any of his friends. Richie was his best friend, after all. He had no idea what Richie had in mind, but he didn’t expect him to kneel down in front of him.

“Richie what are you doing?” Eddie asked, tilting his head to the side. Luckily, everyone around them were occupied on the fair and not paying any attention to what they were saying or doing. “Get up.”

Richie firmly shook his head, patting his shoulder. “Up you get, Eds. Since you can’t see I’m going to allow you to spend the night on my shoulders. That way you can see everything I can see. You also weigh next to nothing, so it’s really not much of an issue.” He winked and Eddie flushed red.

He was glad that it was dark so no-one could see the redness on his cheeks. The thought of walking around with his thighs around Richie’s neck was not helping in the slightest, but it was also something he wasn’t about to pass up. Therefore, that was how Eddie Kaspbrak ended up walking around the Derry Fair on top of Richie Tozier’s shoulders.

He guessed that being small had its perks. He was small enough to sneak out of his house without his mother seeing him, he was also small enough to help Richie with his pranks when he had to fit into the TV wheelie that would take him to the intercom room. He was also small enough that Richie would let him sit on his lap during Ben’s track meets and well, sit on his shoulders at the Derry Fair, laughing at the odd stares and blushing when Richie squeezed his ankles.

So yeah, maybe Eddie Kaspbrak didn’t hate being the shortest boy in his class after all.

* * * * *

@3tothe1 @anellope @annxmatron @appojoos @are-you-reddie-for-it @atownofeggs @beepbeeprichiellc @bi-bi-richie @billdenbrough @bitchbrak @callmechee @dadbodrichie @derrylosers @disneyfan567 @eddiekaspprak @eds-trashmouth @eduardoandale @girasol-eddie @gloire-celeste @halfway-happy353 @hawkinsbabe @inthebreadbinwrites @itfandomprompts @its-stranger-than-you-think @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @kat-ships-everything @lifesucksheres20bucks @loserslibrary @losers-gotta-stick-together @madi-artist @mars-14 @marsisaplanetyall @moonlightrichie @nancynwheeler @no-she-wasnt-reddie @oldguybones @pattysblum @photoboothreddie @pink-psychic @purplepoisonedgem @queen-sock @ransonelovebot @rebecca-the-queen @reddie-for-anything @reddie-to-cryy @reddieforlove @reddiesetandgo @richietoaster @roobarrtrashmouth @rreddies @s-onora @s-s-georgie @sashadrowned @sedanleystanley @sloppybitchreddie @sparklingrainbowdragon @spirited-marvel @stellarbisexual @studpuffin @takeourpure @that-weird-girls-blog @thegoshdiddlydangdoor @thejadeazalea @thorn-harvester-ven @tinyarmedtrex @tozier-boy @tozierking @toziesque @trashmouthtozierr @twoidiotsinl0ve @ultrapaninibred @vanity190 @violetreddie @virgo-luthie @wilding-throught-thehallways @xandertheundead

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #writing tag

249 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #383

“the big bully try to stick his finger in my chest / try to tell me, tell me he’s the best / i don’t really give a good goddamn ‘cuz i got my lunchbox & i’m armed real well”

