#i also got these sandals a while back from the daily present and i LOVE THEM. ok | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pinkhairedlily · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 11 - Student Council President Sakura / Graduation Chapter

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Youtube playlist for your reading accompaniment

They held a run-through of the graduation ceremony on the last day of class and technically the last day of the trio’s high school life. Unlike their first general assembly, Uchiha Sasuke was to deliver the graduation speech but not without great sulking from Haruno Sakura who landed a close second despite ranking first in their final exams.

And obviously, not without Sasuke trying to give up his speech privileges by campaigning instead for Sakura.

In the end, all three of them were granted speech slots – one for Sasuke as valedictorian, Sakura as student representative, and Naruto as the school’s first national MVP. It was this debacle that led the three of them to brainstorm in an empty AVR after the dry run.

“Done!” Sakura yelled like the diligent student she was. “Let me look at yours!”

Sasuke presented her a blank paper while saying, “It’s all prepared in my head”, and Naruto showed her his baseball doodles.

“Oh God, you’re all so hopeless.”

Then the electricity suddenly got cut off in the AVR. Sakura expected the boys to screech in surprise and cling to each other, but she only heard silence in the dark. She jumped in her seat when the doors opened with a loud bang, a confetti splash, and the lights coming back to life.

Sasuke and Naruto were still in front of her, holding two bouquets of irises and yellow roses. Behind them were the old and new student council members with other students holding a large banner saying Thank you, Student Council President Sakura!

She started to leave her seat to come to them, but they gestured for her to stay on her seat. In front of the room, the large monitor beeped and showed a compilation of videos.

Sukehiro Aoi, an alumni and currently an intern in an animation studio. “Hello, Ms. Pres. You once asked the body to submit a publication material for an event of the student council, and I sent mine through a dummy email with no expectations of winning. I wasn’t comfortable with the public seeing my art. I was afraid of the unsolicited remarks so sending it anonymously gave me some relief. You chose it however, and you knew how big a credit was to an artist. I was really scared when you were able to hunt me down just by my watermark, but my name in the info blast caught the attention of a school board member and referred me to this animation studio. It was the littlest thing, but you handed me my dream.”

Watanabe Kota was a year below them. He has a small frame, round thick glasses, and battled with face acne. “Ms. Pres! People never had much confidence in my physical appearance, so I don’t know what you saw in me when you asked me to take over the school radio. But here we are – we’re airing daily and we even produce documentaries and radio programs. Thank you for seeing what I didn’t.”

Ito Amanaya, a typical jock in the football team, muscular and came across as intimidating, but he had the gentlest cadence. “I was bullied by the same group that bullied your dynamic duo. When you ran them off, you also saved my life. Thank you, Haruno.”

Kimura Shinze, a classmate in third year, beautiful, popular, and the captain of the cheering squad. “Hope you’re having a great day, Ms. Pres. Remember that time when the class was guessing who were our crushes and I blurted out that it was a girl, you told me thank you for telling us. That was…a big deal to me. Thank you for that gesture.”

Himurata Aoi, president of the koto club. “Sakura, I know you had many people come up and confessed to you so when I did try, I was glad that you didn’t give me a bullshit reason like you’re not into girls. You turned me down because you have someone you already love. I am thankful for your honesty.”

The biology teacher, Takahashi Kande. “Student council, thank you for your mental health program. As a single father to twins, I don’t have the luxury of time to sit in a couch and sort out my issues. To be able to do that in my workplace during breaks is a heaven-sent gift. You saved me and my family. Thank you.”

Many more messages came on, from a classmate she lent spare change to, from a staff she helped clean, from countless students who she wasn’t aware she gave kindness to.

“Why….” She asked breathlessly.

“You’ve been beating yourself lately. We thought you needed some reminding,” Sasuke muttered, under his breath, the bouquet still in his hands. “You left some pretty big footprints, Ms. Pres.

“You might not have noticed,” Naruto jested. “But this is always innate and natural to you, isn’t it?”

“Why did you bother so much?” She was reduced to tears.

“It was Naruto’s idea.”

“Huh? You did all the compiling though!”

“Shut up, it was me,” yelled the current president.

“Thank you, everyone.”

--------------------------------

It was a weekend, but Sasuke requested Sakura and Naruto to meet him at the school gates. He only gave the time and place, and he knew well enough that they would be there – no questions asked.

They stood there, minutes earlier than planned, a first but nothing more unusual than homebody Sasuke asking them to go out on a weekend. Sakura wore an oversized rust shirt over a pair of muted cotton blue trousers tied with a brown leather belt and tan fisherman sandals, her long hair kept in one single braid at the back. Naruto probably expected a fancy lunch with his outfit – black silky long sleeves over gray pants and black loafers.

Sasuke, high on impulsive decisions, wore bright colors, a complete departure from his usual neutrals; mustard vest over a deep violet polo, baggy pants, off white converse, and a white fanny pack. “Well, we’re mostly dressed for comfort, except for that idiot beside you.”

“What do you mean dressed for comfort? I borrowed these loafers from my vice-captain and my feet aren’t used to them,” Naruto whined. “Besides, aren’t you taking us out to a five-star meal, Mr. Valedictorian?”

“Wow, what a way to show off.” Sakura pursed her lips in annoyance. “Don’t worry Naruto, I got your next café order.”

“Ah no. It was just something we heard from the grape vine.” Naruto scratched his head and carefully glanced at Sasuke. “Grumpy got his trust fund today.”

In bated breaths, they waited for him to respond with a scowl or a retort, but he just nodded. “Come on, we’ll miss the train.”

They traveled for three stations and disembarked on the fourth, Sasuke sandwiched in between the two, his shoulders pillows again to their heads and yet such burdens were light as cotton. The surfacing emotions since last week were taking hold of him, but he needed to pull through somehow because breaking down while commuting was one thing he did not really see doing.

“Word just got in. The house was turned over this morning,” Itachi told him over the phone.

“Impeccable timing when I’m also moving abroad next week.” Sasuke pulled out his Bleachers vinyl and anticipated another lonesome lull for the night.

“Do you miss the cream puffs?”

“Nothing comes close.”

“Hmm. I’ll pay for the rental fee of your car.”

In Itachi’s defense, while he was an afficionado of escapism, he also knew how to read between the lines. “Watch me get a Mercedes-Benz.”

“I have a good driving playlist.” This only meant math rock, and Sasuke wanted something to scream his lungs too.

“Don’t need one.”

“Treat your friends to dinner, okay? Gotta go.”

“We’re walking?!” Naruto almost limped out of the train. Sasuke took one look at his heels and saw that they were bruised red. He took off his converse and socks and gave them to him.

Sakura whipped out a small first-aid kit and covered the rash on Naruto’s heels. “Hey don’t look at me like that. Brought it just in case we’re going on a day survival tour. A camping would be nice too.”

“Did you scrub your feet, idiot?”

“You think so low of me grumpy. Of course – last week!”

With Naruto now comfortable, the three resumed walking on the unfamiliar residential area. Sasuke gestured for them to enter a bamboo forest on the far side of the main road. Hidden in the shadows of the clumped stalks were a small opening, the growth hampered and ground rid of grasses and weeds; many people have also chosen this shortcut, walked through the forest, did a little nature bathing, and emerged behind the bakery, still there, still standing, still operating.

Sasuke tapped on the large glass window cum counter on the front and bought three sets of cream puffs.

“Oh, it’s you,” the old baker greeted. “You brought your friends over? You always buy one set.”

Sasuke offered her a smile, briefly glancing to his periphery where Sakura was fussing with Naruto’s feet, and nodded as he accepted the paper bag. “It’s on the house, kid.”

“You brought us to stalk someone’s house?” Sakura dug in one paper bag, bit the puff in one bite, and with full mouth, she sighed. “This is heaven.”

“It’s our old family house, before the accident that is.” Sasuke also took out one puff and munched on it, ruminating on the sight before him, a two-story house with an imposing façade, his mom’s climbing hydrangea gone and cut by the new owners, beds of roses and daisies already withered, but the wisteria tree on the vacant lot beside continued to grow and shade what he supposed were the children’s rooms. It was in his third bite that he saw the tomato fruits he planted, alive and full with harvest. “Do you think my parents know?”

Naruto slid an arm across his shoulder and grinned sheepishly. “Then they would be happy ghosts or maybe they would voluntarily move away to give the new owners the opportunity to make it a happy a home like yours.

“What part are you gonna miss?” Sakura asked, halfway through her set of puffs.

“The sight of the wisteria before I sleep and after I wake up, and the sunlight in my parents’ room. My dad liked to make these suncatchers for my mom. The play of light was a good morning greeting, she said.”

“What’s your funniest memory?” Naruto sat on the grass, uncaring for the stains that would taint his good pair of pants.

“It was probably Christmas when I was seven, and Itachi had this big idea to bake a cake, but he swapped the sugar for the salt and we were wondering why it wouldn’t make a custard. Our parents still ate it, saying it was a very salty version of dark chocolate cake.”

“It was a good home,” Sakura patted the space between her and Naruto and Sasuke sat down cross-legged too, dipping his hand on the paper bag with the last cream puff.

“It was a good home,” Sasuke agreed as he bit into the last vestige of his family memory. He was suckling the powdered sugar off his fingers when he realized he was already crying, and the two were downright sobbing on his either side.

Such an embarrassing sight to see; he wondered what would the new owners feel if they looked out their windows this instant and saw three teenagers breaking down on the road across. It was honestly stupid and laughable to a point, considering how funny it was for grief to become lighter when someone else cried with him.

Naruto was sniffling so much that he had to offer his handkerchief to him. “I forgot to tell you guys. Hinata confessed to me during the cultural festival.”

“Oh my god. What did you say?” Sakura took a tissue out of her bag and dabbed her eyes. She flashed an apologetic look to Sasuke who already offered his hanky to Naruto’s fluids.

“Ah, what else? I had to reject her.” Naruto sneezed on Sasuke’s handkerchief again. “I told her I was in love with someone else.” He slyly glanced at his raven-haired friend and pursed his lips which Sakura quickly caught.

“Who is it?”

“Sasuke also likes someone.”

“Shut your mouth, blondie. Point is already moot. Besides, we’ve already been rejected.”

“Who are these people and why don’t I know them?” Sakura genuinely looked offended. “I could have vetted them!”

“Exactly why it was fortunate you didn’t meet them,” Sasuke said as an excuse though he pegged Sakura for not being that naïve. She, thankfully, let it go and gathered their trash. She dropped the bomb as she was brushing the grass blades from her trousers. “My parents are divorcing. Such a travesty not to have them show up on graduation day, and I thought I did a great job.”

The two, ever so sure, held onto her hands in case she was trembling again.

“Let’s get that five-star dinner,” Sasuke suggested, “and we need to rent a Mercedes-Benz.”

--------------------------------

Graduation Day

“Let’s welcome to the stage, class valedictorian, Uchiha Sasuke.” Kakashi was the officiating faculty today so she expected difficulty going through the event, but for some reason, he slipped into her mental back burner, no longer taking up room in her active consciousness. That was a good step, she smiled to herself. Her smile became wider as Sasuke got up the stage.

His fans club’s cheers were heard outside the auditorium, and the graduating class chuckled at the quick interruption. He cleared his throat and started his piece.

“Please get it on record that I was coerced to do this speech. Then again, I also had a hand on the turn of events that led me here today, in front of you. And it’s a little too on the nose, but I came to high school with a clear set of goals – have high grades and lead an uninteresting life. I accomplished the first one rather easily, and it’s a good metric for the future that’s upon us right now. Good grades land us good colleges. Good colleges land us good jobs. Good jobs land us good life.

But it’s not the sole benchmark as I have learned lately. You see, my second goal really missed the mark. Good life can also mean good friends, fun experiences, a caring environment, a complete family. If you ticked off each one, then that’s very notable. You have the four-leaf clover, and it’s a rare blessing. I only ticked off three, but that goes without any regret. If you only have one silver lining in your high school memory, then that makes us all the more human. And if there’s none, there is still is still a whole stretch of possibilities we can discover to find one. Thank you for your kind attention.”

Sakura was pretty sure she heard several sniffles across the student body. “The bastard delivered a good speech,” she muttered to herself.

“We would like to welcome our first national MVP, Uzumaki Naruto.”

Outside, the school band played the cheering anthem for his last national games. The cheerleaders also did a routine in tribute to him. That made him well up when he got to the podium.

“Wait oh my god, I’m tearing up so much.”

Sasuke grunted loudly and went back the stage to hand him a handkerchief which Naruto quickly used to wipe his snot.

“Thanks Sasuke. How can Kakashi-sensei let me follow after that rousing speech, and before Sakura too. It’s kinda evil.”

Laughter broke out.

“Well, this one’s a bare minimum. I didn’t have any goals or expectations, unlike genius grumpy over there. I just wanted to live my life like an ordinary boy. Someone said that how you spend your day is how you live your life so I did just that – ate ramen, slept in class because I am a growing kid, and played each arcade game until I won them. I also believe in serendipitous – thanks Sakura for this word, for the spelling and meaning – serendipitous coincidences. I just pitched and batted for former captain Haru one afternoon and now we landed in the national finals. I had loneliness for a friend, but now I’ve got all of you. And you know what else, the magic of working together. We wouldn’t have stepped foot in the nationals if it weren’t for your collective help. When we work towards a common goal, that also gives us common happiness, right? It’s infectious, a bouncing energy that gets thrown around and still makes it one piece. So wherever you will be after this, believe it!”

When Kakashi called her name next, she thought she was deaf, the noise around her collapsed in muted decibels. It took a minute before her fellow classmates shook her and motioned for her to quickly come up the stairs. Her silver-haired teacher looked so concerned in the shadows, but for what it was worth, she was civil and calm enough (at least in the matters concerning him) to nod at him in quiet exchange of assurance.

It was because she saw both of her parents at the side with a bouquet of roses. She struggled with the paper she brought with her although she had it memorized in her head; she even went through it flawlessly for three times last night. Tears blurred the words and the mere shock of the sight of their togetherness disabled her mental function to string coherent thoughts. She also started hyperventilating, her breaths coming faster than what her lungs could pump.

Then she felt Kakashi’s hand on her shoulder, a steady presence, and it reeled her back to reality. He tapped the mic and the feedback echoed. “Ah, Ms. Haruno had some technical issues. Again, let’s welcome former student council president, Sakura.”

Sasuke and Naruto in the front were almost standing, but she flashed them a smile as if to say she was okay now. “Hello, good day to our honorable guests and graduates. I think it’s safe to say that Sasuke and Naruto provided really good words of advice. So I have nothing more to offer, but to share my gratitude. Everyone was saying the student council did a good job in its programs, but it was actually the lot of you who made this possible – from your activity suggestions to participation and feedback. After all, you were the makers of your memories.

Earlier last week, my councilmates and friends reminded me how small actions go a long way – a smile, a wave across the hallway, a short exchange of good morning and see you soon, and I thought, aren’t we all just an accumulation of these small, little things? As such, it was what you think your insignificant moments were that pushed us to deliver you the best. It was the passing comment, the top-of-your-head tips, the interlude stories we hear during lunch breaks that allowed us to give you grand gestures and memories we hoped were worth keeping. And if we could start to use that perspective as well in our lives then maybe the uncertainties of a future wouldn’t be so heavy on us. We will face tomorrow with a lightness in being.

In behalf of the student council, thank you for allowing us to serve you.”

She bowed at a level where her torso was almost aligned at her hips, and she was confused with the lack of reaction. Sakura sighed, mulling over the deficiencies in her speech, but she straightened her back to a sight of a standing ovation and a thundering applause.

Then, she let her tears fall.

--------------------------------

“Why would you let Kakashi-sensei take the pic?” Sakura hissed at them.

“Just this one time, Sakura!” Naruto grinned.

“Sakura, you’re out of the frame,” Kakashi remarked. “Okay good. Say cheese.”

In spite of her recent heartbreak with him, she permitted herself to bask in fleeting cordiality. “Cheese.”

“Grumpyyyyyy.”

“Idiot blondie.”

Kakashi took three more shots and handed the camera to the trio. He almost turned away when Sakura caught his sleeve.

“Just one more,” she said. “With you.”

Sakura shifted to the front, almost kneeling with the camera angled for a selfie, her two friends beside her looking equally annoyed as the other, and Kakashi behind them, his hands on either head, smiling with his deceptively charming beauty mark.

It was the last picture of their high school life.

--------------------------------

The three were rushing through the airport crowd fifteen minutes before the immigration closes gates.

“Here!” Sakura slid a folder on the large pocket on Sasuke’s bag. “It includes your passport, your flight details, your valid IDs, your itinerary, and letters from us! Don’t forget our Friday video calls!”

“I can’t see. These tears are bullies,” Naruto said through tears. He was continuously wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

“And If I don’t get on my flight because you made us eat ramen for one last time and the orders took too long, I’m gonna have you cursed by a witch and a shaman!” Sasuke growled. The guards were starting to close the gates when a sobbing Naruto sprinted and basically tackled the guards on the floor.

“Sasuke come on, hurry up!”

“Drink your vitamins! And if you miss cream puffs, I’ll teach you how to make them.” Sakura was trying hard to keep pace with Sasuke’s brisk walking, but she ended up breathless anyway.

The three of them finally reached the immigration entrance, and Naruto was profusely apologizing to the guards for the interruption. Sasuke showed his documents, wheezing as they looked at it. They gave him a thumbs up and opened the gates.

The two were already slumped at the floor, waving without words, and exhausted from the clock race. Sasuke was almost through when he remembered something he forgot. He muttered a quick sorry, ran through the opening, and hugged his two friends.

“I’ll miss you.”

#SCPS #student council president sakura #haruno sakura #uchiha sasuke #uzumaki naruto #hatake kakashi #team 7 #sasusaku #kakasaku #narusaku #fic!pseudolily #fic!pinkhairedlily

19 notes · View notes

waynewifey · 4 years ago

Text

Reunited —

Pairing: POA!Sirius Black x reader; young!Sirius Black x Slytherin!reader.

Summary: (request from @holdupwhat) hey there! can i request a sirius x slytherin!reader? maybe sirius and reader reunite after sirius escapes from azkaban but reader is unsure about him. angsty with a fluffy ending? thanks btw love your works!

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: angsty, mentions of death, crying, fluff?, bad writing lol

A/N: I got very excited but idrk how to write angst?? I tried my best tho, hope you like it. <3 Oh, and english isn’t my first language so I’m sorry for any mistakes. Flashbacks in italic!

(gif not mine)

Godric’s Hollow’s streets were strangely empty for a summer afternoon. All doors and windows were closed, not a single car passing by. Complete silence in the village, if not for the tapping sound of your sandals. You walked down the sidewalk, to your neighbour’s cottage, slightly holding the skirt of your white dress. Once at their door, you knocked three times. A couple seconds later, an old lady answers, pointing her wand at your face.

“Oh, it’s just you.” She lowers her wand, getting out of behind the door. “How can I help you, Ms. (Y/L/N)?”

“Hello, Mrs. Clearwater.” You smiled. “I was baking some cookies and ran out of brown sugar, I was wondering if you could lend me some. The Seven Swans is closed, for some strange reason.”

“Of course honey! Come inside, it’s not safe to be outside at down anymore.” You walked in, smelling the known vanilla scent. She closed the door, running to the kitchen, already grabbing a small bowl with the brown sugar.

“Um, I’m sorry Mrs. Clearwater, but why you say it’s not safe anymore? Does that has something to do with the reason why the village is void?” You asked, and she gave you a scared look from the counter. She looked around, the emerald eyes searching for something. Finally, she grabbed a newspaper and handed it to you. The Daily Prophet.

BLACK STILL AT LARGE, said the article’s title. Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today; under a picture of him screaming.

“The Ministry said he could come back here. Many murderers tend to visit where they killed their victims.” She said, replacing the paper in your hands for the bowl. You thanked her with a weak smile; no words would come out of your mouth. You walked away, with your mind still a little numb.

You whimpered, your hand in front of your mouth, holding a sob. You stared at the black lake, salty tears rolling down your chubby cheeks. You took off your green tie and threw it on the grass. It was the reason why all of that happened. Simply because you were a Slytherin, you had to hear those terrible words from James Potter. You hated it, and wished you could be sorted to Gryffindor like the rest of your family. Suddenly, you felt a warm hand on your left shoulder, which made you flinch. A boy with black curls seated beside you, his grey eyes meeting your gaze. You looked at his tie; red, of course.

“Want to bully me some more? Go ahead, I don’t care anymore.” You sobbed, your vision getting blurred from the tears.

“No, I’m here to say that I’m sorry. I should have stopped James.” He broke eye contact, staring at the lake. “I have a brother who’s a Slytherin, Regulus Black. He’s in first year, and I wouldn’t want him to go through the same as you.” You remained quiet, wiping your tears with your hands. “My whole family is Slytherin, actually. You can call me the black sheep.” He giggled, returning his gaze to you.

“Why are you saying all this? Just go away, it’s not like you care.” Your voice broke, but you hoped he hadn’t noticed.

“I- I do care. I always thought you were fun, you see. I’m truly sorry for my friend’s attitude, I can promise you it won’t happen again. And maybe we could be friends...?” He said and you giggled, nodding. He extended his hand out. “Sirius Black.”

You grabbed it, shaking a little. “(Y/N) (L/N).”

And after that evening in second year, your friendship never ended. Instead, it only grew. You started dating in fifth year, fought against Death Eaters in seventh year and were moving in together when he was arrested.

While remembering his presence and your story, you somehow ended in front of the ruins of the Potters Cottage. (Y/E/C) eyes filled with tears as you remembered the first time you visited it, when it wasn’t destroyed, in Harry’s first birthday. You remembered the broom Sirius brought as a gift, how he held your godson and him telling you that he wanted a baby of your own. The love of your life, a murderer. He betrayed James and Lily. He killed thirteen muggles. The sky was getting darker and you could barely see the end of the street, so you decided to go home. You crossed the front garden, glancing at the door. It was slightly opened, not how you left. You were sure you locked before leaving. Your right hand automatically ran to your pocket and held tightly your wand. You raised it, opening the door with your foot. “Who’s there?” You said loudly, walking through the living room. The first floor was clear, so you went up stairs. Your heartbeat accelerated at each step. You opened your room’s door, stepping in. A man sitting on your bed wearing a large t-shirt and sweatpants, his long black hair was wet and he looked down at a picture frame. “Sirius...?” You mumbled. His eyes met yours and his lips formed a wide smile. A hundred emotions busted inside of you. All the memories of the moments you spent together flashed through your mind. “Love.” His voice was hoarse and low. Black stood up and walked towards you. “You stay where you are! Not one more step. I- I’m warning you! I won’t hesitate.” Sirius stopped, his smile breaking. Your mind was racing. There was a murderer inside of your house, but he was also the man you loved. For the first ten years you tried to collect evidence that he was innocent, that he was not the monster everyone thought but there wasn’t proof enough and you gave up eventually. Your mind raised expectations that maybe you were right, maybe he was innocent, maybe if he explained everything... Deep down you trusted him, but fear spoke out first. “You- Why here?” “You know I’m innocent. You know it was Wormtail-“ “YOU KILLED HIM! James, Lily, Peter, it’s all your fault! And you have the courage to come here? You betrayed everyone, Sirius Black! You betrayed me! You’re a monster. I don’t want to see you ever again. I won’t take you to the ministry, but you better leave.” You felt the same pain and anger you felt in November 81. Your heart broke again, just by seeing him standing there, hoping you would help him. “(Y/N) I-“ He stared at you, tears falling while you held yours. “Leave.” And then he was gone.

Living without Sirius Black again was worse that you could imagine. It took you ten years to finally recover, and now the sore was open again. Every night your words tormented you, filling you with regret. You was always reading the news, would it be better if they found him or not? What if he was already dead? Was he alone, lost in the world?

It was late May when Remus Lupin, an old school friend, showed up at your front door. He looked tired and sick, with dark circles around his eyes. You invited him in.

“I came from Hogwarts.” He was anxious, almost tense.

“You’ve been teaching, right? Defense against the dark arts, if I remember it correctly. Harry writes me sometimes, usually at Christmas, when I send him presents. He likes you.” You poured some tea on his cup, smiling proudly at the thought of your godson.

“Yes, exactly. But I’m not here to talk about Harry.” He sipped the beverage. “I met with Sirius. He gave us some trouble, actually.” You stared at him, holding your breath. “You have to believe me, he is innocent. But unfortunately we can’t prove it. He told me he came here and that he misses you.”

“Where is he now?” Your voice broke a little, while you hold your tears.

“His family house. Are you willing to meet him?” You only nodded, getting up.

