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distant-velleity · 6 months ago

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cat got your tongue?

Summary: Five times Yuhua didn't say what he thought and one time he finally snapped at someone other than Ace (verbally. You don't get the physical beatdown yet). Word count: 3.6k+ A/N: LMFAO okay so. I had this idea like 3 weeks ago but I only got around to writing it recently. It's ... honestly somewhere between serious and slightly crack treated seriously but yk fuck it we ball. No beta. Outsider POV. FloYu crumbs and everything. Let's go. (Also a sneak peek at my new OC :))) ) Taglist (lowk forgot who's on this so uhhhhh. Some people might have been tagged incorrectly): @thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @elenauaurs @casp1an-sea @nahelenia

@boopshoops @skriblee-ksk @nemisisnemi @nyx-of-night @scint1llat3

@the-banana-0verlord @beneathsakurashade

One day where he can make it out of the cafeteria in peace. That’s all Florian wants. And yet—

“Hey, freak. Where’s that meal combo you promised to get for me? And the homework you said you’d do for me?”

Eeeek!!!

Florian almost bursts into tears on the spot when someone in his grade, a burly bear beastman, grabs him by the back of his collar. It hasn’t even been two weeks into the school year and this guy, Darren, has made it his personal mission to target the weakest student he could find.

“Uh—um—I—” Aaaahhhh!! Get me out of here!!!!! “M—My housewarden, Rosehearts, he… He caught me trying to do your homework for you, a-and…”

“Bullshit,” Darren snaps, “You—”

He’s cut off when someone bumps into him—that someone being none other than the magicless assistant, Yuhua.

Yuhua. Florian’s saved! He’s really saved! Surely, the person who’d suddenly gotten involved with Heartslabyul’s tyranny and pulled off such heroic moves can do something about this…!!

“Whoa… Sorry. What’s going on here?” asks Yuhua.

Darren glares at him, and Florian wilts from second-hand fear. “Nothing, just a talk between classmates. Keep moving.”

Florian gives Yuhua the most pitiful, pleading, desperate look he can in the hopes that it’ll communicate a cry for help.

It seems to work, because the TA turns to the other freshman and tilts his head. “Yeah… That’s definitely all that’s going on? No intimidation or anything?”

“How’s any of that your business?”

“Hey—” Yuhua throws up his hands in a placating gesture, although his expression looks very bothered. “I’m just asking…”

Well, that doesn’t work. Darren lets out a low growl from the depths of his throat. “Who the hell do you think you are, seriously? You think a bunch of rumors are gonna make me afraid of you? Fuck off already.”

Yuhua frowns. “Then… Then maybe you shouldn’t consider doing this in the middle of the cafeteria if it’s private business?”

“Are you kidding me?” Another pissed off growl, and Darren shoves Yuhua. “I could burn you to ashes like it’s nothing. Don’t forget that you’re magicless.”

It’s not directed at Florian, really, but he can’t help but wither and shrink into himself even more on Yuhua’s behalf. Scary… He wants to say something to defend Yuhua, to say that everything’s fine, but—when he looks over at the TA…

Yuhua opens his mouth automatically as if to say something, then closes it. Florian isn’t nearly good enough at reading that kind of complicated expression yet, but he seems to consider something deeply for a second. “Jeez… You know what?”

“What?”

Florian stays silent, eyes wide. He mentally echoes the question—what? Did Yuhua come up with a genius plan to de-escalate the situation? Or to retaliate? Please, please, say this knight in shining armor will do something—

“I just remembered, Crewel needs Florian for something~” Putting on a smile that seems fake even to Florian, Yuhua switches up his mood like it’s nothing. “Sorry. Maybe we can resolve this another time.”

Florian and Darren blurt out, “Huh?” at the same time.

“Come on. He won’t wait forever.” Yuhua pats Florian on the shoulder and uses that to quickly weave them into the crowd of students, making their escape. As much of an escape as it can be called—they’re really only saved by being smaller compared to the beastman, small enough to get through the lunch line mob.

Sigh…

To be honest, Florian was expecting something a little cooler after seeing Yuhua’s defeat of Riddle, but as long as he’s safe for now…

—

II.

It’s a beautiful day outside, the birds are chirping, and the flowers are blooming… something like that. Meanwhile, Ace could be doing something fun right now, but he’s stuck doing an assignment for potions class. Collecting ingredients in the botanical garden… does it get more boring than that? Someone, free him already.

At least he’s pretty sure Yu’s around here somewhere. So, once he’s done collecting a jar-ful of some plant with a name too long to memorize, he’s off to find his yellow-eyed partner in crime.

Making sure to avoid the tropical zone (Yu had warned him about a… uh, certain lion beastman taking naps there), Ace navigates the garden with the ease of a slightly-familiar tourist. The TA had said he’d be near the entrance, so—

“Well? What are you just standing there for?”

…Huh?

Ace turns a corner on the path and is immediately greeted by a sight he probably should have expected—a fight, or something, a commotion smack in the middle of the botanical garden.

“You—Is there some cue I’m missing here?” asks Yu, and Ace realizes with some horror that he’s holding a very obviously bruised cheek. Umm, what the fuck? “Is this suddenly your… territory, or something?”

The other guy, the one who’d spoken earlier, crosses his arms. “No… but I told you to scram already, so scram. Just seeing a magicless charity case here makes me sick.”

Magicless charity case. It’s not the first time Ace has heard those words directed at Yu, and it definitely won’t be the last. Still, it makes his blood boil, and by the looks of it Yu is getting pretty pissed, too.

Ace steps forward, finding his place next to Yu. “Uh, who the hell even are you?” he asks the other guy. “Don’t talk to Yu like that.”

“Ace?” Yu blinks. “What are you—”

“See? A charity case.” The other guy tsks. “You even need a freshman to help you out.”

No, seriously, what is this guy’s deal? What did Yu even do to warrant getting hit and treated like this? Ace swears the TA is a magnet for trouble.

“He’s not—” Yu closes his mouth, and takes a deep breath. “Okay, then. Have it your way. Ace, did you get everything you needed?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Great. Let’s go.”

Even though Yu is a solid eleven or so centimeters shorter than him, Ace finds himself being dragged out of the garden by the coat lapels. He stumbles, but Yu keeps pressing forward, storming away until they’re well out of earshot from that prick.

Finally, Yu lets go.

“What was that?” Ace demands, straightening his labcoat to the best of his ability.

“I don’t know,” mutters Yu. “Some asshole. I don’t even know his name.”

“Okay. And why did we just leave like that? He hit you, didn’t he? And what he called you—you’re just gonna let that slide?”

Ace is, to be frank, nothing short of bewildered. Doesn’t Yu have any sort of dignity, a sense of, what, honor? Yes he does, Ace is pretty sure he’s seen it, so why didn’t he just… you know… let himself be mad?

Yu rolls his eyes. “It’s fine. There were still other students there, you know. I didn’t want to cause a scene.”

Cause a—

“Now, can we go to the infirmary? I don’t like talking to the nurse on my own.”

“You—”

Oh, what the hell.

Ace doesn’t get it at all, he wishes Yu would have stood up for himself, but fine. That stupid bruise won’t heal itself.

—

III.

To call the Mostro Lounge boring would be inaccurate. With a bustling population of both students and employees at most times of the day, there’s always some entertainment to be had for Jade. Especially when he’s on the job, serving drinks and handling disputes.

But, well… That isn’t to say he minds when there’s a bit of additional drama. Especially on the day when Azul has asked Yuhua to cover someone’s shift.

CRASH!

An Ignihyde student shoves the TA, although it looks like a mere accident—a rush to get back to his well-earned seat after using the bathroom. Consequently, the drinks for their table are spilled… all over Yuhua, who’s been knocked to the ground.

“What the hell?!” demands the student. “You clumsy little bitch—those were our drinks!”

Stunned, Yuhua is frozen, staring at the fallen drinks in shame. “I—”

Oh, dear. There’s a bit of a berth forming around them, multiple people craning their heads to look at the source of the shouting, but Jade can get a good look even from this distance.

“I can’t believe this.” The student continues to go on a tirade, complaining about the service, about whoever let Yuhua work—and finishes off with, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Oh my—what arrogance.

Jade is rather certain, actually, that this Pomefiore student was one of many who had been turned into anemones by Azul just a few weeks ago. It seems that he’s painfully unaware of how much Yuhua had sacrificed to save his sorry hide, however.

And Jade is certain that the same thought is running through Yuhua’s mind right now, although he can’t quite see his face. The TA digs his long nails into the fabric of his pants, a clear sign of suppressing anger.

Oh, dear~ Perhaps, it’s time for Jade to extend a helping hand—

Instead of fighting back, Yuhua lets out a soft sigh that blows his bangs out of his face. The action reminds Jade something of a popped balloon.

“Sorry,” the pitiful TA replies, finally raising his head. His expression is neutral despite the remaining redness of his cheeks. “I’ll take care of it. You’ll be rightfully compensated for this.” Said a bit despairingly, resigned.

It seems to appease the student, who grumbles a little more before sitting back down.

Yuhua’s lips set into a thin line for a moment. He gets himself back onto his feet, only kneeling down again to collect the fallen drink glasses and tray. The other waiters make a respectful, awkward space around him as they walk by.

How… disappointing. Jade would have anticipated more of a fight, based on not only certain rumors but also what he had seen during Azul’s Overblot, but it seems Yuhua hadn’t quite reached the boiling point just now. Instead, he’d settled for people-pleasing.

If it were me, thinks Jade with a pleasant smile on his face, I wouldn’t have let that ungrateful anemone escape with all his teeth and joints intact.

But in any case—

“Do you need any assistance?” he asks, approaching Yuhua.

He gets a surprised look for his troubles, and a rejection. “No, it’s okay…” Yuhua smiles, laughing it off. “The customer’s always in the right, right? I’ll handle it myself.”

Having been brushed off, Jade simply watches as Yuhua scurries back over to the kitchen counter.

Hmm. I wonder if he’s simply playing the long game, then…

—

IV.

Of all the places that Jamil usually expects to hear arguing, the library ranks last. Generally. Not that it’s always free from arguing, but that’s probably on him for having even the slightest faith in NRC students.

Speaking of which, that’s exactly what he hears when he enters the library one day after classes: arguing. It’s coming from behind a shelf, so Jamil has to guess who it is based on voice alone.

“Please quiet down.” That’s… Crewel’s assistant, Yuhua. “Crewel needs me to borrow this, okay?”

“Uh, hello? Are you not good enough to be his assistant, or something? I need it more. So just hand it over already.”

Jamil stifles a sharp, stressed inhale. That’s a Scarabia student, no doubt—one of his former roommates. Ugh. And just when he thought he could skirt by without having to get involved. What a way to reflect poorly on our whole dorm…

He creeps around the side of the shelf, and what he sees confirms his well-educated guess. A student with a maroon armband towers over Yuhua, who holds a rather thick textbook in hand. The student’s back is to Jamil, but Yuhua’s expression is still visible…

Wait a minute. What the hell? Is… Is Yuhua glaring at the taller guy?

Jamil recalls a conversation he’d had with Ace just the other day: Ace had been in such a hurry to get out of practice that he’d caused multiple… inconveniences for others.

“Yu’s gonna kill me if I’m late for studying!” was his excuse.

“Why are you so scared of Yuhua?” Jamil had asked. Even though Yuhua had been… present, for his Overblot, he still didn’t quite get the control the TA seemed to have over the freshmen.

“You don’t get it, man,” Ace had said. “I almost pissed myself the first time Yu got seriously mad at me. You don’t think anything’s happening because he’s just narrowing his eyes at you, but it’s like toggling a lightswitch. He gets violent out of nowhere.”

At the time, Jamil had shrugged it off with his normal amount of skepticism. Even though he had proved himself able to be as two-faced and cruel as any other student in this school (Jamil never, in his life, wanted to be on the receiving end of the full Octavinelle trio’s scheming again), Yuhua still seemed too… docile. Too naturally passive to be like that when angry. It wasn’t the first time Ace had exaggerated, either.

But now, he’s seeing all the warning signs Ace had mentioned. How Yuhua is narrowing his eyes like an irked cat. If he allows this to continue, then—Oh, great. A fight. In the library, no less. Another problem he’ll have to clean up because it’s his dorm’s student who likely started this mess and will inevitably get into trouble.

With a long-suffering sigh, Jamil steps forward to intervene—

“...Okay, fine,” Yuhua concedes, although it’s a bit of a reluctant grumble. He holds out the textbook instead of bashing it over the student’s head like Jamil had expected him to.

A scoff. “See? Wasn’t that hard.”

“...Right.” Yuhua turns as the student walks away, so his expression is unreadable.

Huh.

Jamil stares blankly for a few moments. That… did not go as he expected, at all.

So much for ‘explosive anger,’ really. Yuhua had just given up.

Well, whatever. Jamil will just chalk it up to Ace’s overdramatic nature and think nothing of it. As long as it was resolved peacefully without needing him to risk grey hairs…

—

When Vil calls for a rare water break, Rook takes the opportunity to observe the NRC Tribe’s stiffest fledglings.

Today, again, they’ve taken on pirouettes in a corner where they can still see the mirror. Certainly, it makes for quite a sight: the normally-withdrawn TA trying to instruct two freshmen who have likely never seen a true ballet performance in their lives.

Rook had known Yuhua had a history in dance and music from the start—there was a clear lift to his chin and in his posture when he didn’t feel insecure, holding himself high and sitting on the edge of every seat. He walked with a slight turnout, and was light on his feet; not to mention the controlled expressiveness of his hands. However, the TA didn’t seem to enjoy flaunting these facts, making moments like these all the more enjoyable.

“Epel.” Yuhua frowns, a little soft and yet a little frustrated. “Are you trying?”

The Pomefiore freshman bites the inside of his lower lip. “Uh, well…”

A sigh. “That’s about what I thought. Vil and I aren’t asking much: just a clean single so you can master the basics.” Yuhua crosses his arms. “Is something on your mind?”

“I just…” Epel grimaces. “I still don’t get it. What’s so manly about any of this turning?”

Ah, there it is again.

Rook does not intervene, continuing to observe, even though he can see Yuhua’s eyes briefly twitch into narrowing and his lips press into a strained smile. Any dancer would start to lose it after yet another generalization of their field, especially an ignorantly derogatory one. After multiple generalizations, in fact.

Like any trained performer, however, he smooths it down. That self-control is beautiful in its own right, no matter how strained.

“Manly, huh…?”

Epel yelps as Yuhua, deceptively calm, grabs his arm to adjust it.

“Your elbows are too stiff. Don’t interrupt the line; make them look round and effortless.” A tap to Epel’s back. “Don’t lean forward when you plié, you’re not about to break into a sprint; if your pelvis isn’t under you, then you’ll be off-balance when you turn.” And then, a nudge to the underside of Epel’s chin. “Don’t look at the ground. Look at yourself in the mirror. Keep your chin level so you can spot properly.”

The foundational advice is given almost clinically, automatically. Rook watches with keen interest as Yuhua withholds the same kind of scathing strictness Vil would have easily dished out, even though this must be the second or third time he’s had to say these things to Epel.

“Deuce,” Yuhua asks levelly, “did you hear everything I just said?” To the trained ear, it sounds like a test, an I am on my last straw so there is only one correct answer here.

Thankfully, one of his students is more eager to learn than the other. “Yes!” is the earnest reply from the two of spades, who is already adjusting his posture after listening with the utmost dedication.

“Thank you.” Yuhua turns back to Epel. “We don’t have a lot of time. Just focus on improving for the SDC, okay?”

Epel bristles at being treated like a child, but nods.

A smile spreads across Rook’s face. Ahh, the liveliness of a dancer and his mentees at work…

“Rook.” Vil’s voice snaps him out of his momentary reverie. “Let’s continue practicing.”

Right. Duty calls.

“Of course~”

—

VI.

By now, Floyd had noticed, most people were learning to steer clear of starting shit with Yu. On top of him making more friends, on top of the (true) rumors that he’d Overblotted, most people had probably just accepted his presence.

(It also probably helped that Floyd regularly finds great joy in standing behind Yu and scaring off anyone who tried to be a problem.)

But, even then…

Some people don’t take the hint.

Floyd doesn’t know how or why it started, only that when he walks into the courtyard of the main school building, there’s someone yelling at Yu like it’s his Seven-given right. It’s so loud, like a dog’s yapping. So annoying.

Bark, bark, bark. Floyd doesn’t listen to the full thing because it’s not worth his time, but it feels like it goes on for forever. To the point where people are gathering like it’s some kind of show, heads turning.

What a serious mood killer. Maybe Floyd should get involved, start a fight. Let everyone have a piece of this idiot. It doesn’t look like Yu will: he’s just standing there, silent, suffering quietly like he usually would.

“What’s wrong, cat got your tongue?” taunts the nasally little offender. Of course, he’s the worst breed of coward—only able to say these things once Yu is on his lonesome. “No one’s here to defend you now, huh? Aren’t you gonna say something?”

Silence.

“Well?”

“Haaah…” Yu closes his eyes. “I’m seriously sick of your shit.”

“Huh—”

That’s the only thing the yapper can get out before Yu grabs him by the face. His fingers dig into the person’s cheeks, the palm of his hand conveniently muffling any complaints. If looks could kill, he’d be a murderer.

“Didn’t you hear me the first time? I said I’m sick and tired of your bullshit!” Yu shouts. He angrily tightens his grip. “Listen, buddy, I don’t know who the hell you think you are—I don’t know who half the people at this school think they are—but someone needs to humble you, desperately. Have you heard yourself?”

His voice reaches a high, mocking pitch: “Ohhh, no! There’s a magicless person at my school, but I think I deserve to be hot shit because I can make a few pathetic sparks with my magic! I’m gonna pick on him to assert my nonexistent dominance because I think he looks like a weak doormat!

“Yeah, well, womp fuckin’ womp. Being chosen by the Dark Mirror doesn’t mean anything. You’re just a copy-and-paste of every other small fry I’ve met at this school. Ego in the clouds, even though your performance is so bad that you reek of failed contracts and the threat of being held back. Am I right?” Yu scoffs without waiting for an answer. “Grow the fuck up already. Aren’t you embarrassed? Don’t you have any respect for anyone?”

He lets go with a shove, pushing the previously-confident person to the ground. Yu’s heel finds a nice spot to rest on the student’s chest and send a message.

“Do us all a favor and actually have the bite to back up your bark next time. You’re making a fool out of yourself.”

And even after yelling like that, Yu walks away like it’s nothing.

Oh, Sea Witch. Floyd feels ready and raring to kick ass again.

That was great.

—

(bonus:

Riddle has no idea how he ended up in this situation, but here he is. Having ended up next to Floyd, watching Yuhua curse a student out.

For good reason, of course. But Riddle didn’t even know that the TA had that in him.

“...Well.” Riddle turns to leave—that’s enough of enjoying the ‘show’ for today. He makes to weave his way out of the crowd that’s gathered, but something makes him pause. He looks up.

There’s a dumb, dopey, lovestruck look on Floyd’s face. That’s the only way Riddle can think to describe his smile, mismatched eyes following after the exiting Yuhua.

…what can he even say in this situation? Riddle stifles an embarrassed grimace and walks away.)

#kai's writing #twst oc #yuusona #shitpost #<- maybe???#anyway this was uh. Definitely the fic of all time lol #you guys might remember darren as an npc i had in a different fic #i loooove adding in 2D cameo chars it's my guilty pleasure #go forth and be an annoying plot device!#yuhua is sick of having to repeat the same lecture and it shows LMFAO #at least this time he didn't apologize after #the doc title for this was 'youre cooked buddy'

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dropoutfailure · 4 months ago

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Would absolutely love to hear more about mishka and gus? Like anything really. Maybe you could explain the timeline of how their story happens (i love that kind of thing) or just tell me something you find interesting about them or just ramble whats on your mind?

I'm excited to answer, but are YOU excited for the wall of text you're about to see?? I probably overthought and revised this answer for way too long. these OCs have wayyyy too much lore and backstory which I might draw at some point. eventually.

backstory in short:

Mishka is a 22yo depressed lonely college dropout NEET trans guy. he's in love with his dad, bc he can't connect to new people easily, and his dad's the only one who has just always been there for him, unconditionally.

his 45yo dad Gustav is a woodworking teacher. a single father who's doing his best. caring, and maybe even lenient with his precious son. he does not reciprocate though. at first.

backstory in long:

so basically Mishka was doomed from the start. his mom was not good at being a mother (violent) and gave him childhood trauma. she left eventually, and dad became a single father when Mishka was 7-9. he comes out as a trans boy in his teens, 14-15. his dad is accepting but his school is not. he makes no permanent connections in 12 years of being in school. just internet friends.

Mishka drops out of college at 22 because of many problems piling up there (adhd, loneliness, misunderstandings, transphobia) and overwhelming him for months. he breaks down in the middle of his last year of undergraduate (he probably could've weathered the storm and finished...), gives up, drops out, goes home and holes up in his room, in his dad's apartment...

Mishka developed a crush on his dad while halfway through college, at around 21 yeard old, but thought he'd get over it and not feel that way anymore when he got back home. lol. lmao.

when dad hugs him after he gets off the train, that notion quickly disappears.

at first he tries to hide it. he doesn't want his dad to hate him. Gustav is happy to see him again, and can tell something's bothering his son, but can never get a straightforward answer. he's worried.

confession scene comic drafts:

eventually, after a month of being back home, Mishka says "fuck it, I've already fucked up my life, I'm already a social outcast, I'm already a garbagefire, I have nothing to lose, I'll tell my dad and either he feels the same or he disowns me!!"

(here, I'll add some sketches I've made for the confession scene. amongst other sketches.)

Mishka confesses kinda hopeful (delusional) that maybe his dad might feel the same.

...but dad does NOT feel the same... he takes some time to process what he just heard.

Mishka is red in the face, sweating, panicking, tearing up bc this is humiliating and painfully awkward and he "should not have told him, should have taken it to the grave!! fuuuuuck"

Gustav is confused and concerned. it doesn't register until he asks again and Mishka's like "this is humiliating enough, don't make me say it again...."

(I need to work out the dialogue here I think..... Gus doesn't disown him, he's extremely uncomfortable with the idea, but ALSO doesn't want to reject Mishka!! he's at a loss and doesn't know how to respond so he's like "it's late, I need some time to think, let's talk about this tomorrow")

he loves his son. but not like that.

(extra long post and more sketches under the Keep Reading)

and then there's an awkward moment / fake-out where Mishka may or may not have been aiming for a kiss. dad turns that down real fast though, uncomfortable. Mishka fears this may have just caused a permanent rift between them, that they can never be affectionate again, and begs him to forget the whole thing.

Gustav can tell that Mishka's gonna be agonizing over this (oh, Gus is too. but doesn't want to double the panic here*) and tells his son to not hurt himself. (Mishka tends to pull at his hair and scratch his skin up to release emotion)

*main things on Gustav's mind: since he's a teacher, he would not only get fired, but hunted for sport if he was actually in an illicit relationship with his son, so he really doesn't want to even entertain the idea. especially since he already feels like he's on thin ice at his workplace - he's good at his job, but it's an open secret that he's "gay" (he's not even gay, he's bi!!)

they retreat to their rooms to turn in for the night. Mishka writes to his bestie Kaito who's the only one he talks to about his feelings for his dad (strangers on the internet and people who took his incest vagueposting as a joke don't count haha).

Gus looks to the internet for any advice on this situation he never expected to be in as a father. "wtf do I do when my own flesh and blood, my own son, half my age, is in love with me, romantically? and maybe sexually?? how do I turn him down without hurting his feelings" he somehow phrases it in such a way that he mostly gets porn results, which is the opposite of what he's looking for! XD it's a very popular porn category and that makes him feel even worse.

here's another WIP I'm trying to work on about this scene. the confession, plus a moment when Gus remembers fearing homophobia in his teen years, but confessing to a classmate regardless (he's bi but most people assume he's either gay or straight)... and immediately shuts it down, thinking to himself "wait that's not even remotely the same thing!! s-some things are societally unacceptable with good reason!"