Ever had a friend online for a long time without seeing a photo of them? Well yeah. Most of my friends are online, and while I've seen pictures of most at least once or twice, some I still haven't. The last time you threw up, what caused it? It was a side effect of a mood stabilizer I started. Any foods from other countries you would like to try but haven’t yet? I'm sure there's something, idk. Do you think the world would be more peaceful without any religion? Yes. Have you ever had a stalker? No. Does it hurt your feelings when people talk shit about things you love? It makes me self-conscious way more than anything. I start to obsess over whether or not the person things poorly or weirdly of me for liking what I like. I just feel judged for liking it, but that's my problem. Do you like it when people give you nicknames? I do, actually. It feels kinda affectionate to me. Do you often find yourself checking out people’s butts? Haha I'm not gonna say it's never happened, but it's not something I make a habit out of for sure. What fandoms are you in? MEERKAT MANOR IS BACK BAYBEEEE, Markiplier, Silent Hill, Shadow of the Colossus, World of Warcraft, Spyro, Wings of Fire, and lots more, honestly. I'm into a lot of stuff, and I don't love in moderation, haha. Are there any fandoms you used to be in, but left? Yeah, like Supernatural, Good Mythical Morning, or Warriors, but it wasn't out of "I don't like it anymore" or anything, I just drifted away. Anything the fans in your fandoms do that pisses you off? World of Warcraft if particular has one of the most toxic fucking fanbases. There are so many goddamn elitists and people who whine about "boohoo WoW is dying" and "omg this game has been trash since Wrath" and yada yada yada and it's annoying as hell. They always find some shit to complain about. Then Silent Hill... ugh. I think people just hop onto the "the series sux after 1-4" bandwagon to fit in with a certain crowd, but that's not the main thing that annoys me; rather, it's the fact the former main admin of the SH wiki made a fucking joke out of us there. He was clearly having personal issues and made a HUGE and utterly ridiculous deal of Silent Hill 4 having heavy symbolism to the main character being obsessed with the bullshit idea of him being circumcised, and it led to a maaaassive thread of us members trying to talk some damn sense into him as he abused his power. He was finally banned by the Wikia staff, but not in time for some gaming websites to publish "news" stories about it because it was just that ludicrous. Now, YEARS later, we still get trolls coming onto the site to try and revive the drama by inserting absolute rubbish into pages or making new ones. Nowadays I'm the main administrator there, and it's fucking embarrassing sometimes. I'm supposed to keep the wiki under control and respected, you know? Ugh, I'll stop. I could rant for a very long time about this. Do you prefer ruffly or regular potato chips? Ruffly. Do you write down your own recipes, or just commit them to memory? I don’t cook. What color do you want to dye your hair? My top three are pastel pink, lilac, and a light creamsicle orange. I REALLY want to dye it SOMETHING. :( How do you like your chicken? Of course breaded (like nuggets, tenders) is my favorite, but I also enjoy is broiled and seasoned well. There's other ways, but because I don't cook, I, uh... don't know how a lot are made lmao. Do you enjoy cheese fries? UUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHH YES. Do you eat refried beans? I absolutely hate beans, so no. What is a food you enjoy, but don’t have very often? A whole lot because a lot of it is from restaurants and we don't eat out all that much. As well, my diet is very narrow just because of how picky I am. Marilyn Monroe or Audrey Hepburn? Why? I mean, what are we comparing them for? I think Audrey is fucking gorgeous, though. Marilyn is also beautiful. Favorite fictional world? Uh, I dunno. Do you use lint rollers often? No. Do you carry pepper spray? No, but I want to. Has your power ever gone out for more than a day? I think so. Other than a dislike button, what’s something you wish Facebook had? Hm, I dunno. What time do your parents normally get home from work? Mom can't work right now, but I think Dad gets off around 5PM. Are you afraid to ask people out on dates? Yep. Do you think it’s better to look for love or let it find you? Both can work, but I definitely prefer to let it find me. I feel that *in general* that usually has better results. Have you ever found yourself worrying about commitment? No. I'm a very committed person romantically. Would you get involved with someone if they had a child already? No. Have you ever had a rash from poison ivy? I don't believe so, no. Do you have any chairs in your bedroom? No. Did you watch Elmo as a child? Some, yeah. Do you know anyone who doesn’t eat meat? I don't think so, off the top of my head. When you throw up, do you cry? No, but I'm a whiner and will also shake from fear because I have