At 12 Grimmauld Place, Sirius and Remus explained everything to you. You were relieved to finally know the truth and to be reunited with your husband. You three spent the night chatting and telling your stories from the past few years. Around 11pm Lupin left for his room, wishing you a good night. You sat on the couch next to the fireplace resting your head on Sirius’s chest, his arm embracing you and his hand laying on your waist.

“I’m sorry for what I said before. I- I don’t know, I guess I believed for so long that you were this horrible person, and-” You tried to explain, but he cut you with a kiss on your lips. Merlin, you missed him so much.

“It’s okay, I understand. The house is a little dusty, but we can make it work.” He said, staring at the fire.

“You want me to stay?” He turned to you, a confused look on his eyes as it was so obvious. You could see your reflection on his grey orbits, given the small distance between you. You brushed your fingers through his curls, smelling his natural sweet perfume.

“Of course I want you to stay. I would like to be your handsome husband again, if you’ll have me as so.” Sirius giggled and leaned closer, kissing the top of your forehead. You entangled your fingers with a smile. It felt so good to be reunited again, this time with no worries, just the certainty that they both loved each other. He looked at you, as you were his whole world and cupped you face with his big hands. “I love you, (Y/N)(L/N).”

“I love you too, Sirius Black.”

#harry potter imagines #sirius black x yn #sirius black #sirius x y/n #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #request #remus lupin x y/n #remus mention #sirius angst #fluff imagine #angst imagine #marauders era #marauders x reader #marauders fanfiction #sirius orion black

97 notes · View notes

catboymingi · 4 years ago

Text

the evil queen’s revenge - veninder chap. 7

navi/masterlist

story masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: angst, fluff; eventual (soon!) best friends to lovers

word count: 7.2k

warnings: attempted assault, low self-esteem related to that

a/n: this chapter is sponsored by a random european bops youtube playlist and my spotify emo playlist and maybe you can tell, it’s a rollercoaster of emotions right here

louise har truet mig / lige siden jeg forlod dig - louise has been threatening me / right since i left you

the more time you spent with the boys (mainly mingi, still), the more you seemed to thrive. they noticed, and they were incredibly glad about it. the tall redhead had managed to catch up enough by the second tuesday of knowing you that he managed to convince your professor to let him join the class, taking some sort of unofficial entrance test and doing great. maybe it was partly because you were a teacher’s favourite, too, that the professor hadn’t seemed like he minded at all - any student you brought would be a good one, he was sure, and when the boy informed him that he’d spent the past week studying with you it seemed like the test was only a formality so people wouldn’t be able to say he was being unfair or picking favourites.

you still got lunch with them daily, stayed the night sometimes, sometimes mingi stayed at your place, and by the second pyjama party with them, a week after the first, you weren’t even hesitant about sharing the bed with your best friend, a fact mingi still rubbed into the boys’ faces, liking how warm and cuddly he was and how he’d sometimes tell you a bedtime story. the second pyjama party had been even more fun than the first, owed to the fact that there had been no unpleasant spooky surprises, and you’d convinced the boys to let you put on a random ‘european bops’ youtube playlist, which they ended up enjoying more than they’d admit. you’d even forced them to learn the macarena, the highlight of the entire night, in your opinion. they were fun, and though they did complain a little you knew it was all in good fun - they complained the same way that you’d complain about losing their games.

your old friends seemed to still be plotting - another two weeks after the first pyjama party the most that had happened was insults and trying to get you to trip over their legs, but compared to the laptop thing it was incredibly harmless. that you still had to solve somehow, but you tried to not think about it right now, tried to ignore the worry that was present near-constantly when you weren’t with the boys, instead focusing on how much better you felt now even with having to worry like that. and because you felt so safe and good around them you agreed when mingi told you that they wanted to go to a party that weekend; one of wooyoung’s friends was hosting and had invited them, and because you were a part of their friend group now they wanted you to join. there was a chance your old friends would be there, but in that moment you honestly forgot about that because you were excited to spend more time with your new ones.

the night of the party you did get a bad case of nerves though, texting mingi to come over because you didn’t know what to wear. boys had it so easy - they could just wear near whatever and it wasn’t a big deal. maybe not sandals and socks, but even that would probably be looked over in favour of a girl that hadn’t done her hair decently. you, however, were very aware of needing to look good, and the redhead had become your fashion advisor.

“which one’s better?”, you asked him, holding out two dresses that, in his humble opinion, would both look absolutely amazing on you. he chose to be a simp, however, telling you to wear the red one because he said it would contrast well with your black hair. secretly he just wanted to match with you, because he was wearing all black with bright red hair, and you’d be wearing a bright red dress with black hair. though he was convinced his excuse was good you’d noticed the matching part of his choice as well, and maybe you would have teased him about it, but after having spent several weeks with him you’d joined the ‘being completely whipped’ squad and were glad to have an excuse to match with him. plus, though you weren’t conceited, you knew you looked great in bright colours. it was a good choice.

that was confirmed when you came out from your bathroom and mingi’s jaw all but dropped to the floor. sure, you’d been dressed up when he first met you, but you’d also been soaking wet, so your hair and makeup weren’t exactly doing great, and you’d been covered in jackets and sweatshirts the boys had generously spared to keep you from catching pneumonia. now, however, your hair was put up in a way that left him wondering how on earth you’d managed to do that without ruining your curls, and your lips were painted black (a small residual style choice from your alternative days), contrasting amazingly with your red eyeshadow. the dress complimented your body, and you’d shown him the shoes you’d picked earlier already, black chunky combat boots because you didn’t want to have to walk home wearing heels and didn’t feel pressured to wear them anymore. he knew you were pretty, of course he knew, but now you looked breathtaking. he felt a little underdressed, in comparison.

“this looks fine?”

he just nodded, not exactly trusting himself to not let out a bunch of embarrassing compliments if he were to speak, and you smiled. his expression told you that it most definitely did look fine, so you weren’t too worried, instead opting to ruffle his hair a little because it, in your opinion, was too tame.

“better”, you informed him once the deed was done, “now you’re bad boy-passing.”

maybe the outwardly quite intimidating redhead would have told you that he was a bad boy, but considering how you’d chosen to call him teddy bear instead of his name he didn’t think that one would hold up, not with you, not when he frequently found himself cuddling into you and generally reinforcing his friends’ belief that he was a simp.

“let’s go?”

mingi nodded again, grabbing your hand (during another neglected spin the bottle game he’d found out you liked holding hands but were shy to be the one to grab someone else’s hand, and he gladly took the role of the grabber) and went to the door with you, stopping only to put your shoes on.

“we’ll meet the others at the party”, he then informed you, and now it was you who nodded. you left your apartment (and because you were excited and anxious about the party you’d forgotten to bring a jacket), walking towards the train station looking like a couple to anyone who looked because mingi very much was holding your hand again with the excuse that you’d be cold otherwise. it was the weird half-season between spring and summer, so you would actually have been a little cold and his excuse held up, but you wouldn’t have complained either way.

on the train you used your very first monthly pass, a gift from mingi who had insisted on getting it for you because it would be cheaper than paying for single trips all the time, and you knew he wouldn’t let you pay yourself because, as he explained, it was only because of him you even needed to take the train so often. in return you’d secretly snooped around and managed to figure out that mingi loved ramen, and bought him a massive supply that he couldn’t tell you to keep because it was meat flavoured. when you grinned at him as you informed him of your inability to eat it he looked like he was about to fight you, but instead he just told you he’d get back at you for this. you knew he would, but you weren’t too worried - he wasn’t one for extravagant gifts, he just seemed to like getting people small things that they could get a use out of.

now you were on the train with him, his head on your shoulder because you knew that if you put yours on his he’d either be stabbed or tickled by your curls, and he seemed to have realised that as well. his hands were playing with your fingers because it seemed like a small part of him had to be moving whenever, though it didn’t bother you. he was able to sit still, and it wasn’t anything you’d ever be distracted by if he kneaded his own hands while sitting next to you.

“you know when we need to get off, right?”, you asked him after a few minutes, and he hummed in affirmation.

“two more stops.”

“then maybe you shouldn’t be falling asleep.” his movements had slowed down, a sure sign that he was getting either incredibly comfortable or incredibly tired or both, and you didn’t want to have to drag a half-asleep mingi to the party. even less than that did you want to be at the party with a half-asleep mingi.

“i’m not falling asleep”, the redhead protested and sat up straight, as if to prove it.

“i know, i’m just teasing you”, and he smiled at you.

“i know. but i’m still not falling asleep. one hundred percent ready to party.”

sillyhead. but he managed to make you laugh with that, and his smile got bigger because he loved it when he was the reason you were laughing.

your best friend’s hand was still forcibly attached to yours when you got off the train, using it to drag you to wherever the party was with little consideration of your shorter legs until you pulled his arm, trying to get his attention to the fact that it was hard to keep up.

“sorry”, with his signature sheepish grin, and you couldn’t be annoyed when he was cute like that. though you’d still deny it if someone brought it up - mainly because you knew he didn’t feel the same and it’d only been three weeks since you’d met him - you were completely whipped, but how could you not be when he might just have the softest personality you’d ever gotten to meet?

the last few minutes of the way were spent walking at a more comfortable pace, and it was easy to tell which house the party was in, given the loud music and bright lights. it was a familiar environment, though you felt better about it with mingi there and the boys waiting than you would’ve with your old group of friends.

and as if on cue, you both got a message in hyung hate club, the group chat whose name no one had ever bothered to change.

[wooyoung]: are u there?? were inside already

though inside proved itself to be quite a wide area, as you noticed when you did go inside. it was hard to find anyone in the crowd of people, and because a certain someone had neglected to use the toilet at your place he told you he had some big girl business to do before he kept looking, instead searching for the toilet with you. he did find it, much to his delight, and told you to wait for a moment while he did what his body desperately begged him to do.

while he was on the toilet you were waiting for him near the bathroom door, your eyes wandering across the room as you did so. you were currently looking at a particularly flashy light, slightly distracted by the way it changed colours, so you didn’t notice that some guy had come up to you until you found yourself cornered against the wall.

“hey pretty”, he cooed, his voice disgusting and slick and you knew you didn’t like this situation.

“your friends told me you need a boyfriend, hm?” and as soon as he mentioned these friends that you knew most definitely were not your friends any longer you knew you were in deep trouble, breath starting to speed up as you started to fear whatever was about to happen now. you turned your head away from him, a desperate attempt to get him to back off, but he grabbed your chin and made you look back at him.

“not even gonna give me a kiss?” you tried to turn your head away again, but his grip was too strong, so instead you opted to cover your mouth with your hands, desperate to not let him kiss you, not have him take this first away from you. he tsked at this action, trying to pry your hands from your face, and he had almost succeeded when…

“get your fucking hands off.” he was harshly grabbed by the shoulder, and then a man who you now saw to be san hit him square in the face, causing him to stumble backwards and leave, cursing.

“where’s mingi?”, your friend asked, turning towards your distressed figure.

“toilet”, you told him, and then, near begging: “can we please go home?” he immediately nodded at the desperation in your voice, gently grabbing your hand and pulling you towards where the other boys were sitting, telling them that you were going home now and to tell mingi once he found them, and that he’d let them know what happened later. they didn’t question him, seeing clearly that you weren’t okay in the slightest, and he took you to their place.

that night was spent in san’s bed, in san’s arms, crying against his chest without explaining just why exactly you were so upset. it didn’t matter much to him either, he didn’t need the full context, knowing that some creep had tried to assault you was enough to make him fume even without the knowledge of you being so desperate to save all your firsts that you’d never gone on a date or had a partner or kissed anyone yet in your almost 21 years of life, because you didn’t want it to be with someone that didn’t mean it, and your past friends knew this about you and that was exactly why they’d sent this dude after you. he just let you cry, stroking your hair until you fell asleep, and then grabbing his phone and quickly explaining just what situation you’d been in when he found you.

when mingi heard what happened he couldn’t stand himself, couldn’t stand to face you, because he was convinced it was all his fault for having left you alone rather than dropping you off with his friends before going to the toilet. it wouldn’t have been a big deal, it hadn’t been that urgent, and it would’ve saved you so much pain, and he was convinced you felt the same way, that you’d chosen to spend the night in san’s arms because you never wanted to have to deal with him again.

and rather than talking about it with you he started ignoring you. you came over daily now, just wanting to be distracted (the girls had resumed making your life a living hell the best they could, barely giving you a break) and wanting to have someone there, but as soon as mingi heard the doorbell he’d take off to his room and not leave until he knew you’d gone to bed or back home. it hurt you to see him act like this because you didn’t have any explanation for his behaviour, and neither did the boys, because he refused to talk to them about anything related to you. so you spent your nights in san’s arms instead of your best friend’s, crying into his chest on the daily because you felt wrong and bad and you were convinced mingi hated you. you asked san more than once what you’d done wrong for mingi to ignore your texts, your calls, everything, not sitting with the group during lunch, plain refusing to acknowledge you existed, for mingi to not even open your messages anymore starting day 3 after the horrible party. and san wished he could tell you, but he didn’t know. he just hoped his friend would get over himself soon.

when eight days after the party you still hadn’t exchanged a single word with mingi you found yourself crying in san’s arms again, late at night, scared that you’d lost the comforting giant forever.

“i just don’t know why he hates me”, you sobbed. “am i that disgusting? is that it? that he can’t stand to look at me anymore now that that creep’s had his hands on me and tried that shit. that he knows how fucking dirty i am now, how worthless and wrong and filthy. that he finally realised that i’m not worth it and that i never was and that he just can’t stand to be near me because he’s scared i’m gonna taint him, too, i’m gonna make him dirty and bad and unwantable and i’m gonna- i’m gonna-” you couldn’t finish, violent sobs taking over, and san was fuming. up until now he hadn’t known just what kind of thoughts his supposed friend’s behaviour was putting in your head, and he was ready to deliver an ass-kicking now that he knew. but right now you needed him more, so the confrontation would have to wait.

you left early the next morning, and while it was obvious that you weren’t okay the boy that had been your anchor this past week didn’t try to stop you because he really had some business to sort with mingi. the boys quickly noticed that something was up, the expression on their friend’s face one that made them feel sorry for his victim. but when he informed them just how much of an ignorant ass the red-haired idiot had been they quickly were just as ready to commit something that would most definitely send them to jail.

“mingi!”, wooyoung screamed when the one in question still hadn’t left his room, even an hour after you’d left. when he got no reaction, san and jongho took off to his room, opening the door with more force than necessary, considering it wasn’t even locked, but they were pissed, and they wanted to let mingi know that he was in trouble.

“what?”, came an annoyed question from his bed, but they didn’t care to answer, instead dragging him to the living room with them.

“what the fuck is your issue?”, he snapped, entirely unaware of the fact that right now it was him who had an issue.

“the better question is what the fuck your issue is”, san hissed out. “the fuck are you thinking, ignoring y/n like that?”

“i’m not-”

“cut the bullshit. what the fuck’s wrong with you? you know what happened and you got nothing better to do than to act like you hate her guts.” these words were surprisingly harsh for yunho, but like all the others he’d felt protective over you ever since that night he’d seen you in mingi’s bed, wrapped up in him. and unlike his idiot of a friend, he knew that you were deeply in love with the dumbass, and that his current behaviour was breaking your heart.

“i don’t hate her”, he stated, calmer now that he knew they were worrying about you. he was worrying about you, too, so he couldn’t blame them for how they were acting.

“for that you sure do act like it.”

“don’t act like she cares. she seems more than happy to be sleeping in san’s bed instead”, mingi spat out bitterly and it took a lot of self restraint for san to not punch him square like he’d punched the guy at the party.

“she’s been sleeping there because you wouldn’t fucking talk to her, you complete moron. do you even know how often she’s cried herself to sleep because of that? because she didn’t know what she did? and i couldn’t even comfort her because i didn’t know either, because you refuse to stop acting like a pissbaby and tell us what’s up, at least. you know what she thinks the issue is?”

“i-” but he didn’t even let him finish.

“she thinks you’re disgusted with her. that you got some weird purity issue and now that that asshole tried to feel her up she’s no longer good enough for you and you can’t stand to look at her without puking your guts out. she feels so fucking dirty because of what happened and you won’t even try to comfort her because you got some weird thing going on when she needs you. you’re supposed to make her feel better but you just make her feel worse.” his hands were clenched into fists, his entire body tense, knowing that if he didn’t put all his focus into firing out words like bullets he’d be firing out punches.

“she… what?” the tall boy was completely taken aback, staring at his friend wide-eyed as he realised just what had been going on with you while he’d been isolating himself like a selfish asshole.

“she needs you, mingi”, seonghwa said, and while he was still fuming as well his voice was a lot calmer than san’s.

“but it’s my fault she’s even feeling like this!” finally his worries, his fears, his issue had made it from something he kept overthinking about whenever you were there and didn’t even try to come into his room to something he said out loud. “if i hadn’t left her alone none of this would’ve happened. she probably hates me for that. i hate me for that.”

his friends’ expressions softened at his outburst, starting to understand just what had gone on, the misunderstanding that had kept both of you from doing what you really wanted to.

“she doesn’t hate you. she’s told me every single night that she wished you’d just fucking reply to her, dumbass.” and maybe it was the fact that san had, in fact, spent the past week with you in his arms on the daily that made mingi think that he might be right. he was still anxious, though, scared that if you weren’t angry at him for leaving you alone at the party now you were certainly angry at him for ignoring you all week.

“just message her”, hongjoong said, as if he could read his thoughts. the redhead nodded, getting out his phone right away and sending you a text.

[10/10 halattava]: wanna watch a movie tonight

you couldn’t believe your eyes. you hadn’t heard from him in so many days, your pleas for an explanation or just anything falling on deaf ears, and now here he was, asking you to watch a movie.

[y/n]: you actually mean that

you were doubtful, and really he couldn’t blame you. but he was serious.

[10/10 halattava]: can i come over later

[y/n]: whenever you want to

maybe you should have declined, maybe you should have made him suffer the way he’d made you suffer, but you weren’t the type for that. you missed him, and you just wanted things to be okay again. you wanted an explanation too, of course, but you mainly just wanted him there, holding you like he used to, making you feel safe like he used to.

[10/10 halattava]: be there soon

you knew that meant that he’d left right away, and even though part of you was angry at him the bigger part of you wanted to make sure things were nice, so you started cleaning up a little, something that had been awfully neglected lately.

before long he was in front of your door, ringing several times, impatient to finally get to see you and hold you and apologise and tell you that he was so stupid and so sorry and that you were so beautiful and that you never had to worry about him thinking that you were anything short of perfect.

when you opened he immediately flung himself into your arms, making you stumble from the sheer force, but he was holding on to you, he was there and he wouldn’t let you fall, wouldn’t let you get hurt.

“im so fucking stupid”, he told you, his arms wrapped so tightly around you that it felt like you were the only thing keeping him standing right now. he didn’t want to let go, and he didn’t, loosening his embrace so you could move to close the door but keeping his arms around you. and the way he seemed so desperate made all the angry words you’d intended to throw at him vanish, instead a small sob escaped your lips.

“i missed you”, you said, and his grip around you tightened.

“i missed you, too. so much.” you were glad to hear it, but you were also incredibly confused.

“then why didn’t you talk to me? ignore all my texts, my calls, everything?” you sounded so weak and so hurt, the way you were sobbing into his chest, that he in all honesty felt inclined to text san and tell him to punch him as hard as he could once he got back home.

“because i’m an idiot. i was scared you hated me because i left you alone at that fucking party, and i didn’t want to hear you say it, so i just hid. i’m so sorry.” his cheek was pressed against your hair, taking in how soft it was and how you smelled and you. he’d missed you so fucking much.

“you are an idiot”, you informed him, but you moved away a little to smile up at him through your tears, “i’d never hate you. promise.”

“and i’d never ever ever think less of you because some imbecile fuckface couldn’t control his hormones. ever.” you nodded silently, but something about the way you avoided his gaze again now told him that there was still something on your mind.

“really, i mean it”, he reassured you, but that wasn’t the issue.

“it’s not some hormone issue”, you said quietly, and he looked at you surprised. what else should it be?

“my… the girls. they sent him, he told me. because they knew it’d fuck me up and over, because they know so much about me.” you tried to keep your breath steady, taking a small moment before you resumed. “they know how much that means to me. first kiss and everything. and it’s so stupid to be so upset about that, but in that moment i was really really scared that he’d just be my first kiss and i’d never be able to get it back, and that just… really messed with me. it’s some stupid hopeless romantic shit but it’s just important to me. something that actually means something.”

you couldn’t interpret his expression, and you were scared he was going to make fun of you, but instead he pulled you into his chest again, holding you so tightly that it got a little hard to breathe, but you didn’t care because it was comforting to be so close to him.

“if they ever try to pull that shit again they better run”, he said more as a statement than directed towards you, and his voice sounded so incredibly threatening that you’d be scared if it wasn’t mingi, if it wasn’t the one that you knew would do all he could to protect you.

“i just… they really hate me, y’know?”, you mumbled into his chest. “they use everything they know means something to me to hurt me.”

“i won’t let them.” and the way he said it almost made you believe him, almost made you believe that he could actually stop them from ever hurting you again. you smiled up at him again, so grateful, so beautiful, his heart was beating so hard he was scared it’d jump out of his chest, and even though he knew it was stupid and even though he knew right now was horrible timing and even though he knew he really really shouldn’t ask you this now, or maybe ever, the words slipped past his lips before he could stop himself.

"can i kiss you?" he was so close. so close that you could see the way his eyes sparkled, you could see that they weren't as pitch black as they tended to look, instead they were a really warm dark brown with the pupil being just a few shades darker than the rest. and you wanted to say yes. you did, but…

"no." he was surprised, but backed away immediately.

"i'm sorry. i should’ve known, right now’s the worst time to ask. i didn't want to make you uncomfortable." you sighed.

"it's not that, it's… you're all i have, you and the boys, and i… i don't want to lose that. and i know that if i let you kiss me and then you figure out you don't actually like me that way when i like you that way, i would lose you. i wouldn't be able to just be your friend after that, and i wouldn't be able to see the boys anymore either, because i can't make them choose but seeing you would hurt too much, and i don't want to risk that. i can't risk that, not after everything that happened when i risked something for you the first time. it turned out okay then!", you quickly said as you noticed his expression, as you noticed that he seemed to think you regretted ever becoming their friend in the first place, "because i had you there. but… but if this happens and i'm alone, i know i couldn't handle it. i couldn't handle losing you, not after everything that happened, and… if they found out that you kissed me, even if we're no longer talking, hell would break loose all over again. and this time i wouldn't have anyone. and it would be so much harder because i wouldn't just be dealing with them, i'd also be dealing with the heartbreak and i… i just know that'd be too much. that'd kill me, mingi."

he nodded slowly, and you first noticed that tears had started falling from your eyes again when he gently wiped them away with his thumb. he could understand you, understand your fears, and even though he knew it wasn't like that for him, it wasn't something he would change his mind on later, he was very aware that you couldn't know that, that you weren't able to look into his head and heart. in a way maybe he felt the same way about you, scared that you didn't and would never like him this way even though you had just clearly told him that the problem was that you did like him this way and wouldn't be able to handle the rejection if it was him who didn't reciprocate. he got it. but he wanted to prove to you that he meant it.

"what do i do, then?", he asked you while looking at you with soft but curious eyes.

"what do you mean?"

"do i take you out? do i throw stones at your window every night and beg for you to please give me a chance? do i write love letters? you know i'm really not that good with words, but if that convinces you i swear i'll try, i'll write you a letter every day until you send jongho to kill me because i'm embarrassing. just… just tell me what to do and i'll do it, okay?"

now it was your turn to be surprised. you'd have thought that this was a regular mingi joke if he didn't look at you all serious, if his expression didn't tell you that he one hundred percent meant it.

"i don't know", you replied honestly. "i don't want to tell you what to do, i… i want you to surprise me. show me the way you would if it was just about winning my heart, not about convincing me. the way you would if you didn't know yet that i like you."

you were embarrassed to say this, felt like you were too much of a hopeless romantic and making it harder for him than it had to be. but you didn't want the way he made advances to be planned, to be something you told him how to do so he'd for sure win your heart. you wanted it to be genuine, to be him. you wanted to see the way mingi tried to make someone fall in love, not the way mingi tried to follow the instructions you set out for him. and even though you felt like you were making things harder than they needed to be the redhead didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“okay. but i’m embarrassing.”

finally you smiled again, and if he had to embarrass himself nonstop just to keep you smiling then he would. right now, however, he just wanted to hold you some more. make sure that things were okay between you again.

“do you still want to watch a movie?”

