#slightly different from my usual art but i kinda enjoy where this journey takes me
Text
Vorfreude
Aay, my first (at the time) Pitch x Reader one-shot!
Don’t fook your professors, folks.
“When understanding the root words of our modern day languages, it can be daunting to fully comprehend the detail such a language as English can be intertwined with a multitude of other languages long forgotten,”
Dr. Pitchiner was certainly entrancing when he spoke at the podium, flourishing a hand at the list of most common prefixes and suffixes used in today’s modern English, along with a surprise list of obscure ones you knew you had to take note on. Dr. Pitchiner wasn’t one to give easy exams, the last exam was so gruelling someone almost passed out from a panic attack at the multitude of pages.
Despite enjoying writing yourself, you weren’t as invested in English as he was, which was a given, hence the reason his PhD in English as well as a degree in Latin Translation. Many times he’s journeyed to Italy to help assist scholars in finding new information on the lost civilizations of Rome, Sicily, and Pompeii, and that credit alone was the sole reason he got the job at this state college. He should have been employed at universities like Harvard or Yale, or even Oxford or Princeton, but yet here he was, teaching at your simple state college with an acceptance rate of 93% and the highest transferring stat in all of your state.
Not a lot of students found him attractive like you did. Certainly there was more than a couple handfuls of girls, pockets of them, who’ve admired his lithe figure, his graceful movements and that firm ass that was way too snug in his black slacks. Most of them admired his physique from afar, some even daring others to get closer to flirt with him shamelessly, and usually that ended up with a bad memory for the attempted action, as well as the girl who tried to drop the class out of utter embarrassment at such a call out after class that could be heard around the hall.
Dr. Kozmotis Pitchiner took no bullshit from anyone, and that’s the main reason your heart fluttered at the thought and sight of him. This class wasn’t the first time you two had met face to face either, shockingly. Quite hilariously, the first time you two met, you didn’t even like him.
Three years ago, you were an itty bitty freshman just like the ones that recently arrived this semester, and to the best of your luck, you scored almost five hours of total free time on Mondays and Wednesdays before your Intro to Biology class and Intro to Psychology course after lunch.
Why not explore the gorgeous campus during those five hours? It would get you more acquainted with your surroundings and in small cases, make new friends! Grabbing a can of fruit juice and a danish from the dining hall, you munched as you explored the massive quad before discovering where the art gallery was, venturing towards the art and theatre buildings you’d be in the next year for your art perspective requirements. You found yourself meandering in the photograph-covered walled hallway of the English department, unknowingly headed towards the campus’s own local newspaper headquarters when a voice startled you from your entrancement with your journey.
“Hey. Where do you think you’re going?” a voice matching the texture of velvet came.
You turn around, frowning at the sudden startling noise. There just feet away from you, emerged from his office was a man dressed in what you would consider funeral appropriate attire, a smooth black suit with a basic black tie, and shiny black dress shoes that looked like they could reflect sunlight and somehow cause a car accident if he walked outside.
“I’m exploring. Where do you think you’re going?” you shot back, taking a long sip of your fruit juice.
You were mildly surprised to see a smirk cross his devious lips, his silver-gold eyes narrowing at your sass. He almost looked amused at your attitude, even enough so that his tensed shoulders relaxed, but his arms still remained folded over his chest.
“At the moment, I’m going wherever you think you’re headed, which should be in the opposite direction you’re headed.”
Ooh, he likes playing word games. You took another sip and then took a big bite of your danish, not caring about how childish you were coming off to him. You pointed towards the hallway, “Why can’t I go down there?”
He gestured his head in the same direction, “It’s merely copy rooms and computer labs meant for the Daily Mascot Oracle. Nothing worth checking out.”
“Oh. That’s a shit title.” you commented.
He barked out a heartwarming laugh. You grin at him, glad he finally was capable of taking that stick out of his ass and be a decent human being. Almost three times so far in just two days you got two people to really dislike your presence and your sassy attitude, someone named Bunnymund and another elfish looking kid named Jack who’s definition of fun didn’t match yours at all.
“I certainly didn’t agree to it either, but the editor in chief made sure my vote was outnumbered,” he hesitated, thinking quickly before glancing at you, “Are you a freshman?”
You nodded, knowing what he would ask next, “Majoring in psychology with hopefully a minor in alternative medicine and therapy.”
He looked genuinely impressed, “I must say, it’s quite refreshing to have a new student under that field. Not a lot of freshmen choose that whilst entering for their first year. What makes you like that field of study so much?”
You shrugged with a smile, “I like the whole concept of the human mind and how it functions on an emotional state. It’s interesting how certain actions and emotions can create feelings inside us, and I especially love the study of dreams and fears and hopes. I want to do a project on dream therapy for my senior thesis when it comes time to that, but I doubt they’ll let me. Professor Oren didn’t like hearing me say that at orientation.”
Dr. Pitchiner nodded, “Oren doesn’t really believe in the science behind dreams, and certainly not the spirituality behind it if you believe in that sort of thing. I certainly do.”
“You do?” you were genuinely surprised, literally taken aback. You wouldn’t have considered such an eloquent, smooth and finely dressed man to believe in a spirituality. He reeked of realist to you, you certainly weren’t expecting that.
He nodded again, “Of course. It’s only natural for the human psyche to become understandable to a certain degree, and it’s been proven through many other cultures that such things exist, like the sixth sense or empathy or precognition. Why not in dream analyzation? It’s fascinating, I’m glad you’re interested in it. If I wasn’t an English professor I would immediately return to college to take advantage of that.”
That’s when you realized how gold his eyes were, how they sparkled like the richest coins ever discovered in the vastness of the sunken world of ships at the bottom of the ocean. His eyes gave away intense wisdom, feeling and intellect that you felt the need to learn from. You needed to unlock every part of him to see beyond that gaze he gave you with that strange upturn at the corner of his devilish mouth.
Sure enough, you eventually found yourself in his class a couple years later for your required English Analysis course, and the both of you took advantage of that. You found yourself wandering back to his office between classes and office hours, knowing full well no one visited him nor had the courage to due to his harshness in class and strict code he sticks to in not forming attachments to the student body. For you, somehow you were able to break that barrier and see a different kind of man than what people upfront knew him as.
Your friend Katherine is your first and only senior friend at the university, and from her story when you signed up for his course at the beginning of the year, he was known to be callous and strict, such a polar opposite to leniency that even if you were sick with proof of illness, he wouldn’t accept that as an excused absence unless you flourished a medical note from a doctor to him. Everyone feared him, but admired him from afar since he’s the only professor to actually cut down on the bullshitters and slackers in class, and is one of the most respected professors there because of his adventures in Italy as a historian as well as a translator.
You, however, knew him as a sarcastic, good humored intellect with an avid thirst for learning the unknown, and unlocking skills he’s never attempted. From the times you would visit his office or bump into each other in the hallways and have small talk, you learned that at one point in his life he was just as brash, brazen and impulsive as you are now. Before he considered becoming a professor, he was eager to study what you were studying in now, especially the study of phobias and humans’ reactions to certain fear-triggering events or objects. You were the only one that’s ever heard him snort at a god-awful joke you would attempt at, and the only one that’s ever seen him grin at you in such a way it made your stomach flip and flutter.
Perhaps you exposed yourself too much to him, or perhaps he was just so relatable you felt like you sometimes felt like you were talking to a part of yourself you’ve never discovered before. It slightly scared you how much he knew about you and it wasn’t even the end of the fall semester, but you trusted him in ways you’ve never trusted another before. He always promised you absolute confidentiality with your confessions to him, most out of pure merriment and in the goal of a strengthened friendship, like when you told him when you were fourteen you tried blending into the popular clique but still found yourself drawn to the nerds and theater kids once more. He once gave you such a dubious smirk at the notion of you once being the stereotypical geek, with what you claimed to be the unattractive flat hair, braces and awkward gait.
“I can hardly believe that of you.” he chuckled.
“Why? You can kinda tell, don’t lie.” you winked teasingly.
He tilted his head in his hand at you, looking your figure up and down so slowly and languidly that it made your face heat up with a sudden thrill you haven’t felt in a long time.
“Whoever you were before has grew into a fine young woman, that’s most of what I can see.” he looked at you seriously, his eyes hard with truth.
Ever since that you realized that the idea of him being closer than what you two already were was something else you wanted. You thirsted for it, like an obsession. Unhealthy, you weren’t sure, but you were careful not to give yourself away to him, in fear that it would destroy that friendship you two already had. Without anyone’s knowledge but his, you both called each other by your first names. You called him Koz, and he called you by the nickname you wanted him to call you.
Even just watching him write on the board, hearing his voice wrap you lovingly in it’s deep musical tones made your legs tighten in excitement. You furrowed your brows, trying to ignore the incoming thoughts of his voice saying your name like a mantra as you wrote down everything being scribbled on the board.
The guy next to you noticed your discomfort, and nudged his elbow with yours. You looked at him, affronted, “What?”
“You look pissed. You okay?” he looked suspicious.
“Shut up, I’m fine.”
“(y/n).”
Your blood froze, looking up at him in pure fear at being called out in front of class. His hands were folded behind his back, his eyes lingering on you and only you. The class stared at you, nearly a thousand eyes focused on your nervous leg bouncing and the pen in your hand being crushed by the amount of attention drawn onto you.
“I see you have already started to discuss with Stephen,” you could swear to the moon above he smirked ruefully, “Would you like to tell us what the definition of vorfreude is?”
You gulped quickly before looking down at your paper, noticing that the last couple notes were not even notes, they were sinful descriptions of what you wanted him to do to your mouth and in between your thighs. Your face grew incredibly red to the point it prickled your skin as you stood up. You never broke eye contact with him. You can’t be weak now.
“Vorfreude is a German word to define a type of intense anticipation of imagining future pleasures.”
He nodded, his smirk subsiding to something even darker at the moment you uttered the word ‘future’, “Excellent. Glad to see you’re still paying attention despite your distractions.”
Some people snickered at your red face deepening in color as you plopped back down in your seat. By now Koz was shuffling the exams collected last week, freshly graded and corrections that could leave someone in tears if not taken lightly.
As he passed around the graded exams going over the class’s weak points and what to look forward to for the next midterm, you doodled a bit more in your notebook and wrote more lines of absolute sin into a poetic verse, something E. E. Cummings would be absolutely proud of.
You read over your lines, admiring the visual rhymes as well as the absolute clear imagery of being locked into him, his arms like a vice as he would pull your hair and bite at the sensitive parts of your neck, and even now you squirmed at the daydream of such a carnal act going on in his office. More than anything, more than just impressing him with your knowledge and sharp tongue would be for him to pin you to the desk and make you cry out his name in ecstasy as your legs would quiver with release. You bit your lip as you tightened your grip on your sweatshirt, trying your damn hardest not to accidentally make a noise.
That’s when you noticed the shadow lurking over you.
You froze. Your entire body became still with horror and your blood turned cold as Koz read over your carnal poem and observed your lewd doodles with a casual eye as he handed you your exam. You reached out for it with a shaking hand and slowly placed it over the notebook page, knowing it was too late to hide the damage.
“Please see me after class about your note-taking.”
You nodded, trying to fight tears from the utter embarrassment as he finished handing out the exams. You close your notebook in disgust with yourself. Koz continues the class until 5:45, the usual time it ends when everyone wastes no time in dilly dallying and immediately leaving, most if not all heading to the dining hall for dinner. You, planning to indulge in just a minor dinner consisting of cereal or soup out of embarrassment and sadness, packed up slowly.
“(y/n), a word please.” he beckoned from his podium.
You refused to look at him as you stepped down from the lecture hall stairs to the podium, your backpack slung over your shoulder and your confidence crumbling even further as you waited with baited breath as he finished shutting off the projector and computer.
“You have quite a knack for poetry for someone who says English isn’t their forte, as well as for a psychology major.” he calmly noted, hardly glancing at you.
You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t hold it in anymore and let it burst from your chest, all your thoughts jumbled into a single rambling mess, “I swear I didn’t intend for you to see it, I just-I just-I don’t know why I did that and I know I messed up our friendship, it’s all my fault and I’m really really sorry, I seriously wasn’t thinking and I just can’t help but feel these things and it just makes it worse when I think about you, I don’t know what to do about it-”
A hand crept around the back of your neck and forced your head up, and without even a single warning you felt warm, wet lips enveloping yours, biting sweetly as well as fervently. You couldn’t help but make a noise of startlement at the sudden action, but before you could even have time to melt into the kiss, he pulled away, a smirk on his face.
“It’d be inappropriate for me to do such things, but more inappropriate for you to act on it as well. Yet, I know you are wise enough to not pursue it like you want to.” he stated, his eyes resembling molten gold.
Your gaze flattened, “Koz, what the fuck was that if you say you’re not ‘pursuing it’.”
He grinned, “Your confirmation of your feelings, as well as a promise of patience.”
“Patience?”
He smirked again, tilting his head and embracing the feel of superiority again, “You have nearly one more year left. I wonder if you have the patience to stick it out-”
That pissed you off. You grabbed his black tie and pulled him down, startling him as you kissed him hard. You pulled away just as quickly, enjoying the look of surprise on his face as well as slight bewilderment at being cut off from gloating.
You smiled innocently, smoothing down his tie as well as the front of his jacket, “Nice to know I’m not the only one enjoying the feeling of vorfreude from now on. Have a good day, Professor.”
Without a second backwards glance, you confidently strode out of the lecture hall, leaving Koz impressed as well as out of breath at your grand exit. He didn’t realize he’d be aching for you just as much as you ached for him.
It’s only a year, right? Not too long…
Boy were you two wrong.