such a phobia of vomiting. Doing it totally turns me into a baby. Who was the last person to carry you? I couldn't tell you the last person to full-on carry me, but back when I tore a ligament in my foot, my mom kinda had me lifted when she would help me walk. Is it easy for you to accept loss? Absolutely not. I handle it very, very poorly. Have you done anything sneaky lately? No. Have you ever had a rolling back pack? Yes. Who knows you better than anyone else? My mom, probably. Would you ever want to go to Brazil? Sure, if the opportunity came up. Are there any medical conditions that run in your family? A lot, mostly heart problems. What band has the best guitar solos? Metallica imo. Who is the biggest jerk you've ever met? She was somehow my former best friend. Have you ever swerved off the road to avoid hitting an animal? I've never been in that situation, thankfully. What's a charity you would never donate to? I'm really not familiar enough with charities and their practices to know which ones are sketch or not. Have you ever grown your own herbs? No. Do you have any exes you'd consider dating again? Yes. What were some of your favorite classes you took in high school? Art and German. Mythology was fun, too. Do you know anyone with a profession in law? Yeah, I have a cousin that's a lawyer. Have you ever Googled yourself? Yeah, outta curiosity. What's the shortest amount of time you've had between relationships? Like, two days. Part of the reason I left Girt was because I liked Sara. As a child, what comfort foods did your parents make for you when you were sick with a cold or flu? Chicken noodle soup. What's a movie series where the sequel was better than the original? Ha, for some reason Inspector Gadget came to mind. I guess from mentioning my childhood. I was FUCKING OBSESSED with that movie as a kid. The first one's fine, but I love the second one. Does your car have heated seats? Mom's doesn't. What is the strangest pizza topping you've ever eaten? Nothing strange, really. Describe your hometown. What’s it like there? Small and dangerous. Lots of run-down areas. A gang nearly broke into our house once, if that helps you get the picture. What was the last video game you beat? I replayed Silent Hill 2 forever ago. What did you learn from your last failed relationship? It really just taught me that you need to take care of your own mental health before you can effectively handle another's properly and strike a healthy balance. What country does your favorite band hail from? Britain. What’s something on your to-do list that never actually gets done? Finish decorating my room. -_- Have you ever been really passionate about something but then lost interest? If so, what was it? Good Mythical Morning, I suppose. I used to be OB-SESSED. I still adore Rhett and Link as people, they are fucking wonderful human beings and excellent entertainers, I just drifted away from their content. I don't really know why. Do you sleep with the TV or the radio on? No. What’s the worst thing about being male/female (whichever you are)? Menstrual cycles, I'd say. It affects your mood so much, and as someone who's bipolar, it can be very confusing. I like to know why I'm feeling a certain way. What movie has the best special effects? /shrug How many work hours per week is too much for you? I wouldn't know, I've never really worked long enough to figure this out. Can you remember your first day of school? I think I have the faintest memory of it. I know I was very scared to leave my mom (I had absolutely awful separation anxiety from her) and I MIGHT have cried, but I don't really recall with certainty. Have you ever entered a modelling competition? Would you? No thanks. Did you keep any drawings/stories from when you were younger? Most, no, because the level of cringe is LITERALLY unbearable for me. Do you have a safe? Mom does somewhere. What’s the scariest thing to happen to you so far? The breakup. That night was just fucking terrifying. I was so certain my life was over, like the situation was so, so impossible in my head. What was your last dream about? (or your daydream if you don’t remember) My memory's faint, but I just remember I had a nightmare where a LOT of my bones were totally snapped in half. When was the last time you saw a relative? Excluding my immediate family, I last saw my now-departed grandmother and my uncle a while back at a hotel as they were passing through. Have you ever been in a TV audience? No. Are you in any way close to reaching a personal goal? Not really... Do you prefer crosswords or word searches? Word searches. Do you like making collages? Not really. Do you remember any inside jokes from childhood? No. What would you love to learn to do? Digital art, like drawing on a tablet. Do you prefer monkeys or lemurs? Lemurs. Do you watch movies based on the actors or the movie plot? The plot, 100%. Are you more shy in real life or on the internet? I am WAY more shy irl.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''lunchbox'' by marilyn manson

