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copias-thrall · 4 years ago

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Cause I'm Young and I'm Here and So Beautiful

A look into the rise and fall of Mary Goore's flash-in-the-pan modeling career.

~12.5K Mary Goore/Reader *drug/alcohol use; mentions of past child abuse; brief homelessness; plot no porn; POV shift*

This fic was inspired by and is very loosely based on Aurelio Voltaire's early days in NYC in the 90s, though I have set it in Boston in the early aughts. 😊

Many thanks to the artists who did commissions for this! 🥰

One Way Streets

Mary stepped off the regional rail and gripped his backpack. He had $72.57 in cash rolled into his socks and a give-em-hell attitude.

When he’d packed his bag the night before, he wasn’t even sure if he’d go through with it, but he couldn’t stand being home anymore. Some of his friends had told him he was crazy.

"Three more months, dude. You got this. Just finish high school, then bounce."

But they didn’t have to live with his dad and the step-monster. Every day was a new indignity. Having them bitch about his music and his style was one thing—that he could have dealt with—but everything else had just kind of…escalated.

Now that the kiddies were older, they’d turned into gremlins. They’d somehow sensed that Mary wasn’t their beloved older brother—he was some sort of half other. They’d stopped questioning why "mom was so mean" to him and had accepted that she was because there was something wrong with Mary. They realized they could be little shits and blame everything on him.

And dad just didn’t care. He’d throw up his hands and say, "I have to live with her"—as if Mary wasn’t in the same boat.

Dad hadn’t stopped her when—in a rage—she’d smashed every single vinyl album Mary had owned because the twins ruined her nice tablecloth. He’d shrugged when she cut all Mary's guitar strings so he couldn’t play "the devil’s music." He’d held Mary back when she took a match and burned all his secret stuff that Mary kept under his bed—action figures, books, guitar mags, journals—in the backyard because he got detention for smoking. He hadn’t said a word when the police showed up after she came at Mary with scissors because he’d dyed his hair black and he’d pushed her away before she could scalp him.

Mary thought for sure he was going to get carted off to jail as she screamed about him terrorizing the family and being afraid he was going to kill her sons in their sleep, but the officers had just looked at her bored and told her being a teenager wasn’t a crime.

So, no: Mary couldn’t wait 3 more months.

He’d scraped together what money he had left from his secret shifts working as a busboy under the table at a local dive downtown, packed his backpack with the essentials, and walked the 5 miles to the train station instead of going to school.

Eighteen was 10 weeks away. He could fudge it for a few months, especially since he could already get away without using his fake ID to get into shows most of the time.

So, to the big city it was.

He shifted his weight and tried to pretend that he belonged here in Boston, but actually facing the busy streets was a lot different from looking at a bird’s-eye view map. He had a printout in his pocket, but he didn’t want to look like a doe-eyed tourist. So he set off down the seemingly labyrinthine streets in the direction he could have sworn was the correct one.

It wasn't.

When he came out a side alley into Faneuil Hall, he almost wondered if he'd gone through a fairy portal, since he was clear on the other side of town. Begrudgingly, he checked his creased map, and set out once more.

And ended up spit out by the State building.

Finding the hostel turned into a fraught adventure, and he got turned around several times more. When he tried to ask for directions, most people pushed past him while one lady shoved $5 at him. He used the cash to buy a hotdog, and it was the vendor who ultimately gave him directions in his thick, Southie accent.

Of course, making it to the hostel ended up being just part one. The rates were almost double what it stated online ("Sorry, honey—that site hasn’t been upgraded since the 90s."), and two nights were practically all his savings. Mary had thought he’d at least have a couple of days to find a job, not 36hrs.

He left the hostel, wondering for the first time if maybe he shouldn’t go back home…but he decided it was a nice day out. Surely there was some place he could hunker down. Just for the night.

What he hadn’t anticipated was the cops at every fucking turn telling him to move along. And any place out of line-of-sight seemed to already be inhabited.

He finally found a place behind some rocks in the Seaport where he didn’t think he’d be murdered in his sleep, curled around his backpack, and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Mary woke up damp from the dew and the morning sun streaming into his eyes. The birds were creating an awful racket, but Mary guessed it was as good an alarm clock as any.

He ran his fingers through his bird's nest of hair, and he made his way back to the South Station. The men’s room may have smelled like a sewage treatment plant, but at least it was free. He had expected it to be mostly empty at the crack of dawn, but it was full of commuters making that last run to the head before they had to take the train 2hrs out of the city for work.

And it was a sight: a bunch of suits with their fancy lattes washing their hands, and Mary in the corner trying to surreptitiously wipe down with paper towels under his Misfits t-shirt and his shredded jeans. At school, he’d have probably gotten into several altercations by now—no one would have let him just turn into Mary Goore without a fight—but this was Boston, and no one gave him more than a cursory glance.

Just another college kid.

It emboldened Mary to go full-out in the kind of way he had only done when going out to the punk shows downtown at night: kohl all the way around his eyes, and some on his cheekbones; mascara because his lashes are long and thick, and he knows it (his dad had said it made him look hard, and Mary had sneered that maybe that was what he’d been going for. But maybe it had been because he’d liked the way it had made his green eyes pop.); a smear of the step-monster’s fanciest matte lipstick on his full lips; and airplane glue in his hair to give it that lift.

He made a kissy face at himself in the mirror, and headed back out.

It was a nice Spring day—almost boiling in the direct sun—and it tempted Mary to wear only his battle vest, but even he kind of figured applying to jobs half dressed was a mistake.

He walked all over the city, trying not to get lost, looking for any kind of work—dishwasher, busboy, barback—but all he had to show for it was blistered feet and a raging appetite. The only good part of the day was that he noted any restaurant or bakery that looked like it might toss perfectly good food at the end of the day.

He and his friends had become experts at dumpster diving in his podunk town, and he felt confident that he had a good feel for a jackpot. Mary staked out a bakery and was rewarded with a find of "old" bagels. He shoved as many as he could into the nooks and crannies of his backpack before slinking off to the Commons to inhale at least two of them.

Cold, stale dough never tasted so good.

He watched the tourists and the professionals walk by in ones and in groups while he ran his bare feet through the grass. Some laughed with each other as they sauntered down the path while others seemed singularly intent on their ultimate destination. A pack of dogs ran and played with each other as their owners looked on fondly, and nearby the baseball diamond hosted a casual game.

Mary counted his lucky stars that his first week in Boston was April at its kindest—always mild during the day, even when it turned cloudy, and a few times even downright warm. The nights turned chilly, though, and it had Mary in more layers than an onion. If the birds or damp didn't wake him, his butt cramps from being curled in a tight ball all night did.

He spent those days walking around the city proper looking for work. He wasn't adventurous enough to make the leap across the bridges to Cambridge just yet, but his travels gave him a good sense on how the different sections of Boston connected—and showed him potential places to crash at night. He didn't even mind living off day-old garbage food and drinking from bubblers (he'd bought a water for the express purpose of reusing the bottle), but the barren wasteland that seemed to be the job market was beginning to weigh on him.

At home, he could always find a shit job if he was willing to put up with shit hours and ridiculous requests. Here, though, Mary was just one of many desperate people willing to do desperate work.

And he didn’t look particularly trustworthy or reliable.

@dipendancesld

Hashtag WTF

I’m scrolling through Insta on the T, and I’m way down the rabbit hole of hashtags. New content was at a minimum this morning (how can I follow accounts in triple digits and only see the same 4 posts?!), so I’d started with some art tags and ended up where I usually end up—trolling social media for blurry pictures of my boy.

His band has been a local staple for years—or at least that’s what he told me on our first date. I had just moved from New York after a nasty breakup, ready to start fresh, and I’d seen him at a coffee shop hanging posters for his next show in his leather jacket, asymmetrical Metallica crop top, and stomping boots.

Fresh had never looked so good.

Then, a few months back, an online publication had featured his band in the year’s 50 best bands "you’ve never heard of," and now the band's starting to gain traction.

He’s starting to gain traction.

Finding the new online content of him first has become a game the two of us play. We had to stop counting images posted from the popular fan accounts because Mary's now acquaintances with most of them, and I said it was hardly fair to snipe me that way. Mary had pouted—but it was to cover up his grin. So now we troll for the pictures of his latest gig or at his favorite haunts from either his casual fans or one of his new ones. I even have a whole range of hashtag typos saved if I really want to triumph, since Mary just doesn't have the attention span.

I usually win, though, by virtue of not keeping Rockstar Hours—and because Mary doesn’t have a smartphone. Mary delights in spending the wee hours while I'm sleeping finding new content, and I'll often wake to one he's pulled up on my laptop and a "suck it" sticky note stuck to my monitor.

(But I’m reigning supreme.)

There’s a thirst tag I sometimes comb through (for reasons), and today I’m desperate for that morning serotonin to keep me from dozing off, which is why I stumble across a particularly convincing cosplayer in some…risqué poses and outfits.

The dude is really good, and I have to admit he really does have Mary’s mannerisms down pat. He’s younger and a little skinnier than Mary is now, but his facial expressions are on point. I zoom in to see the contouring technique because he's using one of those filters to make it look old…and that’s when I sense something off. I can’t quite place my finger on it, but usually there’s an uncanny valley to his serious cosplayers, and this dude looks so real. He’s even 100% accurate with the mole placement, which is something I never see.

My heart does a flip-flop.

Is that…actually Mary?

Foundling

Mary's sixth night in the city, it rained. It was more of a brief Spring shower, but it was still enough to soak him and his backpack through. He shivered through the early morning hours until the sun came up, then he made his way to the Commons to lay his belongings—and himself—out into the sun to dry.

By midday, he had a slight sunburn across his nose, but most of his things were dryish—though the food was a soggy lost cause. He cut his losses and decided to buy a sausage from the hotdog vendor, even if that meant he was down to $52.37 in his sock bank.

It was the most amazing thing he'd ever eaten in his entire life (sometimes he still dreams of it), and he gobbled it down as he sat in the grass and watched the show of people pass by.

He could take today off from his job search.

Just another Groundhog Day of rejections.

A gaggle of kids about his age walked past, and he lit up when he saw them: studs and bright hair and cuffs and combat boots. They ran and shrieked and shoved at each other, and Mary had never felt such longing to be a part of something.

Not that nebulous feeling of "my world is out there somewhere," but "my world is right there if I can just get to it."

And he realized maybe he could.

These were his people.

Mary hopped off the bench and approached the boisterous group.

"Uh, hey…guys."

The pack stopped and looked him over, confused but not hostile.

"Oh hey, man" said a girl with green fins and a studded, leather jacket.

"Hey."

I have nowhere to go. Can I go with you?

"Sorry, I forgot your name."

"Oh, you don’t—"

A guy in a tight striped shirt, snake bites, and blue hair interrupted him.

"Shit, were you in my intro into film class last year?"

Mary was a high school dropout.

"Nah, dude. I’m new and shit."

…But he wasn’t stupid.

A curvy white goth with bleached blonde hair and a cream princess dress smiled at him.

"Aww, that’s rough, honey. If you think about it, they really ought to give transfers on-campus housing. It sucks to be so new and away from the action."

Mary nodded. "Yeah. Sucks."

"Well, we’re going to The Pit, wanna come?"

"If you guys don’t mind…"

"Fuck, the more the merrier!"

Mary smiled as they assimilated him into the group. He found out the goth’s name was Vanessa ("But call me Vanity."), green fins was Alexa ("Or Alex. I’m trying it out."), striped shirt was Billy, and the two other punks were Mandi (Manic Panic red) and Aaron (band tee, spiked collar).

No one laughed at him when he introduced himself as Mary or asked him why he had a girl’s name.

They took him onto the T at Charles MGH, and Mary marveled at the setting sun over the Charles River before the train ducked underground to barrel in Cambridge. At Harvard, they ushered him off the train and directly into The Pit, and Mary almost cried when he saw the pit rats there playing hacky sack, strumming guitars, and smoking cloves. Mary watched as his group high-fived, bumped chests, and hugged nearly everyone there before introducing him as if they’d known him for years.

He was shit at hacky sack, but he accepted a round on the guitar and shared a clove with a white girl who had a rat's nest of hair.

"Fuck their beauty stands," she said when she caught Mary staring.

Mary smiled and pointed to his own mess of hair. "Fuck ‘em," he repeated.

She cackled and handed him a brown bag with what he expected to be whiskey, but tasted like turpentine.

She laughed harder at his face as he coughed, and she pounded him on the back.

"Moonshine, dude. Lenny makes it in his bathtub."

"Which one is Lenny," Mary asked as he wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Oh, he’s not here. He goes to MIT. We have a strict trade agreement—booze for pot. I’m Katie."

Head fuzzy, Mary had made out with her until Aaron tugged on his arm.

"Shit dude, we gotta go before the T closes. You live close to here?"

"Uh…"

"Aww, I think he got into Lenny’s moonshine," said Vanity. "If he’s a transfer, I bet he’s at some shithole in Allston. You in Allston, honey?"

Mary just nodded.

"All right then," said Alex, taking charge. "We’ll put him up tonight. There’s no way he’s gonna make it back to Allston by himself, and I’ll be fucked if I’m trekking out there without a BU party to crash."

Mary wobbled slightly as Alex took his arm in his and led him to the T.

"Ok, we gotta go now or we’ll all be hoofing it."

They took Mary back to their dorm by the Hatch Shell and signed him in as a guest.

"Is this ok?" Mary asked warily—he didn't want to get kicked out in the middle of the night.

Mandi patted him on the back.

"We do it all time. No one really gives a shit. Vegan Mick dropped out 2 semesters ago and they don’t even check for his ID."

That night, Mary slept in the common room on a lumpy couch that was half as long as he was.

It was heaven.

The next morning seemed like the end, and Mary slumped as Vanity to sign him out. For one brief day he'd been a part of something, and now it was back to Mary, party of one. But Vanity took one look at his face and asked if he wanted to get breakfast at the dining hall.

Of course, he wanted to…but he thought of the dwindling cash in sock bank and hesitated. Vanity, bless her, misread his trepidation.

"It's on me, sweetie. I know most transfers don’t opt in. Too expensive when it’s not bundled. No worries, I got a ton of points I don’t use."

Alex and Aaron were already half done with their food when Vanity and he joined them, and they looked on in amusement as Mary ate half the breakfast buffet.

When the subject of classes came up, he shrugged off questions.

"None this morning."

Alex narrowed her eyes at him.

"What year did you say you were?"

"Sophomore."

"Not a freshman?"

Mary shook his head. "I’m not a freshman."

She seemed about to ask another question, so Mary quickly changed the subject.

"I thought I’d spend the day applying for jobs. You guys know of any place that’s hiring?"

"No work study?"

"No."

"What kind of work you looking for?"

"Shit, anything. I’ll sweep the fucking floors."

They bandied about ideas, places for Mary to try, but no one had any leads. Too soon, some unknown gong had them scurrying to get to class.

Mary suddenly panicked.

"Hey, do you guys mind if I spend the night again? I mean…"

"Yeah, sure," said Vanity. "Aaron?"

"Yeah, man. Meet me after class and I'll swipe you in."

It apparently was a time-honored tradition, passed down from upperclassmen to underclassmen, on gaming the guest system. Most kids used it to essentially move their significant others into their dorm rooms, but a handful every year used it to give haven to others who had questionable housing situations.

So, just like that, Mary had a place to rest his bones.

@dilfpassing

A Deeper Look

I’m so intent on scrolling through the comments on the grainy pics—which I'm sure now are actual scans—that I completely miss my stop, and I have to put my phone away so I can wheeze lightly jog my way to where I work as a receptionist at an alternative hair salon.

It’s really important that I start a good hour before we open so I can return any calls left on our voicemail first thing in case I can fit anyone in today. Which means I have to shelve my find for now, much to my irritation.

Mornings are super-busy because apparently there are some people in the world that like getting up with the sun and want everything done by noon. (June Cleaver’s salon lets me get away with a lot—like coming to work in denim short-shorts and ripped tights, free hair colors, and a snarky attitude—but late start times aren’t one of them.) I honestly don’t have room in my brain to obsess about the pictures because I’m too busy answering calls, making coffee, settling accounts, and giving the new customer spiel for the 57th time to a walk-in.

It’s just after midday, when Penny, the shampoo girl, collects my cash for the salon-wide sandwich run, and I finally have a moment to breathe. And obsess.

I take out my phone again, and I have to retrace my steps because of course the app has refreshed, which is why Sonia has the time to look over my shoulder.

"Missing dream boy’s dick so much you gotta spend your lunch hour ogling pics of him on the internet?"

I zoom in on the one of maybe!Mary in his underwear.

"Who does that look like to you?"

Sonia makes a guh sound in her throat and backs away.

"I don’t need to see your intimates!"

"That’s the thing! It’s not mine!"

"Your boy’s nudes get leaked??"

I wave my arms around.

"I don’t freakin’ know! They may not even be him. Fucking. C’mere and help me out!"

Sonia warily creeps back over, and so does Ryan, since all the yelling has attracted him.

The three of us peer over the phone as I scroll through the images again.

By the time Penny comes back with lunch, we’ve gone back and forth on who’s in the images—Mary or a fake—and I haven’t been able to do any actual research. The afternoon rush starts, and I have to table the whole thing again, having made no progress at all.

It isn’t until near-closing, when most of the other stylists have gone home—and it’s only June who does the post-work crowd—that I can really dig into the matter.

A deep dive and a couple of defunct, decade-old forums later, I find that what I took as an aspirational hashtag was actually the name of a zine called "Heroes."

There’s like, zero online trail about it—except for a few other grainy scans of other pages of articles, poetry, concert pictures, and art—but it seemed to be an early aughts missive for local underground culture and color.

It still doesn’t explain why Mary’s in there in various states of undress and poses.

Or why Mary has never said a word about it to me.

Stripped Bare

Mary settled into a sort of routine. He spent most days looking for a job—any job—with his backpack full of food from their dining hall. Most nights he rotated couches on different floors so the RAs didn’t notice that he basically lived there.

He made friends with Vegan Mick for about 5 seconds until Mary had eaten an entire Rotisserie chicken from 7-11 in front of him. Mick had launched into a whole spiel, and Mary had pointed out that Mick's jacket and Docs were made of leather. He’d only meant it as a joke—a callout in answer to a callout, like he'd do with his friends back home—but Vegan Mick had turned purple, then iced Mary out every time he saw him after that.

Oops.

The brief friendship had lasted long enough, however, for Mick to give Mary some tips and tricks of being homeless.

Homeless.

That had been a tough pill to swallow. Until Vegan Mick had put Mary’s situation like that, Mary had just thought of himself between places.

But it was true: he didn’t live anywhere. He skated by on the kindness of his new friends, and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up the ruse of "transfer student who didn’t like his shithole apartment and was too busy job searching to concentrate on classes."

He still spent a few nights a week finding an out-of-the-way place outside to hunker down in or huddling in with Katie and a few of the other gutter punks under their boxes in the corners of the T stations. He knew they would have been more than happy to make room, anyway, but Mary always emptied his backpack of all the pilfered dining hall food for distribution amongst them.

It honestly wasn't so terrible now that he had friends and a warm place to go on cold or rainy nights, but.

He needed an actual place to live. To afford an actual place to live, he needed a job. To get a job, he needed a place to live.

It seemed like a catch-22, and he began to despair that he’d never get ahead…until Mandi offered him a leg up.

Mary was sitting on the grass in the Commons in the shade, thinking that with summer coming up, maybe he could fudge it until the gang came back in September. There was always Katie and The Pit, and Mary was sure he could chip in somehow.

Mandi sat down next to him.