“of course.” as if there’d ever be any time where you didn’t want to watch a movie with him. and as if that time, if it existed at all, would be now when you’d been missing his arms around you for the past week.

you waddled to the bed together, his arms still around you because he plain refused to let go of you, but then he noticed how messy and shiny your hair was and he got an idea.

“can i brush your hair while we watch it?”

even though you knew curls should technically only be brushed when wet you just couldn’t say no, not to him, and in all fairness you frequently ignored the brush while wet-rule as well, so one time more or less wouldn’t matter.

“i’ll get the brush”, you told him, starting to walk towards the bathroom, but he still wouldn’t let go of you.

“we’ll get the brush”, and it seemed like this was your fate for the day. not that you were complaining - you were glad to have him back and wanted to make up for the week where he hadn’t been there to hold you. so you waddled to the bathroom together as well, then back to the bed, and he only let go of you briefly when you had to get your laptop because without a laptop there’d be no movie. but as soon as the laptop was out of the risk zone (so, in the middle of the bed) his arms were back around you, pulling you into his chest.

“i’m sorry i ignored you”, he told you again, and you just nodded because you didn’t exactly know what to say. it had really hurt, but you didn’t want to think too much about it when he was here now. you just wanted to be held and you wanted to feel like maybe you were still okay.

“i won’t do it again. promise.” despite how much he wanted to keep holding you tight with both his arms he removed one arm from around you, instead sticking out his pinky in front of you so he could pinky promise you. this made you smile, this reassured you, even though it was childish. or maybe because it was childish - you felt like he wouldn’t pinky promise if he didn’t really mean it. so you linked your pinky with his, in a way also showing him that you accepted his apology.

“can you hand me the brush now?”

you did as asked, handing it over to him, and he carefully pushed your head forward a little. he wasn’t able to hold you anymore now that his hands were busy, but he wrapped his legs around your waist instead, not wanting to miss out on the physical contact.

“any movie suggestions?”

“moomins.” he didn’t even have to think about it - that had been your very first movie night, and the tall idiot wanted to feel that way again, comfortable and cosy and maybe with you falling asleep against him again as well.

you clicked a little and then the familiar melody filled the room. it felt homely, sitting here with your best friend, and when mingi started stroking your head a little before getting to work you thought that this moment here was actually perfect, or as close to it as could be.

that was, until he started brushing, clearly not having anticipated the way the brush would get caught in your curls so easily.

“auh!”

his movements immediately halted and he started apologising profusely, but you told him that it wasn’t that bad.

“it always hurts, i just need to get used to it a little. but it hurts less if you hold the hair near the root, so that you can prevent it from pulling too much.”

he grabbed a bit of your hair at your explanation, carefully attempting to brush again.

“like this?”

“yes, that’s better.”

so he continued, careful, gentle, and only stopped when he’d brushed about a third of your hair and noticed that it gained a lot of volume after it was brushed.

“is it supposed to do this or did i mess up?”

“do what?” you didn’t even know what your hair could be doing that would make him think he messed up - you were used to the ‘hermione granger in the first harry potter movie’ kind of look whenever you brushed your hair, but it seemed like this was the first time that the redhead dealt with curls like this.

“get so big and weird. it doesn’t look curly anymore. did i break it?”

and though you maybe shouldn’t laugh at him you couldn’t help it because he just sounded so helpless, sounded genuinely scared that he’d broken your hair.

“it’s supposed to do that”, reassuring, and you were convinced you heard him let out a relieved sigh, “you can just continue.”

he did, still gentle, trying so hard to not hurt you again, and even though he couldn’t even tell whether or not you were in pain if you didn’t let him know with your words he managed to hurt you less than you hurt yourself whenever you brushed your hair. then, when he was done, he ran his fingers through it (and it was only because he had just thoroughly brushed it that he was able to do that so easily and without getting stuck), telling you that your hair was really soft.

“i love your hair”, he informed you, still playing with it, “i think your curls are really nice.”

“that’s because they’re not on your head”, you countered, because while they did look nice they were a pain to take care of.

“maybe”, and you could hear the grin in his voice, “but i still like them.”

“fine”, you accepted, because it was a subjective opinion and he had a right to his own opinions, “i guess that’s fair.”

he continued toying with your hair, though now you’d leaned back into his chest, probably covering half his field of vision with your mane if you hadn’t, enjoying his warmth and how nice he was being. you really enjoyed this, the small acts of affection and the moomins being background noise - and they were, because you were talking instead of watching the movie, but you didn’t mind.

“is this your natural hair colour?”

the red-haired teddy bear seemed really intrigued by your hair, something you found kind of cute, to be honest. you were happy to answer, too.

“not exactly. it’s more dark brown, not this bluish black, but i like this one better. i think my natural one is kind of boring. though i’ve been considering dyeing it again, changing it up a little.”

now you most definitely had his attention.

“bright? or something natural?”

“bright”, and if you’d been able to see his face right now you’d see a happy grin on his face, because he was a firm supporter of the ‘y/n would look great with brightly coloured hair’ agenda.

“i used to have a lot of different hair colours when i was younger. kind of a way to get back at my shitty parents, but i also just liked how it looks. i used to be kind of alternative, actually.”

you grinned at the memory, but he was curious.

“like, chunky boots and all black? really dark makeup? spikes and chains and everything? that’s alternative, right?”

you nodded against him, then leaned forward a little and pulled some hair to the side to show one of your ears.

“facial piercings were a hard no, but i got so many holes punched in my ears that the local piercer knew me on a first name basis. i also have a silly secret stick and poke, on my hip bone. probably wouldn’t do it again, but i don’t regret it. i kind of miss that style, actually.”

from the corner of your eye you could see mingi look at your ear curiously, seemingly first now noticing the array of little studs in there. then, he moved to look at you, satisfied with his examination of your piercings. now he knew to get you some pretty earrings.

“why don’t you go back? to being alternative, i mean. big and scary, chunky boots.”

he was being silly, you could tell, but he was right. you’d only changed up your style because it hadn’t been appropriate for your old friends, but you didn’t have to care about that anymore.

“you can help me, if you want? help me pick out a new hair colour, i should probably start there.”

“you’d let me help you pick?”

his eyes were big and excited when you turned to look at him; he was adorable.

“i’d even let you dye my hair, if you want”, and if you hadn’t been in his lap he probably would’ve bounced with excitement.

“i want! but what colour? any ideas?”

you didn’t have even the slightest clue, so you told him that, asking if he had an idea. you could see that he did have one, but you could also tell that he was a little hesitant to tell you.

“what’re you thinking?”

“i was wondering if you’d like to go red, too. match with me?”, though he was avoiding to look at you in case you thought it was a bad idea.

“that’s emo, i like it”, a joke to hide how giddy the idea made you.

“are you saying i’m emo?”

his exasperated tone made you laugh, caused you to tease him some more.

“maybe i am, who knows?” then, change of topic. “would you want to dye my hair somewhen this week?”

“yes! which day’s best?”

“maybe after class on tuesday? if you’re coming again.”

he hadn’t come last week, but that was most likely because he hadn’t come near you at all last week.

“of course i’m coming again. i pinky promised”, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your shoulder to show you that he was here now.

“let’s do tuesday. here? or my place?”

“maybe here so we won’t block your bathroom.”

he nodded against your shoulder, happy and excited and content.

“tuesday after class, here. i’ll get the dye, so we’ll actually really match. also some bleach.”

you smiled, leaning back against him, placing your hands on his that were intertwined in front of your stomach.

“it’s a date, then.”

and he was glad that you weren’t looking at his face right now, because he had the world’s most whipped expression on his face. he had a date with you.

21 notes · View notes

mysteira6 · 4 years ago

Text

FukaFlower - Holding Your Left Hand

~*~*~*~*~

Summary:

She wasn’t gonna let him feel bad for holding his left hand.

Setting: Fukase and Flower are in the same high school grade and are around 17 - 18 years old. Also, they’re already a couple in this one-shot. Read on for fluff, angst and a little sweet moment at the end. ^3^

~*~*~*~*~

Autumn-coloured lamps decorated the streets, surrounding the many stalls by the pathway in a warm-coloured glow. Young adults in ankle-length yukatas and young children with bags of candy and treats in their hands littered the road before them, the small-talk between groups of teens and squeals of delight amongst children filling their ears. Stall owners left and right were hollering customers over, hoping to catch their attention to play their games or buy their fun-coloured snacks.

The white-haired teen blinked at the sight. “Wow,” She muttered. “I know Miku was warning us when she said this year’s carnival would be ‘packed as sardines’, but I wasn’t expecting it to be this… crowded…”

She heard a light-hearted chuckle from the young man standing beside her. “Welp, I guess that’s a lesson learnt,” He said jokingly.

“What lesson?”

As he turned to her, his scarlet right eye sparkled jovially. “That we should actually listen to the ‘popular diva’ instead of assuming that she only talks about rumours,” He noted, another laugh emerging from his mouth.

The thought of that made her narrow her eyes a little. “I’m not so sure about that, Fukase,” She murmured skeptically, shaking her head. “She talks more about gossip than anything remotely useful-”

“But if we had listened to her, then we wouldn’t be caught in this human traffic jam now, wouldn’t we?” The redhead replied, though soon after, he heaved a sigh and shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. “Oh well, we’re here anyway and the night is young, Flower! Hopefully, the crowd will thin out in a bit,”

Despite her initial disappointment of not having a peaceful stroll with him, the optimistic grin on his face was enough to wash her negativity away. Of course he would try to cheer her up like this. After all, this date was his idea, something that he came up with during their lunch hour when all the other students were talking about the upcoming summer festival and how carnivals were being set up in dozens of neighbourhoods. Given that they had just finished their school term, it seemed like a perfect time to start their summer break with a fun little getaway with just the two of them.

Flower puffed in mild annoyance. When Fukase asked her to go to the carnival in their neighbourhood together, she got giddy with excitement as she always was when it came to their dates. That was one of the strangest things about being with him; somehow, he had managed to break down her curt demeanor and unpack her sweet side that very few people saw. All it took was him being a cheerful jokester who not only tried his best to make everyone smile, but also possessed a kind heart to help anyone he could. Funny then, that he would be interested, and eventually fall in love with, a pessimistic girl who was essentially a stoic emotional wall.

Oh well. Life can be that weird sometimes. In fact, what was more weird was that as he talked to her everyday, cracking a joke here and there, Flower found herself becoming more conscious of how she presented herself in front of him. The little things that she barely cared about before gradually took priority in her appearance as he tried everyday to make her smile a little. Smoothing out her skirt and brushing her hair behind her ears were only two of the dozen things that crossed her mind as soon as she heard him talking to her.

Tonight was no exception to her new routine of fussing over her appearance; as soon as she got home, Flower immediately made a beeline for her preppy younger sister, Xin Hua, who was lounging on the sofa and scrolling through the feed on her phone as usual. However, after Flower explained her situation, the cobalt-haired teen quickly placed her phone aside and partook in the giddy excitement that her older sister was feeling. One trip to Sachiko’s yukata gallery and another to Mizki’s hair accessory treasury was enough for the aspiring fashionista to dress her sister up for her special summer date.

“Flower? Flower!” The sight of his bandaged hand waving front of her was enough to snap the short-haired teen back to reality, her violet eyes blinking a few times to readjust her field of vision. “Hey, are you okay?” Fukase asked her, a worried frown inscribed on his lips as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“O-oh, sorry, I… I’m okay,” She stuttered in embarrassment, slightly ashamed that she spaced out in the middle of nowhere. Her instinctive reaction of looking down whenever she got awkward got her looking at the yukata that Xin Hua had picked for her. It was of a deep violet shade, accompanied by prints of lavender and white coloured cherry-blossoms and outlines of round lanterns scattered across her sleeves and skirt. She had a grape-purple obi tied around her waist to keep her outfit together and Ms Sachiko even gave her complimentary wooden sandals and a hickory-coloured basket for her necessities to complete the ensemble. ‘Cherish your youth’, she had said with a warm smile after Flower had told her the reason for her purchase.

Meanwhile, Fukase chuckled at her quiet response and quietly slid his right hand under her chin, gently lifting her gaze to look at him. There wasn’t an obvious height difference between them (except for a few centimeters that Flower had but Fukase didn’t) but even then, Flower felt rather small under the gaze of his right eye, his left one being concealed under his white eye patch. Having him stand close to her also allowed her to take in his outfit for the night; a muted red yukata with black lines resembling tree branches drawn on its cloth all held together by a thin bright red obi.

“You sure?” He smirked at her like a cheeky devil would, the jokester side of him showing. “You’re blushing, you know,”

His words rooted her to the spot. “No, I am not!”

“Sharp response. I thought you were a kuudere, not a tsundere,”

“I-Does that really matter right now?!”

Her flustered response was met with a fit of laughter from Fukase, his red curls dancing in the air as he shook his head jokingly. “I kid! I kid!” He sang out as he held his hands up as if surrendering. “Please spare me from your silent treatment, Hana-chan~”

She puffed her cheeks. “You’re only lucky that I decided to dress up for tonight and I don’t want to ruin our date,”

“Oh right, I was gonna say,” His expression lit up as he continued. “You look… as pretty as a flower tonight,”

He half-heartedly expected a startled response and was unsurprised when she only snarkily replied: “A pun-related flirt isn’t going to get to me, Fukase,” Of course she’d say something like that.

“Darnnit, that didn’t work as well as I had hoped,” He pretended to be upset for a moment before raising his right hand towards her, cueing the snow-haired girl to blink at him a few times.

“Well anyway,” He began, tilting his head at her cutely. “Now that we’ve been chatting here for a while, I believe it’s about time for us to head down there, yeah?”

She found herself beaming as she accepted his hand. “Yes, let’s,”

~*~*~*~*~

“Come and catch your own kingyo! Only 200 yen to bring one home!”

“Fresh shaved ice and candied apples for sale! Come and get them before they’re gone!”

As their evening continued, the crowd really did grow thinner as most of the younger children were brought home by their parents and some of the teenagers were heading home as well. Since the both of them were night owls on a daily basis, the moon climbing up the sky did not bother them. Fukase’s enthusiasm for them to visit every stall did not falter even as the night went on. Beside him, Flower held tightly to his right hand, a small smile on her face as she witnessed him bring her all around the carnival. She could tell that he was excited for it.

“Are you hungry? We should get some mochi here,”

“I think those pinwheel headbands would look cute on you,”

“Hey, this fruit tea tastes great! Try some!”

Perhaps it was a little selfish for her to say it, but Flower really liked the attention that he was giving her tonight. It wasn’t odd for Fukase to treat her so kindly (he was literally known for being the kindest person for a lot of people) but hearing him talk to her alone made her feel warm and fuzzy inside, a feeling that only he could generate. However, tonight it felt like Fukase’s gentlemanly nature was much more prominent than usual… Was it because they were wearing such fancy clothes?

Whatever the reason was, she didn’t really care about it. After all, who would turn down a kind, pampering boyfriend like him? Even though Flower was slow to understand social norms as a wallflower, she knew enough to recognise that Fukase was kind of spoiling her (not that she was complaining, mind you).

Her train of thought was interrupted when something at a shelf on her left managed to catch her attention, silently motioning her to get closer to the stall with multi-coloured stacks of cans lined up in pyramidal formation behind its counter. She couldn’t take her eyes off one of the prizes at the game stall; a small lavender rabbit with a translucent maroon ribbon wrapped around its neck and a top hat sewn onto its head. Its subtle resemblance to Fukase’s normal outfit was probably what caught her eye.

“Whatcha looking at?” The very person she was thinking about turned his head in the same direction as she was facing, his eyes scanning the game stall for whatever had caught her attention. “Do you see that little rabbit on the shelf?” Flower whispered to him while leaning close to his ear. “It’s kinda cute. I just thought that it looked like you in your coat, doesn’t it?”

The redhead has his eyes trained on the stuffed toy that had caught his girlfriend’s attention. It didn’t take him long to mutter a ‘let’s head over there’ as he brought them both over to the stall, his hand never letting go of her despite her initial surprise. After he forked out some coins for the stall owner, a basket with brightly coloured plastic balls was placed in front of him, the challenge of knocking over all the cans in three hits now laying before him.

“Fukase, you don’t have to do this for me,” The white-haired girl standing behind him said timidly, a bit uneasy that he decided to play this game just for her.

The redhead smiled at her. “But I want to,” He simply said, picking up the first ball from the basket. “Besides, you like that rabbit doll, right?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“Then just sit tight and watch me win it for you!” He gleefully replied as he aimed for the base of one of the can pyramids before hurling his ball at them, nailing a hit on the cans at the bottom for his first throw. The coloured cans tumbled onto the table with loud clatters and clangs as the pyramid fell, knocking down all the obstacles quickly. He grinned at his victory.

“Wow, you got them all in one shot!” The stall owner commended, lightly clapping her hands to his success. “Congratulations! You’re welcomed to choose any prize you want for winning,”

“Any prize?” Fukase glanced over to her as the lady nodded, her satin pink hair bouncing up and down. He soon turned his eyes back to the little rabbit that Flower had been eyeing this whole time, the smile on his face widening. “Can I have the little rabbit over there? The one of that shelf, please,”

“Sure thing!” She replied as she gently lifted the rabbit doll off the shelf and handed it over to him. “Thank you for playing!” The store owner sang out as Fukase received the doll from her, turning back to his girlfriend. Holding out the lavender rabbit doll in his two hands, he smiled warmly at her. “Ta-da! Here you go, Flower,”

Her face shone as she held the doll in her hands, now able to marvel its cuteness up close. It really did look similar to Fukase in his fancy outfit. “Thank you,” She unknowingly broke into a wide smile as she petted the rabbit’s head the same way she did to Point, Fukase’s pet doll. “It’s really cute…” She giggled.

He grinned at her, a warm feeling washing over him at the sight of Flower’s smile. It never failed to make him smile back at her, or to make his cheeks feel a little warmer than usual. Deep down, he wished she did that all the time, but he also understood her take on it; it was better to let her slowly get into the habit of smiling instead of forcing it on her.

Instead, he raised his hand towards her again, hoping to continue their stroll through the carnival until he noticed which one he was holding up to her. In a hasty maneuver, Fukase swiftly relocated himself to be standing on her right side as he offered his hand to her again, disregarding the confused expression on her face. “Shall we go back to the path, milady?”

She giggled again at his formal demeanor. “You don’t have to be so formal,” She quickly packed her new rabbit doll into her basket as she accepted his hand again. Although she was already well aware of his odd behaviour from before, Flower knew better to not bring it up and make him embarrassed.

Unfortunately, the more she thought about it, the more it started to bug her. Especially when she started to realise how often such situations would occur multiple times that night. Upon closer inspection, there was one thing that they all had in common; the fact that Fukase had never let her hold his left hand.

As much as she didn’t want to sound like some prissy girl complaining on their date, the urge to ask him about it was stronger than those worries. “Hey, Fukase?” The white-haired teen began, tugging a little on their interlocked hands to get his attention. “Can I… ask you something?”

He eagerly turned to her. “What is it?”

“Can I hold your left hand?”

The question alone was enough to wash his bright smile away, replacing it with an astonished frown on his face and a startled expression in his eye. His footsteps immediately stopped in the middle of the pathway as his grip on her hand tightened a little. For a while, Flower started to regret asking that question; she would’ve not done so if it meant that she was going to be subjected to him staring at her, downright baffled at her words. Now, she felt as if she was riveted to the ground by his gaze, feeling her heart climbing up her throat as she gulped loudly.

Fortunately for her, he broke their staring contest by turning his head away from her for a bit, his left hand covered from top to bottom in bandages rising up to cover his face. In a low, apologetic tone, he muttered: “Uh, sorry about that,”

She was speechless. “Eh?”

“I know you don’t like it when people stare at you, so… sorry that I was doing that just now.” He hastily apologised before continuing. “A-anyway, why do you want to h-hold my left hand? I mean-! Is there a reason? N-not that you have to tell me, wait I mean-!”

As the redhead stumbled over his words, the gears in Flower’s head started turning. A line of stuttering dialogue from Fukase convinced her that her asking him about it was the right thing to do; in a normal everyday conversation, he would never ever trip over his own words. As far as she could remember, his confidence in speaking has never failed him, only faltering a little whenever Flower managed to sneak a sweet, unintentionally affectionate line of dialogue to him. So to hear him uncharacteristically stutter so much while talking to her normally… Flower quickly realised that something was up.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me, Fukase,” She tried to ameliorate the situation, hoping that he wasn’t too embarrassed. “I’m really sorry that I asked it so randomly-”

“It’s not that, it’s just…” He trailed off as his eyebrows furrowed, his gaze shifted to the sight of his left, bandaged, roughly-surfaced hand. A sigh left his lips; he was gonna have to tell her something eventually, so why wait?

“The truth is,” He started, hoping that he didn’t sound too nervous. “No one… has ever held my left hand before…”

“Why?” She blurted out as her curiosity overrode her politeness.

“I never offered it to them,” He explained slowly, gaining a bit more confidence as he confessed to her. “I mean, you know how my hand looks; it’s a mess. And even with these bandages, it’s still really… you know, coarse and rough,”

Flower found herself frowning at the mention of what his left hand really looked like. It called back a past memory of their time together, when Fukase had told her the events that caused him to look as he is now. That day, he even slowly, very gingerly, took off his bandages and eye patch to show her the scars he had hidden from everyone for so long, the damaged side of him that he refused to show in public in the fear that he would be met with disgust and disdain.

But on the contrary to his fear of Flower leaving him, Fukase was embraced by her love and adoration for him, the emotions in her that he managed to call out now being gifted to him instead as some form of mutual bond. In the same way that he helped her break down her emotional barriers, she had helped him overcome his trauma-induced obstacles. It was a relationship between them that nothing in the world could break.

And tonight was just another testament to it, Fukase realised as Flower quickly shook off his hold on her own hand, instead reaching for his left, roughly-surfaced one covered in white straps of cloth. Her fingers brushed across his as she matched them to line up with hers, a small yet ever-so-kind smile on her face encased in her lips. Fukase unknowingly gulped at the sight of his girlfriend looking at him with so much kindness and care, her beauty brought out even more tonight with her neatly combed tomboyish hair and lilac-coloured butterfly pin.

“Fukase,” She broke the silence between them as she whispered softly. “Does it feel any different when I hold your hand like this?”

He averted his eyes at her question. “Well, for me, it feels the same but for you-”

“It’s the same for me too, you know,” She interrupted him gently, shifting her right hand to the side a little as she interlocked their hands together. “I know you’re always worried about how your scars might change how I see you, but… You know that’s never gonna happen, right?”

As soon as she spotted the skepticism in his eyes, she took it as a sign to continue. “Whichever hand I’m holding doesn’t matter to me so long as it’s yours, Fukase. You don’t have to be worried about how you look when you’re with me; I don’t mind any of it at all,”

“ … Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Besides,” She chuckled as she recalled another memory. “Didn’t I already tell you before that I liked your scars?”

“W-well yeah, but…” After baring out the truth to her, the red-haired boy felt unnaturally vulnerable, the somewhat playful tone in her voice making him blush. He still wasn’t used to her telling him that she liked the permanent markings on his skin. For a long time, he hated them and wished that they would just disappear, especially since they were a reminder of that dark side of him. And yet to listen to her words when she said that she liked them… it felt like letting go of a breath of air that he’d be holding for a long time. ‘Because they’re a part of you too’, Flower had told him back then. ‘That’s why I like them’

Meanwhile, the girl standing before him gently pulled their interlocked hands back down, her left hand holding tightly to her basket as she turned back to the path. “I really don’t mind holding your left hand, Fukase,” She reassured him again with a soft smile. “So… let’s keep this date going, okay?”

Flower hadn’t even taken one step forward before she was tugged back towards the red-haired boy, his uncalloused hand cupping her face as he pulled her closer to him. Just like the beginning of their date when he had commented on her blushing cheeks, the snow-haired teen found herself hypnotized by his armour-piercing gaze, his right red eye staring intently at her for a short while only to soften as he leaned his face close to her, closing his eyes and landing his lips onto hers. As her cheeks heated up like red-hot iron, she knew in absolute certainty that she was blushing now.

It seemed as if time stood still as Fukase kissed her, the action and noises in their surroundings seeming to pause as her eyelids slid shut in conjunction to his daring public display of affection, his head tilting slightly to deepen their kiss as Flower mimicked his actions. It felt like hours had slipped by them as they parted from their kiss, the commotion from the carnival returning to their field of vision and awareness.