2 notes · View notes

headoverhiddles · 5 years

Text

Hey There, Demons - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: You, drummer for the Spooky Kids, aka the Dumbass Idiots, decide with the band to go ghost hunting in LA one night after a show. Bad idea for the most part, good idea for the sole reason of finally putting you and Manson together in a dark room. Feelings? What are those?

Notes: Spooky Kids era! I’ve been watching a lot of Buzzfeed Unsolved, so here you go. Also features a bit of Twiggy x Pogo for good measure.

"I don't believe in ghosts."

You toss a napkin at Brian. "Poser." You're all sitting in an airport, waiting for your flight from Jacksonville to Los Angeles for a show tonight.

He grins. "Nah. I'm just bullshitting, of course I do. I mean, I've never seen one, other than that whole Necronomicon thing when I was a kid, but half of me thinks that was from drinking bong water.”

“Yeah. Well. Imagination is a beautiful thing."

He licks his lips. "Especially when I'm jacking off."

"Gross," you mutter.

"That's not what you said last night."

"You wish," you huff.

"Cool it you two, we all know you're banging," Pogo calls out, and starts making high pitched moaning noises. You (and everyone else in the band) looks at the keyboardist, wondering if it'd attract even more attention to tape his mouth shut. "Ah! Ah! Ah!”

Jeordie joins in. “Oh, god! Oh, Brian! Yes! What a big dick you have!"

"All the better to fuck you with," Brian plays along. Jeordie climbs into Brian’s lap.

"Stop it, big boy, you're turning me on!"

"I don't sound like that," you mutter.

"Ohhh yeeeeah," Jeordie groans out a climax, and Daisy scoffs, slipping on his sunglasses to avoid the odd stares you're getting.

"I'll have what he's having."

"Unless... Brian is the one taking it," Pogo muses, "That's possible." He drops his voice. "Mmmm. Bette, make me your bitch!"

"Yeah, I just love it when (y/n) gets the strap on out and destroys my ass," Brian grumbles. You blush a little, but hide it under a laugh.

"Again. You wish."

“Am I the only one who finds it very hard to believe (y/n) would put out for Bri?” Jeordie asks. It’s Brian’s turn to toss something at his best friend.

“We all know if she had good taste in men, she’d be fucking me already.”

You hold up three fingers. “Read between the lines.”

You and Brian had been skirting around one another since you had joined the band. You had known Jeordie since working at a crappy part time job at a used record shop with him, and had met the others when Brian had moved to Florida from Ohio, which was a few years ago. They had gotten this band together with another drummer who called himself Sarah Lee Lucas.

Recently, Sarah had left the band to pursue something else, and since banging on things with sticks isn't too hard in your books, you convinced the Spooky Kids to hand you the drumsticks as the newly christened member, Bette Davis x Jeffery Dahmer: Bette Dahmer. It hadn't been easy to convince them to let a girl in, since they’re all a bunch of juvenile assholes, but with Jeordie backing you, eventually they caved.

"Back to the matter at hand," Brian says.

"Hand job," Jeordie giggles, picking a scab off. He pouts as it bleeds.

"Later," Brian quips, standing on a chair. You tug him down before a security guard can do it, and he falls on his ass. "Ow, fuck you."

"That's what anal feels like," you say.

"You would know Bets, you probably take it up the ass from fifty guys at a time, ya fuckin whore," Pogo laughs.

"Stephen, Jesus," Daisy chuckles a little. Pogo has zero filter, and sometimes it's refreshing, sometimes it's annoying. You take your wad of gum out, balling it up, and use your hair elastic to slingshot it right in his face. The guy just picks it up and pops it in his mouth.

"Aw!"

"Ew!"

"You're fucking disgusting, man."

"Eat shit and die." Pogo gives you all the finger, and Jeordie speaks up, laying his head in your lap and stretching out over the airport seats.

"Someone said something about ghosts. I like ghosts. Space ghosts."

"Yes!" Brian brings it back. "Thank you Jeordie, back on track. We are all going ghost hunting tonight, after the show."

"Who died and made you god?" Pogo asks.

"God did," Brian snapped. "And when I'm god everyone dies."

"That's profound, poetry-man," you smirk, crossing your arms, "Got any more emo shit to say before Scott gives every reason why we shouldn't break into some haunted building tonight with video cameras?"