#pitch black#pitch black x reader#reader insert#fanfiction#fanfics#fanfic commissions#fanfiction commissions#rise of the guardians#rise of the guardian fanfics#university au
122 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mafia Blood- Chapter 1
ayyyyyyy! It’s ya boi!.... *coughs* so how you been?.... yeah sorry for not posting in a while.... I kinda get sidetracked... BUT! I now have a story. I’m about 3-4 chapters in writing it (cause i suck at writing with a really short time period so I want to be ahead). Its on the BBS! But I hope you enjoy it. It’s a Mafia-Monster A/U (Idea credit to @hiyometoo). I would like to put a disclaimer as well. There will be some serious themes such as suicide, abuse blood, death. If you are uncomfortable with this, this story isn’t for you. Adding to that. this is a story. I do not view these people or the relationships between them to necessarily be who they are in real life. But I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. I don’t really have art for it but I’ll be working on it! If you want to do art or get inspired by it, by all means draw it if you wish! @ me if you post it so I can see it! I love seeing people draw and different art styles! This story isn’t the best but I hope you guys enjoy anyway. This isn’t a Shipping book either, even if some of the writing seems to suggest so. It’s more so hinting at future friendships as such. One more thing before I let you guys get the story. I’ll be posting the story chapters once a month (on like the last Sunday AEST). Anyway I’ll let you guys read it and judge for yourself! I hope you guys are having a good day/night and I’ll see you soon!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 1
Every river leads to an ocean. Stars do burn out. So yes, everything ends. But do you want to know a secret? Everything- and I mean everything, begins again.
-Eric Van Vuren
It was a quiet night for the casino. There were still a lot of people but not as much as there usually was.
“You sure everything is in place?” Ryan’s concerned voice was quiet as he hid behind the pillar.
“Yes Ohm. All you have to do is get people to use their cards over their cash. Everything will be fine.” Wildcat spoke slowly and quietly, as if he were distant from the mic while making sure Ohm heard everything.
“OK… Here goes nothing…” Ohm airily said.
“Good luck man. We’re rooting for you.” That’s all Ohm heard before the line went dead.
"OK… no pressure at all guys. No pressure at all.”
He felt that something was up. It almost seemed to quiet of a night, especially with what he had to pull off. He walked out from behind the pillar, taking a deep breath and putting on his best-selling smile. Eyes were felt on the back of his head but he ignored it. Looking would only make him seem suspicious. Ohm did however peek out the corner of his eye. He saw a demon. He seemed to be missing an eye but Ohm didn’t look for long enough to be sure though.
He continued his trek towards the bar, shaking his head as he neared, trying to clear his mind.
“Hey Del! Sorry I took so long! Things got a little out of hand on the phone. Hope things didn’t get too busy while I was gone!” Ohm’s voice was bright, but had an edge to it.
Delirious gave him an understanding nod, his blue eyes glowing behind the hockey mask.
“No problem man. Just make sure you focus on whatever it is that’s happening with your fam.”
“Thanks. I’ll… be sure to do that.” He gave a grim smile a jolt uncertainty gripping him.
He shook his head again and slipped behind the bar and began to serve people, charging them on card.
It was made a lot easier considering Delirious was working the opposite end of the bar. It raised more red flags in his head but he continued anyway.
‘He was family. They wouldn’t betray him… would they?’
Delirious had been occupied talking to an owl like man. One that Ohm recognised to be Vanoss.
‘What was he doing here?’
A demon of sorts sat in front of him downing the shot of vodka he had just ordered His eyes- well eye- narrowed on him slightly.
“Hey floppy ears! That owl shit over there that you keep looking to, why does he get to pay with cash? I gotta pay with card.” The demon asked curiously, peering at him suspiciously.
One eye had a scar in the shape of a jagged edge 'x’. He wore a dark suit with the dress shirt collar flipped up like he was some sort of popular person. He held a lazy-confident sort of smile despite the serious demeanour he held. His dark brown eyes hiding something, though Ohm couldn’t tell what it was.
“Sir, you haven’t paid for the last two rounds. It would be easier if you-”
“You think I’m that drunk that I don’t remember paying? I-”
“Look sir. I’m sorry. I just thought it would be easier for you. Instead of you fishing out cash and me having to get the change. If you’d-” He was cut off by the demon standing up and leaning on the bar, a somewhat sinister smile on his face.
The look in his eye showed something else, it almost looked like regret.
Some people looked over at the disturbance but looked away almost instantly.
‘What was their problem? They looked so scared.’ Ohm thought as he glanced back at the red man in front of him through his blindfold.
“Don’t pull the innocent act with me bunny-boy. I know who you are! I know who you work for!”
Ohm’s ears flattened down against his head. He didn’t like the name, a small frown formed on his face as his eyebrows furrowed.
“Yes. I work for Mr. Frank Patterson. He owns this casino.” There was an edge to Ohm’s voice, causing monsters to look his way and shaking their head rapidly, their eyes screaming ‘no’.
“No. No you don’t. My father wouldn’t hire anyone from the mafia. Especially from Wildcats’ side of things.”
“Sir… I don’t kno-”
“Bullshit!” The demon now had hold of Ohm dark vest, pulling him closer. “Tyler sent you, didn’t he Ryan.” There was a dark sinister side to his voice but there was something else, as if he were almost afraid of something.
“I swear to god I have no clue what you’re talking abo-” Ohm was cut off by Delirious speaking up, who now had a firm grip on his left arm, the demon on his right held the opposite.
“You will remain silent for the rest of the journey.”
A feeling passed over Ohm; it felt like his voice box had closed up and a weight pressed on his chest, making him want to take deep breaths but remained from doing so. He tried to speak but no sound could be heard, leaving the three men in silence.
“Finally the dumb bunny is quiet.” The demon sighed in a relieved kind of way.
Ohm narrowed his eyes, a scowl scrunching his face up.
‘He’s really starting to sound like Wildcat…’
“I wouldn’t mistake Ohm for being a ‘dumb bunny’, Cartoonz. I don’t even know what power he has, so I’d be careful what you say.” Delirious’ voice held a sharp and serious edge to it.
Ohm looked to delirious, confused.
‘He hadn’t figured out his power?’
Cartoonz grumbled something under his breath as he moved to get behind the bar, jerking Ohm forward harshly, towards the exit as he did so.
They neared two Corvettes, one black and the other an azure blue.
“In.” The demon growled as he opened the passenger door to the black Corvette and shoved Ohm forward.
Ryan stumbled but caught himself before sitting calmly as the door was slammed and the demon stormed towards the driver’s side. He shouted something to Delirious before opening the door and throwing himself into the seat with a scowl.
“I know you won’t be able to reply but you can nod or shake your head. If you lie, I’ll know.” Cartoonz sounded agitated but also curious.
The car roared to life and before Ohm could blink they were out of the carpark with a screech of rubber and a trail of smoke following.
They were currently on a highway to nowhere, well from what Ohm could only assume. Cartoonz was staring intensely at the road ahead, while the blue car stayed close behind them.
“Ok, you blindfold wearing dipshit. Is Wildcat planning on trying to over throw my father?” Cartoonz questioned.
Ohm looked thoughtful for a moment. He knew that if he lied he’d probably get his assed kicked, but it was the same vice-versa. He came to the conclusion of telling the truth, it being the lesser of the two evils. Ohm nodded his head yes.
“Was he planning on doing it in the near future?”
Ohm nodded again.
The demon cursed under his breath. “Really starting to wish Del didn’t bind your mouth shut permanently for the ride… how on earth am I going to get the time frame of the attack?”
Ohm stared thoughtfully at the demon before holding up 1 finger.
“What the fuck are you doing? Threatening me?”
Ohm shook his head.
Cartoonz looked to be in serious thought.
“What are you trying to do then?”
Ohm rolled his eyes under the blindfold and slapped his head.
‘Is he really that stupid?’
“Are you giving me a time? Day?”
Ohm gave a quirt nod.
Cartoonz gave him a side long look.
“You’re being awfully open about this…” Cartoonz looked suspicious.
Ohm shrugged but held up the figure again.
“OK… you are giving me a time span right?” There seemed to be a softer edge to his voice, like something changed in his head.
Ohm nodded.
“OK… week?”
A shake of the head.
“Um… please don’t say it’s a day.” A light panic seemed to tint the demons voice.
Ohm looked at him curiously.
‘Despite him being an ass… he seems to really care for his family.’
Ohm shook his head.
Relief flooded the demons features and his grip lessened on the steering wheel.
“OK then… a month?”
His heart was pounding. He had one more chance to falsely lead them, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to do so.
Ohm looked away and nodded. He could deal with Wildcat’s anger.
And worse come to worse, he could flee to Moo’s group.
Cartoonz slammed the steering wheel harshly. “When we get there you’re gonna tell me exactly how and where he plans to do this. Or your neck will find itself bleeding.”
Cartoonz gave him a look that said it wasn’t an empty threat. But there was also something in his eye that told him that Cartoonz wouldn’t actually enjoy it. Ohm only nodded and looked ahead, his eyes beginning to droop.
“Get some rest. I want you to be able to recall every detail of the plan and not be sleepy. ‘Cause you forget shit when you’re sleepy.”
Ohm nodded, he was feeling tired and besides, if he was going to die, he wanted to catch up on some sleep before then.
He rested his head against the seatbelt, letting sleep numb his body.
“I’ll wake you when we’re there.”
It was the last thing he heard before falling asleep.
#bbs#bbs crew#ohmwrecker#cartoonz#bbs cartoonz#h2o delirious#writing#fan writing#BBS Mafia/Monster A/U#i hope you enjoy#have a good day/night
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Diary of a Junebug
All aboard the Midnight Train
One of the hardest parts of embarking on a big journey is taking the first step. I can say for certain that you will definitely stumble and fall - believe me, I’ve fallen further than I’ve moved forward - but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.
That’s not to say you don’t have every right to be ticked off when things go wrong. I mean mishaps can be a good learning experience, but it’s okay to get frustrated when you lose your way.
Hell, it’s absolutely okay to bail out and throw in the towel when you’re just not feeling it. Perseverance is good, but sometimes it’s okay to say “fuck this shit, I’m out” - not to mention freeing if it’s about something that’s really dragging you down.
Sometimes life doesn’t work out. It fucking sucks but in most cases there’s nothing you can really do other than carry on. As my mom says, what’s done is done. Stop trying to build a house if it brings you more frustration than joy - tear the whole damn thing down and burn the remains if you have to.
Funny how far your mind can wander when you’re on a train. With nothing but trees, beautiful landscapes, and the starry night skies, deep thoughts are bound to run free. Especially when it’s about something that’s been on your mind for a while.
At the start of the new year, Daisy Jane decided to leave Rosevine. Like many other old friends - and myself - as much as we love our charming little town, we were starting to outgrow it. After spending almost two years at home stuck in a limbo, Daisy Jane had enough and packed her bags. Her mom wasn't too on board with the idea as she doesn’t really have the means to support herself but nevertheless she gave her daughter her blessing to go out in the world.
Daisy Jane’s one of those people who deserve so much more and yet usually ends up with the short end of the stick. She’s one of the most creative people I know and could easily make it as an artist if she had the support. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not nagging on her family, but at times they don’t respect her enough - especially her sister.
What I’m saying is that Daisy Jane could've become an artist if she wanted to, but disapproval from family is a hefty roadblock. They say doubt kills more dreams than failure but what about strict family expectations? Asian parents, amirite?
Tired of sitting around at home, getting repeatedly rejected in a career involving a degree she worked her ass off for, and being put down for not being as successful as everyone else, Daisy Jane needed to get out. So she did, taking a leap of faith and jumping straight into the unknown. She didn’t have a plan in mind, but sometimes you just gotta cut and run before you lose your nerve.
Months of traveling led her to the small village of Neptunia as she was running low on funds. What seemed like a promising new start quickly fell apart as soon as she stepped into her new house. That’s because it’s not actually her house - it belongs to someone else. Because Neptunia is so small and resources are limited, Daisy Jane is stuck rooming with a stranger. And both have to pay off the remaining mortgage, adding to the annoyance of both since the main resident already paid off a huge part of it herself.
Because of the living situation, Daisy Jane’s not too keen about living in Neptunia now. Her housemate’s nice and all but neither one were prepared for the roommate situation. Had she known about that, Daisy Jane wouldn’t have gone through with the move. But knowing how bad Tom Nook felt about the miscommunication regarding housing (you just can’t stay mad at him for too long - and in his defense, Neptunia’s kinda on the bottom of his list of villages he’s overseeing so it’s easy to forget things) Daisy Jane decided to stick around and see how things work out.
Six months in and things have been pretty meh for Daisy Jane. She didn’t want to dwell on the negatives too much but I suspected that she wasn’t entirely truthful. Always eager to please and willing to silently suffer, that Daisy Jane. Instead of creating art like she wants to, Daisy Jane’s been selling pears and shells, randomly planting stuff around the village, and running errands for everyone. She doesn’t mind doing all that (well, except maybe the garden, which she admits isn’t something she’s too excited about) but it all seems kinda anticlimactic. It also doesn’t help that Neptunia’s kinda isolated so there’s rarely any visitors, so things are pretty monotonous.
And to top it all off, Daisy Jane’s experiencing the absolute worst art block ever. By spending all her waking hours trying to pay off a mortgage, saving up for a rainy day, and catering to everyone else’s needs, she rarely has time for herself - or her creativity.
I really miss seeing her art online. It’s been months since she last posted something she made and it’s sad. You never know how much you miss something until it’s gone. The same can be said about creativity.
I’ve had my moments where my creativity and motivation for art burns out and it’s not a good feeling. Being someone who is driven by creating art, losing that spark is one of my biggest fears because without it, I’d be nothing. Art is one of those things that keep me going so to lose that means I’ve lost my purpose. I’d hate to think about what happens if my creativity is gone for good.
And what’s even worse is that I’m afraid Daisy Jane’s headed for that direction if she doesn’t take action soon. I suspected something from our texts and her posts, but seeing her in person really puts things into perspective.
She’s not one for selfies, her last one being taken over a year ago, so seeing her face for the first time in forever, I almost didn’t recognize her. From her hair being tied into three messy pigtails instead of adorned with pretty clips to the concealer hiding away the bags under her eyes and the slightly too dark blush on her face (what happened to her naturally rosy cheeks?) as well as the slightly ragged Nook shirt a couple sizes too large, I could’ve sworn that she was someone else.
