#i've been thinking about Stranger mailbox too much
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dyesprout0ysphoria · 10 months ago
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good morning/afternoon/evening! odd question: out of the main omori cast, who do you believe would have a severe peanut allergy??
Oh dang uuuhhh
I've seen this question pop up in others blogs but I didn't expect to also have it,,,
uuuhhh that's actually a pretty hard question for me because I usually don't...think about headcanons all that much?? If that makes any sense? Like I'm usually influenced by popular belief
I mean I could see Aubrey having a severe peanut allergy
but I could also see everyone else also having said peanut allergy
maybe besides Kel and Basil
Sorry if this isn't really a useful answer,,? ^^;
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haecien · 1 year ago
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Fast pace.
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" We're going to that place we shouldn't go "
Synopsis — You're both starting to drift away from each other like pieces of broken wood in the ocean but he's going at a fast pace whilst your left behind.
Paring — Joshua x G/n!Reader
Genre(s) — Angst, He fell first and lost feelings first, You fell last but fell harder, fantasy au
Warnings — Mentions of arguing, like some cursing at the end.
Wc — 770 words 3,942 characters
A/n : This is apart of @caratsland event! Please check out this post to see the other members works !!! also... yeah I couldn't help myself I made it a fantasy au, Its maybe cause I wanna play d&d SO badly but I got no one to play it with HAHA
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So, how does this world work? Since its a fantasy au, of course they're different species. Yeah... this is going to be too long so the details will be at the end! happy reading<333
" You're going too fast baby. " you yelled out to joshua, most of the time it's you who always ran ahead but, he seemed to get out of your sight and was now deep in the forest. Almost completely disappearing.
You felt your wings flutter in excitement whenever you felt his presence, your heart pounding very hard almost feels like its escaping out of your chest. You loved him deeply, and he knew that.
What so who cares if you're both different species? You didn't care, You both knew you loved each other, He says " I Love you, " whenever we see each other in the mornings, he says it proudly too. He doesn't care if others are watching, he will say it loudly and proud.
But, hes walking so quickly. I can't keep up with his pace, the days go by and I feel like i'm losing him, he was always faster than me. I could never catch him anymore, It feels like we used to click so fast but now I'm finding it difficult for you to open up to me.
You walk at a fast pace and I can't meet it. What could I do even if I walked as fast as you? getting further away. I don't know, there's something about you I like a lot. I thought we would work, now we're arguing and making each others faces red, with anger. A year ago, I wouldn't believe that I would have been fighting with you, the one I said I loved.
Weeks of arguing and awkward conversations, did you just have enough of me? Now you never said " I love you, " unless I said it first. You never thought of me unless someone mentioned me, I wonder if you even remember me. I'm starting to think you don't.
You've disappeared, you left our home town. All your friends and family miss you very much, I miss you. The hands we're both holding have no warmth at all, is it time to let each other go. Why now? How come we've let it come to this, Why do we have to hurt like this? It’s no fun. Even when we make plans to meet up in the future I don’t look forward to it,
you sighed as you took out a piece of paper, It's been 3 years since Joshua cut contact with you completely. The jar of ink with your feather sitting beside it waiting for you to start writing you couldn't help but cry a little bit. It hurts how he sends letters to his friends, his family, but not you.
He looks like he has completely moved on while your still stuck on the memories you had together. Yet your still waiting by your mailbox just even a tiny gift from him would make your whole entire year.
It's been three hours since you've started writing, you're finally finished. You wrapped your letter in an envelope, you sticked on a beautiful flower, It was his favorite. He said it reminded it of you, so beautiful and delicate.
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" My dear, Hong Jisoo
I'm writing you this letter because I still need something, anything, from you. I'm waiting for your response. It's been three years, I miss your morning "I Love you," perhaps even an apology. You allegedly tell your pals that you adore me even when I'm not around before stopping one arbitrary night. It appears as though we are now strangers.
How can I win back your favor? I've been wanting to express this in front of you without scaring you away, but how do I make you feel the same as me again? I had hoped that we would remain in love until we were elderly, but you left me far sooner than I had anticipated.
It's strange that it has been more than a year since we last spoke; I wasn't even aware that you would be going away. Even though you've gone on from me, I feel like I've already forgotten what your voice even sounds like because I still think about you every day. How a part of me still loves you is strange.
This entire experience felt real to me even if it wasn't to you. It's strange that even though we haven't spoken in a very long time, I still miss you.
It seems strange that after everything, I can still miss you. "
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You sent this letter to the post office, it's been a week now. You still don't know if he ever got your letter, who knows? He never replied.
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You're set in a place called "Καράτι" (I used Google translate so if any1 speaks Greek im sorry!!) Which means "Carat"
This place is home to many creatures a like, you have your common fairies, dragons, elves, dwarfs, and all those types!
Well ofcourse humans still exists but, eh fuck them they're not important here!
We will be focusing on 3 major species
Fairies, Dragons and Elves.
Who are the fairies in the story? :
Reader, Wonwoo, Minghao, Dino
Who are the dragons in the story?:
Mingyu, Vernon, Seungkwan, Woozi
Who are the elves in the story?:
Hoshi, Joshua, Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Dokyeom
General taglist: @woozvc
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jacklynchh · 2 months ago
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Wildflowers & Honey • Self-Para
Spring, 2018.
"What's that?"
"It's a beehive!"
There was a moment of silence in which Jack set down his coffee, trying to decide whether or not to question it. Grace offered no further explanation and just continued hauling boxes of unfamiliar equipment through the door, humming happily to herself.
"When you said you were going to pick up a few things, I thought you meant groceries," he said finally, deciding to get ahead of… whatever this was.
She grinned at him.
"I got groceries too."
It was a thing she did. He should be used to it by now, really. Grace would hear about some new hobby or craft and for the next few months it became Her Thing. Sometimes they stuck, knitting and pottery were particular favourites, but most of the time after a while she'd get bored and move on to the next. It was the reason they had a closet full of basket weaving materials that hadn't been touched in two years.
"Okay," Jack said, and then, "Should I ask?"
"Well, Heather from pilates was telling me about this amazing local group that runs all these courses on self-sufficience. You know like growing your own produce, animal care, foraging, and-"
"Beekeeping," he finished with a sigh.
"Exactly! And I figured we already grow our own stuff, and since we don't have enough space for a chicken coop, then this is the next best thing." She straightened up and dusted her hands off. "I thought it could be a cool thing to do together, you know? And think how great it would be to be able to make our own honey. You could sell it at the market with everything else."
She joined him by the kitchen island, swiping his unguarded mug to take a sip. There was a twinkle of joy in her eyes and she looked so pleased with herself that any half formed protests he had died on Jack's lips.
"Do we have to get a license or something?"
"There's a register and a small fee, but it's only like ten dollars."
"And the course?"
"We can afford it."
Another heavy sigh and he gave in. "Fine, but if I get stung you're never gonna hear the end of it."
"I think I can live with that," she said, smiling as she leaned into his side.
Present day.
There was a swarm hanging from his mailbox. Not the most helpful thing in the world, considering Jack had come out to see if anything had been delivered yet. A gentle buzzing noise filled the air and a few lone rangers were flying haphazardly above the main cluster, looking for places to land. The bees seemed relatively calm, so he just stood there for a moment debating what to do.
The sight of them had sparked a memory he hadn't thought about in years; Grace coming home and declaring them soon-to-be beekeepers. She'd been so excited about it at the time. He remembered wondering whether it was something they'd end up sticking to or give up on two classes in—they'd never had a chance to find out. Her diagnosis had come in only a couple of weeks after she'd signed them up.
He still had the hive though. It was sitting in the potting shed, hidden behind a pile of old tools and a wheelbarrow, alongside a whole collection of other seemingly vital beekeeper's equipment that he didn't know all that much about using.
It would be stupid to dig it out now, wouldn't it? Pointless. He should just call someone to come and get them, be done with it. That would be the sensible thing to do.
But they'd chosen to stop here. And his garden was full of pollinator plants. And he could see Grace's fucking smile-
Fifteen minutes later, he had his phone lodged between his shoulder and his ear as he tugged the hive out from its hiding box. It was still in relatively good condition, all things considered.
"Yeah, yeah, I've got frames too. Everything, I think. How soon can you be here?"
Only in Blue Harbor could he have found a qualified beekeeper not fifteen minutes away totally willing to help a complete stranger catch an absconded swarm. He hung up, proceeding to pull out one of the old suits stored away with everything else, feeling ridiculous as he climbed into it. It was insane, wasn't it? To see your dead wife in a swarm of fucking bees and, what, decide to keep them because of that?
And yet here he was. Oh well. He'd done it now. Might as well just accept his fate.
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captainhearteyepierce · 6 months ago
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hey guys did you know that Scott Street by Phoebe Bridgers is actually about post-war Hawkeye Pierce in Crabapple Cove trying to reconnect with Trapper. hear me out:
Walking Scott Street feeling like a stranger With an open heart, open container
So Hawkeye's back in Crabapple Cove, wanting desperately for his life to go back to normal now that the war is over. He's going for a walk through the familiar streets, bringing a drink along to ease his nerves, but the time he's been away is an almost tangible thing and the familiar place feels off now.
I've got a stack of mail and a tall can It's a shower beer, it's a payment plan
Maybe Hawkeye stops at the mailbox during his walk. Collecting his mail from the mailbox is such a mundane thing, a true sign that his life is in fact "back to normal", but despite this he still feels wrong, out of place. He turns again to drinking as a coping mechanism, just as he did in Korea. Even drinking in the shower. (Not good, Hawkeye!)
There's helicopters over my head Every night when I go to bed
This is perhaps my favourite line because of how fitting it is, and it is actually the line that planted this whole analysis in my head in the first place. Hawkeye is haunted by the war - hearing phantom choppers at night, unable to sleep thinking about the horrors he experienced in Korea. He's struggling to slip back into his old life, plagued by the effects of PTSD.
Spending money and I earned it When I'm lonely, that's when I'll burn it
Remember the episode where Hawk and the other surgeons complained about their pay, comparing it to doctors back home with cushy private practices who were making fortunes, and Hawk even tried to bill the army for $38,000 as compensation? Since Hawkeye's return to the states, he's been able to pick up his old job, now making the amount of money he believes he deserves, not to mention he's not performing meatball surgery under fire anymore - but he finds the money doesn't matter to him anymore, it doesn't mean anything. He's been too changed by the war, aged beyond his years and traumatized, and it makes him feel so alone and alienated from the world.
Do you feel ashamed When you hear my name?
His loneliness gets him thinking about his old friend Trapper. Trapper who carelessly left him without so much as a goodbye, never even writing a goddamn letter. Does he feel any remorse for what he did? Hawkeye wonders. Suddenly, all he wants is to try to reconnect with Trapper, fixating on getting back what they had at the beginning of the war.
(This is definitely some sort of coping mechanism of Hawkeye's, an attempt to bury the loneliness and to cease the sounds of war in his head.)
I asked you, "How is your sister? I heard she got her degree" And I said, "That makes me feel old" You said, "What does that make me?" I asked you, "How is playing drums?" You said, "It's too much shit to carry" "And what about the band?" You said, "They're all getting married"
This whole verse I've grouped together because it's not the individual lines that apply but rather the sentiment of the whole thing.
So Trapper comes to visit Hawkeye in Maine and they spend time talking, catching up, but it's clear that their time away from each other - Hawkeye in horrible Korea and Trapper cozy at home - has changed them and their relationship. Just like with Crabapple Cove, things feel different to Hawkeye, and the casual tone Trapper takes with it all in opposition to the sort of dread it leaves Hawkeye with leads me to this next line:
Do you feel ashamed When you hear my name?
This time, Hawkeye is repeating this in his head whilst talking to Trapper. As Trapper sits there talking about everything and nothing, Hawkeye wonders, Do you feel any remorse for what you did? Leaving me behind the way you did without so much as a goodbye? Looking into Trapper's eyes, Hawkeye thinks not. Trapper meant so much to him, and it hurt Hawkeye so much when he left, but here he sits, pretending nothing happened, like he didn't just leave Hawkeye in the dust.
The instrumental part that follows I like to think of as a sort of sad realization tinged with nostalgia, that yes, things have changed. The train and the bicycle bell are the comforting sounds of home, and yes, he's finally home! But you can't erase the things he's seen and done. This three year war has aged him a decade. The Crabapple Cove of his childhood is like a jigsaw puzzle that's missing one piece, and Hawkeye is that piece, except it's been stepped on and bent and creased and although it completes the puzzle, it doesn't quite fit anymore.
Anyway, don't be a stranger
(And finally, the line that makes me sob like a baby whenever I listen to this song, in any context!)
To me, this is sort of a continuation of the sad acceptance represented by the instrumentals, except as opposed to being centred around Hawkeye's home, it's more about Trapper. As they part ways once again, Hawkeye contemplates starting something, bringing up the elephant in the room, but he's done with anger, tired of fighting. He's had enough. So he resolves to accept the distance between him and his old friend and move on, with the hope that they will one day see each other again, maybe when the open wound that the war left has healed into a sort of jagged scar.
Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk, hopefully it made a bit of sense as I sometimes am not very good at putting my thoughts into the right words, and I hope you enjoyed the angst! In all honesty I can't tell if post-war Hawkeye would actually decide to start something with Trapper or not about him leaving without a goodbye and not writing a single letter. I feel like Korea Hawkeye would for sure, because Korea Hawkeye was under so much stress and was angry at everyone for the war and it wouldn't take much for him to lash out about something, but we never get to see how Hawkeye is outside such tense circumstances so I'm not too sure. That being said, I really think the man would be too tired and strung out by the war to bother picking a fight and would just let it be.
All that being said, I really hope Hawkeye and Trapper are actually together somewhere drinking martinis and causing mischief because the thought of them not getting along drives me up the wall insane!!
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madaboutmunson · 10 months ago
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Let me hear you speaking just for me - Part A
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This was a pretty long chapter so I've split it in two just for ease of reading :)
I Think I Could Have Been Someone - Chapter 7a
Ao3 Link
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Link to fic overview and all parts
Chapter Summary: Eddie gets the chance to interview Steve for his book.
Author Notes: This is a mature story, definitely 18+ only.
Tags/Warnings: rockstar!AU; band; touring; music industry; alternate universe; drug usage; alcohol abuse; performing; enemies to lovers; road trip; stobin; platonic stobin; platonic with a capital P;
Word Count: 5.9K ----------------------------------------------------------------------------
He'd thought about it. Digging his heels in again. Demanding to fly commercial. So that he wouldn't end up trapped on there with Harrington and whatever set of groupies he was going to use for in-flight entertainment. But Marney had said he was willing to give the entire flight time to Eddie's project. 