"Who has a video camera?" Jeordie asks, wide eyed, "I wanna see how big my dick looks on screen."

"It looks just like your namesake," Brian says. "Twiggy." Jeordie looks crestfallen.

"It's not that small," you assure him, "It's average, but not small."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'd let you have a go, if you weren’t..." You smirk, alluding to the crush Jeordie had on another band member. He goes red.

"If Brian wasn't already balls deep in that," Pogo chides.

"I bet your dick looks like a pickle," you shoot back, sticking your tongue out.

"Wanna check?"

"Okay," Daisy blushes, standing up, "Just cause we're a band, doesn't mean we need to have an orgy."

"What was the point, then?" you joke.

"Anyway. Like Bette said, I really don't think we should be doing this tonight. If we get arrested for trespassing, what'll that do to the band?"

Brian crosses his arms. "Well I'm the leader, and I say it'd give us a cool reputation!”

"Right. Members of the Marilyn Manson family get arrested for... what, looking for ghosts? What a hardcore group of people.”

"We can tell the press we killed someone. Besides, this is the type of shit we’re supposed to do as a metal band. We gotta do dumb, risky things that make us look like bonified Satanists. Otherwise we’re just posers like the rest of ‘em.”

“No, we just have to go on a couple benders in hotel rooms with some blow and a couple tatted up prostitutes, and we’ll fit in.”

“Look, we can do cocaine off girls’ tits and go ghost hunting and still be rock stars, so shut the fuck up Berkowitz, we're doing it," Brian says. Daisy puts his hands up, unwilling to argue with him any more than he already has. So, it’s settled.

You bump your foot against Brian's, and he gives a lopsided smile, brushing the long black hair out of his face and bumping your foot back. Momentarily, his attention is diverted.

"Will someone go get Jeordie? He's pissing in the water fountain."

You look out at the crowd. This is a bigger audience than usual here in LA.

“Lots of motherfuckers came out to see us,” Bri comes by to whisper at you, parting his hair and making sure his lipstick is nice and smeared. You nod, and toss him his big floppy top hat. He sticks it on his head as you’re introduced.

“All the way from the South Florida music scene, we’ve got Marilyn Manson and the Spooky Kids!”

Jeordie starts the first song, Negative Three, off with a bassline intro, and you start the band off with a four count on your drumsticks, then hit the drums as Brian begins to wail into the mic.

“Give me your blood, your teeth, your high school pictures...”

You watch him, not skipping a beat on your rhythm. Daisy headbangs as you launch into the chorus, and Twiggy fiddles with his bass guitar across the stage, dressed in one of his ragdoll dresses. Pogo is to the right of you, hammering away at his keys and jolting around. You always have a good time performing with the guys, but Brian’s got your attention tonight.

He keeps looking back at you, for some reason.

You almost don’t realize the change in song and the fact that you’d been playing it, and nearly jump when Brian screams into the mic: “I bring you!”

You look away from his shirtless figure, and focus on putting on a good show with them as the crowd moshes in front of you.

After the show, everyone stops back at the motel quickly, drying off and getting changed. You all reconvene after getting into more comfortable clothes, avoid the small group of fans waiting to follow you, and get ready to leave.

“You were great tonight,” Brian says.

“Really? I nearly missed the beginning of Lunchbox,” you huff.

“Nah, I didn’t notice it. If I had, I would’ve yelled at you til you cried.” He gives a shit eating grin.

The Viper Room. The five of you stare at it. The sun has long since set after the show, and you're in front of the LA nightclub with amateur ghost hunting equipment. (AKA, anything you could find at a five and dime store on the sunset strip this late at night).

"River Phoenix died here,” Jeordie mentions.

“And Johnny Depp owns the place," Daisy remarks.

"I know him," Brian says.

"River Phoenix?” Pogo asks, stroking his beard. “Yeah? You climb into his grave often?"

"Depp, I know Johnny Depp."

"If you know Johnny Depp, then Twiggy's Luke Skywalker," Pogo scoffs.

"Like my father before me," Twiggy mumbles.