I'm just trying to work out the dialogue more, to better show Gustav's confusion, apprehension, empathy and an attempt at a gentle rejection.

afterward, they try to go on as normal but now that it's out there, Mishka gets bolder with his affection. and gets reprimanded. occasionally. Gustav's body welcomes the touch, but Gus himself is not happy with this for a multitude of reasons!!!! it's ok, he gets over his incest aversion. he may have felt some sort of way about Mishka's scruffy facial hair and deeper voice when he saw him again for the first time in half a year, but chalked it up to aesthetic appreciation? "what the hell, my son's grown so much... he's so cute... uh, objectively."

they got some mutual desperation and loneliness going on, they're perfect for each other.

I like this fragile and uncertain time in their life and relationship the most so I draw it the most. guilty and hesitant indulgence in forbidden fruit... typical will-they-wont-they situation. but it's like they-probably-shouldnt. but they will.

thanks for asking!! 💘 hope this has been an interesting read. glad you like my characters. :) if this caused more questions than answers, feel free to ask more about them!

#dadson ocs #sorry it's like barely about the backstory #just the details of the confession scene. I want to finish the sketches and make it a comic #ocs #dadson #shipcest #mishka and gus #dead dove #dadcest #mishka aka august #gustav #writing #long post #sketch #wip #info #ask

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asirensrage · 3 months ago

Text

Saudade - chapter 12

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Mikey x OC, Hanma x OC, Ran x OC, Mikey x OC x Draken Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Warnings: swearing, violence, threats of violence, murder, smoking, sex, consensual sex between teenagers, alcohol, recreational drug use, mention of trafficking, torture, family neglect, mentions of sexual violence. isekai OC. memory loss. unbeta’d **warnings are not exhaustive** Summary: No one seems to realize she doesn’t belong until she finally runs into her “new” brother, Hanagaki Takemichi. Now, hearing his story, Takara makes the choice to help him and hopefully find her way home, but faking it til you make it only lasts so long when you start losing the memories of the life you had before. As Takemichi becomes the only family she’s ever known, how far will she go to protect him?

notes: I'm having a ridiculous week filled with a series of "if it can go wrong, it will go wrong." So I've decided to entertain myself by posting the next chapter. I hope you all like it and that it gives you a small bright spot in your day <3

also on ao3

fic masterlist - prev chapter

The first problem shows up at school.

Takara is wearing her uniform and heading to sit with some of her classmates to eat when she’s approached. The two boys coming up to her aren’t wearing a school uniform which is the first sign something is wrong. She’s not used to people approaching her during class. Most of the gangsters she knows never make it to high school or, like her brother, are still in middle school. Still, she hears the whispers and sees the fear in her classmates’ eyes when they stop behind her.

“Hanagaki.”

She shoves a piece of egg in her mouth before she gets up and turns to face them. “What?” She looks them over quickly. They’re wearing some gang uniform she’s never seen before and grinning down at her like she’s an easy target.

“You’re coming with us.”

“The fuck I am,” she says once she swallows what she’s eating. She hears someone gasp behind her, likely at her language. “I don’t know who you are or what you want. I’m not going anywhere with you.” They’re not that much taller than her, nothing near the size of Draken or Hanma, but they try to intimidate her.

“You think you’re being given a choice?”

“I think you better back the fuck up before you get hurt.”

They laugh and Takara tightens her grip on the chopsticks she’s still holding. Takemichi’s warning of what happened to the guy’s girlfriend echoes in the back of her mind. Her aunt told her to use anything at her disposal if she ever needed to. They all seem to forget that Takara doesn’t care about being a problem. Not if she needs to be.

One of them reaches forward, grabbing the front of her uniform shirt and yanking her towards them. “You come quietly or by force. It's your choice.”

Takara smiles at them widely. “My choice?” She stabs the chopsticks down into the hand holding her shirt as hard as she can before using her leg to force him out of her space. He yells in pain and she hears people sounding shocked around her, but she focuses on the two boys. The other one reaches for her, but Takara is short and flexible. She drops herself down, sliding across the bench she’s sitting on under his arm and punches as hard as she can into his groin. He bends forward instantly, swearing at her. She takes the chance of the opening and runs like hell.

They run after her.

She doesn’t stop, even as they swear and hurl insults as they chase. They’re taller than her, but she’s still faster and knows her school. She needs a plan. Especially because if she lets this slide, it’s just going to create an opening for them to come back or for others to take this same chance.

She diverts her course and heads for where the sports equipment is held. The shed is unlocked and she grabs a baseball bat. It’s becoming a familiar weight in her hands at this rate.

Takara tucks herself up on a ledge and waits. They’ll expect her to be low. She waits until they open the door and step into the room before she slams the bat down on his head. His friend doesn’t follow and when he falls to his knees, she climbs down. She brings the bat down again. And again. And again.

Blood sprays from the hits, staining her uniform.

“You came to fuck me up, huh?” she asks. “How’s it fucking feel?” She hits him one more time, knocking him unconscious. She stands there, panting. For a second, she thinks she’s killed him, but she sees him breathing.

She takes the bat with her and by the time she takes two steps out of the storage room, the other one shows up. He stops at the sight of her.

“You kill him?”

“No,” she says, staring at him. “Not yet at least. Probably needs a hospital.”

“Who the fuck helped you?”

“What makes you think I need help? I warned you.” She shifts her stance slightly. “I’ll give you a choice. Better one than you gave me. You can try to come after me and end up like your friend, or you can take him and get the fuck out of here. The next person who comes to my fucking school is going to end up dead. You can pass that message on.” She stares at him and waits.

He moves past her slowly, eyeing the bat in her hands before he opens the door to the room she vacated. She hears him swear and ask his friend if he’s okay. Takara can feel her hands starting to shake but she shoves the feeling down.

There are voices of what sounds like one of the teams coming towards them. Takara does the only thing she can. She flees. Bat still in hand, covered in blood, Takara runs as fast as she can, wishing she was in her blades so that she could go faster.

She ducks out the back of the school gate and thinks she catches sight of Hanma walking towards the building. He stops as he sees her but she keeps going. She’s covered in too much evidence for the chaos about to be found by the sports team. Everyone saw her get approached by them.

“Princess, stop!”

She keeps going. She can’t stop. She can’t stop until she’s far from here. Until--until something grabs her wrist. She swings automatically but Hanma blocks the hit with his other arm. She stares at him, gaze unfocused until he yanks her closer.

“Takara!”

She jolts, looking up at him finally before she scowls and automatically pulls herself back. “Don’t fucking touch me!” She glances around, looking for more people following her.

“What the fuck happened?!” he asks, looking her over.

“I got– I got fucking jumped at school. Let go.” He doesn’t look surprised at the news and it pisses her off more. Takara narrows her eyes as she feels herself start to shake. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.”

She steps back, away from him. She can’t…he feels overwhelming and too close and she’s still holding the bat and too close to the school and is he still alive–

“Princess,” he cuts in, “fucking breathe.” He holds up the cigarette in his hand and slowly places it in her mouth. “Inhale.”

She doesn’t know why she listens. She closes her mouth over the cigarette and inhales. The taste is awful and she starts coughing before she can inhale deeply. He grins and takes the cigarette out.

Takara bends over, trying to catch her breath. “What the fuck?” Her eyes are watering and she glares up at Hanma. He takes a drag of the cigarette as he grins down at her. In the back of her mind, it registers as an indirect kiss.

“Stopped you from freaking out, didn’t it?” he asks. “Want to try again?”

She straightens and looks at him, hand tightening on the bat. “I need to get out of here.”

“Come on,” he nods. “Here.” He hands her the cigarette again and holds out a hand for the bat.

She takes the smoke but doesn’t give up her weapon. She inhales slower this time, weirdly more cognizant of what she’s doing.

“You don’t have to hold it, just breathe,” he says.

“Fuck off,” she mutters as she starts to walk. It feels weird to smoke. It’s keeping her grounded but there’s a warning alarm in the back of her mind. As though she’s going to be killed by her mother or her brothers if they ever find out. Smoking ruins your lungs. It ruins your ability to…to…race. But her mother here doesn’t give a shit. Her parents here barely look at her and she only has the one brother.

She takes another drag.

“You look sexy smoking.”

“Fuck off,” she repeats. She drops the cigarette on the ground and stomps it out before picking up speed. She has to figure out what to do. “God damn it,” she mutters, rubbing her free hand over her face.

“So who was it?” Hanma asks, still walking next to her.

She ignores him. Her hands are trembling and all she wants is to get in the shower and go to bed. She’s going to have to go back to that school. They’re going to know. Fuck, what if they call home? She snorts. Then again, maybe that’ll force her parents to actually talk to her. To remember they have more than just a son.

“Can I have another one?” she asks, finally looking at him.

He grins at her, moving slightly forward to face her and walking backwards. “You want another smoke? Tell me who jumped you.”

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask for names.” She looks around, half expecting someone else to jump out like it was some stupid game and she was going to have to level up. Again. “They showed up at lunch and wanted me to follow them. Thought I was some easy fucking target.”

“You kill ‘em?”

“He was still breathing when I left.”

He laughs at that before flinging his arm over her shoulders. She moves without thinking, raising the bat and flipping it in her hand before jabbing it into his side. He lets out a huff of air, bending over with the makeshift gut punch she lands.

“Don’t touch me,” she snarls. “Fuck.” She still feels like the world is starting to close in around her. She can’t go home. Can’t let her parents or brother see her like this. Takemichi would freak out and her parents…maybe they wouldn’t even notice.

She can’t stay here with Hanma haunting her steps. If she even asked for his help, she’d be under his thumb a lot faster than she wanted. Under Kisaki’s control. Especially if he caught the evidence of this. She needs to get out of here. Fast. “Hanma. Go back to the school and tell me what’s happening. ”

“You ordering me?”

“You want me near you? Do this. Then we’ll talk.”

“I want a kiss,” he tells her, leaning down so his face is by hers. “A fucking proper one. Got it?”

Shit. Takara rolls her eyes. “Sure, if you can handle the fact I might throw up on you.”

“I’ll take the chance.” He straightens and looks around. “Wait for me, princess. I’ll get you the information you want.”

“Prove it.”

He winks at her and grins before strolling away. He doesn’t seem concerned about the fact she might run. It isn’t like he can’t find her if he wants. Especially with her connection to Toman.

Takara continues walking, not pretending that she’ll sit around and wait. Once they’re both out of sight, she runs as fast as she can. She’s had years of training, years of building her endurance for the various activities her own parents forced her into. He won’t catch up.

⛸️

When she finally feels safe enough, far enough away from her school, Hanma and everything that waits for her behind. The people she passes on the street avoid her, mothers moving their children out of the way. She needs to get out of here but her options are few. If she calls Mikey or Draken, they might force her to change her choice. If she calls her brother…he’s going to have a panic attack. There’s no one else. No one who won’t–except…

She moves the bat to her other hand, wondering where she actually is before she clicks on a contact. The phone rings twice before there’s an answer.

“Been wondering when you’d call for that date.”

“I…I need a favour…”

tag list: @raith-way @zeleniafic @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse

@themaradwrites @kingsmakers @thatmagickjuju @awkwardchick87 @hayatoseyepatch

tr tag: @mitsuwuyaa @blackfire2013 @bleach-your-panties @reiners-milkbiddies

saudade tag: @thisbicc @scythegal @maraya-007

network tag: @pixelcafe-network

#fic: saudade #oc: takara #tokyo revengers fanfic #tr fic #tokyorev oc #tokyo revengers oc #tr oc #sano manjiro x oc #hanma shuji x oc #haitani ran x oc

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atenea14 · 5 months ago

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In the Wake of Heroes: Prologue

Soulmates AU

Masterlist

Pairing: Katsuki x Eijiro x Shoto x Izuku x OC (not physically described though)

Warnings: Season 7 spoilers, events of the anime not represented accurately, soulmates AU, slow burn, not beta read, nothing else for now.

A/N: Hi! I’m updated with the anime, not with the manga so possible spoilers for season 7. I don’t really know where this fic will go but I wanted to write something with Katsuki x Eijiro x Shoto x Izuku x Reader and couldn’t decide between abo or soulmates AU and between school setting or professional setting, I also couldn’t decide which character should I pick but why not all?. I’ve decided to do a soulmates AU with an original character and start in the school setting.

The plot starts at season 7, there will be spoilers but I’m making up most of the events to be able to fit my character.

Word count: 1,6k

- We will arrive in 30 minutes at the air coffin. Are you sure you want to do this? - She looks at one of the special agents that are accompanying her.

- What else am I supposed to do? Do I need to remind you of all the pressure you’ve put me in? - Turning back her shoulders she puts on headphones. The rest of the adults look at her with worrying glaces but no one else says anything yet the music seems to calm her.

I can do this, my singularities have been cause of discordance in all my life but today they will be useful. I can do it, I need to. I’ve been explained how my power can counter attack the disintegration of Shigaraki. I don’t need to be this sca… I’m totally freaking out. HOW THE FUCK I’M I GOING TO DO THIS? I wish I was like Star. I wished she was here to fight with me.

- Minus 20 minutes. - The same agent as before, Mike, puts a hand on her shoulder, taking her out of her thoughts.- I’m… I want to say I’m sorry but I don’t think I have the right to do so. I know you’ve never wanted to be a hero, just anonymously work in intelligence but you have a good base training and your quirk gives you a chance… and we are desperate. - He puts his head between his legs and covers it up with his arms. The girl stares at him and after some long seconds starts to slowly caress his back.

- Actually… I want to do this, it’s my country too you know?- The agent raises an eyebrow while looking at her.

- I thought you didn’t want to set foot again in Japan- The girl just sighs.

- There’s a difference between not wanting to come back and wanting it destroyed.- The agent stares at her trying to decipher her but failing. - Anyway the plan is easy, I intercept Shigaraki and give that hero guy the chance to go fight the no face evil man I give my all and pray for my soul. - Some chuckles are heard in the helicopter while the captain approaches her.

- No Saya, you give your all and if it gets too much you call for extraction.- Saya snorts.

- And then what? I let that zombie looking guy kill the heroes there?-

- You are not a hero Saya, nor have you been training to be.- She frowns and suddenly gets up.

- No, I’ve always wanted to be a detective, old style but that doesn’t make me any less than the rest of the people fighting.-

- That’s not what I meant…-

- It is exactly what you meant. Plus how am I going to enter the interpol if I coward in the middle of a fight?-

- It is not any fight Saya, it wouldn’t affect your future.-

- No, but today’s public exposition surely will.- Some agents sigh in desperation.

- It won’t be as bad as you think, but you’re too stubborn to believe it.-

- Enough.- Mike stops it before it gets more heated. - It’s not time for this, we are arriving and we need to have our heads cool.- Easy for you to say, you're not the one who’s entering a place called coffin with a psycho.

- Opening the jumpgate. Prepare.- The pilot’s voice surprises everybody, Saya takes a deep breath before putting on a determined face.

- I’ll proceed as planned, try and not to die without me guys. -

- You’re not the one that should be saying it.- Mike pets her and gives her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. Saya smiles at him and nods to the captain, who nods back. Then she just gives a really bright smile to everybody and let's herself fall backwards through the gate.

- See you!-

- That kid is going to provoke me a heart attack someday. -

Saya’s POV

Should have not jumped like that. Well… who cares. I see the hole in the barrier, that’s it, I’m entering. Once I take in everything that’s inside this floating enclosure I get breathless. It should have been caused by all the chaos, because of the destruction and all the fallen heroes… but no. I get breathless because of a couple of green eyes that look at me as if they had seen a ghost… Not surprising given the fact that my arrival hasn’t been notified.

- YOU NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE - How intense, my heart beats a hundred miles a minute, he has scared me.

- Chill, you’ve scared me!-

- YOU’VE SCARED ME!- Oh my, I got so anxious at the helicopter that now I’m numb, I should focus more.

- There’s no time to explain but I’m here to fig - A chain of hands appears out of nowhere and tries to smash me as if I were a fly. Luckily I’m able to dodge it but since the green eyed guy tried to save me we collapse mid air and get destabilized.

- MORE EXTRAS, I hate you. - Everybody is shouting in here, is this normal in group fights?

- You have good reflexes. - His voice brings my attention again to him and realise that he’s holding me princess style. He grabbed me when we collided, my heart warms and I cannot understand why. While he is busy dodging Shigaraki’s attacks I use the opportunity to speak.

- You need to go fight All for One, I’ll stay here and end Shigaraki. - He looks at me in astonishment.

- That was not the plan!-

- Things have changed, I’ll make an opening for you to run, use the opportunity.-

- What? But I have been purposefully brought here I…- Luckily the heroes outside intervene, with communications open again It’ll be easier for everybody to catch up. - Okay, are you sure you’ll be able to fight him?- I mischievously smirk at him.

- Don’t you know? I have good reflexes. - He chuckles and I jump out of his arms ignoring how his presence affects me. Shigaraki has been throwing a tantrum all the time we’ve been speaking.

- One for All, what are you doing? It’s my time to kill you.- I activate my quirk and get in between the two of them. Suddenly his attacks get interrupted, the chain of hands stops proliferating.

- Hello! I’ll be the one playing with you know. -

- You’ll need to hang on for 5 seconds

- Ah??? Damned extra. ONE FOR ALL. - Shigaraki launches himself at Deku while tries to smash me again, but fails. I use the fact that he isn’t paying attention to me and concentrate my quirk at my punch, I teleport myself in Shigaraki’s face and punch him. Surprising nobody he avoids my attack, yet his attention is now focused on me and I start playing a game of attack and dodge with him. These are the 5 longest seconds of my life, but Deku needs them to be teleported.

I momentarily focus on an unconscious guy in the ground, he looks my age… is he dead? What a great moment for my numbness to subside. Seeing the results of the destruction makes my anxiety turn back tenfold.

- YOU!… IS YOUR FAULT HE LEFT- Shigaraki’s rage is now completely focused on me makes him focus all his attacks, his speed seems to increase by the second, or I’m getting slower. A leg suddenly kicks him and gives me a little bit of breath, I look at my side and realise it’s Mirko.

The next few minutes pass by in a blurr, I need to communicate with the rest of the present heroes but I don’t have the chance. At least not until a blasting explosion shakes the whole place up. I’m not going to miss the chance. Pressing my ear intercommunicator I speak.

- I need to pass a message to the rest of the present heroes. -

- Proceed. - A female voice replies to me.

- Due to my quirk Shigaraki won’t be able to regenerate if I fight hand-to-hand combat with him. I need your help, I can’t overpower him alone but if you create openings for me we will make it. - The female hero that stands watch outside passes my message to all the presents.

- OI! You sure of what you’re saying?- It’s the guy from before, the one I thought was dead. I speak to him while the game of dodge restarts.

- Positive!- He gives me a side glance but doesn’t hesitate.

- Let 's go then! -

The coordination and tenacity of the heroes here surprises me. It also surprises me their ability to trust me, a stranger. Without a doubt they all make their biggest efforts to allow me to approach him enough to attack him, and for once it pays off. I don’t know how much time has passed but Shigaraki finally gets weakened. Everything is a chaos and I’ve started merely reacting, the combat is extenuating but I won’t give up. The explosive guy is amazing, he’s the one who’s been making me possible to punch the devil and although it is the first time I’ve seen him we fall into rhythm easily, if it wasn't a fight to the death, I'd even enjoy it.

Time pass by in a blurr, I don’t know what’s happening outside and I don’t know why Deku is here again completely bruised up. He doesn’t give me a chance to ask anything, upon arriving kicks Shigaraki in the face and due to all the damage we’ve inflicted him it really affects him.

- Kacchan! Let’s do what we agreed! You! Punch him with everything you’ve got when I give you the signal!- The latter is addressed to me and I won’t be the one messing up. I concentrate my quirk at my maximum and once it is needed I attack him with all I have while Deku and the explosive guy also kick his ass. I don’t know what’s happened but suddenly everything hurts, more than it was already and I seem to be unable to keep my focus. Inevitably, the fall to the ground cuts off my breathing completely and I lose consciousness.

Final note: Sorry for the inaccuracy of the fight, I haven’t read the manga and don’t know how it really develops further than chapter 12 of season 7. I’ll completely make up the plot in the following chapters :)

Next chapter

#boku no hero #boku no hero oc #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #izuku midoriya #izuku x reader #deku x reader #kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijiro x reader #red riot #lord explosion murder god dynamight #mha dynamight #boku no hero x reader #boku no hero academia

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ymaohoh · 10 months ago

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'Rule 63' - Hellcheer Fic - Oneshot

Superstar athlete Chris Cunningham is struggling with nightmares and visions and goes to freaky Ellie Munson for relief. Rule 63' - Gender Swap - Hellcheer AU Basically a gender swap version of 'Chrissy Lives' Characters are kind of OC but not really. I've tried to keep them as character-based as possible but there had to be minor tweaks to make it realistic in the 80's. POV switches between characters.

Ellie is 19. Chris is 18. Really enjoyed writing this one. Let me know what you think and if I should do another chapter. Also on Archive. Word count: 9,322 Rated: No ratings, some swearing.

Setting: Hawkins High School

Date: 1986, baby

Introducing:

Ellie Munson, lead guitarist in amateur rock band Corroded Coffin, repeating her senior year again because she has crap grades and a rebellious streak. Her interests? Dungeons and Dragons (she runs the Hellfire Club as D&M and rules with an iron fist), listening to heavy metal at full volume with the car windows rolled down, and reading (and getting high to) The Hobbit, Dune, and other fantasy books which let her drift away. She was the school pariah because she didn’t play by the same rules - ‘a freak’ - and people just didn’t like her very much. The other students (and most of Hawkins) hissed she was a ‘bad influence’ - a junkie slut, trailer trash, juvenile delinquent - who would no doubt end up just like her shitty mom. Oh they were just waiting for the day she stumbled and proved them right.

Ellie wasn’t so sure - she was mean and scary, yes, and she played up the freak role at school because it made certain dickheads keep their distance - but she knew she wanted more out of life. This year she was getting her diploma and getting the fuck out of Hawkins and away from these small-minded hicks. They could literally kiss her ass.

Introducing:

Chris Cunningam, captain of the basketball team and hot-shot athlete with college scholarships coming out of his ears. His interests? Sports, tutoring (his grades were outstanding), and being a perfect all-round good guy who everybody simply fawned over. Guys were lining up to be his buddy and girls wanted to date him. You’d think he’d be this obnoxious douchebag but Chris stood out from his peers - he was kind, patient, always looking out for the little guy. Everyone knew Chris had the perfect future lined up for the taking (a stable high-earning job within his dad’s law firm, a big house with the white picket fence, a beautiful wife and children).

Chris wasn’t so sure - people didn’t want to see the real him - the guy who hated parties and crowds, who couldn’t do anything without his dad breathing down his fucking neck, who was so petrified of letting people down and not being perfect that it gave him panic attacks. Nobody asked him what he wanted to do after school and sometimes (just sometimes) he would let himself imagine a future away from Hawkins and all the stress.

Enter stage left:

Ellie was known to be the school dealer. She even had a system; people would drop a note in her locker with a time and place and she would meet them, easy peasy. Her rules? Cash only, not on a night when she had Hellfire, and absolutely no questions. She didn’t give a shit about why they wanted the weed or who they wanted to impress, she just wanted to get in and out with zero complications. Selling weed was not something she wanted to do forever but it meant she could save up for if - no, when - she graduated.

She couldn’t exactly get a normal job packing groceries because the whole town thought she was a good-for-nothing junkie who would steal from the tills rather than do an honest day’s labour, and she was too young to work in the factory with her aunt.

Some of the money went towards helping her aunt with the bills. Wendy took her in when she was still a kid and her parents split in the middle of the night without even a goodbye or see you later. Wendy was a confirmed spinster and worked a lot so Ellie often had the trailer to herself, but they made it work. She was nice, sturdy, calm; a good balance to Ellie’s puzzling inner chaos.

