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papercorgiworld · 4 months

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Christmas saviours

Blaise, Draco, Enzo, Theo and Mattheo

A bit of an angsty beginning because of some Christmas loneliness, but you need not worry our most handsome Slytherins will save Christmas Eve with fluff and kisses.

Warning: only kisses and maybe some suggestiveness

Not proofread, feedback always welcome.

I planned on finishing another fic, but ended up writing Christmas fluff. I hope you enjoy it! I wish you all a wonderful Christmas and for those who don’t celebrate Christmas, I wish you a most wonderful day.

Christmas, you loved it! Every year you celebrated with your family and created some lovely memories. Although you knew this year would be different, you were confident that also this year you would manage to create wonderful memories.

You had only recently moved to the UK and this was your first year at Hogwarts. You were definitely the odd one out. Everyone in your year already knew each other for years and then there was you: new and permanently lost in the castle. You had made some friends, but also weren’t gonna win any popularity contests any time soon.

The news that your parents had to work this Christmas made your stomach turn and your heart physically hurt. However, you were already in the Christmas spirit so you were hopeful that you could still figure something out. You consoled your parents by telling them that it would be good to spend Christmas at Hogwarts to make friends.

And that was the plan. You invited everyone you had ever talked to at Hogwarts and also everyone from your year. And you learned a lot, like some people really need to learn how to say no in a polite way and most people go home for Christmas. Now Christmas eve was only a day away, two people had confirmed they were coming and there were two people left on your list who hadn’t responded. Possibly four people would show up, worst case scenario two.

Being hopeful and in full Christmas spirit you did your shopping, preparing everything for an unforgettable Christmas eve. On your way from Hogsmeade one of your invitees came running towards you. “Hey (y/n), so glad to catch.” You smiled brightly. “Here to help me with the groceries?” Your friend smiled. “Uhm, no, but I’ll help.” You’re pleased you can let go of some of the heavy bags. “I was actually looking for you, because I got great news, my parents made it back in time after all. So, me and my brother are leaving in half an hour. I'm really sorry we gotta miss out on your Christmas dinner.” Your smile fades, but you immediately force a fake one onto your lips.

Walking into the room of requirement you finally fall apart. You watch as Hogwarts conjures the most picturesque Christmas scene you’ve ever seen. Tears softly make their way down your cheeks, but you don’t sob, you try to ignore your misery. With shaky hands you put everything you bought in its designated spot. When you kneel down to set the four small Christmas gifts you bought under the tree you finally admit to yourself that you’ll be spending tomorrow evening alone, unwrapping your own gifts. After your moment of self pity you make your way down to your dorm.

The next morning you decide that there is still hope! Though the chances are slim, there’s still a chance one of the two who haven’t responded yet will show up or maybe both. You try and find them throughout the day, but fail. Around 5 you start dressing up. Around 6 you light the candles for your grand Christmas eve party.

Your heart twists and turns as it's hurting terribly, like it would rather stop beating than suffer another minute of agonizing loneliness. You stuff your face with delicious snacks. “What was I thinking? Like someone was gonna show up. I watched too many mushy Christmas movies. Christmas is overrated anyway! I’m turning into the grinch! Uh, I’m talking to myself! I’m going insane, might as well steal everyone’s Christmas next year.” You stop ranting and grab a plate, ready to start cleaning up and go to bed at 7.

Blaise

Suddenly the door opens and you stare in disbelief as Blaise Zabini walks in. “I was in the neighborhood, though I would stop by.” Like a deer caught in headlights you stand still. “Early? Aren’t I?” He looks around the empty room and continues. “If you want I can help you prepare.” You look down at your feet wondering what to say. “You look absolutely stunning, by the way.” “Thanks.” You put down the plate you were holding and manage to gather enough courage to be honest. “Everything is ready. And you’re not early. No one showed up.”

Blaise seems shocked by the news and makes his way around the table to you. “What? That’s horrible. All your effort.” His hands rest on your arms, giving you comfort. “I’ll live.” You say playing it down, but your glassy eyes betray you. “But why are you here? I expected everyone to be at their respective parties.” Blaise’s lips formed a line and you could see he was in deep thought for a second. “I am.” You looked confused at the Slytherin in front of you. “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” You frowned and smiled at the same time. Happy with the news but not quite sure what to think about it.

“So… what’s for dinner?” You wanna question everything he’s doing, but his excitement distracts you and you start telling him about all that you had prepared. You two have a lovely dinner together. Blaise is his most charming self as he wants nothing more than to make you forget that no one else showed up. To any outsider it would look as if you two had planned to spend Christmas together. But you kept wondering why he was here. You had to ask. “Why were you in the neighborhood?” A lot of stutters escaped a normally always easy talker, which made you question whether he was in the neighborhood at all. “There was no reason for you to be here, was there?” Realizing it was pointless to come up with excuses, he confessed. “I know I told you I wasn’t coming to your party but I have a little something and that’s why I stopped by.”