"No, I know him! I was an extra on his show, 21 Jump Street. He's cool, we're friends."

"Suuuure."

Even Jeordie snickers at that, after emerging from his Star Wars fantasy. "Fuck you guys," Brian mutters, "If Johnny was here right now--"

"Oh, you're on a first name basis, huh?"

"If Johnny was here right now, you fucking clown asshole, he'd say hi Brian, and tell you to go fuck yourself."

"He'd say ‘hi Brian’?" you tease, and he smiles.

"Yes, he would. He's nice."

“Would he like me?”

“Anyone would like you.”

"Does he think this place is haunted?"

"I don't know," the singer hums, "I never asked."

You pick the lock, all enter, and shut the door behind you. It's pitch black, and frankly a little nerve-wracking.

"We shouldn't be here," Daisy sing songs.

"One more word out of you and we're feeding you to the ghosts," Pogo says.

"The same could be said for you," you say to the keyboardist. He shoots a dirty look your way that you can't see through the dark. "I did some reading,” you admit, and everyone turns to you. “Apparently there’s a body buried downstairs, in the crawlspace.”

“Johnny’s a killer,” Jeordie whispers in awe.

“That’s fucking rad,” Brian mutters, “I have even more respect for the guy now.”

“It wasn’t Johnny, don’t say that shit out loud in Hollywood or you’ll get sued,” you say, rolling your eyes. “So aside from the bones, the ghostly activity is downstairs in the basement, the VIP room, and by the bar.”

"I know where I'll be," Jeordie smiles, and walks over to the bar. "Pour me a stiff one River, and don't spare the rum."

Pogo sighs. "C'mon, Daisy. The odd couple are going down to the basement."

"Uh, now I think I should be the one to stay at the bar." Daisy shakes his head. "If Jeordie does, we'll have smashed bottles and cop sirens."

"Fine," Jeordie complains, shoving his red and black dreads out of his face.

“Whatever, dude. It’s just a bunch of bullshit anyway,” Pogo mutters, “It’s like Santa Clause, parents invent ghosts and all that shit to scare kids into behaving themselves, the ever present fascism of the oppressed American youth...” Jeordie follows the ranting keyboardist downstairs, shooting you a desperate look. You just smile, giving a little good luck wave.

“That leaves you and me in the VIP room,” you say, turning to Brian.

“That it does,” he replies, licking his lip ring. “Just don’t try to hold my hand. That’s sick.”

“If you touch me, I’ll scream,” you retort, and walk ahead of him. He admires your ass with the flashlight, and you smile a little.

Downstairs in the basement, Pogo starts banging on the walls.

“Hello! My friends, my ghoulish friends! My... ghoulfriends, if you will. ANYONE WHO’S GOT THEIR BONES BURIED BACK HERE, MAKE A NOISE! Fart or something!” He swings his arms around.

“Did Johnny Depp kill you?” Jeordie asks, eyes wide. He twitches at a car honk outside.

Pogo bounces up and down. “Come attack me, bones! Make me one of you! Come on, murder me and bury me, daddy! I’m into that kinky shit! I am here for the taking!”

“That sounds a little forceful,” Jeordie whispers.

“On my part, or their part?” Silence.

“Good point.”

They keep walking around, and Jeordie trips on something. Pogo keeps banging and yelling obnoxiously. “GOBLINS, GHOULIES, FROM LAST HALLOWEEN! AWAKEN THE SPIRITS WITH YOUR TAMBOR—hey Jeordie, what the fuck are you doing on the ground?”

“I just like the taste of carpet,” Jeordie retorts, sarcasm apparently not evident enough for Pogo to catch it.

“Jesus, what are you on? I want some.”

“Help me up?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the mad clown mutters, and leans down. Jeordie takes his arm, and the two look at each other for a few seconds, the flashlight beneath them illuminating the specks of dust floating through the inch or so between their faces. “Uh...” Pogo whispers, deep voice grumbling.

“Yeah,” Jeordie swallows, and the two stand again, looking away from one another.