Visiting Neptunia wasn’t too bad, but it’s no Wizpire. Things are just a tad bit too slow for my liking - and a bit outdated as well, then again what do you expect in these parts? Honestly I’m surprised that Tom Nook still keeps tabs on this village, especially since he’s busy with islands and such. Then again, he does feel bad about Daisy Jane’s housing mishap so he’s been dropping by quite a bit to check in on her.
To say that Daisy Jane’s been frustrated is an understatement. She describes it as escaping from one prison only to get stuck in a trap. Except staying in the trap is more practical than going back out on the road where it’s unpredictable. So she’s in a position where she feels like she can’t really complain because it’s not like she’s stuck in the middle of nowhere. It’s not an ideal situation but sometimes you need to pick and choose your battles.
I can’t tell Daisy Jane what to do since it’s not up to me, nor should I try to influence her in any way, but I can take her away for a bit. An outsider’s perspective can be super helpful, especially if you’ve been looking way too closely and missing out on the big picture. I know I’ve fallen into that trap too many times, wasting too much time and energy on one small piece without considering the overall grand scheme of things.
So we took out the train amenity to go on a late night ride. We’ve been meaning to bring back the train and this was the perfect opportunity for it. A scenic route’s the perfect way to escape from monotony and let your mind wander without putting too much effort into it.
Also, Daisy Jane enjoys long train rides as she’s the kind of artist who breaks out a sketchbook to capture the view outside her window. It’s amazing what she can do with a pen (yes, she uses a ballpoint pen and does so with full confidence) and paper. It would be a shame to see her talent and passion go to waste.
The train ride was super relaxing and beautiful to look at. Of course, it didn’t solve Daisy Jane’s problems, but it was a good retreat. I can tell by how much her eyes lit up that she’s feeling a lot better than she had in a long time. I had suggested that she bring her sketchbook along as well as a pen (no pencil, because that’s now how Daisy Jane works!) and that did wonders for her.
I never thought that the sight of Daisy Jane scribbling in her sketchbook with ink stained hands would bring me as much joy as it did tonight. I’m pretty sure she filled about half the book in the span of a couple hours.
Creativity can be fickle. Sometimes it flows in a steady stream, sometimes it comes and goes, and other times it goes into a drought before flooding back like a storm. The latter is what describes Daisy Jane. Hopefully the storm will lead to a steady flow of inspiration. After all, you can’t keep the tide from coming in, even after a long dry spell.
The night’s still young and there’s still so much to see. It’s just me and Daisy Jane in the train but it feels like we’re in different worlds. There she is, scribbling away, capturing the views outside her window. Jagged shapes for mountains, curving lines for rivers, scattered stars bringing a night sky to life - even in rough sketches, you can tell it’s unmistakably Daisy Jane.
A train ride won’t solve all of Daisy Jane’s problems, but it’s a start.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Boots reads Homestuck Epilogue part... one..??
Alright, let’s do this. As I’ve said, the page after this one is all I’ve seen, I’m diving in unspoiled. Also I gather from some of the non-spoilery chatter I’ve heard from my friends -- one of which warned me this sort of thing was coming a couple weeks ago, and I believed them (but didn’t want to) -- that this first epilogue-upd8 may not be the only epilogue-upd8, which isn’t surprising either given how Andrew works.
Alright, let’s go. Hope my stomach can take it!
So, Page 1, the mock-AO3 page that’s the only thing I’ve seen before posting this. The content warning is EXCELLENT, and gives me hope that this will be the usual Hussie-caliber and more humorous than heartwrenching. :)
It also makes some serious sense that there would be multiple epilogues; from the sound of the summary, this one might focus more on John and then leave ample opportunity to discuss the others.
Let’s click page 2 -- oh, or contents: “Prologue”, this being a chapter list for this is another way to do it. Clicking Prologue.......
Okay wow, this is novel format for the moment. Good chance it won’t stay that way.
These first two paragraphs are well-written and ominous, sure -- describing stuff we pretty much already knew was happening, in different words -- but even though the writing isn’t really pretentious, there’s still a good chance Andrew *views* it as pretentious enough to find cutting away to art-style instead hilarious. Onto the third paragraph...
Music and Calliopes the other Calliope is conducting, yeah... Oh, there’s a garbage disposal reference. In regards to a black hole. Like the one I kind of pointed to during Dave’s intro sequence in the Third Scratch theory and stuff in all those big theories. The ones I was, er, wrong about... ahem. Moving on.
“Your name is John Egbert, and you have just had a terrible, deeply pretentious nightmare.”
Pfffffffff :D
I love you Andrew Hussie. Reading on...
YES I see chat colors. Chat colors!!! I need chat colors. Reading reading reading let me get down to them let me
Absolutely nothing of note has ever happened here in the entire history of the planet, which you would know, because you created it.
Baahahahahah. :D
Okay yes I’m at the phone-sterlog.
Uh oh.
I am reading elevated levels of angst compared to usual pesterlogs in this log. Which is to say, virtually any at all, really. THAT doesn’t bode well for the outcome/overall tone of this epilogue. :X --Not to say it isn’t *appropriate*, given they still haven’t fixed/resewn Paradox Space together, but... yeah, *future feels* are popping up on the radar, that’s what I’m worried about. I loved the tone of the snapchats and the feeling that everything was going to be fine, especially given how the ending “not being what I expected” shook me a fair bit, but to look forward to when that may end... D:
Yeah, Rose having some serious visions about some unfinished business they need to get around to instead of just fucking around and living their lives makes sense. :X --or at least some timeline version of them. I’m imagining they’re living varied, excellent lives in a whole TON of timelines of promise that commit our imaginings of their potential futures to virtual canon, really, with the main thread that ties off Caliborn’s stage play almost irrelevant in comparison... that was kind of the whole point of the Ending of homestuck earlier, of that final anime flash, the fact that the victory and planet and *lives* they won meant a whole lot more than whatever Lord English’s irrelevant machinations were.
So... returning to the tail end of that main thread and seeing how *serious* it might be....... yeah. Kinda mildly panic-inducing. :XXX
You move the phone away from your ear and assume an expression you haven’t practiced in years. It is the look of a man who actually has something to do.
Okay that was good.
Ah, he’s twenty-three now!
Let’s click the next link. ==>
Fuck let’s not recount Rose’s substance abuse.
Oh, cool. Er, “cool”. Rose is getting some of Rosejaspersprite^2′s awareness of all her alternate-timeline doomed selves and their lives. No wonder she’s worried about the substance abuse she technically mostly *avoided* in this timeline.
Light explicitly relating to knowledge, good. That’s a nice aspect tidbit to have reiterated.
ROSE: There’s a different scale I’ve come to understand. Another dichotomy that’s less... emotional, I guess?
ROSE: Consider, instead of the word “good,” using the word “essential.”
ROSE: And what exists at the opposite polarity from essential is...
ROSE: Something that is best not to contemplate.
ooh. oooooh. holy shit.
okay NO, BOOTS/BKEW. DON’T GET FUCKING EXCITED.
DON’T get excited.
It only SOUNDS like she’s learned to recontextualize the whole adventure in the rich context of the classpect system, that’s just your wild fanfic-y theoryimagination talking. Shoosh. (Even though she IS very, very, *very* clearly referencing the Light/Void dichotomy with the above quote.) Just... tamp down your hopes, Boots. Leave it at MILD hope. Like cool porridge.
Reading on.
Alright, yeah, this universe exists beyond the timespan of the Green Sun’s influence. Unsurprising, since it was heavily implied. And she doesn’t have access to her expanded Green Sun powerset while *in* such a universe, which was also heavily implied by alt!Calliope or her denizen or I forget the exact conversation where it said she’d have to make the final journey without Green Sun powers or whatever. That’s cool. (Though having it spelled out more explicitly than usual does make it more awkward to have her use her powers for humorous purposes on MXRP in the future.)
OOOH DAVE KARKAT AND JADE ARE IN A PERPLEXING SOCIAL ARRANGEMENT YESSSSS :D
Best news. Okay reading on.
ROSE: You will need to travel back into canon and defeat Lord English.
Yeah I guess.
Again, the way the ending sort of put it was that..... our heroes did have to defeat Lord English eventually? Or set right some prior stuff like doing the stage play? But that part of the point of this whole story -- the Ultimate Reward -- was that it didn’t really matter, because they had earned nigh-infinite branching timelines of promise in a brand new universe where they could go YEARS AND YEARS living their lives in many of the ways they wished, richly enjoying themselves and starting civilizations that would last billions of years, loving and living and experiencing, only “needing” to go finally check off these other responsibilities in a single timeline of promise at the end of an extended period of vacation they chose with no particular urgency. Branching years-and-years of essentially heaven as long as they EVENTUALLY fulfilled that particular endpoint, and they knew it. More or less.
Rose phrases it pretty explicitly, though. John’s powers are the only thing that can warp people through canon like that without restriction, so he was always to be involved, but... *he* needs to defeat him? Does that mean alone?
JOHN: yeah, i had a feeling that was going to come up again someday.
ROSE: I’m sure we all did. That is, even those of us without visions.
JOHN: i was doing my best not to think about it. i guess we can’t put it off any longer then?
ROSE: Now is the time. We are rapidly approaching a point of no return. If the decision isn’t made soon, it will be too late. The issue will no longer matter.
JOHN: when exactly is the point of no return?
ROSE: Today.
JOHN: wow.
JOHN: ok then.
Ouch.
That’s slightly more abrupt than the picture of branching bliss I just painted.
JOHN: fine?
ROSE: Of course everything is fine here.
ROSE: We’re outside of canon now.
JOHN: yeah, i know. what does that actually MEAN though?
JOHN: are you saying this isn’t really happening?
ROSE: Of course it’s happening.
ROSE: Just because certain events take place outside of canon, it doesn’t mean those events are non-canon.
JOHN: oh.
ROSE: In other words, there is an important distinction between events which can be considered to occur inside canon, outside canon, and those which are not canon at all.
ROSE: The day we went through that door and claimed our reward, we passed a threshold between continua marked by differing degrees of relevance, truth, and essentiality.
Well okay then. I was wondering why she used the word “canon”. They literally DID escape the narrative literally as *well* as figuratively with that Juju, then, Neverending Story style.
Also, Light being highly tied to canon and Rose having spent so much time outside of it... yeah, I can understand the headaches more, too.
Alright, reading on, it seems Andrew is using Rose to more explicitly explain how he intends all the non-canon stuff he’s presented to us to “matter”, for those who didn’t quite get or fully believe the implied explanation from context towards the end of the story.
Heh, so the idea is that the urgency comes from “it’s been too fucking long since the story ended, and this epilogue needs to come out when an epilogue would still matter to anyone”. That’s kind of brilliant.
ROSE: As long as we live outside canon, everything that happens will technically be “real,” but only conditionally.
ROSE: There are certain crucial events inside canon which must happen in order to continue to prop up the legitimacy of events here on Earth C.
ROSE: And you specifically, John, have a responsibility to make sure those events take place.
Closing threads closing threads CLOSING THREADS :D !!!!!!
FUCK is this epilogue going to be mostly devoted to TYING UP LOOSE ENDS and clarifying stuff??? :D Like the HUNDREDS OF LOOSE ENDS that were left unanswered because the ending tried to paint it all as sidelined/irrelevant regardless of the fact that they hadn’t been answered/fulfilled, which had previously pretty much traumatized me around Homestuck’s end because I was (1) so used to Andrew expertly tying up almost every loose end eventually and (2) was a theorycrafter with explicit investment in the idea that Classes, Aspects, and most of these loose ends actually DID matter??? :D
Sign me the fuck up!!! :DDDD
...I know it’s doubtfully going to be anything close to all I hoped for, but still. Answers, contextualization, and John tying up loose threads. Like that final frog warped in front of Jade as a child. That’s good, that’s VERY good. I’m excited instead of nauseous. :D
--and yeah, reading on, Rose makes more explicit what I said earlier that the justification Andrew’s painting for this is “we have to wrap up all these loose ends before everyone forgets about Homestuck.” That is hilarious.
Okay, so the juju is a big plothole. Heheh. We’ve heard it called that earlier.
...Oh. Oh huh.
Rose is pretty much explicitly talking about the stage play consisting of a bunch of non-canon ALTERNATE VERSIONS of themselves that mean the original versions of them living happily in the new universe won’t actually die. Holy shit. I mean we theorized that for a TIME with some of them but THOSE loose ends (like Roxy still having her mask on) were closed up toward the end... So instead, having it put THIS way (preserving our ideas of them living full lives post-victory), and not only that but having John DO all this stuff RIGHT NOW to fix things retroactively with some really well-written contextual clarification we’re bound to get to help with the closure... god DAMN. This is really good. This is going to make a LOT of people feel a whole lot better about Homestuck. Like me. :D
...Pff, some other girl is getting punched by John in the face again. :D Don’t worry, Rose isn’t saying that this is the Vriska punch at the beginning of the whole Retcon arc and that this epilogue somehow happened in the middle. (I hope.)
...Yeah Rose implies heavily that John is gonna die his heroic death if he does this? Or it’s meant to make us THINK she’s implying that. Yeah. And she feels pretty fucking horrible about what she’s asking John to go through regardless, so. (Yeah, everyone looked pretty genuinely dead but a few at the end of the stage play, but it was pretty uncertain.) Either way, she’s acting like John isn’t going to “come back”, even if he lives through this.
Stupid feels.
Clicking the next link. ==>
Hiiii roxy and callie!!! :D
Yes how polite of them.
“Ultimate self”? Yeah, a sort of synthesizing of all the offshoots of her Heart and Mind, pulling it all together and realizing the full person she is and sum of her whole experience across all timelines, pasts and futures. Yeesh. Pretty uncomfortable for someone who ain’t a hypersprite.
...Roxy and Rose aren’t as close? Is it because of the substance abuse, because of the Light/Void dichotomy literally-or-metaphorically distancing them (with how disparaging Rose just was about anything that isn’t relevant), or something else?
Ah, Kanaya hogged her until she got “sick”, that explains some of it too.
A bell tower? (DOOONNNNGGG)
Fffff interpersonal relationship mildangst. Fuck
You and all your friends have dispositions affected by your classes and aspects. You think you know what that means in your case. But what about her? You can only speculate. Void is a place where things sink and disappear. Where they linger forever, but cease to exist. You aren’t actually sure if your feelings for Roxy ever really faded, or if they just grew numb with time and distance. Is it the same for her?
