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skipper1331 · 8 months ago

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Secret (2) // Alexia Putellas

She didn‘t try to follow you.

She didn‘t try to text or call you.

She didn‘t try to fight for you.

She let you.

She let you walk through that door.

She let you go.

They say that you only really appreciate something when it is no longer there - she understood that now. It never occurred to her how terrible it must have been for you to be her "secret," even if she never wanted it that way.

Plagued by the fear of what others would think or what would happen, she dreamed of a love without worries and anxiety; in her eyes, this love only happened behind closed doors. She didn't realize how bad it actually was for you, even though she knew exactly that you wanted a typical romance book love story. She didn't deserve you and even less deserved that you had put up with her in secret for so long.

You, on the other hand, were caught up in your anger. You had put up with this secrecy for over a year, but a limit had been crossed - your heart ached just in her presence.

She had managed to nestle herself in your heart with her charming smile, her sparkling eyes and her elegant but captivating nature. She was Alexia Putellas, of course she had done it. She could do anything when she set her mind to. She had won the Ballon D‘or twice, the World Cup and dozens of other trophies and titles - only the title of calling you her wife, she hadn't managed.

In the nights where she couldn‘t sleep, she had dreamed of marrying you - you were different. Any feelings she knew before no longer existed. It was only you.

And you were no longer hers.

After your break up with the Catalonian, your motivation started to rise again as the weight you had been carrying in your heart and on your shoulders wasn‘t there anymore. You went out with your friends, explored the city a bit more and focused on yourself. You deserved to be happy and you knew that. You treated yourself with new shoes (shoes you had been eyeing for awhile) and finally an own Netflix account.

In training, you went to your absolute limits, playing wonderfully and yet having fun - the love to the sport filled your veins again.

You were glowing - the new look suited you.

But when you were at home, it was different. Two people met at the doorstep. Person 1 who glowed and person 2 who sulked. As soon as the threshold was crossed, personality 2 took over your body, mind and soul. Your broken heart showed itself. You hadn't managed to remove the second toothbrush in your bathroom or empty Alexia’s drawer yet. Her clothes were yours too, you wore them as soon as personality 2 needed the comfort which was needed constantly.

You cried.

You screamed into your pillow.

You ate ice cream, chocolate, anything.

Watched sad shows and movies.

And cried more.

Nobody seemed to notice your switch of personality - who should?

No one knew that you and Alexia used to be a couple..

No one knew that your heart was broken..

I‘m capable of handling that on my own.

I‘m an independent woman.

..except one person: Alba.

unknown

hey, it‘s Alba.

Ale told me what happened.

If you need someone to talk to (a friend), feel free to message me:)

You appreciated that she sent you a message, her intention probably kindhearted but she was Alexia‘s sister after all.

You replied with 'thank you' and sort of an appreciation.

Time would heal your wounds. Hopefully.

In the nexts weeks, you focused on the upcoming uwcl matches and getting enough recovery after your training sessions.

You like to think that you didn‘t even look at Alexia but you knew better than that. She‘s Alexia and breathtaking, you could not not look at her.

But you tried your hardest not to give in when she looked at you, looking at you with those sad doe eyes. Sometimes it seemed like she wanted to approach you or even say something yet she never did, she stayed silent.

Was it wrong to hope for her approach? That she would just kiss you in the middle of the pitch?

Maybe it was wrong but you couldn’t help it. You loved her and you knew she loved you too. And love, no matter how much you want it sometimes, doesn't just disappear. It always leaves its mark.

Added to that, Alexia wasn‘t just anybody - she was the first person with whom you truly felt the butterflies and every cheesy book describing feeling.

She could have been your greatest love story - the love story you always wished for.

"Good luck" Alexia said, her hand brushing against yours as she walked past you.

She smiled a bit, immediately looking away, joining Aitana and Keira.

"Good luck" you whispered back, surprised that she had spoken to you, nonetheless kindly accepting that she did.

The first leg against Chelsea went alright, Aitana opened the score as you made it 2-0, 5 minutes before the ref blew her whistle.

You shook hands with each opponent and talking to your friends for a bit.

"Oh please, I’m your biggest fan, swap your jersey with me" the dramatic voice of Niamh Charles shrilled through the conversation you were having with Guro and Erin. You laughed, Niamh‘s arm around your shoulder, "oh please, please" she fake cried, the girl nothing but laughter in her voice.

"Aren‘t the dozens of my jersey enough?" you joined, laughing.

It was an unspoken rule whenever Niamh and you faced each other to swap jerseys as the two of you had met in the u-teams, becoming friends in an instant and being close friends ever since.

"Nah, babe, you know I can never get enough of you" she rolled her eyes, pressing a sloppy kiss to cheek.

Disgusted, you wiped it off and shoved her away.

Alexia watched the scene in front of her with fire in her eyes, oh how she hated Niamh - the green eyed monster talking.

"Jealous?" the soft voice of Ingrid pulled her back to reality.

"¿Que? No! I’m not jealous" Alexia’s accent was thick, her voice raspy and mind completely somewhere else.

"You should ask her out, I think she likes you" the Norse proposed, tapping the Catalonians shoulder as she walked to Frido, leaving the captain alone.

Ale had always suspected that Fridolina and Ingrid knew about the two of you because they were your best friends, but that wasn't the case. Alexia realized that only now since Ingrid had suggested asking you out - you had always been honest and respectful with her wishes - accepting them, even though they broke your heart day by day.

No one knew that you were more than just teammates.

They were clueless.

You were amazing.

And she was stupid - stupid to think that you would tell anyone when you hadn't even told your best friends and stupid for letting you go.

The second leg ended up in 2-1, 4-1 on average which meant that Barcelona would play in the Champions League final.

You were thrilled when the ref blew his whistle, so happy about the fact that you had the chance to win the trophy.

On the other hand, you felt bad for the Chelsea players, they had given everything as they tried their best to win. Unfortunately for them, it wasn‘t enough. You approached Niamh who had tears in her eyes, pulling her in a hug. You comforted her the best you could but loosing an important match would sting for awhile, no matter how much you praised the defender for her game.

"You know, I will burn your jersey at home" the defender chuckled, nonetheless taking her jersey off while you did the same - swap.

"That‘s only fair" you grinned, wearing now the blue shirt.

Once again, Alexia glared at Niamh, hating the fact that you were wearing 'Charles 21' on the back instead of 'Alexia 11' or 'Putellas and your number' but she knew it was her own fault.

If she had just listened to you or introduced you as her girlfriend with such pride right from the start then she wouldn't be in the situation of a broken heart and jealousy.

She loved you and was forever sorry for hiding and neglecting you.

You deserved better than that, way better.

Winning the champions league felt euphoric.

The final match had been intense, both sides fighting for goals as the ref showed many yellows cards.

But Barcelona did it, they had done the unthinkable - beating Lyon and taking their revenge.

It didn‘t matter that the score was only 1-0. That one goal meant more than anything to everybody of the team. You felt so much pride and joy, the stadium chanting while you received your medals and lifting the trophy.

You wanted to cherish this moment forever.

"I‘m proud of you" la reina stated as she stood next to you. You didn’t even notice that she had approached you.

"Thank you, Ale, it means a lot" you smiled at the midfielder. Your smile was so genuine and wide, your eyes sparkly and shiny - you looked so beautiful, in Alexia’s eyes.

She couldn’t help but kiss your forehead.

You let her.

Her lips lingered for a moment, pulling back with rosy cheeks before she walked to her mother and sister who were waiting in the stands.

Your eyes followed the Catalonian, her mother hugging her tightly while Alba looked in the direction Ale came from - she saw you and waved.

Back in Barcelona, the team + family/ friends went out to celebrate. Drinks were getting drowned, songs were being yelled and dance moves were being showed. The vibe and mood was amazing, everybody letting loose after the last few intense weeks.

You couldn’t remember how many drinks you‘ve had but it was a good amount - each of them delicious.

Making your way over to the bar, you ordered yet another drink. You wouldn’t say you were drunk per se but you also weren’t sober anymore.

Nobody was, or cared.

You won the champions league, you were allowed to party.

While you waited for your drink, a familiar unfamiliar voice talked to you, "hola"

you turned to the side, seeing the younger Putellas standing next to you.

"hi" you replied.

"Congratulations! Your goal was amazing" she beamed while you smiled and mumbled a thanks. "my sister can be an ass, you know? Oh yeah, you do." she giggled at her own joke - she clearly wasn‘t sober either, "but she loves you. She‘s been sulking for weeks."

You tried to listen the best you could, questioning if you would remember the conversation in the morning.

"She even told mamá about you and how she fucked things up"

You gasped, "no way! She talked about me? I‘m so shocked"

The sister laughed, playfully hitting your chest as you joined her laughter - eyes watching the two of you.

"You should make her jealous"

"Yeah, sure" you replied, rolling your eyes, "as if Ale‘s jealous"

"More than you think. She doesn’t like your friend Charles, for example. 'she should wear my name' blah blah blah" Alba explained, your mind spinning for several reasons.

"How should I make her jealous then?"

"Easy. Follow me" the girl grabbed your arm, pulling you on the dance floor, "hey! my drink" you grumbled, the Putellas sister ignoring you.

She turned around, looping her arms around your waist as yours went around her neck. You followed Alba‘s lead, Shakira blasting through the speakers. Looking around, you searched for Alexia. It didn‘t take long to find those pretty eyes who looked nothing but angry. Her jaw was clenched, hands balled into fists as she shifted uncomfortably around.

She was not enjoying the show.

"Bet she‘ll be here in 3…" Alba leaned in, "2…." as you did the same, "1…"

Strong hands on your hips pulled you away, a protective arm smacking around your waist, Alexia glaring at her sister - so much fire in her eyes, "you‘re allowed to look but do not touch what’s mine" she growled, "now leave" her voice was stern and firm. Your ex girlfriend stood now in front of you, looking at you, checking you out while Alba walked away, winking at you.

"You look nice" the girl smiled charmingly, the green eyed monster completely gone.

"What was that?!"

"I said you looked-"

"No. Do not touch what’s mine?!" you mocked, your heart secretly racing at her possessiveness.

"I won‘t let her kiss you!" her voice was raised, jealousy pumping through her veins again, "I‘m the only one who will do so" the thought of you ever touching, kissing, loving someone else made Alexia furios.

She loved you.

"Do you understand me?"

The alcohol in Ale‘s system made her bold, confident and possessive - she didn‘t care who was watching or listening. All she cared about was you.

You had never seen her like that before - openly jealous, with her hands on your hips and chests touching in public - it was hot. She was hot.

"Yes, I do" you replied, somehow starstruck.

"Good girl"

You died on the spot.

Was it hot in here? It definitively was! Or was it just Alexia?

It was just Alexia.

Your knees went weak, your heart was racing and skin on fire.

In a crowded bar, surrounded by family, friends and colleagues she smashed her lips against yours. You responded as eagerly while she tried to pull you impossibly closer - oh, how she had missed you and your kisses.

This kiss wasn‘t like the ones you shared before, it was pure need.

"Let‘s go" the midfielder mumbled, trying to catch her breath, the same as you did. She waited for a respond - your consent - before she left.

With you.

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cottonlemonade · 3 months ago

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Alone At The Library

word count: 2342 || avg. reading time: 10 mins.

pairing: rival!Akaashi x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, rivals to lovers

warnings: implications of financial struggles

request: small pineapple lemonade with extra ice for Akaashi || fluffy accidental confession with rival Akaashi

In desperate need of escaping the academic and social pressure of a top university, Akaashi convinced his parents that it would not be the end of the world if he went to one a little outside of Tokyo instead. It was far less prestigious, of course, and few people had ever heard of it. But in the end, his air-tight argumentation had won them over and he had moved into his dorm in a neighboring prefecture. The university he chose had a surprisingly good literary program with shockingly bad libraries. For months now the main library on campus was under construction with no indication of anyone ever working on it and so the students were forced to fan out to the smaller libraries in the surrounding neighborhoods to find the volumes necessary for their field.