Fukase’s face was almost as red as his hair as he chuckled lightly, his iconic bright smile back on his face. “Hana-chan, thank you,” His voice was teeming with gratitude as he thanked her. “You always seem to know exactly what to say,”

Flower was blushing equally as much, her wallflower shyness emerging from her. “I’m just being honest,” She humbly replied.

“How in the world did I get a girlfriend as amazing as you?”

“I could say the same for you, you know,”

“Me? What did I do?”

“I mean, how in the world did I get a boyfriend as sweet and funny as you?”

“Hey! Don’t copy my words!”

“But it’s true!”

The both of them laughed at each other’s antics, their hands interlocked with one another as they continued to stroll down the dirt-trodden path.

~*~*~*~*~

A/N: GAAAAAHHHH these two make me soft~ ;-;

#fukase #fukaflower #vocaloid fukase #vflower #v4flower #vocaloid #flokase #fukasexflower #flowerxfukase #ship #vocaloid ship #carnival #festival #date #yukata

13 notes · View notes

themockingcrows · 4 years ago

Text

Home Run Movie Night

Davepetasprite/John This is NOT SFW! AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25475938 cw: nooks and bulges, nook eating, nook fingering, anal sex, interspecies sex, First Time, bodily fluids, sloppy makeouts

After a delightful first date (Second Base Desserts), the plan had been made for a movie night. Though now that the movie is playing and the scene is set, it's not nearly as important as the attractive sprite that's already got a plan of their own in mind!

Popcorn? Check.

Soda? Check.

Movies? Double check, he had them in spades thanks to his previous years of collecting only the finest in cinematic entertainment.

Comfy spot? He’d made a blanket fort earlier, encasing the television area in sheets and blankets and pillows aplenty so it was soft and cozy to cuddle up in. And probably to make out in, if he was being honest and hopeful.

Everything else…? A bit of a tossup. While John didn’t want to be presumptuous, his time in the scouts as a young child and being his father’s son had entangled within him a strong sense of preparedness. After the intensity of his date with Davepeta before, the grinding, the making out, he had no idea when the time would be right to go further beyond that. Supposedly when the time was right he’d know, but what about being prepared? He had some lube, and some condoms but there was a problem.

What kind of genitals did Davepeta even have…? Did they need something special for them? What anatomy was going to be worked with? Did they both need condoms? Were sprites able to get pregnant or anything? To add to the mystery, there was bird DNA and troll DNA at work as well, so who the fuck even knew what all there was in play. Maybe, just like the rest of the sprite, it’d be something one of a kind and special only to them. Which was all well and dandy but it really fed into his lingering anxiety about what to anticipate. It was like a really sexy Christmas present lurking under his tree, waiting for the eventual day that he might get to peek inside of it and see what had been teasing him for so long.

Would it be like his daydreams of the last few weeks since their date? Though even that data was limited. He registered warm and soft and wet but as soon as he tried to see what he was dealing with down there his mind blanked out and focused on remembering their face instead. Which was nice, considering it had been what had driven him crazy to begin with, but not the nicest when he was trying to think of different things while getting himself off. Fap fodder was plenty with his imagination normally when he needed it, but the specifics of the sprite eluded him as much as a fae on a summer’s night.

John paced his living room double checking everything for the fourth time before the doorbell rang, making him jump out of his skin and scramble around the corner at breakneck speed. He froze in front of the door, collected himself, smoothed his hair back, checked his breath and finally opened up with a grin.

Perfect.

They were absolutely perfect, even dressed down casual, and John couldn’t wrap his fucking head around how it was even possible. Davepeta was wearing some basketball shorts that hung loose around their muscular thighs, flip flops, and a baggy tie dye t-shirt that complemented their opalescent skin. They also, John realized after the initial hug of greeting, weren’t wearing a bra this time. Absolute comfort was in mind here obviously, yet John couldn’t forget the feeling of their breast from their date or the way their lips tasted.

Today they tasted like iced mocha and caramel sauce when they kissed him, taking their time in the greeting before pulling back with a curled grin.

“Thanks for having me ofur today, John. I’m sure we’ll have an ameowzing time!” they said excitedly, wings ruffling in excitement before folding against their back.

“If I’ve got anything to say about it, it’ll be ama- uh. Ameowzing,” John said, gesturing grandly for his datemate to enter. Datemate? Were they dating now? He’d never officially asked, and Davepeta never mentioned it, but this was two dates in now so… probably? Maybe?

Fuck, why did he overthing so many things at the worst possible time.

“Ohhhh shit look at this, you really purrpared didn’t you!” Davepeta said, kicking off their sandals before racing to the pillow fort, leaning down to peer inside. “Wow, there’s even light inside…”

“Yeah, I don’t want to toot my own horn here but I’m a pretty much a pillow fort master,” John said, thumbs hooking into the front of his own t-shirt as if he were holding suspenders. He caught side of Davepeta’s tail disappearing into the canopied space before dropping the act with a laugh and following them inside. Davepeta had already secured a comfortable spot near the snacks, curling up on their side in view of the television while leaving plenty of space for John to nestle good and close. Presumably, based on the fact one hand was patting the pillowy ground invitingly, he was indeed meant to be that close.

The first movie was selected by John, Davepeta too busy giggling at all the choices and saying they sounded terrible to be of much assistance, but they didn’t wind up watching much of it. Ten minutes in and there was a hand on John’s thigh, kneading at the flesh rhythmically and distracting him. Fifteen in and Davepeta had crawled onto part of his lap, resting their head on his thigh. Twenty, and Davepeta was settled on their back on John’s lap like a cat who’d successfully snuck onto a comfy spot, and at some point after that they’d started to kiss and he lost all track of time. Who needed time when someone this attractive wanted to lock lips with you? They could always watch the movie over again, but for now it made for a nice background noise in the cozy nest he’d made.

“Did you miss me?” they breathed against his mouth.

“Of course I did, it’s just not the same without you around,” John admitted, stroking at their bright hair, the strands aglow with neon hues.

“Did you think about what we did before?” they teased, that predatory grin sliding so easily across their face that John had to flush and bite his lip. Of course he’d thought about it. He’d thought about it daily. Nightly. It was impossible to not hyper-focus on, being a first of its kind for him.

“Yeah. A lot,” John said, trailing a finger from their hair to their delicately pointed ear, stroking along the point and the length of it till he was stroking the side of their face instead.

“You know I’m not wearing a bra,” they said matter of factly, almost out of the blue were it not for the distinct link to their previous encounter. “But do you want to know a secret?”

“Sure,” John said, throat feeling a bit tight. Okay, they were being pretty bold already, maybe more touching was in his future.

Davepeta perched on their elbows and curled their long body upwards towards John’s ear, whispering a warm breath into it.

“The panties match.”

John’s throat ran dry. He swallowed once, twice, three times before he had enough saliva to do it properly, and then pulled back to look down at Davepeta on his lap. They were grinning and waggling their eyebrows playfully before breaking out into a laugh like bells, pushing up from their comfy spot on his lap to rise up onto their knees. Their palms soon rested on John’s knees, keeping him from adjusting his position as they leaned up to kiss him gently once more.

“Do you want to see…?”

“I.”

“You?”

“I uh. Y-. ...Yeah,” he finally got out, kicking himself mentally over and over for stammering. Stupid! Stupiiiiiiiid! You’re supposed to be suave and in control of the situation, or at least participating better! Where did all the preparedness go?

“Let’s have some snacks and watch some of the movie, and we can play it like a game,” they suggested. “Every so often, I’ll ditch a piece of clothing, and you have to do the same. Eventually the whole kittenkaboodle’ll be gone.”

“Wait, what?”

Davepeta grinned that same calculating grin again, fangs glinting. “John, my end goal is to both be naked and the only reason I’m not taking it all off in one go is to see mew squirm a bit.”

“Th-! That seems like cheating!” John said, mind racing. They weren’t wearing much to begin with. Naked. Both naked. Oh, God, was this really happening?

“Seems pretty fair to the person only wearing two pieces of clothes. Here, I’ll start,” Davepeta said before reaching back behind themselves to tug at their shirt. John could hear the gradual give of velcro before the shirt was loosening and coming off. They held the loose fabric in front of their chest for a moment, eyeing John closely before letting it drop.

Though John had only felt them previously, seeing was an entirely different prospect, and his hands dropped immediately to his lap to quell the response it invoked. Davepeta’s breasts were lovely, really, better than pictures of normal humans John had sneaked peeks of online. Part of it was because of the pearly sheen their skin had, highlights brighter and shadows softer, nipples perky in the cool air of the living room. Or were they like that because of what they were doing together...? The thought that, somehow, John was responsible for that perkiness was appealing.

“Well?” Davepeta said, setting their shirt aside.

“Well what,” John asked. Fuck, was he supposed to do something? His hands lifted and hovered as if he were going to grasp both breasts at once, but went no further. Something wasn’t connecting properly in his brain and he knew it, think think think Egbert come on!

“Your shirt…?” Davepeta said. “Mew need to ditch yours too meow. Follow the leader, remember?”

John’s face flared red before he scrambled to tuck his head down into his shirt like a turtle, hands rushing to the bottom to rip it up over his face and toss the bundled fabric aside. There wasn’t nearly as much of interest on John as Davepeta, thin chest flat, edges of his ribs visible. John had always hoped that someday he’d be as strong as his father, as wide, yet so far he hadn’t filled out like that. Muscle mass just wasn’t in the cards yet.

Davepeta seemed comfortable being shirtless, which made sense considering half of their makeup was someone who’d been able to be shirtless any time he wanted in his life. ...Was Nepeta able to do the same? John didn’t understand a lot of things about trolls, maybe troll girls were able to go shirtless all the time too on Alternia. Was that a weird thing to ask? It was probably a weird thing to ask. And probably weirder that he couldn’t help but keep gawking over now and then at what rested above the popcorn. It was boobs John, grow up. It’s not like he’d never seen boobs before, he’d even felt them before!

…

Boobs.

“Can we start the movie over?” Davepeta asked, reclining leisurely onto the blankets and cushions beside John after grabbing the popcorn bowl. They took a handful and fed a kernel at a time into their mouth, crunching idly. “I wasn’t paying attention before. Whoops.”

“Uhm. Yeah,” John said, taking a few seconds too long to go and fetch the remote control, clicking back through the scenes to the beginning. What movie even was this? He had no interest in the film anymore, not so long as the sprite lay beside him half naked and tempting.

What would happen if he just moved the popcorn bucket and rolled over on top of them for a kiss? Would they be happy? Annoyed? Would he ruin the mood, or make it even better? Augh, Davepeta was being a tease and this was so confusing to decipher! It didn’t help that every time he peeked over seemed to be the time Davepeta was casually eating popcorn and looking right back at him with a grin. They knew the power they held, and they were using every inch of it for evil it seemed.

John reached for some popcorn, though he wasn’t in the mood for snacks anymore. All he wanted to do was kiss Davepeta again, and lose himself like he’d started to earlier. Or did he? After all, the sprite was only wearing shorts now. There was apparently nothing on underneath them. When those came off, Davepeta would be naked, and he’d be stuck in his underwear a bit longer unless he could man up enough to yank them down too. Or had Davepeta planned that as well?

With thoughts running through his head, John barely even noticed at first when Davepeta’s hand crept back to his thigh and began to knead as the movie played. They spread their fingers out, feeling along the fabric of his pants now and then before curling up to squeeze repeatedly, working from his outer thigh to his inner thigh and-

That was a hand on his dick. Oh, God, that was a hand on his dick and one glance down at Davepeta proved that it was entirely intentional and holy shit it felt nice. John bit his lip to keep quiet, not wanting to groan immediately, and closed his eyes instead. Don’t pop a boner. Don’t get a boner immediately. Come on, John, don’t get a boner immediately. Don’t. Do not. Resist. RESIST.

He failed, and Davepeta’s grip grew gentler, a fond stroking through the fabric of his pants instead of the heavy kneading of before.

Mercy?

No. Not from the look on their face, it wasn’t. Davepeta was glancing at him from beneath hooded eyes, calculating, gauging his reactions to different pressure up till he started to softly pant. Only then did they remove their hand and set aside the popcorn bowl.

Dry mouthed, John watched as Davepeta hooked their thumbs into the hem of their shorts and tugged downwards, exposing the flat, muscular plane of their stomach and abdomen, the crest of their hips, and…

What was that.

John squinted a bit, confused. At first glance, he thought he was dealing with a normal human vulva, albeit tinted shades of green and orange. Yet… the longer he looked at it, the more it appeared that something down there was moving.

“Like what you see?” Davepeta asked, striking a pose as they dangled their shorts off one foot showily, the angle of their leg and thigh drawing John’s line of sight before it reverted back to the focus point of his interest. Yes, something was definitely moving down there, gently peeking out of their body as if it had a mind of its own before withdrawing once more.

“I uhm. Well. Yes, just. ...Uh,” John stammered, not sure what to say. Davepeta was naked, of course he liked what he saw. He just. Didn’t know exactly what he was liking in that moment.

Grinning broader, Davepeta suddenly rolled and settled half atop John’s torso, hands fussing at the front of his pants. “Your turn!”

Wait, he was still hard. Oh, God, wait, he was still hard!

A tussle, half wrestling half resisting later, and John was left in his underwear with his pants around his knees. Davepeta was settled astride his thighs proudly, tail whipping left and right over his shins, the top of their head propping up one of the droopier blankets of the fort. This wasn’t ideal. Or maybe it was, considering John had breasts in his face and a clearer view of what he’d been gawking at before.

A tentabulge, he thought it was called. It sounded familiar at least. A slim tendril was shyly peeking out and feeling around Davepeta’s skin before sliding back into its bodily sheathe the longer John looked. A part of him had expected a humanoid dick considering Dave was involved, and he’d steeled himself for that, but this was definitely new. Prehensile and new. Intriguing. Shyly he reached a finger forward and watched as the reaching tendril wrapped around it for a moment before retracting again. He felt Davepeta shiver on his lap and bit his lip anxiously.

Holy shit, this was really happening wasn’t it. His first time and it was going to be with some fairly alien equipment. A glance up towards Davepeta’s face made any apprehension disappear though. They were smiling at him lovingly, apparently glad that he approved of what he saw. Maybe even relieved. Had anyone else done anything with the sprite…? Was this a bit of a first for both of them?

Without thinking, John reached up and hooked his arms around Davepeta’s narrow hips, resting his hands square on their ass for stability and for the chance to give a knead of his own. They hummed throatily and shuffled their wings before leaning forward, resting their arms around his neck.

“Do mew have any idea how long I’ve wanted you to see me like this…?” they asked. “The only reason I didn’t jump you in the forest was because it felt better to wait. And look now! We’ve got a fort all our own!”

John’s cuddle cave was apparently going to be used for much lewder purposes tonight, and all he could think in the moment was to praise himself for the lights and the television placement that kept the pale, pearly flesh in front of him in perfect lighting to savor and enjoy. They were warm beneath his hands and against his chest, and when they kissed him again it was sweet and tender.

Shit, they’d really wanted this hadn’t they. Well. At least the feeling was mutual. Davepeta sank down so they were sitting on John’s thigh and he blinked in confusion when he felt something wet against his skin. Apparently the bulge wasn’t the only thing Davepeta was in possession of, though it took John an embarrassingly long time to try to remember the name he’d heard before for it. If this was a part of troll anatomy and not something entirely different, it was a nook, right? Was that the same as a vagina? Or entirely different? It was at an angle that John couldn’t exactly see it, only feel it against his thigh, which wasn’t enough.

Davepeta seemed to read his mind, and kissed against his nape for a moment.

“Would mew like to see what you’re dealing with…?”

John swallowed briefly before giving an excited nod. Yes, he wanted to get a clear look. And maybe a touch. And maybe more. He’d seen porn before, yeah, and he had some ideas of what he wanted to do already on his own, but it all would depend on what there physically was on the field. What would feel good and what wouldn’t to them?

If he could make Davepeta feel good, he’d call it a successful night.

Scooting backwards and freeing John’s legs, Davepeta glanced to a free space on the pillow fort’s floor and took it, reclining carefully to avoid damaging their wings. They propped up on their elbows to watch John’s face before parting their legs and giving him a full view of their genitals, the bulge unfurling further than before in excitement. It coiled against itself, a shimmering green with orange highlights here and there along its length, and spread some kind of a liquid that John could only assume was similar to lubrication or pre-come. It had to be something after all, right? The nook rested below it, a much more benign and inactive opening that seemed to have traces of the same fluid from the bulge that restlessly coiled and reached above it. For a brief moment it looked as if the bulge was going to probe that nook on its own, and it was enough to snap John out of his stupor.

This was real.

Davepeta was naked in front of him, showing their most intimate parts, and he’d not even commented. Jesus, where were his manners. Fascination aside, he was grateful to be gifted like this in the first place. John cleared his throat and shucked his pants the rest of the way before crawling closer to Davepeta’s legs, tracing a hand over their shin and calf a few times.

“You’re gorgeous.”

That seemed to be the right thing to say, judging from the neon glow of a blush that dusted their pearly cheeks.

“Can I uhm,” he started, then took a breath and let it out. “...Can I touch you?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

With permission obtained and Davepeta already parting their legs a bit further to accommodate him, John sank down to his elbows and scooted closer. He pressed a kiss to their thigh a few times, spangling their skin with it, before approaching the focus of his interest. The bulge was even larger than before, more of its girth emerging even as John drew closer, till it finally stopped and stood proudly on display.

Davepeta was bigger than him, and while part of John was a little embarrassed about it, the realization was also… kind of hot? What would that feel like inside of him? Oh, fuck, was he honestly thinking about tackling that monster tonight? He reached a hand forward to gently grasp the bulge, taking in the slick texture of it, the tense coil that was all muscle grasping at him, feeling his fingers and palm. The sprite shivered again and curled their toes. ...Hmm, apparently he didn’t really need to do all that much to make it feel good.

Yet, not satisfied with that alone, John leaned forwards bravely to give the bulge a lick. Oral was standard as foreplay, right? Touching and tasting was what he’d seen in porn, the fact it felt like something was trying to taste him back was just a bonus apparently. Whatever fluid coated it had a neutral flavor, the scent being entirely Davepeta in origin. It was kind of addictive really. John held still as the tentabulge stretched and reached for his face, feeling around wetly before he tipped his head and opened his mouth in offer.

“A-ah!” Davepeta twitched harshly as John closed his lips, giving an experimental suck on the appendage. Eager, he tried to figure out how to allow more into his mouth, before having to yank back with a cough as the bulge headed straight for his throat.

“Fuck,” he hissed.

“Sorry,” the sprite mumbled, biting their lip. Shit. They looked almost shy like that, so different from their normal in-your-face attitude and existence. Loud and proud.

“No, no, it’s okay. Let me just…” he murmured, wrangling the excited bulge with one hand and giving an experimental squeeze before dipping his head down lower to explore the nook with his tongue. A lick to the outside, a few flat lathes of his tongue, and he was pressing harder to breach the opening.

Sweet. Sweet and moist and pliant, and oh God he could feel Davepeta’s thighs against his ears as their legs swung closer, squeezing at him encouragingly. He felt hands in his hair, combing gently, petting at him. He didn’t need to be told twice. Closing his eyes, John busied himself with Davepeta’s nook with his mouth and fingers of one hand while his other fist dealt with the muscular bulge, alternating between squeezing and just letting it explore and rub against his fingers.

“John,” they crooned, voice sweet and higher than usual, breathy. “John, John, John, John…!”

Apparently just feeling the situation out was the right thing to do. And honestly? He could get used to this. Every time he licked or probed with a finger, the sprite twittered and convulsed against him, squeezing his head with their thighs. Every time his fist moved they were trying to spread their knees apart, winding up in this rhythmic writhing motion that felt so natural John couldn’t imagine anything better.

Eventually though, he pulled back to look up at Davepeta, up past their flat stomach and beautiful breasts to their upturned, breathless face. He just sat there a moment, taking it all in. Savoring it. Stamping it on a part of his brain that would never forget how that pearly skin looked with multicolored lights from a long forgotten movie flashing over it, how his name had sounded coming from their passionately parted lips.

Beautiful. Handsome. Striking.

Perfect.

...Mostly perfect. The situation did have one down side John realized, shifting till he was on his knees. His underwear was in the way, and by now was uncomfortable. A damp spot at the front of the tent showed the amount of restraint he’d had till now, finally wiggling them down and off. The relief he felt was immediate, making him wonder why he hadn’t ditched them sooner to join the sprite in the nudist party.

Wait.

Shit.

Preparedness.

This was the moment, wasn’t it? This was that moment where things went even further that he’d been warned he’d recognize, and now that he recognized it John didn’t know what to do. He looked from Davepeta to the makeshift doorway of the fort to the table drawer where a few things lay inside in waiting. Did he need any of the things in there? That bulge wouldn’t fit a condom, and it seemed to be making its own lubrication, but-

“John,” Davepeta suddenly cooed, drawing his attention back. “You look like a deer in headlights.”

“Sorry, I’m just… I don’t know what I need next,” he admitted. “I mean. Condoms and stuff. I don’t know.”

“I can’t get pregnant,” Davepeta said. “At least I’m pretty sure I can’t. There’s too much blended up inside of me to manage that, especially when you add the game code in there. And trolls don’t work that way either. So I think we’re good on that front,” they promised, shifting their legs. John hadn’t noticed it till now, but the fluid the bulge was leaving behind had a faint green tint to it, as if a tiny drop of food dye had been placed in a bucket of liquid. “As for me needing something… all I need is mew.”

Davepeta was up and moving again then, coming closer to John and placing a hand on his cock, hand giving a few strokes till he shuddered and twitched, more than willing to lay back when pressed. Their bulge snaked forward and wrapped around his length once they removed their hand and shuffled even closer, squeezing it like a python before beginning to wiggle excitedly, tip probing here and there to try finding a waiting nook instead of testes and a taint.

“How uh-,” John started, only to be cut off when Davepeta kissed him, pressing their bodies against each other warmly and tangling their legs. There already seemed to be a plan in motion, he just needed to catch up with it and try to think of anything other than the bulge that was continuing to squeeze and writhe against his dick.

Oh.

Oh, okay, that was something he could think about.

Being braver, John deepened the kiss and rolled Davepeta to their back once more, pressing them down. He felt their knees against his hips tighten and hold on, bulge squeezing harder along his dick. This might work. The bulge was long enough that it could probably reach his ass while he was exploring their nook. They could both enjoy themselves at the same time, right? Or would it have been easier to have them be reverse cowgirl..?

No.

This felt good, this felt right. The squeeze of legs at his hips, the encouraging scratch of nails against his upper back and between his shoulder blades, the warm press of their tongue against his own and the way they were already trying to grind together without words felt natural. John’s hips hitched briefly when the bulge unfurled from his length and went lower, squeezing at his testicles before slipping between his legs and probing at his entrance.

“Take a breath,” Davepeta murmured softly when they felt John tense up, kissing him again till he relaxed.

It wasn’t as bad as he’d worried it might be, not by far. Thanks to the gradual increase in size, the slickness, and the gentleness of the appendage, what started as a few slick passes over his hole soon gave way to what felt like a small finger, expanding upwards into something more arousing as he adjusted bit by bit to the intrusion.

Davepeta moaned softly against his lips again, and John decided to make his move, hips rocking gently as he blindly probed a few times, missing the nook by a mile. The sprite reached down to grab hold of him and adjusted their bodies together, aligning him smoothly. The situation sank in again. A forgotten movie played in the background, some heroic line or another being said to an audience that had much better things on their mind. Popcorn rested in its bowl on a cushion nearby, clothes lay abandoned in piles, and two naked bodies rested in the center of a blanket fort that had been made with care.

John held his breath and sank forward… and groaned with bliss as warmth enveloped his cock, the bulge pressing deeper at the same time and stiffening reflexively. They were plenty wet, allowing him to slide in bit by shaking bit as they continued to lazily kiss, the entire affair leisurely and sweet. When they were flush together, John went still to let the bulge probe deeper, giving a jerk when he felt the firm brush against his prostate. Radio static ran down his spine in a harsh tingle.

“Keep doing that,” John gasped urgently against Davepeta’s lips as he shakily pulled his hips back and pressed forward again. A few steady times of this and John felt confident enough to start thrusting in a pattern, pace staggered occasionally as the bulge began to imitate him, withdrawing and thrusting deeper before squirming in place wetly.

For all the times that John had imagined his first time, it had been nothing like this. He’d always imagined he’d wind up with some girl or another, that his first time would be in a bed, that he might even be married first in some cases. The living room floor was never going to be the same for him again.

Davepeta had begun to make needy, throaty sounds whenever the kisses broke, gasps and moans, soft cries. Begging. Their voice split occasionally, sometimes a bit lower like Dave’s and sometimes higher like Nepeta’s must have sounded like, sometimes two at once before blending back together properly to Davepeta’s usual range.