Holy fucking shit. What a big middle finger to everyone who told me aspects didn’t matter to their personalities. :D
...Though, I think he has it kind of backwards, since he still doesn’t totally understand all this business. It’s easy for those in canon, introduced to this subject, to think that the classes and aspects affect their dispositions, to an extent where the reality (at least I contend) is that it was their natural dispositions in the first place that the classes and aspects were actually describing. The power that was latent in their very personalities and tendencies to action all along.
Reading... Ah, yeah, a choice. Was pretty sure this terminology would be important earlier. It depends on what SORT of choice this is though... see, so far, Rose hasn’t given John a lot of really EXPLICIT motivation to go through with this, other than some mumbo-jumbo that would supposedly be “bad”. And it doesn’t even address the black hole in his nightmares. And here, we have Roxy and others explicitly encouraging him with regard to the fact that he can choose NOT to do this if he wants to.
The main question it brings up (to the future of this epilogue, how it’s going to be considered afterward, etc) is if this is the sort of Choice that John would always say yes to -- in which case it’s more canon than anything else -- or if he will end up being on the fence enough for a Terezi-style Mind-split. Because this would be the PERFECT out to have him “die” in canon. See, if he’s on the fence ENOUGH about going, then he creates two timelines that even both potentially have promise within the confines of this universe (since universes hold more than one timeline of promise, according to one of the Calliopes I think)-- One where he lives here, happily ever after with everyone, and another where he completes his Heroic death in canon to fix everything. It would let Andrew kill John in this epilogue while still letting him live out eternity with everyone else outside “canon”.
He’d get to have his John-death and keep him too! Seems plausible enough.
Anyway. Reading... it looks like they know more about this decision that Rose has told them, including the consequences Rose might have been dreading. And likely know that IF John might die doing this, that it won’t be in a way that he regrets.
Oh wow, that whole Meat or Candy sequence is GREAT. Silly to the core, and yet perfectly emphasizing the debate that... well, I mean, think about what Andrew’s been telling us all along.
He keeps TRYING to tell us that non-canon stuff is fine. Trying to use that huge ending sequence of Homestuck to try and tell us that the fact that everyone is FREE from this story and its confines, free for everyone to imagine COUNTLESS ways things played out afterward for ALL these lovable characters in carefree futures, is almost MORE important than any of these stupid loose ends. But some of us were really cut by that ending, the insistence that the actual final battle “didn’t matter” and that this escaped-from-canon existence was the true victory. But if Andrew just upped and drew a bunch of bonus pages to start explaining more story, THAT would cheapen the escape-from-canon ending he wanted even as it satisfied those of us who wanted ends tied up, who wanted questions answered. He had to find a very careful, very well done way to give us BOTH. To write out the real “ending” of “canon” for those of us who needed it, without compromising the ESCAPE from the very necessity of it that was the essential point he WANTED to make with Homestuck’s story from the very beginning. To carefully keep the endless branches of post-victory possibility and play intact while still, separately and with explicit hedging and qualifications, give us the potential results of one last canon thread to tie up the lingering questions that he so dearly wants us to recognize still “don’t matter” as much in the vast scheme of things.
And he’s doing it. And it’s WORKING.
Holy SHIT.
I am excited for Homestuck. I am excited for Homestuck for the first time in years, and my nausea is gone.
I’m not going to start theorizing again; that’s over. But I’m definitely going to keep reading as the new Epilogue chapters come out, and do so with a spring in my step.
To Be Continued. :D
279 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lads ‘n Lasses
pairing: highschool!ben x fem!reader
summary: single sex schools are never boring
word count: 2982
a/n: wagwan gs, this might not be to everyone’s taste but i’ll see how it goes, this is the first time i’ve imagined myself as the reader while writing ?? not as someone else reading it ?? it’s also set in a manchesterish sort of place bc i had a major mind block trying to write about anywhere else other than where i actually live ,, that probably sounds weird idk aha, it’s defo an au where ben basically is still in education and all sorts of chaos takes place as the year moves forward ,, anyway ,, enjoy !! if you have any questions or likewise feel free to send an ask bc i see how it could be semi confusing ,, love u all a lotta :) ❤️
here’s also some stuff that could make it less confusing (especially if you’re not familiar with lingo from north west england, i’ll maybe add to this with each new chapter that comes out :)
St. Mary’s/ Mary’s- the all girls school the reader attends, quite middle class and full of students who like to make drama for their own entertainment, strong focus on languages and arts
St. Peter’s/ St. Pete’s - the all boys ‘brother’ school to St. Mary’s, very laddish with a focus on sports and science
Niamh & Maria - the reader’s two closest and longest friends
Tram/Met - British version of an overground subway?
Shout - another word for a houseparty
Snide - unfair
Swear down - saying you are telling the truth
also, the reader and ben are between the ages of like 17 and 18ish, the whole thing isn’t very accurate to the uk school system but it works a little better like that so yall are gonna have to go with it aha
ps, this chapter is spilt in two bc i got very carried away when writing it and tumblr has a word limit, hmph. however, that does technically mean that i can say i’ve written two chapters not just one ?? go me !!
Chapter 1: September
4th of September, the night before a new term, new academic year and a nearly fresh start. Your last year at St Mary’s had not been something you were dreading so to speak, and now it was finally here. Thanks to upcoming exams, you only had a little over five months to get through before freedom, and eventually, a completely clean slate at a new, far less intimidating school environment. Anticipation building, you called it a night
6:15am. You woke up to the painful sound of your alarm clock, early morning sun peeking through the split between the curtains. Eager to silence the blaring noise you crawled out of the comfort of the duvet and hastily clicked the stop button in the centre of your phone screen. You made your way into the bathroom, careful not to wake your parents, brushed your teeth and quickly got undressed before stepping into the shower, letting the cool water run down your back without getting your hair wet, since you had it cut and washed yesterday afternoon. Slipping on your school uniform you caught eye of yourself in the mirror and decided that you had nothing to lose by putting on a little makeup, you had time after all. It was about 7am when you made your way downstairs, the house still quiet with only you awake. These mornings were the ones you liked best, just you and your own thoughts, with no one to bother you other than the dogs. It was still relatively warm during the September days so you chose to leave your jumper hung over a chair in the kitchen, putting just your blazer over your crisp, white blouse. Throwing an apple and cereal bar into your bag for later in the day, you figured that you might as well also pack some paracetamol and chewing gum for good measure, knowing it would come in handy eventually. You headed into the hallway to sit on the bottom step of the stairs to put your shoes on, tying the laces as tight as you possibly could, slung the black tote over your shoulder and grabbed your set of keys, which were usually on a hook which your dad had attached to the wall earlier in the year.
The walk to the tram stop was pleasant enough. There was no real breeze and you walked with your hands in you pockets to the beat of the music. Skipping down the steps to the platform to buy a ticket for the week, the change rattled in your pocket, and you had to cover it to stop anything flying out. Once you had finally managed to get the machine to produce a ticket after it spat out the coins you tried to use a few times, you spun round and walked towards the sheltered seats down the further end of the stop. It was only 7:45 by this stage and there were still very few people around. Missing the school rush was certainly worth it for you, and it also meant there was time to grab a coffee on the way to school with Niamh and Maria, who both got on at later stops anyway. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, deciding to text your parents, as you did every morning to let them know you were okay. You skipped a few songs before slipping your phone back into your pocket and looking up to examine your surroundings, following a good few weeks of not coming to the somewhat grimy metro stop, nothing had changed. The ground was still caked in chewing gum, graffiti littered the ticket machines, and the bin was, as ever, overflowing.
There was one thing different though, slightly odd too. A blonde haired boy who you had never seen before was stood on the opposite platform. Weird. It was then that you noticed he was in the uniform for St. Peter’s, with a backpack hung on one shoulder and a gym bag on the floor- grim move from the newbie. It suddenly hit you however. He was on the wrong platform, and could end up getting on a tram further into the city centre rather than away from it. God, this was awkward. You could leave him? it would be kind of funny? but also a bit snide.
No.
Don’t do that you told yourself. Deciding to ‘start the new term right’ you cleared your throat before shouting across
“You going to St. Pete’s mate?”
He looked up from the ground, obviously somewhat confused, checking to see whoever the person who had shouted was talking too. Luckily, this was quite easy, given that he then noticed that he was in fact the only person on the platform. You gave a wave and as friendly a smile as you could muster given it wasn’t even 8 o’clock yet, in a desperate attempt to get his attention, which just so happened to work.
“Um, yeah. Why?”
“Because given that you’re on the wrong platform, you’re gonna have a very hard time getting there”. His jaw dropped a little
“You are joking, right?”
“Nope!”, you popped the ‘p’, just for emphasis, “So... are you just gonna stand there like a lemon or change platforms then?”. He quickly picked his bag off the ground and jogged up the steps to the bridge. As he crossed you rolled the waistband of your skirt up, realising that you previously looked a little to nun-ish for your liking. By the time you had finished fixing up your appearance the mysterious blonde was plodding down the steps, towards you. Shit. Now what?
You had just about composed yourself by the time he reached you.
“Ben. Ben Jones” he spoke, before offering his hand to shake.
“You’re very proper aren’t you!?”, you thought out loud “guessing you're not from up here then hm? Name’s y/n l/n by the way, I go to St. Mary’s”, you said, trying to remain friendly.
“Yeah, moved up from Bournemouth at the start of summer. My parents wanted to come up here so I had a chance of getting some sort of sports scholarship or something for rugby, y’know, for uni and that”. He spoke with quite a low, quiet voice, but definitely had a southern accent that you couldn’t imagine going any time soon. Now he was stood nearer, you had managed to get a clearer picture of Ben; he was very well built and had the physique of a genuine sportsman, He wasn’t too tall- but still taller than you by a considerable amount. His facial features were mostly soft, although his nose looked like it could have been broken in past games and he had the most striking green eyes.
“Well, you’d have had a pretty difficult time getting anywhere if you were stuck in the centre of town.” you both let out a laugh.
“Honestly, I’m such a melt, only I could do that on one of the few days that being on time actually matters”. You broke eye contact momentarily to see that a tram was approaching.
“Right then” you said, stepping towards the edge of the platform. “We’re a bit early but I normally get a coffee anyway, you can come if you want? I mean, you don’t have to get this one if you don’t want but if you do then the offer’s there..” You trailed off, noticing that you had waffled on a bit.
“Aha, no it’s fine! I’d be happy to get this one, you’re literally the first person I’ve spoken to who’s like, my age so it’s not like I have anyone to wait for. Plus, I’ll probably get lost if you abandon me now.” He looked up with puppy dog eyes after picking his gym bag off the floor again.
Stepping on the tram, you decided to offer him your first piece of valuable advice; “Right… Well. If we’re gonna be mates I better give you the rules of the road up here”.
“Go on then, local expert”, he said with a smirk.
“First things first. Don’t put your bag on the floor. It’s crusty and makes you look like a gimp”.
“Noted”, he spoke as the pair of you sat on the grey seats.
“Second. Most of the boys are maniacs and the girls are awful bitches, I’d say that I’d help you figure out who’s who but you’ll probably be able to decide for yourself”.
“Hm, you’re really selling it to me. The brutal honesty is a nice touch”. You gave a playful punch to the side of his arm, with a grin smeared across your face.
“Swear down mate, you’ll thank me later for this though.”
The journey passed in a flash, the pair of you talking like friends reunited. You learnt that he had a beagle named Frankie, lived not too far from you, he played rugby for teams but also enjoyed drama and music.
“You’re quite the character aren’t you! can’t say I took you for a performing arts kinda guy”
“Well… What kind of person did you take me as then, all knowing-y/n”
“Well Ben from Bournemouth.. that would be telling wouldn’t it, I can tell you however that this is our stop though”. You both stood up, grabbing your bags and heading for the doors of the carriage. You had a text from Niamh and Maria earlier on in the journey saying they’d be late and there was no point waiting for them, so you carried on the walk alone with Ben.
“If I left you here right now, would you have any clue where to go?” you questioned, genuinely intrigued.
“Erm.. no… I would have to stand around for a bit and hope someone takes pity on me”
“What about google maps though??”
“Hmm.. Let’s just say that there’s a reason I don’t take geography”
The coffee shop was about the same distance from the tram stop as is was from school, and it was about 20 past 8 when you pushed open the door with a small chime. It was a cosy little café, situated on the corner of the market street with wicker chairs outside and brown leather sofas inside. You never stayed in however, much preferring to enjoy whatever you brought during the rest of the walk to school. Today was a latte day, no questions asked. You liked to rotate throughout a few different drinks, depending on your mood. Ben stood close by as you explained how you’d most definitely be on black coffee by this time next week, but you might have the odd pumpkin spiced latte as September moved into October, just for novelty really. He gave out a small chuckle,
“You really are in a league of your own aren’t you? I’ve known you like an hour and I’m convinced you hold the secrets of the universe or some shit”. You liked Ben. He was good company and you had a fair bit in common;
“and what if I did hold the secrets of the universe huh?”
“I’d use the black market to sell you to a looney philosopher somewhere or other and make myself some fat stacks.” You both doubled over in complete hysterics. Would it be weird to say that you’d never bonded so quickly with someone? yeah, probably you thought, brushing the idea away quickly. Your giggle fit was quickly broken up however when the barista announced that your drink was ready, you fished the loose change out of your pocket and handed it over moments later,
“keep the change mate” you said politely, turning on your heel towards the door once again.
“You really are quite the angel aren’t you?” the boy walking next to you said “ooooo, keep the change mate, I’m y/n and I am the source of all life and joy” he mocked.
“You know it blondie”, you retorted with a smirk.