You found his choice of words odd. “A little something? Like a gift?” Blaise thought for a moment. “No, not really. Stand up for me will ya?” He got up and you did the same as he requested. He signaled you to come closer and when you still stood too far away he gently tugged your hand until your chest almost met his. He smiled a little goofy and only after a moment did you realize he was nervous. Blaise reached for something in the inner pocket of his jacket. You watch him carefully pull out a branch of mistletoe. He held in between the two of you. “I brought mistletoe.” You laughed as he stated the obvious. “Isn’t it supposed to be above the person you wish to kiss?” He nodded and reached for his wand.

Casting Levioso made the branch float above the both of you. Blaise reached for both your hands and you in return took a step closer. You were now pressed against one another. “Merry Christmas, (y/n).” He leaned in. “Merry Christmas, Blaise.” You whispered against his lips before kissing him.

Draco

The door slams open and you’re shocked to see Draco Malfoy of all people. Is he lost? He looks around smugly, one hand in his pocket and a smirk on his face. “Quiet the party, new girl.” Gesturing towards the empty room. “Trust me the atmosfeer was great until you came in.” You immediately snapped back. He simply huffed and walked towards the table examining all the different dishes. “So where are you guests?” He asked sincerely but without looking up from the food. “I guess everyone had other parties to attend. Understandable.” Your voice was so soft and defeated it made Draco look up at you worried that you might start crying any moment.

He wasn’t really good at situations like these so he quickly made his way over to the drinks. “May I?” He asked politely, gesturing to a bottle of champagne. You nodded. “But it’s probably too cheap for your taste.” Draco gave the bottle one look, shrugged, and opened it anyway. “I’ve already had expensive champagne and cheap company today. Got bored. So I decided to come here for cheap champagne and better people.” You take the glass he offers you. “I’m sorry, it’s a ‘cheap champagne and no people’ kinda party.” He takes a rather large swing from the glass and looks at you with a softness you’ve never seen before. “I’ll take you and your cheap champagne over my family’s horrible Christmas party anytime. So, will you have me as your guest?” You nod with glittering eyes. You quickly explain all the different options your table offers.

He tastes everything and overflows you with compliments. His table manners are exquisite and he even teaches you some little details of fancy dining. But most of all you spent your time laughing at all the ridiculous parties his family organizes. It helps him vent and your laugh makes him heal, like it’s all alright now that you agree it’s just as absurd as he thinks it is. After you’ve finished dining you turn to the tree and the gifts underneath. “If you still have time I’ve got four gifts under the tree. It’s just little trinkets, but to leave them unopened just feels horrible.” The Slytherin stares at you with wide eyes as you make your way to the tree to pick up one of the gifts. When you turn around with a gift in your hands he gets up from his seat in a hurry. “I can’t stay.” Is all he says as he picks up his scarf.

“Just one gift.” Your voice is almost a whisper and Draco closes his eyes for a moment. “It’s just, I have nothing for you. I come barging in, eating all the food and now gifts, while I have nothing to give-“ “You showed up! You saved my Christmas. You’re like my hero.” Draco feels like he’s going to burst with emotion at your words. He… a hero, it made him feel like a whole different person. “Truth is, (y/n) you saved me and not just my Christmas, all of me.” Only now you realize how close together you are with only the gift between you two. He looks so fragile and that’s probably why you suddenly felt the courage and need to go in for a soft kiss. He was shocked for a moment with eyes wide, but surrendered to your warmth and kissed back, his hand reaching for the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

“Will you now open a gift?” You ask again when you break the kiss. He smiles sheepishly. “Yes, anything for my princess.”

Enzo

“I’m here!” You stare at energetic Berkshire as he comes through the door announcing his presence. “Might have nicked something fancy that might just save your Christmas.” He holds a bottle of expensive firewhisky up. “What are you doing here?” You asked, confused by his presence and enthusiasm. His smile softens and he puts the bottle down on the table. “I had a suspicion that the new girl’s Christmas party wasn’t going to be a great success.” You felt horrible hearing him say the obvious. He walked around the table towards you.

“I’m here to keep you company.” You huff at his offer. “I don’t need your pity. I’m sure you have plenty of other places to be.” Enzo grabs your hand as you try to turn away from him in an attempt to hide your misery. “You need my pity, this is a pitiful party.” You try to force your hand out of his grip but he has a surprisingly tight hold of you and you end up closer to him. “And also, there’s nothing for me at the other parties, because the cute new girl isn’t there.”