"I thought that mess of hair was you, Mare."

"Hey, Mandi. What’s kicks?"

"You still looking for a job?"

Mary put his head in his hands and sighed.

"Don’t remind me."

"You over 18?"

Just last week. But Mary hadn’t said, since they thought he was a Sophomore.

"Yeah."

"Wanna be at least 21?"

Mary grinned at her.

"That’s what my fake ID says."

She laughed, a tinkling thing.

"You got anything against strip clubs?"

Mary furrowed his brows at her.

"Uh…what’s the right answer here?"

She shoved him playfully.

"Do you want a job?"

"Yeah?"

"Then say no."

"No. No problems with strip clubs." He squinted at her. "Are they looking for male strippers?"

She laughed again.

"Definitely not." She canted her head at Mary. "I mean, you're very pretty, Mare. I could probably put you on as one of the girls…even with these triple As," she flicked playfully at his nipple, which had him grunting and batting at her, "but I was thinking more behind the scenes."

Mary held up his arm and made a weak muscle.

"I don’t think I’d be much of a bouncer, Mands."

"You said you’d wash dishes, sweep floors and shit, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, the club I work at—"

"The club at you what now?"

Mandi gave him a strange look.

"Yeah. The strip club I work at."

Mary’s eyes bugged out.

"As a��waitress?"

"As a stripper, Mary. Duh." At his dumbfounded look she shook her head. "It’s kind of extra credit, as a dance major. I’m going to turn it into my thesis. Plus, I make hella bank."

She swept her arm across the park that made up her college "campus."

"How else do you think I can afford this rock-and-roll lifestyle? Not all of us are here on scholarship or mom and dad’s dime."

She tilted her head at him.

"I thought you’d get it."

When Mary didn't respond, she touched his shoulder.

"Mare. I know you don't go here."

"W-what…? I…"

He looked at her, wide-eyed as the blood drained from his face.

"Hey, it's ok. I'm not gonna tell anybody. Not if you don't want me to."

Mary looked down. "Thanks." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You know that means I've got no address."

Mandi bumped his shoulder and waved his words away.

"A lot of the girls dance. Paddy is used to dorm rooms as addresses. You can use mine."

Mary looked at her, hoping he could convey every ounce of gratitude he was feeling.

She grinned and punched him in the shoulder.

"So, you up for it? Sweeping floors and bussing tables?" She leveled a look at him. "Cleaning up puke?"

Anything.

"Fuck, I’m desperate, Mands. I’ll hold their hair back if it means a paycheck."

"That’s the spirit!"

***

Mary was sure Patrick was part of the mob—or at least in cahoots. The guy had taken one look at Mary’s ID and had said, "But how old are you really?" and Mary had said, "Nineteen."

Patrick had thrown up his hands. "Well, you ain’t gonna be serving alcohol anyway, kid. Your job is to do whatever I tell you. Some asshole breaks a bottle, you clean up the glass so the girls don’t hurt themselves. Some idiot ralphs all over the toilet seat, you scrub the shit out of that fucker. A bachelor party leaves a table a hot mess, you better be out there clearing off the table for the next one, got it?"

Mary had nodded.

"You show up at 5 to help the girls set up the bar. You stay til whenever it takes to close down—but you only get paid 'til 2am—and you get an hour to eat, unpaid. You don’t bother the girls, and," Patrick had leaned in, "you don’t steal from me."

Mary had gulped and nodded emphatically.

Patrick had jabbed a finger at him. "That includes the booze. If I get fucked because some snot-nosed, underage kid is drinking with my good friends Jim and Johnnie, I’m gonna be very put out."

"Got it, sir."

"Don’t call me sir. I’m Paddy to my friends, so you can call me Patrick."

"Yes, Patrick."

Patrick had looked him over.

"You get paid as an independent contractor just like the girls, so you gotta deal with your own taxes, you got that? I’ll start you at $10 an hour."

Mary’s eyes had gone wide. Back home he was lucky to get 5.

"Ten…?"

Patrick had tilted his head again.

"No, you’re right, 12. Do a good job, and I’ll think about raising it to 15."

Mary had to physically stop his jaw from dropping.

"You do weeknights for now so if you fuck up it’s not that much of a problem. If you don’t fuck up and the girls don’t hate you, you can get weekends. Deal?"

Mary had sat up straighter. "Deal." He’d held his hand out, but Patrick had just looked at it until Mary pulled it back into his side.

"Ariel vouched for you, so I’m giving you a shot. Don’t make her regret it."

Mary had shaken his head as Patrick had handed him some forms to fill out.

"Come back at 4 tomorrow with these and we’ll get you started. Now, get out, I got shit to do."

Mary had taken the forms and skedaddled.

Mandi was outside waiting for him, all smiles.

"Did you get it?"

"Yeah, but fuck—your boss is scary."

"Nah, he’s a teddy bear."

***

The job was awful.

The puke was an almost nightly occurrence, and by the end of the first week, little cuts covered Mary’s hands from the broken glass. The customers were loud, rowdy, and acted as if their mother was going to clean up after them.

Mary swore he would never get the beer smell out. It now lived in his soul.

One dude punched Mary and broke his nose for no reason Mary could tell before the bouncers dragged the guy away. The girls gave him some tampons to stop the bleeding, and Mary finished his shift.

Patrick paid Mary in cash at the end of every week with a "It’s your job to report that, not mine," and at the end of the month, Patrick bumped Mary up to $15/hr. He worked 5 days a week because, according to Patrick, "The Lord gave us a day of rest, and you get one day off per week."

Mary never reported a single cent to the IRS.

The girls loved him, and joked that Patrick had gotten them a pet. They showed him winged eyeliner and smokey eyes and how to contour. They guffawed when they watched him try out their shoes like a newborn deer. On slow nights, they tried to show him pole techniques.

He saw the gang less and less because by the time they were getting out of class, he was going into work, and when he was done work, they were crawling into bed. Fortunately, the desk sitters seemed to forget that he wasn’t an on-campus "student" and didn’t even bother signing him in anymore. There were a few sticklers, but Mary found that—while back home he was less than scum—here, he attracted all the right kinds of attention…and a smirk with the right compliment went a long way.

By the time their school year ended, Mary had saved up $1,000 (and he needed to transfer his money out of sock bank and into the ripped lining of his jacket).

Even though they didn't know just how much they'd saved him, Mary showed up on the last day as thanks to help them all move their stuff into family cars or rented trucks. They hugged him goodbye and said to ring them next semester.

Mandi bopped him on the nose and told him to keep his nose clean.

Mary took a sublet in Allston with 2 BU kids and a Berkley grad student. The "room" was a closed-in porch with a sleeping bag left by the last resident—but it was $400 a month until September, utilities included.

At first, Mary didn't know why the gang was so snobby about Allston, but the summer seemed to be one continual party. It didn't matter what day Mary got up, there were always broken beer bottles and stale beer on their front stoop, and the apartment had a designated watering can for washing away the vomit that dripped down from the top porches to their own.

But he took it in stride, and when he wasn’t at the strip club or sleeping, he was partying with the BU kids, or letting the Berkley grad show him better string fingering techniques.

Mary still tried to get out to The Pit with what groceries he could spare, but Katie had moved on with some of the others to do a protest tour with an activist street band that had come through town, and without her or the gang, it made Mary feel lonely.

By the end of the summer, Mary had saved up enough money for first, last, and security. He even had some left over to buy more than ramen and some new clothes. To Mary, it felt like a million dollars. He rented a garden-level apartment in the cheap part of Jamaica Plain for September 1st and spent that entire day with the BU dudes driving around in their rented truck for Allston Christmas’s best furniture finds.

Mary ended up with a mattress that he hoped on a wish and a prayer didn’t have bedbugs, a mismatched set of dishes, plastic drawers that were slightly warped, and a broken futon frame he swore he would fix. Throw in a few sets of slightly used string lights, and Mary’s cave felt downright homey.

When the gang got back, he simply told them he’d dropped out.

"Yeah, I just don’t think college is for me. Music’s my real passion, you know?"

Alex had groaned.

"I knew that Berkley kid was gonna be a bad influence on you."

Mary shrugged.

"My grades were shit anyway. But I’m still around, you know. The strip club’s only a block from campus."

"Because we saw you so much then," deadpanned Billy.

"Hey! Stop piling on Mary," said Vanity. "He’s following his path."

Mary shot her a wide smile.

"Thanks, Vanity."

Patrick finally gave him a little more leeway with his days off, and Mary started taking Saturday night to join the gang in Harvard Square for the shadow cast of Rocky Horror. One of Aaron’s classmates, Amber, was in it, and they all wanted to support her.

Mary felt that something again. That thing that told that this was his place and his people. This eclectic group who got up in front of strangers every week in their underwear for free enthralled Mary.

He and Amber bonded immediately, and Mary began going even without the gang. The cast welcomed him in as an honorary groupie, and Mary's friendship with the gang waned. There was still Mandi to cavort with at the strip club, but now when Mary wasn't there, he was at any one of the Rocky crew's apartments getting high and playing dress up.

"You’ve got such a Look, Mare," sighed Amber. "I’d kill for your cheekbones."

"I’d kill for your tits."

She slapped him playfully. "Don’t be gross."

"No, I’m serious. Someone once put it in my head that I'd be a hot chick."

The girls had giggled and proceeded to dress him up in bras and corsets with cutlets. They added a wig, and the glo-up surprised even Mary.

Still buzzed, they went out for girl’s night and hit up all the bars in Fenway and flirted their way to free shots from the dude bros before batting their falsies at bouncers to let them into the clubs ahead of the line and without the cover.

The cutlets eventually became a nuisance—and soon they were all flapping them about above their heads as they danced—but Mary had loved the feel of the lace and satin corsets against his skin.

When they’d all collapsed in a pile at the end of the night, Mary wondered if they’d tell him where to get some lingerie for himself.

***

By August, Mary was ready to quit the strip club.

He was tired of cut fingers (they were making it hard to play the guitar he’d bought), the drunks, and the sick everywhere. Now that he had a little cushion, he thought maybe he could at least find something with better hours.

Mandi had graduated and was well into a summer internship at Disney in hopes they’d bring her on as a dancer.

Alex had also graduated and moved out to LA to make it as a film editor.

Vanity and Aaron had started dating after finals, and they had moved in together in Cambridgeport for their last year.

Billy had stopped going to classes before dropping out altogether. No one seemed to know what happened, and when they called his home, his mother just said he was unavailable.

There didn’t seem to be much reason to stick around the Grid anymore, and it was a bitch of a commute back to his place if he wasn’t going to hang out with the Rocky crew. He landed a job at a record store that was walking distance to his apartment.

Patrick seemed surprisingly sad to see him go, saying, "Ah, the good ones smart up," and gave him a $500 bonus for not "fucking up."

Tim, one of the older Rocky people, turned out to not live too far from him, and when Mary started hanging out there, so did the party.

Now that Mary was no longer shackled by the strip club’s hours, his world opened a few more degrees. He spent his nights dressing up while he watched the cast rehearse. (When he showed them a move or two he learned from the women at the club, they tried to get him to do a guest star as Frank. But Mary had shaken his head and said that wasn’t the kind of performing he wanted to do.)

When they weren't rehearsing, they dragged Mary to TT The Bear’s, The Middle East, and The Milky Way Lounge for underground shows. They took him to fetish night at ManRay after a trip to Hubba Hubba for pleather and lingerie, and Mary made a lot of new friends.

Sometimes, Mary would show up to work straight off a night out in his club clothes, eyeliner smudged and lipstick smeared. It should have got him fired, but his boss just shrugged.

"I used to keep rockstar hours too."

Mary still wore all his old vestiges—his battle vest and his ripped jeans—it was just that now he sometimes added a corset and heels.

Wherever Katie was now, he hoped she knew he was still fucking their beauty standards.

ry.omen Insta

Answer Me This

I practically vibrate the entire way back to our place. I'm still trying to wring information out of the internet like it's too-wet clothes, but the only thing I accomplish is making myself motion sick on the bus, so I put my phone back in my pocket and breath through my nose.

When I get home, Mary is sprawled across the couch in his pjs with various limbs hanging over sides and edges as he watches some extreme sport show on my laptop.

I wonder if he just got up, but I see the start of dinner on the stove, so I decide not to snark at him.

"Hey," he says without looking up.

I am, however, gonna need some answers on "Heroes."

I gently close the laptop, and he meets my eyes.

"What?"

I climb onto the couch, and Mary’s limbs recede like vines to make room for me as I scroll through my phone to my photo app where I’ve saved screenshots.

"Lucy," I say in a terrible accent, "you have some ‘splaining to do!"

Mary squints at me and takes my phone, his expression morphing into one of surprise.

"Shit, babe. Where’d ya find these??"

"So they are you!"

He chuckles.

"Christ…I haven't thought about these in fucking years."

"Mind telling me what the fuck?" I ask, my hands on my hips.

I'm only half joking.

Mary grimaces at me.

"Ah."

"I'm gonna need more than that, mister."

He rubs the back of his neck.

"Fuck, you know those were hard times for me."

I know about his family, the homelessness. I know he tried out a lot until he found a life that fit. He'd given me the overviews with occasional anecdotes filled with names I never remembered.

But none of them included naughty pictures.

I worm my way under his arm.

"Yeah, I know, Mare."

His hand strokes down my arm.

"I mean, shit. I was kinda an asshole, you know?"

I wrap an arm around his chest.

"You're still kind of an asshole, Goore."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

When he doesn't say more, I poke him hard in the side.

"I’m literally dying here."

He laughs a little.

"Fine. But you gotta remember you asked."

Model Behavior

One day, Mary was walking down the street on his way to drinks with the new friends he'd made the weekend before. It was a good day. He wasn’t hungover as fuck, his makeup was only smudged artfully, and he was pretty sure he was going to get laid.

A guy in a leather jacket and tight jeans maybe a few years older than Mary stopped him on the street.

"Hey, man! I love your style."

Mary batted his eyelashes at him. "Thanks, dude."

"You ever think of dark modeling?"

Mary squinted his eyes at him.

"Dark what now?"

"You know—modeling but like," he gestured up and down Mary’s form, "for dark beauties. Show the world beauty isn’t cookie cutter."

"For like what? A website or some shit?"

The guy dug into his pocket, pulled out a card case, and handed one to Mary.

Heroes Greg Karson, Photographer/Web Design Butera School of Art

Actually, Mary had heard of this. It was a zine about the local happenings around town—concerts, art shows, parties, etc. There was a stack of them next to "Rrriot!" in the record shop. He’d flipped through one occasionally, mostly interested in the band reviews.

"We’re really on the lookout for anyone with the right look. You know, wear stuff you already own."

"So like a street fashion spread?"

"Well, we might do a little more with it, but—you know how it is. Most of the budget goes toward printing costs."

Mary perked up.

"Would I be paid?"

Greg laughed.

"Peanuts, my dude. But yeah. Even if it’s a T token. You interested, then?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Mind if I take a few test shots."

Mary smirked at Greg.

"How do you want me?"

"Just natural."

Putting his hands in his pockets, Mary arched his back and gave Greg his best snotty hipster face.

Greg dug out a digital camera from his carrying case and took a dozen or so pictures of Mary from different angles while telling him to turn this way or that.

Afterwards, the two of them huddled over the camera and scrolled through the shots.

"Aw yeah, this one. I love the attitude. The guys are gonna love it. You have a number where we can reach you?"

Mary gave him the number of the record shop. (His apartment had a phone, but he’d never gotten around to wanting to pay for service.)

Later, he and Amber looked up the Angelfire website on the back of the card. It was one page that contained the mission statement, bios of the creators, and locations to pick up the zine.

"Omigod—you’re gonna become a famous model, Mare!"

"Yeah, right. You know most of it ends up in the trash, right?"

But when Ben called, Mary said he was game. He directed Mary to a co-op in a converted warehouse in Dorchester, and Mary brought his favorite clothes in a borrowed duffle.

A girl in cat pajamas opened the door and pointed at a set of metal stairs with her cereal spoon.

On the second floor, Mary found Greg setting up a makeshift studio. A girl with multiple piercings and yarn dreads leaned against the wall in her black babydoll dress.

Mary sidled up to her.

"You here to model, too?"

She gave him an unimpressed once-over.

"I’m the art director, asshole."

Mary flushed hard as she turned to Greg.

"Couldn’t find one with brains?"

She turned back to Mary.

"I don’t know if you thought this would be a good way to meet chicks or what, dude. But I’m letting you know right now that I’m here on my day off to make sure this adheres to our aesthetic, so if you're not serious, fuck off."

Mary rubbed the back of his neck.

"Shit, sorry. I was expecting a dude named Ben."

She waved her hand in the air as if dispelling Ben.

"The Bens are morons. Good idea, terrible execution. I’m here to make sure we remain true to the idea of 'Heroes,' so don’t fuck up my shoot." She gave him a once over. "Christ. You have any experience?"

Greg turned from where he was testing the white balance.

"Angelique, stop harassing the talent. We get it, you have a degree from RISD."

Angelique snorted.

"As if I don't hear you going on and on about being a professional photographer. 'Hey, lemme shoot your portfolio, baby.' Whatever. As if we're not your only professional credit."

"Hey—you wanted a photographer for peanuts? You got me. You wanted models for peanuts? You got him."

Mary gave her his full snaggle-toothed grin.

"I take T tokens."

Angelique sighed, then pasted on a smile.

"Hi! So happy you’re here!" Her smile drooped. "You got your wardrobe in there?"

"Yeah."

Mary handed her the duffle, and she handed him release forms.

"Here: sign these"

She pawed through his offerings.

"Not bad, not bad." She pulled out a corset and his heeled boots. "We'll keep you in your jeans and have you wear your jacket over your corset. Cool?"

Cool.

The shoot was as professional as a shoot in a warehouse in what Mary was taking to usually be a living room could be. Angelique directed Greg with what she wanted. Greg called out positions and expressions for Mary to pose in.

It was surprisingly hard work, and by the end of a solid hour, his smirking lip was getting tired. Angelique and Greg scrolled through the shots, murmuring to themselves and nodding.

Mary waited—greeting at the other inhabitants as they squeezed by on their way either up or down—until Angelique approached him.

"That’ll do. You mind if we post on our website?"

Mary preened.

"Yeah, that’s kosher."

She handed him a pen and pocket notebook.

"Write down a quick bio."

He scribbled down a quick elevator pitch

Into general skulking and metal \m/

and handed the notebook back to her.

"Great, thanks."

She handed him a $20 bill, her eyes skimming him up and down.

"Next time we should show off those hip bones. Just jeans, I think."

Mary perked up. "Next time?"

"We’ll call you."

***

"Omigod, omigod!"

Amber perched on the record store counter, flipping through "Heroes," as Jon peered over her shoulder.

"Mary…look at you!"

Mary tried to swallow his smug smile.

Failed.

"Yeah. I’m hot shit, ain’t I?"

She bopped him on the nose with the newsprint.

"Don’t be vain."

He showed her his toothy smile.

"I like to think of it as confidence."

"So did Icarus."

Mary snorted and went back to putting prices on the new CDs.

"The camera loves you," said Jon, who was always quiet and reserved as you please…until he put on Frank’s corset and heels.

Mary had tried flirting with him, but Jon always ducked his head and played it off.

"Thanks, man," said Mary, giving him a softer smile.

"So??"

"So what, Amber?"

"Are you gonna do it again?"

Mary shrugged.

"I mean, if they call me, sure."

But he was kind of hoping they would.

When the next issue came out weeks later, Mary stared at the cybergoth on the pages and felt himself deflate. Listlessly, he thumbed through the delicate print, barely skimming the section devoted to the World/Inferno Friendship Society’s set he’d been at the week before.