Eddie had been collecting candids and quotes and diary entries for years now from bands that only played their local bar to multi-platinum artists. His hypothesis was this. Money can buy luxury, and it can make things easier. It can push people to succeed or keep pushing on, but nothing moves a musician more than the music itself. All he had to do was gather the evidence, lay it out nicely, and boom! Perfect coffee table book. Though he loathed Harrington, he wasn't stupid. His fans would buy Eddie's book simply for the exclusive shots and interviews. And Harrington had just given him a whole hour, no questions asked, apparently. Maybe it was another masked apology for their meeting?
Like his therapist has said to him repeatedly, he didn't have to forgive him, but if he could find a way to let go of all this anger towards a stranger, he could find a little more peace. The world was a tough enough place as it is.
After all, how much should Eddie be allowed to hate the guy if he doesn't even know what he did? And after the last two weeks, Eddie has been wondering how much control Harrington has over the asteroid bombardment that happens to things pulled into his orbit.
A day after their meeting, a grainy picture of himself leaving Harrington's house, hilariously labelled him as a mystery woman, had started making the rounds online. Some fans of his must have worked it out because a few days later, he started getting notifications from his old Munson Photography account, thousands of them asking the same thing. Was he finally going to work with Harrington? As the messages started to pour in, the fear that curled around his spine had almost induced waking nightmare recollections of his life falling apart around him. He didn't respond to any of them, but that didn't stop the barrage. If anything, it amplified the situation. Groups of people, girls mainly, positioned around his usual daily haunts. The studio, the coffee shop, the local bar, the laundromat, occasionally surreptitiously, one would snap a photo of him with their phone. He'd just repeat the amount of money he was going to get paid over and over in his head. He'd even had his bins and mailbox rifled through. Soon, they had him tracked all over, and he was extremely glad all his socials were already set to private. Requests appearing on his other social media profiles were all declined. He decided that if this project went well, we'd start up a new public account and dump all the Harrington in dribs and drabs and, hopefully, future stuff there, too.
Eddie wasn't sure if it was because he'd gotten laid recently, if he was excited to get back to doing what he loved, or if it was because he had a golden opportunity, but whatever it was, he wasn't feeling so concerned.
The driver had picked him up from the hotel, which was only a ten-minute walk away, but he supposed someone might have had a few questions if he had just strolled out onto the tarmac here. He'd been ushered to the plane immediately, which was odd because he could still see the pool of photographers waiting in their strategically placed pens. A few snapped at him as he boarded, which was pretty unnerving as he definitely preferred being on the other side of the camera. Luckily, Marney had advised him as such, and he'd taken a little more care of his appearance this morning. He turned down the idea of sunglasses this early in the morning, though they had been recommended.
Once inside, he'd realise Harrington wasn't early because he wasn't on the plane. So Eddie takes the opportunity to unpack his camera and head back down the stairs to the runway. He hides behind the staircase to avoid invading the other photographers' shots. He had access they didn't, but he didn't want to be a complete asshole about it. He said he'd be here on the hour, so Eddie sits on the Tarmac anticipating at least an extra thirty-minute wait, but much to his surprise, Harrington is on time with his team but bereft of groupies.
He steps out of the blacked-out windowed vehicle, again in the typical rockstar clothing you'd expect. Tight leather look pants, a sheer shirt and a knee-length jacket with faux fur trim topped off with swathes of accessories and a black set of wayfarers. Obviously, the specific items are slightly different, but Eddie wonders if it's almost like a uniform.  A dark alter-ego of the all-American blue-collar guy who just happened to be good at playing the guitar, he portrayed on stage, on album covers, and inside exclusive magazine articles. Despite the predictability of his outfit, his behaviour is surprising. He opens the door, and someone from another car rushes over to him, then to the photographers and then back to Harrington, who nods, and the rapid shutter sounds ride the breeze around them. 
Harrington shields himself at first, almost like he's trying to make a secret escape to the plane. Then, once at the foot of the stairs, he turns back, gets back into the car, re-emerges with a big smile, slow walk, and waves for the photographers, even stopping to pause and pose for a few shots as they shout his name repeatedly. The man is methodical. It makes Eddie wonder if any of the harassed-looking pictures he'd seen of Harrington were real at all.
Eddie takes a few shots from this angle. It might be cool for a reader to have the photographers in the frame for a change and then quickly rushes back up the stairs to capture him getting on the plane.
Once in position, Eddie feels a little strange, a twinge of guilt. Shouldn't he let the guy get settled on the plane before taking his picture? But on the other hand, he did have Harrington's permission to snap whatever he wanted. A flicker of humanising Harrington almost has him stand up out of his crouched position, but people are already boarding around him by that time. Buckley gives him a nod as she starts going over her extra checks. Harrington spots him in the aisle, and a half-smile pinches at his cheek.
"Hi," he says almost too quietly to be heard over the plane's noise and everyone else bustling around.
Eddie raises his eyes from behind the viewfinder, mirrors his smile, "Morning, Mr. Harrington".
"How do you want me?" He asks, gesturing around.
"Uh, just pretend I'm not here," Eddie replies, not tearing his eyes from the camera this time.
"Sure, I'll try my best." Harrington oddly responds and smiles a little wider, and soon enough, everyone is moving around like Eddie isn't even there. He finds a space tucked in between two back-to-back club seats so people can truly go about their business, but not a few minutes in, Harrington disappears through a curtained-off area. Eddie can see everyone settling into their seats, so he finds the nearest empty one and sits down, too. 
He'd been on two private jets before one was owned collectively by a band, and the other was chartered by an artist when they first hit the big time. This was something else. Fully rotating and reclining plush seats, a meeting or dining table area, screens everywhere, and everything in whites and occasional thin stripes of pastel or chrome. For such clinical colours, it’s still quite soothing and fresh. 
Everyone falls into their small groups on the plane, security in one section, PR in another, and some hair and makeup on standby. 
Eddie quickly packs up his camera and tucks it away safely with the rest of his gear. This not being a commercial flight meant you didn’t have to wait for another hundred people to get going, and he’d been biding his time until one of the crew came past and reminded him kindly as they passed him an envelope.
Eddie rolls his eyes. It’s Harrington-branded stationery. Of course, it is. Apparently, a simple Post-it or lined paper would be too far beneath the guy. 
Marney’s voice rings in his head. “Don’t fuck this up for us, Ed. Just try and enjoy this for what it is. A holiday to Vegas where occasionally you have to take some pictures, work your editing magic and come home an almost millionaire!”
He takes a deep breath to reset, closes his eyes, counts to ten, and relaxes. He looks at the envelope again. He tries to imagine it's not pretentious, just a little cute thing.
It’s a pale blue-grey, excellent quality feel paper. The border is embossed silver with a little guitar motif in one corner and a Unidyne-style microphone in the other. His name was penned in black ink in the centre. He opens it up and takes out the card.
See you in the sky.
He huffs, puts it back in its envelope and tucks it away in his hip pocket. Eddie puts on his belt as instructed and uses take-off to channel his frustration.
Eddie is not a nervous flier, but he digs his fingers into the arms of the chair and shuts his eyes all the same. Not for nerves, though, just to power through. He thinks about the money and how this wasn’t so hard. In fact, it was easy. It benefited him way more than Harrington. He’d get some general insights and team them with some exclusive shots, and the fans would throw their money at his project, even if Harrington was only a tiny section of it. He’d witnessed how they operated with other such media. When he had a cameo on a TV show or was part of a charity campaign, it was consumed by them to the point of assimilation, and once they’d bled it dry of him, he’d be in something or appearing somewhere else. It was a very smooth operation of drip-feeding fans, and he’d been doing it for years. 
He could disappear creatively for a year or two at a time. Didn’t have to offer up a song or tour, just be in the vicinity of a camera. The next thing you know, he’s everywhere again, people playing his old songs, or he’d show up for an appeal and be involved in a comedy skit once a charity target was met or get invited to an awards show. Eddie’s fingers grip tighter into the armrests. He’s so annoyed he knows so much about him, how he’s been haunted by him for so long.
Eddie desperately tries to channel peaceloving-remember-your-processes-Eddie, but unfortunately, he’s been shoved into a closet and locked in by bitter-venomous-Eddie, who whispers conspiracy and gorges on Eddie’s hate and anger.
This guy was a piece of work. Who does this kind of shit? He’s already agreed to the in-flight interview. He doesn’t need to send a fucking reminder. 
He feels the bile rise in him again as he thinks about Harrington’s smug face as he signed the back of the note. He grips the arms of the seat harder as the plane is still in ascent. 
He forces his mind out of its cesspool of hate, which honestly had a greased-up water slide down into it when it came to people like Harrington. He thinks about times and people when he has purposefully had patience. He even thinks about how they left their last meeting. Harrington should have apologised, but Eddie knew guys like him didn’t hand those out. It was beneath them to fully admit fault. And yet he had tried to excuse his behaviour, and Eddie had forgiven him in the moment. That helps him relax a little. Then, the idea comes to him.
Harrington is just a screaming child at one of his family portrait shoots. They only wanna do what they wanna do but will give a little, providing the bait is sufficient. This much had been proven. Once Eddie accepted the job, Harrington said yes to whatever he’d asked for. Maybe he’ll behave himself if Eddie is sweeter, less businesslike. He didn’t seem to like that Wheeler guy and clearly enjoys being fawned over. Eddie isn’t sure he could go that far, but he could play a softer role. After all, the more Harrington let him in, the more exclusive content his book had. And the more exclusive content in that one section, the more money it would make for Eddie.
His shoulders finally fully relax, and a small smile graces his face as the thought of potentially being completely set for life floods his mind. No more scrimping and scraping by. No more dingy apartments. No more sad little lonely life. He was finally going to be happy, and all he had to do was get through two weeks of occasionally snapping pictures. The rest of the time, he could hang out in his room, say he was editing or something, but just watch movies and luxuriate in whatever fancy hotel Harrington was happy to stay in.
As Eddie levels out, so does the plane. He opens his eyes back into a new patient version of himself, and the seat belt light blinks off.
“Mr Harrington will see you now, Mr Munson,” is said to him gently by one of the prettiest members of cabin crew he’s ever seen. Then he realises he knows him. It’s the guy from the airport hotel. Of course, Eddie would choose to have a one-night stand with a man who just happened to be one of Harrington’s selected crew!
“Oh…uh…hi,” Eddie says awkwardly, and the guy smiles back at him a little bashfully, “I didn’t know you worked for Harrington.”
“Yeah, well, I didn't at the time,” he smiles. Eddie quickly praises the heavens for name tags. Jesse. He looks at the floor and pretends to neaten up some things next to Eddie’s seat, “Not that you asked about my job, or much else for that matter,” the guy lets out a giggle and then presses his lips together, “Come along now, let’s not keep Mr Harrington waiting,” he beckons Eddie to follow him through to the next compartment of the plane. Eddie quickly gathers his equipment bags and follows him down the plane.
Eddie is close to sweating. This was awkward. He’d said he’d call the guy, but he didn’t. Just thought it would be what it was, and that’s it. But now… Jesus Christ… Now, he is wiggling down the aisle in front of him in a uniform that is so snug it leaves little to the imagination. Eddie thought the polo shirt hugging his chest was tempting enough, but this crisp white shirt was something else. He’s pretty confident he saw the outline of a nipple, but now all he can see is that sweet ass being hugged by the navy blue material of his suit trousers. He doesn’t remember much of this guy in the ways of conversation, but he does recall a few non-spoken things they both enjoyed. Eddie almost shudders pleasantly at the notion they might end up in the same hotel as one another and maybe… No! No way! You already mistreated him once , he reprimands himself. He’s not a plaything. He’s a person. So you either ask him out properly, or you forget this. And he is not about to date someone who works for Harrington.
Eddie can’t decide if the wave of horniness that just washed over him was better or worse than being angry. The answer to that comes very swiftly as they move through to where Harrington is.
Everything gets dimmer and darker, to such a degree that Eddie actually tears his eyes away from ogling the attendant in front of him.
The previous light interior is a world away from the private plane interior of Eddie’s teenage dreams that is laid out before him now. Everything is either black, charcoal, or dark wood trim. There is a small black loveseat sitting area to his left, deep like Chesterfields, and to his right, a big bar. Then, looking ahead, two big black executive club seats face one another against the window. He can see Harrington slumped in one, gazing out the window. But real distraction is behind him. A large bed already made up with velvet cushions, fur-looking throws, and the shimmer of silk or satin sheets underneath, all in black.
Eddie is way past teenage awkwardness, but this mixture of happenings might prove to be a little much for him as his eyes trail back over the attendant, who suddenly stops and turns around to give him an easy smile.
“You’re so lucky, Eddie,” Jesse whispers. Oh, Jesus Christ, he remembers his name. Eddie’s innards drop to a new level of cringing, “Not many people get to spend the whole flight with him, and never a man. He must be so excited to work with you. To sit and talk the whole flight?” 
Jesse brushes down Eddie's clothes to neaten them up, like one of the proud parents at his photoshoots, before they send in the kids for their portrait. “The girls say he usually doesn’t spend much of his flights talking to anyone, normally preoccupied with some groupie, you know?” 
Eddie’s eyes dart to the bed in the corner and then settle back on Jesse’s lips as he talks. He is trying to listen, but it is so difficult to concentrate, not when he’s talking about this, not when it’s this guy in his scandalously tight, unblemished uniform that Eddie can’t seem to stop thinking about ruining. “It’s hardly ever been a guy, let alone a gay guy. So I guess what I’m saying, Eddie is,” he gets a light poke in the chest, and he manages to lift his eyes to Jesse’s, “Don’t fuck this up for us, ok. He’s a very loud ally, considering his mostly conservative fan base. He’s helping,” Jesse’s eyes search his, and Eddie is starting to feel like maybe he doesn’t need to speak to Harrington at all. Perhaps he could get stuck in a bathroom, and Jesse would have to help him out or something. Jesus Christ, Eddie, keep it together. It’s just a cute guy.
“I’ll see you out there,” Jesse winks and moves to the side to barely let Eddie squeeze past, which he doesn’t mind in any way at all when Jesse’s hands guide his hips through the space, one of those said hands then give him a pat on the butt as he makes it past. Eddie sure hopes there is some kind of arctic-level AC he can blast himself with to cool down. Otherwise, a layer will have to go because it is so hot right now.