You look in his gentle eyes wondering if he really means it. “You want to spend Christmas eve with me?” You ask, almost afraid of the answer. He nods and an adorable smile tugs at your lips as you no longer can contain your happiness. During dinner Enzo catches you up on all the latest gossip. But after a while you get worried if people gossip this much at Hogwarts then for sure they will talk about your lame party. It’s this concern that leads you to ask for a favor. “Uhm. Enzo, about my party… could you not tell anybody. Like I can just say that I canceled it. I mean.. I really don’t want people figuring out about my lame Christmas party.”

“Can’t.” You stare at him as he swallows a bite of his desert. “If your party didn’t happen then where was I. I can’t have people thinking I was alone.” “But telling people you were at the new girl’s lame party won’t do your reputation any good either.” Enzo shakes his head and gets up from his seat opposite of you to take a seat next to you. “Darling, this is not a lame party. It’s a lovely party. We’ve got amazing decorations, delicious food, firewhisky, gifts under the tree and each other. Are you not happy?” You turn to him, feeling a bit embarrassed that you were so caught up with what people would think rather than when you think. “Of course, I was being stupid. This is a lovely Christmas, thank you Enzo.”

His smile turns cheeky. “Yeah, I kind of saved your Christmas eve. Didn’t I?” You nod and give him a kiss on the cheek. “Yes, yes you definitely saved my evening.” Enzo licks his lips in a mischievous way. “A kiss on the cheek?! That's all a guy gets for saving Christmas?” You laugh at his dramatics. You fake a scoff and get up from your seat. “Enzo, have you no shame.” Suddenly he grabs you pulling you into his lap, a giggle escaping your lips. “No.” He states and wiggles his eyebrows. “Fine.” You kiss him softly and bite his lip softly while purposely pressing your chest against his, giving him more than he bargained for. The kiss deepens and his hand slips to your thighs resting there and gently squeezing. “I definitely know some guys who’re going to be jealous when they hear about this party.” “Shut up, Enzo.” You say playfully before kissing him again.

Theo

Theodore Nott? Unbelievable? To avoid any snarky comments you decide to diss yourself before he gets the chance. “Welcome to the most boring Christmas party ever.” Theodore simply snorts at your fake enthusiasm. “Pretty sure, I just came from the world’s most boring Christmas party.” You huff. “Wow, I suck even in organising lame parties.” Theo looks around. “Pretty sure this doesn’t qualify as a party.” You narrow your eyes, how does he manage to always have the last word.

“What are you doing here, Nott?” You ask as your frustration with Theo beats the sadness over your party. “If I remember correctly you said my Christmas enthusiasm was as overrated as my academic skills.” Theodore can’t help but roll his eyes. women and their need to remember every stupid thing he says. “Sounds like me, probably was me. But clearly I’m desperate… so, do you take in strays?” Your attitude disappears as you look at him, he was in his way sincerely asking if he could stay.

“Of course. You’re very welcome.” Your voice comes out with a little more doubt than planned, but Theo takes your welcome anyway. You both sit opposite of one another. “You must be really desperate if you came to my party?” You ask softly, no snarkiness in your tone. “You must be really desperate for a guest if you let me in, after all I’ve not been my kindest self around you.” You look at the food on your plate. “I’m really desperate, since obviously no one bothered to show up aside from you. But also I can see the humor in most of the insults you throw at me.” A warm smile appears on the slytherin’s face, feeling understood and a little less bad.

For the most part your evening is filled with humorous insults and snarky comments, but as time passes your rivalry ebbs away. The conversations get more serious and Theo almost exclusively has words of endearment for you. His softness envelopes you and your Christmas joy finds its way to Theodore. After lounging on the couch for a while you pull yourself back up. “Gifts? I’ve got four and they’re all for you.” He growls gutturally. “I don’t like gifts, plus I don’t have one for you.” You frown. “Who doesn’t like gifts? You absolute weirdo.” Theo laughs at your unfiltered opinion of him. He pushes himself to sit straight and watches you pick out the first gift. You don’t see how fragile he looks as he watches your gentleness.

When you go sit next to him and joyfully present him the gift he looks in your eyes. “Come on.” You urge like an impatient child. “Fine, but me first.” You frown and purse your lips. “You said you didn’t have anything.” Out of his pocket a fumbled piece of paper appears. “It’s not something I wanted to share, but it’s Christmas right, so why not.” He nonchalantly pushes it to you, waving the paper impatiently, like he wants to be rid of it. When you take it he looks away avoiding your confused gaze. You ignore his bizarre behavior and gently unfold the paper, revealing a sketch of you: you paying attention during class, probably transfigurations.