You had walked a fair deal further, now following the main road and considerably nearer to school when Ben reached into his inside pocket .pulling out a cigarette and lighter. You silently watched out of the corner of your eye as he held the stick in his mouth and lit one end, he inhaled deeply before taking it from between his lips to exhale. Before his could bring his hand back up however, you plucked it from his fingers and drew a breath from it yourself before throwing it down and stamping on it. Ben simply stood with his mouth hung open looking dumbfounded. “Whoa steady on...What the fuck was that about then? Oh… and for the record, you owe me a cig now!”, he spoke with a tone of shock mixed with annoyance
“Boo-Hoo”, you spoke back, “But neither of us can have a first day back if we get excluded before we even get to school you dimwit. There’s teachers stood by the traffic lights down there”, you pointed further down the pavement. “See for yourself if you want…” you trailed off. Ben looked a little guilty, realising that he could have got you both in a good deal of trouble,
“Ah, Right, Okay… Sorry about that..”
“Don’t worry about it. Honestly. It’s fine, you’re new! You’ve got a lot to learn still”, you gave him a reassuring smile, but you could tell that he still felt a twinge of regret.
The pair of you carried on the walk in a comfortable silence, and as you approached St. Peter’s a thought struck you. “Right. After school, wait for me here, I don’t really want you being lost in a new town stuck on my conscience all night”
“How noble of you, Miss y/l/n! How will I ever repay you for this selfless act of charity!” He exaggerated, running his hands through his hair as he spoke.
“We’ll have to see about that one won’t we, I guess”, You hitched your bag back onto your shoulder properly. Before he turned into the courtyard of his new school he grabbed your arm,
“Wait a minute... you give off way too much chaotic energy for things to run smoothly. What’s your snap or your number or something incase something goes horribly wrong” He spoke again, with a slight twinkle in his eyes.
“Hm, go on then, I’ll give you my number then you can just add me on snapchat with it too if you really want. Two birds with one stone ‘n all that”, you reached into your bag and pulled out a pen. “Gimmie something to write on, chop chop matey!” you spoke hurridley, realising that you only had 10 minutes before you needed to be sat down in your first registration of the academic year. In a panic, he stuck out his hand, and you began to scribble down the first few digits.
“Fucking hell! I thought you were writing it down not tattooing it!”, he took in a sharp breath.
“Hm.. What.. Wait! Shit, sorry.. I’m a bit heavy handed”. You finished writing the numbers down with a conscious attempt not to press quite so hard and then threw the pen back into your bag.
“Aight then, I’ll see you later yeah?” He looked up at you,
“See ya later lemon boy”. You shot another smile before continuing on a few meters further down the path and approached the gates of St. Mary’s.
Hello old friend, you thought before taking a deep breath and turning into the school, with no way out for the next few hours at least. You stepped hurriedly through the labyrinth of corridors before reaching the room where you’d be registered. Throwing your bag onto your usual desk you could feel two sets of eyes on you.
“y/n l/n, You have some explaining to do! go on then, who’s the boy?” Niamh began, a devilish grin on her face.
“Gimme a second to sort my life out yeah? I just need to get my bearings then you can interrogate me”, you spoke, followed by a heavy sigh. After you put your bag in your new locker you returned to the desk where you were greeted by your long time friends once again. “Wait a minute, how do you even know? started hiring government spies or some shit?”
“Erm, no. But that’s quite a good idea actually. If you’re that desperate to know, Lewis sent me a message asking if you’d got a boyfriend over summer..” You let out a scoff before Maria could continue. “He still really likes you ya know?”
“Yes mum, I do know, you remind me most days” You all let out a laugh, attracting some attention from the neighboring tables.
“We’re off topic, you still need to explain yourself and we have like, 3 minutes until the bell goes” Niamh interrupted, she had always been the most conscious member of the group, as much as both you and Maria hated to admit.
“Right, I’ll keep it simple. I was at the met stop and he was stood on the wrong side so I told him to switch otherwise he’d never make it to school then he told me that his name’s Ben and he’s new and he’s in our year and then we got on the tram and then we went to get coffee then he decided he wanted a smoke and then I told him off and then we got to school and then I told him I’d meet him after school then I walked into school and now I’m here with you two” You barely paused for breath and gasped before either of your friends could continue, both of them looking shocked and rather confused.
“Right. You can explain that all again later in a bit only at least 76 times slower. ok? thanks? nice” is all Maria managed to respond before the door swung open and your teacher walked in...
Hope you enjoy !!❤️
Let me know if you want adding to the taglist !! :)
#bohemian rhapsody#ben hardy#roger taylor#brian may#queen#bo rhap#queen band#freddie mercury#joe mazzello#john deacon#ben hardy! roger taylor#rogerina#roger taylor imagine#roger taylor x reader#ben!roger imagine#ben!roger taylor#ben!roger x reader#ben hardy!roger x reader#ben hardy x reader#ben hardy imagine#rami malek#lucy boynton#bo rhap imagine#queen imagines
166 notes
·
View notes
Text
Earpiece Date
Thanks @savanime19 for the request!!!
This is a Bakugou x reader scenario! With the whole bakusquad helping out ;) Might make another part but idk yet. So enjoy this!
Katsuki Bakugou sat on a park bench alone. His blond eyebrows were narrowed towards each other in agitated concentration. His strong arms, crossed over his chest and his foot tapped nervously against the soft grassy ground. Random civilians paid no mind to the grumpy looking teenager as they passed by him, each one too focused on appreciating and taking in the beauty of the city’s park.
Katsuki shifted uneasily in his bench seat. “Okay, so what do I do when she first gets here?” His voice was hushed, not wanting anyone passing by to hear him talking.
“Slap that bish on the ass and take her to the closest private bathroom, if you know what I mean~” Kaminari’s disembodied voice rang from the ear piece Katsuki was wearing.
The blond felt his blood boil.
“I’m going to fucking murder you so bad that even Satan won’t be able to punish you any worse when you get to HELL.” Katsuki said through his angrily clenched jaw.
“Who invited Kaminari, again?” this time, Sero’s cracking teenage voice came through Katsuki’s ear, along with an offended gasp from the electrical hazard himself.
“Hey!! Bakugou asked for ALL of our help on this date with [L/n]!” Kaminari answered, slightly offended.
“He probably doesn’t want to hear your perverted comments though, Kaminari.” Mina added, her voice sounding girlish and somewhat out of place.
“Yeah man, that comment wasn’t cool. A real man would never talk about [Y/n] like that.” Kirishima commented, earning a string of ‘fine, fine, fine’ from Kaminari.
Katsuki, was currently too focused on looking through the faces of all the people passing by him to respond to his friends in his ear piece. His handsome crimson eyes scanned each person. He felt anxious for some reason. Every time he saw someone pass with (h/c) hair his heart would skip a beat, thinking it was you.
Mina calling his name in his ear pulled him back into their conversation.
“Bakugou! Adjust your camera please, we’re looking at the pavement right now.”
Said male’s eyes went back to scanning the crowd of people. Your arrival was all he could think about. His hands moved on their own to adjust a small explosion pin on the pocket of his black T-shirt. An almost invisible camera was hidden in the pin, which allowed his four friends to see what he was seeing, without being too obvious.
“Bro, how are you feeling?” Kirishima asked.
Katsuki tore his gaze from the passing by people and looked down at is shoes. His right foot was still anxiously tapping on the ground. He ran a hand through his ash blond hair.
“Like fucking Deku. This is so stupid.”
“Awe~ Bakugou~ Are you nervous?” Mina cooed.
Katsuki instantly felt his cheeks and ears heat up.
“NO WAY! NOW SHUT UP!” He lashed out, earning a handful of people around him to become alarmed and hurry away.
Katsuki clenched his jaw together.
“It’s normal to feel nervous before a first date. I mean, you’ve been gunning over [L/n] for what, MONTHS now?!”
“Shut it, low-budget Spiderman,” Katsuki grumbled. He wasn’t fucking nervous. He just felt weird that’s all. His senses were at all time highs as he waited for you to get to the park. “Now give me some real advice you fuckers before she gets here.”
“Okay, okay. What do you have planned for this date Bakugou?” Kirishima asked.
There was a long silence.
“…nothing.”
“Jesus Christ” Kaminari cursed.
“This is gonna be more work than I thought.” Mina breathed out.
“Bro are you serious? You didn’t plan a single thing?” Kirishima asked dumbfounded.
“This is why I asked you idiots to help me out! That was your fucking job!” Katsuki whisper yelled.
“Alright, this is okay. We can plan something before she shows up,” Kirishima reassured, his brain racking through his inventory of date ideas.
“Too late she’s walking towards us!!” Mina frantically yelled.
Katsuki shot his head up, his eye wide as he stared at you walking toward him. His heart rate almost doubled as you smiled at him.
“This is not a drill! I repeat! This is not a drill! Everyone stay calm! Oh god! This is it folks! Here we go!” Kaminari’s disembodied voice was clearly panicking. “Welcome to the show ladies and gentlemen! Oh boy, here we go!”
Your baby blue and white dress hung to your curves nicely. It wasn’t too revealing, which Katsuki liked. Your (h/l) (h/c) flowed breezily in the spring’s air. Katsuki couldn’t help but notice how you stood out from all the nameless extras around. It was as if no one else mattered but you.
“Hey!” Your voice was light and cheery. “Sorry, did I keep you waiting long, Bakugou?”
Katsuki felt his mouth run completely dry as you stood in front of him. His feet were cemented into the ground and his cheeks felt like they were on fire. This was really happening. He was really on a date with you right now.
“Bro! Answer her!” Kirishima yelled into his ear.
Katsuki cleared his throat, hoping to produce some sort of wetness there so he could speak.
“No, I just got here.” He lied. He had been nervously sitting on the bench for twenty minutes.
“Oh great! This park is beautiful isn’t it!” You marvelled, looking around at all the trees and flowers.
“Tell her that she looks beautiful!” Mina encouraged.
“Say ‘not as beautiful as you’ the ladies eat that shit up.” Kaminari added.
Katsuki stood up from his position on the bench. He stood beside you and awkwardly shoved his hands in his pant pockets.
“Oi! Yeah that’s good! Say it Bakugou!” Kirishima enthusiastically yelled.
Katsuki felt his cheeks warm up even further. That shit was so cheesy.
“Yeah, you look not as beautiful as you.” Was his actual response. He felt dumb and wished he just didn’t say anything. “I-I mean! Not as…nice or…whatever…as …you.” His voice was an embarrassed whisper by the end.
“Unbelievable,”
“I need a drink already,”
You giggled, which surprised everyone including Katsuki himself. Looking back over to him, your smile made him feel even more nervous. He didn’t know what to do or where to take you now.
Good thing you were easy going.
“Wanna walk along the trail?” You suggested.
Katsuki grunted and nodded in response. Your footstep fell in sync with each other as you made your way to the paved path. It stretched around and through the park in various directions. You had started telling Katsuki about your day and other random things that happened to you during your journey to the park. At first, he tried to pay attention, but after staring at the side of your face for several seconds, your voice began to drown out. The soft features of your face, the soft fluffy look of your hair, the way your eyes lit up while telling a story, it all entranced him. His crimson eyes seemed stuck on you, as if he was looking at a rare and beautiful piece of art.
“Bro…real talk…[Y/n]’s tits look so good in that dress.” Kaminari’s voice grabbed Katsuki by the neck, dragged him out of his peaceful dreamy state, and slapped him into the pit of despair that was perversion.
Usually, comments like these would never bother him. He actually very rarely paid any attention to them. But when it came to you, he couldn’t help but hear them loud and clear.
Katsuki angrily fisted the explosion pin, blocking Kaminari’s and everyone else’s view of your rack. He then felt his whole face redden as his eyes darted down your cleavage. Your tits did look rocking. Katsuki wanted to punch himself.
“Bakugou! Let go of the camera!” Mina yelled.
“Kaminari what is wrong with you man?”
Bakugou’s grip in his pin tightened. He suddenly felt guilty he made his friends spy on your date. But at the same time, he knew he was beyond clueless, and the last thing he wanted to do was fuck this up.
“What?! Don’t hate the player, hate the game! I can’t help but admire gifts from god.”
“Jesus, someone please mute his mic.”
“Don’t make me come over to your place and tape your mouth shut, dude.”
“Please do, Sero.” Mina huffed.
“I should mute all your mics” Katsuki tried to whisper. Offended gasps could be heard in his ear piece.
“What?” You asked, hearing him suddenly say something. You turned to look at him, still walking in pace.
Katsuki panicked and let go of his pin. “Uh, NOTHING!” He aggressively yelled, his face as red as a tomato.
You giggled again, giving him a soft smile before facing forward again.
“Bro you can’t talk to us when you’re with her!” Sero reminded. Katsuki glared down at the ground.
“Wow!” Your voice once again pulled him out of his little bakusquad ear piece world. He looked up at your glowing smiling face. His gaze followed yours to a large field of colourful flowers. It stretched itself miles across and held, what appeared to be, hundreds of different kinds of flowers. Katsuki didn’t understand why you were so excited about a bunch of flowers, but he was grateful the conversation was no longer on him.
You two had stopped on the edge of the path to admire the field. Katsuki stood beside you. He side glanced, only to see your face turned up into an intoxicating smile. You were intoxicated by the beauty of the flowers, as he was with you. He found himself getting lost in your presence again, reality slowly blurring around him.
“This is perfect! Girls love flowers!” Mina excitedly commented.
“Ask her what her favourite type of flower is.” Kirishima said.
“What’s your favourite?” Katsuki blurted out, his voice rough and low.
You glanced up at him quickly before looking back at the field.
“Flower, I mean. Which kind is your favourite or whatever?”
“I think my favourite is lavender. They’re such a nice purple colour and smell amazing! Do you have one?” You answered, turning towards him.
“They’re all kinda the same to me.” He answered, only really focusing on trying to burn lavender into his memory as your favourite flower.
“I feel like you’re a sunflower kinda guy.” You said. Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “They’re tall like you.” You shrugged.
“I’m not tall, you’re just short.” He said back. You faked an offended scoff and nudged his arm.
“Am not! I’m average you bully!” you laughed.
Katsuki on the other hand, did not laugh. He just stared, at his arm that you nudged.
“We have made contact! One small step for Katsuki, one giant step for class 1A pussy-slaying kind!” Kaminari cheered.
“Jesus shut the fuck up you cock sucker”. Katsuki yelled, almost instinctively.