John braced his legs and did the best he could do, hammering forwards and pulling back, trying to keep his movements smooth despite the assault against his prostate, fucking hard enough that Davepeta’s breasts bounced against his own chest hypnotically. They kissed messily, wetly. They bit. They scratched.

Salty. Sweet. Bitter.

“Horns,” they begged, rolling their head till John reached up and caught hold of them, bracing his weight on his elbows to accommodate the grab and hold maneuver, rubbing his thumbs along the ridges.

The sprite tensed and babbled a warning against John’s mouth, too many words and not enough breath, but John couldn’t stop even if he wanted to right then. He bowed his head and thrust harder and faster, giving a guess as to what was coming.

He wasn’t prepared.

No sooner had John come with a strangled cry, Davepeta did the same. ...And they came. ...And came. ...And came.

John felt fluid down his thighs and against his dick, felt Davepeta biting his lower lip and their knees squeezing his hips to trap him in place. No worries there, he was too sensitive to move anywhere fast, and even though the bulge had stilled it was still a firm presence in the back of his mind until it slowly withdrew. More wetness on his legs had John shakily propping up on his hands to glance down, taking in the green tinted mess on the pillows and sheets before he lay back down atop his datemate and sighed.

“Is that normal? Like. Does that happen every time?”

“It’s normal,” they promised, breathless, hands reaching up to toy with John’s messy hair, the tufts winding up even more wild thanks to their ministrations.

He felt… the same. Somehow, John had assumed that losing his virginity would make him feel different. Instead, he just felt sticky and tired and warm and so full of love for the person beneath him that it felt like his heart was going to explode. John rolled to his side and pulled Davepeta with him, pulling one of their long legs up over his hips to stroke at while they lazily kissed at his face and lips, basking in afterglow together.

The movie had reached its own climax apparently, but it was just noise. The popcorn lay abandoned, forgotten, the soda untouched. They had the entire night to themselves, with nobody to interrupt them.

“...Wanna do it again?” Davepeta purred, smirking wickedly despite the tiredness.

“Already?”

“Yeah. I’ve gotten a taste of mew and I’m purroud to say I want more,” said the sprite, licking their lips. “Though this time… I want to be on top.”

Dazed and still more than a little out of it, John could only nod.

Yeah. Sure.

Why not.

Sex was nice, he’d like more when his dick cooperated with him again.

“You’re not letting me get any sleep tonight, are you,” John said, realization sinking in.

“Nope.”

“I’m gonna be sore tomorrow, huh.”

“Purrobably,” they said, shifting their weight to get John onto his back, hands sliding along his chest and arms till they reached his wrists, pinning them down easily.

“...Will it be worth it?” he asked, lips parting as the sprite leaned down for a kiss, licking his bottom lip playfully.

“Absolutely.”

#davepetasprite #davepetasprite^2 #Davepeta #John Egbert #Homestuck #davepeta/john #not sfw #my fic

11 notes · View notes

moonlightxarcher · 4 years ago

Text

Selene’s Log, Day One

Update, 7:40 pm.

“The flight from Sinnoh to Alola took over twelve hours. It was supposed to take eight. Given the shaking in my legs, the unconscious balling of my hands into fists, and the sheer degree of negative thoughts entering my mind, it appears that I may have been more frustrated by the delays than it appears. Further research may be needed to examine the extent of this effect.” Nonetheless, she continues.

“It was past sunset when I touched down in Alola, leaving the bureau on Melemele Island in the middle of the night. Normally at these hours, I would want to take a long bath, enjoy a warm mug of tea and read a good book. However, this flight has left me... now what was that word. Ah yes, restless. Relaxation is not what I need this moment. As such, I have found it wise to begin my studies.”

There is a muffled sound of items being shuffled through a bag and the tell-tale zing of the edge of a spiral notebook rubbing against something hard. “Professor Kukui has recorded data on these nocturnal Ratatta that call this region their home, and I should like to observe them for myself.”

---

Update, 8:30 pm.

“Though it may seem odd, I feel a need to apologize to this audio log for not adding to it earlier. It would seem that Alola is as active at night as the city dwellers in Unova. It was not an Alolan Ratatta that I discovered on Route 1, but a Yungoose. These tan and yellow furred mongoose Pokemon are diurnal, so one of them appearing active at night was surely indicative of something gravely wrong. The look in its beady eyes- it seemed frantic, scared. Something capable of scaring even a Yungoos would be trouble. And that something I learned rather soon after was a flock of Spearow. While nature’s course would normally have led to the consumption of this Loitering Pokemon, I fear I could not let it perish, not when I had interfered already in the chase.”

“As luck would have it, my bow was within easy reach, Drawing its sleek wooden form from its case, I took aim at the lead Spearow, hoping to knock it out of the sky and scare off the others, but I need not have. A determined squawk cut the tension like an Air Slash. A small, screeching, ball of owl careened into the lead Spearow, kicking it in the beak.”

“Between that owl’s attack and the warning arrow I loosed, it sent the flock packing. Though the Yungoos appeared to be scared off as well.”

“Professor Kukui then found me, a bit embarrassed that the surprise had been ruined prematurely. See, he had been intending on giving this owl- Rowlet, to me as a gift for my help in the last paper we wrote together on Grass Type Moves.” A few taps and beeps are heard as an image flashes up on her recording device’s screen.

Name: Strix

Gender: Female

Nature: Bashful

Characteristic: Quick tempered

There is a muted sound of hooting in the background and a dull thud of something weighted landing on a shoulder. “I am sure Strix and I will work well together. She seems to line up well with my sense of justice, what with how she handled the Spearow.” The owl hoots in agreement.

“On Professor Kukui’s advice, we are heading up to Iki Town to talk to the Kahuna-” Her words are briefly interrupted by the dulled sound of an excitable male, happily calling out to the girl and her Rowlet. It would seem that he and the blue sea lion Pokemon walking with her know this owl. Their conversation is muted, but a few small remarks are caught, namely the mention of a battle and a rivalry between the Rowlet and Popplio.

“Leafage, Strix-” comes Selene’s voice clam and clear, just as the recording cuts out.

---

Update, 9:00 pm.

“Once again, it seems I must apologize. I must admit I accidentally bumped my thumb against the end recording button. I will take measures to ensure that this does not happen again, moving forward.” She pauses a moment to clear her throat. “Having listened back, it appears the recording cut off during my battle with the boy and his Popplio. Hau is...” There is almost a sense of hesitation in the feminine voice, as if trying to find the word that best applies. “...excitable. Perhaps too excitable. But he seems to be a good-hearted kid.” Says the girl only two years his senior. “His attacks left many openings and were poorly planned, but he did pack a punch. The kid has potential, I will give him that.”

“Professor Kukui ran into us not long after our battle ran to its natural completion. Entering the town together, it became quite clear to the locals that the Kahuna was not here. In the meantime, Professor Kukui suggested I head along Mahalo Trail to the shrine of Tapu Koko, to introduce myself to the Island Guardian. It is a custom I am unfortunately not familiar with, but one that he had educated me on prior to my arrival. It seemed more than reasonable, and the walk has given me time to recount the previous-”

The audio recording stutters, the device clacks as it hits the ground. Two different feminine voices mutter apologies to each other, their words unintelligible at first until the device is picked up and handed back to Selene. Both girls suggest that it was her own fault for not paying attention to where she was walking. The distant, tinkling cry of something small, a Pokemon perhaps, is also audible.

As is the increasingly loud screech of a flock of Spearow.

“Nebby! Please, can you-” That second feminine voice is heard once more before it is interrupted by the rough squawking, which is in turn interrupted by the hoot of a Rowlet smashing into the side of the smaller bird. Sounds of battle ring out, the device shaking as it is roughly stowed away in a pocket. The clattering sounds of sandal-covered feet clacking against wood can be heard, as well as the telltale flutter of leaves released like darts from the wings of her partner. From amidst the clashing sounds, a whining cry cuts in, and the deep thrum of a shockwave rocks recording, staggering multiple times.

A shattering snap, like that of splintering wood, and a sudden shriek of fear are all that can be heard... until the ethereal hum of another creature cuts in, sounds of sparking lightning quite nearly cutting off the recording then and there.

“T-Tapu.. Koko?” Selene’s voice comes in clearer now, though it seems that the damage the device had suffered was making it sound more mechanized. She is left panting, out of breath at the sight of such a lovely creature. If only her device could record video, then she’d really be able to keep a perfect record of sheer beauty of this legend in the flesh.

The device fizzles out.

---

Update, 10:45 pm.

“...And there we go, all fixed up. The device should be picking up my speech clearly enough now.” Selene’s voice seems tired and slightly crackly, but she isn’t wrong; it was far better than the mechanized voice from earlier. “Our encounter on the bridge left the recording device damaged. With the spare parts I had on hand I was able to repair most of the damage, but it may not hold for long. Further investigation into another option to record my experiments or find more parts may be needed.” She clears her throat a moment, seemingly distracted by the onset of sleep.

“Right. An explanation. According to Professor Kukui and Kahuna Hala, it was in fact Tapu Koko that has saved me and that strange space cloud Pokémon Nebby. But before I could say a word to it, much less thank it for saving my life, the legend was gone. But it did leave a gift of sorts. Kahuna Hala refered to it as a Sparkling Stone, and with its smooth black and intricate colored markings, I can see how it would sparkle when held at the right angle in the right light. I have given the stone to the Kahuna, as he has stated that he can make something for me out of it.”

“But I digress. The other girl accidentally recorded on this device is Lillie, she works for the Professor as his assistant. I have spoken with her once or twice, but she had not known that I was coming to Alola in person. It was...” She stops a moment, seemingly thinking better of it, but continues anyway. “She thought it was ‘cute’ that I was making an audio diary. I tried to explain to her that it was to record my research, but she did not listen...” A short pause, the ruffling off hair can be heard. “But I suppose she is not wrong. Alola is a region rich with culture, mythology, and variant Pokemon. Perhaps recording even my daily life could reveal something interesting with further study.”

Now, where was she? Lillie’s words had thrown her off a bit. “Ah, yes. The Spearow that attacked were without a doubt the same ones as before, so I tried to explain to Lillie the fact they all very nearly got hurt was my fault, but... Lillie refuses to let me take the blame. She really is a kind soul. I am not sure I would have been able to say the same. When we returned, Lillie explained what had happened to Kahuna Hala, and that was when I showed him the stone. I am not sure what he could be doing with it, but the thought intrigued me enough.”

“It was rather late by then, so the Kahuna sent us all off. Professor Kukui had prepared a bed for me in the basement of his lab, so I walked with him and Lillie. I had asked why they had not already converted the basement into a larger room for Lillie, but it seemed like the girl actually enjoyed her little loft area. It personally seemed too small in the video footage I had seen, but if it worked for her, I cannot argue.”

“Back at the lab, the Professor was happy to present me with another gift. He would have given it to me earlier, but it had not been ready yet: A Rotom Pokedex. I had read about them in a recent tech magazine, but I have to say they are far more impressive in person. The Professor went all-out in this, I will give him that. He had modified the Pokedex to include a proper camera for taking pictures and video, and the Rotom placed inside it to act as the AI was very well trained. I was able to speak with it briefly before it had to enter a shutdown mode to properly update and install all the programs.” She pauses, the light sound of fingers tapping as she mentally trails off a bit.

“I wonder... Maybe once he is up, I will ask the Rotom if he would help me with my logs...” A longer pause, for a moment it seems like the recording has died, but then she picks it up again. “Fatigue appears to be setting in. I ought to sleep, there is a long day of science and research planned for tomorrow.”

End Day One.

#[Selene's Log]#[Day One]

1 note · View note

bombtimer · 5 years ago

Text

Day 16: I miss...

.... of course, living in London.

Before I went there, I always thought that London and the UK will be dead-end drab. It will always rain everyday, hence a raincoat and an umbrella will always be a comparative advantage. During autumn, yes it was all gloomy and depressing. I remember Dzuhur and Ashar pray with only an hour difference, and Maghrib fell on 4pm.

I miss the daily life, strutting towards Tesco and Sainsbury’s for groceries only in shorts and sandals. I love bringing cloth bags with me everywhere and it’s easy to limit plastic consumption there. As I only prefer M&S chips and biscuits, occasional trip there is also soothing, somehow. Like I could just check the Angus beef and the salad, hope that chocolate almond milk has been restocked (I swear the product was only present for my first two months there), or see the clothings section of the shop. New Loon Moon is Chinatown is alright for monthly groceries. The Malay rendang instant seasoning is that good, along with frozen prawn dumplings and Indomie. I won’t forget The Chinatown Bakery with crispy red bean bun and red bean matcha bun with mochi inside. However, the thing I want to emphasise is Hilal Food Centre. This Turkish grocery shop provides jasmine rice and the vegetables in considerably cheap prices. I can also find halal beef dices for rendang, and of course, chicken gizzard! My monthly routine would be planning what to buy at Hilal, bringing two really big grocery bags, taking the bus and hoping the trip lasts for 30 minutes, buying things, and taking the bus home before it surpasses the 1-hour cap of free multiple journey. Though I’d be bringing a lot of stuff home, the bus stop is just in front of my flat’s main door.

I also miss exploring the area on my way to campus and vice versa. I kind of hate to join the Monday morning folks walking in a hurry and stopped by for the traffic. Yet there is a block next to another that if you still have 9 seconds to cross the first, you still have the time to cross the second. I also developed my love for walking everywhere, where the stupidest decision would be crossing the Hyde Park at 9 pm on Sunday from the exactly the Wellington Arch to the Marble Arch. There were no lamp post on the street and I was almost got hit by a biker. I was happy that I didn’t get stabbed or encountered a drunk folk. The record in one day would be 21 km walking (with hiking, all done in Dover, Kent) and I felt my ankles so weary on the following day. I also developed a skill to be the first person walking across the street right after the pedestrian light shows green, and maybe doing all that while looking the phone. Oh the vanity.

London also introduces me to the concept of loving the park. Indeed I have taken the tropical sun for granted during my lifetime. And I learnt how to appreciate it until I burnt my face. If you can’t think about me going more tanned, then you need to. LOL. I also long for outer boroughs, as one can like the typical suburban London and tries to find a place like home. Although I checked off Richmond Park and Highgate, I definitely missed Twickenham and Balham. Both are two films’ setting, yet Balham was supposed to be the place where Cecilia Tallis died during the Blitz in Atonement. Films like Notting Hill and Last Christmas are set in Central London, hence I know all the places. Yet now I still look for any film set in my third hometown.

One thing I keep on repeating is that I just can’t guess which person belongs to which nationality. Though I tried really hard to master Cockney accent (which fails horribly) and I realised that even British people in general do not care even at your grammatical errors. People can talk by their original accent, and it somehow relieves me that it doesn’t differ much back home. I’m also happy that I could befriend my genius friends, as I am always the stupidest one in any circle. I limit my friendship to British and other foreign students only to group work since personally, I still have difficulty of thinking in English. Without any necessary motivation to fight that, I just found several friends that were educated in big cities but came from Javanese upbringing hence I spent a lot misuh and sambat in my native tongue. I definitely need to work on this.

When I told Rosda that maybe I might continue my study again at UCL, she said that I have to learn something different and go more west. If lucky, maybe I will end up in New England. Cambridge, perhaps? Whatever the future may hold, surely I will always try to look my way home back to this city.

PS. Melelahkan ya bahkan di hari kelima belas. Baru saja sembuh lagi. Jadi kembali semangat nulis di Day ini karena fotonya mendukung ambiens yang saya ingin sertakan walau filmnya kadaluwarsa. Shoutout to Ishi for giving me this departure gift.

#30 days writing challenge

1 note · View note

thesandrose · 5 years ago

Photo

Origins: Part 3

OOC Note: This is an RP scene between @captaingreystone and @thesandrose

Neeia: Italics

Daron: Bold

Several months had passed since she'd made the decision to leave Dalaran behind and seek a life more adventurous. It hadn't been easy...she'd literally only had the clothes on her back when she stepped through the portal. Food was no problem, as was drink, but the sun was dangerous to anyone that lived in that desert. Money had to be made for all the necessities she would need to survive....shelter, clothing, transportation....if it was needed, money would buy it. She refused to sell her body, even though she'd been offered gold for such a pleasure. She'd refused those offers, of course, and that had earned her an earful about how she thought she was too good to be a whore. Those who chose to push the issue were found days later.....at least what was left of them. Their fortunes were always missing when they were found the bodies, and mysteriously, the young half-elf was able to purchase what she needed to travel and survive in the desert.

She moved from place to place, often dancing to make coin. Today's travels had brought her to Gadgetzan. The day found her in the main square, people milling about as they watched the half-elf girl dance. She moved gracefully, oblvious to the crowd as she twirled and frolicked, the wind tickling at her skirts as she seemed to dance across the sand as if she was moving across air. She called her staff to her hand and conjured fire at both ends, and spun it around her to the delights of the crowd. She was happy, happier than she had been her entire life.

Gadgetzan was a busy place this time of year, or perhaps its port was busy in general. The number of ships at anchor in the waters off the sands numbered in the dozens and the crews that manned them had all filtered in to the Goblin city in search of.. well, everything. What one could not find for coin in a region ruled by the Trade Princes likely wasn't worth purchasing anyways.

In the large, open air market that filled Gadgetzan's main square the many benches and tables that ringed the space were filled with all manner of inviduals. Daron Greystone, Captain of the Siren's Wail, was amongst them. Situated amongst a dozen members of the ships crew and the tables they sat at piled high with freshly cooked ocean catch. Daron had chosen crab and he picked at his meal idly as ocean blues stared over the busy marketplace. The man's gaze drawn of course to that spark came to life and dancing about the square.

The staff spun in the air and she caught it behind her back in a display of orange-red flames, before she let her magic take a hold of it and it spun around her as she began to writhe within the spinning staff. She flicked her hands up and flames erupted from her hands and her robes burst into flame, transforming her into a woman on fire. The crowd screamed, afraid that the woman had miscalculated. However, she remained quite safe and did a seductive belly dance while the fires flicked up and down her form. She twirled and threw her hands up, the flames sparking upwards into the air where they exploded into a nimbus of color and flame, little golden flickers falling like snow upon the crowd. She spun about and posed on the tips of her sandaled feet, her hands tossed upwards to allow flames to color the night sky. The bystanders cheered and whooped, and a shower of coins fell into the basket at her sandaled feet.

The half-elf was breathing hard, and looked like she was at the edge of ecstasy. Simple joys such as dancing just made her feel so happy, and after having a hard life in her younger years, she took her pleasures when she could. The coin also helped maintain her never-do-well lifestyle. She lowered herself to the balls of her feet and curtsied to raucous applause. Some came to her to compliment her for beauty, others for her skills....and there were more than one or two that offered her a warm place in their beds. She accepted the compliments, and declined the offers. She gathered up her basket and moved towards the merchant that was selling the crabs and smiled at him. "Yes, I would like a few please." She fished out some silver from the basket to pay the man.

To say that she had stolen the attention of one of Kalimdor's busiest marketplaces would have been an understatement. The whole of city might as well have stopped to stare and revel in the perforance the fire dancer offered. And, from those crowded around their tables raucous cheers and hollaring.. Even Daron played part in it, offering appreciation by slamming his empty mug atop the table as the crowd erupted in applause at the end of the woman's performance. Of the multitude of comments that were fired off towards the dancer from their tables, Daron found himself nodding agreement with most of them.. Performers such as she were always a fine thing for a man to get his hands on. Besides, goblin ports weren't known for their decency.

When it was done though, and the market returned to its usual normalcy, Daron smirked as his gaze followed the woman's path through the tables to where the one of the market cooks sold his catch. "Add hers to our tab, Raulins." The large man's voice carried over the din of such a busy place, and his chin dipped with the nod he gave towards the fisherman. Was he tipping his hat towards the woman, or merely lifting the weathered tricorne from his head as he turned in on his table and back to that plate of food he picked at.

The half-elf woman turned her gaze towards the large human, a slight smile on her lips as she bowed her head in thanks. She waited for the crabs to be placed on a platter and she flicked her hand, allowing her magic to keep it afloat. She made her way towards his table and looked at the empty space in front of him. "Would you mind terribly if I joined you," she asked, her voice silky. She settled a the table opposite him, ready to get up quickly if he protested. She folded one leg over the other and broke open one of the crabs to get at the succulent meat within.

"Did you enjoy the dance," she asked, her eyes flickering with mischief as she regarded the taller human. "Each performance is different. No dance is ever the same." She grinned slightly. "It would be rather boring if it became a routine."

A chuckle rumbled forth from Daron's lips like thunder as he shook his head and cast those ocean blues upon the dancer as she made her way over to his table. "I? Not in the slightest, friend. Though I can think of a few dozen other men that might mind terribly so." The edges of his mouth pulled in a smirk as he set that mug of cheap ale down atop the table and clasped his hands together, resting his elbows on either side of his plate.

"The heat in this endless wasteland is nearly unbearable.. If performances such as yours were commonplace though, every man with the freedom to travel the world would migrate here to bear witness to such a wonder. Yes, I enjoyed it very much. Moreso now that the woman who performed it within arms reach. Even if it were routine I have my doubts men would tire to watch you move as you did time and again.." Daron's accent in the baritone of his voice tattled a Kul Tiran background, even if the rather obvious sea-worthy attire covering his powerful frame did not.

Ducking his head down to adjust the fit of that patterened bandana keeping his hair in place when tucked under that weathered tricorne, the man spared a subtle glance about the busy marketplace. "I suppose that is why you are found wandering the marketplace and not kept in a palace somewhere in these endless sands.."

"Amusingly enough, I have been offered a place in many a palace," the half-elf said with a knowing smile. "Tempting offers, all around, but a palace is only a gilded cage. I would suffocate in such an environment." Her tone was ever so melodramatic, though the smile on her lips would inform Daron that she was simply teasing. She settled back slightly and flicked her and conjured a glass of wine, taking a sip. "I am glad you enjoyed it. While I love my art, and I perform it mostly for me, I do enjoy hearing the opinions of others of how well I perform." Her tone was quite welcoming, she truly did appreciate his opinion. She offered a playful wink and set the glass of wine near her platter.

"Forgive me, I have been rude....I have intruded on your meal and haven't even introduced myself. I am Neeia." She smiled at him.

"Oh, I can imagine the offers you recieve on a daily basis after such performances." As he let his gaze wander over her features, Daron could imagine being cooped up likely wasn't suited to her in the slightest. Tanned skin and all, Tanari peoples weren't meant for close confines or walls. Or so they lead most people to believe.. They weren't called Wastewanderer's for nothing either.

Daron's brows rose at the sudden conjuring, it wasn't often a sight he saw and in such close proximity. Though, the man didn't seem bothered by it in the slightest. "One can make that assumption, Friend. Else you would not be dancing about in one of the busiest markets South of Ratchet. I must admit, it's a useful talent you've got there.. I appreciate the way it turned all the heads here." The large man was no fool.. He'd been in this life enough to see the game at play. How the winking and pleasant smiles were offered up almost continuously, the way her form settled as presentable as possible. He knew the game, and Daron played along willingy.

"I do enjoy the change of pace.. Neeia?" Her name said aloud, ensuring he pronounced it correctly, and comitting it to his memory. "Here when someone sits at your table, there's usually a dagger or a firearm set down with them. Gesturing with a hand over her form. "-This- is preferrable of course. -- Call me Daron."

"Daron," she said aloud, also committing it to memory. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Daron," she said. She also was no fool, and could tell from the compliments that Daron was onto her verbal performance, which brought a smile to her lips. She did enjoy the game all too well, and especially enjoyed those who were well versed in it. "Tanaris as a whole tends to be rather cuthroat, not just Gadgetzan," she said, her eyes flickering with mischief. "You look like you can handle yourself though. I would suspect that only the very insane would think twice before causing you distress," she said, taking another sip of the conjured wine.

She was about to continue the conversation when she noticed something in the background, and she turned her head slightly to regard the disturbance that drew her attention. A corpulent goblin in a frayed tricorne, followed by two humans, pushed past the people dwelling around the market. She recognized the goblin, of course....he had constantly made passes at her after performances and never took rejection well, which had led her to hire guards at some of her stops. He had a bad habit of showing up where she was, and she often wondered if he had hired someone to trail her. She contemplated making a break for it when he spotted her and swaggered his way towards the table where the two sat. "Speaking of insane," she said softly under her breath, just low enough for Daron to hear her.