Eddie dons his family portrait pleasant persona. He puts his friendliest smile on and strolls over to what must be his seat with a cheerful pep in his step.
“Mr Harrington?” Eddie calls out and gives a neighbourly wave.
“Less of the Mr, thanks. Makes me feel all business-y” Harrington smirks and beckons him over with two fingers. He doesn’t get out of his seat or even sit up straight. There is a slight wiggle of adjustment, but that is all.
Eddie sits down in his seat, smile still perfectly in place, for no one to see because Harrington hasn’t even looked at him yet. He’s staring out the window. A little weirded out, Eddie resolves to unpack his camera, dictaphone, notepad and pen onto the small table.
He glances over at Harrington again, who appears quite frankly bored as he looks out of the window, “So am I ok to start recording and set up the camera to frame you so that we can talk and I can randomly snap whenever?” Eddie asks, and that finally gets his attention.
“Sure, sounds good,” Harrington answers unbothered, looking out the window as Eddie sets up the equipment. During setup, his eyes met Jesse’s a few times, and he sent a wink or a quick pout in return, honestly turning him into a giggling middle schooler. Eddie doesn’t remember him being this obviously flirty last time. Maybe for the average person, this might be a bit too obvious or too much, but after all this time, Eddie needed that.
“What do you make of all this so far?” Harrington’s drowsy vocal fry reminds him why he’s here, and he feels almost like he’s caught with his pants down.
“Uh, it’s nice. I mean, it’s great, honestly,” he answers, still making some final adjustments to the tripod with his back to Harrington. However, his eyes still occasionally trail over parts of Jesse he could catch a glimpse of, “Yeah, very nice indeed,” he says absentmindedly.
Eddie rounds the tripod, fixes the camera in place, adjusts for the lighting and takes a test shot, but when he looks at the screen again, Harrington is gone.
“Let me see that one,” Harrington demands and Eddie snaps his head around to find himself at eye level with Harrington’s double-buckled belt. He casts his eyes up and backs up, pressing the button to show the last picture, and Harrington leans down to take a look.
Backed against the side of his seat, Harrington leaning into his space, teamed with the surprise of having a very sexy flight attendant nearby, Eddie's heart pounds fiercely in his chest. He wants to take a much deeper breath, but Harrington is so close he’d hear if he hadn’t already.
Harrington hums happily, “Fuck, you are good at what you do, aren’t you?” He chuckles as he straightens up and backs out of Eddie’s space.
Eddie tries to pull his professional self back to the controls, “You’d hope so, wouldn’t you?” He says with what he hopes is a charming laugh.
Harrington, already relaxed in his seat, smiles up at Eddie for the first time, “I guess I already knew that, though, didn’t I?” He swirls the ice cube around in the tumbler, delicately hanging from where his fingers grip the rim of it. He taps one of his many rings against the glass a few times.
Eddie watches a curtain fly open behind Harrington’s seat. Jesse appears again, seems to take a deep breath, and composes himself neatening his clothes and hair before walking over to them, “Mr Harrington,” Jesse says like he’s absolutely delighted and hasn’t seen him in years, “How may I servi- uh, help?”
Eddie bites his lips together to stifle his laugh at Jesse’s probably Freudian slip. Even though it is absolutely killing him not to poke fun, but he’s not an asshole. He’ll tease him about it later, maybe over text or, better than that, in person.
He hears the leather of the chair as Harrington shifts against it, and that causes him to raise his head to find him holding Jesse’s name tag on his fingertips, “Well, Jesse. Some drinks would be fantastic if you wouldn’t mind.” Eddie watches Jesse’s eyelashes flutter at Harrington and amusedly realises he’s not the only person trying to keep it together on this plane.
“Yes, sir. Right away, what can I get you?” Jesse says eagerly.
“Hmmm. Why don’t you surprise us, huh? I’m sure your taste is excellent,” Harrington lazily smiles up at him, and Eddie doesn’t miss the flush at Jesse’s jaw’s hinge. He turns on his heel and heads toward the bar, leaving Eddie and Harrington alone again, “He’s new.” Harrington’s voice pulls Eddie out of his daze, staring at Jesse’s body as he goes.
“What?” Eddie accidentally blurts out.
Harrington laughs and points a finger over his shoulder without looking back, keeping his eyes on Eddie, “The Jock. He’s new, so bear with him. He’ll get a handle on things in no time at all, I’m sure.”
It’s confusing to Eddie why anyone inexperienced would be allowed anywhere near Harrington as he watches Jesse fumble with a few things at the bar, “This his first flight? Working on your jet, I mean.” Eddie asks.
Harrington takes the last sip from his current glass and puts it down, “Doubtful, I’ve had him up here a few times. Maybe it’s you making him nervous?”
“Wh-why would I make him nervous?” Eddie tries to ask like it's the weirdest thing in the world, and it only makes Harrington chuckle.
“Or maybe it's the other way around?” he hums, raising an eyebrow and looking out the window.
Eager to get off this topic of conversation, Eddie changes the subject, “Nah. So I thought, you’ve given me this whole flight, but I’d rather get the most out of it. I’ve been told most people don't get this opportunity, so I do not want to squander it. So if I just reel off some topics I’d like to ask questions about, and if any are a no-go-”
“Eddie,” Steve rasps his name and turns to look him in the eyes, “You can ask me anything you want. I have nothing to hide,” he says, and Eddie probably thinks that's true. He’s probably answered every question someone could think of by now. 
“Alright,” Eddie flicks through his notebook and glances back up at Harrington again, and he thinks maybe he looks better, not as exhausted, eyes not like saucers. He kind of looks like he might be human today. His eyes flick back to his notebook. He decides to start with the required questions for his book and then see where they go. As long as he has this answer, he has the quote for the page, “So how about how you got into music?”
Harrington doesn’t reply just looks at Eddie and then at the table between them. Eddie figures he hasn’t heard him and leans forward to repeat the question louder over the plane noise.
Harrington smiles and leans forward, too, which almost sends Eddie reeling back in his seat. Instead, he stays still, feels the heat of Harrington entering his space, and regrettably gets a waft of some fantastic cologne he’s wearing. Something leathery, smoky and warm, such a heady concoction that Eddie almost closes his eyes to enjoy it fully. But Harrington’s eyes urge his to follow them down to the table, where he reaches out and taps the dictaphone to record.
Eddie laughs nervously, “Oh, yeah. Thanks.” That nervousness from their first meeting rises in him again. He can’t mess this up. He doesn't want to impress Harrington per se, of course not, but he wouldn’t mind a stamp of approval to show all the other people who worship the ground he walks on so he can get more business and his life back.
“You mean this career or music in general?” Steve asks, tilting his head slightly as he slumps back in his seat, hand dangling between his spread legs. Eddie presses the button on the remote for the camera. The shutter sound goes off, but Harrington doesn't flinch.
“Let's start with this career and circle back, maybe?” Eddie says, tapping his pen on his pad, “I know you were successful in modelling and then made a move to music, but from your perspective, how did that come about?”
“You’ve done your homework on me, I see,” Steve smirks and Eddie kinda hates it. Still, something about doing this for his own project, his book, doesn't make him hate it quite as much, “Well, I was walking a red carpet for some awards event that I had nothing to do with, some film thing, don't remember,” he says blasé, “And someone was asking everyone what their secret talent was. I said I didn’t have one, that none of my talents were a secret,” he laughs at his own joke, “but the interviewer was pretty hot, and she pressed me a little, and I mentioned I played guitar.” He looks wistfully out the window, “She did a lot more than press me later.”
Eddie can’t imagine what it's like to be this guy. Does he just sleep with every woman he takes a shine to? Or is it all of the women he meets? He wonders how many have turned him down. 
Eddie's gaze flicks to Jesse, who is finalising the drinks by garnishing him, and he’s thinking about if he’d get to engage in a press of his own later.
“Thirsty, Eddie?” Harrington asks with a straight face, “You’re welcome to anything you want, you know. Anything you can see, just help yourself, or ask our buddy, Jesse James, to get it for you. I’m sure he’d happily be of… service,” on that last word, Eddie sees something interesting, a smile of mischief maybe spreads across Harrington’s face. It’s then he realises Harrington hadn’t missed Jesse’s faux pax earlier at all and had been polite enough to overlook it. Eddie’s face breaks into a grin and a small laugh. He doesn’t want to laugh with Harrington, but he’s been keeping his amusement about it under wraps for so long now he can’t help himself.
“Here you go, gentlemen. Two old fashioneds,” Jesse says proudly and gently sets down the drinks. Eddie does not miss Jesse's sultry look when he bends down to place his tumbler beside him. Oh, he was going to find him later, that's for sure. He picked these drinks on purpose. Eddie looks down at his drink and notices the distinct lack of cherries and just the orange peel set in there. Jesse remembered.
As Jesse goes to leave, Harrington reaches out and taps him on the arm, “Is Mr Munson not permitted a little fruit with his drink, like I am?” He smiles up at Jesse, and Eddie watches Jesse full-on stall. Jesse loosens his collar a little with his finger, but his eyes stay locked with Harrington, and Eddie watches his lips press together as he swallows hard. Eddie feels his brow crease with annoyance as the realisation washes over him.
Jesse’s hot for Harrington! 
The pep talk from earlier had nothing to do with Eddie being a rep for the gay community and everything to do with Jesse wanting not to be associated with a terrible flight for Harrington.
It’s not jealousy, he feels. It's something else as he looks between himself and Harrington. It’s alarm. They were nothing alike. Sure, they both had tattoos and were a little on the thinner side, but that’s not enough for a type, is it? But that was about it…they dressed somewhat similarly, but Steve was all designer. Other than that, nothing…except that they both had brown eyes and long lashes and…
No. No way. He was nothing like Harrington! His internal argument rages on whilst his face wears a slight frown and a smile.
If anything, Jesse was a variation of a younger Harrington before the lifestyle got him. Eddie screws up his face at acknowledging that, then looks between them nervously.
No. He doesn’t even like Harrington. That was dumb. His brain is just getting scrambled because he’s thinking about Jesse from two weeks ago. That was all. 
“It’s actually fine. I don’t like the cherries anyway,” Eddie forces a smile over at them.
“Well,” Harrington looks surprised at Eddie, then beams at Jesse, “How about that? Must be your lucky day.”
Eddie watches Jesse steady himself on the side of Harrington’s seat, “It sure is!” Jesse replies with the biggest dopey grin on his face. Harrington looks happily back at him expectantly until the penny drops of Jesse, “Right, yeah. I’ll just be over there if you want me- need anything, I mean,” he quickly corrects himself and leaves them again. Eddie’s eyes wantonly trail after him as he does.
“I can put in a good word for you if you want?” Harrington’s voice disrupts Eddie’s thoughts.
“Ah, sorry, no. It’s-“ Eddie stumbles over his words in a fluster, “I think he’s more into you, from what I can see,” Eddie adds, eager to shift the spotlight back to Harrington.
“You think?” Harrington says, settling back in his seat, “Sweet.” He adds with a smile and turns back to the window.
“Wait, doesn’t that bother you?”
“Why would it bother me?”
“Uh, because you’re a straight guy, and he is clearly not. Most straight guys don’t like that.”
“Well, maybe I’m not like most straight guys, you know? Or maybe, as arrogant as it sounds, I’m just used to a whole spectrum of people having a thing for me?” Steve swirls his drink before sipping some, “It’s nice to be liked, you know?”
Hearing Harrington own his arrogance felt a little strange to Eddie. He’d half expected him to make some derogatory remark or for him to just brush it off. Ever curious, Eddie wonders if he could poke at that a little. Harrington did say he had nothing to hide and he could ask him anything.
“Do you often feel disliked?” Eddie asks very cautiously.
“More often than you’d think,” Harrington answers somberly, eyes still observing the skies, “But that’s just the price of all this, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, can’t please everyone, I guess,” Eddie adds, still curious but daren't pry deeper as he wasn’t after a chat show sob piece here. His comment gets Harrington to turn toward him with a patented half smile.
“No. You can’t. Even though it’s magically expected of you,”
“What do you mean?”
“Once you hit this level of being in the public eye, being allowed to err, to be human is taken away. You made a wise choice at the beginning, keeping private and off-socials, that I couldn’t,” 
If not for his curiosity at this seemingly more vulnerable side of Harrington, he might be tempted to snap the air at him. Tell him exactly why he is off socials, and it has nothing to do with being wise and everything to do with his insane horde of fans. 
Eddie can’t resist what a tasty morsel this might be for his book, Harrington and the Price of Fame. However, it feels sneaky, so he gestures to the dictaphone, “We’re still recording, you know,”
“I know,” Harrington says as his eyes cast to the floor and then back up to meet Eddie’s eyes, “Is this not the kind of thing you wanted for your book? Insight, exclusives, a tortured artist?” Harrington asks, looking away again, and Eddie feels a glimmer of pity for him. This must be his day-to-day, figuring out what people want from him and providing it so he can continue living this lifestyle. Eddie offers him another pass.
“Well, that's not the purpose of my book, and it is thoughtful of you to offer that up, but I’d rather it was just your truth, no agenda on my part. I mean, apart from one question, I need to know the answer to.”
Harrington looks him up and down, takes a deep breath, leans forward in his seat, drink in hand, elbows on his knees, “What question is that then?” he asks gently, which strikes Eddie as unusual.
“What does music mean to you?” Eddie answers pleasantly but watches Steve’s soft expression fall to something pained momentarily before his smile returns.
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Songs that inspired this chapter:
Stripped - Depeche Mode Come as you are - Nirvana
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stardustedknuckles · 2 years ago
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So I woke up to the power out. No storm. No indication of a fried squirrel. I sent a very carefully worded text to my dad who lost his job last month asking if the utilities had gone through, and seemed like they had. With no computer to work on and nothing to shield my ears from the sounds of the cats self administering their morning baths with gusto, I decided to go for a walk.
Now. I'm of the belief that there's nothing wrong with leaving the door unlocked for ten minutes to walk around the block. My father, who believes every stranger is a potential threat, drilled it into me early on in our move here that the front door needs to be locked on every walk, no matter how short (unless it's to the mailbox). He has a doorbell camera, so he knows if I don't. Whatever. I lock the door. I don't have to bring my keys (which was the biggest reason I left the door unlocked) since he got a keypad for the garage door. I can come back in that way and have for about three years.
Well. Those require power.