(she tried explaining to Mr Kelley about her crazy brain and how sometimes it wouldn’t let her focus but he just told her to lay off the pot, which to be fair wasn’t terrible advice overall).

So when Ellie arrived at school (late as usual) and found a neatly folded note in her locker she didn’t really give it much thought until she saw the initials at the bottom - C.C.

No fucking way…

But it had to be him because who else would write please and thank you in a drug note then the resident goody-two-shoes Chris Cunningham?

She only had one class with Chris - English (her worst and seemingly his best) - and he was different from the other douchebag jocks. He never once picked on her or called her a freak and even told the cheerleader Patty to lay off when she tried stealing her notes. He’d smiled and given her a little nod as to say ‘it’s cool’ and for a second he made her believe it. That was the thing about Chris: he was nice, he was kind, and he never told a lie.

(it was no wonder she struggled in that class, but she would rather die than tell judgy ol’ Mr O'Donnell about it).

Chris had a killer smile too - though his front tooth was slightly crooked (which somehow made it even better?) - and the bluest eyes she ever saw. He was also ripped. He must work out a lot because his arms looked like they could easily toss you over his strong shoulder or rip a phonebook in half. Not that she’d noticed, obviously, but the scribbles in the bathroom stalls went on and on about his muscles, his shoe size, his (perfect) butt. To her absolutely shame (and she would never ever admit it even under torture) she once imagined in class how nice it might be to be held by those arms. Ugh.

Sure she was an outcast and liked traditionally unfeminine pursuits, but she was still a girl. She had hormones and feelings and all the crazy stuff that made teenage years super fun.

(and yeah Chris had once cheered for her during a stupid talent contest in middle school but that was years ago and he was only being nice).

It would never happen, this wasn’t The Breakfast Club (Wendy loved these kinds of films - she would drag Ellie to the video rental place every weekend for a new one. Ellie liked Robin who worked there (he was pretty outlandish too) but former ‘It Girl’ Stacey was intimidating as fuck. She had no idea how the two were friends).

Chris was a solid 9 whereas she was a 3 on a good day if she stopped doing weird shit to her hair. He might be Emilio Estevez but she was no Ally Sheedy.

Even if she wanted to suddenly change her clothes and slap on some make up (seriously, what was that ending?), those big strong arms were busy hugging his actual girlfriend Jackie Carver (and carrying her books, opening doors for her, probably opening goddamn jars too). Jackie Carver was head cheerleader and the darling of the school. She was the perfect match for Chris in every conceivable way; church going, wholesome, sickeningly rich. Apart from the occasional teasing, the jocks tended to leave Ellie alone for the most part but the cheerleaders were another matter entirely. They loathed her - and to be fair, she hated them right back. Jackie was the ringleader and Ellie simply loved getting a rise out of her.

(this wasn’t hard to do; she only had to mention how she was joining a Satan-worshipping cult and little Miss Carver would hiss like an alley cat).

So yeah, in conclusion Chris was a good guy and the last person she would ever expect to ask for drugs. It almost made her want to break rule number three.

His note asked to meet at the abandoned picnic bench during lunch period which meant she had to wolf down her sandwich and get a move on. She told her little sheepies with a wink she had private business to attend to and left before they could give her any sass (Dusty was seriously showing too much attitude for her own good). Her bandmates only nodded, well used to her side-hustle.

As she walked through the trees she had a fleeting thought that this could be a prank or a set up. Were the cheerleaders waiting to jump her and steal her stash or tip another slushie down the front of her shirt? (that was a seriously shit day). Would Queen Bee Jackie be waiting instead of her prized King?

Ellie was too scrawny to be a fighter, but her dad had done at least one useful thing in teaching her how to throw a punch (when he still gave a shit) and she was scrappy. She could also read people and situations well. She kinda’ had to. As a girl dealer in 80’s Indiana it was crucial she could make speedy decisions on whether best to fight or fly.

She decided to run at the first sight of a green and orange pom pom.

And maybe a tiny part of her was quite interested to meet Cunningham alone in the woods.

Chris was going insane…or maybe not insane exactly, but he was definitely on the edge of some kind of nervous breakdown. His head was pounding and he was so damn tired from all the restless nights. He hadn’t felt this bad since freshman year when he was trying to beef up enough to make the team (months of eating nothing but carbs and protein shakes/constant calorie counting/early morning runs that made him want to puke his guts out).

He needed some kind of relief.

Painkillers did nothing and he wouldn’t go near his mom’s valium in case she noticed (though the odds of that were…yeah). He saw Mr Kelley at their weekly therapy sessions but it would sound so dumb if he started bringing up the strange ticking noises and dreams that seemed more like hallucinations. It was too dangerous anyway; he'd probably tell his coach who would then blab to his parents. Then he’d really get it in the neck. His parents hated anything out of the ordinary. He could already hear his dad calling him a punk, a loser, and an embarrassment.

“Chrissss,” he’d say, dragging it out like he always did when he was mad. “I’ve worked hard to give you and your sister everything. Now you want to wreck it all by crying about feelings like some girl? Get a grip, son. A real man knows who he is and what he wants out of life. Don’t let me down.”

In the end it was a teammate who suggested Ellie Munson. He told him about the note system too. He warned Chris that Ellie was creepy and to be careful, even if she did sell decent pot. She wasn’t the kind of girl you wanted to know.

He was anxious as hell as he walked to the meeting spot, and more so when he got there and saw…no one.

Damn. Had she not seen the note? Or maybe she just didn’t want to sell to him? He didn’t really know Ellie personally but being a high-school athlete came hand in hand with a certain…reputation. Perhaps she thought he was just another cliche dumb jock looking to make trouble?

(he knew the guys gave her a hard time and tried to intervene when he saw it. He hated bullies - they reminded him of his crappy dad - but yeah, he could probably do more if he was honest with himself. It was hard when Ellie basically gave the finger to anyone who even approached her though).

With a sigh, he decided to head back. This was all probably a bad idea anyway; he’d never even touched a joint before and if his parents or coach or Jackie found out they’d seriously kill him. His perfectly curated image would be in shatters.

And Jackie could be really cold when she wanted to be. It always made him feel like he was walking on eggshells.

But then Chris heard that creepy ticking noise again and he flinched back.

Then a snap.

He whirled around and came face to face with Ellie Munson, who held her hands up. “Woah…hey…sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. You okay?”

Chris nodded but he kept back. The ticking had stopped but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t start back up again. God, he really was going insane. He’d end up like Jack Nicholson in that creepy film with the white straight jackets at this rate.

Ellie sat down at the table and placed a black lunchbox next to her. “There's, uh... There's nothing to worry about. Okay? No one ever comes out here. We're safe. I promise.”

Chris looked at her properly. Ellie Munson was known about school to be wild and weird and most people avoided her. She looked weird in her black ripped jeans, leather jacket, and faded denim vest covered with band patches and pins. Even her leather boots were scuffed and way too big to belong to her. Her hair was wild too; an explosion of messy brown curls that fell to her waist with a knotted bandana (failing) to keep it away from her face. She didn’t wear makeup like Jackie but he noticed three heavy silver rings on her fingers (again, way too big for her). Her ears were heavily pierced and…yeah…one even had a safety pin through it.

He knew she liked to kick up a fuss in the cafeteria and make loud bizarre speeches about inequality and feminist rights, she never ever attended class (when she did she preferred to sleep in the back row), and could swear like a biker. She also protected a flock of freshmen like a mother hen. So yeah weird but she wore it well. She wore it in a way that proclaimed proudly she didn’t give a shit what other people thought about her, which was…actually pretty cool.

Ellie’s boldness and shere cheek should by all rights freak him out, but it didn’t. Instead he felt a strange twist of jealousy in his chest; he’d love to borrow that nerve and tell the people around him to leave him the hell alone.

So when she told him they were safe, he found himself believing her (even though she was like half his height and he definitely bench pressed heavier weights than her). Strange.

“So, how does this work exactly?” he asked, sitting down too.

“Oh, just like any other old sale, except, uh, cash only, and, uh, for obvious reasons, no receipts. I'll do you a half ounce for, uh... 20. What do you say? Plenty of bang for your buck. Should last a while.”

Another snap. He shuddered and rubbed his temples.

“Hey, uh, we don't need to do this. Just give me the word and I'll walk away. Okay?”

She was looking at him with something like real concern flashing in her brown eyes. He felt oddly touched. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone looked at him like that.

“It's not that. I don't want you to go. It's just…” he took a deep breath to steady himself. “Do you ever feel like you're losing your mind?”

He half expected her to leg it but to his surprise Ellie just grinned. Up close, he noticed a dimple in her left cheek which was pretty cute.

“Um, you know, just... on a daily basis. I feel like I'm losing my mind right now doing a drսg deal with Chris Cunningham, the King of Hawkins High.”

Chris could feel his cheeks burning - he hated being called that. That was all Jackie’s doing. She had big plans that they were going to be crowned at prom and then probably marry right out of school and…ugh. He was about to say so when Ellie went on…

“You know, this isn't the first time that we've, um... hung out.”

“I'm sorry. I…”

“That's okay.”

Before he could say another word, Ellie launched herself back off the table and he sprang to his feet to…help? Catch her? Check she was ok? But Ellie was grinning again and he found it so infectious that he smiled right back.

“I wouldn't remember me either, Chris. Honestly, do I have stuff in my hair?” she laughed. There were brown and gold leaves in her hair but instead of fixing it (like Jackie might’ve) she shook it out and seemed totally unfazed. “You don't remember me?”

“I’m sorry!” Chris laughed.

“Middle school, talent show? You were doing the basketball thing. You know, the... dribbling… thing you do. It was pretty cool, actually. And I... I was with my band.”

Then it hit him. “Corroded Coffin! Yes, of course. With a name like that, how could I forget?”

“I dunno. You're a freak.”

Ellie was beaming and Chris sat back down on the edge of the table to watch her. If anyone else called him a freak he might’ve been offended but Ellie said it like it was a badge of honour. Her dimple was back.

A vague memory of a tiny girl with patched dungarees holding a guitar suddenly came back to him. She’d been waiting to go out on stage with her friends, terrified and clearly falling to bits with nerves. Chris had smiled and wished her luck, and afterwards whooped and clapped so hard he thought his hands might fall off. His dad had ripped him to shreds for his own performance - but her little crooked smile and twinkling eyes stayed with him. “No, you just... You looked so... Different?”

“Yeah. Well, uh, my hair was shorter and I had braces, and I didn't have these sweet old tatties yet.”

She tugged at the neck of her shirt (with Hellfire written across the front) and he spotted a line of black ink just underneath her collarbone. He knew some girls got tattoos - not any of the girls he knew, of course - and Ellie implied she had more than one. He felt himself blush again when he realised he wanted to see more. Which would obviously be really inappropriate and creepy.

He was very aware of the fact they were all alone and he was significantly bigger than her, even if Ellie didn’t seem to notice. He dragged his gaze back to the safety of her face.

Thankfully his voice didn’t betray any of what he was feeling. “You played guitar, right?”

“Uh-huh. Still do. Still do. You should come see us. Uh, we play at The Hideout on Tuesdays. It's pretty cool. We... We actually get a crowd of about five drunks. It's not exactly the Garden, but you gotta start somewhere, right?”

He was surprised she was allowed to go to The Hideout at all with drunk guys - let alone to play in a band. Maybe her boyfriend went along to keep her safe? Chris didn’t even know her that well and he wanted to. “You know, you're not what I thought you'd be like.”

“Mean and scary?”

That’s what Jackie or his friends would say. “Yeah.”

“Yeah, well, I actually kinda thought you'd be kinda mean and scary too.”

He actually snorted at that. “Me?”

Ellie laughed and when she laughed she did it properly - lips wide, eyes bright, her head tossed back. It was so incredibly animated and warm and real that it made Chris want to huddle closer to her flame. She perched on the seat beside him and opened up the lunchbox.

“Terrifying. Uh, so, in other good news, flattery works with me, so... Twenty-five percent discount for the half. Fifteen bucks. You're robbing me blind here, you know.”

Oh right. Drugs. He’d almost forgotten. He’d enjoyed speaking to her so much (and watching her - she was more interesting to look at than anyone else he knew) that for a brief wonderful moment the ticking and spiders and nightmares vanished.

But they came back back now and he felt himself physically recoil.

“Do you have anything maybe stronger?”

He didn’t think anything shocked Ellie Munson, but that sure did.

Right. So perfect wholesome Chris Cunningham was sitting in her crappy van and they were driving back to her trailer.

He said he wanted something harder than weed and Ellie said yes but obviously didn’t keep that kind of thing at school. She offered to meet him the following day (same time, same place, even though it was a Saturday) but Chris had looked so serious when he asked if he could please possibly get it tonight after the game and her club meeting. She’d been too taken back by the intensity in his eyes to say anything other than yes, honestly. So they met later that evening by her van and he actually opened the door for her. Ellie couldn’t remember anyone ever doing that kind of thing for her before.

(she’d had a short-lived daliance with a boy from her art class and he’d brought her roses and candy, but the next day he was sucking face with a girl from their photography class who put out, so it wasn’t really what you’d call meaningful).

She thanked him and hopped up into the driver’s seat (damn it, she was too short for anything elegant) and Chris slid in beside her. He was polite enough not to mention the many takeout coffee cups, the spare and broken tapes cluttering the floor, or the very used mattress in the back (used for when she needed to transport band equipment). He said his own car was in the shop right now and he’d caught a lift this morning.

“Seriously, I’m not trying to make a move or anything…I just need something to help, you know?”

It hadn’t even crossed her simple puny mind that Chris might have any ulterior motive to coming back to her trailer. Maybe some guys might but that didn’t seem to be his style.

“Am I your piece of rough, Cunningham? Not worried one of your team mates might see you slumming it with me?” Ellie said, only part joking.

Chris blushed and rolled his eyes. “You make me sound like a total prude. Aren’t you worried about your badass image being tanked by me?”

She liked it when he blushed. Luckily with his pale skin and colouring, he had no chance at masking it.

“Glad you brought it up actually, can you duck down ‘til we get out the gates? One look at that letterman jacket and my scary reputation is kaput,” she smirked. She turned on the radio and heavy metal music blasted out from the speakers. She thought he might ask to turn it down and was pleasantly surprised when he said he didn’t mind it. “Sorry, I don’t have any Cyndi Lauper or Billy Joel…”

“Get lost,” he laughed. “Do not start quoting Uptown Girl (Boy) at me, Munson.”

It was almost too easy to make Chris laugh. She’d enjoyed messing with him back in the woods and wondered what other buttons she could press. What got under his skin?

There must be something, obviously, if he was asking her for ketamine.

You’ve gotta’ cool it, she told herself. Yeah he’s super cute and remembered the band but you weren’t really joking…he would absolutely be slumming it with you. He’s not even the same species AND he has a girlfriend who looks like she could be a runner up for Miss America.

Inwardly sighing at her lot in life, she bravely asked, “So how was the game? Did you - uh - throw some balls into laundry baskets?”

Chris looked sideways at her, obviously surprised that she cared so little for something the entire school (including the faculty) seemed crazy about, but then started chuckling again. “Yeah, we…we won actually. It was a championship game.”

“Oh…good. Glad it went well for you.” Ellie wound down the window and lit a cigarette as they neared a stop sign. She offered him one and he took it after only a split-second hesitation.

“Thanks. We practised really hard and I’m proud of how well we all came together. It’s one of the things I like most about playing sports, you know? The team work,” he added. “Ever been to a rally?”

She’d never thought about sports like that before, it always just seemed like one big popularity contest. His enthusiasm kind of humbled her a bit. “Uh - no, not high on my ‘to do’ list, I’m afraid. I’d be too worried about one of the cheerleaders drop-kicking me honestly.”

“Oh really? Are they…what? They mean to you?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, Cunningham?”

He didn’t look like he was bullshitting her. He looked genuinely confused…“Sorry, I don’t really know…”

She thought about all the times the cheerleaders stole her clothes (and dumped them in the toilets) after gym class, how they tried to trip her up in the halls, how they filled her locker with shaving foam so all her notes were useless, how they stuck gum in her hair and Wendy had no choice but to cut it out leaving her with a tuft that stuck out for ages.

Yeah, she could see how Miss Carver would want to keep that all hush hush from her lovely boyfriend.

“Yeah, I mean it’s not your problem so you don’t need to apologise, but yeah they make my life pretty miserable on a daily basis. They pick on the freshmen too and that really gets under my skin,” she added. “Your buddies on the team can be real jerks too. It’s why I stopped dealing at those jock parties. Those meatheads can call you a freak and ignore you at school, but after a couple of beers they get pretty shitty if you catch my drift.”

“They’ve messed with you?”

“Tried to. I just avoid it all now.”

Chris seemed honestly shocked at that and his hand twitched like he wanted to…what? Comfort her? She felt a bit bad - he obviously had no idea about what kind of people he chose to hang around. “That’s seriously not on. Not to you or the kids,” he muttered. “Does…Jackie…?”

Ellie actually snorted. “No way, Chris. She’s your girlfriend and there’s no way I’m airing out her dirty laundry. These lips will remain sealed.”

“But…I could try talking to her?”

Maybe Chris speaking to Jackie on her behalf might help for a week or two (Jackie would be sure to cry a little and pout and say no honey, she’s really stupid, she must be mistaken) but then Jackie would be livid. She’d think she was deliberately trying to split them up or something.

The little chaos demon in her brain thought fuck it, ask him anyway.

“Nah, it would only make it worse. Just…drop it, okay? Thanks but I can look after myself for a few more months. After that? I’m getting out of this craphole and I’ll never see those shitheads again.”

She could tell he didn’t want to drop it but also didn’t want to push her either. She appreciated that - she hated it when people tried shoving in and telling her what to do. Was it the same for Chris?

So instead Chris sighed and ran a hand through his short hair as he finished up his cigarette. She glanced at his blond hair - it had hints of red if you looked closely, so it was more of a strawberry blonde. It was buzzed short at the back and sides, but the longer hair on top looked thick and soft. He was still wearing his game clothes and they did little to hide the thick muscular expanse of his chest and arms. As Dio played on the radio, she wondered what Chris might look like in rockstar jeans and a leather jacket like the guys at The Hideout wore.

Probably just as great as he did in his usual preppy acid-wash jeans and sneakers.

She tried to imagine herself in the kind of clothes Jackie typically wore (very Molly Ringwald) with her hair brushed and professionally styled, bright eyeshadow smudged around her eyes, eating fucking sushi and cheerleading. Shit, it would be like watching a toad kiss a prince but without the Disney ending. It just wasn’t her.

Ellie kept her eyes forward on the road like a very very good driver.

Chris nobley changed the subject. “So what’s this Hellfire about? It’s not actually a satanic cult, right?”

Ellie huffed out a laugh. “I wish. It’s just a club where we play Dungeons and Dragons. It’s like a board game but we use our imaginations. The others built their own characters but I’m Dungeon Master - D&M - so I kind of plan it all out. There’s about seven of us right now, and we just finished a pretty sick campaign called the Curse of Vecna…” she trailed off. “Whoops, sorry. I can kind of get carried away with this stuff.”

“No way, it sounds interesting!” She glanced at him to make sure (again) he wasn’t making fun of her, but yeah, he did look interested. “I’ve heard about it - it’s got elves and goblins and stuff, right? Like Tolkien?”

“Holy crap. You’ve read Tolkien? Don’t tease me now - the Chris Cunningham has a secret nerdy side?”

Chris grinned. “My uncle lent me the books when I was still a kid. Totally loved them. I always wanted to be like Aragorn with a sword and armour…well, right up until my dad saw and tossed them out in the trash. Didn’t line up with his grand plan for me.”

“Plan?”

“Yeah…my parents are pretty strict. They - uh - have my whole life planned out for me, you know?”

Ellie didn’t know. Her parents didn’t even have plans for their own lives, let alone a kid they never wanted. She knew she wanted to leave Hawkins but after that? Life was fuzzy.

“Well...if you ever want to sit in on a game and watch, I can probably convince the girls you aren’t a spy. You’d be more than welcome. It’s usually on the night you have practice though.”

“Well… maybe one day I can flake? I’d like to watch you. Play, I mean. I’d like to watch you play,” he coughed. “It’s really cool how you look after those freshmen - they seem to really look up to you - makes me think you might be a softie underneath, Ellie.”

Ellie fucking cackled. “No no no. That’s too much now. First you want to buy drugs, then you offer to ditch sports to watch my nerdy game, and now telling me I’m a softie when you’re basically a walking teddy bear? Are you even a jock? I thought all you meatheads lived and breathed school spirit, right? My dumb perception of high school is being massacred.”

But actually there did seem to be a hell of a lot more to Chris then she could’ve ever guessed. Hidden layers, and all that.

“Maybe I’m more than a cliche. Right, Munson?”

And he gave her such a deliberate look that she sniggered and shook her head. Point very well made. She noticed a faint scattering of freckles on his nose and cheeks that really suited him.

“Well… you got me there.”

She turned off the main road towards Forest Hills and now Metallica blasted out of the speakers. They were quiet for a little bit but it wasn’t awkward.

“Seriously, thank you for this,” Chris suddenly said. “I feel…more normal…more awake…than I have for weeks.”

Ellie smiled, and this time it was friendly and yeah soft. Damn it.

“This is such a weird fucking day.”

Ellie pulled up outside her trailer and Chris slid out somewhat nervously. He’d never been to Forest Hills trailer park before and wasn’t sure what to expect. His parents and Jackie made it out to be some cesspit of evil - “a place filled with drunks, degenerates, single parents” - but all he saw was the soft glow of lights as families ate their dinners and settled down for the evening. Little Ellie Munson switched off the ignition, shouldered her backpack (heavy with D&D journals), and waved for him to follow as she found her door key. She told him this was her castle and he found himself smiling, once again at ease.

(he almost offered to carry her bag but her lunchtime rants indicated she might see this as patronising. He’d felt like a total idiot earlier when he held the door open and she’d carefully arched an eyebrow.)

Jackie always expected these things of him and got royally pissed if he forgot. It would be nice to offer for once without it being demanded.

Ellie told him her aunt Wendy was working a night shift so they’d have some privacy.

He blushed, eyeing the neighbouring trailer quickly to see if anyone was spying through the curtains (his mom would be). “What about your folks?” he found himself asking, following her inside.

“Oh they split ages ago. Pops found himself a new shiny family, and I think mom’s still in jail? She could be dead in a ditch somewhere, for all I know. They don’t exactly keep in touch,” she said, shrugging. “Want something to drink? Beer, coffee, water?”

She spoke like none of it mattered but her shrug was a little too casual.

“Uh…water would be great.”

Inside the trailer wasn’t what he’d expected at all. It was small, sure, but clean and neat. It was also really homely looking. Plenty of bright pictures on the walls, dollar store knick knacks decorating the sides, squashy cushions on the couch. Her aunt must really like teapots because there was a whole wall dedicated to her collection. He compared it to his own sterile home which looked more like a showroom.

Ellie dropped her bag on the couch and toed off her big boots in the middle of the room. Chris did the same only he lined his sneakers up neatly by the door (a habit). She passed him a bottle of water from the fridge.

“You never worry about being home alone so much? Is it…safe?”

“Yeah, it’s alright here and I can always run over to Mr Mayfield’s if there’s an emergency. He’s over in the trailer opposite,” she added, fiddling with the radio so music started playing. “Besides, when I’m on my lonesome I can play whatever music I want. Helps me relax, you know? And concentrate.”

“Seriously? That blows my brain. I need, like, total silence to read or study. I’d love some time on my own but my schedule’s real tight. There’s always something to do, or someone wanting something.” He caught her looking at him. “Yeah I know, poor little rich boy. I sound like an asshole.”

“Everyone’s got issues,” she shrugged. She gestured for him to take a seat and tucked some of her wild hair back behind her ear. He wondered if it felt as springy as it looked. “Make yourself at home, okay? I’ll go get the Special K.”

She went back to what was presumably her bedroom and Chris took a sip of the water. The music coming out of the radio wasn’t Ellie’s usual madness, maybe it was a station her aunt liked?