"Neeia, babe," the goblin shouted as he approached. "A great performance again! When ya goin' to let me take care of youse for the rest of your life!" Neeia sent a withering look his way. "I'm not. I've told you this before, Terik." The goblin pressed closer, ignoring Daron for the moment. "Oh come on, toots! You'll want fer nothin', all ya gotta do is dance fer me! Only fer me!" His laughter was much too loud, causing her ears to twitch painfully and she shied backwards away from him. Perhaps it was best for her to retreat to her wagon and get away from him. She turned to look at Daron and smiled faintly. "I am so sorry, Daron. Please, enjoy your evening. It was a pleasure talking to you." She rose from the table, hoping to not draw the goblin's attention or his bruisers to Daron, but her efforts failed. Terrik turned to look at Daron with a sniff. "Who is this clown," the goblin said.

The large Kul Tiran's gaze flicked towards one of the gates around the walled porty city at her mentioning of Tanaris' cutthroat-like nature. And, while he hadn't been to many places in this endless desert beyond what he could see from the coast he had to admit she was right. Dipping his head in an agreeing nod, Neeia would catch that smirk tugging once more at the corners of his mouth. "Too kind, Neeia.. Though it is an intended look. Life out here, and anywhere the sea can reach for that matter is a battle of survival at all times." Indeed, the man seated before her was certainly dressed to survive. Like the dozen or so other men gathered about their 'spot' in the marketplace they were all garbed for the sea. Sturdy, weathered leathers in the form of long overcoats or studded jerkins. Layers of cloth that helped protect the skin from the spray of the sea, etc. Not to mention the weapons...

Lofting a bushy brow at the words that then came from the fire dancers lips, Daron's features darkened as that voice reached his ears. Remaining seated as he was, the man spared a glance at the annoying green creature swaggering towards his table and as he pressed conversation upon Neeia, Daron took the opportunity to cast a nod towards the other three tables of gathered men in his sights.

"You have not finished your meal, Neeia. Sit please, I insist." Ignoring the rude little bastard to his right for the moment as Daron gestured at the spot Neeia had previously occupied. Had the whole marketplace gone quiet? Likely not, no.. But the immediate area certainly had. A dozen others had stopped eating their meals.. And had subtly shifted to face their table. "Terik.. was it? I'm afraid you may have been told something of a lie." Daron began as he settled his storm-touched stare upon the Goblin without moving from his seat. "That you could come here and interrupt my lunch.." Gesturing to Neeia. "..And hers, and expect that you could walk away unharmed."

The bruisers were smarter than their annoying boss, and were instantly on guard at the sudden turning of Daron's men towards his table. Neeia noticed the shift in attention herself and settled gracefully back on the bench, her eyes now sparkling with amusement and interest on how events would play out. Terik, on the other hand, did not seem to care that he was now surrounded by a dozen men, all of which looked formidable in their own right. He sneered, his brutish face turning even more ugly with the expression on his features. "Now see here. This is my territory, bub, and I'll go where I damn well please." One of the bruisers cleared his throat to get his throat to get his bosses attention. "Boss, I don't think that's wi....." Before he could finish, however, the goblin reached out and swept his arm out to knock both Neeia's tray and Daron's to the ground.

Neeia stared at the goblin, then lowered her eyes towards the now ruined lunches on the ground, then back up at the goblin. "Well. I knew you were insane. I suspected you were stupid. Now that pretty much confirms it," she said with a bland tone. He turned angrily towards her. "If I wanted yer opinion, whore, I'd slap it into ya," he said. Neeia's eyes widened at the insult and she let out a laugh. The bruiser who'd been trying to warn the goblin groaned, and the two backed away, their hands held high. They weren't getting paid enough for this.

From that bandolier slung slash-style across his chest Daron drew of one of the flintlocks holstered there. The sound of Neeia's laughter interrupted seconds later by the all too familiar click of a hammer brought back to full cock, and the loud crack of the trigger being pulled. Smoke and fire exploding from Daron's pistol as the man aimed right between Teriks eyes without so much as moving from his seat. "Someone make a note of that Goblins bravery." Giving one final glance to the green corpse now laying in the sand at his table before his gaze rose to the pair of bruisers Terik had brought with him, wisely backing away. Those dozen or so men that had watched the situation unfold gave their own sweeps of the marketplace, as if waiting to see if anyone else was going to come and disturb the captain's lunch and they'd get their own chance at a bit of violence.

Holstering that flintlock back to the bandolier slung across his chest, Daron swung a leg over the bench he sat on and rose to rifle through Terik's corpse for a coinpurse. "Evans.. Come here and take this. One-hundred pieces to Bilgewizzle before he sents his boys in here to kick us our. Give him my apologies for disrpting business." A younger lad moved from one of the tables and scampered forth to carry out Daron's orders, zig-zagging through the marketplace coin in hand.

"Raulins! It seems we're in need of some more crab!" The large Kul Tiran hollared over at the cook before he eased himself back down onto the bench and peered at Neeia. "Apologies.. Where we were?"

The bruisers watched their boss fall backwards onto his back, dead before he hit the ground. One of them moved forward as if to pick him up, then thought better of it and fled. It seemed the dancer was made of sterner stuff, because she didn't even bother to flinch when the goblin met his end. She watched the events unfold, and her amber eyes flicked from the corpse back towards Daron. She smiled at his casual return to the conversation and she couldn't help but laugh. It was a sweet sound, and held no sense of maliciousness. "You are forgiven. I thank you for defending my honor, even if it was unintentional. That one should have met his end long ago. Unfortunately he has more powerful friends than I do. I hope to change that in the future."

She took a sip of her wine as more crabs were delivered. The goblin's corpse was eventually collected and removed by some of the town's guards. The bribe was more than enough to keep the town's leadership from molesting her or Daron's men. She selected one of the crabs and broke it open to get to the meat within and took a small bite. "I believe we were exchanging compliments," she said with a playful smile. "I don't mind going back to such wordplay. I do enjoy compliments." Her tone was light, full of humor. She took another bite and then reclined backwards. "Where do you come from, Daron, if I may ask?"

With 'normalcy' returned to Gadgetzans marketplace, or at least this little patch of it Daron occcupied, Neeia became his sole focus once again. Smirking at the laughter that came from her lips and he'd tipped his head in a nod her way. "Powerful friends are only useful when they're standing beside you. Any man that speaks o' having such friends and stands alone? He's already fucked." He needn't gesture to the corpse now being dragged away to prove his point..

"Besides, I didn't appreciate our conversation being so rudely interrupted." Watching as she delved into the crab Raulins had brought to their table before similarly tearing apart his own meal. "Were we? Ah, yes I remember now.." Daron chuckled, it was quite obvious the women enjoyed being on the rewarding end of a compliment.. He certainly wasn't beneath sharing them. "Where do I come from?" The skin around Darons eyes crinkled as amusement dominated his weathered features. "I come from the sea, Neeia. Brought in by the tides and when they retreat so too shall I. The last time I was on land for any lengthy stretch of time was Kul Tiras, if that suffices."

"It does. I know a little of Kul Tiras. My mother and father served Lady Proudmoore during the Third War when she brought us to Kalimdor. I've always wanted to go there, but teleportation magic requires one to have been to a place to know where to anchor a portal. I hope someday to travel the world, just so I can go to wherever I want to whenever I want to. That's the business part of why I dance, you see. I need to survive, of course, but I also want to save enough gold to make my way around the world, and see everything." She let out a pleasant sigh, as if that dream sustained her. "Until then, I have to settle on stories from those who come from the across the ocean."

Daron continued to work at the meal layed out before them as he spoke, though his gaze was never gone for more than a moment or two from her features as that tale was told. More than just a fire dancer then he thought, making note of her mention of portals as he slid his plate towards the edge of the table. "I ain't want to upset your plans, Neeia.. But I don't think you're needin' a whole life savings to travel the world." He began, glancing about the space around them as he rose from his seat and lifted his foot to rest on the bench. Leaning with his forearm resting atop his knee. "What do ya say, lads? Should we give this little fire dancer a way to get from port to port?"

Raucus cheered erupted from the tables around Neeia and Daron, as men stomped their feet and shouted encouragement. Daron, for his mark was all smiles and he reached for that weathered tricorne resting atop the table. "I am sure the finer details can be worked out later, but I can't deny having a dancer aboard my ship might make the months spent at sea a little more enjoyable for everyone. Unless you'd prefer to continue living here, staving off desperate goblins?" Glancing around Gadgetzan as he shook his head.

"I haven't been entirely forthcoming, Neeia.. I didn't expect to shoot a man today over a woman, but now I'm wholly invested doing so as many times as necessary until I've discovered just who I've got seated before me. I am Daron Greystone, of the Siren's Wail."

She blinked slightly. Her intentions of approaching him had not been to wheedle a place onto his crew...but she supposed in the back of her mind, there was always the possibilitiy of such an offer being made. At his mention of staving off desperate goblins, however, she offered a laugh and a bow of her silver-haired head. "After such an agreeable welcome, how could I deny such a boisterous invitation from you and your crew? I, of course, will be willing to earn my keep. Yes, I am a dancer, and that is how I make my living. I also am well versed in magic. Whatever small service I can be to pay for passage, I will do so."

At his true introduction, and his mentioning of the name of his ship, she smiled widely, her eyes glowing. Already it seemed she was in love, and she hadn't even seen the ship yet. "The Siren's Wail? I would be insane not to take you up on your offer, Daron. Do you think you will have enough room for my things?"

Daron nodded his head as he gathered up the last of his things off the table and then rounded its edge before he offered out his hand towards the fire dancer. Around them the crew rose from their seats and began to filter towards Gadgetzans docks. "Your things? Oh I am sure we'll manage.. It's a fairly large ship." How much could she really have anyways? They'd make do. Large volumes of cargo were nothing knew to the crew of the Sirens Wail.

"Come, the ocean calls and there's a lot of it out there for us to show you."

@thesirenswail

#roleplay #scene #storyline #past

1 note · View note

volleydorkscentral · 5 years ago

Note

ANSWER ALL OF THE QUESTIONS IN THE UNUSUAL ASK GAME, YOU COWARD.

First of all:

Second, questions under the cut:

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? - Spotify! all the way. i hoarse my bf’s account so he can never listen but i don’t care it’s mine now it’s full of my music and my playlists and whenever i’m listening to it and it suddenly changes cause he tries to use it on his phone I call him, “are you using spotify?” “oh. i mean i can listen to something else?” “cool, thanks!” and i get my music back. :D

is your room messy or clean? - it’s somewhere in between. my actual ROOM (bed room, i assume) is pretty clean, except i never make the bed. but the house is .. a work in progress. it’s not dirty but it’s cluttered so my bf and I are having to work together to clear that and build shelves and stuff for more storage space.

what color are your eyes? - dark brown! (with little green flecks when I cry)

do you like your name? why? - Not really? i don’t hate it. My mom wanted to name me Savannah but they had her sign the certificate while she was still drugged from her c-section so it ended up as Crystal?? Idk. She named her dolls Crystal when she was a kid.

what is your relationship status? - dating for almost six years.

how many times a week do you shower? uhhh idk. I don’t shower every day (unless i get gross). AT LEAST four times… but I don’t wash my hair every time cause that’s bad for my hair. I SHOWER WHEN I AM DIRTY.

favorite tv show? does Haikyuu!! count? that’s probably a given. HM. Well, we don’t have cable so I don’t watch a lot of NEW shows? …. OH. Duh. Fuckin me I’m a dumbass. Bob’s Burgers. I literally have it on ALL THE TIME. I don’t like silence so it’s ALWAYS on in the background if i’m not listening to music. I’ve seen every episode a zillion times. I can usually pinpoint every scene and the major lines/jokes.

shoe size? most brands it’s 5 1/2

how tall are you? SHORTER THAN NISHINOYA BUT TALLER THAN YACHI. I’m like… 5ft-5’1 depending on how much my back hurts. (i used that earlier and someone said it was funny and i’m trash so i’ll repeat it here!)

sandals or sneakers? i wear Bobs LOL. (knock off toms) and i’ve got one pair of sneakers and sometimes I wear my ballet flats around even though my bf says they look dumb fuck u they’re comfy.

do you go to the gym? No. I used to, but where I live now it’d be like a 45 min drive. I don’t really LIKE gyms though? working out is boring to me. No matter how hard I try. I’d love to start dancing again for real.

describe your dream date - April 25th because it’s not too cold and not too hot. Okay but jk that’s a lie where I live it’s balls hot in april. Idk. I’d like to go hiking when it’s not very hot? Take my dog, let her run around. Take a picnic. Sit in a grassy field and talk about dumb shit cause we know each other’s dreams and hopes by now.

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? UHM. fuck like…. $27? i know there’s a twenty and a handful of ones. And a handful of change.

what color socks are you wearing? - NONE. MY FEET ARE COLD. FOREVER COLD.

how many pillows do you sleep with? - pft like 6.

do you have a job? what do you do? - No; I quit after being over worked, under appreciated, cheated out of my paychecks a few times, and no job still due to lingering health issues.

how many friends do you have? answered this already!

whats the worst thing you have ever done? - UHM. Idk i haven’t murdered anyone. I don’t like this question cause if i really try to answer it i’ll spiral into a frustrated, furious depression and self-hatred so… NOPE.

whats your favorite candle scent? i’ve got this candle i got from etsy that’s like… Scottish Highlands? It’s grassy and kinda MAGICY.

3 favorite boy names - i don’t really have favorite names?

3 favorite girl names - answered already

favorite actor? god idk. i’m so bad with names and celebrities. uhm. I really like don’t have a favorite. I LIKE a bunch. Benedict Cumberbatch; Freddie Highmore… uhm. uh. Hugh Laurie?

favorite actress? IDK OKAY?? I LIKE a bunch but i don’t favorite?? I really like Gwendoline Christie. Uhm. Anne Hathaway makes me laugh. MAGGIE SMITH. how could i forget!??!

who is your celebrity crush? I LEGIT don’t have one.

favorite movie? CLUE takes the top spot most days.

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? I used to read a lot more. The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt

money or brains? personality, bitch.

do you have a nickname? what is it? not *really* but people online used to call me Chrys. My bf calls me ‘sweetie’ sometimes but he also calls the dog that so… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

how many times have you been to the hospital? - uhm. like the er? Once when I broke my arm. Doc in the box? Not since 2017.

top 10 favorite songs - PFT. Uhm. Jesus just let me die a little. Excluding all Disney; Not in any order:

No One - Biometrix

Danser - Lisandro Cuxi

A Single Moment of Sincerity (E) - Asking Alexandria (the band I was listening to when I designed my rockstar MC that I love so much)

The Annabel Trilogy (a series of 3 albums) - Alesana. Can’t pick a single song because they’re all a part of a huge story. Listen to them.

Chucky vs. The Giant Tortoise - Dance Gavin Dance

Anticoagulant - Sianvar

Ohioisonfire - Of Mice & Men

Coincidance - Handsome Dancer (Watch the Video for the love of god. THANKS ASH FOR THIS GEM)

Devil’s Backbone - The Civil Wars

Still Here - Digital Daggers (i’ve been listening it to a lot for inspiration for a new AU so… yup. That’s gonna be fun and painful)

do you take any medications daily? - yup

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc) - i got dry ass skin it sucks

what is your biggest fear? - uhm… physical fear? idk. Heights is a big one that I developed? I used to not care but a while ago I was walking on a bridge and I just… looked over and got FUCKING DIZZZY with nausea and fear that I was gonna fall and almost fainted.

how many kids do you want? - HONESTLY… one or two.

whats your go to hair style? - tried to brush but gave up so just threw it in a claw clip

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) - moderate? one story, four bedrooms. big ass yard though for the dog

who is your role model? - I don’t really have one.

what was the last compliment you received? - answered already

what was the last text you sent? - actual TEXT message? ‘as long as there’s someone with her overnight she’ll be okay during the day cause of the dog door and stuff. just play with her before you go to work and maybe hide some treats around the house for her to hunt for’ - texting my friend that’s gonna house sit while we go on a family vacation soon.

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? - UH idk the age? i know I saw my mom writing scavenger cards though. My fam has never had a lot of money so to make Christmas more interesting my mom/grandparents (we lived with them till I was in 3rd grade) would make these elaborate scavenger hunts for me and my cousins to do to find our presents around the house or out in the barn or, on one memorable occasion, at the bottom of our pool! Good memories.

what is your dream car? - one that RUNS and has badass AC and speakers

opinion on smoking? - hate it. please don’t do it around me. my bf’s family alllllll smoke all the time and i get so sick when i have to go on vacation with them and be around it for a long time.

do you go to college? - i DID. I went to Culinary school and majored in Baking & Pastry

what is your dream job? - Author or Dog Trainer

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? - rural as all hell. give me trees, cows, and horses.

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? Not usually? but usually the people i’m with do.

do you have freckles? Not on my face (except one) but i’ve got more like… on my arms and just randomly all over but i dont think ‘freckles’ would be what anyone thinks of when they think of me

do you smile for pictures? - only if i’m forced to be in them

how many pictures do you have on your phone? - HAHAHAHAHAHA. Well. Before I got my new phone it was over 10k. Now though its only about 2k.

have you ever peed in the woods? - Only when I was camping.

do you still watch cartoons? - ALL THE GODDAMN TIME

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds? - neither. but i HATE WENDYS and can tolerate McD’s fries and they’ve got ballin’ sweet tea so I guess McD.

Favorite dipping sauce? this honey dijon creamy thing at my favorite French restaurant but idk what is is.

what do you wear to bed? - t-shirt

have you ever won a spelling bee? - YUP. 2nd grade.

what are your hobbies? - writing, crocheting, photography, reading, uh… i forget what else

can you draw? when i was doing it all the time i did ok? but i’m WAY TOO IMPATIENT now a days to do it.

do you play an instrument? - no but i wish i did :(

what was the last concert you saw? - i’ve never been to a concert. crowds are icky

tea or coffee? - tea!

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? - already answered this

do you want to get married? - Yes pls

what is your crush’s first and last initial? - (bf, but I suppose i still have a crush on him? is love considered a crush?) J. Y.

are you going to change your last name when you get married? god yes. my current last name is my shitbag of a sperm doner and i hate it. my mom kept it after they divorced only cause she thought her maiden name would be too hard for me to spell but i would give anything to have that name instead

what color looks best on you? - idk. i prefer black but i’ve been told green and certain shades of pink/yellow.

do you miss anyone right now? - not until i thought about it, thanks

do you sleep with your door open or closed? open so my pupper can go in and out

do you believe in ghosts? not until i’m faced with darkness and creepy things

what is your biggest pet peeve? people chewing their food loud. people not picking up after themselves. people interrupting me (but not in the excited, OMG way. that we can work though) but in the ‘i don’t care what you’re saying i’m going to talk now’ way

last person you called` - my bf to discuss plans for his brother’s bday

favorite ice cream flavor? cookies n’ cream!

regular oreos or golden oreos? DOUBLE STUFF OF EITHER

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? FUCK SPRINKLES

what shirt are you wearing? a shirt that has my dog’s face on it :D

what is your phone background? - the art that Ash drew of Bokuto from my fic Just a Taste!!

are you outgoing or shy? - i hate talking to strangers but with my friends i’m pretty fucking loud and chatty

do you like it when people play with your hair? only people i know

do you like your neighbors? nope. he’s an asshole who neglected his dog and i wanna skin him alive

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? i do my best to remember to do it at night but i always do it when i shower

have you ever been high? yup.

have you ever been drunk? yup

last thing you ate? BIRTHDAY CAKE

favorite lyrics right now - idk? i guess the first lyrics that came to mind, even though they’re not my favorite, just ones that i like and were stuck in my head for a while: “All of the handsome fiction / will melt away / and when the flame burns brighter / Evaporate” Evaporate - Dance Gavin Dance

summer or winter? WINTER FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. IT’S SO FUCKING HOT IN SUMMER I DIE EVERY DAY

day or night? both have their merits

dark, milk, or white chocolate? - all chocolate but i prefer white to just EAT.

favorite month? uhm. uhh. November maybe? for NaNoWriMo.

what is your zodiac sign - pftt.. i think i used to be a Gemini? i don’t believe in all that stuff

who was the last person you cried in front of? - ….. my dog? but probably my mom and Grandmother when my GM basically said my bf didn’t love me and was a shit human being and i was a shit granddaughter for loving him. i was both upset and furious and i walked away from them. (my mom called and apologized, but i haven’t spoken to my GM since)

THERE ASH ARE YOU GODDAMN HAPPY. that took so long LOL (I hope the formatting came through I had to redo it on this tumblr page UGH)

#ask game

3 notes · View notes

shewhowantsmouseears · 6 years ago

Text

The Little Peach, Chapter Three

Notes: Big thanks to my amazing editor, Drucilla!

NGL, the onslaught of Ducktales has been very distracting. But I promise I'll see this Mickey story to the end! Also, this is only the beginning of so, so many anime/manga cliches. I mean them with love, I truly do.

Summary: With his home lost to the enemy, Mickey sets out on a journey to change his destiny. Elsewhere, the ruler of Japan issues her own challenge.

It was not accurate to say Mickey woke up still exhausted, as that would imply he slept at all that first night. When he and Donald returned home, Daisy had been so grateful they returned that she never noticed that what little emotional bond the men had was severed harshly. Mickey went to his room – the top shelf of Daisy's drawers – but did not sleep, could not sleep. While he had known for some time that Donald had felt that way toward him, actually hearing it made it more painful. There was nothing that could fix it – he never would be Donald's son. Donald would never see him as anything more than a burden, and wasn't he? All he'd done that night was get Donald injured.

Come the morning, Daisy opened the drawer to offer Mickey his birthday breakfast, but he declined. She assumed he was upset over the village now being owned by the Oni, and could hardly blame him. She decided that, perhaps, it would be best to hold off any celebrations until they felt a sense of hope again. Neither man had told her what actually happened that night, out of shame – and an accurate fear that Daisy would tear Donald to pieces. She allowed Mickey to wallow in solitude, and Mickey intended on wallowing for a very long time. But life was moving on without his say-so, and there were more important things to think about than self-pity.

Over the course of the day, Donald's injuries meant he could barely get out of bed, so Daisy went out to help clean up Grandma's farm. The fire had destroyed most of it, but the old woman was determined to restore it, and everyone in the village joined hands to help. Daisy didn't return home until night, and when she did, she opened the drawer to Mickey and cheerfully told him everything was fine, don't you worry, Mama would never let anything happen to you. She gave him his dinner and closed the drawer, in order to relay her real fears to Donald.

“How bad is it?” Donald asked, sitting on the bed, his arm in a clumsily-made sling. Occasionally he glanced at the drawer, and during the day had made efforts to go near it, but each and every time he gave up, though Mickey was oblivious to this.

“It's not as awful as we thought it would be,” Daisy attempted something like bravado, but Donald knew his wife well enough to see the strain in her eyes. Mickey could hear it too – he'd let his parents believe that the drawers blocked out all sound, when in reality he could hear every word. It was a mischievous lie as a child that grew into a necessary lie as an adult, as sometimes Mickey felt the only way he'd hear any truth was if they thought he'd never hear. “We can still come and go as we please...we aren't being captured and sold off like horses.”

“But.” Donald raised an eyebrow, knowing full well there was a “but” coming.

“But...” Daisy sighed, hanging her head. “They're demanding money and food from us daily. With each passing day that the princess doesn't hand over the Lucky Hammer to the Oni King, we're expected to give away more and more. At that rate, we'll all wind up starving in a month or two.”

“The princess won't surrender,” Donald cut in, but not out of malice or anger. This was a tone of deep respect, though she'd been born after he'd left the Emperor's side, so he'd never even seen her face. “The royal family must stay strong, if we're to defeat the Oni. The Emperor would never have a child that would back down!”

“That's all well and good for her, but what about us?” Daisy sat on the bed next to Donald, looking him over – she didn't expect his arm to get any better overnight, but it was still a depressing sight. “You said it yourself, they're torturing us in order to put pressure on her. If something isn't done, we might have to leave our village, our home! What will we do?”

Donald didn't answer, and Mickey didn't blame him. This was as hopeless a situation as one could get. Honor was a great and powerful thing, and no one wanted the princess to hand over the Lucky Hammer, and essentially all of Japan, over to the evil Oni King. But honor wasn't going to save anyone, and their village was down one powerful samurai. They needed all the help they could get, and Mickey was upset that he couldn't provide this. He wanted to keep his parents safe, and held no hate for the man he thought of as a father. Donald had only said the truth. If only there was a way he could, at least, provide Donald with some kind of pride and happiness. Maybe then Donald could think of a way they could save the day.

Mickey sat on his own bed – a sock with ripped fabric for sheets – and held his head in his hands. Was his father right, and that things couldn't change?