Akaashi stretched his neck and winced when it popped. He would have loved to take the stack of books next to him to the dorms but the small town library he had chosen was so miserably equipped that they couldn‘t afford to let the few academic publications they carried leave the premises. The essay he was pondering over was a lot trickier than he had anticipated and if he didn‘t hand it in by tomorrow he‘d get a failing grade by default. And so, resigning himself to his fate, he shuffled to the lobby to get a paper cup of watery coffee from the old vending machine, ready to make the most of it until closing time.

When he returned to his spot at the long, somehow always mysteriously sticky table he frowned. He could have sworn there was a book missing. Confused and thinking his exhausted mind must be playing tricks on him he looked around but besides the elderly woman at the reception, deeply engrossed in a well-read paperback with a questionable title, there was no one else around. Akaashi bent down to look through his bag, considering he might have absently put it away, and shot back up a moment later when a pair of chubby legs in very familiar, frayed sneakers walked past on the other side, heading towards the opposite end of the table and he heard the unmistakable sound of books being somewhat carelessly dropped onto the surface.

His mood darkened. Pretending you couldn‘t see him, you placed your backpack on the chair next to you and withdrew a tattered notepad, pencil case, and water bottle, reaching for the first book. Once you opened it, he noticed the cover.

You didn‘t even have the decency to look ashamed when he came over. “What do you think you‘re doing?“, he asked.

“What does it look like?“, you replied, your tone pointedly bored as you flipped through the pages.

“I was working with this book.“

“Really? Looked to me like you were done with it.“

“I only went to get a coffee.“, he pressed out through his teeth, “And it lay open next to my paper. How much more in use could it have been?“

“Listen, you have a whooole stack next to you. Why don‘t you use those until I‘m done, hm?“

You had the audacity to give him a very fake bright smile.

He hated that he didn’t immediately have another comeback. Biting the inside of his cheek he thought but ultimately knew there was no point in arguing with you. Any wall would be more susceptible.

“20 minutes.“, he said coldly, “Then you‘ll give it back.“

“Sure thing, pretty boy.“, you said sarcastically, placed the book demonstratively in front of you, and began taking notes. As he walked away you added lazily, “You misspelled “embarrassing“ in your second paragraph. - Ironically.“

As he sat back down, feeling his blood pressure steadily rising in your presence, he felt a pang of annoyance when he saw you were right.

“Time‘s up.“ Exactly 20 minutes later, Akaashi stepped next to you once again. He reached out for the book but you held it tightly, scribbling away. “Just take a picture and work with that.“, he suggested irritably.

“Battery died.“, you only replied without taking your eyes off the paragraph or stopping to write.

For a couple of moments he just stood next to you, hoping to bring you out of context for one, but also maybe come up with a solution for your problems. There was a lot of cross-referencing involved in his paper. Taking pictures would most likely take longer than just looking it all through in his case.

“Maybe we can share it.“, he said eventually.

You looked up and raised a highly doubtful brow.

“I know,“, he suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, “but if we both need it right now that feels like the only way.“

After a moment‘s thought you moved your backpack from the chair to make space for him and continued your work.

He scoffed inwardly. Obviously, you expected him to move to you, but not wanting to risk another argument he gave in and went to collect his things.

It was by no means a perfect solution but at least there was minimal fighting. You were even considerate enough to only hold the page open at a 90 degree angle so he could continue reading on the page he was on, which he conceded was rather civil of you.

The late summer sun was ready to turn in and through the windows offered little support with grayish golden light.

“Okay, you two. It‘s time to pack up for today.“, the elderly woman announced. Instinctively, Akaashi checked his phone for the time. It made sense that the small library closed at 6 but he was so used to the convenience of the business hours of Tokyo’s city center that it caught him off guard nonetheless.

“Just another hour?”, you pleaded from the seat next to him, your voice sweet and genuine. He never heard it like that before.

The elderly woman pursed her lips apologetically, “I’m sorry, dearie. But we open tomorrow at 9, you can come straight back then.”

Akaashi looked down at his unfinished paper. 9 a.m. was his deadline. And judging by your barely legible notes, you were also in a hurry to finish up an assignment. You began putting your things away and looked confused when he grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“Gimme a moment.”, he said and got up.

You watched with rising curiosity how he rounded the corner of the table and began talking with the woman. They were too far away to hear clearly but she laughed and playfully waved him off. He kept on talking for about another thirty seconds before she laughed - no, not laughed. Giggled. Then she rummaged in her purse, produced a set of very jangly keys, and, unclipping one of them, handed it to him. Your jaw dropped when she waved Goodbye to you past his shoulder. With a small satisfied grin, he returned to you and plopped down on the chair, going back to the book as if nothing happened. Evidently, you weren’t gonna let it slide and stared at him until he talked.

“Don’t look at me like that. I just got us VIP access.”, he held up the key, “We can stay as long as we want. Just have to lock up after and leave the key under that clay owl at the entrance.”

“How did you even…?”, you asked, impressed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just asked nicely, that’s all.”

“Uh huh.”

“You have your ways,”, he pointed to the book you previously swiped from him, “and I have mine.”

“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

As a child, Akaashi would have done anything to spend a night alone in a manga café. He would have practically glowed at the prospect of squinting for hours at the text bubbles and admiring the details in the panels. Now that he got glasses, the squinting was gone, but his love of reading was still as strong as ever and even though it wasn’t an exciting manga in front of him or a café that kept him fed with ramen and other junk food he still felt a deep sense of joy to spend time alone in a library. Well, almost alone. A loud growling of your tummy ripped him from his nostalgia.

He had completely forgotten about the time. “Maybe we should order some food.”, he said, reaching into his pocket and taking out his wallet to check how much cash he had. He doubted the delivery services this far out all came equipped with card readers. Scrolling through the handful of delivery services in the area, he asked, “What are you in the mood for?”

He was about to lay out your options when you shook your head. From somewhere in your backpack you produced a slightly squished onigiri. It was from a convenience store with a bright red sticker announcing that it had been on sale due to the close expiration date. His eyes fell onto your notepad once again, densely covered in scribbles, not wasting a single centimeter of space. The scratches and dents in your metal pencil case suggested that it had been with you for a long time. He tried to remember ever seeing you during the many social events the university offered. But whenever the class suggested going out for dinner you made excuses of studying or having to part-time. He knew you were a scholarship student but he just figured it was because of your excellent grades since you two usually fought for the top score of the year, not for a lack of money.

Akaashi looked down at his wallet again.

“I can just pay for both of us, no problem.”, he offered and was shocked when that earned him a dagger-filled glare.

“No thank you.”, you said sharply and bit into the rice ball.

He shrugged. “Fine. Suit yourself.” After ordering a large pizza for himself, he put his phone away again, going back to working silently by your side. The book that had started the alliance was pushed out of the way at this point and you were each going through separate materials.

About half an hour passed before his phone buzzed, letting him know the pizza was waiting out front and when he returned the tempting smell of cheese and freshly baked bread filled the air. With a slice, heavily laden with different toppings, in one hand, Akaashi went back to checking the notes he had taken since his arrival, sifting out the truly important and highlighting the ones he wanted to add to his paper. Your stomach grumbled again and your hand automatically went to cover it. He pretended not to notice it, but a grin slowly formed on his lips with each new noise coming from you. He heard you swallow quietly and caught you glancing at the pizza every so often. He took his second piece, adding a little hum of culinary delight to the mix.

Once a third of the pizza was gone and you still hadn‘t said anything he was beginning to worry his idea hadn‘t worked, so he swerved to plan B. Leaning back in his chair he patted his stomach, a small bump indicating he was stuffed. “Hey, can you do me a favor?“

“When have I ever been known to do that?“

Akaashi ignored your comment.

“I think I was being too greedy. There is no way I can finish this thing on my own.“

With a sidelong look at him, you raised a brow. “I‘m not a child. I know what you‘re doing.“

“And what is it that I‘m doing?“, he asked, innocently but with a definite challenge to his voice.

You were about to call out his obvious scheme when you wondered if it wouldn‘t sound too egotistical to say that he wanted to share from the beginning. What if he really only miscalculated his hunger? And letting a fresh (and free) pizza go to waste was basically a crime.

Wordlessly, you reached past him and pulled the box over so it was sitting between you. The first bite was heaven and you chewed carefully to savor the taste. Very satisfied with himself, Akaashi began adding his notes to his paper. Whilst nibbling at the crust you slid a book to him.

You tapped a paragraph near the bottom of the page. “Here, this is your topic, right?“

He quickly skimmed it and nodded. The title of the book didn‘t suggest that it had anything to do with his research.

“It seemed promising, maybe it can give your paper that last little bit of extra.”

He wanted to thank you out of reflex but instead said with a teasing tone, "What, you like me now?"

“I tolerate you.“, you said loftily, taking a second slice.

Akaashi mimicked you under his breath, of course still loud enough for you to hear, “I tolerate you.“

You both laughed.

“Can I ask you something?“

You nodded and took another bite.

“Why do you hate me?“

“I don‘t hate you.“, you said without wasting a single breath.

“Huh, you sure about that?“, he chuckled.

“Kinda. Like… 80% sure, I‘d say.“

“And what are the other 20%?“

Choosing to focus on the pizza, you shrugged.

“I‘d dislike anyone who is smart, handsome and kind.“

“You think I‘m handsome?“, he asked immediately, making you clear your throat and look away. He was having a great time.

“Oh, don‘t pretend you don‘t know you‘re dreamy.“, you said with playful annoyance, “Why do you think I call you pretty boy?“

“Is that so?“

With your cheeks turning very red very quickly you took a new book from your stack and opened it to a random page. Picking up your pen, you began taking notes again.

He watched you for a bit, impressed by your dedication, then asked, “Interesting book?“

“Uh huh.“

Akaashi reached for it and turned it around.

“Then I bet it‘s gonna be even better now that it‘s right side up.“

art: @ui536

a/n: thank you so much for your request and I apologize that it's taking me 6-8 business weeks to reply to requests by now. I hope you enjoyed it @toomanygoldfish

And a special thank you to @haikyu-mp4 for listening to me rant about this piece for way too long.

#sunnys lemonade stand #akaashi keiji x chubby reader #akaashi x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu x curvy reader #akaashi keji x reader #akaashi fluff #hq akaashi #akaashi x reader #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi keiji #akaashi x you #akaashi x y/n

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90s-suplex · 2 months ago

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Hiii I just wanted to say I really loveeee your little blog since I'm deep in the trenches for stone cold Steve Austin lmao (down bad)

it's literally so sad to hardly come across good stories about him (involving a reader) so I decided to hit you up and shoot my shot Abt requesting a little story where he's still in his attitude era but is also quite comforting and actively being caring through either his words or actions towards the reader. I'm never opposed to a little smut but if you don't want to for any reason then I don't mind it being left out.