I pulled the front door shut behind me this morning and immediately cringed. My heat intolerant ass was outside, legs already feeling weak, without a wallet, morning vitamins, water, or food, and no knowledge whether the QT a mile away would take tap to pay on my phone (which I had to set up as soon as I got to the park, and thank the gods my cashapp card has an app function that lets you see its information so I COULD set up tap to pay).
I've busted the door open at my mom's with a credit card a few times and figured I could probably do it our front door, if I only got a card. It was 8 in the morning though, and I wasn't sure who was up.
(On the way to the park I passed a lady getting into her car with a giant dog. On the way back, I saw her front door was open about a foot and two cats were outside. I stopped and called out into the house. No response. I knocked, called again. Nobody home. The cats went inside. I shut her door. I really hope those were her cats.)
My nosy neighbor was out and about to leave, and though it would cost me friendly grilling about my life, my dad's life, and any potential lives that might intersect with ours, I thought she might have a credit card she didn't care about. She at least had a dog, which I got to pet while she explained she doesn't carry any cards she doesn't use and she doesn't give her information to credit card companies because big data is coming for us all.
She's not entirely wrong, but the faded trump/pence bumper sticker on her truck had my visibly queer ass nodding a bit more enthusiastically than I might otherwise.
When I finally extricated myself from her (no, I'm still not interested in essential oils, I have allergies to them, thank you for thinking of me, uh-huh, you too!) I checked the mail. I've been home alone Monday through Friday for weeks since dad got a new job and took the car, and I'm not very good at keeping up with the mail, so I hoped to find one of those fake cards they send you in hopes you'll call and get a real one. No dice. I was proud of myself for that idea and everything.
By then, we were hitting the low seventies and the morning mist was dissipating. The sun wasn't fully out yet, but it was unmistakably warmer, and me in my pants with an antihistamine in me from yesterday (they cause greater heat intolerance). There was a man loading his truck a couple driveways down. Never met him before, but I'd seen him. I approached, gave him my name, and sheepishly relayed the morning to him. Thankfully everyone else's power was out too, so I didn't sound too much like I was asking for him to aid and abet a break-in.
He agreed to help but wanted to be the one to do it - as in, "I'll walk with you" and didn't want my paws on his card. He gave the front door a really good try, but privately I still feel like he gave up before he could get it. Still, I was grateful for him ruining a card trying to help me and we tried the shittier door that led to the inside of the garage. Deadbolted. Goddammit dad.
Fast forward to him showing me a trick on the sliding glass door with a screwdriver - we had built up something of a friendly bond through adversity by then, though I never did get his name - which didn't work but reminded me that even though I'm really careful to lock windows (no cracks for spiders to get in that way) I might have left the kitchen window unlocked from when I opened it for my cat. We both tried using the bricks of the house to hop up and see if the latch was shut before we would try prying off the screen.
The latch was shut, and as I dropped back defeated onto the cracked concrete slab that could and had been very generously described by realtors as a patio, hot and starting to sweat, I put my hands on my hips and squinted up into the yellow porch light. And in a very rare DC 10 perception check, I REALIZED what I was seeing.
I must've made a noise, because neighbor guy looked to me with a little confusion. I pointed. He looked, tipped his head, processed. His whole face cleared. He wasn't the sort to laugh easy - gruff, built like an electric foreman, which is to say like my stepfather - but he shook his head with a little smile and made sure I could get in the garage before pushing up the bill of his cap with a finger and wandering off back to his day with his screwdriver.
My day hasn't even started yet. The email my dad (2.5 hours away) forwarded me before my walk estimated it would be four hours before the power came back. I knew it wouldn't take that many, but I didn't dare hope it would only take two. I told my supervisor then that I would keep her updated and I've still got two hours before that time hits. I spent half of one writing this, and I'm going to take ten more to eat something, and then I'll hop online and get busy.
But man. What a morning.
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afiksasi · 3 months ago
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︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎
The thing about me is that I've never been so good when it comes to saying hello, waving my hands to stranger, sitting down beside a random classmate or introducing myself from the very beginning of my life to spitting one or two facts about myself. However. I will try and put an extra effort on this one. I've always wanted someone to know me better within a first glance anyway.
So, greetings, my name is Rune. 4w5, Melancholic-Sanguine, and an INFP. (Thought I'd share that small bit) (I'm also a pansexual). Sadly I don't have any particular made up online last name—not that I can think of—so I suppose you may just call me by Rune. You may even craft any similar words, if you're creative enough. My close friends still call me by my previous name, strangers I meet online calls me by Rune, my classmates doesn't really use my name anymore, while my significant other would call me by sayang and all 3 names I go by. Though name, I think, is quite unimportant right now. We'll figure that out later.
You can refer me by any pronouns, I don't mind. Won't mind. Whether it's a he, a she, a they. Anything. Do refer me however you want.
I'd love to speak of my interest in great detail but I suppose my mouth will left to dry and my fingers will turn sore if I ever do. The mind of mine (and heart!) sought its joy in many, many, different things all at once. Though my greatest form of happiness comes from literature, been adoring this since I was so young, since I can barely remember. I often find myself stuck inside a loop of reading slump, let myself understimulated from books, words, and vocabularies. But I assure you—literature remains inside my gut, for as long as I breathe. You may not see me holding a book, or infecting myself with any literature works, but my heart beats solely for the writers and the readers out there.
The following picture is a collage of what I would say my all time favorite works. Doesn't mean I only keep four titles when somebody asks me what my favorite book is. No. Quite the contrary, I have so many titles I wish I could include, to speak of many different writers and works all at once. It would be a sin to not speak of hundreds of titles I read and only mention so few of them, so please, be my guest and check my Fable account instead to see which book took my liking. Should I mention my top genres are horror, mystery, classics, or anything depressing. Really. (I watch any forms of horror, too! Mostly analog horror if I'm in the mood)
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More often than not, I caught myself smiling, or crying, screaming, giggling, and pondering over a music. It is a very common saying to speak of music as a catharsis. But the fact is that it is true. Music does become a catharsis to me, to at least find a fragment of myself and my surrounding and my lover and my cats and my cooking behind a song lyric that might even not written to fit the condition I am in right now.
And more often than not, I caught myself doing such things to: Adrianne Lenker, Gigi Perez, Bôa, Agnes Obel, Mian Tiara, BIBI, Beabadoobee, Foreign Fields, Amber Run, Mitski, Jean Sibelius, Wisp, Boygenius, Sufjan Stevens, Other Lives, Gregory Alan Isakov, Buck-Tick, HYDE, and honestly so much more. I think my genre preference in music varies from A to Z.
(I am also a fan of Criminal Minds, might be good to slip this in)
Anyway, before ending this awfully written introduction, I'd like to refrain myself from interacting with people who seems to have the traits as follow: ZIONIST, ABLEIST, LGBTQ-PHOBIC, MLM AND WLW FETISHIZERS, minors under 15 years old, RACIST. Please don't talk to me if you're one of the aforementioned.
The way I see it is that this seems enough. To let people know, to let people notice. Within a glance, perhaps no. But within a single sip of hello. Think of this as a playful letter sent by one your farthest pen pal. You may send yours back towards the mailbox, or simply let it wither inside your drawer.
Yours, R.
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happyselves · 3 years ago
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Wine { Daniel Ricciardo x reader one shot }
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You were invited to a garden party, one of your neighbours was throwing one for the launch of his wine or something, you heard of it before receiving the invite in your mailbox. Weird cause you didn't really known anyone here since you just got here and that neighbour, he was never here but you know from his house that he was rich as fuck.
Anyways you weren't planning on going but free food convinced you, but what to wear now ... to a garden party ? At 7pm ... who does that ? He must be an arrogant prick. You were torn between a sexy dress or a chill outfit ... and you end up with a combination of both, a sexy top and a chill pants . You didn't forget your purse and took your keys, do you really want to drive there ? Well no you were living next door but you did make the walk barefoot cause you didn't want to have sore feet already.
You arrived at your destination and entered the huge house and gave your invitation to a security guy, he did look at you with questioning eyes cause first you still weren't wearing your shoes and secondly you weren't really the type of guest this reception was expecting. What the fuck were you doing here plus more you were actually looking more you didn't see any other neighbour that you recognize.( you didn't know them personal but you always greet them when you see them )
Your shoes back on you start to look around, pretty decoration, very aesthetic and very chic but simple, a bit like yours but you could see some helmets and paintings of cars ? Super cars like the one being driven on circuit ... Formula 1 it was called ... ohhh that would explain a lot about your neighbour ... he must be a F1 driver then. The curiosity was growing inside of you, you knew Lewis Hamilton from this sport, you mean ... knowing is a big word, you've heard his name and saw a picture of him from one of your friends somewhere. If all the drivers were as handsome as Hamilton then your neighbour was getting interesting. What was his name again dammit.
You found the food and took some, not too much to not sound like a bizarre person, you were already underdressed and you were alone, that does look suspect. Socializing wasn't really your forte but some of the guests came to talk to you, they were wearing chill outfits like yours, you felt relief in your heart, like a big weight lifting up, those you will stick to them all evening that was decided. They were his friend to that mysterious guy that you only remember the first letter D. So the friends of D were making you feel at home and asking you random stuff not pressuring you but making you feel so comfortable, so maybe D will not be a prick after all if his friends are this nice. One of his friends, Scott, directed you towards the true star of the party .... THE WINE !!
As soon as you tested it your taste buds went into paradise, the sweet texture, the raspberry taste that was prominent, you liked it right away and wanted to have more. During the whole evening you end up maybe drinking more than you should have and food wasn't making it better. You weren't drunk like a crazy drunk. You just felt more relaxed and laughed with D' friends until you excused yourself because you wanted some water and there was none in the living room. Scott points at you in the direction of the kitchen and tells him you will be back in a sec. His friends were so nice and it felt like you've always known them, they have the same vibe as you and you were already planning on seeing them again this week.
What was strange is that after all this time you still haven't seen the host of the evening, you thought he was speaking with everyone but you would have met by now, you were with his friend after all.
In your thought, the glass of wine in your hand you didn't see the tall person in front of you as you entered the kitchen and kinda crashed into him, the glass of wine ruining his cream pullover. Fuck ... you watch the red spot trying to clean it but you made it worse.
You : Oh I'm so sorry I was in my thoughts, my lord come down here.
You close your fist on his pull and bring him towards the sink without even looking at him or asking him if it was okay. The dude just follows you without complaining, you turn the water, get the closest thing you could get to help and clean it. You were so focused on the spot that you didn't notice he had put his hands on your arms, very warm hands and his chest was firm.
You : Nah take it off I won't be able to take the wine off on you.
Stranger : It's okay really
You hear his voice for the first time and what a voice, sweet like honey but deep as well, from what you could pick from it, he feels amused. You finally look up to see your interlocutor's face and you stay shocked at his, you couldn't react, you froze literally and your cheek went red ... he was handsome and you had way too many glasses of alcohol to behave like a normal being without being embarrassing. Trying your best to put some composure on you but of course he noticed it.
Stranger : We should introduce each other before you take off my clothes, don't you think ? He joked
You throw your name so quickly which made him giggle.
Stranger : Hi nice to meet I'm Daniel
He tried to shake your hand and that's where it hit you, Daniel !! Your neighbour Daniel, the host, the one with the wine !!! You were freaking out in your head but shook his hand
You : Oh I see, I was wondering where the host of the evening was, but I see hiding in the kitchen.
Dan : And I was wondering where the neighbour that my friend kept talking about was and invited me.
You were feeling the alcohol in you taking the place and you knew that the next phrase coming out of you will be out of character.
You : Well if I knew that you were this handsome and hiding here I would have come get water much sooner.
It was his turn to feel shy and scratch his hand, looking away from you he cleared his throat.
Dan : Well I know that's kinda impolite of me to not be with my guest but I've been on the phone all evening, it wasn't planned at all. I'm sorry, am I a bad neighbour ?
You : Don't apologize and you don't have to explain yourself, you are a busy man after all from what I saw. But not to sound too neat freak, your pull over might be ruined. I should be the one apologizing for that.
Dan : Oh it's okay it's not like it was my only clothes.
And with that he took it off, finally you whispered in your head, or by the face he just made you think it was in your head. Damnit ... again not in your head freaking wine
Dan : Ah I see you liked the wine ? I will give you some bottles then, free of charge in the house cause I'm a terrible host.
You both went silent, it wasn't awkward but he was curious about you and why you were looking at his chest like that ... he was wearing a white tee shirt underneath, not like he was naked.
For you it was the layered gold necklaces that threw you off, you loved men wearing jeweled jewelry especially because you had a thing for neck, large neck and god damn that an F1 driver had to have a large neck. You snapped out of it, almost feeling dizzy.
You : Wooo I'm sorry I zoned out ... I think it's the wine, I'm not a bad drinker but the raspberry touch in was my favorite.
You didn't notice you were getting closer to him, like night butterflies attracted to light, your hands were moving on their own, putting the wet tissue you had in one of your hands since you started cleaning his shirt, on the counter and bringing it to his necklaces playing with it. Daniel didn't move, he couldn't. It was like a flash of lightning was striking him down on his feet. He was looking at you helplessly, catching the counter with his hand to keep you both balanced cause he felt like his legs were about to give him up at this instant. That were he takes the time to admire you, how beautiful you were with that sunset lightning hitting you
from the window. His secondhand automatically pushed away the hair that was stopping him to look at your pretty face.
You : I don't know what's happening, you breath out
He heard you thought
Dan : I don't know either but it's not like I want to stop.
You lock eyes with each other and in a last movement you close your fingers against his necklaces, bringing him closer to you, collapsing your lips together, the taste of wine was intoxicating. He responds to your kiss instantly, slowly catching your lips and making you forget every kiss you had before him. You both were in sync, kissing slowly but deeply that it was sloppy. His hands were now on your hip, not letting you go and you were glad anyway cause you just couldn't have enough of this man. The romantic kiss turns to a more ferocious one, bringing teeth and tongue to the party. He was making you moan at every chance he gets cause it was already obsessed with the sound that was leaving your body. You were soon out of breath and had to make your lungs full of oxygens again so you were the first to break the kiss not without having him complaining with a groan.
Your eyes still close, you take a huge amount of air.
You : That was ...
You didn't had the time to finish
Dan : Unexpected
You both : but so good
You both opened your eyes at the same time, they were different from earlier, dark and full of lust for each other.
After a little while catching your breath you were both fighting the urge to kiss again but control yourself.
Dan : Well I'm so glad my friend invited you, they said I needed to know my neighbours, I thought they would invite everyone but I guess they only saw you.