Tick.

Christ, really? His head had been blissfully quiet ever since meeting with Ellie. Her noise and bustle, her liveliness, had been like a balm to his nerves.

He found himself bouncing his leg. He tried to take a deep breath.

Tick.

“How long will it take to work?” he called, trying to distract himself.

“Depends on if you…snort it or not. If you snort it…then yeah, it’ll work pretty quick,” she said when she came back. She was biting her bottom lip and holding a bag of something that looked like powder. “Look, I’m going to break one of my infamous rules right now, but I have to ask…have you ever done anything like this before? Kind of worried you’re going to spiral and get into some serious trouble. You can do it here if you want? Then at least I’ll be around to keep an eye out. My aunt won’t be back until tomorrow morning.”

Again it kind of sounded like Ellie actually cared (or at least she didn’t want him to die in a K-Hole). Her offer relieved some of the tension in his shoulders and he nodded gratefully.

“She won’t mind you having a boy here?”

Ellie actually laughed out loud at that and even snorted. His mouth twitched into a grin. She joined him on the couch - though left a deliberate space in between.

She’d shrugged off her jacket by now and wore only the black and white Hellfire shirt and jeans. He could see another tattoo winding along her elbow that looked like bats. He wondered if she did them herself or went to the one parlour in town (run by an ex-biker who looked gruff and shady). Didn’t her aunt mind?

But then Ellie was nineteen, a year older than him. She was legally allowed to lift her shirt and have whoever she wanted ink her skin.

“She’d never believe me,” Ellie chuckled, dragging his thoughts back into the room. “I don’t have guys ‘round here ever.”

“No way…really?” Chris raised his eyebrows. “No boyfriend or anything?”

He pictured some tall shaggy haired guy with biker boots and tattoos. He’d have to be in a band (maybe they practised together?) and wear the same style of silver jewellery she did (now he thought about it - those big rings probably were his). He’d smoke pot and read Dune and tell people loudly to fuck off if they bothered him. A guy who could go to The Hideout every week and watch her play, and cheer and hangbang like her own weird cheerleader. The kind of guy, in short, that Chris definitely was not.

He suddenly thought about himself standing beside Ellie with his arm tight around her shoulders. She was so small that he could easily tuck her against his side, and then he would run his fingers through that wild mane of hair. Jackie rarely smiled when they were together (or at all unless there was an audience) but he could easily imagine kissing Ellie’s grin.

Not that she would ever let him. She seemed to like him okay, but he would never be the guy in biker boots. She probably had posters pinned up in her bedroom of rockstars and ‘bad boy’ movie stars. Girls like her went for the Judd Nelson’s - not the Emilio Estevez’.

“Boyfriend? Me? Yeah right, Cunningham. I’m the last girl at school any guy would willingly hang out with, except maybe as a bet.”

“That’s crazy.” The words left his mouth before he realised it and he blushed, but didn’t want to take them back either. “I mean…yeah, you’re a little different, but you’re cute as hell. Your hair is incredible and that smile? Hell, it’s beautiful.”

Her eyes widened and he noticed how warm and brown they were. She was blushing too and it somehow suited her. He felt a little twitch of - what, pride? - that he could make Ellie react like that.

(this was the girl who flipped off (judgy) Mr O'Donnell when he tried making her read her essay out loud, tied her own bra to the flagpole during morning assembly, who got cool tattoos from scary bikers, and stood on lunchroom tables to declare loudly liberal feminism was the only way to go and Reagan could suck it.)

“You’re crazy. I’m the freak, remember? I know people don’t like me, they don’t ever pick me, but it’s okay. I’m used to it.”

She was so brutally honest that it nearly knocked the air from his lungs, but then honesty seemed to be what you got with Ellie Munson. She might keep some things close to her chest, but there was no bullshit, no lying, no flattery. It was so fucking refreshing.

“I don’t think you’re a freak, Ellie, but even if you were…that wouldn’t be so bad, right? You make it look good.”

She tucked a little smile into her shoulder. “Thanks, Cunningham…you’re one of the nice ones.”

“It’s Chris, and you’re welcome.”

Another song came on the radio - some kind of old country song that reinforced this was definitely something her aunt listened to. It reminded him of the stuff his grandad used to put on.

“And you’re in a band, right? That’s awesome.”

“Don’t tell me you're a secret fan of Joan Jett,” she laughed, somewhat shakily. “Jess from the band keeps suggesting we buzz our hair.”

“Debbie Harry actually. Had a poster up on my wall before my mom ripped it down and called me a pervert.”

“That is perverted behaviour,” Ellie joked. “Glad she did. Rock music is a gateway to drugs and sex and all kinds of debauchery. Look what happened to me. Can’t have you succumbing to the dark side now.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s pretty scary. I take back all my earlier words. You keep all that Sith crap away from me. I’m all Jedi.”

He saw her silently mouth the word ‘Jedi’.

“...after Aragorn I kind of loved playing as Luke Skywalker in the backyard with a rolled up newspaper as my lightsaber,” he winced. “Please keep that tidbit extremely super secret, Munson, and yes, I was a kid.”

He never spoke to Jackie like this, but with Ellie it was too effortlessly easy to slip into this playful persona. She was so honest that it kind of dragged it out of him too.

“God, think I’m in love,” Ellie said after a few seconds and threw her head back against the couch cushion. She placed a hand above her heart dramatically. “My whole life has led to this pivotal moment.”

Tick.

Chris couldn’t help but flinch again when he heard the ticking noise and this time Ellie stared at him, sitting up.

“Okay…so I’m definitely breaking rule three again…what’s going on with you, Chris? Why do you need drugs this bad? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“Honestly?” Ellie nodded. “I think I’m going crazy. Been having these nightmares and seeing stuff for weeks now and I’m losing it. It started as just weird noises and ticking and nightmares, then I saw spiders crawling over Mr Kelley’s face in his office. I freaked out, Ellie. I ran away because I thought I’d be safer with people around, you know? But then that happened…and I still keep seeing them. Doesn’t matter if I’m alone or in the middle of class or sitting right here with you. I keep hearing the ticking noise - it’s like it's chasing me.”

Chris sat forwards and ran his hands through his hair, willing himself to get a grip.

“And the nightmares?” Ellie asked quietly. “What happens in those?”

“It’s usually my parents. Mom and dad. Mom will be strung out on Valium in bed with her mouth stitched up, or laying in a puddle of her own sick by the sink. Sometimes it’s my little sister lying there instead. It happens every time and I can’t do anything to help her. My dad…he fucking stalks me like a ghoul. He used to treat me bad, Ellie, punishing me with food when he thought I was looking too thin or too fat. He used to smack me about until I got taller than him, so then he started picking on me…which goddamn hurt more. My dad - the ghoul in the nightmares - is always telling me I’m useless, I’m an embarrassment, saying I’m letting everyone down. It’s like…all the stuff I’m already feeling, you know? But having it thrown in my face every night…it’s exhausting.”

His words came out in a rush. Ellie had drawn closer and placed a small tentative hand on his knee. Instead of feeling embarrassed by the action - or pitied - it made him feel safe and seen.

“How can you possibly let anyone down? You’re, like, the most perfect guy ever,” she murmured. “Can’t you talk to anyone about this? You know, Jackie or a friend?”

“They aren’t interested in crazy, Ellie. If something doesn’t fit right in their perfect little world then they don’t wanna know. Trust me. Jackie doesn’t do…feelings...unless they’re her own. I can’t talk to her about any of this real stuff. And my friends? They’d just tell me to man up, buy some weed, and get over it before the next big game.”

Ellie looked like she wanted to say some very choice words but was trying hard to put a leash on it.

“What about a teacher or your coach? Mr Kelley? I know I’m the last person to willingly talk to authority figures and as a rule they all suck, but this sounds serious, it’s really hurting you. And your parents…they…well sorry, but they sound like total assholes. Especially your dad.”

Chris found himself laughing at that. His dad was one of those untouchable pricks who used money and bullying to gain respect and unfortunately it worked every time. No one ever challenged him or called him an asshole like that. “He is an asshole.” God, even saying it was awesome, even if a little scary.

“You could…” Ellie was biting her lip again. “I don’t know…leave? You’re eighteen, right? Do you have any family you could stay with?”

“If I left I’d be saying goodbye to scholarships, college, there’s no way I’d graduate. My father would do his best to wreck my whole life if I don’t fall in line,” he responded bitterly. “And besides…I can’t leave my sister alone with them. As long as he’s using me as his punching bag, he can’t turn his attention to her. Can you imagine the kind of crap they’d say to her?”

Chris sighed. He placed his hand on top of Ellie’s on his knee and the coolness of her fingers (and rings) helped pull him back down to the world.

“I’m sorry to just lay this on you, Ellie. Seriously. You’ve been amazing helping me out tonight, and I’m just messing everything up like usual. You don’t need to hear about all this crazy shit and my nightmares. You’re a good listener, you know that?”

“It’s been said,” she smiled weakly.

“Do you think I'm losing it?”

Anyone else might’ve said, yeah you sound crazy Chris, but Ellie simply shrugged. She squeezed his hand. “I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re going through it right now and bottling it up, but you aren’t insane. You’ve got a right to feel your feelings. And I…I don’t mind listening. If it helps. You’ve made my night a little less lonely.”

Chris looked over at her and felt like he could drown in the warmth and kindness in her eyes. It wasn’t something he ever expected to find there, but he found himself drinking it in. Ellie too seemed to be searching for something in his expression, her eyes flickering over his eyes, his nose, his mouth.

It would be all too easy to tug her hand and close the distance. To nestle his face in the crook of her neck and inhale the strawberry shampoo she used.

But Ellie suddenly stood up and she clapped her hands. “Okay, you know what? No Ket. That’s now removed from the table. I’m going to roll us a joint using the good stuff I save for myself - and we’re going to get high and talk about it all, okay? Really lay it on me, Chriss, no bullshit or pretending. Then I’ll make some grilled cheese sandwiches and we’ll feast and come up with a plan of defence, right?”

Chris looked surprised but as she spoke a grin settled back across his lips. He really did have one killer smile.

“You’re on, weird girl.”

Before she went back to her room for the weed, she found herself hesitating for a moment. She tapped her fingers against the doorway. “Sorry for calling you a meathead earlier and being a dick about the game. You said about it meaning more to you than just scoring goals - and how you enjoy the feeling of working together to achieve something. Way you describe it, it kind of reminded me of Hellfire a little bit and why I like it so much. Guess we both like being part of something…”

See? Genuine nice comment. Chris seemed to think so because he flushed bright pink. Obviously her sneaky brain had to ruin it by adding, “...we’re big damn losers, am I right?”

She hurried back to her bedroom and stashed the ket securely beneath her bed. Instead she scooped out a tin from the desk drawer where she kept the high quality stuff she bought directly from Reefer Rita. There’d be enough here for maybe three joints and she was betting Chris would only need one to feel buzzed (even though he was big, it was obviously still his first time - she’d have to walk him through it so he didn’t hack his lungs out).

She glanced at her mirror on the way out and adjusted her shirt. She thought about dragging a brush through her hair but weirdly Chris actually seemed to like it wild?

She had to pinch her arm. The Chris Cunningham was in her lounge and they were going to get high together. Chris Cunningham (who it turns out is a secret nerd and thinks she’s cute) actually/incredibly/unbelievably seemed to like her enough to confess about his messed up family and nightmares.

(Nobody had ever called her beautiful before. Not even her dad or mom or aunt).

She should probably go and buy a lottery ticket, all things considered.

She steadied herself before she went back through. She felt like a Mage on a quest to solve the riddle of the Cunningham Curse. Sure, she didn’t know how to solve spooky haunting nightmares and banish abusive parents (she assumed kidnapping was out of the question) but she could listen and offer what little support she could muster.

And Chris was dealing with this every single day because of bullshit toxic masculinity and societal pressure which forced the poor guy to feel he had to shoulder it alone.

Well that could get fucked.

“Here we go…As promised, first class pot…Chris?”

Chris was standing very still in the middle of the lounge and as she stepped closer she could see his face had turned a ghostly white. She peered up and saw that his eyes were twitching.

“Hey Chris?” Ellie gently tugged on the green sleeve of his letterman jacket. “Come on, you’re scaring me.”

But he wasn’t listening. God, was he having a seizure? A stroke? She needed to call an ambulance. The lights in the trailer began to flash and she felt the uneasy uncurling of terror in her stomach.

“Chris, please wake up! I don’t like this, please! Say something!”

When he began to rise up in the air, Ellie screamed and fell back on the floor. “Fucking hell!”

This was no seizure or fucking stroke. Something really bad was happening.

Chris began floating higher and higher. His whole face was blank - completely void of anything. Then he shot up and his whole body slammed against the trailer ceiling.

“CHRIS!”

Ellie scrambled back and as she did so, she knocked the radio off the side and the volume rose. Some stupid country song began blaring out at full volume.

Ellie was crying, screaming, gasping for breath. This was like something out of a horror film, only much much worse. She couldn’t just switch this off or hide under a blanket.

She nearly threw up when Chris’ left arm suddenly snapped like it was no more than a twig.

“No!” she sobbed. “Chris! Stop this please. I’m scared, please! WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING!”

(remember that well-honed ability to pick her fights? To choose to fight or fly?)

She clambered to her feet somehow and stepped up onto the coffee table, reaching up as high as she could to grab at him. She managed to wrap her hands around the lining of his jacket and she pulled with all her might, but he didn’t shift an inch. It was like playing tug-of-war against a mountain.

“Chris!” she screamed. “Please! Stop this!”

And then - miraculously - the lights stopped flashing.

And Chris awoke with a shuddering gasp, and fell right on top of her.

Ellie’s legs buckled beneath her as they tumbled down onto the table with a loud crash. She landed right under him, catching the full brunt of his weight, and tried to ignore the searing pain that came from her ankle as she heaved herself up into a sitting position.

She groaned as she managed to roll Chris over onto his back. His head was cradled in her lap.

She pressed her fingers to his neck to feel for a pulse, but her hands were shaking too badly to feel anything.

“Chris,” she whispered. “Please say something. Please don’t be dead. Can you hear me?”

She was crying in earnest now and the tears disappeared into his hair. What the fuck was going to happen if he was…Oh my god.

Chris then suddenly sat up with a cry of terror of his own, making her scream all over again.

He looked fucking insane, rabid, horrified. His chest was heaving like he’d completed a mile long sprint and every line of his body was tense. His big blue eyes were wide and terrified as he looked around them, surveying the broken table and the radio which was still blaring out music. He seemed to need a moment to remember where he was. Then his eyes came to rest on her and he let out the biggest shuddering breath. He took in the tears racing down her cheeks, the flinch of pain when her ankle throbbed, the mix of raw fear and sweet relief that was written across her features like a goddamn neon sign.

He was so close that she could feel his entire body shaking.

And then he was holding her in a hug that was so tight she felt she might explode, but still she twisted her arms up around his shoulders and hung on just as tightly. She could feel him trembling as he cried and tried to convey (in stutteringly split phrases) what the hell just happened, but she couldn’t hear above the ringing in her ears.

Eventually his grip loosened and she gasped for air.

This couldn’t be brushed aside as a dream, a nightmare - he was clutching his broken arm to his chest.

“Chris…you’re really alright?” she mumbled. She was still hanging onto his jacket in case he tried floating away again. “Help me up, need to ring an ambulance…or police…it’s not safe. Hold your arm steady, it’ll need looking at...I think my fucking ankle’s broken.”

She could hear the faint noise of banging coming from nearby (was it the door?) but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Chris.

Chris put a trembling hand to her cheek and wiped away some of the fresh tears with his thumb.

“Ellie…” he croaked. His voice sounded rough like he’d been screaming too. “Ellie…this is going to sound mad…but something just tried to kill me, and I think you saved me.”

A/N: Psss it's definitely The Party at the door, ready to spice it all up.

Quick notes:

Yeah Ellie is soft for Chris and he feels safe with her.

Had to tone back some of Ellie's habits because it wouldn't be realistic or safe for her to do some of the things guy-Eddie gets up to (though really it's not safe for him either).

I changed it so the cheerleaders are the worst. That's not a commentary on 'girls being bitchy' honestly, it's just the guy jocks wouldn't physically act on their resentment with a girl but the cheerleaders can and would.

Chrissy has shown she's a nice person and would feel protective of Eddie in danger - same thing for Chris only as a beefcake guy he's able to express this more literally (as in Ellie going to the Hideout).

Yeah the prototype for Ellie's fictional boyfriend is basically Eddie and vice versa.

Did I want them to kiss? Fuck yes, but maybe if I ever do a part 2. Didn't seem to flow here and really Chris wouldn't make that move. He'd be worried about taking advantage and is keenly aware how it looks that he's alone with Ellie in the trailer. It's about the implication, guys.

Girl Eddie would be scrawny and small, I think. Chrissy is super fit and strong because of her cheerleading so it makes sense Chris would be the same.

Do I like the Breakfast Club? Yeah, a bit, but that ending was crap.

I will not do a 'She's all That' with Ellie. Fuck no.

If I do a part 2 then forgive me for the shit switching of names. Honestly - what would Nancy even be?

#chrissy x eddie #edssy #hellcheer #eddissy #eddie munson #eddie x chrissy #hellcheer headcanons #hellcheer fanfic #ymaohoh #chrissy cunningham x eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #eddissy fanfiction

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parkinglotdelulu · 1 year ago

Text

Worth the risk -> Friends to Lovers 🧸⛅️

Pairing: Han x OC

synopsis: Erin and Han had been friends since they were little, that’s it just friends. However, when Erin’s boyfriend makes her pick between him or Han she’s left torn with the decision.

Word count: 6198

A/N: here goes nothing 🤎

Han and you have been best friends since forever! Since you were neighbors in grade school, till middle school, since high school, pre-debut, and post-debut. He was always right by your side, that was never gonna change.

“I don’t get it!” Han called out from the hall, “Why are you getting ready for your date here?”

“Because,” you said, getting dressed in his room. “Hyunjin wanted to help me.”

“It’s like your seventh date with this guy, I don’t get why you're still trying to be perfect for him.” He mumbled.

Back in high school no one was ever really romantically attracted to you, at least that you knew about. You were shy, quiet, and mostly kept your head down. A bit of a nerd actually. But Han never minded it, you showed the other side of yourself to him and him only. The goofy, loud, fun side. Having another guy see that version of you was something he never enjoyed the thought of. But when you got asked out by Jay, he realized that it was something he was going to have to get used to for your sake.

He remembered you running into the recording studio wearing your Nirvana t-shirt with leggings, glasses practically slipping off your face. And your long hair that was in a ponytail was a mess, hair falling into your face. Your book bag was sliding off your shoulder and you were breathing heavily.

Chan and Changbin visibly looked startled at the girl’s disheveled appearance, Han however was far used to it by now.

Barley even glancing over to her, Han chuckled, “Well you look like hell Erin.”

Sighing loudly you stomped up to Han and smacked him upside the head. He hissed in pain while Changbin and Chan chuckled.

“Ow! That hurt!” he growled.

“Serves you right.” You said plopping down next to Bin on the couch. Chan and Han both spun their chairs to face you.

“Are you okay? Did something happen?” Chan asked.

“Well I did come here with news for Han, but now I don’t even know if I want to tell him.”

“Don’t be so dramatic and just tell me.” Han rolled his eyes

“Sure…Erin’s the dramatic one in this relationship.” Changbin chuckled.

Han reached forward, hitting Bin. “Just tell us the news already.”

“Fine! You know that guy in my History 325 seminar!”

He nodded, the other two boys just shook their heads no.

“Okay well I ended up running into him at the coffee shop before class and we started talking and we walked to class together. Then after class, he asked to take me out!”

Hans' eyes widened, “Like-Like on a date?” He stuttered out.

“No like murder me.” Han stared blankly at you, “Yes a date.”

“Oh.” He spoke quietly.

“Is that like a problem for you or something, come on at least act a little bit excited.”

“I am! I’m just shocked anyone would actually ask you out. Especially when you look like that.” Pointing at you up and down.

“Whatever…” Han watched as you took your ponytail out, shaking it out. “Where are Hyun and Lix? At least they’ll be excited for me.”

“Dance studio,” Chan said. “But seriously Erin, that's cool, congrats.”

“Thanks, Chan,”

“If he hurts you, I’ll beat him up!” Bin spoke up.

“And there is no doubt in my mind you would win Binnie.” Standing up you ruffled his hair. “Okay well, I’ll see you later?”

Han nodded before turning back to look at the computer screen. Before closing the door behind you Han called out, “Hey Erin?”

“Hmm?” You stuck your head back in.

“I’m happy for you.” He said, smiling at you.

“Thanks, Hannie! I’ll see you once you're done!” You smiled at him, a big genuine smile. He loved that nickname you gave him, he loved that smile of yours, dimples and all. And he loved you…platonically of course. He was your friend. He was supposed to be worried about you going on a date, right?

“You didn’t need to act like that,” Chan spoke after you left.

“What?” Han asked, looking at him.

“You were so rude to her,”

“No-no I wasn't, I was just shocked that’s all.”

“Are you jealous?” Changbin smirked

“Me? Jealous of the guy taking Erin on a date? You do know I have taste right? Clearly, he doesn't…Now come on can we just get back to work.” Putting on his headphones he began focusing on whatever new beat blasting was on his computer.

The two boys gave each other a knowing glance, but Han was too stuck in his head to notice.

“Okay, what do you think?” You asked opening the door and coming out of his room.

Han sighed and glanced up at you, his eyes widened as he took in your appearance. You were wearing a slightly dark purple dress with a bit of lace trimming on the bottom and spaghetti straps. You had a few silver necklaces that hung around your neck.

“Whoa…” he whispered before quickly standing up in front of you. “You look, you look like a girl.”

You rolled your eyes and glared at him, “Gee thanks?”

“No no that’s not what I meant it’s just. Well, you um- I just can’t remember the last time I saw you in a dress.”

“I feel like I forgot my pants.” You said looking down at yourself. “It’s like my nightmares about not wearing pants to school are coming to life.” You joked.

Han chuckled.

“Oh real classy Erin,” Hyunjin called out from the kitchen. He came around the corner walking up to both you and Han. “Do I have taste or what?”

You laughed as Hyunjin was the one who originally convinced you to even buy the dress and loaned you the necklaces you were wearing.

“Well, you do have the eyes of an artist.” You quipped.

Hyunjin shrugged when he finally glanced over at his friend. Han was still staring at you with a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. He was studying you almost, taking in your whole appearance as if he was about to be quizzed on it.

“She looks pretty, huh Han.”

“What oh um yeah.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. Seriously is that all he could even say to her? He nudged Han's shoulder almost giving him a ‘come on say something’ look but he just mouthed ‘What’

“Don’t mind him,” you spoke. “He’s had zero game since I could remember.”

“That is not true.” He finally spoke.

“Oh really?” You arched a brow. “Remember that girl you liked in your second year? Mister Player over here went up to her and said she had a very pretty lunchbox.”

Hyunjin burst out laughing. Hans face reddened remembering the mortifying incident.

“Whatever.” He mumbled.

“Okay, Erin you have to leave soon so…can I do your hair now!”

“Yup!” You turned and both you and Hyunjin made your way to the bathroom, while Han followed closely behind.

Han watched as Hyunjin tied your hair back with a small white bow into a half up half down look, with a few strands left in the front.

Hyunjin sighed, “I still don’t get why you cut your hair so short.”

Han made eye contact with you in the mirror.

“Just, needed a change I guess.”

But Han knew the real reason.

He was waiting for you to come over for movie night when he heard the doorbell ring. He ran to answer it and saw you standing there in comfy pajama pants and a sweatshirt. When he glanced up toward your face his eyes widened.

“What the hell did you do?” He yelled.

“Jeez Han yell a little louder, why don’t you?” You groaned while walking inside. “I cut it.”

Your hair that used to go well past your shoulders was now cut right above them.

“But why?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know, I felt like it. Can we just watch the movie?”

He nodded, before closing the door behind you.