“Maybe the princess could use the Lucky Hammer to turn into a giant and squish them all,” Daisy said in an attempt at humor, resting her head on Donald's shoulder. “I've heard that she's very beautiful but also very small. They'd never see it coming.”

Donald chuckled weakly, his good arm around Daisy's shoulder. “Wouldn't that be nice...but a weapon that dangerous can't be used so easily. There were so many rules and restrictions about it... why, I never even saw it for myself. Maybe that's a good thing. I would've been tempted to add a few inches.”

Mickey quickly lifted his head.

“Hush, you're the right size, you always have been.” Daisy kissed Donald's cheek. “If you were too tall, you couldn't have carried me over the river when I lost my sandal.”

“I did fall in the river first,” he reminded her. “But I would have carried you all across the ocean if you only asked.”

While his parents fell into sickeningly sweet mushy memories of their courtship, Mickey's mind was elsewhere. The Lucky Hammer – why didn't he realize it sooner? If he had that, why, he could be as tall as any normal man his age! That would surely bring his father happiness and pride – and maybe he could teach Mickey proper swordsmanship, so they could fend off the Oni together! The idea excited him so much that he jumped out of bed – and hit his head. “Ow!”

Daisy turned her head, surprised. “Oh, dear. I've told him to be careful in there... I do want to celebrate his birthday soon. He's eighteen now, but it feels like just yesterday he came to us. You never did tell me what you got him as a present.”

Donald didn't reply, detaching himself from Daisy and crawling into bed. Daisy's voice went from sweet to sour within seconds. “You did get him a birthday present this year, didn't you?”

“He wouldn't want one from me – WAK!” That answer got him shoved out of bed, and he fell onto the floor with a thud.

“You don't get to share our bed unless you get our baby a present!” Daisy snapped, and then tucked herself into bed, throwing Donald a pillow – Mickey couldn't be sure if she threw it at him – before huffing. “Goodnight.”

“Good-ow-night.”

Mickey shook his head, trying to get rid of the pain as soon as possible. It wasn't too bad – his usual three-pronged headaches were much worse – but he wanted to get ready for what he was planning. In order to get the Lucky Hammer, he'd have to get to the princess, who lived in the palace, which was miles and miles and miles and miles away from the village, a place he'd never left. It'd take a long time for an ordinary person to get there, perhaps made shorter by horse or carriage, but Mickey had neither, and was as non-ordinary as you could get. Daisy would never allow it, so he'd have to leave in secret.

It would be a journey fraught with perilous dangers, ranging from deadly Oni to a person accidentally stepping on him. He had only the faintest idea of where to even start, and given his size, he couldn't pack much of anything. Every mile of this idea was threatening – and Mickey couldn't be delighted. A real hero's journey! The makings of a rogue samurai warrior! He'd have his own legend, just like his father! He'd bring his family honor!

He waited until he heard Donald snoring, and climbed out the back of the dresser. He could only afford to carry a few things, so he made quick choices – his mother's sewing needle for a blade, and the “bedsheets” would carry what food he could bring – cuttings of bread and cheese from the kitchen. With that tied around his neck and hanging off his back, he returned to the bedroom to make his goodbyes. He climbed into his mother's bed, and gently kissed her cheek, apologizing for the worry he'd no doubt give her.

He then turned toward his father, who snoozed away on the floor, and bowed deeply to him.

“This I vow,” he said quietly, “I will not return until I am a man you would call your son.” No matter how long it took, no matter the danger – once a samurai gave their word, it could only be broken by death.

With a deep breath, Mickey left the bedroom, made it to the first window he saw, and climbed down into the grass that was taller than he was. The night was full of brightly shining stars, and for now they would have to be his guide. He took his first step, hesitated, looked back at his house, and then walked forward again. All right, so he was a little nervous. Perhaps a little scared. But in order not to be little anything anymore, he would have to push on and let nothing stop him.

There was of course one more matter to consider – convincing the princess to let him use it. Yet Mickey didn't see this as any great obstacle. After all, he was in a very unique position! He'd never heard of anyone small as he was, and it wasn't as if he was asking to be made as tall as a mountain. He only needed to borrow it for a moment, and then he'd return it, and all would be well. Surely the Princess would understand – why, once she saw him, she'd know what he'd want immediately!

He'd never heard much about her, even in his mother's tales – supposedly the young woman was around his age, never left the palace due to the Oni King's attacks, and she was pretty. That was about all he knew, and he figured it was enough. Her father, the Emperor, had been a wise, vitreous, and noble man, one Donald had been honored to serve. Donald even got along with his fellow samurai, and they were all one big, happy family. Certainly his daughter would be the same way, as Mickey wanted to be the same way as his father.

And so Mickey set off on his journey, head held high, dreaming of the day when he would be Donald's real son, and a real man on his own. The princess would help him out – a wise and powerful woman like that, who held rule over all of Japan, surely could be compassionate and logical as well. How could she not be?

~*~

At that same time, there was another young man who was thinking the same as Mickey – that the young woman before him would be wise, worldly, and able to help all. Their meeting was almost over, as the hour ran late. Yet there was one subject on which she would not budge, no matter how high the moon was in the sky.

“I will send provisions to the north, but they must take the mountain path,” the princess answered, sitting on her throne, her gorgeous kimono covering her feet and floor like and endless ocean of blues and grays. Though she was using a wooden fan to cover her mouth, her demure voice came through clearly, without hesitation or pause. Her thick white make-up allowed her sapphire eyes to shine even brighter, cutting through air like the sharpest blade. “It will be difficult for the Oni to ambush them this way. Even so, prepare them with archers – we mustn't let a single grain of rice be taken. Once it has been delivered, I want a full report on the south.”

“Yes, my lady,” the man replied, trying to keep his head respectfully bowed and low. Yet for the next question, he couldn't help but glance at her. “But... ah... I don't supposed... you've considered my proposal...?”

Snap. The fan was shut instantly with a harsh noise, and her lady-in-waiting at her side visibly winced. “My people continue to suffer under the wrath of the treacherous Oni King. Their fields burn, their livelihood stolen, and with each passing day, my father's legacy is either tainted or forgotten. And you think I have the time to consider something like marriage?”

The man yelped, and tried to get to his feet, stumbling. “I-I meant no disrespect, my lady! I just – I thought – your father said - ”

“I am fully aware of what my father said. I was at his bedside when he passed.” Her cobalt glare now made the calm sea of her dress turn into a raging storm that would drown anyone who came nearby. “Do you think you know my father's wishes, more than his own daughter would? Do you think so little of us both? We, who are Japan's very soul? Do you have no love for your own land?”

Had the young man not been so afraid of upsetting the princess any further, he might have noticed the lady-in-waiting rolling her eyes. “No, no! I do! I – that was – I'll see myself out!” He scrambled to get to the doorway, nearly knocking over her second most trusted guard on the way out.

The guard whistled, impressed by the man's speed. “Gwarsh... everyone's in a real hurry these days! Why do you think that is?” he asked the man with him, the princess' third most trusted guard.

“You know what they say, goof. Get busy livin', or get busy dyin'!”

The lady-in-waiting waiting grumbled, helping the princess off her throne – it was tall, and she was small, so it was always a process. “That was the fifth suitor this month you've chased off! You can't keep this up forever!”

The princess calmly walked forward once she was on solid ground. “I've made my demands clear, Clarabelle. Besides, didn't you hear a single word I said to him? All of it was true.”

“Sure, it was true,” Clarabelle crossed her arms, “But they ain't the real reason you don't wanna get hitched, and we all know it. A husband would help you through these tough times! You can't do this all on your own, things are getting worse by the day! It's too much of a burden!” She followed along, and both guards bowed deeply as the Princess passed. “I worry for you, my lady! I truly do!”

The number one most trusted guard was waiting for at the end of the hallway, and he smiled pleasantly as she approached, gesturing to the door beside him as he bowed. “The delivery has arrived, princess. As always, I made sure it went right to your room.” When he straightened up, he gave a little wink to Clarabelle, always flirtatious even when the situation was beyond appropriate. “Why must you worry so, Lady Clarabelle? It's a sin to the world to see such a lovely face frown.”

“I got plenty to frown about, and you're not helping.” Clarabelle huffed, sticking her finger right on the guard's small beak, pushing him back slightly. “She just had a delivery a week ago! You're encouraging a bad habit!”

The guard merely blinked at her, not intimidated. “She is the princess! We have sworn to obey her every order. Goofy, Pete, you agree, yes?”

“Every single order!” said Goofy with a salute, though he did it so hard he hit his head with his hand, and he wobbled backwards dizzily.

“No matter how crazy it is,” Pete added, side-stepping away from Goofy's problem.

The princess ignored all the rabble, sliding her door open, and snapping her fan shut. “I'd like not to be disturbed for an hour. Have the next delegate for the countryside ready for me.”

“Oh, no you don't!” Clarabelle made a grab for the princess' shoulder, but she was too slow. “My lady, don't make me beg! You need a husband, and you need one pronto!”

“And I've told you time and time again...” The princess walked right up to the delivery – which was a mountain of books, three times bigger than she was. She whipped out the closest one, and stabbed the cover with her finger repeatedly – within her room and with those she trusted, she allowed her real personality to flourish.

“I'm not going to marry anyone who isn't exactly like Sir Sakura from Doki Doki Melody Springtime: Love's Sweetest Singing Song!”

With that, she sat on the floor, giggling wildly as she flipped through the book, squealing at the illustrations and holding them up to the sky. “Finally, volumes sixteen through thirty-four! I can't wait to catch up!” This was an opulent room, full of treasure, silks and other beauties – although it was difficult to know this, given how most of the room was now covered in similarly illustrated books, including her bed, and fit to burst from her closet. One good gust of wind would probably send those stacks of books falling and crushing anyone beneath it.

“Last I checked, buying the first one was your idea, Lady Clarabelle,” the most trusted guard reminded her with an amused smirk, leaning on the doorway.

“I thought it would cheer her up after her father died!” Clarabelle protested with clenched fists at her side. “How was I supposed to know she'd get so darn obsessed with it? Who would spend all their time and energy devoting themselves to stories about girls with giant sparkly eyes and fights that last three hundred pages without doing a thing?” She was tempted to go inside to try and wrestle the princess back out, but she feared doing so would start a chain reaction that would send all the books collapsing. “My lady, Sir Sakura isn't real!”

“He's real to me!” The princess whined, holding the book tenderly to her chest. “He's kind, and thoughtful, and brave, and clever, and I will not settle for any man who isn't exactly like him, down to the last detail!”

“Guess that means he better only be a couple of inches tall, too,” Pete snickered, jabbing Goofy with his elbow, only to grow frustrated when Goofy didn't get the joke. “Cause he's on paper, you dope!”

“You need to pick a real flesh and blood husband!” Clarabelle yelled, even while knowing she was being ignored in favor of fictional exploits. “I don't care who it is anymore, even a commoner will do! I'd be okay with you marrying the first man who walks into the door! Here, marry Pete!” She yanked Pete over by the arm and tried to get him into the room. “Just marry somebody!”

Pete grabbed the doorway with his hands so he wouldn't be pushed in any further. “I'm not going in there, those books will bury me alive!” He then put a hand to the side of his mouth, trying and failing to keep a whisper private. “Not that I'd be opposed to bein' your husband, princess, if you wanna think about it.”

But she wasn't thinking about it, or about anyone else anymore. No, the princess was in another world now, where a handsome wandering soldier was pledging his loyalty to his fair beloved, vowing to be by her side no matter what troubles came their way. The hero of these novels always did right, always saved the day, and always cured his lady of any heartache. How could anyone settle for less than that? He was flawless, utterly flawless! How was the princess supposed to be content in a marriage if they couldn't be half the man Sir Sakura was?

If she married someone inferior, she'd be miserable, and a miserable ruler would make for a miserable land. Japan was great and vast, so was it really so impossible to think there wasn't a single, solitary man that was exactly like her fictional favorite? There must be! And she'd wait until the end of time to be with him. Then she'd feel like the characters did in the book – her heart racing, her face warm, her body aching in a good way! That last part always confused her, though. Aches were painful, and she had enough stubs to her toe to know that for sure. So how could an ache be a good thing?

Well, no matter – once she fell in love, she'd understand it all at once. If anything, these books were practice for the real thing. Once she met her real-world Sir Sakura, she had several ideas on how to ensure a proper relationship – like bumping into him around a corner with bread in her mouth, or falling down in just the right way so that when he fell on top of her their lips would meet without their noses bonking somehow. Then she'd have that wonderful, glittery, sparkling feeling, and she'd never be sad again.

“Oh, just let her enjoy herself.” The trusted guard gently began to lead the others away from the door, sliding it shut quietly with one hand. “She's still young, and a young lady in love is a precious flower that must be handled delicately.”

“What do you know about love?” Clarabelle slammed a hand on his helmet, forcing it down so hard that one of his feathers was roughly scraped off. “You go out with a new girl every day! If the princess becomes anything like you, I swear I'll burn all those books and have a great big bonfire for all of Japan!”

Goofy lifted his head. “Oh, can I bring potatoes? I love roasted potatoes.” His helmet was slammed next, and his long ears got stuck inside it.

Pete swiftly decided to excuse himself before he became victim number three. “Maybe we should go back on guard duty. Never know when those smart Oni might come back to cause us some trouble. And remember, you two!” He lowered his voice, eyes dark. “No one must know that the Oni King is in hiding.”

“Secret's safe with me, Pete,” Goofy said, still trying to free himself from his helmet. “Don't think anyone outside of the castle knows that anyhow.”

“It'd scare our people down to the core,” said the bird, readjusting his helmet so he wouldn't lose anymore feathers. “Knowing that the Oni King can still somehow order his people around without being seen. Whatever he's doing, whatever he's plotting, we have to be ready for it. The princess and the Lucky Hammer must never get into his hands!”

Clarabelle glanced back at the room, sighing but not saying another word as the guards left with new resolve. Perhaps the princess spent so much time in the fantasy world because the real one was so much trouble. Even she, the lady-in-waiting and one of the princess' most devoted allies, had no idea where the Lucky Hammer was hidden. Not for lack of trying – why, it was a mere matter of curiosity, and no one could be blamed for trying to find it when they first started working in the castle. She remembered Pete spent three times as long as most newcomers trying to find any clues when he first joined a year ago, and he was incredibly sour when he had to give up, since it was cutting into his actual duties.

Very, very slowly, as though not to be heard, she slid the door open a crack to peek inside. The princess was still reading, sighing dreamily as she turned the page to the next development. One day that girl would find out love wasn't so black and white – literally – but it wasn't going to be today. The princess wasn't a bad person, but she certainly could use some guidance. Deep down, there was wisdom in her, the same wisdom that her father used to rule over the land. It just needed to be brought out.

The princess finished the volume, and proceeded to pull out the next book from the pile – which resulted in it falling on top of her, covering her in paper. She let out an “Eek!” and wiggled under the remains, reminding Clarabelle of a turtle on its back that couldn't get up. “Nooo! The spines are going to be bent! Help! Helllp!”

Clarabelle rubbed her temples. “Maybe I would let her marry someone a few inches tall.”

#disney #fanfic #the little peach #mickey mouse #minnie mouse #donald duck #daisy duck #clarabelle cow #goofy

5 notes · View notes

ontherun-writing · 6 years ago

Text

[compliments (1/4) - poetry] RK800/Reader

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this! It was overall just really fluffy and sweet (maybe tooth-rotting) so it was therapeutic almost.

Takes place post-pacifist ending where everyone lives + Connor becomes a police officer at DPD + Gavin with more personality than being an asshole etc + Connor lives w Hank. This will probably be two?? parts; it was supposed to be one but uh lmao.

Comments/Reblogs w tags much appreciated :)) I wanna know what ya’ll think

Part 2

Summary: Upon meeting you, Connor learns that he is surprisingly good at giving honest compliments, among other things.

Word Count: 4k+

The first time Connor met you, you had picked up a stray coin and asked it if it was his. He had been walking Sumo at the park nearby Hank’s apartment in the early afternoon when you passed by him, adjusting the strap on your backpack. He hadn’t expected you to pay any attention to him at all, so it had taken a moment to realize that you were talking to him. You held the quarter in between your thumb and index gently, waiting for his response with polite patience.

Connor did not remember taking out his coin on the duration of the walk, and feeling the pocket of his khaki shorts that Hank kindly gave(forced) him to wear, he knew that the coin was still there. Conclusion: that was not his coin.

Still, he took it anyways, giving you a lopsided smile that he hadn’t quite gotten the hang of yet. It was something about the way you asked him, shyly but with a touch of levity, that made him want to agree with you. Or was it the way your eyes flickered down at his body before meeting his eyes on the way back up.

You were attracted to him, he realized, analyzing the way your pupils dilated ever so slightly and how your temperature increased ever so slightly. His LED light was still attached to the right side of his forehead, so it was evident he was an android. But still, you found him sexually appealing.

Stumbling on his thoughts, Connor thanked you and pocketed the coin, hearing it ‘clink’ with the quarter that he already had in his pockets. Bringing his attention back to the present, he was surprised to see you still standing there, but your attention was already elsewhere, more specifically towards the large Saint Bernard that was wagging its tail furiously in hopes of getting petted. You looked up with him with an undisguised expression of excitement. “Can I pet him?” You asked, and when he nodded, you immediately began to coo at the large dog who was only too happy to oblige to your affectionate belly rubs.

Connor couldn’t help but feel vaguely disappointed. He looked to the side where you had placed your backpack (a student?) and watched as you quickly rolled up your black windbreaker sleeves to vigorously pet the dog.

He had almost missed your question, but could catch enough of your words to know that you were asking if he came here often. “Recently, I have been frequenting this park to walk Sumo,” he said, listening to you echo the dog’s name delightedly. “I have only recently moved to a neighborhood in close proximity to this area, so it’s most likely you would not have seen me prior to this month.”

You agreed, “I think I would notice you and such a cute dog,” you cooed at Sumo before reverting your voice back to its normal tone, “if you came around often before.” You scratched at Sumo’s ears absentmindedly as you looked up at him sheepishly. “I’m sorry,” you said, “I never got your name.”

“My name is Connor.” He had learned to leave out the rest of his introduction a while ago. “And yours?”

You responded back with your own name and got to your feet, seemingly satisfied with the amount of dog love you acquired through Sumo. You stuck out your hand and grinned widely, and as Connor shook your hand, you said, “It’s nice to meet you, Connor! I hope I’ll see you around more often!”

Just as casually as you began the conversation, you just as easily said your goodbyes. You waved eagerly, and he imitated the action but with less robustness. He watched you walk away until Sumo tugged at the leash, finally impatient enough to want to continue down the sidewalk. With a last glance at your retreating figure, Connor apologized to Sumo about the delay before following the dog on its mission to find a squirrel. He could only hope he would meet you again.

And he did the very next day.

“Connor! Hey!” You called for him, waving at him exuberantly. Connor had just exited the donut shop with an entire box of assorted ones for the police force when he heard your voice from down the street. When Connor met your eyes and raised his hand in a small wave, you beamed so clearly that he had a hard time figuring why it was so endearing you were so excited to see him.

Connor watched as you quickly told the two friends you were with something before bounding (yes, because there was an extra hop to your steps today compared to yesterday) to him with a warm smile. Again, there was that appreciative gaze you gave him as you looked up and down, the quickening of your heartbeat indicating that you very much liked the way he looked in his police uniform. “Didn’t expect to see you so soon,” you said teasingly. “I thought donuts were just a stereotype, officer.”

“Unfortunately, the lieutenant likes to consume unhealthy foods on a daily basis,” Connor explained, feeling a smile raise his lips as you huffed in amusement. “I would normally not indulge him on this, but it seemed that everyone else in the precinct wanted one, so I was sent.” It was Gavin that told him to go, telling him that since he made money now the least he could do was buy donuts. It was funny how their relationship developed, but at least they weren’t at each other’s throats, literally. Connor paused, unsure if his next words were overstepping anything. “Would you like one?” he offered.

“Oh, no! No, thanks.” You grinned. “I’m not that into donuts, surprisingly,” you said. “I’m more of an ice-cream kinda person, you know?”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” Connor said, liking the way your eyes gleamed.

“So, what is it like, being an officer,” you said, pointing at the DPD logo on his shoulder.

It hadn't been quite long since Connor was officially reinstated as an official detective after the revolution. An adjustment had to be made, of course, for both the precinct and for Connor himself as androids could not only hold their own jobs but also be protected under the law like a human.

It was an even bigger adjustment for him to be helping androids after weeks of deliberately hunting them down. Connor mindfully pushed that thought away.

“It’s not quite that big of change from what I was before,” he responded, smiling, hoping it was as warm as he could make it. “I get to protect both androids and humans, so that’s certainly something new. If anything, it’s… nice to be able to get paid, even though I have yet to figure out what I should spend on, besides pastries for the precinct, of course.”

You let out an appreciative laugh. “The job suits you,” you said, and he watched your eyes glanced over his attire again in approval. “You look good in uniform.” Your eyes widened in panic after your comment, pink blooming on your cheeks. “I--I mean,” you stammered, raising your hand to your lips, “you look good as an officer-- wait, uh, I mean, you do look good but--”

Connor quickly glanced at your attire: an apricot floral skirt that ended right above your knees, a top that complemented its color, twine-aesthetic sandals to finish the look. “You look nice as well,” he replied easily, watching as you snapped your mouth shut, the color on your cheeks continuing to spread. “Your outfit very much complements both your physical features and your personality,” he said as a matter of fact. “You look like the embodiment of a summer day.”

“I--” You paused, covering your mouth with your hand to hide the growing, but shy, smile on your face. Your eyes glanced at him ever so often. You let out a laugh as you looked back at him, face completely flushed, but your voice was as teasing as ever. “I never knew you were into Shakespeare,” you commented, but your tone told you that you were undeniably flattered.

(He quickly researched Shakespeare and received results about a poet that used a certain meter to tell stories and more famously, write love poems. If Hank knew he was accidentally quoting poetry, Hank would have gagged.)

“I’m not,” Connor said honestly, blinking. “That’s just what I saw.”

You laughed again and playfully pushed his shoulder as you gushed about what a poet he was and then proceeded to give him your phone number. “I want to get to know you more,” she said, and he agreed. All he really registered was that he would get to see you again. “Soon,” you had said to him hopefully before going back to your friends.

It had been a few days since the last time you had met Connor, and it was only through Hank’s insistence that he had sent you a text asking how your day was. “How the hell is she going to talk to you if she doesn’t have your phone number?” Hank had grumbled as Connor received his first text message back from you with a set of smiling emojis. He pretended not to care when Connor thanked him for his help, saying something along the lines of “don’t fucking mention it.”

It was then that Connor began to learn more about you. You were a second-year graduate student at a nearby university, living in an apartment with three other roommates. You liked pastel colors, dogs (he heard how you nostalgically talked about your own dog and made note to let you see Sumo again as soon as possible), and singing (though you said you were no good at it). There was very little things you disliked eating, and you had no allergies except to “maybe dust,” you had texted to him with a ‘laughing-crying’ emoji. It was apparent you conveyed your emotions through these small faces and hoped that you didn’t mind his lack of usage. Apart from texting, you would actually call him at night whenever he was free, mindful of his work schedule.

It was on a quiet Thursday night when you had called him at the usual time, 8 PM, and he picked up the phone knowing it was you without looking. “How are you?” He always began, feeling himself relax as he heard the laughter in your voice as you replied as the same as ever. Connor placed his jacket on the dining hall table and loosened his tie, speaking through the phone as he settled himself on the couch with Sumo soon following after him.

“So, I was wondering,” you said, the tone in your voice changing from playful to bashful. “If you’re free this Saturday, I was thinking maybe we could hang-- uh, go out together?”

Connor looked at the blank TV in front of him, watching as his LED swirled yellow momentarily. “I am free Saturday, and I’d be glad to be able to see you again,” he said. “What were you planning for us to do?”

“I was thinking about going to the aquarium,” you responded, sounding more flustered on the phone. “I remember you saying that you like animals, and you liked fish, and I thought maybe it’d be nice for us to go look at them together.” You mumbled something else, and Connor pressed the phone closer to his ears.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear the last part of what you said.” He continued, “But I would be delighted to go with you to the aquarium.”

“Just the two of us,” you said, though it sounded more like a question.

“Yes, of course.” Connor hoped he sounded as confused as he felt. “Is this not a date?”

Connor was alarmed at the loud crack over the other side of the call as he distantly heard you yelp. “Are you alright?” He asked in concern.

“Yes! Yeah, sorry, I dropped my phone.” He heard you fumble with the phone and breathe out deeply.