He set it down with a sigh before he picked up his guitar and plucked out a tune he was trying to coax into a riff.

By the time a Ben called again, Mary had given up the modeling thing as a one-off.

"Hey, dude—thought maybe you guys forgot about me," Mary said in a teasing tone.

The Ben on the other end chuckled.

"It’s like herding cats to get shit out. Nah, dude—we definitely want you to be one of our regulars. You in for next Saturday?"

He was.

***

Over the course of a year, "Heroes" had Mary come out multiple times for shoots. Mainly, Mary wore his own clothes and did his own makeup, but occasionally, Angelique wanted something specific.

"How comfortable are you with boudoir shots?"

"With what?"

"Like a pinup, but more…saucy than sexy."

I'd pose nude if you paid me enough.

(Sure, he was a noodle boy, but he knew he had the goods.)

"Yeah, I’m cool with that."

Angelique brightened at him.

"Great!"

She picked up a set of complicated leather garters and thrust them at him.

"Put these on."

Mary had only ever worn lace garters—mostly out to clubs, but occasionally under his ripped jeans for an extra pop—but he found he liked these even more, liked the way they emphasized his thighs.

"Hey—where’d you get these…?"

(He was already thinking of what he could pair them with for goth night.)

"Local leatherworker. He mostly does pieces for Renn Fairs, but he'll also do custom. I can give you his info."

She led Mary into what was clearly someone's bedroom.

"Don't fuck anything up, or Joye will never let us use this again."

Mary shot her his best shark smile.

"Hey, I only mess up the sheets if someone asks."

Angelique gave him a flat look and called for Greg.

(But when he draped himself over the bed and told Greg to "Paint me like one of your French girls," Mary could have sworn she almost smiled.)

On one memorable occasion, she brought in a guy whose rope bondage demo she watched at a sex convention.

"Put on some of that lingerie and we'll truss you up. You ok with that, Goore?"

Mary ran his fingers over the coils and gave her a wolfish smile.

"You know I'm game for anything."

She gave him a vulpine smile of her own then, and she looked down at him from the height of her platformed boots.

"Good. I thought you should be submissive for once."

Mary had no witty rejoinder for that.

He listened with interest as the guy carefully explained what he was going to do, complete with pictures, and he relaxed easily into the process. (They put bunny ears on him, and it would be much, much later that he got that particular joke. Well played, Angelique.)

The ropes hadn’t let him do much posing, but Mary had kind of liked the constriction, and his thoughts were already on asking Amber to help him create a more versatile version for fetish night.

He’d left that day with a new kink…and the guy’s number.

"Why not just do one big shoot?" he asked another time. "Get it all done in one big bang!"

Angelique held up his garments to eyeball over him.

"Honey, we never even know if there's gonna be a next issue. The Bens spend most of the time arguing. My god you should hear them—Ben bankrolls the whole thing, so he says he should get final say on shit, and Benji wants total artistic control because it was his idea, because 'he's the graphic designer', and because it's his Kinko's employee discount they use."

She gave Mary a curled-lip smile as she tossed a few items at him.

"In the end it's this bitch you're looking at who gets shit done."

Mary began to change (they were long past modesty).

"How'd you get involved?"

"Went to school with Benji."

"Ben too?"

"Neg. The Bens are childhood friends. Ben works some cushy start-up job, so Benji lets him bankroll them both. Rent, utilities—everything. I love Benji to death, but he's a giant mooch."

"Shit, that must be nice."

Angelique shrugged. She stood back to appraise Mary's look.

"It's fucking lame. But it least it gets us fucking paid."

Mary didn't say I'd do this for free. Instead, he struck a pose and said, "I'm just happy for the exposure."

Angelique rolled her eyes and went to fetch Greg.

***

That year and a half would become a nonstop party with Mary as one of the VIPs; he wouldn't say no to anything—be it casual sex, club appearances, or whatever drug the current pretty thing was offering him in the bathroom.

But recognition started slow.

At first, it was customers who would leaf through the zine and recognize Mary.

Then, it was the occasional scenester who’d stop him on the street in JP as he walked about, and Mary would pose for grainy cell phone pics.

Soon, he was being approached at shows and clubs. The first time it happened, Mary was high off his new infamy and ready to please. A woman in a black bandage bra and pleated skirt with bondage straps approached him, and Mary was already thinking of what he could do with those.

"You look like that guy in ‘Heroes’!" she'd shouted to him over the music.

Mary had flashed her a crooked smile and leaned in.

"Maybe I am the guy in ‘Heroes’."

She'd given him an exaggerated once over before sidling closer with hooded eyes.

"I dunno…you're wearing way more clothes."

Mary had pulled his mesh top down by the collar in a tease as he'd curled over her.

"Take me somewhere more private and I’ll let you do a comparison."

She'd compared him all night.

And that was before he and the other "Heroes" models formed their own posse.

The Bens had thrown a BBQ and had invited everyone they'd ever met. There were people packed into their little 2 bedroom in Brighton, spilling down the back stairs, and equally packed into the little square of shared backyard. Ben had taken the 12-pack of 'Gansett beers Mary had brought, then introduced him to the other dark models.

"Now you're all here!" said Ben. He slung his arm around Mary. "Guys, this is Mary. Mary this is Mayhem, Lesley, Lola, and Bryan."

Mayhem was a rivethead, and Mary took to him instantly, but he was wary of the others. Lesley was the cybergoth who'd been in the first issue after him, and Mary still felt a bit salty at them, even though Mary knew by now the Bens rotated the models. Lola, the romantic goth, reminded him enough of Vanity that he felt guilty for losing touch with her and had him projecting a little. Bryan was a metalhead, so: competition.

Mary had thought they'd get along like cats and water, but weed, booze, and "Never Have I Ever" went a long way to creating a shared bond.

And there it was again. That pull. The magnetic force telling him that he'd found the place he was supposed to be. They quickly coalesced into their own pack, calling themselves the "Deathbutantes" (because they always killed it when they debuted for the night).

It had been rare for Mary to miss Friday and Saturday night shenanigans with the Rocky crew, but now, every night was Friday night. There was always a show or a concert or club that one of them knew about—and if they couldn't get lucky with the local color, they'd just go home with each other.

Mayhem taught Mary what Lola jokingly called the "grab a bat" dance, and the two of them cut quite the picture on the dance floors.

Lesley took to Lola, and the two of them could always be counted on for scintillating conversation in dark corners when Mary's limbst needed a break from flailing about.

The clubs weren't really Bryan's scene—take him to a sticky hole in the wall with concrete floors and a stage close enough to feel the sweat from the bands, and he was in heaven—but he liked to come along to hang. He'd drink PBRs, rub Lola's feet when she invariably abandoned her heels for the evening, and argue with Mary about the purity of death metal.

Mayhem and Lola weren't really into live music of the screaming kind, so—while Lesley, Bryan, and Mary bounced off each other in the mosh pits—they'd save a "home" base at one the bartops.

Amber noticed Mary's diminishing presence and stopped by the record shop to call him out.

"So you're not dead! Could've fooled me."

Mary was organizing the albums into order, and he grunted at her.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm a cad. I'll make it up to you."

"You missed game night."

"Sorry. Jethro Tull played some tiny venue in nowhere Mass, and Bryan was salivating. I mean, Jethro Tull. Can you blame me?"

He looked at her, arms out wide in supplication. But she just blinked at him.

"You have no idea who Jethro Tull is, do you?"

"Sorry, dude. But christ, Mare. You should have invited me. I'd've gone. Maybe I would have even liked them. Now you'll never know."

"I could just lend you an album."

"Nope! The moment passed. Too late!"

Mary riffled through the stock and shoved a Jethro Tull CD into her hands.

She tapped it against her thigh.

"So, when do I get to hang?"

"I can get us into 80s night free."

"No, I mean, with your cooler friends. Your 'murder models', or whatever."

"You wanna hang out with the Deathbutantes?"

Amber scrunched her nose.

"That's so fucking pretentious."

Mary kind of liked it.

"Dunno if they're really your scene."

"Oh? And what's my scene?"

"Musical theater on crack."

She mock gasped at him, "Called out!" before smacking him with the CD. "Whatever. You love musical theater on crack."

Mary draped his arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah, I do. But I don't live it, you know? You guys have your niche—and fuck…I love to visit—but it's not mine."

Amber looked up at him, her expression serious.

"So the Dumbutantes are your niche?"

Mary shrugged and went back to shelving.

The Rocky crew had been good to him. They'd taken him under their wing, no questions asked, and helped him realize things about himself. Tim had taken him to the ER when Mary had come down with a serious case of the flu. Matty had taught him the basics of sewing. Gretchen had held him after a bad trip. Omar and he had had many drunken heart-to-hearts about their shitty home lives.

And Amber was his best friend. She'd been his #1 cheerleader for years and had never been afraid to call him out on his shit.

So yeah, he loved the Rocky crew…but they laughed at anyone who took anything too seriously. Mary would show up to game nights in his latest creation—with everyone else in pjs or jeans & hoodies—and they'd tease him about trying to impress the wrong people. He'd try to talk about the newest guitar god he'd been mainlining, and they'd make snoring noises at him.

How could he explain the kinship he felt with the Deathbutantes? That they were as serious about music as he was, that they just…got why he felt the need to dress the way he did to express the way he felt inside on his outside.

Instead, he said, "I'm just trying shit out, Ambs." He quirked his eyebrow at her. "I gotta do something while you guys do your real-person jobs."

(Amber had recently started as a junior marketing assistant at the American Repertory Theater. "Purely mercenary," she'd said. "Maybe it'll give me a leg up during auditions.")

She made a disgruntled scoffing noise in the back of her throat.

"Fuck, don't remind me. I actually gotta go to bed a reasonable hour now."

"Don't worry." Mary winked at her. "I'll keep ya honest."

"That sounds a lot like my head in a toilet, Mare."

"I'll hold your hair back."

She gave him a good-natured shove, and he pretended to cower.

If she wanted to cross pollinate, who was Mary to stand in her way? So, he invited her out the next time the Deathbutantes went to a show, and it went exactly like he thought it would.

They disliked her, and she was equally unimpressed. They thought she was too loud and frenetic, and she thought they had no sense of humor.

"I fucking told you," Mary had snorted as they sat on the curb sharing a clove.

"Shut the fuck up, Mare."

But she'd put her head on his shoulder.

"They make you happy, though. So I guess I approve. Just as long as I don't have to play nice."

Mary still hung out with the Rocky crew—there were still game nights and drug-fueled sex parties and theater games—but the Deathbutantes introduced him to the underground scene. They always seemed to have insider knowledge about the best up-in-coming bands and the secret shows. Theme nights at the goth clubs were always a must, and they rarely missed one. Sometimes, Angelique would crash, and they'd take the commuter rail to Providence to party at Club Hell before collapsing in a sweaty, smeary pile at a friend of a friend's hole in the wall.

As a bit player in the Rocky crew, Mary had been another made-up face in the crowd. As a certified member of the Deathbutantes, Mary became the face.

They all did.

The owners loved them because they bought round after round at the bar, and if word got out that the Deathbutantes were there, their admirers came to spend money as well. The employees loved them because they were fun and talked to them as equals. The clientele loved them because they were pretty young things.

Sometimes, though, Mary wasn't in the mood to party or get laid, so he talked to the DJs instead. He'd buy them rounds and stay past closing to help them pack up while they talked about the history of punk and 80s new wave and nu metal. There was one in particular, Dave, that Mary even considered a friend.

The two of them would sit in the club past closing, sharing a whiskey and talking about life while the bartenders closed down and cashed out. Occasionally, Dave's other friends would be around, and they'd all walk back to his place; he'd fool around spinning in his home studio, and they'd drink box wine as they danced and laughed before Mary would have to sit on the ground in an intoxicated exhaustion, good for only thumbing through Dave's vinyl collection.

Mary was just happy to talk shop with another music aficionado, but Angelique had pointed out that he should leverage his minor clout.

They'd been waiting for Greg to finish setting up, and Mary had been struggle city after a particularly hard night out. It was all he could manage to sit there quietly and hope some god would put him out of his misery.

"You need to get your shit together," Angelique had said out of nowhere.

Mary had cracked a puffy eye and had slowly (as to not bring the nothing in his stomach back up) turned his head to her.

"As if I haven't seen your melted ass on the floor wanting to die."

"Fuck, Mary. You've turned it into an art form."

He'd closed his eyes and given her the finger, but that hadn't stopped her.

"You wanna be a rockstar, boy? You can't just sit on your ass and hope the right person on the right night hears you. You're effervescent and charismatic—heads turn when you walk into a room and not just because of your skinny jeans—but you need more than air, Mary, which is all you are right now."

"Fuck you, Angela."

She'd clapped in front of his face, and she was lucky he didn't Exorcist bile all over her.

"You're a fucking pain in my ass, Goore. I'm doling out the good stuff, try not to bite my hand off, k?"

"All right, all right!"

"You wanna start that band? You wanna get play and amass fans? Well, make that demo you're always droning on about and give it to those DJs you're alway fanboying over. Fucking network, Goore."

At the time, Mary had been too hungover to care, but her advice would sink in…

Eventually.

For the time being, Mary was content. He loved the attention, and it made him feel invincible, made him feel like it was finally His Time. And he was going to make up for every slight, every unfair situation, and every beat down with sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll.

With his newfound nightlife, Mary's day job had become an afterthought. He started sleeping through opening shifts, but with the extra foot traffic Mary brought to the store, his boss seemed resigned to let Mary slide (after a stern talking to and a pay docking).

The shadow cast had started using him as a mascot of sorts, and he was happy to show up on Saturday nights and hype up the waiting line with a pseudo striptease. (Even if it was sometimes to kick off his evening with the Deathbutantes and not hang with the cast after.)

Mary started a band ("auditioning" any and all of the many admirers who said they’d be more than happy to join it), and after a few false starts and a couple of lineup changes, they began working on an EP. (At least, when Mary showed up to rehearsal, they did.)

A Boston Phoenix reporter got wind of the Deathbutantes and called around about doing a story on them. The Bens were excited about the exposure that meant for their zine, and Angelique and Greg were excited about what it could mean for their careers. Mary did a brief interview over the phone where he answered questions about his style and talked about his dream of making his band a household name.

Mary saw his name up in lights, and he was reaching for it, full speed ahead.

But then things turned.

The story fell through at the last minute with no further explanation or contact by the reporter.

His boss finally fired him after Mary showed up too high to function too many times—or not at all.

The shadow cast had a turnover, and suddenly he was old news—a cringey hanger-on.

A trip to the clinic and a round of antibiotics for an STI had him way more wary of who he hooked up with.

"Heroes" lost momentum when imitators popped up and Ben cut off the gravy train.

Angelique moved to NYC for "better opportunities," and the Bens took their brand of counterculture to Portland, OR.

Greg took down the website when he got offered a legit job as an apprentice at a food magazine, and that was that.

The physical zines were cheap things, most ending up papering the sidewalk after trash day or lining the bottom of cages. Without the online presence, did Mary's "modeling career" even exist?

Mary was a little sad to see the era go, but when he woke up in Maine on the hood of some girl's car and only a hazy recollection of how they'd gotten there, he was beginning to see Angelique's point. He needed to get his shit together if he was ever going to become a rockstar. And frankly, he kind of felt like he needed to spend an entire month eating carrots and hydrating.

The 24/7 party had always been an ephemeral thing; it had been sand passing through his hands in a finite amount as he'd tried to hold onto it

He put himself on detox, and waking up sober for the first time in months felt like a revelation. And as it turned out, playing the guitar without badly shaking hands was way, way easier.

He found another job in another music store, and his starter!band was bringing butts into the smaller venues, like Toad.

He still had his old Rocky friends and the Deathbutantes. The club and venue owners still let him in for free, and Dave was always happy to give his demos a spin. By anyone's else's measure, he was steal one of the scene's darlings.

But Mary was beginning to realize that he needed to stop seeing himself as that scared kid who’d arrived in Boston 4 years ago with only a backpack, $72.57 to his name, and void where his family should be.

He needed to stop finding people to please into loving him.

Instead, he needed to live for himself and let them love him for who he was—fuck ups and all.

@slimylayne

Epilogue

"Honestly, that’s probably the reason I even got a band together," he says. "I was still kind of shit at guitar, but people came to see ‘Model Mary’ perform in his underwear."

He shoots me a smirk.

"I’m sure there’re pictures out there of me looking more glam than metal. I kind of played up the whole pinup thing for a while."

"Fuck, I would kill, literally kill to see that."

He pulls me into his lap until I’m straddling him.

"I could open up my underwear drawer and show you right now."

"Goore, you temptress."

I lean down to kiss him, and his hands sneak under my shirt, but I pull away again.

"I kinda thought I knew all your torrid secrets by now. Shit, how come Dave's never needled you about it?"

After 2 years with him, I’m surprised I hadn't even heard a peep from his oldest friend.

Mary snorts.

"Dave would miss shit hanging off his nose. Great dude, amiable as fuck, but he's always had fucking tunnel vision for his music."

I smirk at him.

"Sounds like someone else I know."

Mary pulls a face at me, and I apply kisses to every line until he laughs and bats me away.

"But really, Mare—how come you never told me about your brief career in blue steel?"

He blows out a breath, his hands smoothing up my thighs.

"Fuck. Cuz maybe I was a little embarrassed at how off the rails I was then, ok? Didn't want you to know what I fuck up I was." He takes my hand and kisses my palm. "And even I know it's a shit move to pitch woo at someone by telling them about banging half of Boston."

I make a face at him, and he laughs.

"Yeah, that’s what I thought."

His hands rest on my waist.

"Christ, everything about that year's a bit fuzzy, and it was like 10 years ago. Sometimes it feels like it happened to someone else, honestly. And shit—most of those people aren’t even around anymore. College kids who moved on and 20-somethings that grew up and moved who knows where. I used to watch Amber have—what is it when it’s four people?—and now she lives in bumblefuck Pennsylvania with 3 kids. After she left, I just kinda drifted away from all that."

He shrugs, his eyes downcast.

"I’m sorry, Mare," I say as I smooth his eyebrows.

He shrugs again.

"I mean, we all kinda keep in touch. It's like the only reason I have Facebook."

"When was the last time you even signed into that?"

Mary grins at me.

"Lola's birthday."

"One of the models? What happened with them?"

Mary bites his lip and thinks.

"Mayhem found religion after an OD and kinda ghosted everyone. Lesley followed a girl to New Hampshire. Uh…Lola pursued a PhD for something sciencey involving renewable energy with sugar beets in Idaho, and Bryan moved back to Florida to care for his grandma, who raised him."

Mary leans his head back on the couch and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"I mean, shit. We were fucking babies back then. Head empty except for a good time and unlimited potential."

I run my fingers through his hair.

"You miss it?"

His eyes pop open to look at me.

"Fuck no. Not for a million dollars. Too many question marks." His eyes glint as he runs his hands down me. "I like what I got going on right here."

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and kiss his forehead. The fucking sap.

Mary picks up my phone and scrolls through the pictures again.

"Fuck. I used to be goddamn adorable, though. Half this shit wouldn’t even fit me anymore."

I squish his little potbelly, and he grunts at me indignantly.

"Do you still have any originals?" I ask.

He shakes his head, his eyes wistful and his smile sad.

"Nah. Got destroyed when my roof collapsed and leaked everywhere. Fuck, landlords are useless. Glad we fucking own now, babe."

He scrolls up, scrolls back down.

"Just these four?"

I nod.

"Yeah. They were the only ones I found—and I did a lot of searching."