His eyes widened into saucers the second he realised he said that out loud. He was too terrified to look over to you.
“…what?” You asked, very confused and trying your best to not be offended.
Katsuki brought his hand up to his mouth and just stared at the grass near his feet in horror. How was he supposed to recover from this? He felt his heart sink into his stomach and all he wanted to do was murder that pica-bitch.
The bakusquad was also speechless.
“Bro….” Kirishima said sympathetically.
“Kaminari I’m coming over to your dorm and murdering you right now.” Sero stated, some shuffling noises could be heard soon after. “Mina, Kirishima, save our wounded solider, will ya?”
“NO PLEASE SERO! HAVE MERCY! I’M SORRY BAKUGOU!”
Katsuki clenched his fist at his side so hard his knuckles turned white.
Your light, airy laughter filled his ears and almost sent an electric shock through his body. He stared at the ground in disbelief, thinking it’s gotta be someone else laughing. He slowly turned his head towards you, only to see you clutching your stomach in laughter.
“um…..what?” Mina spoke the thoughts of everyone.
You looked over at Katsuki and tried to calm your laughing down.
“Didn’t know you got so offended by being called a bully~ Did I just find one of Katsuki Bakugou’s soft spots?” You giggled.
You always found it funny how Bakugou was so over-the-top about everything. His intenseness and colourful language together was the funniest thing in the world to you.
“GO WITH IT! JESUS MAN GO WITH IT!” Kirishima frantically yelled.
Katsuki blinked a couple times. “Ah! N-no way! Are you kidding me?! I don’t have any weak spots! I’m as solid as a rock dammit.” He tried to recover.
“Oh yeah?” You teased, lightly punching his chest. “I don’t knowww, you sounded pretty offended~”
Katsuki felt a wave of relief wash over him at your teasing. Fucking right he’s still in this date for the WIN. He gave you a small smirk.
“In your fucking dreams princess! I don’t have any soft spots and I don’t get offended by others, THAT’S why I’m the best.” He folded his arms across his chest
You raised an eyebrow and returned his smirk. “Oh really? I guess…” You started slowly making your way towards the flower field, looking back at Katsuki over your shoulder. “we will see about that~” You turned back to face the front and continued into the field.
Katsuki stood speechless. His cheeks were fire-hydrant red and his heart pounded in his chest.
You were going to kill him.
“Damnnnn…don’t hate me for saying this Bakuguo, but [Y/n] is hot as fuck. That look was something else. Remind me to get tips from her later.” Mina commented in Katsuki’s ear.
Katsuki watched you slowly walk through the field. The tops of the flowers brushing past your thighs. You’d bend down ever-so often to smell a flower and look over to him with half-lidded eyes.
“…agreed…” Kirishima added, his voice low.
Katsuki snapped out of his daze on you and uncrossed his arms.
“If either of you try anything I’ll sent you on fire.” He muttered, only loud enough for them to hear.
The ash blond began casually walking over to where you stood in the field. Other civilians stood around in the field and around as well, admiring the flowers. His gaze darted from his feet to you every couple second. You caught him looking at you and you both immediately looked away awkwardly, your cheeks both heating up.
“Bro pick her some flowers or something.” Kirishima prodded.
Katsuki shoved his hands in his pockets and slightly pouted. He never thought he’d see himself standing in a flower field, let alone, picking them. You seemed to be enjoying yourself, so I guess it was okay. But didn’t help his ego.
“Dude! She’ll like it!” Kirishima pushed.
“Operation Get Rid of Electrical Hazard has been a success, I’m currently in his dorm room and have cocooned the bastard in tape.” Sero suddenly added.
Mina began hysterically laughing.
“Oh my gosh! I have to see this!” She yelled, making Katsuki slightly wince at her volume.
You noticed and turned towards the blond.
“You okay?” You asked.
Katsuki looked up at you.
“MINA! HELP ME!”
“What the-? How’d you get your mouth loose?”
“PLEASE NO MORE TAP-MM! HMM MH MM!”
“Uh…” Katsuki found it hard to concentrate on both you and the commotion that was going on in his ear. “Yeah,”
You hesitantly nodded, noticing how spaced out he seemed to be. In a sudden realization, you realized that he must be bored looking at flowers. You mentally punched yourself in the face for making him do something so boring for him.
“AHAHAHAH Kaminari!! Kirishima you have to see this! He looks like an angry caterpillar!!” Mina yelled in Katsuki’s ear.
“Guys! We’re supposed to be helping Katsuki right now remember? Just…take lots of pictures and send them to me.”
“Hey,” the sound of your voice once again pulled Katsuki out of his ear piece world. “Do you wanna go get something to eat? I know this really good noodle place only a short walk away.” You suggested.
Katsuki nodded, “Sure,” he said in a bored tone, trying his best to focus on you and not his idiot friends.
As the two of you began walking back to the paved trail, Katsuki caught a glimpse of lavender in his right eye. There was a small bush of it not too far from where he was. Quickly, and without anyone really noticing, he aggressively grabbed a fistful of the flower and pulled some out of the ground.
“Ah…” Katsuki nervously started, feeling his cheeks warm up at the cheesiness of the act. You were walking beside him. You looked over to see the sides of his face a slight pink colour. You also thought you noticed…something…in his ear? Katsuki doesn’t have earrings, does he? “Here” He said, shoving the fist full of lavender into your hands.
Your attention was immediately onto the purple flowers and their clean, fresh scent that filled your nose. You couldn’t help but smile and blush.
“Thank you! These are beautiful Katsuki!” You said, your voice airy and light.
The blond just faced forward, but he felt accomplished and warm inside.
“That was smooth as hell bro! Nice one!” Kirishima yelled.
“Awe~ This is so cute! I’m getting goosebumps!” Mina cheered.
“OW! Mina, watch where you fist pump.” Sero winced. Mina laughed and apologized.
“Okay now it’s conversation time while you guys walk to the park! Ask her how she likes U.A.”
“No, no! Give her a compliment about her training! Like she was really badass in that ship wreck rescue training we did yesterday. Tell her she did great!”
Katsuki opened his mouth to do exactly that.
“Yeah! But girls don’t want to hear that, she did much better when we were learning cpr.”
“Tell her her quirk is manly and awesome! And everyone is jealous!”
“She’s got beautiful eyes that could capture any villain in them with just one look!”
Katsuki felt himself get increasingly confused and frustrated at all the input. Soon, all their voices began talking over each other.
“Your training was…manly and awesome…and your eyes could capture any cpr badass…” Katsuki said, not really hearing himself, only really hearing the jumbled-up words of his friends.
You gave him a quizzical look.
Katsuki cleared his throat and looked down at his shoes.
“Ah, fuck. I mean…you did pretty okay during yesterday’s training, you know.” Katsuki said embarrassed he messed up before.
You smiled and lightly giggled. “Thanks, Bakugou! I thought it was really fun, I might specialize in ship wreckages or something. Not too sure yet.” You shrugged.
Katsuki side glanced over to you briefly before looking back down at the path.
“Yeah? You don’t want to be a hero in a big city or anything?” He asked.
Your steps became synced as you left the park’s path and got onto the sidewalk.
“I don’t really know yet. I like living in the city, sure. But...maybe it’s my quirk or who I am as a person, but I just feel connected to nature and water somehow. So right now, I feel like that’s where I’ll end up; somewhere more rural and a lot of waterfront.”
“NO [L/N]! I wanna fight bad guys in a big city with her!!! We were gonna be roomies!” Mina exclaimed sadly.
“Calm down, she said she wasn’t even sure if that’s what she wanted to do.” Sero said, clearly annoyed with the pink female.
“Bro, this is intense. This means theres even more pressure to lock her down before she goes to be a hero in the middle of no where! You either gotta stop her or wife her, bro!!” Kirishima yelled.
Katsuki couldn’t help but feel slightly upset by your words. Kirishima layered on that pressure like a fat kid layers butter on toast.
“Ah!” He heard you say. You had stopped walking and were standing in front of a small noodle restaurant. “We’re here!”
You quickly stepped up to the door and opened it. “Come on!”
Katsuki slowly followed. He shoved his hands in his pockets as you both walked through the door.
“Alright, operation Lock [L/n] Down is a go! We really gotta turn the charm up 1000 percent here guys! She can’t leave us!” Kirishima yelled, earning determined ‘yeah!’s from Sero and Mina.
Katsuki gulped back a nervous lump in his throat.
This was going to be interesting.
#katsuki bakugou#katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#katsuki date#date with bakugou#bnha#bnha imagine#bnha requests#my hero academia imagine#my hero academia#bnha katsuki#kacchan
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Into the Dungeon of Darkness
A short story based on the game Darkest Dungeon, but it’s still readable for those who haven’t played it. It was meant to be just a small exercise, but it kinda... evolved. Enjoy!
The air this deep into the ruins was disgusting, oppressive, and uniquely scented. The cracks in the damp and crumbling walls provided no relief, revealed no landscape, they just gave way to oppressive dirt and rock. If you burned incense in a room down here, you could return years later to find its scent only mildly dissipated. I felt the rot in the air clinging to my lungs, coating them like oil. Given the strange fungal life we’d seen so far, it wouldn’t be surprising to learn the unusual odor was due to an abundance of spores. I imagined an impossible scenario where I died peacefully in my sleep decades from now and an autopsy revealed a bushel of mushrooms lodged in there, much to the bafflement of the local doctor.
My mildly amusing fantasy was interrupted by the whisper of one of my companions. Something was coming. Our Highwayman cocked his gun, the Leper readied his mighty sword, and I prepared my preliminary prayers to the Lord. The slow shuffling around the corner became clear to me now too.
The stale air stood even more still and our breathing became audible to each other as we braced ourselves for another grueling round of combat. Most abandoned places felt cold and uncaring, but these ruins felt actively malicious and cruel. What had apparently once been a warm and loving home had been warped and desecrated, twisted by its greedy sons into a maze of unfathomable evil. Their excavations into the earth below their home brought none of the power and riches that the rumors promised, just death and madness.
This place was an affront to the Lord and if my light was able to cast away even a fraction of the shadows that existed against His mighty will, then I would suffer whatever wounds, physical or mental, to do so. So what would I be smiting this time?
Giant slugs and spiders?
The shuffling grew louder.
Living mushrooms and slimes?
With proximity came clarity: it was the sound of footsteps.
Bandits and madmen?
We could see the vague shadows of a hand gripping the wall’s edge.
More of those blasphemous re-animated corpses?
As the rest of the silhouette stepped into view I called down the holy light, blinding the figure while the Highwayman interrogated it.
“Hold it! Who’s there?”
Instead of the usual ferocity, flurry of movement, and unfathomable sounds that started these battles the figure just held its thin arms in front of its eyes and whimpered “I mean you no harm.”
I dimmed the Lord’s light and took in the “man” that stood before us. There was no question of his humanity per say, but rather of his functionality. He was emaciated and pale, adorned only with tattered clothes and broken long-chained manacles clamped around his wrists. The most striking detail, though, were the scars: dozens upon dozens of them, some more aged than others, scattered across his skin like a dropped bundle of sticks.
“Please, help me get out of here. I’ve been trapped down here… so long.”
The Highwayman was a suspicious man under normal circumstances. He’d led a hard life, taking odd jobs and robbing banks when the work dried up. The only other thing I knew about him was that he’d been the lone survivor of a previous excavation, which was truly astonishing when you considered the wit and determination it’d take to survive the hostility of the ruins alone. So it made sense when he barked “Why should we trust you? How d’ja get here in the first place?”
“I was kidnapped by the cultists. I think they wanted me for a sacrifice, but the ritual… went wrong and I was able to escape.”
There was hesitation in his voice. He was holding back, but perhaps with good reason. We’d run into those cultists before and the power they had wielded in battle only hinted at the madness they might be able to inflict on a captive. We all had things we’d seen in the ruins we wished to never think of again and he surely felt the same about his torturous time with the cult.
The Leper, of course, immediately took sympathy on the tortured soul and sheathed his sword. I knew nothing of the Leper, but I sensed a piousness and decency about him that only those who’ve flourished despite true suffering seem to have. He did not speak, only extending his hand to the man in solidarity.
The Highwayman grumbled, “Keep in mind this gun of mine don’t leave my hand, should yah think of making trouble.”
Our newest party member nodded in acknowledgement, his gaze locked on the barrel that was equally focused on him. It was then that I noticed it: some weight behind his eyes, something dark deep within him. It almost felt… primal.
We continued our way through the winding halls and crumbling rooms, stopping to search abandoned crates and bookcases. It was uncommon to find anything worth taking, but we’d found enough valuables along the way that this looting became something of a habit. We’d made our way to a library of sorts: lined with collapsing wall-to-wall shelves and populated with half-burned books. We were all indulging in our habit, but I was ignoring the handful of strongboxes and trinket-filled desk drawers in favor of the cryptic texts scattered about. The abundance of forbidden texts down here made it easy for me to learn about the dark arts and while I was reluctant to pursue anything that endangered my soul, I knew it would prove necessary to surviving this journey.
“Stay away from there!” screeched the Highwayman with unprecedented fear and anger.
I was startled by such volume, as we hadn’t spoken so loudly since before we entered the ruins. It was dangerous to speak that way in a place that can echo a noise for miles. The object of the Highwayman’s ire was the manacled man, who had his hands up and was standing stock still next to a small fountain in the corner. It had no water running, but had a stained and mildewed basin. What was truly strange was that the centerpiece was no angel, bird, or even abstract architecture, but rather an oddly detailed tentacle. Our party had seen one or two similar stoneworks but never bothered them, having more than once learned the lesson of staying away from anything that hinted at the unholy so strongly. The newcomer was apparently still naive.
The Highwayman brought his voice back down and said “Did ya touch it?”
“N-n-no sir.”
“Good. Don’t. Lost some good men that way.”
It occurred to nobody in the room to inquire any further. It was not our place and we didn’t have the spare sanity to handle such things. I returned to my texts when I felt the slightest shiver on the back of my neck. Was the Lord warning me? Of what? I stood to attention, gripping my holy book tightly. I looked over at the manacled man and he returned the gaze, but with intense fear. There was a beat and I understood.