Throughout the whole movie, he couldn’t help but just stare at you. Why, he kept wondering. Why did you cut your hair? He was so lost in a daze that he wasn’t even paying attention.

“Oh my god!” You yelled startling him.

“What! What happened?” He glanced back towards the movie, only to see the credits rolling.

“You would know if you actually watched the movie instead of looking at me the whole time. What’s with you?”

You stared at him with a curious look on your face

“Why did you cut your hair?” He blurted out.

“Oh my god! Seriously we’re still on this?” You groaned.

“You loved your long hair! Like even when your parents told you to cut it you still refused! So what happened? Cause I’m not buying this you needed a change bullshit!”

You sighed and looked down at your hands in your lap fiddling with your fingers. “If I tell you, you can’t get mad or make a long speech okay?”

“Okay got it!” He threw his hands up in surrender.

“A couple of days ago, Jay mentioned how he doesn’t really like my long hair, said he thought I would look better with short hair…So I kinda cut it for him.” Your eyes wandered over to him as he just looked at you.

“Well, that’s just stupid!” He said

“I told you not to get mad!”

“Well, when you're reasoning is that I’m gonna. Who changes their hair because another person wants them to!”

“Umm…You! You guys change your hair all the time!”

“That’s different!”

“How?” You argued

“It’s for work!”

“Yeah, but it’s other people telling you how to change it! So same fucking thing! Plus I know for a fact you don’t love dying your hair! At least I liked that I cut my hair.”

Han sighed, throwing his head back, “Fine, you got me there.”

“Ha!” You laughed mockingly.

“But do you though? Do you really like that you cut your hair?” Han although was a big goofball, and always laughing. You knew that when he got serious…he meant it.

You shrugged, “I like that it made Jay happy. A few inches of hair isn’t a huge sacrifice. It will grow back.”

After you got quiet you didn’t even want to look at him. You could already feel the disappointment and embarrassment radiating off of him. And if you were being honest you were also embarrassed. Embarrassed of yourself for changing for someone else. You always promised yourself you would never be that person to change for a guy, but here you were. It was just that you liked Jay, a lot and he liked you. He asked you out, he chased you. No one has ever done that.

You sniffled a bit, bringing your sleeve up to rub your nose. You felt the couch dip under you as Han moved closer to you, bringing you into a hug. You were pulled into his chest, his arms snaking around your waist.

“You shouldn’t have to change yourself to make someone else like you.” He whispered.

“I know,” you mumbled. “But it’s not like he forced me, it was still my choice.”

“Okay,” He wasn’t going to argue with you. He knew how you felt about this relationship. How happy you were. He was your best friend, he wasn’t going to be the one to ruin it for you. “But don’t let his opinion affect your choices.”

He felt you nod into your chest before you pulled away.

“Does it really look that bad?” Bring your hands up to the side of your head.

“No!” He brought his hand up to your hair, twiddling the ends of it in his hand. “I think you look really cute!”

Both you and Han’s faces reddened at the comment. He pulled his hand away coughing uncomfortably. “Plus now my hair is almost as long as yours.” He said, jokingly pretending to flip his back.

“Sure,” you laughed. “Whatever you gotta tell yourself.

“And…Done! What do you think?” Hyunjin asked as he put down the curling iron.

“It’s perfect! Thank you!”

“So where is Jay taking you tonight?”

“Some restaurant.”

“Which one?” Han piped up.

“As if I would tell you? Knowing you, you'd show up with a fake mustache and some awful get-up.”

“You know I could always borrow I.Ns grandma costume.”

“Please for the love of god, no.” You glared, but still couldn’t help but smile. “So what do you guys have going on tonight?”

“Gonna go over and watch a movie with Min,” Hyunjin said.

“I don’t know, maybe work on a new song.” Han shrugged.

“Ooo what kind of song?” You wiggled your eyebrows.

He shrugged, “Have to write a love song for the next album, so maybe that.”

“Hmm, well good luck. I can listen to it before, right?”

“You always do.” He smiled at you.

“When is Jay gonna get here?” Hyunjin looked at you.

“Crap! In like five minutes!”

You rushed out of the bathroom and grabbed your purse in the living room. Where Chan and Changbin were sitting.

Chan whistled jokingly, “Dang look at you!”

“Yeah, what’s got you all dolled up?” Changbin jokes.

“Date with Jay!”

“Oh well, have fun and be safe! Also, you might want to bring a coat because it's cold.”

“Whatever you say dad…” rolling your eyes. The other members chuckled. “I didn’t bring a coat but I’m sure I’ll be fine. What do you two have going on tonight?”

“Gym.” They said in unison.

“We were actually just about to make a protein shake and head out,” Changbin said.

“Ew.” Hyunjin side-eyed them. “That is clearly my cue to leave. Bye, have fun tonight.” He said walking out the door and heading over to the other dorm.

“You're not gonna go with them?” You looked over at Han.

“Kinda just need some alone time.”

You smiled softly at him before giving him a small nod. If there was one thing about Han that you learned to understand early on is that although he tends to be the life of the party he is the biggest introvert you know. You're one too, so whenever there was a day when your social batteries were both dead you learned to respect it. But there were also days even back in high school when you would still hang out. Sitting in each other's rooms in complete silence each doing your own thing, Han working on music, you doing homework. It was a comfortable silence. And even though it was always quiet, it was your favorite sound in the world.

All of a sudden there was a knock on the door.

“Oh, that’s Jay!” You started heading over to the door.

“Are you coming back over after?” Han asked.

You shook your head, “Probably will just go back to his or my dorm.”

You opened the door and were immediately met with a cold gust of wind making you shiver just slightly.

“Hey!” Jay said, smiling at the door.

“Hey, man!” Chan called out.

Jay gave him and the rest of the guys a look before giving them a nod and a half-assed smile.

“Ready to go?”

You nodded.

“Wait,” Han said before running off down the hall. You could hear him going through something in his room before rushing back. “Umm…here.” He handed you a black cardigan. He looked shy giving it to you, “Hope it goes with the outfit.”

“It’s perfect! Thank you.” You give him a slight hug.

“I’ll be in the car,” Jay said, before stomping off.

“Okay…well bye.” You began to close the door before Han grabbed the handle.

“Hey, Erin.”

You peeked your head back in. “Yeah?”

“You have a really pretty lunchbox.”

“Pfft…Thanks, Hannie.”

He watched as you ran over to Jay’s car getting inside. Before closing the door and leaning against it.

“Dude you got it bad,” Changbin said.

Han snapped his head towards Changbin, “What!” Han exclaimed.

“It’s obvious you like her!”

“Yeah mate, Bins not wrong.”

“I do not like Erin! I mean we grew up together. We’re supposed to be close, she’s like a sister to me.”

“Yeah, a sister you want to kiss.” Changbin sneered.

Han leaned forward to the couch, grabbed a pillow, and chucked it halfway across the room at Changbin. “Don’t be weird!”

“Ow!” Changbin yelled. “I’m not being weird if it’s the truth.”

Han lunged forward at Changbin before Chan stood between them.

“Stop, okay? No more throwing things. Look, Han, Bin might be going a little far…But he’s not wrong it’s obvious you like her and that you don’t like that she’s in this relationship.” Chan smirked, he knew exactly what to say to finally get Han to admit to everything. “I mean I don’t blame you, she is hot.”

“Don’t! Don’t say that about her! Like it’s her only personality trait. Okay? And I don’t like that she’s in this new relationship because Jay doesn’t even know her. He doesn’t know that when she listens to music she creates stories in her head, or that when she doesn’t want to talk to people she’ll just wear her headphones with no music. He doesn’t know that she mumbles to herself when she’s anxious and that she could laugh for hours at her own jokes, and she can always tell what music was in what movies, and- and.”

“Go on.” Chan urges.

“And that she always supported me, even when I’ve fucked up, that she’s always the one to apologize first even when it’s not her fault, that she always puts everyone before her! Her favorite book is Narnia because when she was little all she ever wanted to do was escape. And that when she smiles, and not her fake one she has dimples. When she comes to the studio and listens to whatever track I’m working on she always tells the truth about it cause she knows I want it to be the best. And that I quite literally wouldn’t be here without her!” He froze and just stared, he didn’t know who or what he was staring at, he was just staring. Why did he say all that? Where did that even come from?

Chan and Changbin were both snickering next to him when Han glanced over at them.

“Fuck.” He muttered, “I like Erin.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“Finally glad you admitted it to yourself, buddy.” Chan patted him on the back.

“But-But I can’t like Erin she’s my best friend, and she has a boyfriend and- and I missed my shot.”

“Look you never know, I think she feels the same way about you. You could always tell her.” Bin spoke up.

“And fuck up the relationship she’s in now? Do you know how much that would hurt her? And what if she does like me, huh? What happens if we get together and we break up? I wouldn’t only be losing her as my girlfriend, I would be losing her as a whole. I don’t think I could do that.”

“Why?” Chan asked.

Han looked over at him, “Because nothing would make sense without her.”

“You gotta ask yourself if she’s worth the risk,” Chan said, his hand still on Hans' shoulder.

Han stared for a minute thinking, he thought of you guys as kids, as teenagers, up until now. Every single step he ever took you were right there with him. With your smile, your laughter, and your encouragement. He knew how scared you were of him leaving. Being afraid that he would never speak to you again after he made it big. You risked it all to see him happy, maybe it was his turn to take the risk with your friendship.

“Yeah, Erin’s worth it.” He smiled.

“Then what are you waiting for? Go tell her!” Changbin said, almost rushing him out the door.

“What now? No way!” Han said maneuvering out of Changbins grip. “I’ll tell her later,” Both Chan and Changbin looked at him, cocking an eyebrow. “I promise. I just need to work out what to say.”

“Want to go to the gym? Always helps clear my head.” Chan asked.

“No, I think I’m gonna go work on a song.” He said and quickly rushed off to his room, closing it shut.

After a few hours of working Han looked over his lyrics and realized that all of it was about you. He didn’t even mean for it to happen, but after figuring out that he did like you more than a friend it was the only thing in his mind. He wanted to tell you, scream it to you, sing it to you and show it to you. He wanted to prove that he cared about you more than a friend. However, his anxiety was also getting the better of him. What if you thought he was crazy? What if you got mad? What if you picked Jay over him? Then he had to remind himself that you weren’t like that. You wouldn’t abandon him, or get mad. You were you, Erin was just that, Erin.

A loud crash of thunder shook the building, making him remove his headphones. He didn’t even realize that it was raining. Finally, he heard just the faintest knocking at the door. Chan and Bin should still be at the gym, maybe Hyunjin forgot his key or something. Leaving his work he walked over to answer the door and saw you. You were soaked from head to toe, your hair dripping and your dress and his sweater clung to your skin.

“What the hell? Erin, get in here.” He said, his voice laced with concern. Pulling you in by your arm as you stumbled inside.

“Sorry!” You spoke

“Why are you soaked?”

“Duh cause it’s raining,” you joked.

Except Han didn’t find it funny, “Clearly, did you walk here or something.”

You nodded.

He sighed, “Hang on,” he rushed off grabbed something from down the hall, and hurriedly came back. “Here…” he whispered. Wrapping a towel around your head as it draped down your body. He began to rub your arms with the towel in an attempt to warm you up and dry you off. “I thought you weren’t going to come back. Why didn’t Jay drop you off.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come over unannounced and interrupt your night. It’s just well-” your voice started to crack and your eyes began to burn with tears forming.

“Hey hey hey, you know you're always welcome here! Did something happen?”

You nodded slowly.

“Okay, well we can talk about that later. First, you need to get out of those wet clothes.”

He again grabbed your arm and dragged you to his room. You stood in the corner as you watched him rifle through his closet pulling out a sweatshirt and a pair of shorts.

“Here,” He handed you the clothes. “You change in here and I’ll go make some coffee or something to help warm you up.”

“But I really need to talk to you.”

“You can’t talk to me when you look like that.”

“Wow, thanks.” You rolled your eyes sarcastically.

Hans' eyes widened, “No! No no no! Not like that I mean, you're probably freezing just get into some warm clothes then we'll talk. I promise.” He began to head out of his room leaving you to change.

“Hey Han?”

“Yeah?” He poked his head back into the room.

“Thanks.”

“Sure, what are friends for?” He gave you a small smile before closing the door and rushing off to the kitchen.

‘What are friends for?’ Stupid he thought to himself. Here he is coming to the realization that he actually likes you and he says the most cliche friend zone thing there is. He kept thinking about why you were so upset, could Jay have broken up with you? At first, he smiled at the thought. The thought of him not being a factor when he told you. At least then it wouldn’t be as fucked up…But see you standing in the rain eyes red and upset. It made him also realize that whatever did happen hurt him. And he didn’t want to just add more fuel to the flames by telling you. He would wait, he can do that.

He poured the coffee into a mug when he heard the door to his room open and you walked out. He turned to hand you the mug when he froze and stared at you. You were wearing his hoodie that was way too big on you, going down almost to your knees, and the long sleeves burying your hands. He had seen you in his hoodies on numerous occasions, maybe it was him finally realizing he liked you, or maybe it was just the situation. But he couldn’t help but like seeing you in clothes, you looked so…cute. It was gonna be hard to wait.

“Umm…here.” He said handing you the mug.

“Thanks.” You whisper, grabbing the handle and clasping your hands around the warm ceramic cup.

Han moved to sit over on the couch as you followed, plopping down a few feet away from him.

“So what happened? Did Jay do something? Are you okay!” It was like his mind was running a marathon of questions.

You sat there curled up, legs pulled up to your chest as you still cling to the mug looking at the brown drink inside, watching the steam still rise. You just kinda shrugged at his questions.

“You're not okay? Or you don’t know? Come on Erin what happened? Whatever it is, I can help you.” He said, his voice was laced with concern.

Han was always like that even as a kid. He put everyone before himself. He could be having the worst day and yet, he would still always be wearing a smile. Han was funny, he loved to make people laugh and smile. However, sometimes he did that even when he really didn’t want to. He could be drowning and still give the other person a life preserver.

“I don’t think you can help with this one.” You whisper.

“Was it Jay?”

You nod.

“Okay, then what happened? You're scaring me, Erin.”

You sighed, “Okay well…”

After you left the dorm you ran out to the car where Jay was waiting.

“Sorry.” You said smiling at him.

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes and began driving. “You're over here more than you are at my place. Don’t see why you need to say like a million goodbyes.”

You looked down playing with your fingers, it was gonna be another one of these nights. “Sorry…” you muttered quietly.

Jay was great, most of the time. But something always bothered him about you and Han’s friendship. I guess it just didn’t seem normal to him, a guy and girl being strictly friends for this long. You never saw a problem with it though, if he had a girl friend you wouldn’t mind. But he still would continue to get upset. Every time he did though you would reassure him that you and Han were friends nothing more. Of course, in high school, there was a time when you thought that maybe you could be more, but he left for training. Your feelings for Han never went away but instead just subsided. You knew deep down he only saw you as a friend and having Han as a friend was more important than having him as a boyfriend. However, you would never admit that to Jay.

The whole time at dinner he was rude. Passive aggressive comments. Ignoring you or just giving you one-worded responses. Dinner was quiet, awkwardly quiet…it was always like that with Jay. Silence just never felt as comfortable than when you were with Han.

After dinner you guys went on a walk, the clouds were rolling in hiding the moon and the stars. The smell of rain fills your surroundings. It was chilly so you slipped on the sweater Han had given you before you left.

Jay scoffed, “You're seriously wearing that?”

“I’m cold, it’s not that big of a deal. Why are you so upset? You have been in a mood all night.”

“I think I have a right to be upset!” He stopped walking and looked at you.

“Cause I’m wearing someone else’s sweater?” You asked a bit stunned.

“It’s everything! I mean come on do you really expect me to think that you and that guy are just friends!”

“That guy happens to be my best friend! And his name is Han.”

“Best friend? Yeah right! The way you guys act together, how you're always at his place, you wear his clothes. Why don’t you just date him instead, huh?”

“Cause I’m with you! And I don’t like him like that!”

“Well, he sure likes you like that!”

“What?” You practically screamed. “No-No he doesn’t! We’ve been friends since we were kids. Hate to break it to you, but guys and girls can be friends!”

“Guys are only friends with the girls they want to fuck!” He spat.

You stared at him, eyes widening, “Are you being serious right now!”

He sighed, “Look I get it, okay?” You have been friends with him since you were little. But he is starting to affect our relationship.”

You shook your head, “No! You are letting him affect our relationship!”

“You're seriously placing the blame on me!”

“I just don’t get why you're upset. I’ve told you and reassured you over and over again that we are just friends!”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be friends with him anymore!”

“Excuse me?”

“It's either him or me! Pick.”

“This is a joke, right? You're not actually asking me to pick?”

“I am. It’s either him or me. But just a reminder, that no one has ever liked you before me! So good luck trying to find someone who will love you as I do. I mean is someone like him really worth the risk?”

“He gave me an ultimatum, he’s making me pick.” You said looking back over at Han. Tears were filling your eyes and beginning to run down your cheeks.

He was just staring at you. He didn’t know what to think. At first, he wanted to go punch Jay for even making you choose. Then he wanted to comfort you, tell you that he’s not the only person who is going to love you. Tell you that he loves you. However, his mind started to panic, the anxiety settling in at the last option. The option that left you so upset, that you had made your choice. You chose Jay. It would explain why you were so upset and worried about talking to him.

“You're not gonna say anything?” You said pulling Han out of his thoughts.

“I mean umm what do you want me to say!”

You shrugged, “I don’t know, anything.”

He thought for a moment, “Look Erin you're not…unlovable. For him to say that well it was messed up. But I get it, I get that fear of never finding someone. I know how happy he makes you, and if I’m the one standing between you having a healthy relationship well then,” as much as it pained him to say this. As much as he wanted to shout and tell you not to choose Jay. To choose him and for him to tell you that he does like you more than a friend. He couldn’t be the one to destroy the relationship you're in now. He couldn’t hurt you like that. “Then you should pick him.” His voice cracked and his eyes stung.

“I knew you would say that.” You whisper. “Which is why I broke up with him.” You smiled softly looking over at him.

“You what?” Han snapped his neck up and looked at you.

“Amongst calling him an insecure bitch.” You chuckled.

Han laughed and moved forward hugging you tightly. You wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled into his chest.

“I really thought I was going to lose you.” He whispered into your neck.

“You're not getting rid of me that easily. Plus even if he is right, I'll never find someone who likes me.” You both pulled away and looked at each other. You smiled, “You were worth the risk.”

Han smiled softly at you, looking into your eyes that were still filled with tears. He reached up and his thumb grazed your cheek and wiped away your tears. His eyes glanced down to your lips. He swallowed harshly, his breath caught in his throat. Before he could even register what he was doing he leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours. It was a simple peck, but there was a tenderness to the touch. Your eyes widened in shock, before you could even register what was happening he pulled away, his facial expression mimicking yours. However, the softness of his lips still lingered on yours…

His cheeks flushed red, “I’m sorry!” He almost shouted it. He quickly moved away from you. “Fuck, I am so sorry!” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I swear I didn’t mean to! It just- I mean I just. I wasn’t thinking, and you're upset! Not that that’s the reason I kissed you! But I just don’t want you to think I took advantage of you when you were emotionally vulnerable! You just got out of a relationship, that was basically my fault! And I don’t want you to think what Jay said was true! That I’m only friends with you because I want to fuck yo-” His eyes widened again, “No not like that! Fuck I’m making this worse!”

You sat there listening to his anxious rambles, before moving forward and grabbing his face. He stopped talking and looked at you. His eyes were glazed with panic and shock. You pulled him in, pressing your lips against his. Unlike the last time, this one was deeper. Your arms wrapped around his neck while his arms snaked around your waist pulling you in closer. Your hand tangled in his hair. Your whole body felt warm and giddy, but everything else just felt calm. It was as if the whole world had gone quiet and you two were all that was left in this moment.

You pulled away your eyes meeting his. You were both still so close, not having even moved yet. You could feel him take a breath.

“Dude…” he muttered.

You couldn’t help but let out a small shy chuckle, “Seriously? I just kissed you and you call me dude.”

“No! No no, I mean yeah, but it was a force of habit! Okay?”

“So…”

“So…” He was still looking at you, in fact, I don’t think either of your eyes had broken away. His hand left your waist and pushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. He sighed, “Look Erin, I like you, like a lot! It took me a while and a lot of nagging from Chan and Bin to make me realize it. But the moment I did it scared the crap out of me! My whole life you’ve been there, you supported me, you held my hand, mentally and physically. These feelings were different from what I used to feel before. I’ve always loved you but now I’m realizing that I’m in love with you. I didn’t know if you felt the same, and you were with Jay…I didn’t want to mess up what we had! I didn’t want to hurt you or-or make you hate me. But Chan asked me if you were worth the risk. You risked your friendship with me when I left to follow my dreams. And hearing you say that you risked your relationship with Jay, just for our friendship. It made me realize Erin that you are worth the risk.”

You smiled, “Just to be clear? This is like more than friends right?”

Han looked at you and laughed, “Yes more than friends.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to say that! I am in love with you too! So so so in love with you!”

“Yeah?” Han whispered.

“Yeah…”

He leaned in again, both of you smiling into the kiss. When you heard the sound of keys in the door knob as you both quickly pulled away from each other. Chan, Hyunjin, and Changbin walked in.

“Oh hey, Erin! How’d the date go?” Chan asked.

Your eyes widened, as you scratched your neck uncomfortably, “Well…Jay and I broke up.” You smiled and looked over at Han. His cheeks had a faint blush to them as he smiled at you.

Chan smiled knowingly at the two of you.

Changbin glanced between you and Han before letting out a gasp. “Well, it’s about fucking time!” He yelled.

Hyunjin jumped at Changbins change in volume. “Time for what?” Hyunjin asked.

As Chan smacked Changbin on the head, beginning to drag him and Hyunjin to his room.

“Come on! Congrats you two.” He said before heading down the hall.

“Congrats on what!” Hyunjin yelled.

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luna-loner · 2 years ago

Note

Heh... Let's see your take on ALL of B5 for the character meme, please! (and dw, I am working on your ask too, it just takes time :)

Hehe, challenge accepted, Candy! (Also dw, take your time)

How I feel about this character: Love them all! Love them to death, and I'll keep defending them until my last breath. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Any/all the people I ship romantically ship with this character: Currently, the only B5 ship I have is Gakuyuki. The others are paired with OCs (for Next Gen purposes, hehe...) I do have a soft spot for Ren/Hazama, but it's constantly floating between "Nah, won't happen" and "Bad idea but still funny to think about..." and "But it's just so good!!!"

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character:

Gakushuu: His rivalry with Karma, especially in sibling AUs.

Ren: I just love the idea of Maehara having a one-sided rivalry with a clueless Ren.

Seo: A sibling-like relationship with Rio, filled with bilingual bickering, curses, snarky remarks, and even diss tracks.

Araki: Him and his dad; I get the feeling they have a good relationship from what little extra info we got.

Koyama: His one-sided hatred with Okuda. So now you have one E-student vowing to best a Virtuoso, who is barely aware of their existence, and a Virtuoso trying to best a an E-student, who is barely aware of their existence.

My unpopular opinion for this character: For Gakushuu, I got nothing. As for the others....

Ren: If you're gonna hate Ren for the library scene, then you better also hate Maehara, Okajima, Itona, Irina, Korosensei, Rio, and every other perv in the series because some of them make Ren's actions look tame in comparison. Just saying...

Seo: The fact he genuinely cares about his friends makes him redeemable, likeable, and even interesting.

Araki: "Only Ren and Gakushuu are hot. Everyone else is ugly." My guy, you are not ready for the nerdy Ikemen type yet.

Koyama: His face and laugh are iconic.

Also...

They're called the Big Five, not Gakushuu and Friends! Remember them, people!

One thing I wish would happen/ had happened with this character in canon: More screentime of course. I know AC isn't really their story, but it would've been nice to have just one chapter showing us their daily lives, or at least give them all character profiles, not just Gakushuu. What I wouldn't do for offical birthdays....