You : Well I'm glad to have forced myself to come even if I didn't want to.
You both laughed and his hands joined yours on the counter, first caressing your skin before intertwining your fingers.
Dan : So do you think it would be impolite of me to just tell everyone to leave ?
That picked the curiosity in you
You : Perhaps yes, since you didn't even show up but I might have an idea.
Dan : I'm listening ...
You : You could simply eclipse yourself by the back door with a couple of wine bottles and I join you outside so we can go to my place and finish whatever is going on between us right now.
Dan : Ouuhhh I dig that plan a lot.
He quickly catch oyu lips before leaving them again
Dan : Meet you outside at 5 ?
You : Yes
You find your best lie to excuse yourself from Daniel's friends, telling them that the wine was getting into your head and that you needed to go home, it wasn't technically a lie though. Of course they ask you if you needed someone to come with you until you're home safe but you reassure them that it was only 200meters away and they let you go.
You felt like a teenager again, meeting Daniel outside of his own house, ruining as quick as you could to go back to your house and spend the most scandalous night you ever experienced with a man.
Masterlist
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wasabito · 4 years ago
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had so much fun writing for my baby boy tendou, so here’s my entry for the hqhq sfw server collab! be sure to check out the rest on the masterlist found here! enjoy ✨
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words: 3.0k
prompt: “you woke me up at 3am for this?”
synopsis: your neighbor is ridiculous, kind of annoying and little bit on the weird side, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.
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You had to be the biggest idiot on the planet—an obvious exaggeration, yes, but you were still inclined to believe it was true. 
How else could you explain the feeling of being so utterly fed up with one’s actions like this? Were there enough words in the dictionary to describe just how exhausted you were by your own antics, more specifically, your forgetfulness since that’s what had landed you in a world of pain and embarrassment?
The answer was no.
You sat with your back pressed against your front door, head in your hands and chin tucked between your raised knees and chest. At your side was your wallet along with stacks of newspapers, coupons and whatever else had been stuffed in your mailbox, bills probably. Advertisements too. Honestly, it was hard to be happy about a new restaurant opening up down the block when you were currently stuck—locked out of your apartment to be precise.
The landlord of your cheap little complex wasn’t expected to be back for another hour according to the sign posted outside of his office. So until then, you’d remain posted up by your doorstep like some loiterer. 
You shifted in place and blew a puff of air from your lips, feeling little pinpricks in your legs. For the fifth time in the last forty-five minutes you felt like kicking yourself, hard.
The sun hung low, nearly touching the distant horizon signifying the end of another day. Even the sky was painted a warm umber, casting dim shadows.
“Locked out, huh?” came a snide, but accented voice.
It took you way longer than necessary to realize that suddenly you weren’t the only person on this floor. God, where was your head at?
A pair of forest green crocs stood before you, complete with a few odd charms and trinkets. A cartoon volleyball, pinned next to a smiley face, a donut and a gaudy “i heart paris” chain dangling from the ankle strap. A person’s shoes could say a lot about who they were...your mother thought so, at least.
Resisting the urge to projectile vomit all over this stranger’s rather questionable taste in footwear, your wary gaze panned upward, glossing over white tube socks and a pair of the longest legs you’ve ever seen on a person—yet another exaggeration. You came face to face with a crooked smile. Curious ruby eyes returned your stare with almost the same amount of scrutiny.
Who the hell was this guy?
Mystery-man easily towered over you, and not only because you were hunched over and sitting. He was tall as hell, all lanky build, gangly arms and legs disguising lithe muscle and a surprisingly sturdy frame. He looked like the i-run-every-morning type; semi-athletic at the very least. His buzzed hair was the color of cinnamon, no that wasn’t right, paprika maybe? Either way, it contrasted sharply with the paleness of his skin, so much so that you could see the faint blue of the veins in his arms.
“Yoohooo, anybody hooome?” He tilted his head at you.
“Huh? Oh uh, yeah, I’m locked out. I forgot my key inside and Mr. Laurent won’t be back until later.”
“Hmm. That sucks...”
“...Um… do I… do I know you or something? You look a little familiar.”
He pinned you with a funny look, before pulling out a set of keys from the back pocket of his shorts.
“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t~ I mean we are neighbors, after all.” Laughing as if he’d made some sort of joke, he entered his apartment with a twirl and a dramatic wave of his arms.
You stared at his door for a solid minute, only to finally succumb to your urges and facepalm at your own idiocy. Of course he looked familiar, how could he not when he literally lived four feet away.
With a sigh of resignation, you braced yourself for another hour spent sitting outside your front door. It wasn’t like there was any other place you could go or anyone you could call. The battery icon on your phone blinked red, warning that it was soon to run out of juice. Guess that meant no Among Us or Subway Surfer for you.
Five minutes later, the door next to you opened. It was Mystery-man again, but this time, he sat in front of his door, just like you were. And he did so with a bag of pretzels and a jar of nutella in hand.
“Must be bored out here by yourself.” He crunched on a pretzel before offering you the bag to take some. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep ya company.”
You weren’t sure why, but there was something about this guy that intrigued you. You half-wondered if it was the funny little curl of his smile, or the wideness of his eyes that made it seem like he was looking at all of you, all at once. 
"You must be pretty bored...uh,"
"Satori Tendou, but most people call me Tendou. Miracle boy works just fine too."
"Right... Tendou, as I was saying, you must be incredibly bored to come sit out here with me. You sure you don't have anything important to do?"
Tendou's grinned widened. "Positive! And it costs me nothing to be neighborly, so don't even sweat it."
That was...nice of him?
If sitting outside with you was the way he wanted to spend his late Tuesday afternoon who were you to deny him? And truthfully, you didn't mind the company, at least not really. Provided this guy wasn't some creepy-stalker-weirdo, you were sure there wasn't any harm in getting to know the person who lived one door over.
"So, Tendou, how long have you lived in the area? You don't really look like you're from around here...I could be wrong."
Tendou raised a thin brow at you. "Weeeell, if you're asking about how long I've lived next door, it would be about three maybe four months give or take, but if you're asking how long I've lived in Paris, it would be a year next month. Speaking of, I think Semisemi has a birthday coming up..."
You watched as he pulled out his cell phone and tapped away at the illuminated glass screen. You couldn't help but notice the goofy little anime stickers on his phone case. One in particular caught your attention.
“Is that...Kirara? From Inuyasha??”
“Oho! So, you recognize this?”
Backtracking, you mumble out, “Ah, well…only a little.” Though your face was turned away, the tiny smile on your lips was not hidden from Tendou and he thought you were pretty cute.
Funnily enough, what you had expected to be a rather unnerving and possibly creepy exchange turned out to be anything but. Tendou was incredibly fun to talk to—a bit teasing and a little overwhelming with his superfluous hand movements and gestures. But he was funny and a lot kinder that you would’ve given him credit for.
You learned that he was originally from Japan; it explained his accented French. He had come to Paris right out of high school to study culinary arts in one of the most renowned countries for it. Now he worked as a chocolatier, under the tutelage of a master patisserie in the city, an older man who was both a creative genius and a thorn in Tendou’s side. Tendou spoke of his teacher with equal parts awe and annoyance. 
And he got to know you too. How you’d found yourself in Paris, thousands of miles away from home in an effort to rediscover yourself in the city full of rich history and culture. 
You didn’t have many friends here, and it truly was a pleasure to make his acquaintance.
Soon, you both heard the telltale sound of jangling keys as your landlord rounded the corner with his clipboard in hand. Once you were able to get your door open, you waved a goodbye to Tendou.
“Thanks for keeping me company, you really didn’t have to.”
“No biggie, it was fun!” He threw a mischievous little grin and a peace-sign over his shoulder and reentered his apartment. 
You found yourself wanting to cross paths with him again, and hopefully in better circumstances. But you hadn't known your wishful thinking was soon to manifest as you ambled through grocery store aisles a week later, eyeing down any items with pictures on it.
“Why in the hell is this toilet paper so expensive.” You mumbled.
“So, you complain about the price of toilet paper, but wear sneakers that cost two-thirds our rent.” That voice sounded familiar, and after hearing it for about an hour just days ago, you were a bit surprised you could recognize it so quickly. 
Stunned, you looked up to find Satori Tendou, your quirky neighbor with an arm full of pita chips, a milk carton, and baby carrots.
“I never said I made the best choices.” You found yourself smiling despite the previous crease in your brow. “...Dude, get a cart before you drop everything.”
Instead of getting his own, he simply dumped what he had into your cart with a teasing grin. You couldn’t argue with his logic there. Tendou sidled up against you, once again towering over you with a kind of ease that should be criminal. “Need help reading something?”
You wanted to say no. You almost said no. But swallowing your pride, you gave a weak nod. “Yeah, this word right here.” Pointing to the unfamiliar script printed on the label. “What the heck is this?”
“Weeeeell, looks like that brand is scented, ya know, for when ya—”
“Don’t bother finishing that sentence...please.”
You quickly grab what you need and continue on down the aisle with Tendou following closely behind.
Just like when you’d first met him, he made conversation the entire way. By the time you both made it to the cash registers, you’d argued at least three times over french pronunciations and whether cashews were the cousin of peanuts.
And just as last time, he left you with a grin and a peace-sign while you stared after his retreating back, paid groceries in hand.
After an entire day spent baking, you found yourself on Tendou’s doorstep with a tupperware full of baked goodies later the next evening. You had been meaning to thank him for being such a good neighbor to you. It was certainly unexpected, but a welcome gesture nonetheless.
You only had to knock twice before the door was wrenched open and you were greeted with the set of...vanilla? Some pop song played in the background while your neighbor looked at you curiously.
"H-Hey Tendou, I um...I baked you these." You held out the plastic container, hoping he'd simply take it from you without question and you could return to your apartment without somehow embarrassing yourself. "There's a little bit of everything in there, oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, macadamia nut—wait you aren't allergic to anything, right?"
"Nooope! Not a thing, thanks neighbor!"
"It was no problem, especially since you've helped me, not once but twice now."
Frowning, you couldn't help but be a little upset with yourself. You'd come to France to prove that you could, in fact, live a normal life outside of your family’s jurisdiction but day by day you were proving to need them more and more. 
It was disappointing, to say the least.
"Hmm, what’s with the constipated look on your face. Did the toilet paper not help?” Tendou tilted his head at you with a teasing grin, lips curled at the edges, taunting. You blinked up at him, surprised, and if you were honest, a little annoyed too. 
"Hah?!"
"Just thought it was worth a mention, nighty-night~!"
Tendou proceeded to shut the door on you; one hand rested on the frame and the other held on to the cookies. You quickly took a step back lest he chop your entire arm off, ready to trudge off in the direction of your own home but not before sticking your tongue out at him.
Stupid Tendou, always saying stupid shit. 
You were on the couch, half asleep when it dawned on you that it had been his own twisted, “Tendou” way of cheering you up. 
The rest of the month passed just like that. Occasionally, you would bump into Tendou at the grocery store, or the leasing office, or even the laundromat. And every single time, he’d either make you laugh until your sides hurt or annoyed enough to want to give him a friendly punch. At one point, you two had even exchanged phone numbers, because according to Tendou “it was ridiculous not to have your friends on speedial” which only led to hours spent on Facetime or playing iMessage games.
You knew exchanging numbers would come back to bite you in the ass, it was only a matter of when.
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It was clear you weren’t going to any sleep tonight, that was for sure. The incessant buzzing of your cell phone every five minutes was an enemy to your circadian rhythm. You could name on one hand those in your contacts with enough sense to know that you lived in a completely different time zone from them now.
Somehow your neighbor was the very last person you suspected, but it was his contact photo that stared back at you, goofy looking grin and all. You squinted against the brightness of your screen in your otherwise dark bedroom.
you up?
come quick
gotta show ya somethin
come oooon
you're awake, i know you are
It took you less than a minute to shuffle on a pair of slippers, grab your keys (you weren't going to forget them this time) and slip out of your apartment.
You hadn't even knocked twice before the door was pulled open. Tendou looked a mess, more so than usual. Unidentified stains littered the apron looped around his thin waist, streaks of what you hoped were just flour and granulated sugar were all over his hands. You almost wanted to ask if he was baking or dealing dope.
“You woke me up at three in the morning...for this?”
“Yuuup!”
"When I said you could call me at any time, I really didn’t mean any time.” You scratch your side, a contemplative look on your face at the sight of Tendou in what you would assume to be his pajamas. An old volleyball hoodie with the words "Shirazorizawa" printed across the front, and old sweats the were so obviously cut with scissors at the knee.
Rolling your eyes, you mumbled a curt, “Alright, move aside.”
Tendou ushered you over to his kitchen where several of his cooking supplies laid on the island, along with a tray of some chocolate dessert spread.
“It’s all still in the testing phase, but I think I’m onto something here.”
He was definitely giving off “mad scientist” vibes. You tried not to snort.
Holding a small chocolate cake in his hand, he smiled, a genuine smile this time. "Open wide."
You obeyed, far too tired to argue, and let him pop the treat into your mouth. Tendou watched as you chewed, as if it were the most interesting thing ever. His wide gaze carefully took in every shift in your expression.
"So? Whaddya think?"
"I...," You chewed a bit more. "...It's delicious! Is that—"
"—Pistachio, why yes it is!" 
Tendou was practically bouncing on his feet with excitement. "It takes the entire thing to a whole new level."
You had to agree with him there. This was probably the best chocolate madeleine you'd ever tasted. "Great work, miracle boy. Will you be introducing this new recipe to Claude?"
Mentioning his teacher seemed to sober him up a bit. "Ehh, maybe? The old man's a bit of traditionalist, so I'll just have to figure out a way to get him to approve."
"Maybe try calling him at three in the morning?" 
Tendou stuck his tongue out at you before popping a dessert in his mouth. The pure delight on his face was so contagious, you found yourself smiling just the same. You couldn’t help but admire his passion.
“Hey, Tendou… do you like your job?”
He blinked at you, chewing coming to a slow halt. “Well of course! The pay isn’t the best just yet, but it’s a labor of love. I’m willing to put my all into it at least.”
“Huh… that’s pretty cool.” You wiped your fingers on a nearby rag. “I hope to feel the same one day… if I can figure out what I wanna do.”
“Why not bake? You’re pretty good at it.”
“Oh am I? Last week you said my baking needed some work.”
“Well, duh, but my standards when it comes to confectionaries are impossibly high. Even so, I think you’d be successful as a baker. What’s stopping you from pursuing your labor of love?”