"Christ, I think there were at least 10."

I smile ruefully at him. "It’s not gonna be long anyway before they make their way into the popular tags and shit starts coming out of the woodwork."

He tosses my phone onto the table.

"Whatever. Just shows that I’ve always been cool."

And then he’s kissing me again, his hand tangling in my hair.

"You know, I’m your family now, Mare. Just for you."

He brings my hand up and kisses it.

"Fuck, I know that. Why’dja think I put a ring on it?"

#mary goore #longfic #gender neutral insert #aurelio voltaire

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im-pok · 3 years ago

Text

Just for fun (and to make these easier to find) I have made a compilation of JSRF quotes!

I did find the quotes from this video by RisingSonic17 on YouTube. I do suggest watching it as it gives more context to the lines:

youtube

Keep in mind that some interactions may be missing, as I have never played JSRF and may be unaware of some interactions. Characters and their quotes appear in chronological order according to the video.

Corn:

"This is the GG's Garage. Hey, where's our pizza? Huh? You're not the pizza guy? Oh, you're here to join the GG's, eh? Heh... Tell you what. Find Gum. She's the one you wanna talk to. Just get close to her and pull the 'Right Trigger'. Got it?"

"Why don't you talk to her now?"

"Now, just 'cause you're new don't mean you can act like a big baby. The police are tightening up here, especially since the Rokkaku took over the police force. I know we look crazy 'n all, but even we know to pick our fights. So don't mess things up for the rest of us, got it?"

"Roboy's training changes as your skill level changes, so be on the lookout."

"I had a feeling Poison Jam would have their hideout in the sewers beneath Rokkaku-dai Heights. This is it... looks like the time to throw down has finally come."

"Man, those Poison Jam freaks are out of control. I say we start on Chuo Street and cover everything to Rokkaku-dai Heights and 99th Street in our graffiti. Chuo Street is probably the best place to start."

"Roboy told you, right? If you find a Mystery Tape, you gotta check the GG-notebook. It'll tell you where to find the Graffiti Souls in the area."

"Where the hell is Yoyo? Maybe he freaked out and skipped town? I'm sure he's alright. But we gotta take care of those Immortals. They've been walkin' around like they own the place. We gotta go and cover up all their graffiti."

"I'll send those Immortals back to the grave as many times as I need to!"

"We'll stop those Noise Tanks!"

Gum:

"Poison Jam knows something about Yoyo. I know they do."

"Damn! Punk, I'll get you for that!"

"The fortified residential zone... that's deep in the ghetto. And it could be the fake one again..."

"Here they come. The crazies from the Golden Rhinos. Concentrate, and watch your back. These guys ain't no joke."

"We gotta protect the streets. That's not a choice. We can't let these fools just waltz in and take over."

"The real enemy is your own fear. Remember that."

"So you're the cat that wants to join us, huh? I don't know where you're from, but the streets are tough. Real tough. Let's see what you're made of. We'll start you off nice and slow. Let's see how much air you can grab. Press the "A Button" to jump."

"Dogenzaka Hill is GG territory. I heard there's some headphone wearin' freak creepin' up here. If I could just find him, I'd show him what's up...."

"You can do it, can't you?"

"There are a couple of places in Shibuya Terminal where you can get on the roof of some buildings. You can get there by jumping from a Grind. You should check it out. Who knows what you'll find up there? When you're looking for something, the best place to start is the Map. You can see it by pressing the START button."

"The area of 99th Street is built around a tower that has a bunch of places to Grind. Definitely check that place out. There are also telephone poles to Grind and billboards to Wallride... the most important thing is to just try everything out. Oh, and don't forget to check the map by pressing the START button. That should give you some helpful hints"

"We actually found Roboy in a dumpster. Corn fixed him up real nice."

"I've been lost in the severs before. Its kinda crazy in there, but as long as you keep moving up, you'll be ok."

"Yoyo just can't chill and stay out, can he? He'll be back soon, I'm sure. I heard the Immortals hang out in the skyscraper district or something..."

"Actually, they say Roboy is actually a Noise Tank prototype. Don't tell him that though, ok? We don't wanna make him cry or nothin'. In any case, we're gonna get those damn Noise Tanks."

Yoyo:

"Those tracks should connect Sky Dinosaurian Square to the edge of the skyscraper district..."

"I hear that Poison Jam's woman leader has been showin' her face in town."

"Man, the Rhinos gotta be pissed off!"

"Shibuya Terminal is in a state of panic. I really wanna stay out of this, but we gotta go over there and take care of business."

"Don't use your eyes. Just try to feel it, ya know?"

"Graffiti has the power to wake up the energy that's asleep in the streets of Tokyo. The Rokkaku Group... the police... they don't know what's up. So let's just cover this whole place in art, yo."

"Yo, you know that dude Hayashi from the Rokkaku police force? That guy is one messed up dude. He's a complete psycho. Watch out for him."

"I heard through the grapevine that some weird-lookin' girl's been hangin' out at Rokkaku-dai Heights."

"So you think Poison Jam is after us?"

"We gotta get the Doganzaka Hill goddess statue that Poison Jam took. We better hurry, or things are gonna get real ugly."

Beat:

"Anything go down while I was gone?"

"I've always thought that thing in Shibuya Terminal was nasty lookin' anyway! Let's do a little redecoration."

"Sometimes, you just gotta get moving or else nothin's gonna get done, yo.

"Hey, I've heard of you. You're one of the GG's, huh? Tell you what... I'll race you. If I can beat you in a race around Doganzaka Hill, then this place belongs to me. Got it?"

"Hope you won't regret that."

"Shibuya Terminal? Now that you mention it, there was this huge guy wandering around there... And fishy graffiti? That sounds familiar, but I didn't really look close enough to see if the graffiti that the fool was paintin' actually looked like a fish or nothin'."

"Hey. Is it true Poison Jam used to cause trouble in Chuo Street under a different name?"

"Rapid 99 of 99th Street. They don't show their faces in public very often. Some say Rapid 99 and Poison Jam are sworn enemies because something big went down a while back. I don't know the details, though. A friend of mine told me that the girls in Rapid 99 are real lookers. I just think he was too scared of 'em to say otherwise. In any case, it ain't gonna be easy to find 'em."

"You meet Rapid 99 yet?"

"Noise Tanks? Never heard of 'em. But we gotta find Yoyo. I'll go through the sewers and check out Kiboganoka Hill."

"Those Immortals really get on my nerves..."

"Crazy stuff is going down all over town! Looks like it's time for a little clean up... GG's style!"

Combo:

"Time to get serious."

"This kid's kinda funny."

"This time we should be able to tell if it's the real one or the fake Yoyo just by talkin' to him, right?"

"That crazy guy?! What're you talkin' about? He looks nothing like me. Besides, we don't got time to deal with that fool. Remember? The Golden Rhinos??"

"Well, they told us to come. Don't look like we got any choice."

"There are some things that you can only feel when you're out in the streets, you know?"

"What's this?! Who's been sprayin' these ugly tags on my turf?! Hmph. I'm guessin' it was you... Its on! If you loose, you're gonna be answerin' to me from now on, punk!"

"You think you can do this too? Let's see it!"

"Man, you're not all that. Here, I'll show you one more time."

"The deep end of the sewers is closed off because it's contaminated. At least, that's what I heard..."

"Hey, why you gotta go out and get a dog?! There's only one thing I hate more than dogs, and that's goldfish."

"I heard Rapid 99 used to run under a leader named Cube..."

"Thing that ticks me off most is, the Immortals ain't worth all this talk and trouble. I wonder if they got somethin' to do with Yoyo's disappearance?"

"There's a bunch of real big guys with real big attitudes causin' a big scene over on Highway Zero. Maybe they might know something about the Noise Tanks. Man, where the hell is Yoyo?!"

Rynth:

"What is UP with Yoyo, anyway?!"

"Hey, Graffiti Souls are a big commodity, right?"

"I don't care if it's a golden rhino or a blue hippo, I'll send 'em right back to the zoo where they belong."

"What's their master plan? I mean, the Golden Rhinos don't seem like their just out here to run the streets, you know what I'm sayin'?" (This quote was spelled like this in game. From my knowledge it should be "they're just out here...")

"Here comes Gouji. Let's end this."

"Did you get all the Graffiti Souls? We still got a full laundry list of things to take care of, you know."

"Hehehe... So this is your hideout."

"Poison Jam are... kinda cute!"

"Is it just me, or does Captain Hayashi not look like he eats his breakfast?"

Poison Jam:

"I don't think Yoyo's that kind of a person."

"I think hes hiding something."

"This feels like a trap. Be careful."

"Someone's after DJ-K?! You sure about that?!"

"Gouji Rokkaku is kinda interesting. But, I think he went a little too far this time..."

"I love everything about Tokyo... even the things I hate."

"Hur hur hur. You want to get rid of us, don't you? Nothing in life is free. You gotta work for it. Beat us in this race and we won't mess with you anymore."

"Har har har!! I told ya'll you were a bunch of wussies!"

Rapid 99:

"ghahah! Next thing you know, you will be all crying like a baby."

"If you can win a flag battle against us, I'll tell you where Poison Jam' s hideout is."

"Suit yourself."

Garam:

"I won't hold back."

"Hey. Keep it real."

"There's this lightning-quick girl over at Kiboganoka Hill. Dunno if she's still there. But man, I gotta say, I'm really trippin' out over Yoyo missin' and all."

"When it comes down to it, the Immortals are just dried up mummies, man. I bet they all nasty under those bandages."

Boogie:

"The Noise Tanks might look strong, but they're like cheap action figures! Just run into them and they fall apart! Oh yeah, that girl from the stadium... I heard she's been lookin' for us. You seen her yet?"

"Aww man..."

"The fortified residential zone... it's directly attached to the underground sewers. Man. I don't like that place at all."

"Is that dude in black even human? My heart's pounding... I don't know why."

"You're never as good as you can be! Don't slack off!"

"Y'all are crazy!"

Jazz:

"This doesn't look good."

"Alright. Stay cool."

"Yeah.... we were a little too laid back this time, I think."

"The fortified residential zone... hey, why don't we pick numbers to decide who goes?"

"It's about time the Rhinos brought things up a notch. We better be ready to get real serious too."

"What the hell IS that big thing, anyway? But, you better watch out for that fool in black..."

"If you get a "Jet" in the Trials, you can even use people who aren't here to take out into the streets."

"You're one of the GG's, right? Then tell this fool that they got the wrong girl! They think I'm one of you guys! So, they dragged me out here and looked what's happened to me!!"

"Hurry up! Tell him that I'm not a GG!!"

Noise Tanks:

"Hey, you're that GG that helped me out! Thanks for that man. Say... there's something that I've been wondering since then. You wanna find out who's the fastest? I KNOW I can beat you. Let's give it a shot!"

"Alright. Fine. See ya."

"I'll get 'em good no matter what!"

"The more worked up we get about this, the harder it'll be to find what we're lookin' for."

"There's somethin' not right about the way the Golden Rhino's are actin'."

"Why are those Golden Rhinos going after the Radio station? Well, make sure to be on the lookout for Captain Psychopath."

"We gotta save DJ-K! I can't stand listening to this music anymore!"

"If this town could talk, what poetry it would speak..."

"Ready?"

"Practice all you want, it will not make a difference."

"It is not over yet. Prepare yourselves."

"Heh... Go on. Fight!"

"Are you ready?"

Special interactions:

"Sometimes it just doesn't matter how much you practice."

Slate:

"Dude. I'm bored. Entertain me."

"Hmph. What a bore."

"My sources tell me that the Noise Tanks and the Rokkaku Group are in this together. Be careful."

"So is that Clutch guy in with Rokkaku too? Or is he just a little punk?"

"I'm about ready."

"The Golden Rhinos are really startin' to get on my nerves..."

"I got better things to do than play house with Gouji Rokkaku, but man, that big ugly thing has GOT to go."

"Graffiti Souls' sole purpose is to be sought out."

Clutch:

"You're looking for that kid, Yoyo, right? Tell ya what, if you go out and get some Graffiti Soul points... Hey! Wait a sec, you've already got quite a few. Lemme see those... Sucka! Thanks for the Graffiti Souls! See ya around!"

"Hah, hah! I look forward to it!"

"I dunno, but I just don't get what's going on here. Heh..."

"This Gouji Rokkaku dude is pretty funny!"

"Haaaahaha! Tokyo ain't half bad!"

Cube:

"If you can beat me at my own game, I'll leave you alone."

"Suit yourself."

"The fortified residential zone... Unless you're absolutely sure of your skills, you should stay away from that place."

"I've dealt with the Golden Rhinos once before. If you don't take them seriously, you're as good as dead."

"I can't stand even looking at that thing. Its just so... so... damn ugly!"

"Yeah. You just have to try everything with an open mind."

Beat to Corn:

"So you're the leader of the GG's? Heh... How's this sound? If I beat you in a race around Doganzaka Hill, you and your buddies have to answer to me from now on. If you beat me... well, we'll just see when it happens."

"Huuuh? You're so boooring..."

Talking to Beat in the garage before fighting the police:

"Anyway, I'm ready to rock. But what's up with that pooch, eh? Where did ya pick him up? You sure that's not the leader in disguise? Heh heh. Its only a matter of time before I become the leader of the GG's anyway."

Combo to Gum:

"What's this?! Who's been sprayin' these ugly tags on my turf?! Hmph. Was it you, princess? You've been a bad, bad girl. You've better hit me with everything you've got, 'cause I ain't gonna hold back just because you're a girl!!"

"The cue tone get you all jumpy?"

"You liked that, eh? I'll do it again for you."

Yoyo to Rynth:

"You're... like... you know... yo."

"Where'd you come from?"

Gum to Rynth:

Rynth to Beat:

"Cool. Welcome aboard."

"You kinda... smell weird."

Garam to Boogie:

"Hey. I'm next in command around here, little lady. The name's Garam,"

Combo to Boogie:

"This group is growing bigger every day. Fool just dig me, I guess."

Gum to Boogie:

"So you're the one from Kiboganoka Hill, huh? Well, this is the GG's. What you see is what you get. Just be yourself, you'll be cool."

Garam to Jazz:

"Well, um... I... uh... be cool."

"That freak who's been making all those weird tags... you think he's connected with the Golden Rhinos somehow?"

Boogie to Garam:

"Alright. Stay cool."

Jazz to Garam:

"I feel ya, but I think you should try to chill a bit. Keep it together."

Corn to Clutch:

"What a fool. But the fortified residential zone... that's deep in the ghetto. And it could be the fake one again..."

Jazz to Clutch:

"Don't push your luck."

Beat to Clutch:

"You just wanted some attention from us, right? Aww..."

Combo to Clutch:

"Man, you're such a jerk I almost like you."

Garam to Clutch:

"One of these days, I'll get you one-on-one! Just you and me, fool!"

Boogie to Clutch:

"Fine. I'll let you off just this once."

Slate to Clutch:

"Heh... Stay outta trouble."

Corn to Yoyo:

"Long time no see, bro."

Clutch to Yoyo:

"So you're that Yoyo guy, huh? Heh..."

Jazz to Yoyo:

"So, you're the real deal, huh? 'Sup. I'm Jazz."

Combo to Yoyo:

"You gonna go and try to get back into shape, huh?'

Garam to Yoyo:

"Heh... I caused enough havoc for the both of us while you were gone, bro."

Rynth to Yoyo:

"The most unbelievable stuff was happening while you were gone! Hehehe..."

Yoyo to Slate:

"Hey, sorry about all that, yo. My bad. But thanks to those fools, I'm all out of shape now. Maybe I'll go out and cause a little havoc to warm up, yo."

Yoyo to Jazz:

"Man, things have sure gotten busier sice I was last here?"

Gum to Beat:

"That fool dressed in black who's been hanging around Chuo Street... now that I think about it, you guys kinda look alike."

Clutch to Beat:

"In times like this, you won't fall as long as you look where you're going. Heh heh."

Garam to Beat:

"Hey, you know that guy everyone's been saying looks like you? Well, is it you?"

There is some cutscene dialogue missing from these lines. If I can find all the cutscenes, then I'll be sure to add them.

#jsrf #long post #jsrf beat #jsrf yoyo #jsrf corn #jsrf gum #Youtube

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washymylifeaway · 4 years ago

Text

SakuAtsu Fanfic recs

Edit: minor changes (grammar and stuff) cause I rushed this :’)

EDIT: PT 2 IS OUT

OKAY so I meant to make like a long list of MULTIPLE VARIOUS ASSORTED ships but as I was making it I realized I had WAY too many SakuAtsu fics. Like TOO MANY AHHHH. Anyway, I decided that for the sake of everyone, I should just make a separate post LOL oops I’m sorry but I’m so far into SakuAtsu hell it’s not even funny :))))))))) I tried to keep things short so I could not BORE you while reading this post LOL, but also THERE WILL BE A PT 2 because I cut myself short in order to get this out for.....

THE BEST BOY SAKUSA KIYOOMI’S BIRTHDAY I LOVE HIM AND EVERYONE ELSE SHOULD TOO :DDDDDDDDD

As per usual, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for each fic before reading and make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) Stay healthy loves <3

Some of my FAVORITE writers CHECK TAGS AND WARNINGS PLS-

astroeulogy // I LOVE their works and they write BEAUTIFULLY AHHHHH!!! My fav? Possibly Dance of the Parallax by astroeulogy (T) 6.7k, but all of them are SO good! (My love for mythology really be showing here hehe.)

DeathBelle // this writer is on SO many of my posts cause I ADORE the way they write and characterize!!! My fav? Burden of Blame by DeathBelle (E) 91.2k but you already knew that LOL. I love the other ones too, but mafia? UGH.

hatsuna // ahjfsdjfhkasj need I say more? There isn’t a lot BUT the ones there are so so good! My fav? Pas De Deux by hatsuna (T) 19k surprise :D I love this one for their interactions but also Omi’s childhood! It’s really good (and you don’t even need to understand ballet) <33333

bastigod // again another writer you will be seeing in other posts because their writing gives me LIFE AHHH. My fav? my love, take your time by bastigod (T) 9k again you already knew this, but I LOVE THIS ONE ahagdhls. I have reread this one so many times oops hehe :)

volchitsae // I LOVE THIS WRITER, like some of my favorite SakuAtsu fics are from this writer, like favorites of ALL TIME. Please go read their stuff because I love it so much. My fav? take me to the limit, hold me down there by volchitsae (E) 3.8k this was the fic that got me into their writing, and oops I’ve fallen and I can’t get up haha leave me....

awkwardedgeworth // THE FICS THIS WRITER MAKES AJKASDLK. I love them and everything they make omg!!! My fav? This was SO hard but Notte Stellata by awkwardedgeworth (T) 20.8k cause I’m basic LOL but your flame will not survive in this cold tundra was a close second :’)

TBH, there are more that I don’t have time to get to (I started this a while back but then pretended like it didn’t exist for a while LOL) but these were the ones here hehe :) I could honestly make an ENTIRE fic rec list from these writers alone and it would be WAY too long, so for the sake of everyone,,, MOVING ON

Fics (in no order, but also I’m missing a bunch I LOVE but like I said TIME CONSTRAINTS AHHAHAH RIP)-

the inherent romance of classical conditioning (or, the fine art of emotional recognition) by pseudoanalytics (E) 13.7k // this fic made me laugh so much, starting from the fact that there needed to be clarification (which was, after finishing, understood LOL) that this was indeed NOT a fic with a foot fetish.