Theo’s still looking at anything but you. You shuffle closer to him and cup his cheek, turning his face to meet yours. “You drew this? I love it. Thank you.” “You’re a bit of a distraction during class. Probably why I’ve been picking on you.” A soft laugh rolls over your lips when you hear his confession. “And how do I distract you? As you can see all I do is pay attention like a good student.” You hold the sketch up to him as proof. “You do a lot more than that, (y/n). You get me thinking.” You can’t contain your smile. “I get you thinking? How awful of me.” He hisses at your mockery, but when he closes what little space there was between the two of you, your confidence fades. “You have me thinking about doing this” His lips catch yours, he kisses you with so much passion your whole body goes crazy for him in an instant. When he finally releases you, your head feels hazy. “What’s that all about?” Theo grins, enjoying the obvious effect he has on you. “This is my Christmas spirit, I’m feeling generous.” Is all he says before he pushes you to lay on the couch and continues to kiss you with unrelenting passion.

Mattheo

You hear noise at the door and turn to look at it slowly open. You hold your breath, still holding the plate as Mattheo Riddle walks in. Holding flowers in one hand and a gift bag in the other. He looks at you, but you just stare quietly and then he looks around the room. “Oh, I’m too late. I’m so sorry.”

Mattheo Riddle, Slyhterin bad boy, Slytherin trouble maker, son of the dark lord, most handsome guy in your year - maybe even all of Hogwarts - show up to your lame Christmas party with flowers and apologies. Weird. You had indeed invited him, when you announced that everyone was welcome during potions class but you were pretty sure he was among the people making fun of you.

You snapped out of your thoughts, someone was here, you were in no position to be picky about who it was. “No, you’re not late.” He looks confused at the empty seats. “Then where is everyone?” You look around feeling exposed, but look back up at his questioning face. You bite your lip, trying to think of a lame excuse but finding none. “Uhm, no one showed up, except for you.” You eventually manage to say, eyes getting glassy. Mattheo makes a soft ‘oh’ sound and you quickly try to get rid of the awkward situation.

“There’s plenty of food if you wanna stay. And also four gifts for you, since you know no one showed up.” Mattheo stays silent for a few seconds. “But you don’t have to stay, this probably isn’t your ideal Christmas eve.” The slytherin simply shrugs. “It’s not like I have anything better to do and the food looks divine.” You can’t help but chuckle as the awkwardness ebbs away. “Flowers for the hostess.” He offers you the lovely winter bouquet he had been holding. A blush creeps up to your cheeks as you take them and conjure a vase.

Dining together has you feeling like you’ve known Mattheo your whole life. You’re surprised by so many things he tells you, but most of all by how easy it is to talk to him. After the desert you make your way to the couch near the Christmas tree. With the table between the two of you gone things feel different and you both fall silent. “You were actually the last person I thought would show up and yet here we are. I hope you’ve enjoyed yourself so far. Because I definitely have.”

Mattheo stares at you fondly but doesn’t say anything. “Anyways let’s start with the gifts.” As you stand up to reach for one of the gifts Mattheo pulls you down. You now sit so close that your hips are touching and he’s still holding on to your wrist. “This whole evening has been wonderful. You’re wonderful, (y/n).” It sounds like a love confession and you hold your breath. “And at the risk of ruining this evening, I would like to kiss you. Is that okay with you?” Your heart melts, you can’t believe this and no one at Hogwarts will ever believe this. You nod softly, insecure about what you’re getting yourself into.

His hand holds your cheek and you lean in as his lips reach yours, light as a feather his lips brush yours. Ever so slowly Mattheo deepens the kiss, making you go crazy with desire for more. When you lay your hand on his leg for support he sees it as a signal that you are comfortable with him and snakes an arm behind you to pull you closer. Only when the kiss ends do you realize you’re laying in his arms. “When I said let's start with the gifts I didn’t know one of the gifts was wrapped up with a tie and good looks.” You joke as you undo his already loose tie. He smirks as he watches you all comfortable and confident in his arms.

His free hand reaches for your leg urging you come sit on his lap with your legs on either side of him. He pulls you in for another tender kiss. “I did actually bring a gift for you. So if you really want to unwrap-“ You cut him off by slamming your lips into his with passion and eagerness. He complies and pulls you closer into him until there’s no space left. “And here I thought you were all innocent and cute.” Mattheo says, clearly entertained by your enthusiasm. “I’m, I’m just being a good hostess by making sure my one and only guest is having a good time.” Mattheo’s face lights up with genuine happiness. “No doubt you’re a good hostess, pretty sure you would make a wonderful girlfriend as well.”