Ofc if you're unable to or unwilling to write something like this then I completely get it and respect you for it. (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

I also wanna apologize if I did this wrong since this is the first time I'm kinda interacting and actively being busy on Tumblr so it takes some getting used to haha

AN: based on this Steve Austin & Michael Cole segment because it lives in my mind rent free, I‘m sorry 🤐 (in case the hyperlink doesn‘t work, just search up ‚Stone Cold attacks Michael Cole‘ on youtube lmao)

I‘m not sure if you could classify this as ’actively taking care of reader’, I promise I tried writing something comforting & fluffy at first but since Austin is a smug lil‘ bastard this took a detour :3 I‘m sleepdeprived, so I hope this makes any sense lmao !

reader is genderneutral and not a wrestler :)

Summary: After witnessing Stone Cold Steve Austin‘s gradual decent into paranoia, you decide to talk some sense into him.

Tw: implied sexual references, mentions of wrestling typical violence

—————————————————————

“We're backstage with former hardcore champion Kurt Angle. Kurt, thank you for joining us for this quick interview," greeted Michael Cole the moment you turned on the TV.

A couple of minutes ago, Stone Cold and you had arrived at the arena. Being one of the top draws of the company, Austin had the luxury of a private dressing room and tonight you had decided to join him there instead of waiting for him at the hotel.

Since he wasn’t scheduled to appear on TV until later parts of the show on this particular day, the two of you showed up when TV tapings were already well underway. After dropping off your belongings, you sank on the couch and switched on the TV to find out what had happened so far, while Austin went into the bathroom to get ready.

“Last Monday Night on Raw is War, the hardcore championship was on the line in your match against RVD. Stone Cold Steve Austin interfered and cost you the title when he tossed you down from the stage onto the concrete floor 10 feet below.“

Kurt pressed his lips together into a tight line as he listened to Michael Cole rehash last Monday night‘s events.

“Tonight you will team with Chris Jericho to take on RVD and Stone Cold Steve Austin,“ Cole continued.

“How do you feel going up against a man like Austin, who has total disregard for your physical well-being?" Michael Cole implored, leaning closer.

“How do I feel?“ Kurt answered after snapping his head back, “I feel the same way about my tag team match tonight against Austin as I will at Unforgiven."

The camera slowly zoomed in on Kurt. There was a film of sweat covering his face. He shifted his attention away from Cole, now pointing his index finger directly at the camera before he spoke again.

"I feel like kicking Austin's ass. And after kicking his ass, I am gonna take his title. I will walk out Unforgiven as the new WWF champion."

You looked over your shoulder. Said championship belt laid on the opposite end of the couch. You leaned over, grabbed it and took a good look at it.

"What?" a muffled voice came from behind you.

Oh, this will be interesting, you thought to yourself and placed the belt on your lap. It rumbled briefly before Austin opened the bathroom door and stepped out.

"What did that sumbitch just say?" he asked you with his head cocked to the side. Austin had just finished changing into his black ring trunks, holding his shirt and jeans in his hand.

You reached for the TV remote on the desk before you and turned up the volume.

"Kurt wants to kick your ass. He said he's gonna take your title too, while he's at it," you replied.

Austin snorted in disapproval. He tossed his clothes onto a spare chair in the corner of the dressing room, shaking his head. "Good luck trying," he spat out.

With three quick strides, he stood next to you. "Can you believe the nerve of that guy? He's lucky this ain't a one-on-one match tonight."

He sank down onto the sofa. "Tonight he can hide behind his tag Team partner. But Kurt knows I can beat his ass any day of the week, and twice on Sunday.“

He paused for a moment and his eyes darkened, “Hell, I can beat both of their asses at the same time!“

You rolled your eyes. Over the last few months, Stone Cold had become increasingly more paranoid. Granted, he had always been quick-tempered and cocky. However, these tendencies had intensified drastically, reaching their peak the night he attacked Michael Cole on live TV, throwing ridiculous accusations at him and harassing him.

The fast-paced life, countless hours on the road and injuries had worn him out, there was no denying that. He was on edge most of the time these days both on and off camera, always eager to start arguments with whoever crossed his path, though he never took his irritations out on you.

On the outside he was closed off, only allowing a handful of people to get to know him on a deeper level. You found it quite amusing how surprised other people would be to find out how he behaved behind closed doors when he craved your soft skin. Whenever you decided to join him on the road traveling from city to city, he’d always be thankful as you were his sweet little escape.

Regardless, you had grown tired of his mood swings and wanted to talk some sense into him. You felt bad for Cole. But knowing how stubborn and bull-headed Stone Cold was, you knew this could prove difficult. Especially since you weren’t part of this business.

On the other hand, you weren‘t stupid - his abrasiveness was part of his appeal - both to the crowd and to you. You knew that and Austin did too.

Your fingers drew mindless circles on the championship belt on your lap as the next match had just started on your backstage TV.

“It‘s pretty, ain‘t it?“ he mused and pointed at the prized possession on your lap. His features had softened, revealing a slight smile.

You grazed over the ridges and nodded.

“What‘s it made out of?“ you asked. Your reflection stared back at you from the squeaky clean golden surface. It couldn‘t be made out of real gold you figured - at least not entirely. Still, it had to be somewhat valuable.

When he didn‘t reply you looked back at him. He was scratching his beard.

“Ha! How .. ironic,“ you teased him drawing out your words. “You wanna whip Kurt‘s ass for trying to take your title but you don‘t even know if it‘s worth a dime?“

He exhaled, “Well, I don‘t know the specifics. They don‘t matter anyway.“

Austin moved closer to you and pointed at the nameplate on the belt. It displayed Stone Cold Steve Austin in capital letters. “You see? It’s more about the ideal value than the material one.“

“You do know I need my title back later, right?“ he snickered while playfully nudging your knee.

His hand stayed there and the two of you were silent for a few moments.

He spoke again, “Technically, it‘s not worth much. Some kind of cheap alloy.“

Aha. So it‘s worth nothing after all.

“But every time I go out to the ring, I bust my ass trying to make it look like the most prestigious thing in the world,“ Austin explained while he let his hand slowly trail up your inner thigh.

Your skin prickled under his touch.

“And I‘d say I do a pretty good job at that,“ Austin squeezed your thigh lightly before he continued in a low tone, “What do ya think?“

He did. That‘s why you were curious about its actual worth in the first place. But you decided you’d rather mess with him a little bit.You returned his gaze. As he cocked his eyebrow awaiting your response, you simply shrugged half-heartedly.

“Kinda, I guess.“

Your answer earned you another chuckle from him. “Hard to impress, I see.“

With a final squeeze, he stood up to go fetch his training bag. You watched him leave to tape up his wrists in preparation for his upcoming match, but still felt his touch linger on you. As soon as his back was turned to you, you shifted on the couch and cleared your throat. Moments later, he returned to the couch along with his bag. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eyes as he pulled out his knee braces and put them on.

You sank deeper into the couch. Suddenly you felt incredibly stupid. You were chewing at the inside of your mouth, pondering on how to tackle this topic.

“Have you ever thought about taking it down a few notches?“ you began and crossed your arms over your chest.

For a second, Austin seemed genuinely confused.

“Your attitude, I mean. You’ve become so irritable over the last months,“ you paused. “And paranoid. Lashing out at people, stirring shit up...“

Now he seemed to understand what you were trying to get at.

After he finished adjusting his knee braces, he rubbed his face in a contemplative way.

“Maybe you should take a break?“ you suggested.

He immediately dismissed the idea. “If I do that, I might as well call it quits. You heard it yourself, Kurt is itching to take my spot, as are all the other guys. You call it paranoid, I call it being prepared.“

Austin leaned back and put his arms on the back of the couch, “And I‘d rather be prepared than surprised and stabbed in the back.“

“Okay, I get that. But don‘t you think you‘ve taken it a bit too far lately?“

Images of Austin‘s unfair attack on Michael Cole on live TV a couple of weeks ago flashed before you.

“Attacking staff? Really?“ you shot him a stern look. “Did you really have to stoop this low? You know Michael-“

You got interrupted by a big, hearty laugh from Austin.

“This is about Cole? You feel sorry for Cole?“ he chuckled.

You failed to recognize what was so funny about your remark.

“Don‘t worry, he can take it. Besides, he had it coming,“ he justified his actions. “He should know better than to run his mouth. He‘s been around long enough.“

When he noticed your dissatisfaction, he let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes. He was tired and he didn‘t want to start arguing with you.

“But if it makes you feel any better, I can go talk to him.“ He didn‘t flat out say ‘apologize‘, but this was a good start. Better than nothing.

Your face lit up and he regarded you with a certain spark in his eyes that you couldn‘t quite place.

Once again he inched closer towards you, “I don‘t get why you‘re getting worked up over this. As far as I am concerned, I‘ve always taken real good care of you. Ain‘t that right?“

He paid close attention to your reaction as he placed his hand on your thigh again. “Or would you say otherwise? I‘m open for critique.“

With his hand resting on your thigh, you knew what he was alluding to and you had to admit - he was right. He had always been more than … generous with his affection towards you. The heat between your legs returned and you cursed yourself for reacting that way right now.

“I saw you squirming earlier, “he added when you took too long to reply with a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

Great. And here you thought you were being discreet.

“This isn‘t about me, so don‘t try switching the topic.“

Austin raised his hand defensively, “Nobody‘s trying to switch the topic. I simply asked you a question. That‘s all.“

You exhaled through your nose and rolled your eyes with great exaggeration, making sure he saw it. “Yes, you‘re right,“ you disclosed in a flat tone.

„A bit more enthusiasm wouldn‘t hurt, you know. Should I be worried now?“

You stifled a laugh. You were supposed to be mad at him!

„Feeling insecure now?“ you said and patted the back of his hand.

Mere seconds after those words left your lips Stone Cold grabbed your waist and sat you sideways on his lap.

You were briefly taken aback by the way he picked you up as if you weighed nothing and felt your cheeks heat up. He reached out to tuck one hair strand behind your ear.

“Don‘t worry, I’m quite robust.“

You avoided his gaze. How long until he had to leave for his match? You turned your head to check out the time on the clock behind you. Immediately, he took advantage of you exposing your neck. Austin‘s lips brushed over the thin, sensitive skin on your neck and you held your breath.

“But I’m curious now. Go on, tell me. How do I make you feel?“

He grinned against your skin as his hand found his way under your shirt, slowly wandering up your back.

“Don‘t I make you feel good?“ he murmured before slightly biting at the nape of your neck, which had you biting back a moan.

“Lost your tongue now, huh?“

Oh well, now that you thought about it, you had successfully gotten your point across. Considering the fact that Austin would have to leave for his match soon, you might as well continue this conversation another time you decided.

He bit you again, waiting for an answer.

You pressed your legs together. “Y-Yes, you do..“

Shifting in his lap, you moved in to kiss him, but at the last moment, he pulled away.

You blinked at him with your lips still pursed. What?

He seemed to revel in your disappointment.

“Sorry,“ he gestured at the TV behind you. „Gotta get going.“

He maneuvered you back onto the couch and got up.

“What’s that sour face for, sweet-cheeks?“ he teased.

He lowered his tone. “I‘ll be back in 30 minutes. You think you can wait that long?“

You sat back and crossed your arms over your chest. Eventually, you nodded and handed him his title.

A few seconds later he was out the door.

#i apologize for any typos!!#tysm for the ask!!!!#stone cold steve austin #stone cold #steve austin #stone cold steve austin x reader #stone cold x reader #wwf x reader #90s wwf #world wrestling federation #help I hope the formatting is okay

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yuna542 · 1 year ago

Text

Connected (OT8 x Reader)

Part 18<-

Part 19

Pairing: Han x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: 18+, Suggestive Themes, Swearing, Fighting

Word Count: 3k

Note: Finally a new Part. Hope you like it and I‘m really sorry that you have to wait for new updates. But I want to write things I‘m confident with and that takes some time. <3 You remember that Video of Felix sitting on Hannies legs? Got inspired ;)

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.

Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

"I don't wear panties, you know."

Jisung's wide eyes, pouted mouth, and frozen look on his face was pure gold as you leaned down and whispered in his ear. You didn't know what had made you do it, but you had been so restless since this morning and an excited tingle had been spreading through your stomach all day. The boys made you unsettled, especially living with them. Seeing Chan‘s firm stomach, while he walked around the dorm almost naked every day, or Changbin‘s sweaty body when he came back from working out, Felix morning face, with those big glasses or Jeongins puffy cheeks after showering. All that was too much to handle the whole day, without being able to release some steam. The schedule for all of you were extremely time and energy consuming, which meant you hardly had any time together. It sucked but the preparation for the comeback would soon be over.

Then Jisung started to tease you in front of the whole crew of the Studio Choom Channel. The kids recorded the performance video for the title song today. It was a strong song and you were sure it would hit the fans like a wrecking ball, despite its unusual emotional depth and extreme mixed genres.

The Kids all looked fantastic. The new hair colors looked great on them, and you were especially taken with Han today. Probably because he wouldn't stop teasing you. He was clingy, kept pulling you back by the hand when you whizzed past him, called your name loudly to embarrass you in front of the film crew, and kept stealing little things you needed to work through your checklist. To sum it up: He was getting on your nerves big time with his outrageously handsome face.

While the guys all had enough to do themselves with makeup, outfits and rehearsals, Han seemed to calmly devote his attention only to you. You were already hurrying across the set again, where the lights were set up, and urgently needed to write down the number of one of the new stylists to hire him for the next time as well.

Thanks to him, the outfit selection had gone quickly and smoothly.

You patted down the pockets in your dress and then your bag, but you couldn't find anything there either.

"Jinnie have you seen my pen?", you asked stressed, but he just shook his head:

"Sorry, princess."

Then he proceeded to throw cheeseballs at I.N.

Chan and Felix were sitting in makeup getting made up while Seungmin and Minho were already in front of the camera getting their positions set. Just as you walked past Han, who was lounging in a chair, you wanted to scream out loud at his grin.

"Looking for something?", he asked in an innocent voice, tilting his head so that he could almost rest it against the back of the chair.

Annoyed, you took a deep breath and approached him.

"Where is it? Ji give it to me!", you snapped at him and he just grinned broadly.

"I don't know what you're talking about, sweetie. But when you're mad, you look really hot."

"Stop playing games!"

He chuckled and you wanted to be angry at him so bad, to get that stress off your chest, but he looked at you with so much joy in his shining eyes that you just couldn't do it.

"You... Just wait!", you muttered and your fighting spirit was gradually awakened. That's how it always went between you two. Everything was a game by now and the other was trying to win at any cost. If you weren't so competitive, you might have admitted that playing games with Jisung was fun and you even liked it a little when he annoyed you.

You leaned down towards him and began to scan his upper body with your hands. Irritated, he raised his arms and let you slide your fingers into each pocket and fold of his clothes. But there was nothing there. When you lifted your gaze, his face suddenly hovered directly in front of yours. Your hands were firmly at his stomach, and as the corners of his mouth slowly lifted, you drew your eyebrows together.

"Go ahead and keep looking! Maybe it's hidden in my pants. You should search there."

His suggestive tone of voice was unmistakable.

Shaking your head, you couldn't hide the smirk at his audacity. Slowly you let your hands wander into his lap and braced yourself against his thigh, arching your back a little. The red accent in his hair made him look even bolder, and today mischievousness shone in his eyes to a whole new extent.

"Isn't Minho playing with you today, or why are you so needy for my attention?", you asked provocatively, and immediately his eyes darted to your lips.

It would be way to easy to overcome the minimal distance for him to kiss you and you loved to stir him up like that.

You squeezed his thigh lightly and as if by itself he looked into your cleavage next.

"I'd much rather play with you. You have better arguments", he shot back, clearly alluding to what he hoped to catch a glimpse of under your dress. Now the corners of your mouth lifted as well, and you got an urge to take it to the extreme to see who would give up first.

"Tell me where my pen is now or you'll never see a glimpse of those arguments again, Ji!", you muttered dangerously, digging your fingernails into his leg until he hissed.

Then he nodded behind you.

"There it is..."

You followed his gaze and rolled your eyes directly. Of course, the pen was lying on the floor right in front of his chair. He must have thrown it there before you got to him.

You pushed yourself away from him and understood his plan too late. It was only when you bent down to pick up the pencil that finally the penny dropped. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw Jisung with his hands clasped behind his head, leaning back in his chair and enjoying the view of your butt peeking out from under your dress.

From the satisfied look on his face, you knew his plan had worked. You stood up and as you walked by, you murmured to him:

"You can only lose this game, dickhead."

Jeongin looked confused at you two, but Minho only shook his head at him and gestured for him to say nothing. He was already used to your bickering and knew it was better not to interfere. There was always that weird sexual tension which everybody left speechless.

Finally, you had unceremoniously disappeared into the bathroom as the boys were busy shooting the first part of the choreography. You slipped out of your pink lace panties and crumpled them up in your hand.

When you came back, the guys sat together in a little break where makeup and hair were touched up.

Seemingly by chance, you sat down next to Han, who was talking to the director. He advised him to stand at a different angle to the camera for his part, and Han nodded vehemently. Under the table, you apparently randomly brushed Han's thigh with your leg and smiled to yourself as he stiffened next to you.

"I don't wear panties, you know", you whispered to him at a moment when the Director across the table was talking to Chan. Han's mouth opened and closed like a fish and he had obviously forgotten everything the Director had said to him.

If he gave you a hard time at work, so could you.

His gaze was glued to your lap and he inevitably imagined you wearing nothing else under that skimpy black dress.

"You're bluffing", he finally whispered, slowly lifting his gaze to look you in the eye.

You crossed your legs and returned his gaze with such intensity that it gave him goosebumps.

You closed your elegant fingers around his hand under the table and with the other hand you put your lace panties in his palm before you just stood up and disappeared. Just as the director turned back to address him, Jisung stared down at his hand where the piece of thin fabric now lay. You saw him snap out of his daze at the third repetition of his name, and he quickly slipped your underpants into his pocket.

You had won this round, that was clear.

Self-satisfied, you watched him give you warning looks as soon as he was back on the set. For the rest of the shoot, he never had a chance to talk to you. There was always someone around who could listen and so he was forced to watch you with the knowledge of your bare cunt, when you were squeezing your knees together while sitting down or adjusting your dress.

It drove him crazy. He wanted to rip the dress off your body and risk a glimpse of your naked middle, to finally get that temptation out of his head. That only he knew and couldn't tell anybody made it so much worse.

After hours of dancing and tons of repetition, he dropped loudly onto the couch. A small seating area had been set up next to the set so the guys could take a break there and watch the footage.

Felix and Jeongin sat on the second couch while Chan and Hyunjin watched the choreography on the screens to judge if they were happy with it. Your feet were already hurting from the long day, and even the walk to pick up the coffee you ordered felt like an eternity.

But now you were walking around distributing the orders among the guys and the staff. When you were about to give one of the last coffees to Felix, Jisung looked up from the sofa with wide eyes. You could see exactly how much the whole thing kept him busy and that he had your panties in his pocket the whole time, even during the shoot, didn't let him rest for a second.

You handed Felix the only milkshake and he smiled brightly at you.

Seungmin leaned back on an armchair with a tissue stuck to his forehead so his makeup wouldn't be ruined by the sweat. Changbin sat at the other end of the sofa with closed eyes, so there was a gap between him and Han.

"You could have sent someone to get the coffee", said Minho, sitting in an armchair and propping his elbows on his knees, the coffee between his hands.

"Yes. But no one but me can remember your confusing extra requests", you said with amusement, taking the last cup from the cardboard box.

"That's why we love you", Jeongin sighed, exhaling with relish as he took a sip from his cup.

"Come here and I'll thank you appropriately!", flirted Changbin suddenly awake again, winking charmingly at you. He stroked one hand up your thigh to the hem of your skirt.

"Stop that, Bin!”, you breathed with a laugh and quickly jumped on before anyone saw how red your cheeks were getting just because of his touch. You ran over to Han and handed him his iced Americano.

"Does it have cream in it?", he asked just to annoy you, and you coolly returned his gaze. Of course, he had to keep provoking.

You withdrew your hand just as he was about to grab it, opened the lid and took a big gulp.

"Yes... Yes there's cream in it," you said, continuing to deny him the cup.

He tried to reach for it, but you held it a little higher so he couldn't reach it from a sitting position.

"What's the matter, Hannie? Do you need caffeine to get back on your feet?", you asked with a sweet undertone, like you were talking to a puppy and the others watched you intently. Han pouted and fell back on the couch. His legs were apparently barely cooperating. After hours of dancing, it was no wonder.

"Give me that! Please! I need this. My legs hurt like hell."

You looked down at him and considered teasing him further for a moment, but he looked really exhausted. So you sighed and gave him the cup. Hastily he started to drink a big gulp. Coffee was really like gasoline for the kids. It only took one full cup and they were working again.

But you were also done so you wanted to sit down between him and Changbin. It was the only empty seat and your feet were screaming for a break.

Jisung realized this as he put his coffee down on the floor. He was faster than you and spun to put his legs across the couch. Uncomprehending, you stared at him and he just looked back with an innocent face.

"What are you doing?", you asked, and he clasped his hands behind his head.

He widened his eyes on purpose and grinned in amusement, to mock you. With a snort, you simply turned around and dropped onto his thighs. Immediately his upper body shot up and a tortured cry escaped him as your entire weight abruptly landed on his already exhausted thighs.

But you made no move to get up and his whining quickly turned to a frown as you slid around a bit on his legs to get comfortable.

"What?", you snapped at him as he just glared at you.

"Do that again!", he urged you, and you looked down at his legs in wonder. His thighs under yours felt tense and you could feel the fabric of his pants right against your bare core. Slowly you moved your pelvis back and forth and an overwhelmed moan escaped him.

"Oh. That feels good!"

The pressure you applied to his tense muscles with your legs was more than pleasurable for him and his head fell back into his neck.

"Does that massage you? Does that really help?", you asked in wonder, moving a little harder as you braced yourself against the back of the sofa behind you. Another loud gasp escaped him and he clasped your thigh with both hands.

"Yeah... That's good. It feels good", he sighed and you had to grin as his fingernails dug into your inner thigh as soon as you put more pressure with your left thigh on his bulge. Suddenly he opened his eyes and your gazes met. Now he felt your exposed cunt right up against his thigh and the friction of your bare skin right on his length, sent heat racing between his legs.

"Wha... Hold still!", he breathed suffocated.

He grabbed your thigh so tightly you couldn't move and pressed it against the growing hardness between his legs. That had been far too easy.

His hands were so tense against your thighs that his veins stood out, and the silver rings he wore pressed cool against your skin.

A choking gasp escaped him that you had only heard so far when he had fucked you as you rolled your hips harder against his lap.

At that point, Hyunjin cleared his throat loudly and glancing over at him, you noticed the cameraman shooting the Making-Off for the Stray Kids channel much too late.

Had he been recording all of this? Han also cleared his throat softly and his cramped fingers would definitely leave marks on your skin. So you leaned back, seeming relaxed, and had to grin into yourself when you felt the outline of his hard dick pressed against the underside of your thigh.

"Are you okay, Ji?", you asked in the most innocent tone of voice that had ever crossed your lips, and he just glared at you with clenched teeth. His face was fiery red by now, even though he tried to look unbothered.