“Incoming!”
Unlike our last encounter, there was no time for preparation. A moment after the words left my mouth, cultists burst through the door we’d yet to clear. The Highwayman acted with his usual superb speed, letting off a pistol shot mid-dive behind a desk. Sadly his aim wasn’t as impressive and he only managed to clip the arm of one of the cultist brutes. I was already positioned beside a desk, so I had easy cover, but the Leper and the manacled man weren’t so lucky. The Leper was out in the open and his sword was sheathed, but on the opposite side of the room as the cultists. The manacled man was still at the fountain corner, which was adjacent to them. He ducked into the shadows and curled up, hoping his small stature would hide him.
There were four cultists: two brutes and two shamans. The brutes were massive beings of mostly muscle, probably supernaturally enhanced at the cost of their humanity. They were equipped with clunky gauntlet claws, essentially three swords attached to their hands. The shamans, always women for some reason, used their staffs to cast strange unholy spells, but each shaman’s magic was slightly different. Oh and they could see just fine despite wearing thick black blindfolds, which, while strange, was fairly useless knowledge combat-wise.
The bleeding brute leapt forward towards the Highwayman’s cover, determined to retaliate. Clearly the Highwayman wasn’t expecting such quick reaction, as he was reloading. I started to chant a stun prayer, but there was no need. The Leper darted forward with incredible speed, my vision blurring body and metal together as his sword swung downward, smashing into the ground. My eyes and brain caught up and registered the outcome. It looked like there was a section missing from the brute’s arm, as if someone had erased a few inches. The Leper’s sword had completely severed it, but at the cost of having those claws lodge themselves in his shoulder and upper arm. The brute’s delayed scream of pain boomed louder than overhead thunder, but the Leper made no noise as he discarded the arm, even though it took a chunk out of him in the process. The brute went to swing again, but was greeted by the barrel of a newly loaded gun and was swiftly removed from the fight.
To push our advantage, I’d have to take care of those shamans. I shouted the prayer of my Lord at one of them, successfully stunning her. As she collapsed, a slight glow around her, I heard the slight “thump” of her head hitting the stone floor. She’d be out for a while. The other shaman started muttering, practically hissing the foreign words through lips pursed with anger. Shadows slinked up from the floor, curling up the staff like snakes and gathering together into a ball around the tip. I was mesmerized by their movement, swept up in the surreality and a tad jealous I couldn’t wield light similarly. My stunned fascination kept me immobile for a second too long and I was swept off my feet as shadowy tentacles burst from the staff, stretching across the room and smashing into my chest. As my body collided with a bookshelf, which shattered easily, and then the wall behind it, I felt something in my body crack. A rib probably, given that impact.
I managed to keep my eyes open and stay conscious, but the wind was completely knocked out of me. I sat there wheezing, trying to regain my ability to breathe, but the musty and dust-filled air offered no relief. The Leper stormed forward offensively towards the shaman, his gouged arm dangling behind him as he ran. Before he could get close though, the remaining brute intercepted his path and the Leper narrowly avoided another claw strike. The Highwayman let loose a shot to cover him, which skimmed the neck enough to distract and hurt the brute, but not permanently impede it. The Highwayman cursed his shoddy aim this battle and ducked back down to reload.
The Leper heaved his sword and readied himself to attack again, but I could tell from the writhing shadows around the shaman that her counterattack was already poised. I tried to warn the Leper, but words require air and my lungs still had none to offer. As the shadow tentacles flew towards him the Leper defensively raised his sword, but there was no collision. The shadows just… passed through him. The Leper was stunned, but soon that surprise on his half masked face morphed into absolute terror and anguish. A pained croak, the most I’d ever heard from him, escaped his throat as he collapsed to the ground and began shaking violently. My recent research helped me recognize it: a nightmare spell, designed to make you relive your greatest traumas and worst fears. It’d take some time, some prayer, and a good woman but he’d be fine… probably.
The brute, its wound shaken off, advanced to finish the weakened soul. “Leper!” exclaimed the Highwayman as he vaulted over the desk. He ran toward the crumpled figure, drawing his dagger from its sheath. The brute ignored him, determined to wipe the Leper out. As it raised its metal claws in the air for the death blow, the Highwayman dashed across its vision, landing just outside the brute’s range with surprising grace. It took both the brute and I a few seconds to realize what the Highwayman had accomplished with such a strange attack, but as blood started to leak from a thin and long cut in the brute’s forehead I understood. The brute grunted, furiously wiping away at the blood that kept dripping into its eyes. The wiping became more and more exaggerated, slowly turning into a furious flailing as the brute lashed out against its blindness.
The Highwayman ducked a passing swipe and picked up the Leper, whose convulsing had stopped. As he turned to bring him back to cover, he stumbled and then froze. The shaman cackled, a single tentacle extended from her staff to the Highwayman’s ankle. That extra second in the range of the brute was all that was needed, as he was struck in the head by a passing arm and knocked to the ground. The brute, realizing it’d hit someone, re-oriented itself in that direction, and readied its claws for a more deadly strike. I begged the Lord for strength as I croaked out a stun spell, but the coughs confused my words and the sharp jab of a cracked rib weakened my will power. The brute’s fist came down and I closed my eyes. It was over.
The vibration of an unfamiliar roar shook my eyes open again. The brute’s fist was suspended in air, the claws paused mere inches from my companions. There was a chain wrapped around the brute’s arm, its links leading back to the corner with the fountain. From out of the shadows stepped a grotesque beast, a red-skinned devil with the teeth and claws of a wolf, the stature and build of a bear, and the horns of a ram. Where had it come from? Would its bloodlust end with the cultists or would it come for us too? How could we even begin to stop that… that monster?
The beast heaved back the ensnaring chain, pulling the brute off balance and bringing it to the floor. The predator leapt on its prey with uncanny speed for its size, its claws digging into the flesh of the almost-man that I now almost felt sorry for. The brutes death would have been quick and incredibly painful if not for its companion, as the shaman’s shadow tentacles wrapped themselves around the beasts neck and head, dragging the devil off her companion and slamming it into a bookcase. Unfortunately for her, the beast recovered quickly. She cast tentacle after tentacle, both tangible and not, but the beast kept coming and eventually overcame her. It took seconds for the body to become completely unrecognizable as human. The brute attempted to intervene, but the Highwayman scrambled to his feet and sliced its throat from behind. A more merciful death than it would have received at the beast’s hands.
Finally able to breath with some amount of regularity, albeit not painlessly, I too rose to my feet. The Leper propped himself up on his sword. The beast, bored with its prey, moved on to the unconscious shaman I’d stunned earlier. To die in her sleep was a mercy that blasphemer didn’t deserve. After finishing her off, the beast turned towards us. It walked slowly, each footstep almost as loud as its deep and labored breathing. The chains it was dragging clinked quietly, chains that were attached to… manacles? Wait… could it be? The beast roared a final time as its body contorted, shrinking and changing color. We all wanted to look away from the transformation, but we couldn’t. After what felt like minutes of convulsions and groans, the manacled man stood before us once again.
“Well… you know the truth now. I… am an Abomination. If you want to kill me, I’d understand, but I can’t guarantee that It won’t try and stop you.”
We were still dumbstruck, unsure of what to say. How do you address someone that’s simultaneously the most pathetic man you’ve ever met and also the most terrifying beast to walk this earth. The Abomination squirmed uncomfortably in anticipation of our response. For once it was I who spoke first.
“Do you have it under control?”
“Uh, for the most part? I can’t always control when it comes out, but I can stop it from hurting people I care about… assuming I have something else to attack nearby.”
The Highwayman sighed, sheathing his dagger and pistol. “Well that’ll just have to do then. We need all the help we can get I s’pose. Vestal, get to work healing Leper and yourself. We need to keep moving.”
The Leper smiled the faintest of smiles, patted the Abomination on the shoulder, and then followed after the Highwayman. I leaned over to the Abomination and whispered, “The Lord doesn’t approve of alcohol, but if- I mean when- we make it back to town I think we all owe you a drink.”
The Abomination smiled weakly and for a second I couldn’t see that weight in his eyes, that burden of the beast within.
“Thanks Vestal.”
He followed behind me as we joined our companions, resuming our journey into… The Darkest Dungeon.
#darkest dungeon#my writing#short story#video games#fanfiction#i guess#horror#action#fantasy#writing
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
i remember.
2,461 words | fluff, light angst
↳ meeting on a train au + lim changkyun
author’s note: this turned into a bit of a free-write, but i did enjoy how it came out! i know i’ve been crazy slow with these milestones “drabbles” but they’re still in the works!
They met on a train, going for unknown destinations, until eventually they had to get off and take their hearts with them.
—
The cerulean hues of the sky are congregated with wisps of white fluff, passing by within a blink of an eye as the train continues on its path toward the city of Seoul. Inside the cabins are a conglomerate of businessmen stuck on their devices. Each of them either mindlessly scrolling or fervently bashing their keyboards over tons of emails on matters that go beyond anyone else’s concerns. Despite how much they’re missing out on the very experience, there’s some peace to this.
The sight of businessmen glued to their cellphones or laptops are not new to you. Neither are the sights of elderly grandmas patiently waiting for their stop or the kids running around trying to catch glimpses out of different windows. Although these sorts of things remained the same, the view you see outside of the windows always manages to steal your breath away.
Perhaps it’s also just because you’ve always liked trains. They gave you the comfort of travel like a car without the stuffiness, and they were often quicker too. But it was also the freedom that they extruded that often ignited your fancy for the railroads and semi-plush seats. You enjoyed knowing that adventure was up ahead even if it were a mere three hours away. The very idea always struck you the most in childhood. Nowadays, it’s gotten harder to rid yourself of this desire ever since the first time.
The wind whips around you, your hair flies around your visage and even your coat billows toward against the gusts. To escape the cold, you shuffle into the train’s main seating area after a couple of well-dressed men jabbering on their cellphones. With your suitcase at your hand, you maneuver around them in search of a cabin, preferably empty or at least with two other people maximum. Although you’re fond of people to an extent, you want to enjoy the view of the window, actually bask in the experience of the train ride while the destination—wherever you decide to stop off at—stumbles upon you.
You walk between the aisles, careful not to run anyone’s foot over or run into anyone to avoid any possible conflict. Again, you’re here to enjoy yourself, not sustain a disdain for something you’ve waited twelve years for. Between gaining entrance into university and hoping to sate your parents’ expectations, you needed some kind of peace, some kind of solace with a life of post-high school graduate taking hold. You’ve had your fair share of crises for what comes next, but this trip was keeping you the most sane.
Over the course of your academic career, you’ve felt the pressure to know what you want to do. If you don’t, then you’re screwed basically. The thought alone is taxing. It even elicits a shudder down your spine as you pass through cabins filled with a plethora of different, unknown faces. None of which judged you for what you were doing or tried to nag you into some fruitless career that you knew no happiness would come out of it.
At least here I’m a nobody like them. Just a traveler.
Relief floods your system the moment you pass by a cabin with only one occupant. You’ve found your spot.
“Is this seat taken?” The unevenness to your tone is hard to mask even with the softness, but you can’t help but feel your nerves tense up knowing that this is finally happening. You were finally going to ride this train and go somewhere far away. All you needed to do is find a seat, which you might’ve—you’re just praying you won’t be stuck with someone that’ll put a damper on the journey itself. After all, the trek to your destination also made up for about 85% of the train ride itself.
The man you’ve just addressed barely looks up, his dark hues flickering to meet yours before training them back onto a half-scribbled blank page. He doesn’t say anything, only provides you with a small nod of his head, so you take that opportunity and plop down on the grey leather cushion.
There’s a small metal table underneath him, his knit-covered limbs moving effortlessly with the small pencil in hand. You take a moment to really look at his visage, noting his fan of dark lashes, the strong definition of his nose, and the way his lips remained in a thin line. His hair is dark, swept to the side though there’s one piece that refuses to remain at his profile. He dons dark clothing, comfortable ones for travel, and you can’t help but admit that he’s handsome.
You don’t know what it is about him, but you try not to stare, allowing your attention to drift to the window with your own thoughts circling around in your head. By now, the train is moving, taking its passengers to wherever it is they need to get to. Not you, though.
You glance back to your only cabin mate for a brief second again.
“Where are you going?” he asks softly, meeting your gaze. His voice is soft, but there’s something that strikes it as calming to you. It suits him. And it stops you from breaking eye contact with him. “Is your stop coming up in the next half-hour?”
“Oh no…” you say with a small smile curving on your lips. Truthfully, you hadn’t expected him to talk to you at all. “Why do you ask?”
He exhales and the sound is akin to a soft laugh, though it only fuels your own pink cheeks. “You keep looking out the window, so I thought you were waiting.”
You shake your head, laughing then, “No, no. I’m just excited. This is my first train ride.”
“Oh, really?” he asks, eyes widening slightly.
You nod, “What about you?”
He shakes his head, “i’d say it’s my second or third? I enjoy riding so I figured this over a taxi.”
“Are you just traveling or is this a business trip?” you ask, nearly facepalming yourself for prying. So, you’re quick to lean forward to add, “Or is it top-secret, y’know, like spy work?”
You’re still smiling as you say this, and he begins to do the same. He even gives a nod, “Yeah, definitely top-secret. I’m delivering some artwork to this gallery. Gotta keep it from those evil businessmen you see over there,” he points a thumb to his right at the swarm of businessmen outside the window.
You laugh as his smile widens. “Does this art gallery have a destination then?”
He shrugs, his features scrunching together slightly, “More like, trying to find that right gallery. I can’t just give it to anyone, y’know.”
You nod in understanding, “I’m sure you’ll find the right one then. I don’t doubt your spy abilities.”
“Thank you,” he beams, “Um… what’s your name?”
“Y/N,” you reply, feeling your cheeks tingle.
“Y/N.” he repeats, giving a nod. He extends his hand to yours before giving it a firm shake. “I’m Changkyun.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Changkyun…” you then whisper, “the spy.”
He nods, biting back a small laugh, “And, you too, Y/N…” he leans forward to whisper, “the non-spy.”