A B5 spin-off would be greatly appreciated, no matter how unlikely it may sounds. Heck, I'm okay if it were just a one-shot, just give me some B5 content, Matsui!

Also, Seo got done dirty in the timeskip! Why is it we learned what the previous four did for a living, but Seo's section was just, "He and Whatsherface went to the same university and repeatedly dated on and off, yet despite this ridiculously clear sign this so-called relationship is an utter failure, Idiots #1 and #2 believe the other is their one true love."

Even Ren's section was better than this. Sure, he almost started a bloodbath and got lectured by Shuu for it, but at least he got some much-needed character development out of it. Every single Virtuoso got a happy ending but Seo, who is stuck in an unhealthy relationship. No character development, no clue what he was majoring, like come on! Have mercy on my insecure boy! Preferably by him dumping the harpy he's been shackled with since middle school once and for all.

Favorite friendship for this character: Ren and Gakushuu (Wholesome), Seo and Araki (Wholesome), Koyama and Seo (Chaos)

Yeah, I wasn't planning for my first ask to be this long, but ah well, more B5 content for Candy 😊

#assassination classroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #big five #five virtuosos #gakushuu asano #asano gakushuu #ren sakakibara #sakakibara ren #tomoya seo #seo tomoya #araki teppei #teppei araki #koyama natsuhiko #natsuhiko koyama #asks

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capricorn-writer-kawaii · 1 year ago

Text

Our Hero Academy

Chapter 8 - I was the lucky one

Prev. Chapter

Pairing: Shota Aizawa x female OC

Genre: Shota Aizawa X female OC fluff, angst, high school romance, friends to lovers

Words: 3.6k

Summary: 15 years ago, Eraser Head was starting his hero studies with his best friends Hizashi and Oboro. Contrary to what people think, his teenage years in the U.A. were bright and lovely, filled with the laughter of his best friends and his girlfriend's unconditional love. What happened over the years? What changed him into a gloomy sensei?

Extra note: You can totally picture Y/N in the OC female name, it's just that it'd be cute to read Aizawa calling her pet names. 🤍

Once again, thanks to @merrymonkey for illustrating this story. I love you, girl! 🥰

Chapter 8 - I was the lucky one

Although Aizawa didn't talk about his first kiss, that didn't mean he had moved on from it. To tell the truth, he kept repeating it over and over in his mind. On numerous occasions, the quiet boy got lost in his thoughts while Oboro and Hizashi talked between them. Like that night when the two friends were yelling at each other while playing a video game. For their Christmas break, the boys had done nothing more than chilling at Oboro's house while Kaori was visiting her family.

During those days Shota realized how used he was to be with Kaori; without noticing it, when he left Oboro's house he walked towards the station where he always accompanied her. It also happened to Shota that he would fall asleep, but in the middle of the night, he would wake up looking for his cell phone to check if Kaori had texted him saying that she had arrived safely at the U.A. dormitory.

“If Kari were here, she'd have told you the same thing, Hizashi! You suck in this game, and you make us lose! Hear it yourself! Let's call her. Shota, call her.”

"What? Why me?"

“Because even if there's no signal in her house, if the call comes from you, she'll answer.” Oboro and Hizashi looked at their friend waiting for him to call her, but instead, Aizawa's face was almost as red as his eyes when he activated his quirk. "What are you waiting for?”

“Yes, call her, tell her we miss her!” Hizashi suggested.

"No! Why would I tell her that I miss her? She's gonna think I'm crazy!”

“I never said YOU, I said ALL of us miss her.” Hizashi clarified with a smirk evidecing how easy it was to put Aizawa in the spotlight. “But if you wanna tell her that, then go ahead! I'll keep saying it until you get tired of listening to me and decide to act. You and Kaori should be together.”

“Shota, you really don't like her? Not even a little?" Oboro asked, but in response he only got Aizawa to lower his face and his ears to turn red. “It's a shame, Kari's beautiful and she's always taking care of you. But, anyway... we can't force you to like her...”

“You're right, Oboro. We can't force Shota to see her as anything more than a friend. But I still think she's pretty!”

"Of course! Kari's gorgeous! Shota, what kind of girl is your type? You never talk about it.”

“I mean, Kaori's cute, yes…” He shyly answered.

"Don't worry, you don't have to say it if you don't think like that. She's not here, you won't make her feel bad." The blonde said, looking at Shota, who had already changed his face to a more serious one.

“I do believe it, Hizashi. She's... ” For a few moments, Shota was silent, thinking about what word he could use, but none was accurate enough. Just remembering that night when he had her resting on his lap and then when he kissed her, Shota was left speechless, Kaori was way more than beautiful.

“Don't force yourself to say something you don't believe just to be a good person, dude. It was just an idea that Hizashi and I had, but anyway. Who do you think could be a good match? She's like my sister, I want her to be with a nice guy. We have to make sure she doesn't give just any guy a chance." Oboro commented and that already made Aizawa frown.

“Kari has a whole list of guys behind her, don't worry. Just because Shota doesn't find her attractive doesn't mean..."

“I do find her very attractive!” The black-haired hero said without being able to remain silent, he was not going to let them think something that was not true.

“But not as much as Midnight, right?” Oboro asked, hiding his triumphant smile.

“Nemuri? What the fuck Oboro!?”

“Oh! Nemuri's stunning too! Good choice, Shota! So you prefer them tall, voluptuous and with black hair. If you put it like that, Kari's a little girl next to her, I think I understand now why you don't…”

“I DO like Kaori! How can I not like her if she's perfect!? Enough nonsense, I’m not interested in Nemuri!"

At the smile of his friends and the disturbing way in which they both saw him, Aizawa realized what he had said and immediately wanted to disappear. He had been an idiot, he had fallen into the trap of the boys.

“You like Kari!” The other two said in unison.

"That's not what I mean! Damn, you guys talk so much it makes me dizzy and I don't know what I'm saying!” Shota stood up ready to leave. “She's our friend, stop talking about her like that.” It was the last thing he said before getting out of there.

"I told you!" The boys said again at the same time, laughing so exaggeratedly that they seemed crazy.

“Now we just need Kaori to accept it too. But I think we shouldn't mention Nemuri again.”

"Why not?"

“What if shock therapy doesn't work on Kaori, Hizashi?”

“Why do they both have to be so shy?” The blonde asked, sighing and trying to come up with a new plan.

After successfully completing their first year in the U.A., spring break started and Oboro, Hizashi, and Shota went to Kaori's house. The girl's parents were so grateful for how well they had treated their daughter that they invited the boys. Naturally, Oboro and Hizashi were over the moon with excitement, and Aizawa was on the verge of an anxiety attack.

“Shota, are you feeling okay? We've never seen you this pale. Is the train getting you sick?” Oboro asked, but Aizawa just shook his head.

“Don't you think this will be a lot of work for Kaori's family? I mean, hosting three people…”

“Stop worrying so much, Shota!” The blonde advised putting his arm around Aizawa's shoulders. “Kari told us many times that her parents wanted to meet us.”

“Plus, you can relax, you'll make a good impression. That’s what you’re worried about, right?” Oboro had been right about his friend's concern, and Shota's sigh made it even more evident.

“I'm not good with good impressions, nor with second ones, nor with any that follow.” The boy's comment was so honest that his friends laughed a lot. “It'd be terrible if her parents thought she spent all her time with social misfits.”

“Just the way you are is fine, stop overthinking, bro! Besides, you and Kari are pretty much the same person. The freaks are Oboro and me and I promise we'll behave in front of your parents-in-law."

Aizawa did not pay attention to his friend's comment because he looked out the window once the train stopped. There she was... waiting for them with a perfect smile that took Shota's breath away.

As soon as she saw her friends, she ran up to them and hugged them. They could tell how happy she was to have them there.

Kaori's family turned out to be so welcoming that the boys felt even better than at home from the first day. While the girl's parents spoiled them, treating them like their own children, her siblings never stopped making them laugh with their witticisms. The one who appeared the most enthusiastic of all was the younger kid, who, although physically identical to Kaori, in terms of personality could not be more different, as the boy was extremely extroverted. Shota knew who he was as soon as he saw the scar on his face, but the child looked so happy that it seemed he couldn't care less about his scar.

The first night the boys played until late with the children near the river, and when they returned home, a delicious dinner awaited them. While Oboro and Hizashi continued playing with the kids, Kaori was preparing to go to the kitchen to help her parents.

“Shota, what are you doing? Stay here with the boys.”

“Your parents could use an extra hand"

“No, you're our guest! Please…"

Aizawa didn't even bother to listen to her when he was already walking to the kitchen. Once there, the girl's parents thanked him for his help. They were still cooking, so there were a few things left to do that the shy but sweet boy was happy to help with.

“I can finally be alone with the famous Shota Aizawa.” Kaori's father commented when he and Shota were left alone in the kitchen. “I must accept it, boy, I was a little jealous. My little girl had never talked about a boy until she met you. However, I was more worried about her. The first days were not easy, I hated the idea of her living so far from us. I know Kaori's strong, but she's also very fragile. I was afraid that she'd get depressed because she was alone. But suddenly, one day she called us and she was so excited... She said that she had talked to a classmate, that he had agreed to work with her, and that he had invited her to lunch. Also, that he had introduced her to his friends. She was really happy that night on the phone." Aizawa couldn't help but smile as he found that very cute.

"She says that Hizashi makes her laugh even in serious moments, and that Oboro's the older brother she always dreamed of having. She loves them, but oh boy! She adores you." Shota was so moved that he couldn't find what to say, he could only smile shyly until Kaori's father bowed his head towards him. “Thank you very much for taking such good care of my daughter.”

“Sir, please don't do that!” He said very distressed. “Kaori has been the one who has taken care of us. I'd love to tell you that it has been the opposite, but she has been the one who has protected us. We… I was the lucky one to meet her.” He said, trying to suppress his shyness, but he didn't do it so well, because the man laughed discreetly when he saw his red ears. From how Kaori had described him, he already imagined that Shota wouldn't accept how attentive he was to the girl, he wouldn't do himself justice.

“So... I guess she lied when she told me that she never returned to the dormitory alone after working in the agency, or that you always helped her heal her wounds. I'll have to lecture her for lying to me when she said that you stood by her when you guys were threatened by villains. I imagine she just wanted not to worry me when she told me that you had promised her that no one would hurt her again because you'd protect her.”

Aizawa got so nervous that the bowl he was holding slipped from his hands, forcing him to bend down to pick everything up.

“You don't have to be so shy, boy!” The man said laughing and helping him.

“I'm very sorry for allowing your daughter to get hurt, sir, I promise you that I'll do my best to ensure that this doesn't happen again. I... I also adore her. She's very important to me.” He said clearing his throat.

The conversation between Aizawa and Kaori's father did not continue because the girl had returned to the kitchen with her mother. After dinner with the family, Kaori took the opportunity to take her friends to her favorite part of the mountain, where the view was beautiful, as they could see the city lights in the distance.

A few nights later, Aizawa had gone to bed when he realized he had left his cell phone charger in the living room. His friends had already fallen asleep, they were dead tired, and trying not to wake them, he quietly left the room. The lights in the house were off, everyone was already asleep; however, as he approached the living room, he saw that a dim light was coming from the kitchen, yet, what he found was Kaori filling the teapot.

“Kari, what are you doing up at this hour?”

Clearly, the girl didn't expect anyone to come and talk to her, because she almost dropped the teapot, but Shota was faster and caught it in the air before it made a terrible fuss. The girl's panicked face was so funny that the young hero couldn't suppress a fit of laughter that ended only because Kaori pushed him to shut up.

"Sorry, sorry. You looked just like Hizashi when he sees any bugs."

“What are YOU doing up at this hour besides scaring people?”

“I came to get my cell phone charger.” He explained still with a bit of a fit of laughter.

“I couldn't sleep so I came for tea. But now, thanks to you it will be impossible for me to rest.”

“Well, since I have some responsibility, I can be with you until you get sleepy.”

Accepting Shota's offer, the couple left the house so as not to wake anyone. They found a clearing near the woods, and sitting down side by side, they talked for a long time. Despite being timid, when they were together they had a great time. They trusted each other a lot, they felt comfortable with each other's company, and they had a similar sense of humor.

In a moment of silence, Kaori drank the last of her tea and didn't notice Aizawa staring at her. Every day he found her more beautiful, and even more worried for him, every day he wanted to kiss her again. But many things were holding him back, first, his insecurity made him think that there was no way he would have a chance with her. Shota had convinced himself that Kaori would never see him as anything more than a friend, he knew that she adored him with all her heart, but it was inconceivable to him that Kaori would look at him with different eyes.

"Aren't you freezing? The night's particularly cool.”

"I'm fine." Of course he was freezing! Since they left the house, Aizawa put his hands in his pants pockets looking for some warmth.

“You're very bad at lying, Shota.” Turning until they were face to face, the girl offered her hands and waited for him to give her his. Shota didn't quite understand what she meant, but he gave them to her.

Holding his hands was enough for Aizawa to forget about the cold; yet, the boy quickly noticed how his temperature regulated until it reached a warm and comforting one that he had never felt before. Meanwhile, Kaori smiled at him, proud of what she had done. However, just as Aizawa warmed up, he felt her hands getting cold and that's when he understood why that warmth was so cozy, Kaori was not altering his energy, but rather she was giving him her own.

“It'll make you cold.” The boy commented, bringing one of his hands to Kaori's face and feeling that she was not as warm as always. “Wouldn't it be better to go back to the house?”

“Do you want to go back?” She asked trying hard to hide her disappointment.

“I was willing to ignore that I was freezing to death to stay here longer, but you caught me.” Recovering the shine in her eyes, Kaori giggled.

“You're very sensitive to temperature changes.”

“I can't warm you up like you do. My quirk isn't as gentle as yours.”

“I'm not that cold, I'm used to it. But…” The girl took a deep breath and even though her body temperature had dropped, her cheeks had blused. “You wouldn't need your quirk to warm me up, Shota.”

Kaori had fixed her gaze on the grass, she had said something risky and she didn't know if Aizawa would understand, but she still felt very embarrassed. And everything got worse, first when her friend didn't say anything, second, when he moved his hands away from hers, and third, when she realized that Shota was moving. Thinking that she had crossed the line and made him feel uncomfortable, the girl was about to tell him to go back, but she couldn't do it, because Aizawa's arm wrapped her. Moreover, because of the way he hugged her, Aizawa also offered her his shoulder so she could rest her head. That's when she understood why he had moved, Shota had put the teacup aside so that nothing would get in their way.

Thus, snuggling with a smile, Kaori enjoyed Aizawa's hug. Neither of them felt even the slightest trace of the cold and they were able to continue talking, but this time much closer.

“Have you heard who'll be in charge of back-to-school camp? Nothing more and nothing less than Endeavor.”

“Endeavor? I thought he didn't have time for these things, he's too busy with his agency."

“I guess the director begged him. Lately, there've been many attacks on heroes that don't seem like mere coincidence, we have to be prepared.”

“But with him? Isn't he too rigid?” The girl asked.

“But he's number two. Besides All Might, there couldn't be a better person to train us.”

“Poor Oboro, he thought the second year would be easier…”

“I imagine that this year he'll also try to convince you to participate in the festival's beauty pageant.”

Kaori sighed deeply remembering how her friend begged her to participate last year. Hizashi also told her to do it; however, there was no way to convince her.

“He's nuts.”

"Why? If you participated, you'd win it.”

"Do not joke with that."

The hero stopped seeing the landscape and fixed his gray eyes on the girl, who had crossed her arms and moved a little away from him. "I'm not joking."

“How could I sign up for that? Haven't you seen the girls who participate? They're beautiful. You said that to make fun, right?” She asked with a pout.

“Kari, I'd never do something like that. I'm serious, the guys are right, you should sign up, you'd win it easily."

"Very funny..."

"I'm serious. I'd vote for you.” He confessed with blushing cheeks.

Surprisingly, Kaori's cheeks were redder than Shota's, the girl didn't even know how to continue the conversation and she nervously started playing with a leaf she grabbed from the grass. A while passed in which nothing was heard until finally, Kaori spoke again.

“I don't like you anymore, you're a liar. You'd vote for Nemuri.”

“Nemuri?” Aizawa immediately remembered his friends' comments regarding Midnight and wished they hadn't said anything stupid in front of Kaori. However, because he was thinking about his friends, he was unable to deny what Kaori said.

Kaori remained silent, but Aizawa saw her gesture, it was a face that Oboro and Hizashi had seen several times when they pushed her to the limit, but he had not. Aizawa's mind was trying to decipher how to handle the situation. Did he have to talk more about it? Did he have to ignore it?

Finally, he decided that the best thing was to speak, and swallowing hard, he dared not only to speak, but to place his hand on the girl's shoulder, who gave him such a look that Aizawa couldn't help but compare her to one of those grumpy cats who did not let him get close. In truth, he removed his hand from her as quickly as he had when a cat warned him not to dare come any closer.

“Why are you so upset?”

Kaori turned around so that the two were facing each other and fixed her green eyes on the dark ones of the boy, who looked nervous and distressed. Shota had such a face that Kaori almost lost her seriousness and laughed; however, she remained serious.

“Is it because you don't want to participate in the contest?”

“No, Shota, I don't care about the contest. It’s just that I thought you trusted me a little more.” That answer left the young hero even more lost, he did not understand at what point it had become a trust problem.

“But… I don't understand it, I do trust you.”

“You told the boys you liked Midnight, but you didn't say anything to me and we're always together. I always tell you everything Shota.”

“I said what? Which guys? Midnight? When?"

“Shota, which other guys are we talking to? Well… you and me, Hizashi and Oboro talk to everyone.”

"I don't understand a word. I've never said anything like that.”

“Well, they haven't stopped talking about it since they came here.”

Aizawa clenched his fists tightly remembering the last conversation at Oboro's house on the subject. That day they had both managed to corner him until he confessed that he liked Kaori. He hadn't even accepted it himself but he had told them.

“What else did they tell you?” He asked too seriously.

“They didn't tell me anything else, just that you like her. Relax, I don’t know any other secrets of yours.”

The tranquility that had surrounded them all that time disappeared and now they were both frowning. Reacting exactly the same, Shota and Kaori fixed their gaze on the grass and were lost in thought. She, for her part, had tried hard to ignore the annoyance that Hizashi and Oboro's comments had caused her; however, the jealousy from thinking Aizawa could be interested in someone else had come out at that moment. She had tried to convince herself that what bothered her was the young hero's lack of trust; but deep down, it wasn't just that. She didn't want someone else to steal her friend, she didn't want to share Aizawa's time with anyone else, and much less she wanted to think about him going on dates with a girl.

Kaori had no idea that Shota had already been through the exact same thing, but he had gotten in such a bad mood with jealousy that Hizashi and Oboro had to intervene. That had happened a little before the kiss...

Next chapter

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endless-sketching · 1 year ago

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A concept that I wish I got around sooner, yeah Zenny is trans.

And I really hope I can give their story the time and thoughtfulness it deserves. (CW: Slight blood, shaving cuts)

At first the concept of working backwards for their design was really interesting since it was basically me going back to my old old Zenny designs for when they were just a guy I would use to insert myself into. Here is where Zenny and Emi looked a bit more similar with how they both have similar hair dangles on the side.

Then life happened and well, the previous concepts I had for Zenny being a femboy turned into being trans. Eventually I did a massive redesign so I can just doodle the simplified version of that little goblin as a clear distinction between me and Zenny

This was when I started to give Zenny more of an owl motif to their design

I eventually settled on this design before going more indepth with how much like an owl they should look since they looked a bit more like a moth than anything.

(Then I remembered how gravity worked on the cloak)

Then comes the more recent development with Zenny's design with the hair underhighlight.

Skipping ahead a bit this is the current design for Zenny that I still need to make a proper character sheet for since people can't tell that they straight up don't have a head.

CW: This is the part where I talk about really dysphoric shit like getting cuts while shaving and blood

Zenny and Luna are basically my first two OCs, so I wanted them to have some sort of interactions now that Luna and Robo Luna are separate characters.

At first it was a silly little love story similar to Pumpkin and Rosa's where they both don't feel like they deserve each other's love because of many reasons. For Zenny it's their gender dysphoria and how the version Zenny presents isn't the version they want Luna to love, and if I'm being real here I got nothing for Luna just yet, she could just be really hard time properly expressing her love and with how the story is set up to where she wouldn't be able to confess before the Hard Light Incident happened separating the two.

A few more ideas workshopping would help, right now I have it to where Luna and Zenny are childhood friends. Family stuff happened with Zenny and they didn't see each other through out middle school.

They would go to the same highschool together but couldn't see each other as often with how this was when Zenny started to discover that they were trans and how they're not in the same class as Luna in completely different friend groups. They cherish the times they are able to hang out together though.

Pre-HL Zenny was basically me subconsciously going back to older concepts I had for them and went about giving it a more subtle closeted trans change to it.

(Some reference points of Zenny's older designs)

A quick personal story, as I was shaving my legs I got a small cut because I didn't use warm water. Even though it was just small cuts, it just kept on bleeding. And it was just a really stinging reminder of my own body. Then I thought "Who would comfort Zenny in this scenario?" Which admittedly is a bit messed up that I thought of this before myself but Zenny is basically a part of me, all of my characters are parts of me.

So it was just really cathartic (I think that's how you use that word) to have Luna comfort Zenny as she visits their home.

I intent to base parts of this story from a lot of my own personal life, not down to the exact details mind you but down to the important stuff.

IdLS is a project that I want to use as an outlet for my own life, and if somehow in the future this project gets popular enough and gets theories speculating what's going to happen next in the story.

I hope people can respect my privacy and don't dig up my old personal stuff that floats around the web. It's wishful thinking seeing how the internet works, but hey it doesn't hurt to have this sentiment out there.

(Oh wow I hit the image limit)

#oc #sketch #doodle #art #idls:zenny #idls:luna #being trans is hard :(#idls #idlsconceptart #my art

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auxiliarydetective · 1 year ago

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The Performer

So, I finally watched the A-Team 2010 movie! I'd say it was fun. A whole lot different from the series, especially when it comes to my beloved Faceman, the vibes generally are very different but I liked it! And. naturally, I had to get my OC brain running, so here we have this universe's version of one Kit Kelley.

Hannibal and Face hopped off the jeep, eyes wandering around the camp. It was relatively busy, probably in the middle of one unit arriving and the other leaving.

“We really picked the wrong time to pick him up,” Face remarked. “How are we supposed to find the guy in this chaos? Do we even know what he looks like?”

“No clue,” Hannibal said. “But I feel like we’ll know it’s him when we see him. I’ve been told he has some pretty recognizable habits.”

“Let’s just hope he lives up to his reputation.”

“I’m sure he will.”

Hannibal took one more look around, then he grabbed one of the passing soldiers by the arm.

“Hey, where’s Colonel Weaver?” he asked.

“Probably in his tent,” the man replied and pointed further into the camp. “Down this way, right in front of you at the next crossroads.”

“Alright, thanks, Private. - Let’s see if we can get some more info on this guy.”

“You really know nothing about him, do you?” Face asked.

“I know that he climbs walls like a spider and graduated from ranger school top of his class. That’s enough for me to want to get to know him. You never know when we might need his help.”

“Well, I’m also not too bad.”

“Jealous, Face?”

“No, why would I be? We both know nobody could ever replace me.”

Soon, they reached Colonel Weaver’s tent. The Colonel was sitting at his desk in full uniform, smoking a cigar. When he noticed Hannibal and Face, he turned around, eyeing them for a second.

“What can I do for you?” he finally asked.

“Colonel Smith,” Hannibal introduced himself. “I called about Sergeant Kelley.”

“Ah,” Weaver murmured.

He gestured to a set of chairs, prompting Face and Hannibal to pick up one each and sit down opposite Weaver.

“This is Lieutenant Peck, my right hand man,” Hannibal introduced Face.

“Hm,” Weaver just said. He opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a file. “Here he is. Karma Kelley.”

“Karma?” Face echoed. “Is this his nickname?”