You started a casual conversation with Jeongin and Seungmin until the cameraman lost interest and Chan started talking to the camera. Han was never so quiet in his life.

Not long after, he excused himself and disappeared.

You didn't meet him again until you were in the car half an hour later. The shoot was finished and you could finally go home. So you had the afternoon free.

In the car you felt Jisung's piercing gaze on you and that could only mean one thing:

He would pay you back.

At the dorm, you had just set a foot over the threshold when Han pushed past you and jumped into the hallway, making you almost loose your balance.

"Why are you so annoying?", you snapped at him, and he stepped so close to you that you had to tilt your head back to look him in the eye.

He bent down and grinned meanly while one hand gripped your ass and the other held your waist tightly.

"I love it when you look at me like that", he teased, squeezing your flesh until you hissed and pushed him away by his chest.

"Can you just shut up for five minutes, Ji?"

The others watched you silently as they slipped out of their shoes. Despite the apparent argument, there was so much tension in the air between you that it almost seemed like you were having fun with it. The others just waited for you to pounce on each other.

"Just ask nicely. You know I love it when you beg."

"I liked you better with your head between my legs. At least you were quiet then."

Felix almost tripped over Jeongin, who froze and put both hands to his mouth. Changbin snorted loudly and Hyunjin grabbed Chan's arm to stop himself from bursting out with laughter, exactly like Chan who looked at you with disbelieving eyes.

"Shots fired!", laughed Seungmin and Minho patted Han's shoulder as he walked by, as if to comfort him. Ji looked at you speechlessly as well, but instead of countering, the corners of his mouth lifted ever so slowly.

You were just able to kick off your shoes before he grabbed your arm and dragged you into his room.

Behind him, the door flew shut with a loud bang and before you could take a breath, he pressed his lips to yours.

—

->Part 20

——————————————————————-

Taglist (closed):

@poisonivy21 @elizalabs3 @chartrucewhore @smutlemononeshot @hgema @bookwyrm28 @jeongchaos @jihanlovic @comingupwithacoolnameishard @marked-unknown @yuhjoeyuh @bakedlilgoonie @itstorimf @toomuchtellyneck @ana-stasssiaaa @galaxypox @n034sy @amara-mars @purple-bell @amararosesblog @tori719 @rindomo @freakinthesheets-excelexcel @crazyllamasurfer @luunaruwu @mariegalea @kimseungminsprincess @julciaqwerty @officialshania @whore4stucky9104 @foxinnie8 @i-dont-know-me-either @sirenthalia @mixling-blog @httpsmultifandom @hyunlixwife @eastleighsblog @tzalethhwang @queenofdragons12 @fixation-dump @midsoulz @emmxxsworld @scarletrosesposts @jinniespuppy @minervasystem @tasteskz-sworld @hyunlixsbbygirl @3rachasninja @cuddlethebear @sinforsuccubus

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vespervanbebber · 21 days ago

Text

when he wins, we will go backwards. It will get worse.

They will hate, and they will be proud of it.

And things, will get Bad.

And maybe, as some say, this will be the dismantling of ‘America‘ (tm). That, the empire falls. That, the oncoming storm signifies a new world war. Or something.

But when he wins, I‘m not going just Watch as things get worse and worse. I‘m not going

to lose.

And we‘ll see

We‘ll see how hard he wins. How bad it gets.

And if it gets really fucking bad, and all my protesting and all my fighting ends up with some nasty little visit from the nasty little restructured government, knocking on my door to take me away,

I‘m not going to be there. I‘m not going to go.

Because there IS something to the endless trumpeted (ha) ‘freedom and anarchy‘ argument from those ultra-survivalist, gung-ho first amendment dick riders: “That we must be Ready to Fight the Government when it finally wants to take Everything away“.

And they are right.

A well armed minority is harder to oppress.

And so, after I have done everything I can to peacefully dissent; after I have screamed my voice hoarse, Raging Against the Machine;

They‘ll come for me.

If things get bad.

And I will disappear.

I will use all those skills that are so hatefully coveted by the racists and homophobes and pedo-protectors and so on and on and on like a Star-Wars title crawl of skin crawling depravity, against them.

And Once everything becomes so extreme that they are Taking people from their homes, because they have dissented, by dissent or existence,

-If, things get that bad-

Then I will join them on their level.

Let America become the third world country it has never gotten to be.

Things aren‘t bad yet.

They look like they might Get bad, things aren‘t bad yet and you already see republican idiots missing shots

at their own presidential candidate.

And so, oh here me, you knock-off annoying orange leather-skinned used-steel-wool lookin fishdick, If It comes down to It,

If you start coming for me and my friends.

Hell, if you start coming for anyone

I will assure you, that America, true America, founded on the bricks of stonewall, the eradication of smallpox, the backs of ringfighting immagrants just scraping by, the endless sky above plains and forests that is not gone yet, the men and men and women that somehow landed men and men and women on the moon, will cost you. We will cost you dearly.

Because if you look at it, in most everywhere she is losing, she is losing by 3%.

Do you want to go to war?

Do you want to go to war with 47% of America?

It doesn‘t take a historian (though I am one, by degree) to recall how that went for you last time.

Civil war two. I can be Sherman. You can be dead.

Because I know that there must be at least a few, enough other like me out there.

Others who are Just as capable

of your hateful, spiteful violence

as you are.

More even.

We won‘t miss.

And unlike you, who will be out, on the street, or in your homes, or at the supermarket, preaching your hateful hymns,

I will be hiding

I will be in the woods, with the fairies and horrible terrible naught

I will be shadows, and Grassy Knolls, and theatre booths,

And you will be gone.

Of course, this is If he wins.

and this is if it gets real bad.

I hope it doesn‘t.

Of course, it shouldn‘t have to.

I shouldn‘t be strategizing with my trans buddy about possibly fleeing the country.

But it is what it is.

And if what it is what it is is real nasty,

expect nasty back.

#election 2024 #2024 presidential election

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autumnapricot · 2 months ago

Note

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love 💞 because I love your fics <333

ohh, thank you 🥰🫶🏼

(warning: major yapping incoming. no seriously.)

[1] will o‘ the wisps

quite obviously, lol! this story just has a special place in my heart, for the fact that i‘ve had the ground idea for so long, all the details that went into it that for most part probably even went unnoticed to the readers but were so important for me personally, the planning of things, the way i had like a list of the details and easter eggs and everything. also, the name (not to toot my own horn) but i truly had the biggest *oooohhh!!!* moment when i found this title for the story and it just fit so so perfectly. the vibe when i wrote it. yeah, just a lot of love. also it‘s my most „hit“ fic i‘ve ever written and wow, i would have never ever imagined to get this reaction to my writing, ever. like i saw the fics from other brilliant amazing writers in the fandom that‘d get 1-3k kudos and i was like what the hell, that‘s crazy much. and then wotw hit +1k kudos and i was (still am) mindblown by that because imagine 1k people irl telling you they love what you wrote? insane. and all your guys comments and asks and i‘ve gotten some of the greatest comments eeeveron this fic, like, just wow. i write for myself because i just have these ideas and words and stories in my head that i need to get out and one day decided to upload because i thought maybe a few people would perhaps like it, have a little joy with it, but of course validation is always amazing and nice, so this reception is mindblowing for me. also i now kind of wish i could rewrite some parts of the story, do some plots more or different or just write differently, but i always hate kinda hate my fics after a while and think i could have done better. but still, so much love for this fic <3

[2] friday night; i‘m in love

just for the vibe of this fic, it‘s my second fave :)) i remember i had such a good time writing this—it was the first time i went to a park to write and i stayed in that park for hours and just…wrote. this fic. and the song makes up the whole vibe of that time of that summer when i wrote this, so. just vibey. reminds me of good times but also somehow bad times. i got a comment that said „so this is what loneliness feels like“ and for someone reason that has stuck with me a hell of a lot.

[3] shores of forgiveness

this is not f1 but motogp, which is a rather little fandom on ao3 and at times idk what possessed me to write this, but, for some reason i do like it? idek. i don‘t even ‚ship‘ rosquez because oh my god, what a fucking mess that „relationship“ or well, that whole..thing..is. but that‘s somehow exactly what i love about them because fuck me that shit hurts and i lived through the split of worlds!! 2015 sepang. the press conference before? marc’s face? i wanna crumple like a leaf in the wind and to be carried away by them so fast that not even any fleeting emotions would ever graze me again. the coldness of 2016. 2018 argentina?? bro what a time to be alive (not!!). you need to know the whole rosquez lore to understand because my god. it hurts too good. literally as of this week’s events…imagine your childhood idol and absolute hero and later friend and now arch-nemesis still going on podcasts t.e.n. years later and still shit-talking you into the ground about how you’re the worst person to have ever lived and the worst thing to happen to this sport and entire nations hate you and and and!! well, ANYWAY, back to it: i don‘t remember the whole thing anymore actually. but still third! byee (fun fact: i have a rosquez playlist that literally consists of songs to scream in the car in anger and heartbreak, and it‘s my kinda therapy oops. as you can see, i am very invested in them still)

[4] but if it ain‘t you (it‘s a lie)

idk. sometimes i forget about this fic oops. but i do like it, i like me some soft besotted absolutely gone in-love alpha charles and cutie-patootie omega max. i don‘t even like the smut of this. actually why am putting this on fourth?🤣 buuttt i also remember the car rides where i listened to the song and then just randomly sat down, wrote this in one sitting, done. i think i wrote this at work even. well well well

[5] now, i am become death

listen. liiisten. i don‘t even remember writing this whole thing. literally two weeks ago i randomly looked through my works, saw this, halted, and was like—who wrote this? me?? when, where??? when did these words ever spook my mind? i reread it and yk what, it‘s fifth. no clue what‘s going on but hey. swords and blood!

anyway waaay too many thoughts, i’m so sorry, thank you! 🩵🤍

#asks #a.a. tagged

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ladykailitha · 4 months ago

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WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write at least 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

My only problem is that I tend to file name what the title is so I can find it easier, so...here’s what they were called before I titled them.

“File” Names

Metal Band AU

Strip Club AU

Sugar baby!Steve/Sugar daddy!Eddie AU

Snippet

“Cher,” Eddie said to Chrissy, “how’s that crush coming now?”

Chrissy hit his arm. “Oh yeah, it was bad when she was just a cute waiter, but now she’s got this weird sibling relationship with the hottest dancer you’ve ever hired, this is way worse.”

“Glad you made the distinction about hired dancer,” he huffed. “If I‘m not the fairest of them all, I start throwing apples.”

Chrissy’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, we should have a fairy tale night where everyone dances to different fairy tales. With your looks you’d be perfect for Snow White. The pale skin, the dark hair, just add the red lips and it would be perfect.”

Eddie rubbed his chin. “We could even do it on a Sunday, because most of the fairy tales are about envy right? Snow White, Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, even Hansel and Gretel. Start coming up with fairy tales you’d want to do and we start practicing for it.”

“You’ve got it, babe!” Chrissy said with a kiss on his cheek.

****

It's that great and wonderful time of the week again! WIP Wednesday!

You'll notice no Boy w/a Bat this week because I'm too close to the end and don't want it spoiled for you guys.

The game runs from 8am-11pm EST.

Send in as many asks as you want as often as you want.