Routines (and How to Break Them) by cajynn (T) 1.6k // this fic makes them SO CUTE ugh the fluff ajsjkfhajh. I love how Atsumu just slips into everything Omi does (like a snake) ITS SO ADORABLE AHHH.

sense of purpose (or, what comes next) by pseudoanalytics (T) 3.6k // this fic was so HEARTWARMING!!! It made me kinda sad though cause I’m just that kinda person (and I don’t like to think about the past LOLOLOLOL), but the ending was !!! SO !!! CUTE !!! and I love the ending notes (me too Osamu, me too)!

crushed by citruslemonade (strawberrycitrus) (E) 4.2k // I feel like it’s a crime if I don’t mention this fic LOL and it’s very quick and funny! We all want to be the watermelons in this fic and no I don’t take criticism. No thoughts just Miya Atsumu’s thighs :’)))

Clipped To You by littleboat (T) 8.1k // (cp) okay first of all THERE’S ART, second I love Omi in hair clips <3333 It’s really funny with lots of ~pining~ Atsumu and there’s cameo’s of other players,,, it’s just a great time :D

bet on it by selenophim (T) 13.3k // this is a ~classic~ literally I keep seeing this fic because I like to stalk the relationship tags (LOL) and since it’s so good, I keep seeing it (also LOL). This may be SakuAtsu, but this is Osamu supremacy, again I don’t take criticism LOL.

Just as much by Sapphirine (NR) 16.1k // this is peak gay panic as demonstrated by one Miya Atsumu hehe. This fic is so FLUFF but also PINE! I’ll just be sitting here with my 851 million microorganisms to keep me company cause I’M SINGLE LOL.

every action has an equal and opposite reaction by akanemnida (T) 10.4k // nothing to see here, just Sakusa saying things that make Atsumu’s heart stop ;) I love ~caring~ Sakusa so if you do too, read! But also hello? Perfume drop please,,,,

see this through by basilleia (T) 17.7k // I am shamelessly a HARDCORE Atsumu wears glasses fan, once again, I take absolutely no criticism! Again some ~caring~ Sakusa heheh but also love the twin dynamic in this one!

dogshit (first comes the fall) by kitcassiachan (E) 15.8k // PLEASE CHECK WARNINGS! ngl this was one of the first fics I read for this ship and GOD did it get me hooked onto bottom Sakusa agenda (it really hit different). Of course, I’m not promoting the way this relationship happened (don’t have hate s*x), BUT I have nothing to say other than I had no regrets. RIP (not actually but you’ll get what I mean LOL) Bokuto and Ushiwaka for that matter.

let's get physical by rosegoldwriting (T) 4.3k // I really like medical stuff (you’ll see later LOL) BUT even if you don’t still read it cause IT’S FUNNY OKAY. We gotta love boys day and STD’s~~ (also don’t be stupid like him and get hurt to see hot doctors :))))

all i do is crave by newamsterdam (E) 12.7k // were we waiting for me to bring a 5 + 1 to the table? If so, here it is! We do love the olympics and oblivious Astumu~~

lay it on me (no, really) by ayushi_writes (T) 4.2k // please the way I was hesitant to read it at first but then the ‘being very fond and caring in a homie way haha’ made me read it LOL. The fluff (and Astumu being caring because that is another one of my favorite things to read hehe) in this is almost worth the awkwardness that made me want to go put my head into a hole like an ostrich LOLOLOLOL.

ink blossoms by entrechat (T) 8.1k // I think this fic IS SO CUTE OMG. I love the way Omi sits in the shop to draw was ADORABLE and making them do that to get tattoos? Smart af (and v respectful we stan). Also, I love flower meanings :D

crimson colored lotus by sieges (M) 16.5k // (cp) this was a demon slayer AU LOL. TBH I haven’t watched DS, but you honestly don’t really need to in order to read this LOL. It’s explained really well and the writing is AMAZING! It’s not a linear fic, but you can read it in order if you so choose.

where i want to be by tookumade (G) 8.8k // THIS ONE ahhhhhh so cute I love it. Omi trying SO hard in this relationship and Atsumu being so understanding. I love it here :’)))))

three roses and a smile by strawberrycitrus (T) 19.7k // I LOVE THIS ONE not only cause I love professor AUs (I do, I LOVE THOSE) but also it’s just some great writing :D I really love their interactions and the misunderstanding killed me ahhhhh.

If you were wondering, I already have 50+ fics (yes I counted but no I’m not done looking so there will probably have to be some cuts D:) lined up for pt2 AND I took out series in another post, so yeah this is why it’s a cursed draft hahahaa..... I hope you enjoyed cause SakuAtsu is my life and blood.

#sakuatsu #haikyuu fanfic rec #haikyuu fic recs #fanfic recs #manga #anime #omi’s birthday post #cause I love him #pls don’t come for me #I’m getting to the next one soon #I promise #teehee #we’re here for a good time #and a long one too ig?#haikyuu #hq

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gumnut-logic · 4 years ago

Photo

Thunderfam Appreciation Post

I’m giving this a new post to prevent scroll city, but the original and several reblogs can be found by clicking the above link. Also, it’s an excuse to post a piccy of Virg cos any excuse, really :D

Many thanks to @willow-salix for writing this question list :D

Before I start, I just want to say that I value every member of this fandom. I’m often hopeless at communicating in group settings so I don’t speak to many peeps, but that is my failing, not anyone else’s. You are an amazing group and you have supported me and each other just brilliantly over the last nearly three years that I have been hanging with you guys. Thank you ever so much for all your wonderful support and encouragement. I’ve had so much fun and created so much stuff…you guys are amazing. Thunderfam rock!

Please note that my memory is pathetic and I will fail to mention everyone. Please do not take any offence if you aren’t listed below. That does not mean I don’t value you, I do, it just means I have swiss cheese between my ears.

-o-o-o-

Your favourite writer of your favourite boy.

@i-am-chidorixblossom You are a whumper and comforter after my soul. You speak the Virg :D @vegetacide I adore your turn of phrase and your description is to die for.

The person who's stories you will always read.

I try to read most fics that come across my dash, but there are a few that have me jumping up and down. @i-am-chidorixblossom , @vegetacide , @tsarinatorment , @scribbles97 , @the-lady-razorsharp , @janetm74 Of course, I regularly fail at this as some of you write a huge amount of fic and I am often playing catch up, but fic!

Who wrote the first fic you read in this fandom.

I landed on FF.net back in May 2018. I immediately ran into @the-lady-razorsharp who I knew from another fandom ten years prior and she was absolutely wonderful, drawing me in and introducing me around. I gobbled up several of her fics in the process.

Person you can talk to for the longest without a break.

I am hard to get started, persistence is required, but once started, it is usually hard to shut me up. @scribbles97 @vegetacide and @tsarinatorment have all discovered that. Dangle a Virg, a plotline and stand back.

Person you can't be trusted to be left alone with.

Um, @vegetacide and I have plotted out the entirety of Warm Rain together…poor Virg. Add @the-lady-razorsharp into the equation and Virgil ends up with a beard, dressed in leather and riding a Harley – that was a hilarious evening. Between @tsarinatorment and @janetm74 Virgil gets grey hairs and has to go rescue Scott – because Scott inevitably ends up in the story :D @scribbles97 gets the blame for Gentle Rain – expand your horizons she said ::headdesk:: But then there was the time I left one random line about Eos visiting Virgil in the shower and went to bed. I woke up to hilarity and chaos as Thunderfam took the idea and ran with it! Love you guys :D

Person whose fic made you cry the most.

I know there were at least two fics that made me cry, but for the life of me I can’t identify them. I did cry writing my own fic – Flannel – and don’t tend to reread it for that reason. Purupuss traumatised me with A Quiet Day to the point I had to put it down and walk away for a bit ::wails::

Person whose fic made you laugh the most.

I have no idea. I know there are fic out there and I know I’ve read it, but without a complete list of everything I’ve read, I don’t have a clue.

Person whose fic made you think the most.

Aaaargh, I don’t have a master list so can’t remember everything. Staring at my paltry favourites list on FF.net (which was mostly gathered three years ago and never maintained), Purupuss’ ‘Brothers in Arms’ and her whole Quiet series has me wanting to write a Scott-Virgil telepathic fic (and she has given me permission to run with the idea, I just haven’t actioned it yet). Counterpoint by Swallow and Amazon is amazing and likely contributed to Sotto Voce.

Person you have laughed with the most.

I’m really not liking this ultimate one person idea. I’ve laughed with a lot of people in this fandom. I’ve candy cannoned a bunch of you as well :P There has been mad plot cackling, evil conspiring, fic written to stir pots and delight on purpose. Hell, I’ve even written fic that was purposefully a giant virtual hug because I’m so far away that even if half the world wasn’t in isolation, I couldn’t hug most of you. Sure, I talk with some of you more than others, and there is laughter in those chats…oh, god, so much cackling, poor, poor Tracy boys. But then there are also so many smiles both vocalised and not. Thunderfam is one of my happy places. Bring on the belly laughs :D

Your comfort fic that you'll go back and read again on a bad day.

I will often resort to my own fic when I’m really down simply because it helps me get to sleep :D and it is kinda tailored to me ::grins:: (and my memory is that bad I often forget what I wrote anyway – yes, it is that bad) But there are also a few on my FF.net favourites list. Mostly hurt/comfort in a Virg flavour. Cheesycheese, nhsweetcherry, A Small Rescue by Nalina, Breathe Easy and Under the Weather by @loopstagirl – several of hers, in fact – the Virg ones :D Pretty much anything that has Virg fainting and being looked after apparently :D Chiddi and Veggie fic, of course.

Favourite piece of fan art.

I have never been so honoured by artists before. This fandom has some amazing skills and I have been gifted some beautiful works. You guys are amazing (I keep saying it like a broken record, but you are).

Again, I’m stuck on having to list one and I can’t. I think Fanart Appreciation Month in January pretty much summed up my opinion.

Who have you known the longest in the fandom.

@the-lady-razorsharp followed by @vegetacide both wonderful peeps. I can’t miss out on @weirdburketeer either for her amazing support almost from day one.

Favourite OC.

I have to say that I really enjoy reading about Ray from @i-am-chidorixblossom ‘s fics :D He is so gentle and kind and just ::sigh:: Virg likes him lots :D Selene by @willow-salix is, of course, a major presence in the fandom and amazingly written. @hedwigstalons ‘ Claire is lovely.

Person who supports your work the most.

The Thunderfam? There have been some wonderful people who support all the time. @hedwigstalons @cg29 @janetm74 @weirdburketeer in particular have been amazing support liking and commenting on just about everything I write. I honestly don’t know how they do it. Plus several peeps over on FF.net and Ao3 who support me over there.

And then there are the poor souls who put up with me in chat and listen to my wibblies and whining and character checks and field random chunks of writing that get thrown their way. @scribbles97 @vegetacide @the-lady-razorsharp @tsarinatorment @i-am-chidorixblossom @onereyofstarlight @godsliltippy @willow-salix @janetm74 all have had random passages thrown at them at all times of the day and night by a crazy me begging for feedback. Does this work? Is this in character? Am I insane? What the hell is Scott doing? Is this John??? I give up, tell me what to do? Virgil is driving me insane! So, um, yeah

Person who's progress you are the most proud of.

I love those peeps who appear in fandom who start off poking around commenting and generally being lovely and then all of a sudden get out their own pens and start writing and they are frickin’ amazing! Both @janetm74 and @hedwigstalons come to mind in this department. Like holy cow – ‘here is my first fic and I’m not sure’ ::reads it:: Omigod! Where did you come from? That was amazing. Sit down here now, keep doing that writing thing, bloody hell! I think being brave enough to pick up a pen and join in is a major thing :D

Person who's story you think is underrated and should be read by more people.

If I find fic I like, I reblog it and shout about it. What I like is definitely skewed in a Virgil direction and this dictates often what I’m going to read first. I can’t reblog what I haven’t read. So, this equation will always be skewed by ‘reasons I haven’t read a fic’ which mostly involves either Virgil or the fact I’m juggling RL. So, my answer to this is if I think a fic needs to be shouted about, I shout about it.

Something you think people would say about you.

She’s nutty.

Silliest 'thing' you do with someone.

I’ve been known to write fic on the fly directly into chat windows to try and distract peeps going through shitty times.

Favourite pairing you now Stan because of someone's fic.

Virgil/Kayo because of @vegetacide for reasons I have blamed her for multiple times. @the-lady-razorsharp and @weirdburketeer were accessories to the fact.

Favourite headcanon from someone's fic.

Um, Virgil and coffee? I got that from somewhere and it has infiltrated my fic…a lot.

Ultimately, though, I feel most people I interact with contribute to my fic and how I’m feeling. This has been a wonderful experience. I try to return the support as much as I can, but sometimes it is a juggle between writing more, my stupid fluctuating mood, the demands of RL and my own creative drive. I hope I’ve helped a few peeps, because you guys have certainly helped me ::major group hug::

And yes, I hug a lot, because to be honest, I have no other descriptor to communicate how I feel, so you get buckets of hugs :D

Tagging the Thunderfam. Feel free to grab these questions and run with them. You’re all part of the gang whether you write, read, art, gif, screenshot, chat, babble, stare at Virgil all day...I know I do a lot of staring.

Nutty

(Thunderfam rocks!)

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderfam #thunderfam rock

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maggielindemanns · 4 years ago

Text

all mixed up - an elu social media au

summary: it’s simple really - eliott meets a guy at the bar, that guy gives him a fake number, and that fake number just so happens to belong to lucas. the rest is history.

[NINETEEN PART TWO]

[note: i’m putting my note here at the top this time but here is nineteen part two aka how the date went! i’m like . Scared to put my writing up but you know what, fear is my enemy and i’m posting to spite her so ! here is 3k words of elu date in the amu-verse i love you guys giving you all smooches on your foreheads <3 was gonna post this yesterday but i was attacked by the river i went tubing at so here she is rn instead <3]

Thoughts of nerves and excitement were crashing into each other and around the walls of Eliott’s head space at a million miles a second as he made his way to Lucas’ dorm. His heart didn’t even feel like it was beating at this rate, more like slamming against his rib cage and rattling up the butterflies existing in his stomach. He made sure to send Lucas a warning text once he was down the hall — “countdown from 30 & i’ll be there”. Lucas, 'ever the charmer having such a way with words, simply loved the text in lieu of an actual response.

Once in front of Lucas’ door, he took a deep breath before knocking gently, stepping back after to await an answer. Every second felt like forever to him, especially when he could hear Lucas shuffling around on the other side of the door. He just couldn’t wait to do this, he couldn’t wait to actually have Lucas to himself for real.

Lucas opening the door suddenly pulled Eliott from his thoughts, overwriting the mess in his head with thoughts of Lucas instead. He looked at Eliott, seeming pleasantly surprised, and smiled brightly at him. Eliott wanted to give him the world and then some.

“Demaury,” he greeted, “hey.”

“Hey yourself. Ready to go?”

“Of course. You look so good, I’m kinda jealous. Am I under dressed?”

“No, you’re perfect.”

“Oh stop,” Lucas scoffed, starting to lead the way out already, “let’s go before you hit me with any more corny lines.”

Eliott just smiled, following Lucas close behind. He got the door for Lucas going out of his building, grabbing his hand before he could walk too far ahead. Lucas didn’t let go, though, actually giving his hand a squeeze and smiling at him. The silence as they walked to Eliott’s car hand in hand was comfortable and familiar, and Lucas loved it.

When they both got into the car, Eliott went to start it, but hummed as if remembering something. Lucas watched Eliott reach into the back seat as he put his seat belt on, his brows furrowed.

“What are you doing?” Lucas asked, and Eliott wordlessly presented a lavender rose, seeming proud of himself. He looked between the rose and Eliott a few times before dumbly asking, “Is that for me?” and Eliott nodded, handing it to him. He turned it over in his hands before looking at Eliott again, his chest tight with the slight urge to cry. Yes, he was emotional over a single flower, sue him.

“I didn’t take you as the type for grand gestures,” Eliott explained, “but... something small to remember tonight is nice, right? Even if everything goes to shit and you hate me after this, at least we started on the right foot.”

“I could never hate you, this is so sweet, Eliott. Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. You deserve nice things. Always.”

Lucas just smiled slightly and watched Eliott start his car, starting to tell a story about a basil plant he accidentally killed. Lucas found himself oddly endeared by that, as well as his story about how he Jackson Pollock-ed his way through an entire semester. That led Lucas to tell him stories of how he tried multiple times to get out of gym back in high school with absurd ailments, one time even trying to use appendicitis as an excuse. That cracked Eliott right up, and Lucas was proud of that. He loved making Eliott laugh, it was his favorite thing.

They eventually were pulling into the parking lot of a very cozy looking building. “Len’s Den” was lit up brightly across the top of the building on a sign, and vased plants marked the entrance, along with a glowing, red open sign. Eliott shut the engine off after putting the car in park and looked at Lucas.

“I told him about you,” is what came out of Eliott’s mouth. Lucas must’ve made a face of confusion because Eliott laughed a bit before elaborating. “Len, I told Len.”

“Like...owner, Len?”

“Yeah. It sounds so random, but he’s been looking out for me since high school. I’ve done it all in here — cried, yelled, laughed, all three at the same time maybe?” Lucas chuckled at that, and Eliott smiled a little. “Point is, Len’s taken care of me in ways I don’t have words good enough to thank him for. He’s important to me, and so are you. I hope it was okay that I did.”

I told him about you. He’s important to me, and so are you. Those words were echoing in Lucas’ brain, doing a number on his emotions. It was heady to think that he was important to Eliott, so much so that he wanted to tell people about him.

“Yeah, that’s—I’m honored. That’s always okay, really.”

There was a beat of silence between them, the two of them just smiling and looking at each other for a moment. Eliott broke their gaze by starting to get out and Lucas followed suit, his nerves creeping back up on him suddenly.

How he was supposed to last an entire night of Eliott being Eliott was something he wasn’t sure of. Maybe if he didn’t think about it too much, the obvious would become clear - that being with each other was easy. They’ve done this before. Easy.

Upon entering, a few things caught Lucas’ eye - the photo booth in a far corner surrounded by countless strips of pictures, a piano set in the corner across, art littering the walls that resembled things he’s seen in Eliott’s apartment. Other pictures and band posters covered the walls, too, but nothing Lucas was familiar with. Eliott grabbing one of his hands and gently pulling him along shifted his focus back to him.

“You’ve got your thinky face on,” Eliott told him, “what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing, I just...like how you this place is.”

“Just screams art-kid-trying-to-find-a-place-in-the-world, huh?” he asked with a crinkle of his nose. Lucas smiled and nodded.

“Oh, a hundred percent, yes. Now let’s get some mac and cheese bites in our system, they are what brought us here after all.”

Eliott brought them over to the bar space where they sat close to each other, Eliott noting Lucas’ slight struggle to get onto the tall chair. He laughed a little on accident, and Lucas kicked his chair, mumbling for him to shut up.

Lucas let Eliott kind of take the lead here, ordering for the both of them with confidence that Lucas admired. Eliott in his element was always lovely to witness, no matter what. Conversation points never ran out as they sat and chatted (even when the heavenly bites did, Lucas ate two rounds of them), and Eliott even got him to take photo booth pictures with him at one point. Lucas being fussy about how the pictures were coming out made Eliott laugh so, so much. Lucas was shocked no one came over and was concerned with what was happening in this booth.

“To have not wanted to take these to begin with, you sure have a lot of opinions,” Eliott teased, and Lucas rolled his eyes, pushing his head gently and telling him to focus. Being in close proximity like this with a beautiful boy like Lucas was not helping him in the crush department, not by any means.