Upstairs, you and Brian enter the VIP room.

“Hey there demons, it’s me. Marilyn Manson,” he says, “This is my concubine, Bette Dahmer. Scare us.”

You glare at him. “Actually, scare me. You can just kill him.” The two of you look around with the flashlight a bit, inspecting the dark wallpaper and decor.

“This is kinda spooky,” Brian admits.

“It’s nice,” you say, stroking the dust off a lamp, “Very gothic. I can see why movie stars like this place.”

“Yeah.” Brian turns the flashlight on and off, finally setting it on a small table and letting the beam keep the room dimly lit. “Lots of old Hollywood glamour. You’d fit right in.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you’d look pretty in an old Marilyn Monroe dress. Or at least one of Jeordie’s.”

“What if Marilyn Monroe came here?” you giggle.

“Hey, Mar! Thanks for the name!” Brian calls, “If we get rich and famous, we’ll give you the royalties!” You lounge out on one of the couches, and he eyes you. “You could be sitting on a ghost right now,” he says, “You could have a ghost inside you.”

“Mm?”

“You could be sitting right on his big ghost cock.”

“That’s hot.”

“You could have me inside you too, if you wanted.”

“Y’know, I think we’ve been on the road too long,” you laugh, “Pogo’s jokes are getting to you.”

“It’s not the jokes.”

“Yeah, well. If I’m starting to look hot to you, you must be delirious.”

“Nah... I really do think you’re hot, Bets.”

He sits next to you, and you look over at him. “Seriously?”

He ducks his head. “Yeah.”

“I... feel the same way. I mean, I was never ever gonna tell you, cause soon, with any luck, we’ll be big rock and roll stars, and you-- well, you know how it works. You’ll have a million groupies, you’ll be drowning in free pussy.”

“Fuck the groupies. I want your pussy.”

You laugh. “You say that now.”

“Yeah, I do. Til someone better comes along, which I doubt will happen.” He lifts his eyes to meet yours. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all night. It was weird onstage—usually I can hide it, but tonight... I don’t know. You sitting there, in that top, with your eyes... you were just...” He looks down again, his old shyness coming back. You don’t know what to say. You can only stare at his lips.

Over at the bar, Daisy sits patiently, watching the glass he’s set on a napkin. “Hello, ghosts. It’s me, Scott. You can call me Daisy if you like. If you can hear me, move the cup.”

He stares at the cup. The cup does not move.

Downstairs, Pogo and Twiggy are awkwardly trying to continue their ghost hunt without talking about the moment they just had.

“So, uh, so ghoulies. Where ya from?” Pogo shouts. “Is SATAN in the room with us? We are BIG FANS, sir.” Jeordie starts giggling about something. “What is it?!”

“I just heard a bang above us.”

“That means the demons have come out to play, Jeordie-boy!” Pogo cackles, hopping up on a booth seat and drumming the ceiling.

“No. It means Bette and Manson are screwing around,” Twigs laughs. Then his face gets dead serious. “What if, uh...”

“What if what?” Pogo glances over suspiciously.

“What if... they weren’t the only ones?”

You gasp, standing up and staring at the shattered lamp that had just fallen off the table. “Oh my god. That wasn’t me.”

“Wasn’t me.”

“They’re totally gonna think we’re screwing around up here.”

“Maybe we are,” Brian gets up too, tucking his hair behind his ear.

“Y-you wanna?” you back up. He nods, and falls on top of you on the other couch.

At the bar, Daisy sits, staring at the cup. He patters his fingers on his knees. “It’s okay, ghosts,” he says, smiling politely, “I can wait.”

He stares at it some more. The cup does not move.

In the room, you reach your hand up Brian’s back underneath his black t-shirt. “Fuck, I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Shut up and take my pants off.”

“Don’t tell me to shut up. Take your own pants o... ohhh, god, yeah.” Brian reaches up to massage your breasts, and you throw your head back, undoing his fly. “How long have you wanted to do this?”

“Since the day I walked into the dumb record shop and stole that David Bowie EP.”