@mira-jadeamethyst @zerokrox-blog @forgottenkanji @w1ll0wtr33 @thesecondfate

@acingthecounts @beelze-the-bubkiss @just-a-tiny-void @kultiras @niniel-karenine

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #wip wednesday

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tys-kitty · 1 year ago

Note

About the Faerie title theories

The Seelie Queen was a traitor who helped as an ally in the crimes of the Dark War. The reason why Sebastian was able to open portals from Hell through Faerie to the Mortal world to kidnap, possess & kill all those Shadowhunters. Including Julian and the Blackthorns Father & Amatis. The reason he was able to kidnap Jocelyn & Magnus, the reason he was able to kill Raphael. The reason why the Cohort didn’t help bring Mark or Helen back because the Shadowhunter government stopped trusting Faeries due to her actions. The Seelie Queen was an extremely resentful & smug ally of his.

So I sure hope she’s not the one to rule Faerie by the end of the series 😟 Especially since we see that her behavior is still as arrogant, conniving, self serving, cold and self victimizing in TDA as it was in TMI, meaning she didn’t learn much from her wrong doings in the past 5+ years she’s been banished of sorts.

I really still hope she pays for her crimes! She’ll never be a good influence for Ash whether she acts maternal now or not.. I wouldn’t even put it past her to think that she might’ve intentionally gotten pregnant by a Morgenstern to have power over Clary and the Shadowhunters out of spite since she never liked them or Clary specifically with their bad history, which makes her becoming a mother all seem so much worse. Ash being raised by Clary instead would be so much better for him or even Luke Valentines old bestfriend before he turned into a bad guy with Kieran as the cool cousin that rules Faerie.

Totally agree with you, anon!

The Seelie queen is one of the most horrible and most underrated villains in TSC. She always plays a part when something terrible happens and always chooses to ally with the evil side.

Even though I said in my theory that I think she will take over the Seelie and Unseelie Court and unite them, I don‘t think TSC will end with her ruling over Faerie. Because let‘s be honest: Faerie has a lot of potential to be a damn awesome place but that won‘t happen with her on the throne.

In the end I‘m pretty excited to see what happens with Faerie. Because as of now, I can‘t really picture Kieran, Ash or Kit ruling over it, simply because they‘ve never wanted or asked for that kind of power. And obviously the Seelie queen won‘t stay on the throne, because I think we will indeed see a great change in Faerie (maybe they will alley with the rest of the Shadowworld at last)

#thank you for your awesome ask!#i just love it when people are so passionate about something #cassandra clare #seelie queen #kieran kingson #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #dru blackthorn #ash morgenstern #twp #the wicked powers #ask

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tales-of-kaylor · 7 months ago

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The Tortured Poets Department - first thoughts

Thought I‘d share my thoughts on some of the songs after the second listen. My brain isn‘t equipped to process 31 songs, so I‘m focusing on the original tracks for now 😅 (I also left out a few of the original tracks because I have no coherent thoughts on them yet.)

I can‘t wait to read everybody else’s thoughts and discuss them!

- The title track could definitely be from Karlie’s perspective (thank you for your message anon)

- My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys: there are so many kid/childhood references on this album (I wonder why). This song being one of them. It‘s one of my favorites right now. Cause I knew too much, there was danger in the heat of my touch. He saw forever so he smashed it up is so queercoded!

- Down Bad: I haven’t formed full thoughts about this song but it feels to me like it could be about Scott Borchetta? I could also see it being about Karlie and their situationship in the beginning?

- So long, London: Imo there’s also traces of Scott Borchetta in here. I‘m pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free. | And you say I abandoned the ship but I was going down with it. | Just how low did you think I‘d go before I‘d self-implode? Before I‘d have to go be free?

- But Daddy I Love Him: This is my personal track 5 because it absolutely broke me. The imagery, the message that she was caged at a young age and made to do as she was told is beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time. I just learned these people try and save you cuz they hate you. | I‘ll tell you something right now, I‘d rather burn my life down than listen to one more second of all this bitchin‘ and moanin‘. I‘ll tell you something about my good name, it‘s mine alone to disgrace. | Thinking it can change the beat of my heart when he [she] touches me and counteract the chemistry and undo the destiny.

- Fresh Out The Slammer: This song is very intriguing. I‘m reading it as, the love blackout is over. All those nights you kept me going, swirled you into all of my poems. Now we‘re art the starting line, I did my time.

- Florida!!!: Is this connected to the End Game music video?

- Guilty as Sin: Gay sex.

- Who‘s Afraid of Little Old Me: This song is so good! So much anger, no filter. I‘m here for it! The way she screams Who‘s Afraid of Little Old Me sends dopamine to my brain.

- I Can Do It With A Broken Heart: It‘s a bop. The last line Try and come for my job is everything. I know everyone thinks this song is about the Eras Tour, but I‘m not convinced.

- The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived: another Scott Borchetta song imo. I just want to know if rusting my sparkling summer was the goal. Her rumored coming out in June 2019? Also… that bridge 🤯

- The Alchemy: On the surface this seems to be about TK but when you look closer it’s a Kaylor song imo. These blokes warm the benches. This line reminds me of exile and is probably about the beards.

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ohwynne · 8 months ago

Photo

When Wynne asked if she had anything to give to Regan, Jade considered passing. After all, they parted ways forever, right? No hard feelings. Regan was adamant there would be no other way to reach her, refusing to disclose the address where banshees got their correspondence. This was breaking the rules, so to speak. And Jade loved breaking dumb rules, but she always respected Regan’s decision over everything.

But there was still conflict in Jade’s heart, so she consulted with her cats over the following days. Concluding, thanks to Lullaby’s wise input, that she couldn’t pass up on the opportunity to reach out. Except, she had nothing to give Regan, nothing she hadn’t already taken with her. More consulting was needed for Jade to have her lightbulb moment. See, there wasn’t a thing Regan needed from her currently, not with Wynne and Elias going after her. But in the future, maybe, possibly, if something came up and minds suddenly changed (as unlikely as that was to ever happen), she wanted Regan to know where she stood.

Jade figured a change of mind wouldn’t be enough for Regan’s stubborn ass to leave Ireland and what she believed to be her duty behind. No, Jade knew she’d try to make it work, somehow. No matter how miserable she felt. So Jade wanted to give Regan a hand, all the way from Wicked’s Rest, on the chance that Regan felt like her own desires didn’t matter enough to tip the scales. Regan had always been a little weak for Jade’s big-brained logic, hadn’t she? So she ended up handing Wynne a small envelope before they left for Ireland. The outside read: “Break in case of emergency”, and then below, “DO NOT break. OPEN” for Regan and Wynne’s more literal brains.

If Regan were to ever open the envelope, she’d find… a letter. It starts with a dramatic opening, “Regan. Hey…if you are reading this it means [del: I‘m]… things are not looking good”.

“Things might be super mega bad, right now, actually. And I know you wanna stick to your guns, I know you think there’s a way to turn this around and make it work. A last-second 3-pointer that’s gonna fix it all and make your granny cheer (I watched Space Jam, I think that’s how basketball works). I almost wanna believe in you, cause that’s all I do. But please… hear me out. Ireland isn’t the end of it. You can do what you must do here. I should’ve said it. You should’ve stayed. I wanted you to. But that’s not why I’m writing to you. I want you to stop thinking about everyone else but yourself. You are a person too. [del:You’re my] But if you can’t think about you, think about me, okay? You enjoy doing that a lot too.”

The message is followed by a list titled: “69 reasons why we should be together (number 69 will make your jaw drop)”. Jade started the list months before Ireland was even on the horizon, back when Regan was still pretending there was nothing going on between them. She never planned on finishing it, cause she got the girl, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

The list… is a bit of a mess. Parts heartfelt, part inside jokes, the numbers are not in order, cause, why would they, it’s Jade? Number 12 talks about both of them being nosy, which totally means they would have all the tea about the town, followed by Number 36, a simple “We can share clothes”. Number 20 is “You need someone to watch whales decompose with, I happen to have my Google alerts on”. Number 69 is just a winky face, but number 66 says, “bog sex might happen”. Number 17 mentions how opposites attract, while Number 18 points out that they’re more similar than either wants to admit. Number 52 is “We’d never run out of things to talk about”. Number 47 is “Porcupines deserve to be held too, in fact, they might need it more than others”. Number 10 reads, “Chemistry that should be studied in a lab, actually”, and Number 2, “I’d give up on hearing music for the rest of my life if that meant hearing your voice whisper my name again”.

At the bottom of the list, there’s Number 1, and it says: “I love you, and you love me. That’s not changing in this lifetime. So not doing something about it? Super irresponsible”

The letter ends with,

“Prove me right”.

Wynne has taken the envelope to Ireland and has not opened or broken it, even if there were some emergencies. The letter is left in Regan’s clinic, as mentioned in Dead End.

#submission.#jade.#dead end.#ireland.

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xxnghtclls · 1 year ago

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do u ever feel like all the good work here is getting recognized lesser ? because I see amazing stuff like yours and more stuff get notes and i love it so much when the authour tries to stick to the actual character and doesn't absultely deviate from the character. i feel that the ones with more deviation from the characters get more love, because capturing the character as it is so much difficult compared to change the entire thing. i read permission and honestly it feels like Sukuna. The rest i have read dont even feel like sukuna.

my point here is that i feel like true talent isnt being recognized. your work deserves so much more attention and love for writing sukuna so much like he is. not a lot of people manage to write him like that. i honestly love you and this one other user [not gonna be revealing there name because theyr'e a follower of yours too] and that's it. you write sukuna for sukuna. i love u for that. very honestly. i love ur work all art and writing included. sorry for ranting at 5 am in ur inbox but i wanted to show my appreciation. love you .

Dear anon,

thank you for your sweet message!

And yes, I do feel like that. I sometimes feel like ppl who draw or write him once in a while for funsies often get more appreciation for their work than ppl who truly appreciate him and try to learn about him and understand him and all of that.

People call me „the“ Sukuna artist, yet my art (at least on twitter) barely gets interactions that exceed 1k and then I see other art that gets so much more interactions, seemingly without much effort. Repeatedly. So it feels super weird for me and on bad days, it also makes me sad to see that my art didn‘t get the appreciation that I wished for it, despite me putting 10-20 hours into one piece. (not super healthy, I know)

Putting „my title“ aside, I do love my art and writing myself and I feel like it deserves recognition and that it should be recognised more. It might sound arrogant, but I do feel like that. But it‘s difficult when you don‘t purely draw nsfw, when you don‘t have an anime art style and/or are not able to put out art constantly because you‘re also writing a long ass fanfiction on the side… Algorithms fault too I guess.

On tumblr I do get super sweet messages really often from y‘all who write long texts about how much they love Permission or my art and it really moves me. I don‘t feel the need here to check on likes or anything much, because y‘all are super vocal and I love that. It makes me feel appreciated.

And I know I shouldn‘t pay attention to likes and all, but I would lie if I said I don‘t enjoy how ppl go nuts when they consume my art and writing? Like, of course it feels great to be cherished for something you created.

So, a message like the one you wrote means a lot to me, really! It means you didn‘t just scroll across my stuff, but you took your time with it, to look at it, to read it. That is amazing and I‘m really thankful for that.

Lots of love ❤️

#ask #i feel like i‘m oversharing #ah well

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italiantnea · 2 years ago

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#1-2_otogiri_tobi/ hallucinations on the boundary line

prev: 1-1 // next 1-3

-----

Tobi lay on the bed in his room, looking at a paperback book. The book’s title was Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? It seemed to be a translation of an American sci-fi novel.

The facility’s recreation room had three steel racks, lined with books donated by past residents. The residents were free to read them as they liked. Elementary and middle school kids always scrambled for the popular books, so Tobi read exclusively unpopular books to kill time.

Well, he thought he was reading. When he saw words he didn't know, he looked them up in the dictionary. Thanks to that, he’d memorized most kanji, but for some reason the contents never stuck in his brain. A little while after finishing, he forgot most of it.