To only be date number one, Lucas felt like he had known Eliott forever, and the idea scared him a little bit. To know someone for only a handful of weeks and feel like everything is new and yet so familiar and safe between them already was a lot for him. He didn’t usually do this, he didn’t usually allow himself to get to this point. Infatuation with no return. But he kind of liked it. A lot.

Soon enough, it was just the two of them left as patrons, the only other person in the store being Len himself, waiting to lock up. He didn’t even make an attempt to kick them out, though, and Lucas had a feeling Eliott had something to do with that. Rather than dwell on that thought, however, Lucas found himself wandering over to the piano, Eliott following close behind.

“Piano’s lovely,” he commented, taking a seat. Lucas took note of all the etching done into the piano, making him wonder if one day he would get to add to them. There were people's initials inside hearts, stickers scattered on it, and messy scrawl in sharpie of people who came here before him. He pat the seat next to him to get Eliott to sit beside him and he did, their knees touching and arms brushing against each other.

“It’s old as shit, honestly. In tune, though. I tagged it somewhere way back when, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Somewhere here...” His voice trailed off as he scanned the surface of the piano with his eyes, eventually humming in recognition and pointing for Lucas to see. Lucas smiled, realizing it was a raccoon, and nudged his arm gently. “What?”

“You and these raccoons, Demaury.”

“Spirit animal, what can I say.”

“Oh man, you’re a trip,” he sighed, plucking a few random keys of the piano. Eliott started laughing and Lucas gave him a look. “What?”

“Nothing. Just wanna say Len’s got a triangle if you wanna mess with that instead.”

“Oh, shut up, as if you play.”

“I’ll have you know I can play the Star Wars theme,” he scoffed, starting to pluck out the first few keys. “Mmh, and I do a mean Für Elise cover.”

“Cover? What the hell?”

Eliott simply started playing the first few notes slowly but surely. It sounded familiar to Lucas’ ears, at least until Eliott started playing a bunch of meaningless mess. Lucas laughed at that genuinely, like, belly aching laughter. Eliott stopped playing and looked at him, something warm erupting in his chest resembling love, but not quite there yet. Adoration, maybe, but strong. So strong, Eliott had to refrain from just grabbing his face and kissing him right then and there. He almost couldn’t think of anything else as he sat there, smiling fondly at the boy beside him.

Lucas wiped at his eyes, calming down after a minute or so and looked at Eliott, clearly amused. He cleared his throat and tried to be serious, nodding once. Eliott tried to stop smiling too, but he knew he was failing greatly.

“Mister Demaury, I have to say,” Lucas spoke, “I think you have a fine career as a pianist in the near future.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Why thank you. Means a lot from you, you know, since you’re an expert and all.” Lucas got the sense that Eliott was teasing him a little, and he looked at him, squinting a bit. “What? I was being genuine.”

“No, you weren’t, you’re an asshole.”

“Well. Prove me wrong, c’mon.”

“Let me think,” Lucas told him, sitting up properly and getting his hands on the keys. He decided to play one of the only songs that came to mind right now, one of the first songs he ever learned - I Love You by RIOPY.

He plucked out the opening keys slowly, feeling Eliott’s eyes on him, watching intently. Once he got a good feel for the piano, he played with more confidence and ease, not missing a beat. He surprised himself, granted he hadn’t played much in a while with school and everything, but he was glad he still had it in him. As focused as he was, he felt Eliott’s eyes shift to his face, and that made him glance over at him mid-playing, taking note of the glint of wonder in his eyes. He looked away before he could start to think about it too much, but what he wasn’t aware of was how Eliott decided that in this moment, he liked surprising people. And Lucas was surprising.

When Lucas plucked out the final notes, he took his hands off and slowly looked at Eliott, who was smiling brightly. Lucas suddenly felt shy under his gaze - he’d never actually played anything for someone before, at least not a piece in seriousness like this. Silence hung between them for a moment before Eliott spoke.

“Way to show me up, Lallemant,” he said, and Lucas smiled back at him.

“It’s no Star Wars theme, but...” Lucas shrugged, non-verbally finishing the thought. Eliott kept looking at him and seemed to be thinking about what he was going to say next.

“Lucas, can I be honest with you?”

The question caught Lucas off guard, his heart hoping for the best but his brain thinking of worst case scenarios. He pushed those to the back of his mind, though, and nodded instead.

“I...am in so deep with you. The way I feel with you is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.”

“Eliott—“

“Forgive me if that’s super forward but...I have to tell you, I’d go nuts if I didn’t.”

“Can I be honest, too?”

“Sure.”

Lucas felt his heart beating in his ears, his nerves creeping up on him. Being with Eliott was the easy part. Having feelings for Eliott and sharing said feelings was the hard part.

“I really, really like you too,” he said finally, “more than anyone I’ve ever met. Ever.”

Several more beats passed between them, the silence becoming the loudest thing in the room. The tension was suddenly palpable, too, at least to Lucas, and every thought that passed through his brain became nothing but please kiss me, please kiss me, please kiss me.

As if able to hear Lucas’ thoughts, Eliott took hold of his face in his hands before leaning in, just close enough for Lucas to close his eyes for a moment. He opened them enough to look at him when nothing happened, and Eliott smiled just a little.

“Is it okay? To kiss you, is that okay?” he asked. Lucas scoffed, making Eliott laugh.

“Yes, obviously, please do,” he told him quietly, and in that moment, their lips met and Lucas felt whole.

It felt like Lucas had waited his whole life for this moment - the kiss that all the books he’s read and movies he’s seen in his life talked about. The kiss that had your skin thrumming with desire for more, that made life feel like a movie, like sparks were flying. That’s what it was like to kiss Eliott. It was better than he could ever imagine it being, and he wished he could bottle this feeling up and carry it with him everywhere at all times.

When Eliott pulled away, Lucas felt dizzy with it, slowly opening his eyes and his brain feeling like a bunch of exclamation points were going through it. Eliott started to smile, but Lucas leaned back in, kissing him one last time to make sure it was real.

“Fuck, I’m so in love with you,” Eliott whispered, and Lucas wanted to scream from the rooftops about this moment. He wanted to live in this moment and with this feeling for all time.

•••••••

Lucas woke up comfortably warm, almost too comfortably, swimming in clothes that were definitely not his own. The only sound in the room was the gentle hum of a fan and traffic passing outside, letting Lucas know he was not at his dorm. That, and the fact that the room was too big anyway. The bed was also dipping beside him and he turned his head to find a very sleep ridden Eliott laying beside him. Eliott looked like an angel, the sunlight hitting him in the most beautiful of ways. If Lucas was a photographer at all, he’d be trying to capture this moment.

“Time?” Lucas mumbled, and Eliott blindly grabbed his phone to look, squinting at how bright it was.

“9:17.”

“Jeez...”

“Good morning to you too,” Eliott laughed, and Lucas breathed deeply, snuggling closer to him. Eliott wrapped an arm around him and pressed a kiss to his forehead, not saying anything else.

“You’re thinking so loudly right now.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. What?”

“Well...I’m lucky you’re here. Happy.”

“And?”

“I...have a proposition.”

“It’s 9:17 in the morning and you’re already using words like proposition? You’re unreal, Demaury.”

“Not the fact that I have one, just the word itself. You’re funny.”

“What’s your proposition?” he asked, looking up at him. Eliott continued to look up at his ceiling.

“My final. I want you in it. I want us to be in it.” Lucas made a curious noise, and Eliott continued. “I’ve struggled with a concept for months, like, since this course started, and I thought I had one. I really did. But I’m stuck with that and re-inspired, and...I want to do it on intimacy and human connection. I have to write a paper with it, so I wanna do that.”

Lucas sat up and looked at him, understanding what it had to do with him suddenly. Eliott looked at him, as if waiting for some kind of reaction.

“You hate it,” Eliott decided, and Lucas shook his head, running his hands through Eliott’s hair and smiling a little.

“No, just...intrigued, I guess. You’re makin’ a model out of me, Demaury, please just say you’re not putting us on a billboard.”

“No, no billboards,” he laughed, “just my professor. And the art panel at our school because they’re choosing one project to go in a gallery walk at the end of the semester.”

“Can we eat first? So I can think about it?”

“Of course. Please don’t be scared to tell me no, too, it’s okay,” Eliott insisted, grabbing one of his hands and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “It’s just a thought right now.”

“Okay.”

“Is now the time to tell you I’m the worst chef on planet Earth? Or should I have kept that in the vault?”

“In the vault, I’m out of here now,” he teased, and Eliott pulled the pillow from under his head and hit Lucas with it, making him laugh out loud.

taglist: @that-one-meh @a-french-disaster @fallout-of-my-chair @menamesniall @iamshannonmcfarland @yesyoutubeisruiningmylife @yackgrace @choupiauriant @xomywonderwallox @jacwena @awake-dreamer18 @noorakviigmohn @lost-inside-fantasy @myverybigmoodboard @ariavds @didntgowithgrace @laurenkmyers @sunshineyou27 @nanidice @orangefizz4 @blanxkey @bodizzy @q-branchminion-nr43 @nova-on-standbi @boysrunaway @anothergayhpblog @mlhalbertt @valenschmidt @skamchokehold @mostlysh1tposting @lucassdemaury @oceanicinception @yellowballoon @fallinglikeafoolforyou @bluronyourradar @painfully-oblivious @alwayskissmeatnight @katzen-kinder @howlingsaturn @luxandobscurus @anotherplaceintheuniverse @aly-kazam @quint-cssential

[archive link <3]

[PART ONE || TWENTY]

#skam france #elu #elu social media au #elu au #elu fic #lucas x eliott #my fic #skamfr #skamfr fic #skamfrfic #amu

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thedevildomdaily · 4 years ago

Text

Demonic Possessions Ch 2: Getting A Little Cozy

NOTE: Sorry about the delay. Had an unexpected guest I had to babysit. I also couldn’t stop writing this. I had no idea where to stop this chapter lol.

Warnings: None, just a little language. I

“Pftssss…” Lena had to cover her mouth with both hands quickly. The badass demons everyone on Earth feared were a bunch of bratty children! The nephilim wanted desperately to film the scene and share with her brothers. They wouldn’t believe her if she told them about this.

Lilly rolled her eyes and sighed as she begrudgingly went on into the room to join the chaos. She then patted the empty seat beside her for Lena. Of course the guys didn’t even pause in their antics at the arrival of their new guest.

The remaining seat available for Leviathan was on the other side of Lena. It seemed he would be stuck beside the 3D nephilim for eternity at this rate. He sat down, focusing on his phone, trying to rapidly tap on it while reaching towards his food.

“You’re going to pay me back for my property AND you’re going to retrieve it.” Satan responded. Lena thought he looked like he was going to snap at any moment given the giant vein on his forehead. She didn’t envy Mammon being the target of his rage.

Lucifer started to eat, but hesitated to say, “Mammooooon…” Which instantly caused the loud demon to melt into his seat to sulk. The eldest resumed his meal, ignoring the death stares still being shot at him by Belphegor.

“This looks delicious.” Lena finally spoke. The commotion, all of the food, the smells; All of it had been overwhelming and she didn’t realize she hadn’t tried anything yet. It was definitely colorful, and somewhat intimidating. She absolutely would not question the ingredients, let alone the nutrition facts. Wait, do they even have Nutrition Facts in the Devildom?

Asmodeus had sat down, giving up on Beelzebub’s inability to control himself. When Lena spoke up, he gave her a sweet smile, “Oh it is. And it is super healthy. I wanted you to get to taste something wonderful for your first meal in the Devildom.”

“That’s sweet of you, thanks.” Lena chimed with a huge grin before digging in. “Damn this is sooooo good!” Her piercing blue eyes widened with excitement. No wonder the bigg’un over there was wolfing the stuff down. Her reaction caught a few of them off guard and nobody confessed that Asmo merely ordered the food. He solely focused on the presentation.

It did get a few under-the-breath chuckles from a few of them as Asmodeus beamed at her response, “Oh thank you hun. I knew you’d like it. You seem to have good taste...you’re brothers too.” He was referring to the fashion they were wearing. He also noticed the fine quality of her luggage before. It looked quite expensive.

Lena chuckled, “Haha...Azri trained me well. We share a love of fashion...and shopping. I really need to do some shopping as soon as possible…” It was more of a note to herself out loud, but the beauty guru of a demon lit up with excitement, “Oh let me take you! Lilly we have to show her Majolish!”

Lilly joined in with equal amounts of excitement, “Yes we gotta. And it sounds like Azri should tag along too.”

“NO!” Lena responded louder than she meant to. Lucifer actually stared at her for a moment. “I mean uh, not this time...he and I may have a few disagreements...when it comes to expenses.” There were a few demons at the table who could understand that. Pretty much Lucifer and Satan were the only responsible shoppers in the room. And of course Lucifer tried to keep a tight leash on his little brothers’ shopping expenses.

“I do need a few immediate room amenities ASAP.” Lena continued, “After Levi wrestled down all of those sheets, dust and cobwebs went all over the place. It’s a hot mess...and not in the good time.” that got a laugh out of Asmo and Lilly, “And I have no sheets, pillows, or a comforter...and I some furniture for my clothes...they’re all packed away still…”

“Awe! That’s no good! You can’t let your clothes get dusty!’ Asmo covered his mouth. He couldn’t imagine living in a room so dusty. It made him want to skip dinner and head directly to his luxurious bathtub. “Lena, you can sleep with me tonight?” Of course he was all smiles and eager to offer that.

“Asmo. Yer just being a perv.” Mammon commented, pausing his sulk-eating.

Lilly shook her head, “I’m lending her a set of my sheets and a pillow for tonight. And did you show her the Akuzon app Levi? She can quickly order some cool furniture to be sent here in no time.”

The otaku demon looked up from his phone, “Yeah, I showed her Akuzon. We ordered some manga and wall scrolls and…” Leviathan proceeded to list 30 unnecessary anime or gaming-related items.

“What the hell! Did you just order that for yourself?!” Mammon exclaimed. He thought his brother went on a wild spree with Akuzon again. A rather bold assumption coming from the Avatar of Greed himself.

“No no no no!” Lena laughed, “He gave me a few recommendations, and then I saw a few things I liked. I'm a huge fan of gaming and manga myself.” Mammon, Asmo, and Lilly blinked with surprise. Great, there was another one amidst them. “Hey, don’t judge me! They are great art forms and there is such a plethora of dynamic stories you couldn’t experience in any other media. I would also like to add that I am a freelance artist on the side and I focus on anime and gaming characters…”

Leviathan stared at Lena for a moment in awe of her ‘speech’. Where everyone else understood that she was just conversing about the subject, the indigo-haired demon saw her standing at a podium, giving an academy award-winning performance and he fought the urge to clap.

“Ah, gotcha.” Mammon responded. The other two nodded.

“Hey! Why did you guys just nod when she spoke passionately about those things, but when I say anything, you give me such crap you normies!” he scrunched his nose at his brothers in particular.

“Because she didn’t try to ramble incoherently about it for an eternity or bog us down with unimportant details Levi…” Asmodeus shrugged.

“Awe...I’m sorry…” Lena patted his shoulder, feeling bad for Leviathan, “I’ll listen to your rambles anytime.” Leviathan sighed and shrunk down for a moment, then realized that the female nephilim was patting him. A girl. Touching him. Repeatedly!

“WAAAAAGH! NooOoooOO!” Leviathan rose like a vampire from a coffin, out of his chair, and ran from the room. Everyone laughed at the scene. Even Lucifer ‘covered his mouth to cough’ at the same moment.

Lena merely chuckled sheepishly, “I didn’t mean to make him so uncomfortable...I guess I’m a little too chummy…”

“No. Leviathan is just…” Lilly tried to find the right words for it, “well he refers to himself as a shut-in. He always freaks out about body contact. Pretty much with just about anyone…” Though she knew Lena’s case was a little different and couldn’t help but chuckle.

When dinner was over, the house members scattered. Lena went with Mammon and Asmodeus to Lilly’s room to hang out and further discuss shopping plans. Levi didn’t respond when Mammon banged on his door to join them. It was nice to be getting along well enough with a few of the brothers already. The nephilim didn’t feel as welcomed earlier that day as she was now.

“This looks cool!’ she said as she approached the tree, “I can’t say I’ve seen a huge tree just growing in someone’s bedroom before. Are Poison Ivy or something?” Lena chuckled and sat on the side of the bed.

“Well, she and I do have a few things in common, not gonna lie…”Lilly responded as she joined her new friend.

“So, are we gonna go shopp’n after class tomorrow?” Mammon scratched his head, looking a bit uncomfortable as he sat on the couch, “I may have to ditch last period if I’m gonna go too.”

This made a huge smirk spread across Asmo’s glossy lips, “Ah, trying to avoid paying our Dear Satan your check tomorrow by spending it all with us?” The question caused his older brother to blush and furrow his brows, embarrassed and angry that he got caught.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin about. I just feel like getting a head start…”

Lilly exchanged looks with Asmo, then Lena. “You know that’s bullshit, right?”

“100%. I just arrived here today and I can read you like a book dude.” Lena gave Mammon a devilish grin.

Great, now the new girl was joining in on the ‘let’s pick on Mammon brigade. It’s bad enough when his little brothers and best friend did it, but her? Crossing his arms, the greedy demon refused to respond to her remark.

“While I do love poking fun at my scummy big brother,” Asmo chimed, “I do want to resume our discussion from earlier. What are we ever going to do about you in that filthy attic room?” Lilly joined in at the concern. “Why don’t you store your clothing in my closet until your furniture arrives from Akuzon? Lilly did the same thing.”

“That would be great, actually, I was kind of concerned about wrinkles and creases...and my brother vaporizing me over it.” Azri was the chillest guy out there, but fuck with his clothes and he was a 6’4”, fire-breathing maniac with claws.

“And as for sleeping arrangements, I do really think you should consider sleeping in my room with me.” Asmo added. Immediately Mammon and Lilly glared at him.

Lena wasn’t an idiot; she knew he was clearly the Avatar of Lust. The right amount of narcissism, the insistence of closeness, and the weariness of everyone around him. She was also a big girl that could take care of herself. Even if he was a demon of seduction. “You know what? I’m game. If you have a clean, comfy bed I will crash it.”

The other two just looked dumbfounded at her, while Asmodeus closed his eyes and grinned. “Oh this will be lovely. We can do nightly facials and I’ll braid that beautiful silvery hair of yours. Maybe we can take a bath together?”

“Hmm...I might forgo that bath...for now.” Lena responded, “but the rest of that sounds delightful after this incredible fucking journey. My day wasn’t going well before I arrived, and then I’ve been a little overwhelmed by...well, EVERYTHING I’ve seen since we got here.”

“Are you sure about this? My brother’s a little perv…” Mammon’s arms were crossed again and he looked genuinely concerned. He didn’t want to be strung upside down somewhere by Lucifer again for not at least warning the girl. They were also supposed to be cautious with the nephilim until they learned more about them at least. Lucifer’s orders.

Lena yawned, unphased by the older demon’s concerns, “Maybe I am too?” She gave a sly expression at Mammon, making him blush and look away, pretending not to be. “I think you guys have some misconceptions about nephilim. Just because we are half angels, doesn’t mean we are highly virtuous and prudish.” She grinned, reflecting on the trouble she and her brothers have caused over the centuries. “I mean, we have more morals than demons, that’s for sure, but our feelings are so intensely human and we’re considered flawed for it. We’re whimsical, passionate, reckless, and live life to the fullest. And we suffer for it too.”

The others in the room were quiet, reflecting on what she said. Mammon admittedly thought she and her brothers may be a bit innocent-like. Even older angels like Simeon tended to be. He and his brothers were once before. Asmo shared that sentiment as well, but was delighted knowing for sure that Lena wasn’t.