You’re about to open your mouth to ask him about his art when he suddenly asks, “And where is your destination?”
You shrug in response. You admit you don’t really have a particular one. “If it feels right then I’ll get off. I kinda just bought a ticket and figured I’d stop wherever.”
He nods in understanding, rather than the usual hesitance you were used to getting, “Kinda relatable. I’m not exactly a concise traveler so I get that—it’s a lot more fun being surprised anyway.”
“Thank you!” you then say, “Not many people get that.”
He laughs, “Believe me, I get it. I’m an artist—next to being a spy—so getting called impractical it practically a second name for me.”
“Speaking of art…” you decide to change the subject, “what’s that you’re working on?”
“Oh this?” he blinks, pointing at the sketch pad with his pencil. When you nod, you can see the corners of his lips twitch, “Just a random piece. I liked how the outside looked with the railroad signs and the wind blowing everything.”
He turns the pad toward you, allowing you to take in his rendition of the outside world. It’s not particularly outlandish but you can see the way he captures the shadows in particular areas and emphasizes certain parts of the scenery that just keep you captivated to the scene. You know it’s supposed to be the scene you saw outside at the train stop, but you’re almost sure that this is a place away from there, a place you’d like to see as well. You like it, and you say so.
You’re then met with a dumbfounded expression on the young man, his brows are even arched upward, “Really?”
You nod, “Really.” When he tells you it was just a quick sketch, you just roll your eyes and reply, “Quick sketch or not, I really like it. I feel like I just want to be there. I want to see what you see.”
And, in that moment, Changkyun lights up, even more than when you told him you liked his sketch. His art is his everything. It’s an outlet, an escape from the real world, and as much as he’s liked keeping it to himself, he’s also enjoyed sharing it with people (which was partially why he was going from art gallery to art gallery to sell his pieces). Unfortunately, he’s received more misses than hits than he’d like, some of his friends were beginning to coax into becoming more practical, and for once in about three months, he heard encouragement—thanks to you.
The train ride passes like grains of sands into a sieve. You don’t know where it’s gone, but it’s slipped past your grasps faster than you can blink, because one moment you’re listening to Changkyun talk through his portfolio, each of them holding your attention in ways you never thought would, until you hear them call out for Daecheon.
You two blink from within your daze as if reality was setting in now that you both had your escape. He fumbles through his words now, a little more than when he was explaining through his plethora of pieces (which was still cute either way), that it was his stop.
“Oh…” you say, brows furrowing now. “Damn, time has really flown with you, Changkyun.”
He nods, making sure the pieces are pulled together in the leather folder. “I know… I—” he laughs, “—I actually normally never talk that much with anyone, but it was really easy with you. I liked it a lot.”
“I like you—I mean it—a lot too.” you fumble, giving your thigh a small pinch, “Ah, well, before I regret not doing this, can I see your sketch pad?”
He hands you the book, and you flip it to a clean page. You look to him with a raised brow, “Do you care if I write in this?”
He shakes his head, so you rummage through your bag for a pen, scribbling a set of numbers on the fresh page and signing it off with a smiley-face and your name.
“Call me sometime?” you tell him, handing him the book. “Maybe we can get lost on here… together.”
He takes a moment to respond, but he holds the sketchpad in his arms. There’s even a smile that’s curving wider on his lips, “I’d like that.”
He called you a few days after that first day, and you two talked about things that paved the way for what ensued. He was an artist with a passion for what he loved, though his finances could hardly agree at times, he made it work. He learned that you were a student with a drive to see the world, and you were determined to make that happen. Between your two worlds, it converged with your desires for more than met the actual eye.
It hadn’t even been a month since you last saw him that first time, but you had trips going on every two months to places neither of you had been to. It was the start of adventures, of memories you held near and dear, and still, you keep them close. You got on those train rides with him, passing between cities together, with no particular destination in mind. Only an open heart and mind until you both found yourselves in places that just seemed right, whether that was stopping by Busan for the beach or the rural area for a taste of simplicity.
In this day and age, lives as frivolous as this paved the way for newfound love and problems in the longevity. You knew it from the way his destinations grew more and more practical, less of traveling and more in settling in the comforts of your shared city in Seoul. And still, you couldn’t find it in your heart to settle. It wasn’t your nature, and as much as you wanted to adapt to his taste, you could not. He couldn’t with you either.
He did make your heart soar. He made soar high and low. Regardless, it was the kind of flight that felt like once in a lifetime. You just couldn’t bring yourself to land when he was ready to.
Laughter about spies and evil term papers melted into arguments and seething silences so much that that soaring felt like crashing and suddenly your heart just wasn’t in it anymore. Because, one thing about you is that your heart goes into whatever you want, whatever is worth it, but one day, that love for Changkyun was nothing more than just a shell.
As you passed through the familiar hallways, looking between the cabins, you can’t help but notice a head of dark auburn locks that look a little too much like the man you once loved. He’s sketching and everything. You almost want to say something when you see a dainty hand wave itself in front of the man (though it isn’t him), and you can’t help but still feel a little relieved.
Months ago, your heart would’ve been broken, probably shattered, because love is fleeting. It’s like those grains of sand going down the sieve. And, you suppose the same can be said about your need for train rides, but you know that as quickly as everything passes, it’s best to enjoy it while you can.
Whatever’s ahead, you’re happy to keep it close to your heart like the times before.
#mxnetwork#mxwriters#changkyun scenarios#changkyun fluff#changkyun fa#changkyun fanfic#changkyun angst#monsta x scenarios#monsta x fluff#monsta x fanfic#monsta x fanfiction#changkyun x reader#emswriting#au drabbles#drabble game 2
345 notes
·
View notes
Text
Memories from Kuala Lumpur – an introduction to Malaysia
Malaysia’s thriving capital city is a colorful metropolis where every culture, religion, and taste smash together to form a new modern Asia unlike anywhere I’ve ever been before. Let’s visit Kuala Lumpur!
The beating heart of Malaysia never stops, 24 hours a day it thrums along never sleeping and always alive, giving off a unique feel of energy that I haven’t really encountered in other big cities before. With a feeling of youthful ambition, Kuala Lumpur is quickly elbowing its way up the ladder of big cities demanding a visit in and of itself.
Now, I’ll be perfectly honest here; in terms of places to visit Kuala Lumpur wasn’t at the tippy top of my wishlist. But I will say it had been on my radar for years and had increasingly piqued my interest as I frequently fly through there from New Zealand overseas – it’s a popular transit city from the Pacific to, well, anywhere really.
Hello affordable long-haul flights! And I had a stunning suite at the Ritz-Carlton waiting to embrace me when I arrived instead of a grueling airport layover followed up with another long-haul flight somewhere else.
Well, I could get used to that.
This time around instead of stopping through on my usual lightning trip, I decided to give Kuala Lumpur the attention it deserves, and spent a few days exploring both its famous features and rooting around trying to find the hidden gems that you know are buried here.
And KL didn’t disappoint, holy crap! Just you wait. Are you ready?
I’ve been back home for a week, and I’m still dreaming (and drooling) over the incredible foods, stunning sites to visit, and especially the friendly people who are all but willing to shout from the rooftops of how much they love their city.
Without any irony, I can say that Kuala Lumpur is a city that enchants, if you let it.
First things first, I am a small-town country bumpkin at heart. Big cities aren’t always my jam. I’m picky. Really picky. A city has to tick almost all of my boxes for me to rave about it. Spoiler alert – KL does.
But instead of just doing up another travel blogger list of all the same spots that you totally-definitely-MUST visit on a trip to Malaysia (yawn), I wanted to try something a bit different. I want to share my favorite memories from my adventure in a new country through words and photos. I want to bring you along with me on my trip and let you feel what I felt, discover what I discovered, hated and loved what I hated and loved. What do you think?
Now, come with me on this visual and slightly verbal journey to the heart of Malaysia with 10 of my most dominating memories. And of course, don’t hold back, and let me know what you think at the end. Now, enjoy!
Laughter
Solo female travel is kinda my thing and has been for a decade. But we aren’t exclusive. I really enjoy traveling with other people who I get along with and who have similar travel values – i.e. let me be in charge and who love food. The people I explored Malaysia made the trip so much more fun than I think I would have had on my own.
I joined up with Trey Ratcliff in Malaysia as part of his very cool project 80 Stays around the World project with the Ritz-Carlton, a campaign to inspire art, creativity and presence. What a coincidence, those are all concepts that I’m all about in my own life and work!
I’ve been friends with Trey for years, a fellow American who lives near me in New Zealand, and for those of you who don’t know of him, he’s kinda of a big deal. One of the biggest photographers in the world, a bit of a humble gent who loves tech, every time we went on adventure together I couldn’t stop smiling and laughing! Now those are the people you want to be traveling with, right?
Me: “Trey, pose like a foodie blogger”
Flavors
The story of Kuala Lumpur is best experienced through food, something, of course, I never object to when traveling.
From sizzling satays to spicy rice dishes to fresh everything, all the mangos, all the coconuts, if you only come to Kuala Lumpur, let it be for the food.
An absolute mecca for foodies, the mishmash of cultures and stories here really play into building KL into a city of feasts. Famous for street food, which of course I thoroughly enjoyed, I also made sure to check out more modern fares and local haunts, always on the hunt for the next best meal.
5 Reasons Why Having a Food Allergy Shouldn’t Keep You from Traveling
Comfort
Growing up on the urban east coast in the US, the Ritz-Carlton hotels have always been a part of my childhood memories. It was a great joy for me to begin to return to them in adulthood, you know, once I evolved past the backpacker phase of my late teens and early twenties – shivers, glad that chapter is done and dusted.
Where the ancient rivers of Gombak and Klang intersect in Kuala Lumpur lies the stunningly renovated Ritz-Carlton, which let me tell you, is so cozy you might find it hard to leave and journey outside. The unaffected luxury of the Ritz guarantees a pleasant time for a traveler like me.
The friendliness of the kind souls who work here really made all of the difference for me, whether that was coming home back to my room after a long day exploring only to find a bubble bath drawn and hand-written note from my butlers (yes, plural) to the thoughtful touches hidden throughout the property, it was definitely my kind of place to escape to.
And they have a library restaurant, need I say more?
Image by Trey Ratcliff – Stuck in Customs
Fusion
Kuala Lumpur is the textbook definition of a modern-day melting pot.
Cosmopolitan and fresh, its three main ethnicities are Malay, Chinese, and Indian, all of which coexist and bring their own languages, cultures, religions, histories, traditions, and of course, foods to mix together and form a modern-day Malaysia.
While I’m no expert on commenting on cultures, I can say that this was what fascinated me the most about Malaysia, how one place would remind me of China, while others more spots in Southeast Asia. Of course it’s easiest to see when you visit some of the mosques and temples in the city, but I would recommend really opening your eyes and your heart while you’re there and asking locals to share some of what they love about their city with you.
Trust me, you’ll learn a lot.
Radiant
I’m such a sucker for colorful places – I mean, have you seen my Instagram?
A veritable rainbow in real life, I’m always drawn to the more vibrant places of the world, and Kuala Lumpur is no exception.
From the incredible street art to the street food markets to the temples, mosques and other noteworthy spots, KL embodies the philosophy of why paint in beige when you can have a rainbow?
Heat
Kuala Lumpur is humid and hot. That’s all. Other pasty blonde folk of Scandinavian descent like me best prepare yourselves.
Scents
Kuala Lumpur is full of smells that are utterly unique and different from what I’ve grown accustomed to in the mountains of New Zealand. I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but the more I travel, the more attune I become to the way places smell.
And of course memory and smell are completely intertwined.
As soon as I stepped out of the airport in KL, I was hit with the warm humidity that reminded me of my earlier trips to places like Bali and Bangkok, the urban smell of diesel and simmering fried woks.
Perhaps what was most unique was the incense in the temples. That’s what I think of the most when I remember the smell of KL.
Illuminate
Trey’s a total night-owl. I’m a bit of a grandma.
The city really gets going when the sun goes down, the temperatures drop and people come out in droves. Kuala Lumpur at night is next level, and while I struggled to stay away past 10pm and keep up with Trey on his evening wanders in search of the best views of the city at night, I did manage to make up to one of the many rooftops of the high-rises that decorate the skyline.
A trip with Trey wouldn’t be complete without one city lights photo! How did I do?
Image by Trey Ratcliff – Stuck in Customs
Exquisite
High-tea in the afternoon is very much a thing in Asia (and of course other places too), and often when I’m in these big cities I indulge. I mean, who wouldn’t?
There is just something so divine about dressing up and sitting down with friends in a beautiful space (just to enjoy yourself), sampling delicious exotic teas with smaller savory and sweet goodies. Why yes, I’ll have two of everything!
The Ritz-Carlton in KL does a fabulous afternoon tea that’s worth treating yourself to, if only to just sit and relax in the wonderfully decorated lobby lounge, but I also highly recommend taking afternoon tea at the St. Regis to see another part of Kuala Lumpur.
Rosy
It was absolutely sweltering when we made our way out of the city center to visit the Putra Mosque, a place I had heard about but really wanted to clap eyes on.
Completely pink, it’s probably one of the most memorable mosques I’ve ever been to.
For a big city that seems a bit impenetrable, Kuala Lumpur left me feeling nothing but rosy happy thoughts. My memories are all positive, filled with noodles and colors, of delicious spices and happy smiles among new friends. It’s a place I wouldn’t hesitate to return to again, and get to know a little better. Thank you Malaysia!
What do you think? Have you been to Kuala Lumpur before? What are some of your favorite memories from a recent trip somewhere? Share!
Many thanks to the Ritz-Carlton for hosting me in Malaysia – like always I’m keeping it real, all opinions are my own, like you could expect less from me.
The post Memories from Kuala Lumpur – an introduction to Malaysia appeared first on Young Adventuress.
from Young Adventuress https://ift.tt/2v8wWiB
0 notes
Last Seen Blogs
moqaranaat
Untitled
aesthetics0790-blog
Aesthetics|جماليات
mrstrangedrum
something from nothing
whimsy-em
Whimsy Em
jamesquasblog-blog
James&Qua 💑 #Couple-goals #entertainment #Postive