Tobi looked at his watch. 9:56 PM. In the facility, lights out was at 10 PM for middle students, so there were 4 minutes left. Plenty of residents regularly used the convenient excuse of ‘wanting to study’ to postpone the lights out time, but Tobi never did.

“Gonna go sleepytime soon, Tobi?”¹

Baku laughed from the floor.

“What’re you talking about, sleepytime. I‘m not a kid.”

¹ Baku uses 'onemu', which is children's talk for going to bed. think beddy-bye, sleepytime, night night, etc.

Tobi put the book by his pillow. This was originally a two-person room, so there were two beds. But in truth, the room belonged only to him.

It wasn't like he’d asked to live alone. It had once been a two-person room too. The other person had gotten annoyed, and appealed to the staff. They couldn't stand sharing a room with Otogiri Tobi, they’d said.

“If you ask me, an eighth grader is a kid among kids, you know?”

Tobi stuck his feet out from the bed and stepped lightly on Baku.

“Ow. stop that, Tobi, you.”

“Baku’s even younger than me. So wouldn’t that make you even more of a kid?”

“I‘m an exception. ‘Special’, you might say. I‘m exceptional. Outstanding even. Oi, stop it Tobi. if you keep stepping on me like that, I‘ll lose my shape. What’re you gonna do then? Hey…”

After kicking him for a while, Tobi felt satisfied, so he stopped stepping on Baku. he turned off the lights, and lay down on the bed once again.

Lights out was at 11 PM for high schoolers, and there were residents that used homework or studying as an excuse to stay up late too. The walls and doors weren’t that thick at all. To nights at the facility, quietness was a foreign concept.

Tobi wrapped the blanket around his body and lay on his side.

“Are you thinking about that girl, Tobi?”

“I‘m not thinking about her at all.”

Tobi wanted to click his tongue in annoyance.

“She hadn’t even entered my head till you mentioned her.”

“Really? That’s fishy.”

“Seriously.”² ² the same phrasing as Shiratama used last chapter

The words came out of his mouth nonchalantly. It definitely wasn't because he was thinking about that girl.

“...Really.”

As Tobi corrected himself, Baku laughed with a kukuku.

“She’s a strange woman isn’t she?”

“Don’t call her a woman.”

“Well, she is a woman isn't she.”

“That’s true…”

“You were thinking weren’t you, about her. I mean, that happened. Of course it’d be on your mind.”

“Not really, it’s not on my mind at all.”

“Be honest already. Besides, even if you’re not interested, she on the other hand—”

“I‘m sleeping now. Could you be quiet?”

“Yeah ok, Tobi. Hope it won't be a sleepless night.”

Tobi closed his eyes and pretended to snore. Baku laughed again. He should mind his own business. Tobi wasn’t a bad sleeper.he could fall asleep right away. He wasn't thinking about the girl or anything. He didn't want to think about her, and yet he couldn't help but think of her.

“—I have a favor I'd like to ask of you, Otogiri-kun, so could I take this opportunity?”

At that, Shiratama had tucked in her chin slightly, and changed her tone strangely.

“Can you go out with me, as a friend?”

“......Huh?”

Tobi first tried to understand her request. Was it even a request? He didn't think it was a question.³ Anyhow, Shiratama was waiting for an answer. That much was certain.

But how should he respond?

Tobi couldn't understand. “Eh—ah—uhh—” he senselessly repeated.

“Ah.”

Shiratama covered her mouth with her right hand.

“It’s a sudden request, so I‘m sorry if it’s a bother. I don’t mind if you don't respond right away.”

“Ah… is that.. so.”

“Of course, if you’d like to respond now?”

“No, that’d— well…”

“Would you prefer later?”

“......I guess?”

“I understand.”

Shiratama closed her eyes, and breathed out a sigh.

“I'm glad I was able to tell you. My heart was pounding.”

Tobi’s heart was palpitating too. He couldn't help but feel like he was being given a raw deal.

“Then, Otogiri-kun, see you tomorrow.”

As if relieved after saying what she’d wanted to say, Shiratama bid farewell with a bow, and left as soon as all was in good order.

What’s with this person.

Right as Tobi thought this, Baku grumbled.

“What on earth was that?...”

In the end, he didn't get much sleep that night.

Of course, it was because of Shiratama Ryuuko.

Suddenly talking to him like that, and just as he’d wondered what she wanted, she’d said such a strange thing.

“Can you go out with me, as a friend?”

Taken by surprise, Tobi had been bewildered. Otherwise, he would have given some kind of response on the spot. That’s what he thought. Like, if a stranger suddenly said, ‘Won’t you dance with me?’ the answer would be ‘No’. A firm rejection.

If only he’d refused.

Said, “No, I won’t.”

The reason why Tobi hadn’t answered immediately, was because he was perplexed.

On top of that, the way Shiratama had presented the question was also a bit peculiar.

“As a friend”

That part was fine. It was the other part.

“Can you go out with me?”

Wasn’t that a bit weird? Was Tobi the weird one for thinking that was weird? Maybe he was thinking about it too hard. If it were just the former part, “Can you go out with me”, that go out had distinct connotations. However, he couldn’t just ignore the latter part. Shiratama had asserted that it was ‘as a friend’. In that case, that was how he should interpret it.

Long story short, what Shiratama said was merely “Let’s be friends.”

Shiratama’s way of speaking was also pretty distinctive, mixing in keigo, even though they were in the same grade. He probably shouldn’t let that lead him astray. It seemed like Shiratama simply wanted to be friends with Tobi.

Therein lay the problem.

Friends with Otogiri Tobi?

Why, again?

Then, there was an even bigger, rather serious problem.

Shiratama Ryuuko could hear Baku’s voice.

When he went to school with no sleep, the teacher with the black-rimmed glasses glared at him before the school gates. This teacher always wore a tight suit that fit exactly. And exactly this morning, Tobi did not want to be called on by the teacher with the black-rimmed glasses. Tobi struck first, and bowed his head quickly.

“Good morning, teacher.”

“...O-Oh. Good morning.”

The teacher with the black-rimmed glasses was clearly taken aback. He’d been all up in his hair every morning since first year, but nothing had happened when Tobi greeted him. He’d just answered “Good morning.” Had this been the correct thing to do?

“What’s gotten into you?”

Baku asked him as he changed his shoes at the shoe box.

“Who knows. I don't think anything has gotten into me though?”

“Is this what they call a change of heart? What set this off, huh?”

“You’re overreacting……”

His indoor shoes were a bit tight. Had his feet grown? As his body grew, his clothes didn’t fit anymore. Buying replacements was painfully expensive.

As he turned toward the classroom a little dejectedly, a long haired female student showed up from the shadow of the shoe box. Tobi unconsciously took a step back.

“Shi-Shiratama-san.”

“Good morning, Otogiri-kun.”

Again with that gaze. Shiratama stared steadily, straight atTobi.

“Wha-what?”

Tobi looked down and covered the bottom of his face with his arm.

“Do you need something? So early in the morning….”

“Actually, I was lying in wait for you here.”

“Eh…W-why?”

“Didn’t I tell you, yesterday?”

“......Yeah.”

“I wanted to know your answer.”

“Tha—”

“Tha?”

“...ats…”

Suddenly, the phrase “to make your eyes white and black” popped into Tobi’s head. He’d looked it up in the dictionary sometime before. It didn’t mean that the eyes literally turned white and black, but that the eyeballs were darting around violently. Right now, Tobi’s eyeballs were having a terribly busy workout. He felt faint.

Several students from their class came to the shoe box, whispering something to each other as they changed their shoes. They seemed to be eyeing Shiratama and Tobi’s situation. Like, “Woah, what’re they doing?” or something. Good grief. To be honest, the person in question, Tobi himself, was also thinking, What are we doing?

“Oh!”

On top of that, complicating matters, the passing janitor had called out to them. The situation devolved steadily into chaos.

“Otogiri-kun, good morning. What’re you doing there, Shiratama-san?”

Shiratama turned to look at the janitor, and bowed politely.

“Good morning. Thank you for the hard work, so early in the morning.”

“Thank you.”

Haizaki smiled bashfully. He was holding a cardboard box. What was inside? Whatever it was, Tobi wasn’t interested.

That didn't seem to be the case for Shiratama.

“That looks heavy. Shall I help you?”

“No, no. Heavens, no!”

Haizaki shook his head vigorously. His thin slitted eyes went round.

“It’s completely fine. This is my job, after all. I‘m here to work, and Shiratama-san comes to school to study.”

“You know, I‘m pretty strong!”

Shiratama lifted her right arm and bent it at a right angle. They were thin arms. Too thin. Were they really strong arms? Tobi didn’t think they were. The story didn't seem to add up either. Even if Shiratama had super strength, it didn't matter. Haizaki was carrying things around as part of his job; A middle schooler like Shiratama had no obligation to help him out. Haizaki had said it himself. Even Tobi, who Baku had called communicationally challenged, understood that much.

Shiratama might be a dangerous person.

The possibility had flickered through Tobi’s mind last night.

A proper middle school student would never ask to be friends with a classmate like Otogiri Tobi in the first place.

He wasn’t the type of person to let people get close; that he was aware of. Tobi wasn’t peppy. Nor was he kind. Nor was he interesting. He had a past that was hard to explain. He also had Baku, someone he couldn't talk to except when he was alone.

Besides, it seemed he was able to see things other people couldn't see.

If there was someone aside from him who was like that, what would he think?

Wouldn’t he consider that a dangerous person?

In other people’s eyes, Otogiri Tobi must be a dangerous person.

Trying to become friends with such a dangerous person, Shiratama Ryuuko must be pretty dangerous as well.

He felt the urge to run. He wanted to run, intensely. Shiratama was talking with Haizaki. Wasn't that his chance? That’s right. He should use the chance to escape.

Tobi tried to leave the scene. Even though he hid his footsteps, he was noticed.

“Oh-”

Shiratama grabbed his right arm. Near his wrist.

“No. don't go, Otogiri-kun. At least give me an answer.”

“...Wha?” Haizaki’s face twitched like he was flustered.

“Did I perhaps get in between something? Sorry, excuse me. Like, ‘get kicked by a horse!’ right?......”

Why’d he bring up horses? He’d read it in a book somewhere. There was a saying like that.

‘Someone who gets between a person’s romance should get bitten by a dog and die.’

For the dog part, ‘should just get kicked by a horse and die.’ was also an alternative.

It seemed like Haizaki had the wrong idea. Should he correct him? It didn't really matter. This wasn’t the time for that; Shiratama was still gripping his wrist.

Can you let go?

Tobi tried to appeal with his eyes.

Apparently it didn't get through to her. Shiratama was tilting her head in curiosity. He was the curious one.

It couldn’t be helped. Making sure not to be too rough, Tobi shook Shiratama’s hand off.

“...Um. About that, how about…well… we continue while walking, or…?” Tobi hesitantly suggested, and Shiratama nodded.

Should I run as fast as I can and shake her off? He considered this for a brief moment, but abandoned the thought. Shiratama fell into step on his left side.

“I would like to hear your response.”

“......Already? Isn’t it a bit too early?”

“Were you already in the middle of considering it?”

“Umm… ‘considering it’, more like, well…uh……”

“You’re such an indirect guy,” Baku said with a sigh.

“Are you an indirect person?” Shiratama asked.

“I mean, he doesn't have a habit of verbalizing his own thoughts and feelings. People almost never talk to him anyway.”

“What about with you?”

“I‘m different. That said, even to me there’s moments where I‘m like ‘ get it!’, or 'put yourself in his shoes!'”