Standing up, Lena yawned again and stretched before she walked over to Asmodeus with an extended hand to help him up, “I’m really tired after eating so much tonight. Don’t we have to get up early tomorrow? I wanna rest ‘cause I am a horrible monster to wake up in the morning.”

Asmodeus took her hand; it was as soft as his. He blushed with delight and excitement. “Yes, we’d better get our beauty sleep! You too; the both of you!” Lilly was something of a muse for Asmo when designing and consulting Majolish with petite creatures in mind and his big brother did a lot of modeling.

The demon’s bedroom was so pretty and feminine. And it smelled wonderfully. The bed looked as soft and comfortable as she’d imagined it to bed. “Asmo, are you sure you’ve fallen? ‘Cause this room looks heavenly after doing all that dusting!” she stepped out of her shoes quickly and sprung for the bed, eager to touch the cozy comforter. “You weren’t kidding about this.”

There was a chuckle from Asmo, not taking offense to the comment at all. She was genuinely excited. Mimicking a feline, he walked slowly towards the nephilim. ‘I never kid about luxury and beauty darling.” He reached for Lena’s hair, pulling it all behind her. It was as silky as he imagined. She didn’t withdraw from him, good. He ran his fingers slowly through her locks before suggesting they went over to his vanity.

They both gazed in the mirror together. She looked drowsy, he was only a little. “I am so curious about you nephilim. I never met one personally until today.” He picked up a brush and began running it through her hair before putting it into a braid. Everything he did was in a rather intimate way, yet Lena never gave a reaction beyond her tiredness.

“There’s honestly not a lot to be curious about.” Lena responded. She loved when others played with her hair and it was quite common for Azri to braid hers so no tangles got in it. He was more concerned by it than she was. That Mother Hen. “You really can ask me anything. You all can. We are transparent; we literally can’t lie. That’s the stupid angelic trait we all share. At best we can simply not answer you. That being said, and simply because we three are scorpios, we fucking hate lies. Don’t. *clap* Do. *clap* It. We sense that shit miles away.” She made Asmo laugh uncontrollably as she gave instances where exes got their cars destroyed or a garden gnome’s decapitated head through their bedroom window on the 5th story of an apartment. They were definitely far from angelic. Definitely emotional creatures to say the least.

“Lena. I think you and your brothers will really like it here in the Devildom. Your..passionate natures can run wilder here than it possibly could in the human world.” When he finished her hair, Asmo lifted the end and smelled it in a sensual way. “You can put your jewelry here. I promise it’s safe from my scumbag brother, Mammon. There’s a curse on this box specifically targeting him. Solomon created it.

“Oh did he now?” That got her attention. Her brow was raised as she looked at it. It did have the elaborate designs he fancied. “So you’re one of his..contracted?”

Asmo nodded as he retrieved the night masks they agreed to apply once their make-up was removed. “Yes. We have a contract. He’s such an interesting human; I couldn’t resist him.”

Lena chuckled, “Trust me, I know. Been there…” This time Asmo was brought to attention.

“Are you one of his…?” he asked carefully. “Hell no! I wasn’t one of his 300 wives or 700 concubines...or is it vice versa? Any no. We did have a wild time together during the renaissance period in Italy. I’m not easily tamed and we were just ‘having fun’.”

Asmo beamed, wanting to know all of the juicy details. “Oh I’ve got some stories for you, darling. But then again he has plenty on me so you’d better not say anything to anyone else, got it!” Lena gave him a serious expression with the mask on, making him chuckle, but agreed not to tell. “I can promise pinky. Lilly explained how important a tradition it is. Heavier than a blood oath!’

The nephilim started at him blankly. This was one of those times where she just had to avoid the truth. No comment. No problem. She shared the pinky promised the demon and they continued getting ready, spilling little stories along the way. Then came time to change clothes.

The demon leant her an oversized t-shirt that smelled like citrus, because Lena wasn’t going all of the way back to the dusty attic after getting nice and clean. She began removing her shirt, not thinking anything of Asmo being in the room.

“Oh my!” he said with wide eyes, “how bold you are, tempting me like this.” He turned away blushing, but held quite the smile. He thought of how much fun they might have in time.

Lena chuckled, “Sorry, I’m used to changing in front of others. Dorm life; fashion life; party life.” Her bra was tossed aside only after she put the shirt on and slid her ripped jeans off. Asmo changed in his giant bathroom.

He emerged where cute, cyan pajamas that made Lena giggle, “You look so cozy.”

“And you look cute, yet seductive.” he chimed back as he headed to pull back the comforter. He insisted that Lena got in first, and to get comfortable. She followed the suggestion, then decided it was best to place a pillow between them, just to set things straight. She didn’t mind flirting around with him, but she had a little apprehension and self-control.

He wanted to pout at the dividing pillow. Lilly did the same thing, which was no fun. He wanted to at least snuggle with her, feel her curves that filled-out his shirt. They laid beneath the top sheet and comforter, facing one another with smiles. “Good night Asmo. Thank you for the delicious first dinner, volunteering to go shopping with me tomorrow, and letting me crash here.”

“You’re welcome Darling. And thank you for sharing some candid Solomon stories. I’ll cherish them forever!” They both laughed and the demon watched as Lena drifted off into her dream world. It was really quite something. She had all of the trust in the world in him not to try something with her. He was always used to apprehension and it took forever for Lilly to fully trust in him.

He found himself wanting to run his fingers against the edge of her soft, porcelain face and hair as she slumbered. Asmodeus refrained, but continued to watch over her until he too fell into a deep sleep.

The sound of some odd alarm clock started buzzing, causing Lena to groan and bury her face under a pillow. It was strange. It smelled like lavender and honey. She didn’t recall trying any new perfumes lately. And she didn’t have one of her witchy ladies crash.

“Good morning Darling.” she heard a songbird voice chime. It was so close to her; TOO CLOSE! The nephilim quickly rose, clutching the pillow beside her in a panic. It was obvious that she forgot all that had transpired the night before. Lena was totally lost, having no recollection of entering this “Better Homes Than Yours”-looking bedroom.

Her eyes darted straight over to the owner of that voice: a “pretty boy” type. He had a seductive smirk as he stared up at her. He was clothed, though his pajama shirt was completely unbuttoned. It made her instinctively look to see what she was or wasn’t wearing.

The nephilim’s antics caused Asmodeus to chuckle lightly. He knew exactly what was going on in her head. He’d seen it happen so many times: The panic of waking up in a stranger’s bed. The Avatar of Lust never got bored watching this scenario play out. He was highly curious about what Lena thought had happened. “What’s wrong Darling? You look a little lost…” He decided he would have a little fun with her.

“I uhm…” was all Lena could manage to respond with. Her hair was braided, yet the top was completely frizzed. Her eyes widened when the stranger reached towards her. “Did we…?” It wouldn’t be her first time, by a long shot, but she felt completely refreshed instead of her normal hung over status after an ONS.

“Did we what Lena, Darling?” Asmo asked, playing coy. He was loving this. What naughty thoughts was she having about him? She froze, looking at his open shirt. He looked so hot laying like that. She’d be very proud of herself if she didn’t in fact jump his bones the night before.

“You know…” she said, slightly embarrassed, “bump uglies…”

“There is most certainly nothing ‘ugly’ about me Darling.” he responded, giving her a wink. He let her process that for a moment, watching her sigh and throw herself back on the bed, covering her face with her hands. He knew he was on the edge of taking things too far, and decided to stop with the charade.

Leaning really close to her, Asmodeus whispered in Lena’s ears, “As much as it would’ve been, we only did facials and went to sleep.” He chuckled softly as he saw her ear turn pink.

“Eeeergh!” Lena gritted her teeth and popped the side of his hip, as he was casually lounging on his side, embarrassing the hell out of her. “You are fucking aweful!” She kicked around, pouting.

Asmo chuckled more, loving being able to see her like this. She was absolutely adorable in this state. He totally saw why Solomon would try to fool around this dangerous beauty. He didn’t react, but that swat actually hurt a little. “As much as I want to keep snuggling-up in bed and tease you, we really need to start getting ready for class. You do NOT want Lucifer on your case, especially so early in the morning.”

Remembering she had to go to school made Lena groan even more. “Damn it! I don’t wanna Asmo...it’s too early!”

It took awhile for the two of them to get dressed, followed by hair and make-up. Asmodeus couldn’t resist getting to make-over someone after getting himself dolled-up. It was clear that Lena was used to it, holding perfectly still and moving about just right. She explained that she modeled for her brother, Azriel, quite often.

When they were ready, both Lena and Asmo exited his room, giggling about some joke she’d told about Solomon. It just so happened that Levi and Satan were walking down the corridor to witness this.

Of course, neither of them knew about the sleeping arrangement, and thought exactly the wrong thing. “Oh, good morning guys. What do you think? Am I RAD material?” the nephilim asked, showing off her school uniform. She felt rather silly wearing a uniform. Her school didn’t require one, focusing on individuality and expression more.

Satan merely stared at her, blinking. He wasn’t sure what this situation was, nor how to respond. “Uhm, it suits you well..” he cleared his throat a bit. Asmo was such a clever little demon, knowing what his older brothers thought and continued to play games. He reached out and took Lena’s hand. “It does, doesn’t it!?”

Leviathan’s face was red, but he looked otherwise rather deadpan. He gave no response, but instead walked right past his younger brothers and the nephilim. It was a curious reaction to both Lena and Satan. She assumed he just wasn’t a morning person.The three followed after Leviathan downstairs to the dining room table.

It was Mammon’s day for cooking. He’d gone the waffle route, making it quick and easy. The was beast bacon, hellfire bumble bee syrup, and fresh fruits of The Devildom. “You guys are gonna spoil me with all this delicious food.” She chimed and gave her compliments to “Chef Big Money Mammon” which caused him to blush and go tsundere on her.

“You don’t eat like this at your place?” Beelzebub asked, before swallowing what she was sure to be an entire waffle whole.

Blinking for a second in disbelief, she quickly shook her head, “Nah, we had a cafeteria at Belmont. We’re too much in a hurry to enjoy a setdown meal in the mornings. Too many things to do on our agendas. That and Azriel forbids sugary foods, especially during the most important meal of the day.”

“There’s only one important meal?” Beel asked, swallowing even more food.

Lilly laughed, “I told you we believe breakfast is the most important meal of the day. It sets your energy and mood.” Lena nodded as she began to take her seat.

‘Oh Lena, Darling,” Asmo chimed, “I might have to agree with your brother about eating too much sugar at breakfast. Your skin is so soft and smooth…..(paused for effect), I don’t want you to get any acne flare-ups. Especially after I spoil you with the latest line from Majolish.”

Okay, the sneaky 5th brother was really having some fun with his implications. Though everyone really did jump to conclusions quickly. And what made things even more suspicious was the way Lena didn’t react to him or get embarrassed.

“Today, Asmo DARLING, I will make an exception to the dietary rules thwarted upon me.” she replied, “Mammon took time to fix me a plate and I intend on enjoying it. Besides, it’s a part of my learning experience. Cuisine speaks volumes for culture anywhere you go.”

The second eldest brother couldn’t help but smile to himself at the appreciation for the food he made. It was unexpected coming from a stranger. “Yeah, don’t waste that food. I got up early to get it ready!”

There were jokes flying around the room about ‘chef Mammon’ with a lot of laughter. Even Belphegor, who was still in sulk mode, took the time to thank him for ‘slaving over the waffle iron’ for everyone. The only one that didn’t seem to joke around was Leviathan. He was quietly focusing on his phone as usual.

“Enough, everyone. It’s time to leave.” Lucifer announced. There were a few sighs that followed. Beelzebub quickly crammed as much as he could in his mouth as his twin began to push him towards the exit. “Beel, you should be good til lunch…” he murmured sleepily.

Lena was actually excited to share her first night experiences with her brothers and learn about how they fared. She didn’t text them anything besides ‘good night lub you!’. She’d rather see the expressions on their faces.

On the way to the Academy, Lena walked up beside the 3rd eldest; her ‘keeper’ she decided to call him. “Hey, are you playing the same Otome today?”

Leviathan froze for a moment, then continued to play. “No, I’m playing an action RPG…” He didn’t seem enthusiastic, nor did he seem focused on the game either. It puzzled Lena, so she kept on with the conversation, “I like those. The Marvel Alliance is my favorite.”

She could see a struggle in him. It was like he wanted to ask about it, but held back. What was his deal? Since he wanted to know, obviously, she went ahead and continued, “So it's all of the characters in the whole Marvel universe. It’s random what good guy characters or bad guys you get, but you draw random ones, build your team that are good against certain types of enemies, and level em up. It’s got decent story lines, and it’s cool you can play as bad guys too...it’s just. I really hate the ‘pay to play’ games that get you into gambling away your money for the characters you want.”

He glanced at Lena out of the corner of his eyes as she spoke. She really was the only person he knew that could ramble on about games like he could. Well not as much as him. He was the king otaku here after all.

“Are you by chance upset with me?” Lena asked, “I figured you’d at least share your opinion of the whole pay-to-play thing…” she had a tuition for these things and hated feeling awkward around people, especially ones she’d be around a lot.

At first Leviathan was going to dodge her question, then Asmodeus called to the nephilim to ‘hurry up’ to walk with him. It made him grit his teeth. “NO! Why would a shut-in otaku care about a 3D girl getting a little cozy with Asmo!?” He shouted at Lena and stormed on ahead of everyone.

Lena felt the eyes upon her. Not only did the fellow House of Lamentation members look at her for answers, but other RAD students gathering about the school grounds who witnessed the scene as well.

The nephilim facepalmed as Lilly joined her at one side, with Asmodeus at the other. “What was that all about?”

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talesmaniac89 · 5 years ago

Text

Tag, You’re It

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: The reader challenges Dean to a round of laser tag, to see who’s really the best shot.

Triggers: None really, just fluff

Y/N = Your name | Y/E/C = Your eye colour

“Pull in here Dean!” You bounced excitedly in your seat as you pointed to the arcade in front of you. Smile wide and (Y/E/C) eyes bright with the premature rush of a challenge as you twisted in your seat to raise a teasing eyebrow at the grumbling hunter.

Dean Winchester, however, didn’t seem as excited for the prospect ahead of him. Even though he’d been all for it when you’d raced him to the car. All big words, sharp eyes and squared shoulders, ready to prove you wrong on your assumption that you’d beat him in a one to one shoot out.

Of course, he’d probably also not thought you’d be dragging him to the closest arcade to put his bragging to the test straight away. Considering the challenge, he’d most likely considered it to at best involve a gun range and at worst a bunch of tin cans in a pretty little line.

“Are we really doing this?” Dean groaned, though he still turned into the car park with a grimace and hesitant green eyes locked on the big, faded ‘Fun Land’ sign in front of the door. Seeming less impressed by the second as he took in the crumbling facade.

Honestly, the place had seen better days.

The sign looked like it was just one bad gust away from crashing to the ground. The ‘F’ was faded and dented enough to barely be visible at all, renaming the old arcade to ‘Un-Land’ instead. And the obvious signs of rust creeping in from the sides of the vintage styled metal hinted at years of neglect. But hell, it was the only arcade in a 10-mile radius, and it would have to do.

Hopefully the equipment inside wasn’t in as bad of a state as the outside. The reviews had been good online after all. Though you were still adamant that you could beat Dean in a shoot off even if your only available weapon was a peashooter.

“Hell yes we’re doing this. If you’re gonna brag and say you’re better than me, you have to be ready to put your money where your mouth is,” You grinned, reaching for the door as soon as he pulled the Impala into one of the many available parking spots.

Based on the ghost town of a parking lot; the old and rundown arcade was pretty much empty. Which was what you’d been aiming for when you pulled Dean along early on a Monday morning. You didn’t need other soldiers on the battlefield if you were going to show him you were the better shot. Though, in your own totally humble opinion, the place could’ve been full, and you’d still come out on top of any damned leader board. You knew your way around guns.

Any type of gun.

“But… Laser tag? Isn’t that just for kids’ birthday parties and boring stripper-less bachelor parties?” Dean’s deep voice was right behind you once he spoke up again. Sending surprised little pleasurable shivers up your spine as you turned to face him, nearly bumping into his chest from how close he was.

It took you a second to find your voice; your head loud with some not-so-innocent thoughts about the gorgeous hunter in front of you.

Damn it.

It was unfair how mentally tongue-tied he could leave you by just standing that little bit too close to you. Those broad shoulders and muscular arms easily brought with them fantasies best reserved for the four walls of your own room back at the bunker at any given point of the day. Even more so when they were close enough for you to run your fingers over.

Especially when the rest of the man was just as sinfully gorgeous. From those slightly bowed legs and his perfectly toned chest, making you wonder how all of him would feel pushed up against you, one strong thigh between your legs and calloused fingers circling your wrists. To those tempting full lips and that defined jaw peppered with just the right amount of stubble to make you want to trace it with your tongue. And of course, your favourite pair of bright green eyes; easier to get lost in than any national forest.

Ok, so maybe you had a tiny bit of a crush on the wilderness that was Dean Winchester.

Which meant the added bonus of getting some time alone with him did add to your giddy energy. But it was 99% about proving him wrong… Or maybe 75%, at least. Swallowing down your own dirty mind, you pushed your thoughts aside along with the buzz in your veins from reacting to the near magnetic pull of him by walking backwards towards the door to the arcade.

“Well, bachelors and birthday parties will have to wait in line. Right now, it’s a way for me to kick your ass,” You shot back, a little too late and too weak, when you found your voice again. Adding a secret ‘and to help you de-stress’ to yourself as he rewarded your teasing words with a roll of his eyes and a huff before he followed you to the door.

Dean had been a bit on edge lately. Not that you blamed him. But it hurt to watch him pace the floor dragging a fidgeting hand through his hair and not finding any outlet for his nervous energy. Which was really why you’d challenged him in the first place.

You both turned to your little challenges whenever one, or both, of you were on edge from the tense lack of action between hunts. It made the quiet days easier to deal with when you had nothing to hit. He was your best friend, even if you felt more than just friendship for the hunter, and you just wanted to help him. To make him smile again.

There had always been a great chemistry between you two. Some intuitive part of you that just knew when the other was hurting, or needed an outlet for the building adrenaline, energy and frustration. Maybe it was just friendship, maybe it was something more. Personally, for you it was definitely the latter and sometimes you believed it was the same for Dean. You’d just not been able to own up to it properly yet. At least not enough to find the needed courage to test your theory that those hidden glances you sometimes caught out of the corner of your eye meant he felt the same way you did.

“I don’t know…” Dean sighed as you turned on your heel to push the door open, happy to see the inside looking a hell of a lot more modern and cleaner than the fading outside shell of the building. Hopefully their ‘state of the art’ laser tag arena lived up to the hype you’d read about online. Each session apparently came with a scoped rifle, a handgun and a ‘smoke grenade’ that was more a burst of steam than anything. All set in a dark maze made to look like an abandoned warehouse.

A setting you were both intimately familiar with from your many hunts.

“You’re just scared ‘cause you know you can’t beat me,” You sing-songed teasingly as you nearly skipped towards the reception desk. Happy to see that the inside looked as empty as the parking lot. Which meant there shouldn’t be too long of a wait. And hopefully you’d have the whole arena to yourselves. So you could properly school the hunter.

“Oh… It’s on…” Dean winked at you. That boyish half-grin chasing away the rest of his annoyed reluctance as he fell into step next to you. Bumping a toned bicep against your shoulder when you rewarded his agreement with a loud victorious laugh which only sounded louder in the empty arcade.