And that was the thing with Tendou. He talked a lot, teased even more, but it was never idle ramblings. Somehow, he always seemed to hit right at the heart of the issue with almost painfully uncomfortable accuracy.
“I don’t really know so…” You looked away, trailing off.
“Either way,” he said and placed a finger under your chin, raising your head until you were looking him in the eye. “I’m rooting for you.”
For a moment, you simply stared, awestruck. It was the first time in a long while someone was actually putting their faith in you, believing in you. He had come blazing into your life unabashed with his easy grins and gaze alight with mischief. His encouraging words, sincerity, sensitivity. Tendou was really incredible.
“Tendou…” You took his hand in yours, squeezing it. “Thanks. For everything.”
“Of course, what are neighbors for.”
BONUS:
Three months later you sat curled up next to Tendou on his sofa, his entire apartment smelled of chocolate cocoa with hints of cinnamon.
Before you was an application. Culinary school.
“You really think I can do this?”
Tendou placed his head on your shoulder with a tiny smirk. “One hundred and twenty percent!”
You pondered for a moment, then decided that if he thought you were up for the challenge then you’d believe him.
“For the record, you probably aren’t supposed to recommend your girlfriend for an interview. You know, conflict of interest and all.”
Tendou laughed and pulled you closer. “Trust me, we’ll be fine, so don’t worry your pretty little head, ‘kay?”
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birdsandspades · 4 years ago
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I Was Never Good at Waiting (Sugawara x Reader) Chapter 14
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- It was your last year in highschool, everything had been going smoothly until you got assigned the new teacher. Sugawara Koushi was handsome, maybe too handsome for his own good. Be he wasn’t flirting with you right, teachers shouldn’t do that….I guess we will see where this year goes.
Word Count - 7,451
-Does this have spelling errors, yes. Did I try to proof read this, yes. Do I have work in a few hours, yes. Also tumblr hates my old gif so I guess we're switching it.
----
You could only read a sentence so many ways. Forwards, backwards, skipping every other word as if some hidden message was hiding between the white lines.
“Sugawara told me you needed a fake boyfriend for the day and gave me your number for the details. What time do you need me to show up at the station tomorrow?”
It was a well written text message, all the words fully typed out. This was definitely not from anyone of your slightly illiterate classmates.
The area code belonged to one of the Tokyo subdivisions. The same three Iwa-chan had while he was going to school at Tokyo university. Maybe whoever this was attended the school as well?
You chewed on your lip in tandem with the blinking of your text cursor. You had to reply but with what?
“Maybe Koushi is awake.” You scrolled through your recent calls, tapping on his contact. The phone sat silent for a moment before ringing once, twice, three times. No answer. His voicemail droned on as you looked into the dark kitchen.
“Hi you’ve reached Sugawara Koushi, i’m not able to answer right now. If you leave me a message i’ll…” You ended the call, watching as the screen closed and the message opened back up.
Something was turning, working away as you started at the phone icon that sat next to the unknown number.
“His voicemail will have his name!” You had reached your aha moment as you dialed the number, lifting the phone to your ear. You could be smart when you wanted to be.
No answer, not much to your surprise, it was in fact very late. You waited for the voicemail as you slid to the edge of the sofa seat.
“I’m sorry, but the person you called has a voice mailbox that has not been set up yet. Goodbye.”
You pulled the phone away from your ear slowly, carefully setting in on the coffee table. Turning to the side you threw your head into the sofa cushion and screamed.The universe could give you a break, maybe even a little crack. Bend just a little bit?
You had no plan A, or B, or C at this point. And despite not wanting to rely on a complete stranger to dig you out of yet another one of your problems, Sugawara had put a plan in place at some point in your evening. A poorly set up plan, but something nonetheless.
You sat back up and grabbed your phone again. You would just text him and wait, hope that he got it and showed up. Eight hours was plenty of notice right?
“We will be at the Tokyo station at noon tomorrow, i’ll be waiting at the plaza water fountain just outside the entrance.”
Sent.
It was now a waiting game as you set the phone down beside you. You head tilting back till it met the plush top of the sofa back. You watched the ceiling fan turn, counting the seconds as you waited for any kind of response. Five minutes turned to ten, ten to thirty, and soon enough it had been an hour. Whatever came after was forgotten as your lids inched shut, the burning in your eyes too much to suffer through.
Whatever anxiety you had sunk to the back of your mind as you finally got your break, some uninterrupted sleep.
---
You sat up, rubbing your eyes as you looked around the dark living room. Your phone chimed on the seat next to you, the bright screen making you squint. You felt for the device, lifting it up as you yawned.
“One missed call from :Tooru (#1 Senpai) Oikawa”
You redialed the number, lifting the phone to your ear as you stood up. You could see the light bleeding through your blinds as you walked over to the window, with one tug of the string beside them the room was flooded. You stretched, shifting the phone to your other ear as the ringing stopped and the voicemail beeped.
“Sorry but I can’t make it to the phone right now, if this is in regards to any events or games please call my agent. Bye!” Tooru’s voice chimed on the other end.
“Hi, sorry I just woke up. Call me back when you get this?” You hung up, the screen illuminating again with another call.
You clicked on it, raising it again to your ear. “Hey, good morning.”
“You mean good afternoon.” Yua corrected.
You smiled, shaking your head as you turned to look into the kitchen. You squinted, trying to make out the red numbers on the stove clock. Ten...twenty...four….
“It's not noon yet Yua, it's only 10:30.”
“Yeah and the train leaves at 11:00…” She went silent, as did you.
“Oh my god...Oh my god!” You screamed into the phone as she pulled the speaker away from her own ear.
“See you in thirty early worm.” She chuckled as she hung up the phone, you needed all the time you could get.
You looked at the time again, thirty minutes was hardly enough time to get to the station, let alone get ready for an entire date (date?).
You took a deep breath before running up the stairs. You would have to cut out the non essential things. Showering, makeup, brushing your hair, probably not going to happen. You slid to a stop at the bathroom door, taking a step back to look at yourself in the mirror. Maybe you could find time to brush your hair.
---
You could not describe the mess your room was in as you closed the door behind you twenty minutes later, toothbrush still in your mouth as you jumped down the stairs.
“Shoes, where did I put my stupid shoes?” You groaned as you reached under the coffee table.
You pulled one out, throwing it by the door as you ducked back under the wooden table to grab the other. Your phone buzzing in your pocket startled you as you bumped your head on the underside of the table.
“Ow…” You rubbed the sore spot as you pulled the other shoe out. Today was already off to a bad start.
“Almost ready, almost ready.” You chanted as you made your way to the door, like a mantra to trick your brain into a false sense of security as you shoved your foot into your sneakers.
You were looping the laces on your shoes when Yua called again.
Your brain was doing well with one thing at a time, as most brains tended to do. But the vibration in your hand pulled all focus away from your already clumsy half standing shoe tying, your left foot coming down on the still unlooped laces of your right. You tried to pick up the foot, one foot, the wrong foot. Your right foot raised up, the bunge of the laces toppling you over in the doorway as you tried to answer the phone.
You picked your previously floor planted face and glowered at the phone, the vibrations mirroring the tingling in your knees.
You rolled over, lifting the phone to your ear.
“Ten minutes, the train leaves in ten minutes Y/N!” Yua warned.
“Yeah, i’m like almost there.” You mumbled, phone sandwiched between your shoulder and cheek as you moved the toothbrush still in your mouth over. You finished tying your shoes before standing back up.
Yua laughed, she knew you were lying. “I can’t understand you, just make sure you're on the train.” She ended the call, leaving your line silent.
You grabbed your bag and coat off the hangers, and pulled the front door open. Leaning back in to set your toothbrush on the door side bench, you would put it up later. Trading your phone for your keys, you fished them out of your bag and locked the door behind you.
You ran down your porch steps, scanning over the now empty driveway. Sugawara’s car was gone.
“He must have come early in the morning to get it…” You shrugged, you would ask him later.
You ran. Down the sidewalk, across the busy street, and over the bridge that led to the station opening. You stopped for no one as you pushed your way through the crowds on the platform. You had turned a fifteen minute walk into a six minute sprint, a new record.
You squeezed down the station stairs, your train just up ahead. You could see Yua from the door opening, a seat open next to her. She waved at you to hurry, her attention on the overhead speakers. You could hear the announcement, the train doors were about to close.
The door inched shut as you jumped off the platform and onto the now departing train. The doors sealed behind you as the overhead announced the train exiting the station.
You bent over, hands on your knees as you fought to catch what breath you had left. Yua’s growing laughter hid under your uneven pants, peaking between each thump in your ear.
“Wow, I don’t think I've ever seen you run so fast.” She tried her best to stifle her laughs, the passengers around watching you both with curiosity.
You looked up between the strands of hair, glaring at the hand she offered you.
“Miss?” A man walked over, looking between you and the train door. He reached behind you, pulling at the back of your coat, the tail end stuck between the tightly sealed doors. You could see the other end flapping in the wind through the glass window, a little flag of defeat.
Yua broke again, her laughs echoing around the train as the man tugged at the stuck material. Today was the day, you were going to actually kill her.
You slid the coat off your shoulders, letting it fall back onto the door. You thanked the man as he walked back to his seat, his sullen look matching your own. He had at least tried.
“I hate you.” You groaned, taking the seat beside Yua.
“And I brought you a coffee.” She handed you the warm cup, her smile matching it. “I had a feeling a superstar like you would be up late last night.”
You took the cup, your frown leveling out as you took a drink.
“You changed your hair.” You mused, looking over the vibrant dye.
“Oh yeah, I wanted something new and I figured I would surprise you.” Yua touched her now blue bob, twirling the front strands around her finger.
“You look like a blueberry.” You teased. You liked it, it fit her better then blonde.
“You look like you didn’t even brush your hair.” She pushed you, sitting back in her seat. She knew what you meant, she always did.
You smiled, leaning into her. “I hate you.”
“So how was the concert last night, did Ryu do a ten minute solo this time?” She took the cup from your hands and took a drink.
“It went well, it sold out.” You chuckled, taking the coffee back.
“One day when you're famous will you write a song about me?” She grinned the same gummy smile she always gave you.
“Yeah, i’ll call it “Yua: The Gremlin of Aoba Johsai.”
She pushed you again, rolling her eyes. “I hope you don’t talk to your boyfriend like that.”
“I’m meaner.” You deadpanning, the corners of your mouth turned up as she tried her best to hide her own smile.
“Are you excited to meet him?”
You nodded, the uneasy feeling setting back into your stomach.
“Don’t worry, today is going to be great.” She reassured you, placing her hand over your own.
“Yeah, i’m sure it will be.” You returned her smile, hopefully she was still this happy when the day was over.
You took your phone out of your pocket, no notifications. You had checked during your mid morning panic, but had gotten nothing from Sugawara or your mystery date today. You were starting to doubt there would even be a “boyfriend” to meet.
---
The train pulled into the station, the speakers announcing your stop. You stood up and grabbed the arm of your coat, the doors parting as you pulled the creased fabric out.
You followed the line out, walking over to an open spot along the far wall. You slide your coat back on, the crease smoothing out as you zipped it closed.
Yua reached out, straightening your collar. “Where is he meeting us?”
“The fountain.” You tried to push her hands away, her grip on your collar tightening.
“Stop, let me fix you.” She aggressively pulled at your coat, jiggling you back and forth.
“Ok mom.” You grab her wrists, prying her off of you.
“Ah sorry, it's just. You got so big so fast!” She wipes away a fake tear, chasing after you as you walk up the station stairs.
“I hate you.” You groan, holding the station door open.
You walked together to the fountain nestled in the middle of the plaza. It was busy, groups walking around the park that surrounded the stone circle. It was a popular meetup spot for the area. The perfect walking distance between the university, the train station, and the central hub of the city.
“See him?” Yua nudged you, pulling your eyes away from a group across the park.
You looked around the area, no single person separated from their groups. Whoever was supposed to meet you wasn’t there yet.
You shook your head, leaning against the cold brick of the fountain. The day was warm, pleasant on the exposed skin of your hands. It was the last of the mild weather, the heat of the days increasing as June approached.
Japan had a beautiful way of changing seasons, easing into everything just a bit later than the rest of the world. Right now you were on the cusp of spring and summer, the days melding together as the temperature changed. September the air would cool down, the trees' leaves fading into warmer hues. Snow would cover the barren branches in December, coating the country in white.
School would break then for a few days, giving the students rest for the final term. You would return in January, and the flowers would follow suit in March. You would graduate with the buds, the flowers blooming for a new class.
School broke for about a month after March, the longest break the school would give. You jokingly called it summer break, the closest thing you would get in the Japanese school system. It was the best time to get a part time job, and that's just what you did last year.
You wondered what you would do once you graduated, what that last summer break would be like. It would be the last chance to see your friends, spend time like this before everyone would leave for school.
You had been lost in thought for a bit by the look on Yua’s face. Her hand waving you back to reality.
“Hey, he’s gonna show up. Maybe he’s just late.” She smiled, placing a hand on your shoulder.
“Yeah, he’s probably just late…” You returned the sweet gesture. You had never gotten a reply, with your luck whoever had texted you decided not to come.
Yua looked behind you, tilting her head up. “Can we help you?”
“You could have texted me a little earlier last night F/N.”
You turned around, eyes traveling up the tall man in front of you. “Tsukishima?”
Yua looked between the two of you, her confusion growing each time.
“Tsukishima!” You smiled, shouting a little louder than intended. You wrapped your arms around him, his body tensing at the sudden contact.
He leaned down, wrapping an arm around you as he hovered by your ear. “You may want to try better than that if you want to convince her.” He harshly whispered in your ear, smiling at your friend behind you.
“Well maybe you should have included a name in your message if you were planning on never texting me back.” You gritted your teeth.
Tsukishima laughed, pulling away from the shared hug. He dug his fingers into your skin, pinching your side before walking to greet Yua.
“I’m Tsukishima Kei.” He reached a hand out, the same smile still plastered on his face.
Yua grabbed his hand, shaking it energetically. “I’m Okada Yua. Wow you're a lot better looking than I thought you would be.”
Tsukishima nodded, pulling his hand away. “Thank you?”
“I just thought you would be bald...and creepy.” She smiled, unaware of her backhanded compliment.
“Ok, with that what should we do?” You clapped your hands together, ready to get the day over with.
“I know a cafe at the end of the park, are you two hungry?” Tsukishima placed a hand on your back, guiding you down the pathway.