“What the fuck?! I got fired for that!”

Downstairs, Pogo runs a hand over his smooth bald head. “I don’t know, man. This sounds very gay to me.”

“I mean,” Jeordie scuffs his shoe on the ground, “It doesn’t have to be. Or like, it could be. If you’re cool with that.”

“If I’m cool with being a homo?”

“...Yeah.”

Pogo looks up at Jeordie, and sighs. “For you?” He glances around the dark, creepy basement, then back to the bassist. “I could be cool with that.”

Daisy changes tactics. “Here. Don’t like moving cups? That’s okay, neither do I sometimes. Let’s try this again.” He smiles. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, god... Brian!” you moan from the VIP room.

“Br... Brian!” Daisy says, excitedly, standing up. “You have the same name as my friend! Oh god... okay, um... how did you die, Brian?”

“Get inside me,” you groan, and Brian takes his boxers down, kissing you as he sinks into your tight heat. The two of you moan, base instincts taking over.

“In... inside you?!” Daisy repeats, eyes lighting up at the apparent paranormal activity he’s discovered. “Oh! You died from an overdose, just like River, didn’t you? You had too many narcotics inside you!”

Downstairs, Pogo steps forward, and swallows. Jeordie closes his eyes, and waits. Suddenly, a car screeches through a red light outside, and Jeordie practically jumps into Pogo’s arms, forcing the two together at the lips. Pogo’s eyes fly open, and Jeordie’s close again, enjoying the kiss. They break away, and stare at one another. Pogo swears, and goes in for another kiss.

“Harder,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around the singer’s neck. He pushes his hips in faster.

“You like it rough, sweetheart?”

“Yeah Bri, I like it rough, yeah...”

He reaches down, finding your sweet spot. You arch into him, scratching your nails up his slender back. He keeps pounding into you, and grunts into your neck.

“Baby, baby, baby...”

“Do you have a message for me, or for any members of our band?” Daisy asks, and lowers his voice conspiratorially. “You know... some insider’s industry tips?” He winks.

“Goood, you’re so fucking good!”

Daisy raises his eyebrows. “I... well thank you! Thank you very much, we really try to reach people with our music.”

“What the fuck are you blabbering about?” Pogo mutters on the stairs, wiping Twiggy’s lipstick off his chin. Daisy beckons them over.

“Shhh! Watch this. I’m sorry I ever doubted you guys... the spirits are so active in this place! Forget making records. We could be mediums!” Jeordie joined Pogo over by the bar as Daisy went on. “Okay—if you’re here with us now, give us a sign.”

There’s a loud bang, followed by a creak and a faint gasp. Jeordie and Pogo look at one another, actually a little bit freaked out by the response. Then comes the “communication.”

“I’m coming, oh-- I’m coming!”

“Where?!” Daisy cries, “Show yourself, come!” Pogo sighs, and Jeordie falls to the floor, laughing.

“I think they already did, pal.” The keyboardist raises his painted on eyebrows, and points to the VIP room. You stumble out, hair messed to hell, and Brian comes out behind you, buckling up his belt. Daisy stares at the two of you for the longest time, before getting up and walking toward the door.

The rest of you go to walk out, deeming the place a paranormal dud, when a gust of wind blows behind you. Brian’s about to turn around, accusing Jeordie of leaving a window open or something, but there’s nothing there. Then, everything happens at once. Daisy’s cup tips over the side of the counter and shatters. The door to the VIP room slams shut, and you all start to hear thumping footsteps coming up the stairs from the basement.

You and Brian grab at each other, running out first while laughing. Pogo shoves Jeordie over and bolts out. A few seconds later, he runs back in, grabbing the bassist by the hand and dragging him out too. Daisy stays, getting out the video camera. Brian walks back in, guiding the guitarist out calmly, and closes the club’s front door with a click.

“Hey uh, Bri?” you say, taking his arm. He grunts, putting an arm around you. “Next time you see your friend Johnny Depp... maybe don’t mention that we fucked in his haunted club. Kay?”

235 notes · View notes