Ok, so it was more than just a tiny crush.

You loved Dean Winchester. You just needed to get your shit together for long enough to tell him. Hopefully without destroying your friendship.

---

“Not fair (Y/N)!” Dean tried to sound annoyed as his vest blinked red to signal your clear shot to his chest, but the laughter soaking the words took the edge off it.

You’d been kicking ass and taking names for the first fifteen minutes of the thirty-minute round. Though Dean kept telling you it was only because you kept hiding from him. Either that or because the gun was lighter, he was new to laser tag, or one of a million other whiny excuses.

For the first ten minutes, the big guy hadn’t taken your game seriously. Allowing you to easily duck around corners and sneak up on the hunter. Your movements hidden by the music and the blinking lights as you used your handgun to get in a clean shot before running away laughing. Blatantly ignoring the ‘no running’-signs that littered the walls.

Once your point lead had been announced at the ten-minute mark however. Then the game became deadly serious. Forcing you to switch tactics to keep your lead. Finding the high ground and dropping to the floor to use your scoped rifle to snipe at him from behind the chain link fence on the higher platform.

Which was exactly where you were as he called out to you above the music and teased a laugh from you that gave away your position. Leaving you just a few short seconds to roll to the side and scramble back up on your feet before he closed in on you. Easily getting in a shot at the back of your vest just before you rounded another corner.

---

His points were closing in on yours.

“Stop moving so much! You’re cheating!” Dean’s laughter sounded from somewhere behind you as you raced towards another corner with a loud, breathless laugh of your own.

The twenty-minute mark had seen a point score that was both in triple digits and the distance between your points was shrinking fast. The hunter’s longer strides left you to run away, ducking and rolling half the time as he kept trying to get in shots at you while you zig-zagged away from him.

“All’s fair in love and war Dean!” You shot back with a breathless laugh over your shoulder before rounding the corner and jumping a small barrier to lie in wait, knowing he’d follow you around it sooner rather than later. Switching from your rifle, you aimed the handgun towards the corner and held your breath. But there was no sign of those bright eyes and boyish grin coming into view around the corner.

Where was he?

“Got you,” Dean’s voice in your ear teased a childish squeal out of you as he snuck up on you and got another shot in. Damn it. You were tied.

Laughing you turned towards him and winked before easily using your smaller size to your advantage, ducking under his arm and rushing around another makeshift barrier. Nearly sliding on the floor from the sharp left turn before turning to walk backwards and waiting for him to hit the slippery patch that almost made you stumble. Gun aimed and finger on the trigger.

You barely got the shot fired through your loud laughter as Dean came into view around the corner. Stumbling over bowed legs as he fumbled with his gun. The Winchester curse striking again.

The brothers somehow both always seemed to nearly drop whatever weapon was in their hands at least once. Luckily, this time, you could use it to your advantage as you ducked, dropped and rolled. Getting around the corner with another breathless chuckle at Dean’s curses from around the corner.

---

Your back and forth point-lead kept changing as Dean copied your earlier tactic; sniping at you from the top of one of the structures you didn’t even know how he climbed. While you tried to hide around corners and fire blindly in his direction. Both of you breathless and hot as the robotic voice signalled the last few minutes had started.

The final countdown propelled Dean into further action as he jumped nimbly down from his vantage point to chase after you again. Sniping was good for steady points, but not much of a winning tactic with only minutes left to spare.

You had the lead, but only barely and Dean was hot on your heels as you ran around another corner, only to run straight into a dead end. If he caught you in there, he was sure to win the whole game by simply locking you in place and firing blindly around the corner.

You only had a few seconds to formulate your plan. Which was probably what made you throw caution to the wind as you kept your gun by your side instead of aiming it at where he was sure to show up. Deciding, hell, two birds, one stone, just as Dean came around the corner.

Eyes shining bright with early victory as he lifted his gun.

Before he could fire however, you ducked under his aim and pushed him against the wall. Your hand flat against his vest as you pushed yourself up against him. Hating the fact that the rigid plastic of the laser tag vests was keeping you from feeling his body against yours. You knew you should probably take a second to think things through. But, you were acting on adrenaline; the only way you ever managed to muster up the courage to do something absolutely insane.

Both when it came to hunts and your own non-existent love life.

So, before Dean could speak up or fix his aim, you let your hand slide against the back of his neck and pulled his head down towards yours. Your lips pushing against his in a quick, breathless and giddy kiss. Barely allowing yourself to linger at the taste of him or let the world fall away around you before you stepped back, just as Dean’s lips became pliable against yours.

The quick-witted hunter, did however have lightning fast reflexes after years in the business. So, before you could fully slip away from his arms, he’d reached out to pull you against him again, wrapping strong arms around your waist. Pupils blown and lips slightly parted as he let his tongue wet them, tasting you on them.

The growl that left him was low and deep in his chest, yet from this close you could easily hear it above the music. The animalistic need in it sending shots of heat through your system. He wanted this, he wanted you, and damn it, you wanted to properly savour him as well. To fully let yourself drown in the taste of peppermint and spice that you’d only gotten a small teased hint of.

But that would have to wait until after you won the game and proved you were the better shot. You were nothing if not stubborn after all.

And so, you only allowed him to pull you back against him for a few short seconds. His lips parting as he groaned against your mouth, all willing and wanting. Teasing a moan from you that he easily swallowed as his hands roamed against your sides, seeming annoyed at the hard plastic that stopped him from tracing your curves.

An annoyance that only grew when you pulled away again and he pushed his torso forward trying to follow. A greedy mouth looking for yours with a greedy desperation as you raised the handgun and stepped back away with a smirk and a wink.

Dean’s eyes were so focused on your lips that he barely even seemed to notice the gun until you took proper aim. Green eyes widening, though he made no move to raise his own. Still too stunned and rattled from your surprise kiss.

Letting your teeth grazing against your lower lip; you shot him at point blank range before turning with a laugh and walking away. Your pace unhurried and an extra little swing to your hips from where you felt his eyes roaming your body in jeans you knew for a fact were very flattering. Leaving the big guy dazed against the wall; his own gun forgotten in his hand and the win as good as yours.

By the way his eyes burned into your body before you slipped around the corner, counting down the last seconds, you already knew how you’d be celebrating your win. Pushed up against a wall somewhere as Dean’s lips explored your neck and mouth properly. Teeth marking your throat and a dangerously low groan trapped in his chest. One big hand circling your wrists and keeping them pushed over your head to stop you from running away again and one big, toned thigh pushed between your legs.

Not that you minded. Hell, that would be way better than any trophy or money you could ever win from your challenge.

Tags:

Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132love @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler @akshi8278 @justanotherwinchester @lyarr24 @torn-and-frayed @all-will-be-well-love @wearesuchstuff1 @thefridgeismybestie @adoptdontshoppets @punof-agun

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @hobby27 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sea040561 @donnaintx @alwaysdreamingforthebest @thatmotleygirl @chocolateheart @superfanficnatural @flamencodiva @starryeyeseunbyul

---

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wakaoujisenhime · 5 years ago

Note

Hello! I really fall in love with your blog! Thank you very much for those Vorpal Swords headcanons! Can I ask headcanons about being Rakuzan manager? For example, how she cares about boys and they care about her; how Rakuzan protects her; How she supports them at games. And Akashi likes her. Good luck to your blog!

A/N: Hello there! I’m glad to know that you’re enjoying these, so I hope that this one will be to your liking as well! Also to those who don’t know what a ‘bokken’ is: it’s basically a wooden sword, Japanese swordswomen and men use for training!

Tags: Akashi x reader ✅ Rakuzan x reader ✅ SFW ✅ fluff ✅ friendship ✅

image/art source: Zerochan (art by Tousaku) [I sadly couldn't find the corresponding post where they uploaded it, since that artist seems to be inactive atm, but if you happen to stumble upon it, please make sure to tell me!]

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

so first of all how did you even become Rakuzan’s manager?

well you were actually taking care of the team BEFORE Akashi joined the club

back then you guys were a wholesome team, but the moment the redhead was pronounced captain it all went downhill...

your former teammates began dropping out with the same complaints

“He’s too strict”, “I can’t train like this anymore”, “When he’s on the court, basketball loses its fun factor!”

even if you hated to admit it...they were right

Akashi was a REALLY strict leader who always wanted his team members to give it their all

100%? Not enough, make it a 110 and then you might be chosen as a substitute

during the first half of the school year, you put up with everything he threw at you, whether it were insults or commands

at one point you weren’t even the manager anymore but became his loyal puppy that did everything he instructed you to do

the things he requested weren’t even worthy to your title...unless you like standing in front of the gym door, acting like a bodyguard at the disco

and of course, even you had your limits

after Akashi had once again decided to give you an unreasonable task, you finally snapped

“I’ve had enough! Just who do you think you are, ordering me around as if I was your subordinate!”

“Listen. You either fix that emperor like attitude of yours, or you end up losing one of Japan’s strongest team...including me.”

in your state of anger, you had shoved the clipboard you were using against his chest and had stormed off the gym

a whole week had passed and you didn’t visit the club even once, that’s how pissed off you were

one day just when you thought about filling up a club withdrawal paper, there was a letter in your locker

...

Dear (Y/N)...I know that the way I’ve been acting up until now has upset you, but the reasoning behind my behavior is a simple one. All I desire is to see whom of these ‘star players’ everybody (including you) praises, can actually live up to their title. Sadly, I’ve come to the conclusion that none of them were able to, so I’ve decided to build up a new team in which you as well are going to be needed. I sincerely hope that you are willing to help the new Rakuzan basketball club reach even greater heights than ever before. Yours faithfully, Akashi Seijuro

P.S: We need you manager.

...

the first half of the letter had made your blood boil, but the further you read the more your curiosity got peaked

but you didn’t want to give in that easily, so you decided to visit the club one day to see what Akashi’s idea of an absolute basketball team looked like

...

“So (Y/N)..what do you think?“, Akashi asked after practice had ended

you had just looked at him with one of your ‘are you kidding me?’ faces and shook your head

these boys...

a) looked like full-fledged men to you

b) could easily snap you in half if they wanted to (especially Nebuya)

and finally

c) were probably all legendary NBA players in their past life

all in all they were amazing

watching them play gave you the impression of an actual and professional basketball game...that’s just how good they were

...

two months passed and you had taken the role of the manager once again

you hated to admit it, but Akashi was once again right..this team was absolutely amazing and worthy of any title you could think of

luckily these boys turned out to be more wholesome than you had ever anticipated

knowing that all of them had their struggles and own problems to deal with, despite their flawless appearance made you realize that that they were indeed your typical high school boys and not some basketball machines

sadly they couldn’t - or better said - weren’t allowed to show any weakness during training...these were Akashi’s orders

much to your surprise, they had accepted it with much less resistance than the members before them, but you were a little anxious that they might end up quitting the team so you took it upon yourself to prevent that scenario from arriving

from that day forward you began spending more and more time with all the members (except Akashi) …

Reo:

as the vice-captain he was to ensure that everybody followed the training regimen they were given by the redhead (in case of his absence)

sadly due to his laid-back nature and feminine speech, almost no one took him seriously

that’s where you come in…

“Come on now guys! Listen to Reo or I’ll get the bokken! And if that doesn’t get you guys moving then I’m sure a short phone call with Akashi certainly will...”

the second line always worked and even managed to make Reo giggle

after that, he’d always thank you several times and while the others ran laps/were stretching the two of you would always talk about that day’s schedule

by the end of practice, Reo and you would actually go out and do some shopping while talking about different topics

and thanks to his talented eye for the beautiful, your wardrobe was full with clothes that complimented your figure just perfectly, which only boosted your ego

a certain topic you guys started talking about only recently was romance

at first you were extremely careful to not touch upon any touchy subject since there were a lot of rumors amongst your classmates, concerning Reo’s sexual orientation

but the more you got to know him, the easier it was for you to talk to him and in no time the two of you had become best friends

whenever someone either came up to you or him and wanted to just mess around, the two of you got each other’s backs at all time and would either intervene directly or call for backup (mainly Nebuya)

thanks to Reo’s ‘big sister’ personality you luckily never felt alone or at a loss, since you knew that he’d always be there for you and help you out

Kotarou:

this boy seriously makes you run for your money

he’d always arrive almost half an hour earlier than the others just cause he wants to mess around with you (he’d for example take your clipboard and make you literally chase him for it)

at first it upset you quite a bit, but as time passed you eventually got used to it and evolved your strategy

you chase him?

hell NO

you’d instead sit down on one of the benches and wait for him to bring it back to you

your strategy for that was to remain silent and show no reaction whatsoever whenever he asked if you weren’t going to chase him like the ‘good old times’

he’d then get so worried that he’s upset you that he gives up, brings you your clipboard and starts either poking your cheeks, playing with your hair or straight out embrace you

the latter always broke your façade

his warm hugs accompanied by the glistening puppy eyes and his snaggletooth always made you pity him and wonder if you’ve perhaps gone too far

the moment you’d give in, his cheerful attitude was back in an instant

and that routine became pretty much a daily ritual between the two of you

what perhaps surprised you the most was when you actually witnessed Kotarou’s other side of his bubbly personality

he was surprisingly the ‘holding a grudge’ type (especially on the court)

Rakuzan had a practice match once and when a player of the opposing team made it past the blond boy seconds later he was fuming, glaring at everyone who even looked his way and screamed more as well as louder than usual

the others around you weren’t even faced by his sudden tantrum so it was up to you to calm him down before the referee gave him a yellow card

since then his mood-swings became your responsibility

outside of the gym, you guys spent a good amount of time together

you mostly helped him out with his homework since he really wasn’t the brightest out of the bunch (and as some of you might know in Japan your grades play a major role when you’re a part of a club. Depending on your test results you might get excluded from some of the activities as far as I know) and you weren’t going to leave on any activity without this ball of sunshine

to pay you back for your help he’d go skateboarding with you on the weekend

in case you forgot or couldn’t skate he’d help you remember or teach it to you

much to your surprise, he was quite a good teacher, so it was easy for you to understand the basics and even learn some of the simplest tricks on the way

but in case you were some kind of a pro (or simply good) at it, he’d challenge you to a small contest and by the end of it the two of you would actually come up with a small choreography

Nebuya:

to be frank, he intimidated the heck out of you (at first) and he was actually the most difficult for you to approach

the main reason for your reluctance was mainly because of his appearance, but just a day after you were first introduced to him made you change your mind

on your way to school you took the train and as commonly known the trains in Japan were the majority of the time extremely filled with people and some of them just couldn’t keep their hands by themselves and just had to go ahead and start feeling people up

in that case, the victim was unfortunately you

the typical reaction of your other female classmates would’ve been to stand there and do nothing about it, but you were different

“Excuse me, but could you stop touching me?“, you asked in a loud voice making sure that at least some people witnessed what was happening

you couldn’t care less if you guys became the center of attention, all you wanted was to get this creep’s hands away from your body...and you did

what you didn’t know/notice was that Nebuya had actually seen all of it and wanted to come and help, but you were quicker

when you got out of the train he caught up to you and directly asked if you were ok

he even went ahead and bowed his head to you apologizing multiple times for not reacting quick enough

it surprised and scared you at the same time, but this was kind of a chance to finally talk to him, so you made sure to not let that opportunity slip away

and trust me when I say this, but this man turned out to be a bigger softie than you anticipated

since that day he became the person you’d call upon first in case of trouble you couldn’t solve on your own

Nebuya even volunteered to be your bodyguard, but you weren’t really a damsel in distress so you refused at first

and after many arguments, pouts and pleas you finally gave in and agreed to go to school together every day

additionally during training he’d make sure to be the first one to save you from any flying ball

much to his dismay, you managed to dodge or even to catch the majority of them which made his attempts completely futile

so in order for him to stop sulking about how he had ‘failed to show you his muscles in action’, you’d go out and help him with his workout

sometimes you’d even be his motivational right hand during his own eating contests

and when he decided to show his ‘manly’ side and either burps or lets out gas, your bokken was on him just some seconds later

Mayuzumi:

this boy seriously hated you in the beginning

in his eyes you were nothing but a loud girl who wanted some attention and tried to gain it by acting as the manager

much to his surprise you figured him out pretty quickly

you somehow knew when he became irritated on the court and immediately took action to prevent any outbursts from him or someone else

furthermore, you supported his hobby without asking questions and when he expressed the wish to go to the rooftop and read a chapter or maybe even two from his light novel, you’d just let him go

one afternoon he came to the gym to excuse himself from training and found only you and how you had fallen asleep on the referee table

his first thought was to leave before you even noticed that he’d been there, but then he saw a small notebook with the title ‘RAKUZAN BB CLUB’ so he got curious and started reading your handwritten entries about all of the members

each member had a few pages worth of information you had either gathered yourself or looked up

he found it a tad adorable that you reserved the last page for a personal comment on a player since it reminded him of how some of his authors wrote an afterword at the end of their story

as soon as he read his name though he suddenly became really reluctant to proceed

for some reason, he was afraid of what you might have written/researched about him

he started to read it anyways

“...”

“Has a low presence...well yeah I guess”

“...”

“Seems to be prouder than he lets on? W-Wha? That’s not even...true”

“...”

“Probably swears at his teammates internally...how did she know?!”

“...”

“It would make me happy if we talked more to each other, but he probably hates me... ”

Mayuzumi would’ve never told you, but that last line hurt him quite a bit

that day he decided to join practice and when you called for a timeout you’d always leave his towel and water bottle on the bench next to you and he’d normally just take it, but this time he murmured a barely audible ‘thank you’

you almost fainted then and there, but somehow managed to keep up your serious facial expression (which he very much appreciated)

the two of you would almost never go out/spend time together, but instead, you began exchanging small gestures like you buying him a new volume of his favorite author or him hiding a small ‘thank you’ note in your notebook

Akashi (finally):

since you and he know each other from way back, you didn’t have that much contact in the beginning since you wanted to take your time to get to know the new members, but Akashi’s eyes were always on you

if someone out of the other members even dared to ask him if he harbored feelings for you...then let us just pray that he doesn’t have Midorima’s scissors with him

but if one of his main players (most likely Kotarou) asked him about it, he’d just cut him off quickly and shut the conversation down

Rakuzan’s captain cares for you in his own kind of way

he’d support you from afar and make sure that no one who he doesn’t deem as worthy comes even remotely close to you

you weren’t aware, but since you had once again become the manager of the reformed Rakuzan you became quite popular

a lot of people admired you, some were even impressed or jealous and some even began having feelings for you

“I’m thinking about asking (Y/N) out...what do you think?”

as soon as Akashi heard your name in such a conversation he instantly made his move

don’t ask how he did it, but within a week you had gained the reputation of being ‘out of limits’ for everyone except for the club and your friends and just in case someone felt the need to be adventurous, there was no way they’d be let into the gym (thanks to Akashi’s orders and Nebuya’s muscular body)

the redhead had first noticed his feelings for you when you snapped at him back then

for him it was the first time someone even dared to speak up against him and even insult him

he was surprised and very annoyed at first, but as the days passed by him and his incomplete team he figured that it would be the best to start anew

so he scouted three of the uncrowned kings and a 3rd-year student who basically was a future version of Kuroko

when the stage was set all he needed was for the main star to appear, so he sent you that letter where he invited you to watch the new team

as far as the confession goes...

Akashi is a very strategic person, so he’d most likely wait for his promise to come true (the promise of Rakuzan reaching greater heights) and then confess saying something like:

“See? I’ve kept my promise...now it’s your turn.”

#knb headcanons #knb x reader #akashi x reader #rakuzan x reader #knb fluff #━𝙺𝙽𝙱 #━𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾

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