He was different, something slightly off with the smile that had remained on his face. He wasn’t this sweet last night was he? His dark haired friend had all the charm.Tsukishima, he had the wit.
Yua chatted with him as you walked together, laughing at whatever joke he had said. You instead bore a hole into the side of his face, brows knitting together.
“F/N, are you ok?” He questioned, tilting his head. That same fake sweetness drenching his tone.
“I’m fine.” You smiled, shaking your head.
His eye twitched slightly, the smallest falter in his appearance. “This is it.” He held open the door to the cafe, watching as you walked in behind Yua.
“Hi, can we get a table for three please.” Tsukishima smiled at the lady behind the counter, his hand on your shoulder as the door behind you shut with a jingle.
“Of course.” She nodded, walking out from behind her post.
You craned your neck to look behind you at the tall blonde, his smile wavering once the hostess had led Yua off. “Walk?” He nodded forward and gave you a push.
“Rude.” You grumbled as Yua took a seat at a small table nestled in the window lit corner of the cafe.
“Is this ok?” The hostess smiled, looking between you and the man beside you.
“It’s perfect for a first date.” Tsukki nodded, forcing a grin as he gave you another push into the booth.
Yua audibly awed at the sentiment as she wiggled in her seat, “How cute, I'm going to throw up.”
Tsukki slid in next to you as he rolled his eyes, he hated this as much as you did.
“Have whatever you want, my treat.” He handed you a menu.
“You don’t have to Kei-san, Yua eats a lot…” You protested, a foot connecting with your shin.
“Let your sweet boyfriend pay for us.” Yua scolded through a forced smile.
“It’s no problem. It’s the least I can do for buying her a ticket to come see me.” Tsuki looked down at you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “Call me Tsukki F/N, you don't need to be so formal.” He joked. He played his part well.
Your cheeks grew hot, you hated the thought of being so informal with someone you hardly knew ,“Tsukki…”
“How did you both meet?” Yua interrupted, surely saving you from the awkward encounter. “First date nerves”, she thought.
“One of her concerts. I have a few classes with Ryu so he introduced us.” Tsukki nodded, turning his attention away from you.
“You go to college right?” Yua added, setting down her menu.
“Yeah, just across the way at Tokyo University.”
“Wow, that's expensive! What are you going for?”
“Undecided.”
“Well what are your interests, do you have hobbies?”
You could see his smile falter at the barrage of questions from Yua, her interest in the last waning as she asked another cluster.
“Sorry to interrupt, can I order anything for you?” The waitress smiled, book in hand as she looked around the table.
Yua listed off her feast as Tsukishima leaned over your shoulder to look at the menu still in your hand.
“Iced mango tea please.” He looked back at you as you shifted nervously in your seat.
“One iced americano please.” You attempted to hand the menu back to her, slightly leaning over Tsukishima as you looked at him to move over. He leaned back in his seat, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. You frowned, leaning further over his large frame to give the menu back.
A glass tipped over a few tables over, the patron cursing under their breath. “I’ll put these in for you.” The host nodded before excusing herself to help clean up the spilled drink.
You sat back in your seat, glaring at Tsukki as you scooted towards the window.
“I’m going to use the restroom, you two enjoy some alone time.” Yua wink, sliding out of the booth.
You watched her disappear behind the bathroom door before turning to Tsukki. “Thank you for coming today but you don’t need to be so…”
“Sweet?” Tsukki interrupted.
“Fake.” You corrected, “You weren't even this happy last night…”
“Sugawara-san told me to play the part.” He smiled, pinching at your cheek.
You pushed his hand away, “What else did he tell you?”
“A good amount, he's a chatty drunk.”
A younger man walked up to the table, drinks and treats in hand as he set each one down in front of you.
“Thank you.” Tsukki nodded before turning back to you.
“How chatty?” You questioned, the amused look painting it's way over his features told you enough.
“Excited for volleyball nationals? How about that English test last week? He says you got an A. But you forgot a few commas, you may want to pay attention to that.”
You let your head fall on the table as you groaned, “Did he tell everyone?”
“No, I was the only one who bothered to listen.” He lifted the tea filled glass to his lips, nodding towards Yua coming out of the bathroom.
Her eyes lit up as she sat back down, “This all looks so good, thank you Tsukki!”
His nose wrinkled at the informalities, “Of course.”
“How is it?” He turned towards you as you took a sip of your drink.
“It’s good.” You return his smile, looking over the tall boy's features for the first time that day.
He was in his own ways very handsome, his soft blond hair tousled, falling just below his eyes. The sun shined in just the right way on the sparse auburn highlights that framed the pieces, the lightest shade of strawberry blonde.
He gave you a quizzical look, eyes shining behind the thick rims of his glasses. They were golden, sparkling in the rays of soft yellow sunlight that tinted the entire cafe.
He reminded you of the golden hour, when the sun dipped just enough below to horizon to paint the world in golden yellows.
“You didn’t order anything to eat?” He waved the waitress over again, “You’ll get a stomach ache if you just drink coffee all day.” He nodded for you to order something else as she pulled out her book.
“Ah i’m fine really…” You contested, trying to excuse the waitress.
“Strawberry shortcake?” He looked at Yua as she nodded. “One strawberry shortcake please.”
“Tsukki you didn’t need to get me anything else.” You frowned as she disappeared to put in your order.
“Of course I did, I can’t have my love feeling sick all day.” Tsukki smoothed over your hair, his long fingers trailing down the side of your jaw to turn your flustered gaze towards him.
“T-tsukki!” You stammered pushing his hand away as he chuckled.His personality was killing all the admiration you had for him.
“Cute.” He beamed, before looking over his shoulder.
“Here you go.” The same young boy smiled as he set down your cake.
“Oh, thank you!” You bowed slightly as the boy took his leave.
“Once you finish we can go do anything you like.” Tsukishima pushed the plate towards you as his arm layed around the back of your seat.
“I know he's trying to be convincing but he could lay it on a little less thick.” You shifted slightly as his hand ghosted over your shoulder.
“This has to be some of the best cake i’ve ever had. Do you come here a lot Tsukki?” Yua asked through a mouth of coffee cake.
“Once or twice a week when I need a quiet place to study. This place is open 24 hours a day so it’s pretty nice late at night.”
“Wow, we don’t have anything like that. Maybe I should come here for college.” Yua proclaimed as you took a bite of cake.
“Yua do you think your grades are good enough?” You tease, pushing your foot against her own under the table as she pouted.
“How is your cake?” Tsukishima questions as you cut off another bite.
“It’s good, do you want some?” You slid the plate towards him, he is paying for it after all.
“Sure.” He smiles, leaning over you to take the bite off your fork.
Your froze, fork still in midair as you made eye contact with the shrewd man. The entertainment he got from your expectation was telling enough as to why he was doing this.
Yua’s phone buzzed on the table top suddenly, “Oh excuse me, i’ll meet you guys outside.”
She got up from the table, answering the call as she nodded a thank you to the host and walked out the door.
“Finish you cake.” Tsukishima nudged you, as he got up from the table. “I’m gonna go pay.”
You looked at your fork before setting it down, you hated him.
A few moments later Tsukki came back, sliding in beside you.
You pushed the last bite of cake toward him, frowning at the still apparent smirk on his face.
“Oh don’t be so upset, I was only teasing.” He shook his head as he took the last bite. “Flustering you was a bonus, I only wanted to see if I could agitate him more.”
You looked at the blond confused, “Who?”
“You mean you didn’t know he was coming today?” It was now his turn as his brows knitted together. He snorted, covering his mouth to stifle the laughs.
You shook your head slowly, it just wasn’t clicking. Tsukki sighed and nodded for you to look behind him.
Sitting up slightly you looked at the hat clad man sitting alone by the bathroom door, phone in hand as he flipped through an app. He turned around slightly, hazel eyes meeting your own as he looked back down at his lap.
“What is that idiot doing?” You questioned, leaning over to get a better look at your boyfriend sinking into his oversized jacket.
“Hiding.” Tsukki jokes, his finger tapping on the phone laying on the table before you.
You unlock it, dialing Sugawara. Both of your eyes glued on the incognito man.
He’s phone vibrated, startling him as he jumped in his seat before quickly ignoring the call.
Tsukishima shook his head, before slipping out of the booth. “Let's give him his privacy.”
You nod, picking up your phone to end the call. The notification screen popping back up as you notice another missed call.
“One missed call from :Tooru (#1 Senpai) Oikawa”
“When did he call?” You question, redialing his number for the second time that day. You slid out of the booth, following Tsukishima out of the cafe as the phone rang.
No answer.
You listen to his voicemail, giving Yua a small smile as she looks over at you.
“Sorry I missed you again. Just call me when you get this, or text me...I hope you're having a good day senpai.” You ended the call before walking over to your friends.
“Was the Oikawa-senpai?” Yua questioned as she looked over your face.
“Yeah. He called me this morning too but didn’t leave a message that time either.” You thought back to the late night call you had gotten from him before, it wasn’t unlike him to randomly call you. But never that late and never without a message.
“Do you want to keep trying him?” Tsukki was no stranger to Oikawa or his strange ways, but he could tell from the look on your face that whatever had been bothering you wasn’t a new issue.
“No, it’s ok. I don’t want to keep you guys waiting.” You wave them off, turning up the volume on your phone before putting it back in your pocket.
“Ok.” Tsukki gives you a strange look, his golden eyes unreadable.
“Well what do you guys want to go do?” Yua beams, leaning between the both of you.
“Tsukishima you live over here, is there anything you want to do?” You smile, his eyes softening.
“Not really.” He shrugs.
Yua points to the banner peeking out between the trees of the park, “That looks fun.”
You shift over to see the words boldly written across the white fabric, “New dinosaur exhibit from the United States”
You mouth the words, eyes lighting up at you turned towards and equally bright eyed Tsukki.
He coughed, turning around to hide the growing blush crossing his cheeks as you took a step back.
“We can go if you want Tsukki.”
“I don’t care, whatever you want.” He cleared his throat, avoiding your curious gaze.
“Cute.” You teased, as he pushed you away from him.
“Lets just go.” He grumbles, walking ahead of you.
---
“Wow Tsukki look!” You beamed, pulling him over to another fossilized skeleton of some long dead lizard. “I think this one kinda looks like you.” You teased, pointing to the long neck.
“Think we're distant cousins?” He smiled, stretching his neck out.
You laughed, covering your mouth as groups walking by starred.
“Only if F/N is related to that frilly looking one over there.” Yua added as Tsukishima chuckled.
You fixed your eyes on the familiar hat behind Tsukishima, tucked behind a pillar close to the museum exit. Sugawara had been following close behind the three of you all night, ducking behind exhibits each time you came close.
“I’m going to use the bathroom, i'll meet you both by the exit.” You excused yourself as the other two continued on the prehistoric tour.
You made your way around the opposite side of the pillar, Sugawara looking out the other way as he moved to follow your existing group. You snuck up behind him, looking around him as he scanned to check if it was clear to come out.
“Hi Koushi.” You smiled, looking up at the distracted man.
“Hi F/N.” He looked at you before turning back to the mission at hand, he couldn't let you get too far now could he?
“I like your hat, where did you get it?” You mused, this man was oblivious.
“A gift.” He answers your briefly before spinning around. “Hi!” He chuckles loudly, startled by how close you had gotten.
“What are you doing Koushi?” You tilt your head, an amused smile adoring your face.
“I wanted to make sure your date went well!.” He waved his hands in defense, taking a step back.
You wrapped your hands around his wrist, pulling him back behind the pillar. “And why would you need to do that?”
“Because drunk me worries a lot less than sober me…” He sighs in defeat, what use was it hiding from you. He couldn’t just sit at home while you were on a date with another guy, fake or not.
You groan, rolling your eyes, “ Koushi someone could see you.”
“Well tell Tsukki to stop touching you so much and I wouldn't need to be chaperoning this date.” He huffed in reply, folding his hands over his chest.
“He’s just trying to convince Yua.” You couldn’t help but smile, jealous Sugawara was your favorite.
“Yeah he’s trying something…” He looked away, cheeks growing red at your gaze.
“You're ridiculous, I have to go. Try not to let Yua see you ok?” You stood up on your tiptoes, pushing his hat up enough to press a quick kiss to his cheek before leaving.
He put a hand over the warm spot, throwing his head back as he groaned. He grumbled to himself as he walked off, he might as well try to beat you home at least.
---
“Hey sorry!” You looked between the two as they turned away from their conversation.
“Was it the coffee?” Yua frowned.
“I did tell you to eat.” Tsukki added, chuckling as you smack his arm.
“I hate you both.” You whined, Yua giggling.
“The train is gonna be at the station in about thirty minutes, I think we should head back.” Yua pointed to the clock in the center of the museum, nodding towards the sun setting just [ast the tree line.
“Wow, is it already seven?” You looked at her wide eyed as Tsukki nodded.
“We can cut through the park, the station is just on the other side.”
You followed him and Yua out of the museum, falling behind as you looked down at your illuminated phone.
“It’s Tooru, I'll catch up.” You waved them off as you lifted the phone to your ears.
---
Oikawa looked up at your door, taking a deep breath before shifting the bouquet of flowers to his other hand. He tapped on your door lightly before taking a step back.
Your lights were on in your bedroom, the soft yellow peeking out of the white curtains. He stood on his tiptoes as he watched for some kind of movement behind them.
His anxiety grew as he sank back down on the balls of his feet, nervously chewing on his lip as he reached to knock on your door one more time, this one a bit louder.
He had tried to call you, but for some reason most of them weren't going through. The few that did were never picked up.
He didn’t want to confess to you over a voicemail, and his nerves were too much to leave a coherent message on why he was calling you in the first place.
“Where are you?” He questioned, knocking again on the door. Readjusting the bouquet in his hands he straightened his back and watched the door again.
He knew you were off from practice today, only because he drove by the school three times to check. Were you asleep, working on homework, maybe you had taken a walk down to the corner store.
“Maybe I should call her again.” He frowned, moving the flowers into one hand as he pulled out his phone.
The seconds between each ring felt like eons, his heartbeat stopping all together when the next one didn’t come. His breath hitched once he heard your voice faint on the other end, talking to someone before speaking to him.
“I think that may have been the longest game of phone tag we’ve had in awhile.” You smiled, happy someone had finally gotten through.
“Yeah, it definitely might have been.” He returned your laugh as he looked out at the setting sun over the building tops. He relished the sound of your voice, leaning into the phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh nothing, just seeing what your doing tonight.” Oikawa kicked at the concrete step in front of him.