“No, it’s his real name. But it suits him well. You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Is he feisty?” Hannibal asked, flipping through the file.

“Very. Stubborn even. Relatively short, face of a kid, not too muscular but a lot stronger than he looks. He’s an acrobat more than anything but you can’t deny he’s a good soldier.”

As Weaver spoke, Face tried to gaze at the file but Hannibal held it just such a way that he couldn’t.

“Small and full of anger, huh?” Hannibal chuckled. “His reports sure are an interesting read.” With a smirk, he closed the file. “I wanna meet him. Where is he?”

“On the training grounds, probably,” Weaver said. “He spends most of his free time there. You can’t miss him. Chances are there’s even a crowd watching him. - But, Smith, I have to warn you, he doesn’t work well with everyone. People either love or hate him. I’m more of the latter, so if you think you can take him off my shoulders and make something useful of him, be my guest.”

“He’s just my type of guy,” Hannibal said and put the file back on Weaver’s desk.

Then, he and Face got up and put their chairs away. As they left the tent, Weaver called after them:

“I’ll be waiting for that transfer request. But don’t come to me to complain if things go sour between you.”

Once outside, Hannibal immediately stopped another soldier to point them to the training grounds.

“I don’t know about this, Hannibal,” Face commented. “He doesn’t sound like the nicest guy.”

“Neither did Weaver.”

“Well, you’re right on that. A little stuck-up.”

“And I can’t imagine people would call us easy to work with either.”

“That’s true, but-”

“You haven’t even met him. Why not leave your prejudice aside for a while.”

“Speaking of meeting him, why didn’t you let me see his picture?”

“I want you to see him in the flesh for the first time.”

“Oh, he’s that special, huh?” Face scoffed.

They reached the training grounds fairly quickly and, really, a crowd had formed in one area, chattering excitedly.

“Ready?!” A man shouted. “And… go!”

In one voice, the crowd started counting, shouting out the numbers. “One! Two! Three! Four!” Hannibal climbed on a jeep standing nearby. Immediately, a smirk spread across his face.

“The guy on the left. That’s our man.”

Quickly, Face climbed up to join him. He looked across the crowd to see them circling a set of two pull-up bars with wide bases and a strong framework. Additionally, they were weighted down with bricks. This made Face wonder a little. Why would you need to do that? These were pull-up bars, the base already made them stable enough. Little did he know he would soon find out. But for now, he was watching what was happening in front of him. Two men were having a pull-up competition. The right man was tall, muscular with dark hair and deep-set eyes. The one on the left, however... He had tan skin covered in freckles, soft features, messy blonde hair and a toned body. But his most defining features were the large birthmarks around his left eye and right shoulder, a ranger tattoo covering the other arm. This child of a man was right now going up against maybe one of the toughest guys in the unit, a fire in his eyes as he did.

“Twelve! Thirteen! Fourteen! Fifteen!”

Under loud cheers, the right man failed to pull his chin over the bar, whereas Karma chained another two pull-ups before realizing he had won, regarding the man next to him with a shit-eating grin.

“That’s it? Here, I’ll give you an encore!”

With those words, Karma pulled his legs up to the bar, then swung backwards to gather momentum. Pulling the bar up to his chest, he flipped once over the metal, continuing to circle it like a rotor, outstretched to perfection. Suddenly, he flung himself in the air, twisting multiple times before landing with both arms on the bar again, continuing to swing. The crowd roared. Meanwhile, Karma’s opponent was standing off to the side, sulking. At the height of his swing, Karma spun on top of the bar two and a half times, then made the final half a turn by what looked like him passing his legs under his arm but it was too fast to really tell. Only a few swings later, he spread his legs out into the splits and practically did a leapfrog over them, grabbing onto the bar with no issues afterwards. Finally, he slowed down his spin with another full turn over the bar and then climbed onto it to stand on it in one swift motion. That was when he spotted Hannibal and Face on the jeep. Hannibal gave him a smile and Face, too, was long-since won over. In one last show of skill, Karma flipped backwards off the bar, twisting once before perfectly sticking the landing. Proudly grinning, he stretched his arms into the air and arched his back as the crowd cheered. Visibly pleased, Hannibal lit himself a cigar, then hopped off the jeep, followed by Face. The two of them made their way through the crowd, eventually reaching Karma in the middle of it all, rubbing his hands against his pant legs.

“Good show, kid,” Hannibal congratulated him.

“Thanks,” Karma smirked. “I would’ve loved to show more, but this thing isn’t a real bar. Puts a hell of a strain on your hands.”

“The real ones are a lot more elastic, aren’t they?” Face asked. It was just now that he saw him up close that he noticed multiple sets of knives strapped to his legs.

“Oh, someone’s watched the olympics. Yeah, they are.”

“I heard you climb walls like a spider,” Hannibal commented.

“With a good bit of magnesia, anything’s possible,” Karma stated.

“What acrobatics do you do?”

“You name it.”

Face chuckled and looked away. This guy was far too cocky. “He does it all…”

“If it’s artistic gymnastics or a circus act, chances are I can do it.

“Circus act?” Hannibal repeated.

“Yeah, I was part of a circus from when I was 14 to the day I joined the military and I practiced it even before.”

“I should’ve known you were a circus freak,” Face murmured. “With that kind of personality.”

Karma glared at him with a murderous gaze. “And you seem like the kind of guy to only care about his looks and women. Am I right or am I right?”

“Some people are just blessed.”

Hannibal just smirked at the exchange, wrapping himself in the smoke of his cigar.

“You’re lucky I call myself a circus freak or my fist would’ve messed up that pretty face of yours real quick,” Karma threatened. Then, he turned back to Hannibal. “So, yeah. Horizontal, parallel and uneven bars, rings or aerial straps, vault, floor exercise and tumbling, aerial hoop, aerial silk and, my favourite, the trapeze.”

“What, like flying trapeze?” Face asked.

“Flying, static and swinging.”

“And you throw knives?” Hannibal remarked, pointing at the knives strapped to Karma’s body.

“Hell yeah,” Karma smirked. He pulled three knives out of their straps and took a step back before throwing them into the air. “I juggle too.” Really, he did it flawlessly, seemingly completely unafraid of cutting his fingers. Throwing knives really had very little to hold on to but he did it.

“So how old are you?”

That was the moment Karma’s expression turned sour. He caught his knives and locked eyes with Hannibal.

“Who’s asking?” he asked grimly.

“Hannibal Smith. This is Templeton Peck, the Faceman.”

Karma’s lips curled upwards again. “I should’ve known. The name’s Karma Kelley. You can call me Kit.”

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Face said, “what’s with the name Karma?”

“It’s Bhutanese,” Kit shrugged. “My parents had a penchant for the exotic. And I’m sorry to tell you but Templeton isn’t much better. Who names their kid Templeton, honestly?”

“You’re evading my question,” Hannibal reminded Kit.

To this, Kit slightly rolled his eyes. “Twenty,” he finally replied. “Is that a problem, sir?”

“Not at all. Just testing the waters. Weaver said you could be tough to handle.”

“Weaver says a lot of things, but he’s right for once. I don’t work with people I don’t like unless I absolutely have to.”

“Well, I hope you don’t hate us,” Hannibal remarked, “‘cause we’re here to recruit you into the team.”

At once, Kit’s smile turned genuine, filled with a sense of pride. “I’d be honored.”

Hannibal smirked. “Good. Go grab your stuff. I’ll talk to Colonel Weaver.”

“On it.”

“Hey and when we have the time, you’ll teach me some of that acrobatics stuff, alright?” Face called after him.

“Eh, I’ll see what I can do.”

#the a team 2010 #oc: kit kelley #oc: movie!kit #fanfiction

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grimecrow · 2 years ago

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“Like...Like Like?” A Small Look At Scooby Doo's Shaggy (Norville) Rogers x Robbie Brookes (OC) For OCxCanon Week 2023!

This is the week that @theocxcanonweek is hosting their yearly week of OCxCanon prompts! After graduating high school the Scooby gang isn't sure what to do with their lives so they decide to take a year to travel the country solve mysteries, take in the sights, and explore various colleges and universities. They hope they can figure out what their plans will be once they year is up.

Along the way they meet Robbie Brookes, a tall, lanky guy with black hair and blue eyes who originally thought he could eat till he meets Shaggy and Scooby. and after a rather dangerous and dark mystery decide to take him along with them on their trip for the foreseeable future.

(Please note each new prompt will be added daily as a reblog of the original post. If you want to see what Robbie looks like he's the middle portrait of the examples in this post. The artist's COMMISSION ARE CLOSED at this time. )

Day 1 – Holding Hands

“Like, I can't believe we're walking about in the snow looking for the abominable snowman when there is perfectly good fondue back at the lodge!” Shaggy complains.

“From what's being described wouldn't it be more like a frost demon?” Robbie asks.

“That's not any better.” Shaggy replies in a flat tone.

“You know, I'm surprised you boys didn't just stay at the lodge.” Daphne remarks to Shaggy and Scooby. What she doesn't know is that was the original plan. When Robbie said he was going to go with the other three to search for clues much to Scooby's surprise Shaggy made a comment about it being safer together and started getting ready to go with them. Not wanting to be on his own, Scooby reluctantly tagged along.

“As I said before it's, like, safer to be together!”

“Weird that hasn't come up before...” Velma says dryly. She's already figured out why Shaggy's here, and what's going on between him and Robbie. Shame neither of them have figured it out yet.

The snow started to fall just after they left the lodge but it was so light that they hadn't really noticed it. It's starting to get heavier now.

Daphne stops and looks around the woods in all directions; “You'd think an eight foot frost demon claiming to be Jack Frost would be easier to find!”

“I'm starting to get worried about this snow...”

“Don't worry Robbie I have the lodge's location on my GPS still, I know generally where we are we won't get lost.” Fred beams as he holds his phone up for Robbie to see not realizing that the distance and snow would obscure what's on the screen to basically nothing.

“Though we shouldn't stay out too much longer as it's going to be dark before long.” Velma adds

Daphne grabs Fred's hand; “Also my father taught me that when out in these types of conditions that you should buddy up and take someone's hand. That way it's much harder for someone to get separated.”

Robbie feels a mittened hand grab his instantaneous, he looks down to see Shaggy's hand holding his. He hears Shaggy say; “Good idea Daphne! I've got my hand to hold!”

Robbie can feel a little bit of a blush coming on, he hopes that if anyone does notice they'll just think it's due to the cold. He does look at Shaggy though, only to find Shaggy looking back at him/ There is a moment where their eyes lock and they both instantly look away blushing profusely. Both boys now feel warm despite being in the woods on a freezing January afternoon.

Velma manages to catch most of that and just sighs; “Well Scooby, seeing as you don't have a hand I hope it's okay for me to hold onto your collar.”

“Ruh-huh, ruh-huh.” Scooby says as he vigorously nods his head.

#oc x canon week 2023 #Shaggy Rogers #norville shaggy rogers #scooby-doo #oc x canon

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legofanguy · 2 months ago

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OC-tober day 28 secret

A story for @headphones-lifeform event OC-tober day 28 secret and featuring my oc Mary, a friend of Dark Knight.

After her birthday a weeks ago, Mary has started to feel strange, and she would be dizzy in the head at times when she is near church. It has started to worried her best friends Alkmini and Yin, but Mary try to dodge the questions as she hope that it was nothing.

When Mary come home from school one day, she find her mother sitting down with a group of three men of a Native American wearing a red shirt, a Korean man wearing a white shirt, and a African man wearing a green shirt and Mary's mother said to her, "Mary, I hear about your headaches. I think you should sit down with me and these men and we need to tell you the truth." As Mary sit next to her mother, she ask the men, "Who are you, guys?" and the Korean man said, "Do you remember these words to your namesake? Fear not, Mary, for you have found favour with God. You should concieve in the womb, and bring forth a son, and you will call his name Jesus." Mary said in surprised, "That is in Luke 1:30 and 1:31 when the angel Gabriel told Mary..." and the Korean man said, "That was me." Mary was surprised at what the man said as she start to speak, "You.... you are the archangel Gabriel...." Mary's mother then said to her daughter, "Mary, I think it is time to tell the truth about your father. I told you that I meet your father when I travel to the Middle East to get stories on the war, but I lie about him being a American like me. While your father was a soldier, he was not a marine whose die in combat after I end up having you, but a angel in human form." and Mary was stunned about her father's identity as Gabriel said, "Yes, and our father as well your grandfather in this case knew the whole time and have some hosts of Heaven watched you since you were in your mother's womb, Mary. You read of how the children of our fallen kind and humans made Earth a horrible place to live that he has to cause that flood to purge the world, so we were taking steps to make sure that history doesn't happened again." The scared Mary ask the three angels, "I-Is.... is the archangel Michael going to cut my head off if I turn evil?" and that made the three angels look at each other until Mary's mother said to her, "Mary.... your father is Michael..." which the African angel said to her, "That was post to be a secret between us as well Michael." while Mary was shocked that she is the daughter of a archangel.

#oc tober #oc tober 2024 #oc-tober #oc-tober 2024 #my ocs

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hawkinsmafia · 8 months ago

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day 08 : homecoming

featuring Steve Harrington x oc Cameron “Rourke” O’Rourke

summary: Steve and Rourke’s relationship inches forward during a smoke break from chaperoning the Hawkins High homecoming dance

rating: general

wc: 1.4k

cw: smoking cigarettes, implied Steve x Tommy in the past

an: written for the 200 Words Challenge, which I am failing abysmally if going over 200 words disqualifies you, lol. also Steve should kiss a cowboy. as a treat.

After making a few circuits around the gym while on the lookout for teenagers grinding on the dance floor or catching the whiff of alcohol, Steve could only conclude that he’d graduated just in time. These kids apparently did not know how to party. The dozen chaperones were starting to form their own little clusters, having nothing else to do but scan the crowd occasionally.

Steve made his way to the refreshment table. As he reached between a couple of wallflowers to snag a sliver of pizza from a pie cut into 20 slices, he heard a deep voice with a thick drawl from the opposite end of the table that almost brought him to his knees.

“You wanna give that idea another minute or two to marinate, son?”

Rourke was standing there, over six feet tall and towering over a freshman Steve would swear was barely half his height—were the freshmen always so small?—giving him the disappointed dad look. The kid was staring up at Rourke like a deer in headlights, a silver flask in his hand, poised halfway toward pouring the contents into the punch bowl.

“Alright, you’re busted,” Steve said, coming up on the kid’s other side. “Give it here.” Reluctantly, the kid handed over the flask, and Steve took a sniff of the contents. His eyes immediately watered from the octane fumes. “Jesus, you siphon this out of Grandpa’s tractor? Get out of here, this shit’ll make you go blind. Go!”

The kid actually scampered off, and Steve and Rourke shared a chuckle.

“Lemme see it?” Rourke asked, and Steve passed him the flask. Rourke gave it a sniff, raised his eyebrows in surprise, then took a quick swig. “Whew, ain’t had moonshine this strong since I came down off the mountain! Nice flask though. Think I’ll hang on to this a while, see if he’s got the balls to ask for it back.”

He slipped the flask into the back pocket of his jeans—stone washed, and so well-worn that they fit like they’d been tailor cut to the exact mathematical curve of his ass. Steve pushed down the sudden impulse to reach out and take the flask back out of his pocket and slip his hand into it instead, just to see what Rourke would do.

“You escort Sawyer and Owen here?” Steve asked instead, as if he hadn’t seen Rourke pulling up to the school parking lot with his two brothers in the bed of his pickup while he was coming in.

“Yup. Sawyer’s on the floor with the girl he’s been trying to make time with.” Rourke gestured with his plastic cup of punch, and Steve saw Rourke’s next younger brother dancing with a cute blonde with moussed hair in an artfully high ponytail. “And Owen’s up there with his buddies.” Steve followed his next gesture and spotted the middle brother sitting high in the bleachers with a few other guys who’d come stag. “And I’m down here making sure they don’t have too much fun while pretending we ain’t ever met.”

“Enthralling. Wanna smoke?”

“God, yes.”

“Come on, they can do without the moonshine sheriff for a few minutes.”

Steve led Rourke around the stage flats that blocked a cartload of equipment from view and through the back door of the gym that opened onto the hall outside the locker rooms.

“My friend Tommy and I used to come this way when we cut Stafford’s class to smoke and fu—uh… fuck around.”

Fucking smooth, Harrington. But if Rourke noticed that near-slip, he didn’t show it. Steve ushered him into the empty boys locker room, flipping the light switch but not waiting for the light strips to flicker to life before he was weaving through the locker blocks to reach the emergency exit. A sign on the door warned that the alarm would sound if it was opened, but nothing happened when Steve pushed it open and let in the crisp fall air. It had never gone off in the four years he’d been using this exit regularly. He stood in the doorway, leaning back against the door to hold it open.

“You ditch class with your friends often?” Rourke asked him, settling opposite Steve in the doorway, his back against the jamb.

“Oh yeah, all the time. I hated school.” He pulled his cigarettes out of the inner pocket of his jacket and tapped one out, passing it to Rourke. “Well, no, I liked school. I just hated the sitting-in-class part of it.” He tapped out a second cig for himself, popping it between his lips as he exchanged the pack for his lighter. “How about you? You seem like the boy scout with perfect attendance type, no offense.”

Rourke laughed, a hearty, rolling rumble that warmed Steve more than the flame of his lighter as he shielded it from the breeze and offered it to Rourke. “Naw, man,” Rourke answered before leaning in to light his smoke. “Not even close. Had so many absences my senior year, I couldn’t even graduate. Dropped out instead.”

“Oh, shit, dude,” Steve said, shaking out the flame after lighting his own cigarette and tucking the lighter away again. “I didn’t know, sorry.”

Rourke waved off his apology with a cloud of smoke. “It ain’t nothing, don’t worry. Don’t think anyone in my family’s made it all the way through yet.” He tapped the filter of his cigarette, flicking off the ashes so they’d fall away from Steve. “Sawyer will, though. He’s too smart not to. Owen, too.”

“Pretty sure Isaac’s smarter than both of them already, he’ll do fine, too.”

“Long as I don’t fuck him up…”

Rourke’s tone dropped, his voice going soft and worried, and he took a long drag off his cigarette, the way he did when he was worried. Steve stretched out his leg and tapped his Reebok against Rourke’s boot.

“Hey, stop. Don’t do that. Look at me.” He waited, not continuing until Rourke met his eyes. They were such an attractive hazel-grey, the color of stone and storm clouds. Steve had never seen a shade quite like them before. “You’re doing an amazing job, Rourke. I fucking mean that, amazing. The way you take care of those kids is… fuck, man. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do half of it.”

“Yeah, well…,” Rourke drawled humbly, looking back down at the sidewalk outside the door. “I have help. Wouldn’t have a hope in hell if I didn’t.”

“Psh. I bring pizza and fried chicken a couple nights a week and you act like I’m the hero here. You’re the hero, Rourke. The way you stepped up to take the reins? Not many guys would’ve.”

“I ain’t a hero.”

“You are to me.”

Rourke looked up again, his eyes locking on Steve’s, and Steve realized he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“I, uh… I just mean, you know…”

“I know what you mean.”

Shit. “Sorry, I know… I know you don’t think you can do something like this, not with me. But… I’m still not gonna go anywhere. I’m bringing you crappy food and I’m drying the dishes after you wash them and I’m sneaking you free movie rentals until Keith fires me again and I’m helping Owen with his history homework and I’m delivering Joyce’s care packages, and I’m doing it because… because you’re incredible, and I want to be around you. I want to be useful to you. You’ve earned the help, Rourke—you’ve earned so much more than what you let me do, and I can do more, if you’ll just—”

“Close the door.”

“—let me be there for… what?”

Rourke took a long, slow drag, sucking the ash right down to the filter, and stubbed the smoldering nub out on the edge of the brick wall before flicking the butt out onto the sidewalk. “Close the door. Please.”

Slowly, Steve dropped his cig on the sidewalk and ground it out under his shoe, then edged back inside the doorway. But Rourke didn’t move as he did so, and as the door slowly hissed closed again, they were left standing awkwardly close in the shadows, the only light coming from the first bank of light strips by the main door.

Steve wasn’t sure what to expect as they stood inches apart, Rourke’s storm cloud eyes pinning him in place. He flinched when Rourke’s hand found Steve’s cheek, but his touch was gentle.

“That offer still open?” Rourke whispered.

Steve flashed back hard to a moment in Rourke’s living room, weeks ago, standing by the front door. Steve was leaving, maybe, and moved forward, leaning into Rourke, their lips brushing briefly before Rourke stepped back, away, out of reach. Rourke couldn’t, not there, not then, and Steve nodded, understood. Told him the offer would be on the table for a while.

Steve nodded.

Rourke leaned forward and kissed him.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x oc #fic #200 words challenge #cameron o'rourke #my ocs #stourke #my writing

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yoonpobs · 4 years ago

Text

bad boy good thing xiii.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 5, 635

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

hello friends!!! here is the next update :D i hope you enjoy the read! it's been a v long week for me so it's nice to just unwind hehe. thank you for the support & love you all!!!!

“Are you going to just … stare at me?” Jungkook clears his throat as his eyes dart anywhere but forward. It was less uncomfortable that way.

The two people in front of him don’t flatter him with an immediate response, instead; they stare him down harder until Jungkook can quite literally feel the stare of their eyes burning a hole into his forehead. He nearly shrinks into his seat, but he manages to pull a somewhat neutral expression even if he was on the verge of a meltdown.

“Maybe.” Jimin retorts snappishly.

Jungkook knew Jimin would be the pettier one between the two, but again; it’s not unwarranted. So he sucks it up like a big boy and nods his head slowly in understanding.

However, Taehyung was a different situation. His blank face was already intimidating as it is and Jungkook’s known him ever since the two of them were in middle school. More often than not people mistook him for cold and disinterested, whereas he usually just got lost in his thoughts.

But it’s obvious when Taehyung doesn’t like someone. He doesn’t put up a front to pretend that things are dandy and that he vibes with you. No, Taehyung’s blank face returns and it’s tenfold. But Jungkook knew it wasn’t just that, that resulted in the permanent vacant expression etched onto his expression—it’s paired with the fact that Jungkook’s an idiot and this is his punishment.

Jungkook knows better that Taehyung isn’t the type to take things head-on (like Jimin), but rather allow people to ruminate in their thoughts as he stares you down with a gaze so intense that it feels like he’s unpacking every single stray thought that passes by your mind. Jungkook is aware, but he’s never had to be on the receiving end of it.

“Are we going to, uh, order?” Jungkook asks, hands gripping the menu tightly.

Taehyung still stares, and Jimin narrows his eyes at the younger boy.

“You know ____ hasn’t arrived yet, right?” His tone is accusatory and Jungkook feels himself pale.

“I didn’t mean—okay,” He sighs in defeat, “We’ll wait.”

Jimin eyes him carefully before opting to skim through the menu. Jungkook knows it’s a front to not have to engage with him since they’ve frequented the same diner more than enough times for the waiters and waitresses to know their orders by heart. It’s been a while since they came here, and Jungkook knows that he’s partly to blame.

It sucks, sitting here in silence when he remembers that the three of them, you aside—used to engage in stupid banter and talked about the most random things like college boys do. They were his best friends, Jungkook grew up with them and he distinctly remembers always getting into trouble with the two boys until their parents only sighed every time they saw them returning home with guilty expressions ridden on their faces.

Now the banter is replaced with tense silence, but it doesn’t feel like it’s over. Jungkook hopes, at least.

Before Jungkook can say something else, he feels someone slip into the empty seat next to him.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late.” Your voice is sweet and cheerful, and it’s nice to hear you like this again.

Jungkook looks up and sees you smiling at everyone, oblivious to the strained mood of the table before you came.

“Don’t apologise,” Taehyung says for the first time, offering you a small smile, “We were waiting for you, weren’t we?”

Jungkook stiffens, fully aware that it was directed to him. He wanted to lamely interject and say that it wasn’t what he meant, but he knew that Jimi would give him more shit for that anyway.