“I’m sorry,” Connor began nervously, pulling at his collar as the temperature seemed to increase. “Did I interpret your invitation incorrectly? Because--”

“No! I-- I was asking you out on a date, for sure,” you exclaimed, quick to fix him. “I wasn’t sure if you were comfortable going out with me. But yes! So you can make it?” You grew more excited. “I can buy us the tickets online--”

“I would be pleased to accompany you to the aquarium as your date. As for the tickets, I have just bought them,” Connor replied, his LED flickering as he made the purchase for the aquarium. At your protest, he said, “I insist. I need something to spend on, after all. You can pay for our food and drinks during the date.”

“Connor,” you pointed out, amused, “you don’t eat or drink.”

“Yes,” he agreed, not really understanding why you laughed, but happy to have caused you to nonetheless. “When should we meet?”

“10AM? I’ll pick you up.”

“I’ll send you my address,” Connor responded, feeling thirium rush through his bio-components, imitating what it would feel if adrenaline was coursing through him. “I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”

The warmth in your tone was enough for him to tell you felt the same.

The only thing standing between Connor and meeting you again was Hank, arms crossed. “No,” he said. It was late, and everyone was eager to go home on a Friday night. Connor would have thought Hank would feel the same, but it was apparent he did not. Not today, anyways.

Connor pressed his lips together. “I don’t see why--”

“You can’t show up on a date in your uniform,” Hank said in exasperation, “not even your Cyberlife outfit; it’s too formal for something like going to an aquarium, and it's like bringing your work with you.”

“She had indicated pleasure to seeing me in uniform,” Connor said defensively.

“That’s--” Hank sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s not the point. You can look good in other outfits, Connor. You need to make it a special occasion by… dressing up nice. She’s probably going to do the same for you.”

Connor thought deeply as Hank watched his LED swirl yellow for a few moments until he spotted a certain detective in the distance. The last time he had borrowed Hank’s formal clothing, it had either turned out too gaudy or large. Who could Connor borrow from that was his size (more or less) and was still here?

“Detective Reed,” Connor called out, ignoring the way the man turned to glare at him as his usual greeting. Hoping he was pulling out the best appeasing smile, Connor said, “I was wondering if you would like to go out for a few drinks with me.”

“And why the fuck don’t you have your own clothes, fucking plastic?” Gavin said hours later, watching with an exasperated expression as Connor looked through his closet for ‘date clothes.’ It was a good thing they had met after hours or Gavin would have rather died than talk to Connor civilly let alone offer Connor an opportunity to look in his closet to impress a girl; he pushed down the urge to regurgitate the five shots he had downed in an hour.

Picking up a plain white shirt to accompany a light blue jacket, Connor could only shrug. “I hadn’t thought I would need it,” he said honestly, scanning the closet before settling on khaki colored pants and white shoes that would accompany his top. “I was content on borrowing the lieutenant’s clothes.”

“Maybe your new girlfriend can help you get a goddamn fashion sense,” the other officer groused. Connor could see him rolling his eyes without actually turning around.

Blinking, Connor looked back at Gavin as he gathered the clothes. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

This time Connor did see Gavin roll his eyes. “Sure, tin can. Whatever you say,” he said, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You’re going on a date but you’re not dating, makes sense to me.”

“Thank you for the clothes, Detective,” Connor replied, giving the detective a small, albeit smug smile. “These clothes are shorter than my stature, but I appreciate the gesture nonetheless--”

Connor ducked just in time to dodge the white sneakers that he had requested from Gavin which were exactly his size: a nine-and-a-half.

You rang the doorbell exactly ten minutes before the given time. Not that it mattered much since Connor was ready to go hours ago. He opened the door, watching as your face seemed to light up the moment you saw him. “Sorry,” you said immediately, “I came a little earlier than I thought.”

“Wow, it really has been too long,” you teased, evidently scanning your eyes up and down appreciatively before winking. You laughed when Connor stammered, unsure how to respond to both your flirtatious comment and also to the bombardment of emotions that rammed into him. It was like watching a flower in bloom: was it possible for you to be sweeter than last time you met?

Connor made a motion to welcome her in, and she abided, cheerfully greeting Sumo as he came up to her and sat at her feet. He couldn’t help but watch her in silent awe.

Your dark hair falling down in soft rivulets at your shoulders, it complemented the white top of your dress. Small bouquets of pink and red contrasted with the blue of the bottom half. Considering you topped it off with sandals that made you much shorter than Connor, forcing you to tilt your head up at him, did not help him deal with the fact your presence screamed “cute!” in his face.

It seemed that he had paused for too long of a moment because he hadn’t noticed that your attention had turned to him. “Connor? You okay?” You asked, going on your tip-toes to peer into his face.

“Yes! I’m perfectly fine.” Connor coughed, which made you even more confused, because when did androids need to clear their throats? “I apologize,” he said, “I was taken aback by your appearance. You seem to increase in attractiveness every time we meet.” When you began to blush, he continued with a hint of the same flirtatious tone you had used on him, “I’m afraid that someday you’ll be too stunning for me to look at.”

“Connor, stop!” You giggled, covering a snort that was nothing short of adorable as you objected to his admittedly corny lines. “I should say that to you!” You said, voice warm, “You look really good, honestly. I’m so glad we could go to the aquarium together. It’s been a long time since I last visited.”

Thinking back to the last minute advice Hank had for him, Connor politely stuck out his arm for you to take, pleased when you hooked arms with him without a second thought, smiling brightly. “Shall we go then?”

“I’ll lead the way!”

It was like a world on its own, for the most part. Certainly, neither of you could ignore the crowd that shuffled the two of you down a popular show of whales or sharks. (Connor didn’t mind this; it gave him an opportunity to hold you hands so you wouldn’t get separated from him.) That didn’t stop Connor from glancing over at you ever so often and simply admire the unadulterated emotions on your face. He liked to pinpoint the mole you had on your eyelid (“Almost like a beauty mark,” you told him) and see your eyes widen when a particularly pretty jellyfish floated its way across the glassed containers.

Perhaps it wasn’t a mystery why he thought you looked more attractive. Being able to know you, understanding why you were so fascinated by otters (you liked the fact they held hands in their sleep; Connor glanced down at his own hand that you had never let go) or even knowing why you fussed over buying him a souvenir (because how could you let him pay for everything?). He even liked the way you ate with such enjoyment even though you seemed to hold back because “Connor, come on, I can’t just swallow the entire sandwich whole; we’re in public.”

It was these little quirks about you that made you you that made you so attractive. There could be no one else out there that could be exactly like you, and he knew that he particularly liked every part of that made you unique to him. “You’re similar to this kaleidoscope,” Connor commented when you had gushed over its sea-related designs. When you had laughed, he continued with a smile on his face. “You have many facets, all of which are completely distinct from everyone else,” he said, turning the octoscope for a moment. “No matter how much I turn it, it continues to give me a unique array of color that creates a beautiful work of art that I can never tire of.”

If he noticed the wetness of your eyes or how determined you were to buy this for him, Connor said nothing. He only gripped your hand tighter as the two of you continued down the tiles of the aquarium.

The two of you walked slowly, hand in hand, looking in awe at the abundance of life in each window of the aquarium. Connor stopped for a bit longer at one section, watching the dwarf gourami swim leisurely through the water. When he felt a tug at his hand, he immediately switched his attentions toward you, who had begun to dreamily follow the dimly lit blue lights down the tunnel of water where seals circled around without a care in the world. They stepped down in a dome-like fixture of the seal exhibit, letting a group of tourists by so they had the room to themselves.

It was at this moment Connor felt your attention waver. He watched in mild confusion as your temperature began to warm and your heart beat increased without a change in scenery. “Is there something wrong?” He watched as you climbed up to a higher stair-step, never letting go of his hand, and it was hard for him to hide the immense amount of adoration he held for you when you weren’t turned his way. Even now, as you faced away from him momentarily, he could still see the tinge of red high on your cheeks.

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly, finally standing tall enough that you no longer needed to look up at him. “I just-- I just wanted to be your height for a sec.”

Connor tilted his head, as he always did when confused. “Alright,” he said. “Not that I mind, but I’m growing rather concerned about your rise in temperature; are you sure you--”

“I’m fine, Connor,” you said, laughing, gripping his hands tightly. “I-- um,” you licked your lips, “I just thought it’d be easier for me to kiss you if I was like this.”

You looked at him shyly. Connor could barely feel himself think.

“Is that… okay?” You asked nervously, bunching up your hands in front of you.

Connor opened his mouth, surprisingly dry, and closed it. It wasn’t as if he lacked words to say, but he doubted his voice could function well at all. Instead, emulating the scenarios from rom-com movies Hank fell asleep to, Connor stepped closer to you, noting the way your breath hitched, and lightly held onto your waist.

“That is…” he began, feeling his thirium pump work towards overheating when he saw your eyes dilate as your eyes trailed over his lips. He watched you as if time slowed, your eyes fluttering closed and your face growing closer. “That is more than okay,” he said before your lips pressed against his.

Connor couldn’t describe it. It was difficult to string his thoughts together let alone put his thoughts into words. It was softness, passion, nervous energy, eagerness, and something heated all combined into the kisses you shared with him. You reached up to hold his face closer, and he slid his hands across the fabric of your dress to pull you closer, closer. He was no good at kissing, as it seemed practice actually did make perfect in these cases, but for what mattered, it didn’t seem as you cared, based off the way you breathed heavily and combed through his hair in a way that made him shiver.

When you pulled away, he was delighted and adoring in how your face was flushed in embarrassment as if you weren’t the one to initiate the kiss in the first place. You stammered something Connor couldn’t hear, but he was at least glad that he wasn’t the only who could barely think straight.

“Sorry,” he said, making you look up at him with starry eyes. “I can’t seem to get enough of you.” And he swooped in for another kiss.

Connor’s emotions came in likes waves, pushing and pulling him along without direction. It was overwhelming, the way he felt the need to hold your waist so he could press your body to his but also the desire to simply caress your face and just be. Connor recognized this feeling; he had swam against the current last time, trying to regain control of himself because of the sense of instability. This time was different. He didn’t mind this tidal wave of feelings for you lift him up higher and higher.

You were an ocean that he wanted to drown in.

Connor knew he had a lot to learn about you and about human emotions. Still, in the back of his mind, there part of him that was still drifting along the tide, thinking to himself that perhaps this was the start of his journey of falling in love with you.

#dbh connor #rk800 #rk800/reader #connor/reader #dbh #detroit become human #long post #writing #part 1

24 notes · View notes

orbemnews · 4 years ago

Link

'He's always there': Two decades after the 2001 OSU basketball tragedy, here's the story of Will and Karen Hancock Karen and Will Hancock married in 1996. In 2001, Will was among 10 people who died when an OSU team plane crashed following a game at Colorado. Michael Noble Jr., Tulsa World Bill Haisten: A struggle to process the magnitude of the 2001 Oklahoma State basketball tragedy Andie Hancock: I never met my dad, but I miss him because ‘I do know him’ Video: Remembering the 10 still important to OSU, Boynton STILLWATER — This is the story of Will and Karen. It’s an ongoing love story. Decades ago, two young folks working in a college athletic department bonded over their love of sports, music, movies and each other. The band U2 was a mutual favorite. Early in their courtship, they flew to Kansas City to watch U2 at Arrowhead Stadium. Will and Karen sat down together and feasted on probably the same VHS-worthy 1990s TV series that you did. “Seinfeld.” “Friends.” They named their dog Scully after a character on “The X-Files.” In 1996, Will and Karen were wed at Tulsa’s Will Rogers United Methodist Church. They were concerned before the ceremony. Are we going to ruin a good thing by getting married? They worried for nothing. Married life, said Karen, was “like the best thing ever.” Karen is Karen Hancock. She’s the assistant women’s soccer coach at Oklahoma State University. Will is Will Hancock. He was an assistant sports information director at OSU whose responsibilities included being the media contact for men’s basketball. Twenty years ago — Jan. 27, 2001 — Will was among 10 people who died when an OSU team plane crashed following a game at Colorado. Twenty years later, the love story endures. Love him still? C’mon. You know the answer. “That never goes away,” Karen said. If Karen hears a song by the Beatles or Simon & Garfunkel or the Police or U2, it’s hard not to think of Will. In that moment, the songs bring him “back.” “I still think about him every day on some level — sometimes a little deeper thoughts than others and sometimes just a really fleeting passing thought,” Karen said. “But he’s always there.” This photo was taken on the day Will and Karen Hancock became engaged. Karen Hancock, Courtesy Will also is present in their daughter. Andrea (Andie) was two months old when her father passed. Asked about Andie’s personality, Karen said she’s funny (kind of goofy sometimes) like her dad but also serious — serious enough to record a near-perfect score on the ACT and become a valedictorian and class president at Stillwater High School. Now Andie is a sophomore at Northwestern University. Said Karen: “Every time she does something that reminds me of Will, I will flat out tell her ‘That’s your dad. That just reminds me of your dad.’ I will try to put into words exactly what that is. We have never shied away from speaking about him. It doesn’t ever feel like it’s too sad to talk about. I think it’s important to still talk about him. He was very real.” Karen saw an almost instant change in Will after Andie was born. She said Will was a workaholic who was driven by responsibility and duty. After Andie’s birth, he worked harder to get home faster. Karen knows Will would be busting with pride over Andie’s accomplishments. “He would have loved that she decided to be a journalism major,” Karen said. “He would have loved to know she got into Northwestern. He would have loved everything about her. He did love everything about her. He just thought she was the coolest thing. He couldn’t wait to get home to see that little tiny baby. And this was before she could even really smile. The week he died, he was convinced on that Wednesday that she had smiled at him. I’m like, ‘No babe. That’s gas. She can’t actually smile yet.’ But he was adamant. ‘No. She smiled at me. That was not gas. That was intentional.’” Let’s score it as a smile. “I just knew. It felt different …” The first chapter of the Will and Karen story was scripted in 1992. Karen (then Horstman) was a graduate assistant coach at Arkansas-Little Rock. She went to grab the mail in an area where athletic department staffers were crammed into a temporary work space. There he was: New guy — new cute guy. Karen picked up the mail and, eventually, picked up the male. “New guy” was Will, the university’s freshly hired sports information director. Will and Karen met formally at a university mixer. She tried to strike up a chat by asking about the shirt he was wearing. The chat went nowhere because Will was nervous and didn’t know what to say. Will and Karen Hancock posed for a photo during a ski trip in the 1990s. Karen Hancock, Courtesy Because Will had to be present at soccer games, there were additional opportunities to interact. One of those occasions, Karen said she “blatantly” put it out there that her birthday was approaching. Will took the bait and said they should do something to celebrate. Her birthday came on a game day. The plan: She would get cleaned up after the game and Will was going to call. She waited. And waited. And waited. The phone never rang. Support Local Journalism Your subscription makes our reporting possible. featured_button_text Upset, Karen spotted Will the next day and yelled at him from across a gym. “Hey, thanks for calling me last night.” Will sprinted over and pleaded his case. He said he called and no one answered. He rattled off the phone number he called. It was one digit shy of being correct. Hmmm. He was granted a second chance and they went on a first date a few days later. Karen discovered that Will had many appealing qualities. He was funny and smart as a whip and kind in his dealings with people. One month into dating, she told people he was the one. “I just knew,” she said. “It felt different than anything I had felt in my whole life.” Then came an obstacle: Eager to climb the career ladder, Karen took a coaching job at South Alabama, which meant she and Will would be in a long distance relationship. She figured it wouldn’t be all that problematic. They had to pick their spots to see each other anyway because their jobs kept them busy. They vowed to talk on the phone daily (which they did) and travel to visit each other once a month. The commute got longer when Will departed Arkansas-Little Rock to take a job with the Midwestern Collegiate Conference in Indianapolis. Karen started the South Alabama job in June of 1994. By January, after soccer season had ended, she was asking herself this: What have I done? She wasn’t happy with “just” the job. This wasn’t as great as being around Will. One month later, they were engaged. Funny story about that: Karen had been advised she should attend a Mardi Gras ball while living in Mobile, Ala. Will said he couldn’t go because he was in the midst of basketball season (hectic season). Fine. Karen told him she would go with a male workout buddy instead. She and the workout buddy (“kind of a bodybuilder”) were just friends. Upon hearing about this development, Will got motivated to free up his schedule and escort Karen to the ball. He proposed in her apartment — he in a tux, she in a sequined gown — prior to the event. OK, now what? We’re still living in different states — and the engagement lasted 18 months. Karen, a Tulsan, moved back to her home state in 1996. She couldn’t pass up an opportunity to become the first head soccer coach in OSU history. After Karen and Will got married in June of 1996, they zipped off to a Sandals resort in Jamaica for a honeymoon and then returned to cities that were 700 miles apart. At the wedding, people advised the newlyweds they should live in the same place. Tulsa’s Jamie Hemphill honors the 10 victims during a moment of silence at halftime of the Colorado-Oklahoma State basketball game on Jan. 26, 2002. J. PAT CARTER, AP file Will was hoping for a career opportunity in Stillwater. He was ready to tend bar or do something else out of his field, if necessary. A position on OSU’s sports information staff opened a few months after the wedding. Will had a stellar resume and a vocal supporter within the athletic department. He came home. ‘I wasn’t going to have to do it by myself’ Things are never exactly the same following a tragedy. But Karen was asked when she knew it would be OK. She said there are different levels of that. “Part of me feels like I’m not sure I started feeling really, really OK until about 15 years after,” she said. “That’s a long time. But … at some level I knew within that (first) year it was probably going to be OK. I just had such great support and was starting to figure out people were going to be around to help me and I wasn’t going to have to do it by myself.” Chief among supporters were Karen’s parents, Steve and Linda Horstman. Karen said her father managed a Firestone store in Tulsa for 30 years. He retired a few months before the plane crash. Said Karen: “He came to me and said, ‘Listen, your mom and I are not married to Tulsa. We can easily move over here and help you. Would you like that?’ And I just broke down crying and said ‘yes.’ I didn’t know a whole lot, but I knew that sounded like a good idea. I was going to take that help.” Steve and Linda relocated to Stillwater so they could assist in raising Andie. Karen could go to work and know she was leaving her daughter in good hands. Remember the Arkansas-Little Rock coach who sacrificed personal life for career gain by moving to South Alabama? Karen did the opposite after the crash. She transitioned from head coach to assistant because (A) it created an opportunity for fellow staffer Colin Carmichael to become a head coach and (B) the move allowed her to devote more time to Andie. Karen recalled being stressed about something work-related when she was still head coach. That spilled over to home life. Once, after Karen used harsh words, little Andie (maybe 6 at the time) looked up at her and said “Mama are you mad at me?” Karen assured Andie that she wasn’t mad at her. The “Remember the 10” memorial is located inside Gallagher-Iba Arena. Devin Lawrence Wilber, For the Tulsa World “But it was a real check for me, like I’ve got to get this under control because we can’t be raising a kid like that,” Karen said. In hindsight, Karen said stepping aside was probably the best thing she could have done for Andie, at least while continuing to work. Andie turned out fine. A budding writer, she wrote a story about her father to go along with this one. On the night Will died, it dawned on Karen that she was a widow at age 32. It didn’t compute. That’s not how life is supposed to work. There’s a memorial in Colorado dedicated to the memory of those who perished in the plane crash. When Karen is in the Denver area for recruiting or other reasons, she makes a side trip to visit the memorial. Karen said she has tried to support others who have endured tragedies, but the only thing you can do is offer an ear or share bits of personal experiences. You can’t give people what they really want, which is to have a loved one back. Karen, who consented to an interview in advance of the 20th anniversary of the crash, was asked what message she wanted to share with people. She said she is just one person who experienced a significant loss at a young age. She said there are people who haven’t had to face a loss like that — and it’s great that they haven’t. But she wants people who encounter loss to know it’s survivable and you can be OK. Karen recounted a past conversation with Janet Griffith, who was in her 60s at the time of the chat and who had lost a husband some 40 years earlier. Karen knew right away, from seeing and hearing Griffith talk about her loss, that “it” never really goes away. “And I think when you really do love somebody like that, it doesn’t go away. You stop loving them just because they died? Not really.” 20 years ago: Remembering the 10 victims of the 2001 OSU plane crash 2001 OSU plane crash On Jan. 27, 2001, a twin-engine plane carrying 10 men associated with the Oklahoma State men’s basketball program crashed near Strasburg, Colorado. All 10 died. This memorial is located inside Gallagher-Iba Arena. TYLER DRABEK/For the Tulsa World Kendall Durfey 38, OSU radio engineer A native of Hyde Park, N.Y., earned master’s degree in communications at OSU. Went on to be a supervisor for university’s Educational Television Services. Worked on the Eddie Sutton Coach’s Show, among other programs. COURTESY Bjorn Fahlstrom 30, co-pilot Native of Kalmar, Sweden served in the Swedish Navy and was once a professional tennis player. Came to Oklahoma City in 1996 to learn to fly and he had been piloting corporate jets. COURTESY Will Hancock 31, media relations coordinator As the coordinator of athletic media relations, he had overseen men’s basketball since October 1996. He had recently become a father when daughter Andie was born on Nov. 16. Father is Bill Hancock, the executive director of the College Football Playoff. His wife, Karen, was head coach of the OSU women’s soccer team. She is now a Cowgirls assistant. COURTESY Daniel Lawson 21, player Junior reserve guard from Detroit played in 17 games during the 2000-01 season. Tulsa World file Brian Luinstra 29, athletic trainer Augusta, Kansas, native had worked for the Oklahoma State men’s basketball team for two years. COURTESY Denver Mills 55, pilot Also a certified public accountant, he was the pilot of the charter flight. Had flown Cowboy athletic teams to events for several years, and his son was attending OSU at the time of the crash. COURTESY Pat Noyes 27, director of basketball operations A 1990 graduate of Mt. Saint Mary’s High School, he was noted for his passion for Oklahoma State basketball. Worked at Georgia State before Eddie Sutton brought him back to Stillwater to work with the basketball program. COURTESY Bill Teegins 48, radio voice of the Cowboys KWTV sports director was in his 10th year as radio play-by-play man for the Oklahoma State radio network. A graduate of Hale High School and University of Tulsa. Native of St. Paul, Minn., he moved to Tulsa at age 12. Had been sports director at KWTV in Oklahoma City since 1987. JIM BECKEL/The Oklahoman Jared Weiberg 22, student manager After joining the team as walk-on player from Tonkawa, he became a second-year student manager. Nephew of former Big 12 commissioner Kevin Weiberg. COURTESY 2001 OSU plane crash OSU coach Eddie Sutton speaks to the crowd during a 2001 memorial service at Gallagher-Iba Arena honoring the 10 who died in a 2001 plane crash. Tulsa World file 2001 OSU plane crash In front of a full house at Gallagher-Iba Arena, the Oklahoma State men’s basketball team joins hands before the start of their game against Missouri on Feb. 5, 2001. It was the first game after the death of 10 in a plane crash following a game in Colorado. JOHN CLANTON/Tulsa World 2001 OSU plane crash Nikki Kimmel (right) and Amanda Beard, then-Oklahoma State University students, embrace after leaving momentos on the Spirit Rider Statue outside the Gallagher-Iba Arena on Jan. 29, 2001, following the deaths of 10 people associated with OSU’s men’s basketball team in a plane crash. JOHN CLANTON/Tulsa World 2001 OSU plane crash Oklahoma State players come together at midcourt to celebrate their victory over Missouri, Monday, Feb. 5, 2001. It was the first game after the death of 10 in a plane crash following a game in Colorado. JOHN CLANTON/Tulsa World 2001 OSU plane crash Fans hoist a sign commemorating the 10 members of the Oklahoma State basketball program that were killed in a plane crash during a game against Texas on Jan. 26, 2011, at Gallagher-Iba Arena in Stillwater. Tulsa World File 2001 OSU plane crash This banner hangs in Gallagher-Iba Arena. Tulsa World File 12 months for just $26 “This is a special ‘editor’ offer at a rate we have not offered before. For just $26, you get unlimited access to everything on tulsaworld.com for a year. Every time you click on a story from social media you will get it without interruption and without surveys. Every story online + the daily e-edition that shows you the pages of the paper that day. Support our local journalists who work for you.” — Tulsa World Editor Jason Collington Subscribe today. Remembering the 10 remains important for Boynton, OSU [email protected] Get local news delivered to your inbox! Source link Orbem News #andie #andiehancock #andreahancock #Basketball #decades #football #full-longform #Hancock #Heres #hes #Karen #karenhancock #lindahorstman #OSU #sport #Steve #Story #tragedy #willhancock #Work

0 notes