“On a date in Tokyo actually, why?” You look at Tsukki and Yua arguing over what way to go, shaking your head as Yua threw her hands up in defeat.
“Oh, well nevermind then. I was by your house today so I wanted to say hi.” His words caught in his throat, voice cracking.
“Oh, i’ll be back in a few hours…” You frowned, did he sound upset?
“It’s ok, I have to head back to Tokyo for training in the morning.”
“I'm sorry senpai, maybe next weekend?” You stopped walking, Yua waving for Tsukki to stay.
“Yeah, maybe. Get home safe F/N.”
“You too Senpai.” You try to add as the line dies.
He looked down at the bouquet in his hands, lavender and baby's breath peeking out over the opaque cellophane .
He had remembered you mentioning this exact arrangement one night with him. Sobbing into his chest as you cried about never finding a boyfriend, never having a wedding, never getting to have your dream bouquet of flowers.
He found it endearing and quite funny that you decided to confess this to him of all people, the man that of course planned on marrying you one day.
He had wanted to wait until you finished school to tell you of course, you were distracted enough as is. But Sugawara was reason enough to do it sooner rather than later.
He had fought with himself long enough over telling you his true feelings, hated himself for letting another boy break your heart. He couldn’t handle seeing you like that anymore.
So he decided today would be the day, he would confess to you before you and Sugawara got serious. He had planned an entire day but with the lack of communication on both sides now he was left with this. Standing in front of your door as the sun went down, praying that you would open the door before it got any colder outside.
He bit his lip, chuckling as the bouquet fell to his side. “Of course i’ve been trying to reach her all day while she's on a date.”
He looked at the vibrant flowers, his restrained laugh slowly turning into soft sobs. His grip on the stems tightening as he turned back towards his car.
He threw the flowers into the passenger seat before getting in. Turning on the car, he ripped the gear shift back into drive. He sat there a moment, looking at the road in the rearview mirror before easing back into park, foot still rutted into the brake pedal.The lull of the motor reverberated through the steering wheel as he rested his head on the cold leather.
A moment was all he needed, just a moment to be alone as he screamed. Cried out how badly he wanted you to be home, how suffocating it was loving you when you didn't even know, how long he had hated the dull throbbing in his chest everytime he thought of you.
But now his moment was over as he sat back up, rubbing the tears from his swollen eyes as he reversed the car out of your driveway.
---
“Everything ok?’ Yua questions, walking beside you.
“Maybe, Tooru was in town today and wanted to see me.” You looked up at the confused blond behind her.
“Is that a bad thing?” Tsukki tilted his head.
“I’m not sure.” You force a smile as you looked away from your dark phone. “Lets go, we don’t want to miss the train!” You push your friends along, their suspicions waning.
You approached the station with a few minutes for goodbye, eyes falling on each other as you waited for someone to speak first.
“Well i’ll leave you too for your first kiss.” Yua smiles, pushing you towards Tsukishima. “Bye bye Tsukki, it was great meeting you!” She gave him a brief bow before turning to walk away.
“She is so annoying.” You whine as she disappears down the station steps.
“She cares, I think it's...sweet.” Tsukki shakes his head at the bright blue bob looking around the corner at the two of you. “Get home safe, text me that you made it ok if you want.” Tsukishima placed both his hands on the side of your face, leaning in to place a soft kiss on the crown of your head. “I’m sure she’ll ask why if I didn’t.”
You smiled softly up at the blond, “Thank you Tsukki.”
He gave Yua a wave, her head ducking back behind the brick wall of the station as he said his finally goodbyes.
You met Yua as the train pulled in, her squeals pricking your eardrums. “I would have preferred one on the lips for how much I spent on these tickets but that was fine too.”
You rolled your eyes and took a seat besides her on the train. “Ok, ok. Shush before we get kicked off the train.” It was nice to see her happy, despite the deceptive reasonings behind it.
The train ride is spent in silence as you both doze off, you hadn’t been the only one up all night worrying.
As the train pulled in, Yua nudged you awake. Passengers grabbing bags as they departed. You followed behind, walking with her up to the street as you regained some form of coherence.
You gave your friend a wave goodbye ,before turning to leave .Her hand grabbed at the fabric of your sleeve, pulling you back.
“Hey wait can I talk to you really fast?”
“Sure.” It was seldom that you saw Yua timid, eyes avoiding your own as she worked up the courage she usually had.
“Well, F/N. I, well. I’m sorry for everything.” She looked up at you, frowning at your growing smile.
“Yua it's fine, I should have just told you.” You attempted to ease the tension.
“No, it’s not. I didn’t think you could take care of yourself or make these kinds of decisions so I butted into your personal life that you weren't ready to share.” She kicked at the air before taking a deep breath.
“F/N, I was a bad friend. Your mom told me when she left to look out for you and I took it too far. I could have really messed up our friendship.” Her lip quivered as she shook her head. “ I’m sorry, I won’t be your mom anymore!” Her voice was louder then intended as she tried her best to cover the faults in her voice.
You chuckled, placing a hand on your head. “Your stupid and I love you.”
She returned your smile, pushing you lightly. “Go home loser.”
You waved goodbye, walking in opposite directions as you each made your way home. The burden no longer heavy on your friend's chest.
You on the other hand had your own, phone heavy in your pocket.
“Maybe I should call Tooru again, he sounded upset.” You reflected as you walked home.
Something didn’t sit right with you, anxiety building every time you thought about that call.
You pulled out your phone, turning on the screen as you walked up the driveway to your house.
You looked up at the porch, lowering your phone back down.
“Hey you.” You smiled, Sugawara leaning back against the step.
“Hey.” He patted the space beside him, “Let's have a talk.”
You gave him a quizzical look, slowly sinking down beside him.
He looks up at you, his lips in a tight line.“You two are breaking up, I'm not allowing you to see Tsukki anymore.”
You shook your head before laying it against his chest. “That's fine, he thinks he knows more about dinosaurs then me anyways.”
“I’m glad that was the deal breaker.” Sugawara ran his hand down your back as he laid his head on top of yours.
You stayed this way for a while, looking out at the skyline of stars. Your eyes growing heavier as you listened to the soft thumping of the heart that seemed to beat in tandon to your own.
“You should head inside, we have class bright and early tomorrow.” Sugawara pulled you away from his chest, his hand tilting your sleepy gaze to meet his own.
You nodded as he got up. He offered you a hand, helping you up as he brushed the dirt off your pants legs. You walked with him down the stairs to his car, watching him get in. He rolled the window, leaning out to meet you.
“Goodnight.” He smiled, pulling you down to his level. He ghosted his lips over your own before kissing you softly.
“Goodnight.” You leaned your forehead against his before standing back up.
He gave you a small wave before pulling out of your driveway, the size increasing as he drove down the road.
You giggled, watching his car disappear around the corner before making your way back up the steps. As you unlocked your door you noticed a small bud of lilac sticking out from under your doormat, the light illuminating the vibrant sprig as you opened the door.
You leaned down to pick it up, “These don't grow here?” You examined the flower, tilting it over in your hand as the door closed behind you.
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rahabs · 4 years ago
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How are you staying active during quarantine? I just tipped into 180lbs, highest I've ever been, and I'm getting really depressed about it 😔 I've only gained about 7-8 pounds due to the quarantine, but back in January I was at 163, and I'm really struggling with the fact that I'm back up again after how hard I've been working. It feel like I can't get the weight to stay off, now esp. (Sorry for the mini rant, but I actually followed you Bc of your fitness posts, I appreciate them a lot
Many hugs to you, Anon, and there is no need to apologise 🖤  You are definitely not alone.  I have also been struggling a lot with my weight recently (I have deliberately been putting on muscle, about 25lbs of it, but it is still a struggle to do so and to feel sometimes like my work getting down from 210lbs is being reversed--I am up to 145-150lbs myself, even though I still fit most all of my clothes from when I was 122lbs), but please do not be too hard on yourself!  Some of that weight gain might be muscle, but I understand how frustrating and demoralising it can be nonetheless, I really do.  Like... I really, really cannot emphasise enough how much I understand and how much I get what you’re going through right now, and I wish with all my heart that you weren’t going through it, because it hurts and it makes you just feel awful and so I am really and truly wishing you all the best right now, but also I have the utmost faith in you and despite the setback it is nothing that you cannot fix going forward 🖤
To answer your question, I’ve been doing a mix of things, but the two biggest things for me are that I built myself a routine, and I try to just walk everywhere that I can.  Also, I track in an app called MyFitnessPal, because I need to hold myself accountable.  The gyms in my city have recently opened back up and I have usually been going five times a week (reduced capacity and you can only go for an hour, but I use every second of that hour because cardio is how I best manage OCD/PTSD/anxiety, and I love love love seeing some beloved familiar strangers at the gym--we all wave happily to each other, since we tend to book the same time slots 🖤), but before they opened up my biggest friend was just walking.  I have a lot of joint issues due to my improperly healed torn hip flexor and my former obesity, so I can’t run, but you don’t need to run.  Walking is your best friend.  Or even household chores.  I used to work for a landscaping company, so when I can I will help with the yardwork (even though I dislike it--I try to find ways to make it more fun, and I genuinely enjoy being out in the sun, so there’s that at least).  I make sure things stay tidy, I’ve been writing a lot and trying to see friends when I can, or get out to hike in the mountains.  If I go grocery shopping and I’m waiting in a line, sometimes I’ll lazily bicep-curl my grocery bags.  I’ll walk to the mailbox, I’ll walk through the neighbourhood, I’ll walk to the grocery store or to the nearest gas station.  My dogs are old so I cannot walk them anymore, especially since we are under a heat wave, but I’ll get up and play with them.  Bottom line: if I could find somewhere to walk and an excuse to walk there, I would.  When I couldn’t, I would sit down and exercise by following my favourite home workout YouTube channel.  (Seriously, she is amazing; I’ve followed her for years, since her channel was just starting out.  I just got a half-sleeve tattoo and cannot use a lot of gym equipment at the moment so I have gone back to her videos, as she provides a lot of modifications and alternatives and just so many good at-home exercises that you don’t need any fancy equipment for.)
The routine is the most important part, though.  I need structure, and if I have structure I find that I am less likely to binge, because my brain won’t freak out as much (whether out of boredom or something else).
You might know this already but I’m a (recovering) binge-eater and I also eat when bored or stressed, so I’ve just been trying to occupy myself with things other than food.  I had a really bad spot for awhile where I was doing really, really poorly in that department an binged every day, but I finally put my foot down last week and this is the longest that I’ve been binge-free in months.  I also have BDD, which I am working on (hard going when my attempts to ask the people around me for help often fall on deaf ears).
I think it’s important to realise that fitness and weight loss isn’t always linear.  There will be times where you falter and stumble and when that happens it’s important not to punish yourself--instead just accept and acknowledge that it’s happened and adapt for the future.  Like a little AAA battery!  Bodies are also weird, and sometimes they react to things strangely.  I’m not a professional in any way, but since working to put on some muscle I have noticed that women’s bodies at least like... they are strange things sometimes.   And I know it sounds weird, but try not to put too much emphasis on a number on the scale.  I’m not saying “get rid of the scale!” or “smash the scale!” or anything silly like that because I think to some people having the scale is really important, so long as it doesn’t become something obsessive you fixate on (I have severe OCD, professionally diagnosed, so easier said than done, but it’s doable by adding it to the routine and picking one day a week where I check in), but make sure it doesn’t become a focal point of your weight loss.
Instead, just notice how your clothes are fitting.  If you have body tape, you can use that too.  Pick a favourite pair of jeans and just see how they fit over time, or a favourite bra, or something that doesn’t stretch as easily as yoga pants.  Again, some of your recent weight gain might actually be muscle mass, especially if you aren’t noticing a lot of change in how your clothes from January fit.  When I first hit 145lbs when I was first losing the weight, I didn’t look like I do at my current 145-150lbs, after having got down to 120 and then making the decision to put some muscle back on.  Save for some jean shorts that I bought at my lowest weight, because I build thick muscles in my thighs, I still fit all the clothes I bought and wore at 120lbs--including my fitted dresses, my Stampede jeans, most of my bras, and the pair of “check Lulus” I bought because those things are without mercy.  I also have a couple really good friends I check in with who know me and who I can trust to tell me the truth when I cannot perceive it myself.  And, when I’m being honest with it (which I am trying really hard to be again), I have MyFitnessPal, which has been with me through thick and thin.
If you can, I would recommend a good fitness tracker, too.  Fitbit is really good and user-friendly.  I have a Garmin now, because Fitbit doesn’t make adult watches or watch bands small enough for my ridiculous baby bird wrists, but I had my Fitbit for years before that and it saw me through the vast majority of my weight loss/fitness quest.  It can be very helpful to just help you gauge where you are; most people grossly overestimate how active they actually are, and if you’re up for it, a tracker can be helpful in giving you empirical data from which you can base some better decisions around.
And just do you best to stay active.   I do not know if you have any gyms where you live or if they’re open, but I would really recommend getting a membership, though I totally understand that gyms are not for everyone.  If not, I really do recommend checking out that youtube channel I linked (Koboko Fitness), and just doing your best to walk wherever there’s the option to walk (and it won’t cause undue hardship/pain/etc).  Lift some boxes around the house.  Turn doing the dishes into a stretching exercise.  If you’re familiar with yoga, do yoga (I do not because I am not familiar with it and it can be dangerous to people like me with joint issues to start if you don’t have anyone around who can tell you if you’re doing it right, but my younger sister is working on a cert and she does yoga daily, even with the baby bump).  Many gyms are offering online classes right now too, including the gyms I go to (GoodLife Fitness in Canada), so they can be worth checking out too!
But also just know you’re not in that boat alone.  Many people are struggling right now, including myself, so if you ever need to chat my inbox and my DMs are always open (and I can toss my Discord handle out too if that helps), because a support system can really make all the difference.  I never had one for the longest time, and so when I fell back on old, bad habits it took me awhile to pull myself out of it (again).  I really can talk about this forever but I will stop myself now because I am a chatty cathy but!  Please feel free to send messages whenever you want, Anon, and please be kind to yourself!  I know it’s scary and I know it’s disappointing because I have been there many a time but you can do this, I believe in you!  You’ve had a setback but it isn’t anything that can’t be fixed/corrected and I have faith that you will be able to get back on the proverbial horse and mow down Alexander’s armies in a way that would make the Achaemenids proud 🖤 I hope this helped in some way and that I was able to answer your question!
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