“You didn’t have to!” You exclaim.

Jungkook feels somewhat satisfied at the scowl that plagues Jimin’s expression, but it’s quickly covered with a beaming smile in your direction as he calls over a waiter.

“We know our orders, right?” Jimin asks.

You nod, smiling brightly; clearly excited to be here again.

And Jungkook feels nice, too. It’s nice being here, with the three of you—even if Jimin and Taehyung were still giving him the cold shoulder it was much better than pretending like everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t.

“It’s nice to be back,” You smile to yourself after the four of you order, and Jungkook can only agree.

Maybe it wasn’t so nice, after all.

Because the entire time, Jimin and Taehyung were dead-set on making Jungkook feel the guilt of his actions tenfold when they pick apart at every word he offers into the conversation.

“Have we not been here for that long? Even the interiors changed a little.”

“I don’t know, Jungkook. Who’s fault is that?” Jimin says off-handedly, unbothered to even cast him a glance.

“Wait, really? There’s a forum coming up?”

“Didn’t we all know? _____ is the one who organised it.” Surprisingly, this came from Taehyung.

“I’m stuffed.”

“With bullshit—?”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!”

Your voice is loud enough to silence the entire table and even causes a few other patrons to turn their heads in the direction of your table.

Jimin is blinking at you with wide eyes, as Taehyung only gapes at the decibel of your voice that he’s never heard from you before. Jungkook only presses himself against his seat, and subtly inches away from you.

But you turn your head towards him and shoot him a glare so venomous that he stiffens in position.

“Don’t you dare shift away from me, Jeon.” You warn threateningly.

Jungkook swallows, too stunned to move.

Then, you turn to face the two unblinking men.

“And you two,” You narrow your eyes at them menacingly, “I told you that I’d deal with this on my own so why are you the ones holding grudges?”

Jimin opens his mouth to respond, but Taehyung is nudging him with his elbows to shut up.

“I expected better from you!” You cry, “What are you guys, five? Or is that how many brain cells you have combined?” You scowl. They’re still blinking at you when you continue to fume. “No. I’m pretty sure it’s less than that because at the rate you’re acting I’m beginning to think that this fork better conversational skills than the three of you.” You hold up your utensil for good measure and the boys can only blink at you.

The last part is directed to everyone, and Jungkook can only listen to you rant as he presses himself against his seat.

“I just wanted to hang out like usual.” You flutter your eyes shut in annoyance, “I asked for one day—one day!” You exclaim, “Just to be with you guys because we haven’t done that in forever. And you couldn’t push aside whatever hostility you have towards Jungkook for this?”

You sound so disappointed, and your voice subdues out into a whisper when you glance at the table. Jimin and Taehyung had the decency to look guilty and apologetic when they realise that you were actually serious about it. Because rarely have you ever blown up, if not—ever.

“_____, we’re sorry—” Jimin begins.

“Are you?” You snap irritatedly, “I told you that I didn’t want to make things complicated and here you guys are—doing exactly that. I resolved whatever I had to with Jungkook, and let’s not pretend like he was the only one at fault here. The two of you are opening a closed book and it’s unnecessary. I just wanted to hang out with you guys and laugh about our balding lecturers, is that so much to ask for?”

“I think—” Jungkook begins, feeling slightly more confident to speak up after you’ve somewhat defended him, but the way you snap your head to him to send him a blazing look shut him up immediately.

“And don’t think you’re off the hook either,” You seethe, “Jimin and Taehyung have every right to be mad but they don’t have the right to ruin the atmosphere of our hangout right now. That doesn’t change the fact that you messed up.”

Your words are sharp, and his eyes widen when you scold him. It oddly feels like the three men were being lectured by a parent, and it’s not far off because you’ve always been the level headed one amongst the four of you anyway.

“I’m sorry, ____.” Jimin offers apologetically, but your ears are flushed for obvious reasons before you mutter an excuse to head to the bathroom.

When you storm off, the three men stare at each other unblinking for a few seconds before Taehyung breaks the silence.

“Listen,” He sighs, “Clearly, Jimin and I are pissed.”

Jungkook’s eye twitches, that’s an understatement.

“But, we have a right to be—like she said,” Taehyung continues. Jungkook doesn’t argue there, “But we care about her as much as you do, and we don’t want her to feel any more disappointed than what she had to feel for the past month. So we’ll drop it.”

“Why are you speaking on behalf of the both of you because I’m pretty sure hyung is staring at me like I’ve murdered ten kittens,” Jungkook mumbles under his breath, off-put by Jimin’s unwavering glare.

“He’s not far off.” Jimin retorts, then he sighs, relaxing his features ever so slightly to look at Jungkook with an expression much softer than what he’s received so far. “I’m disappointed in you, and I probably will be for a very long time. But … you’re still my best friend, and even if I feel like knocking you into every available surface I’m willing to push that desire aside if it means we can make ____ happy.”

Jungkook blinks.

“I …” He croaks, “I’m sorry, to the both of you. I messed up and … I really regret it.”

Taehyung offers a small smile, “You don’t have to apologise to us. It’s ___—”

“Yeah, I know.” He clears his throat. “But the two of you are my friends too and you’ve done nothing but guide me even if I acted like it annoyed me most of the times; I really appreciated the things you told me, even if I blatantly went against it.”

Jimin purses his lips, staring hard at the boy.

“I want us to be okay too, as much as I patched things up with her; you guys are my best friends as well,” Jungkook says softly.

“If ____ forgives you then …” Jimin mutters, though Jungkook can tell it comes from a good place. “I guess I can work with that.”

It’s something, Jungkook thinks.

But then you’re still not back and the three men look at each other in worry.

“I’ll go get her,” Jungkook declares, but before he can push himself up—Taehyung is stopping him with a hand and a cock of his head.

“I’ll do it.”

And when he leaves to get you, Jungkook and Jimin are left in a mini stare off, the awkward atmosphere still tense enough. Not until Jimin gestures to his face.

“Your cheek …”

Jungkook sighs.

“You know there are people who need to pee too, right?” Taehyung hums outside the cubicle. He’s sure you’re in there because he spots your sneakers through the slit, and he’s lucky enough he can because he wasn’t sure how else he’d explain him leaning outside a stall while he talks to it.

You stay silent, dabbing at your eyes with the tissue you brought in. You feel a little stupid for crying about it but you hated the atmosphere out there. It was weird and awkward and the four of you never had moments like that. You always had things to talk about or even just to laugh at each other. The silence and glares were suffocating, and you couldn’t help but feel like it was all your fault.

“I’m going to piss on the floor if you don’t open the door.” Taehyung threatens in a bored tone.

You sniff, loud enough for him to hear as you roll your eyes at his ultimatum.

“Don’t think I won’t do it, _____.” He warns, and you hear fabric rustling that has your eyes widening.

“Don’t pee on the damn floor!” You hiss.

“Then open the door.” Taehyung retorts smartly.

You scowl, glancing into the mirror one last time to ensure that your eyes weren’t as red as you hoped they to be. It comes to no avail because your eyes are puffy enough to tell him that you’ve been crying, and you knew that you couldn’t lie your way through it.

“I’m giving you five more seconds,” He calls, “Five … four … three … two—I’m about to piss—!”

You unlock the door and pull it open, and greet Taehyung with a vehement glare of your own as he smiles down at you, but only for a bit until he notices the puffiness of your eyes and the pout of your lips.

“You know it’s kind of depressing if you lock yourself up in the cubicle of a diner to cry.” He says softly, arms reaching out to bring you into an embrace.

You don’t fight him, even if you don’t make an effort to hug him back. You were sulking.

“Well that’s what happens when your best friends are acting like assholes.” You snap back in a sniffle.

He sighs, patting your head gently as he forces your arm around his waist; shooting you a stern glare that you roll your eyes at.

“You know we’re looking out for you.” He chides gently, and you feel very much like a petulant child when you huff at his response.

“I just wanted to hang out with you guys without things being weird.” You mumble against his chest.

“I know.” He hums.

“But you had to make it weird.” You complain. “What are you? A social justice warrior? I told you I could deal with it on my own.”

Taehyung chuckles, squeezing you a little tighter as you scowl into his shirt. You knew you were being a little dramatic but you didn’t want the dynamics of the group to shift just because of the situation you got yourself in with Jungkook. Even if you were in love with him and he was … in love with you. Your friendship with the three of them meant the absolute world to you.

“I’m sorry,” He apologises, pulling away slightly to look at you with sincere eyes.

You look away and sulk.

He sighs, knowing that it would be much harder to get you to feel better than just an apology.

“Look, I’ll lay it off and I’ll make sure Jimin doesn’t overstep either. Promise.” He offers with a smile.

You look at him with tentative eyes as you raise a brow at him.

“Isn’t Jimin with Kook right now?”

Taehyung opens his mouths, then closes, before he wraps an arm around your shoulder to tug you closer into his grasp.

“After this. I make no promises that Jimin hasn’t caused bodily harm on Jungkook in the meantime.” He says.

You snort, picturing Jungkook cowering or at least avoiding Jimin’s eyes now that they were alone. You knew that the bruise on Jungkook’s cheek was Jimin’s doing, and while you already talked his ear off for that, you appreciated the gesture. Even if it did look like it hurt like a bitch.

“I just want things to go back to normal.” You mumble, fiddling with your thumbs.

Taehyung nods his head and sighs.

“It will. We’re okay. You’re okay. We’ll be okay.” He comforts you with a soothing tone.

You nibble on your lips, “I guess …”

Taehyung stops in his tracks as he was about to bring you back out when you mumble those words so softly he nearly misses them.

“You guess …? Is there something—?”

“I just,” You sigh, “Jungkook and I spoke and we … cleared things up. But it’s still … it still sucks.” You finish lamely.

Taehyung gives you a sad smile before turning you around so that he can grab onto your shoulders.

“What he said doesn’t define you. And I know for a fact that he’s beating himself up over it. It sucks because he’s your best friend and he was the one that said those things to you. But none of that is true because you’re the most interesting, smart and best girl I know.” He smiles at you, even when you flush and look away.

“Stop …” You whine, avoiding his gaze and you hear him chuckle.

“Jungkook’s dumb. He’s our friend, but he’s dumb.” Taehyung snickers.

You roll your eyes but a smile teases the corner of your lips.

“It’s not just that …” You mumble softly, pink dusting your cheeks. “I told him that I was in love with him.”

At this, Taehyung quite literally chokes on his breath.

“You—what?!”

You scowl, “God, you don’t have to be so loud.” You thwack his chest and even as he winces he still has a stupefied expression on his face.

“You … love … what?” He blinks, “What the hell did I miss? Does anyone else know? When did this happen?”

You huff, “Look, that isn’t … important. Not now, at least. I told him that I needed time to sort things out myself and … yeah.” You murmur softly.

You know Taehyung wants to press further, but he doesn’t do that because your demeanour says to drop it. He sighs, pulling you into his embrace once more before he gives you an easy smile.

“Take all the time you need, okay?” He reassures you softly, and somehow it does feel a little better.

“Were the extra ten laps really necessary?” Jungkook pants, hands falling onto his knees just as he completes the last God forsaken round.

“I don’t know. Were they?” Namjoon hums, opting to skim over Jungkook’s hunched figure with a shrug.

“You’re holding a grudge on me,” Jungkook says in a tone of disbelief.

Namjoon shoots the younger boy an unimpressed look.

“Am I?” He returns, and Jungkook already feels the incoming headache approaching.

“Look, I get Jimin and Tae because the two would literally die for her … but you?” Jungkook exasperates.

Namjoon sighs, clicking the pen in his grasp before shoving it into his back pockets. By no means was Namjoon unnecessarily intimidating, because besides the fact that he towered over most people and frequented the gym as his second home; he was a decent guy and great company.

That, and he never imposed his authority as the captain of the football team onto any of the footballers, or his peers, which made him all the more approachable and likeable. Jungkook had nothing against him, but after finding out that he too had feelings for you; he’s bound to view the older boy differently.

“Jungkook, I already told you—you’re my friend and I like you.” He deadpans, “But you’re also an idiot so you’ll pay for being one. It’s really that simple.”

Jungkook narrows his eyes, “And this has nothing to do with your feelings for her?”

Namjoon snorts, waving him off as the rest of the footballers come pooling out of the changing rooms.

“I think you’re projecting a little,” He snickers and ignores the look of disbelief that covers Jungkook’s face when the footballers start gathering around the two.

“He made you run an extra lap?” Jimin snickers.

Namjoon hears this and smiles, “Ten.” He corrects.

Taehyung lets out a low whistle before patting his sullen-looking younger friend on the back while he scowls. Jungkook couldn’t say anything because he’s aware enough to know that his mouth was the one thing that got him into most of the trouble he’s ever got himself into. So he swallows his pride and wipes his sweat, even pretends to smile tightly at Jeonghan when he asks why.

The practice is brutal, well; for Jungkook at least.

Jungkook knew that Namjoon was a strict but reasonable person by nature; and to a certain extent, petty. The only reason he knew was because of his feelings for you and that irked him. But he didn’t know how far Namjoon was willing to go just to prove a point, to you or to Jungkook; he wasn’t quite sure.

But Jungkook’s pride gets the better of him when he waves off concerned stares from the rest of his members. Even Jimin looked mildly worried when Jungkook was required to do an extra circuit or two just because his form looked ‘off’.

Jungkook’s form hadn’t looked off since high school.

And that’s how you find him, splayed out on the ground as he pants for air and stares up at the sky as if he was waiting for God to pick him up.

“Why are you on the ground?” He hears you before he sees you.

And when he opens his eyes, it’s like he’s seeing an angel. He’s half-convinced that he’s died and gone to heaven because your confused face is peering down at him from above.

“I think I’m dead.” He wheezes.

You roll your eyes, immediately squatting next to him before you shuffle through your bag to take something out.

Jungkook can’t even be bothered to ask what it was, but only when you press the object against his forehead and he feels the cool touch of a cold bottle; he ironically melts into the feeling.

“Here.” You thrust the bottle to him.

“God I lo—” Jungkook’s out of it, but not that out of it to let it slip.

You seem to notice, and your ears flush at the near slip-up. Jungkook clears his throat before attempting to sit up, head spinning at the suddenness of his actions.

“Thank you,” He rectifies his mistake immediately, offering you a meek smile.

The sheepish smile you return him with is enough. And he misses you even if you’re right in front of him; because things had been off for so long and having you back … even if you weren’t his, felt better than ever.

But Jungkook’s never pined for anyone else besides you, and it’s tiring. Yet, when you smile at him it feels like it’s worth it.

“Are you checking up on the corpse?” A voice interrupts Jungkook’s dazed expression when he stares at you for a second too long.

He turns his head and sees the cause of the numbness in his legs.

Namjoon is all smiles when he jogs over, Jimin and Taehyung following closely behind as they snicker at the interaction.

“You didn’t have to be so mean.” You pout up at the taller man, standing up as you only reach the height of his shoulders. It would’ve been cute to Jungkook if Namjoon didn’t look so taken with you.

“Someone’s gotta take care of things for you,” He jokes, ruffling your hair.

Things have been going better enough for people to poke fun at Jungkook, and even if he flushes at any mention of what happened—he knows that he’s got to deal with the consequences.

He didn’t know that the extra touchiness from Namjoon’s end was one of them.

“Never thought I’d see the day the great Jeon fall.” Jimin snorts.

You raise an eyebrow.

“What?” He shrugs, “He’s always telling us hyungs that he could one-up all of us with his eyes closed.”

Taehyung nods while Namjoon only chuckles at the statement.

“Not saying that you deserve it but you deserve it, man.” Taehyung laments.

Jungkook scowls from where he sits on the grass, but you’re nice as always when you reach a hand out for him to grab.

He stares at it, struck again by your kindness. And when he looks up the evening sunset flares behind you and you looked like a painting in a museum.

“Wow.” Jungkook blurts.

He didn’t mean to, and everyone caught on his stupefied expression.

“All right,” Namjoon rolls his eyes, tugging Jungkook up himself as the younger boy scowls at the moment being ruined. “Up, loverboy.”

You huff, turning on your heels to hide the way your cheeks had turned red when you noticed Jungkook’s gaze lingering longer than it should.

Taehyung and Jimin shoot each other a look, one that goes missing from you and the two other men. In fact, Jungkook shoots Namjoon a glare that he blissfully ignores in spite of trailing behind you, taking advantage of the fact that Jungkook’s legs are too wobbly to catch up.

“What the—?”

“Hurry up, Jeon. Yena’s waiting and you know how she gets when people are late!” Namjoon calls over his shoulder, before offering you a dimpled grin and grabbing your bag to alleviate the strain on your shoulder.

Jungkook knows that things are better and he’s damn grateful he’s able to be around you without watching over his words anymore. But the childish and immature side of him turns green when he sees the shy smile you return Namjoon.

He knows, that you feel the same way. But somehow his mind overthinks it and asks: what if?

“You look constipated,” Taehyung mumbles off-handedly, clasping a hand to his back when Jungkook stays rooted in position.

“Deserved,” Jimin says.

Jungkook scowls, dejectedly following close by as the five of you walk out of the field.

“That was absolutely uncomfortable.” Yena declares the moment she steps foot into your apartment.

You scowl.

“It wasn’t that bad …” You mumble.

Yena flops herself onto your couch and raises an eyebrow as if to say really.

“Listen I know you and Jeon exchanged vows and a dowry the other day but Namjoon is definitely a close contender. I swear I saw him whipping out a pen mid-meal to write you a love poem.”

You groan, flopping face forward as you stuff your scream into your cushion.

“Why me?” You cry.

You can feel Yena rolling her eyes behind you.

“Oh boo-hoo, your life is so hard. Two hot beefy men are in love with you, wow—things must be so difficult. Would you like a free pass in a therapy session?” She mocks pouts at you when you lift your head to glare up at her.

“They are not …” You remember what Jungkook said and you clear your throat, “… Namjoon isn’t …”

Yena scoffs.

“Well he’s definitely breaking ten different traffic laws to get there.” She retorts.

You slump back into your couch as you stare up at the ceiling.

“I thought things would get better.”

Yena shuffles until she’s settled comfortably next to you, “Are things … not?” She asks carefully.

You sigh, fiddling with the edge of your cushion.

“They are, don’t get me wrong.” You say softly, “It’s just that … I know Joon has feelings for me, and I know … I mean Jungkook is Jungkook,” You explain lamely and Yena awaits your continuation patiently. “I’m not stupid. I’m pretty sure they’re both aware of their feelings, and Jimin and Taehyung are just the bystanders witnessing shit hit the fan. And I’m … well, I’m there.”

“You mean you’re the main character.” She interjects.

You scowl, chucking the cushion at her as she dodges with a cackle.

“Things are better but they’re still weird.” You mumble.

Yena sighs, nodding understandingly as she pats your head softly.

“But you said you needed time, right? To figure things out on your own?” She asks.

You nod your head.

“Yeah,” You breathe, “I do. I mean, I know what I feel and I’ve felt this way for a long time. The only person I’ve ever … loved … is Jungkook. But I don’t know if that’s a byproduct of proximity and familiarity or because he was the only person that I’ve ever … you know.” You gesture your hands ambiguously but Yena gets the point.

“I understand.” She nods, “But things won’t be easy, not at first at least. It’s weird, I know. Going from your best friend to a potential lover, a stranger to a man who’s willing to put his star quarterback on the line and two best friends who are well—they’ve always been overbearing but they’re there.” She ends with a roll of her eyes.

Your face crumbles, “Why are things so complicated?” You cry, leaning onto her shoulder as she sighs and rubs a finger over your shoulder.

“You’ve got all the time in the world. You don’t owe anyone anything, remember that okay?” She hums softly.

“Just because you stare at them long enough doesn’t mean you suddenly get telepathic abilities.” Jimin snorts.

It’s been fifteen minutes since Jungkook’s stepped into the library, courtesy of Jimin who wanted to study for an upcoming test with him. It’s a step towards mending their friendship, and Jungkook is immensely grateful; so he didn’t think twice before responding to Jimin that he’d be their stat.

But he remembers that Jimin is cunning, not maliciously, but very impertinently. He was smart and sly all at once, and while he didn’t explicitly state anything—the timing seemed all too perfect for it to be purely a coincidence.

“Not staring,” Jungkook mutters.

Yet, his eyes remain trained on your figure.

Jungkook’s always had issues with envy, ever since he was younger. If someone made the cut before he did, he’d internally curse them out in his head and work ten times as hard out of spite. It’s somewhat toxic, but it allowed him to outdo himself every single time he felt that familiar green eyes emotion. He’s also no stranger to jealousy, and he’s remembered feeling the very same feeling he’s feeling now multiple times throughout his life, all for similar reasons.

You.

It wasn’t just because you were great at everything you did, excelling in your academics and extra-curricular, making students and superiors around you impressed with your work ethic. You were never ordinary; in fact, all you did in your life was outdo yourself in every single aspect and Jungkook always admired and envied that. It always made him feel like you were in two different worlds, where Jungkook had to work twice as hard compared to anyone else to achieve peak efficiency while you seemed to breeze by the things that you did.

Even when the two of you were in high school, he’d always fantasise what it would be like to be with you, to kiss you and to hold your hand or call you his. But he’s never thought you’d ever see him that way because all you’ve ever alluded to was him being nothing but a friend, a younger boy who had the stars in his eyes. If only you knew that it was a reflection of your face.

And the feeling is all too familiar, even when he first came to college and remembered seeing you interact with different guys that all seemed like they were taken with you. How could they not be? You were soft, sweet, kind and understanding—never the type to impose yourself or make others feel uncomfortable. You were a perfect combination of soft and relentless, the mixture of your best qualities and it seemed like Jungkook wasn’t the only person who saw that.

And he knew, he knew that you’d never lie to him, explicitly at least, or about things that mattered. So he doesn’t count your feelings, but it’s frustrating to have you right there but not at all. Especially when he recognises the look on Namjoon’s face intimately when he looks at you, bodies pressed adjacently in a booth in the library.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Jungkook scowls.

Jimin blinks innocently at his friend before a cheeky smile appears on his face, his hands pausing in between the sheets of his textbook.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He feigns innocence.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, further slumping in his chair before he forces himself to tear his wandering eyes away from you.

“What a way to rekindle a friendship …” He mutters dryly.

Jimin stares at Jungkook pointedly, “Hey, the library is open to all students. Don’t go pointing fingers at me.”

“Jimin, I literally suggested we head to an overnight cafe and you said if I wanted to fix us then I had to listen to you,” Jungkook says dryly, “And I quote—or else.”

“Okay, maybe I may have been projecting a little—”

“Jimin …” He groans.

“But look, it’s not the end of the world so don’t go ahead and get your panties in a twist, all right?” Jimin snorts, “Just 'cause she’s over there with Mr Beefy doesn’t mean you’re out of the race. Let’s just say you’re sporting a broken foot.”

Jungkook only responds with a bland look.

“That doesn’t—”

“—and a dislocated knee. Maybe a torn hamstring?” Jimin ponders like the details actually mattered. “Yeah, a pulled hamstring. A torn ACL too for a kick. And you know who’s fault all of that was?”

Jungkook sighs, “Yes, Jimin, I know. It’s me—”

“No. It’s me. Because I’m planning on dragging this out as far as I can even if you and she made amends. You fucked with someone I cared about and this is how I hold you accountable. I’m going to draw out every lone interaction she shares with Joon and make you watch it like the porn you consume in an unhealthy amount. I’ll make it so that all you’ll see when you close your eyes is the way hyung looks at her and how you can’t do anything but watch.”

Jimin says all of that in one go and with an unblinking stare. If Jimin was looking for a reaction, he definitely got one because Jungkook is gawking at him with a disturbed expression at how utterly menacing he looks.

“You’re fucking terrifying,” He exhales.

“And you’re a little shit,” Jimin returns with a huff. His eyes dart behind Jungkook for a second before his smile is expression is replaced with an evil grin, “Oh, look at that. He’s brushing her hair back—how cute.” He coos.

Jungkook groans, sinking into his chair when Jimin snickers.

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