“Like, in order to get on the same page?”

“Something like that.”

“......Um, excuse me”

Tobi hit his first against his forehead. His head was starting to hurt.

“Could you not talk like it's normal? From other people's point of view, Shiratama-san just sounds like she's mumbling to herself…”

“I‘m sorry, I couldn't help myself.”

Shiratama dipped her head slightly.

“But wouldn't they think I was talking with you, Otogiri-kun? Or maybe I was one-sidedly talking to you.”

“That would be strange in its own right.”

“Then please talk with me. If you did so, that would settle everything.”

“......Aren't I talking with you already?”

“By the way, what’s your answer to that question?”

“.....Like I said, it's too early……”

Tobi was suddenly aware of his worsening posture. He couldn't help but feel they were attracting the attention of the passing students in the hallway.

“Anyway…”

Or rather, they were definitely attracting attention. It was because of Shiratama. Of course it was.

“Why?”

As Tobi asked, Shiratama blinked rapidly.

“What do you mean by why?”

“...Like, wanting to be friends with me. Your reason, or well, your motive.”

“That’s because Otogiri-kun is Otogiri-kun.”

“Hah? What do you mean…?”

“Do I need to explain?”

“If possible. If you could tell me, in a way even I can understand…”

“Let you understand”

Shiratama nodded, furrowed her brows a bit and stopped in her tracks, pondering.

A bit late, Tobi took a step more and stopped as well.

Shiratama was staring at Tobi. It was that gaze, the one that seemed to seize you and not let go.

“Could I take a few minutes of your time? If it's alright with you, today’s lunch break. I can’t talk about this topic unless there’s no one nearby.”

Tobi was weak against that gaze. It was bothersome; he couldn't just ignore it. He couldn't look away.

“......Alright. I don't mind.”

That was all he could answer. What else was he supposed to do?

Right after meal time, the special classroom building was deserted. Tobi agreed to meet up with Shiratama at the external emergency stairs. As he sat on the railing of the landing between the second and third floor, Shiratama opened the door and climbed up.

Tobi felt a bit strange. It was because Shiratama wore a bag on her shoulder. It wasn’t the school’s standard schoolbag. Was it called a pochette? It was an even smaller bag.

“Hello.”

As Shiratama climbed up to the landing, she politely greeted him.

“Ah.. yea.”

Tobi nodded vaguely. Shiratama was so awfully polite, he was a bit taken aback.

“So, what was it again… your, um… motive? The reason why Shiratama-san wants to be friends with me?”

“As they once said, the proof is in the pudding.”

“Well… yeah, that’s true, there is that kind of saying.”

“Therefore, I brought her along.”

“Brought along…?”

Tobi frowned. As far as he could see, Shiratama was alone. She hadn't brought anyone along.

Shiratama lifted her bag and opened it.

“Come on out, Chinurasha.”

Could it be that Shiratama was calling out to the pochette? If so, that would be pretty eccentric to say the least. He’d thought she was an oddball, but never imagined to this extent. Tobi was starting to get worried about Shiratama instead. In all senses of the word, was she okay?

Or maybe, there was some creature like a small animal inside the pochette. In that case that would be absurdly problematic behavior. You couldn't bring small animals to school. Even Tobi could understand that. But that seemed to be exactly what she had done.

Something crawled out of the pochette.

“Hm…”

Baku let out a small voice.

See?

It was a small animal.

For the creature, the inside of that pochette must have been cramped. At its size, it should have barely crammed in. However, it was quite fluffy, so maybe it could unexpectedly get into spaces it didn't look like it could fit.

Was it a cat? A kitten? That wasn't it, right? Hah, “right”, I mean, that wasn't it.

The creature had horns growing out of it. Obviously, cats didn't have horns. A small animal, with two horns—

Did that exist?

That kind of creature?

He didn’t think it was recorded in the animal field guide at the facility. Tobi had been to the local zoo several times for facility events. He didn't remember ever seeing a small animal with horns. Then again, it was possible such an animal inhabited some corner of the wide, wide world, just unbeknownst to him. Or maybe, it was a baby horned animal or something.

Right after the creature got out of the pochette, it began climbing up Shiratama’s body. It wasn't nimble, but it wasn't clumsy either. It seemed pretty used to the movement. After reaching Shiratama’s right shoulder, it turned to face Tobi.

Did it have eyes? He couldn't see them. Maybe they were buried in its fur? Despite that, he felt something like a gaze.

“Chinu, say hello.”

As Shiratama called out to it, the creature cocked its head. It may have tilted its head diagonally. And from within the fur, a tiny, extremely small mouth poked out.

“Yu—”

“Uyu—”

“Kuchyu—”

Tobi heard something like that. Were they the creature’s cries?

“......Hi.”

Tobi bowed his head without thinking.

Shiratama scratched Chinu—or Chinurasha’s— chin with a finger.

“Good girl.”⁴

“Oi, Tobi—” Baku whispered.

“No way you haven't noticed, right?”

“...Eh? What?”

“That thing’s not normal.”

“Well, it… it seems to be a rare animal. It has horns and everything.”

“That’s not it.”

Baku seemed irritated. Aside from being able to talk to Tobi, Baku was basically just a large backpack. However, he sometimes opened all by himself when he got unruly. It wasn’t like the zipper unzipped.Tobi seemed to be the only one who could see it, but it was like the zipper part turned into a mouth and opened.

Just like right now.

“Don't you understand, Tobi?! You’re such a dense guy, dammit!”

Baku spoke, his mouth snapping open and shut. He seemed more agitated than annoyed now.

“Chinu is”

Shiratama brought her right shoulder up and rubbed her cheek against Chinu.

“Something only I can see.”

“......But—”

He could see it.

Tobi could. Clear as day.

Chinu seemed quite attached to Shiratama. Chinu rubbed her head against Shiratama’s cheek as well, and narrowed her eyes in content. She was letting out low cries of “hyuru—”, “yuu—”, “uu—”, or rather, they seemed to spill out of her uncontrollably. Chinu’s horns struck Shiratama, but it didn't seem to cause pain. At least, Shiratama wasn't in any pain. Maybe the horns weren’t hard enough to pierce skin.

“We’re the same!” Baku spat.

He seemed pretty unenthused about it. Or maybe, Baku hadn't come to grips with it either.

“Tobi, you were the only one who could hear my voice. And Shiratama Ryuuko was the only one who could see Chinurasha’s form. It’s not totally the same but it’s similar, isn't it?!”

“...So— Shiratama-san can hear Baku’s voice, and I can see Chinu.”

“That’s right.”

“Hn?”

Tobi furrowed his brows. He brought his fist against his forehead.

“...So, this is—What does this mean? Huh……? What is.. what’s happening….”

“Honestly, I have no idea either,” Shiratama said nonchalantly.

“I had noticed a while back that Otogiri-kun was talking to Baku-chan. Because I could hear Baku-chan’s voice. Otogiri-kun and I were the only ones who could hear Baku-chan’s voice. I thought that had to mean something special.”

“......Special—”

Tobi shook his head helplessly.

“I mean, it might just be abnormal…”

“Me and Otogiri-kun are the only ones who are abnormal?”

“Well… it’s more plausible than me and Shiratama-san being the only normal ones……”

“Just a second, Oi, Shiratama Ryuuko!”

Baku interjected, this time properly unenthused.

“Stop using -chan to call me!”

Shiratama looked at him blankly.

“Baku-chan?”

“That, yes, that! It makes my skin crawl. It does not fit me at all. It's gross!”

“I‘m sorry.”

As Shiratama tilted her eyebrows apologetically and bowed her head, Chinu made the same pose.

That’s cute…

Tobi was startled as the thought flashed through his head.

By the way, the one he thought was ‘cute’ was Chinu. To be exact, the phenomenon of Shiratama and Chinu doing the same action at the same time.

“Then, ‘Baku-san’?” Shiratama asked.

“Ahemm!” Baku cleared his throat.

“Adding -san doesn’t feel too good either. How about you just call me Baku?”

“What’re you being so snobbish about…”

Tobi wanted to throw Baku away. Baku retorted back immediately.

“How am I being snobbish? I‘m saying it’s ok to call me without honorifics, you know. If anything, isn’t she the humble one. Huh, Shiratama Ryuuko?”

Shiratama nodded. Chinu did as well.

“Then I shall call you Baku.”

“Yeah, good. I‘m not good with formal stuff anyway.”

“I also wouldn't mind it if Baku called me ‘Ryuuko’.”

“Of course that’s what I'll do. ‘O-Ryuu’ or something might be good too. Mmm, it’s not bad. How about it?”

“I don’t particularly mind it, so do as you please.”

“Then it’s decided. O-Ryuu.”

“Yes.”

“......You guys are getting more and more chummy by the minute”

Maybe instead of throwing Baku away, Tobi should toss him over to Shiratama instead.

“Ohh? What? You jealous, Tobi?”

Baku laughed with a kekeke.

“Don’t worry man. Even if O-Ryuu has appeared, the relationship between you and me won't change.”

“Me and Baku’s… rotten bond?”

“I said, it’s not rotten!”

“Then what kind of relationship is it……”

“The kinda thing that’s tasteless to say out loud. If I had to say, ‘partners’?”

“Chinurasha and I are also like partners.”

Shiramata smiled and looked at Chinu

“Right?”

“She doesn’t talk to me like Bake does to you, but she stays by my side. Chinu and I have always been together.”

“...Just asking, if I hadn’t been able to see Chinu, what were you going to do, Shiratama-san?”

“Then I would definitely—”

Shiratama pursed her lips and puffed out her cheeks a little.

“I guess you could only call that a tricky situation. A poor middle school student, acting as if there were a little animal there…”

“Isn’t it a relief that I could see Chinu….”

“To be honest, it was a gamble. But I thought, ‘maybe Otogiri-kun could see it as well’.”

“Everything worked out in the end didn't it?” Baku said breezily.

But if Tobi had been in Shiratama’s shoes, he probably wouldn't have taken such a gamble.

Maybe there’s something wrong with me.

Tobi had questioned that countless times. No matter how you thought about it, a backpack talking to you was not normal.

He could hear things others couldn't hear.

He could see things he shouldn't have been able to see.

Were these delusions? Maybe there were abnormalities with his brain. Maybe he had some mental illness. Maybe he should get it checked out by a doctor, he’d gone as far as thinking.

Tobi suddenly felt weak. He felt like he was gonna slip from the railing. Why was he so tired? He suddenly felt like he understood.

It’s not just me.

Tobi was relieved. It wasn't an illusion.

Baku was there.

He hadn’t been a figment of Tobi’s imagination.

He really existed.

“...Baku’s voice, which I could hear, Shiratama-san can hear too. Chinu, which Shiratama-san could see, I can see too. Those things that other people don't seem to see—”

Then, those as well?

Tobi took the plunge and asked Shiratama.

“In that case…. Can Shiratama-san see them too? The ones that cling to people, the kind of weird…”

Shiratama met Tobi’s gaze firmly.

Then, she slowly nodded.

-----

prev: 1-1 // next 1-3

³ request vs question- the original japanese uses 問いかけ versus 質問, both generally meaning ‘question’. From what I gather, 問いかけ refers to a question that asks how a person feels (no correct answer), while 質問 is a question that asks for a correct answer, like a math question.

⁴ Shiratama says いい子, which means 'good child' (gender neutral). Chinu doesn't talk and they don't use gendered pronouns for it so I'm going to take a gamble and say that Chinu (as Shiratama's shadow) is female too. will see how this holds up in the future.

#inochi no tabekata #inochi no tabekata light novel

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