#slytherin #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #blaise zabini imagine #draco malfoy imagine #theodore nott imagine #enzo berkshire imagine #mattheo riddle #papercorgiworldwritings

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princessamericachavez · 1 month

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There’s really not much to talk about after Chris brings up Shannon. Buck wants to say something more, to ease the kid’s pain, to reassure him that people who love him won’t always leave, but he’s still a little shaky on that department himself and doesn’t want to be hypocritical about it. So they deflect, change the subject, and a couple minutes later he lets Chris to his homework.

Eddie, of course, was listening. Buck knows. He almost expects to find him waiting by the door as he steps out of the room, but he’s not in the hallway, or in his room. Finally, he finds his best friend standing in the kitchen with a sour look and two unopened beers.

Buck opens one beer with another (a trick he’s used many times to impress dates) and settles for a bottle opener for the second one. Eddie accepts the drink and all but collapses on a seat by the kitchen island.

“He’s mad at her,” Eddie whispers into the bottle’s neck after two long gulps.

Buck tries desperately to find words of comfort but fails once more. His eyes fixate in his own hands instead. Waiting.

“I- I was so angry, too, but I thought maybe he could… I thought I could protect him from it.”

“You’ve done so much for him, for her,” Buck offers. “You’ve kept her memory alive.”

“It’s not enough.”

“It’s better than the alternative, trust me,” he says, thinking of the brother he only just started mourning. “Christopher loves his mom, and he knows she loved him. Even if… if the other stuff hurts, it was also part of her.”

“I don’t want him to judge her harshly.”

“Maybe you couldn’t help it.”

Eddie’s eyes snap towards him, pinning him with something defensive that could be mistaken for anger. But Buck doesn’t let himself flinch away.

“Eddie, Shannon was a person. A whole person. With her… mistakes, too. You can’t really love someone who is just a pretty picture. Chris can’t think his mom was just… just a perfect mom. She was more than that, the way you are more than a perfect dad.”

“In far from perfect,” Eddie scoffs, shaking his head.

“Not arguing with you there,” Buck huffs, teasingly, hoping to ease the tension. “But you’re a pretty damn good one, and you’re doing your best. And that’s what Chris knows, and that’s why he loves you.”

“Shannon was trying her best too.”

“I know. And… I think Chris knows it too. But he also gets to be a little angry about the not so perfect parts.”

Eddie puts the beer down. For an instant, like a flash, Buck is afraid of having pushed too far. Even with all the years and the trust between them, he will never truly shake the fear of one day crossing a line he can’t walk back and lose his best friend like everyone else in his life. But he has grown enough to not let that fear hold him back. Not with Eddie. Never with him.

“I’m kinda lost here, Buck. I feel like I screwed up somehow.”

“You didn’t.”

“How do I fix it.”

“You taught me that’s not always the answer, Eds.”

But Eddie looks at him with those big pleading eyes and, dammit, Buck wants to help him fix this too.

“Okay, so… if Chris was mad at you, what would you do?”

“Give him some time to cool off,” Eddie replies almost immediately. “Then try to talk to him, explain myself, see each other’s side of things.”

“Right,” Buck frowns. “Though I guess that’s…. Not a possibility with Shannon.”

“No,” Eddie rubs a hand over his face, “it’s not. Unless-“

His gesture freezes. He’s had an idea.

“Oh, Buck you’re a genius!”

“I am?”

“Yes! No. Yes… I- okay I think I have an idea. Maybe. I gotta think about it.”

Buck is eager to know the plan, but the way Eddie’s words are bouncing around it makes him feel like it’s a complicated topic. Or at least one his friend isn’t ready to voice yet.

“Well, I’m glad I could be of some help. Since my attempts at keeping Chris from turning into a little Buck 1.0 kinda failed,” he offers instead, as a change of topic.

It works. Eddie startles with a laugh that makes the kitchen feel five times lighter.

“You did alright, Buck. I really appreciate your help.”

And he means it. Buck can tell by the way their eyes meet, with an electric intensity, like they did before at the changing room. The ghost of Eddie’s hand on his shoulder lingers like static over his collarbone.

“Maybe you can ask Marisol to try next. You know, get some female wisdom in there.”

Buck doesn’t know why he says it, wants to kick himself in the teeth immediately, but then Eddie’s reaction fills him with relief. He looks appalled by the idea. Buck tries not to think too hard about why that reactions feels so good, tells himself not to let it go to his head.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he laughs nervously. “I mean, she’s great! But I don’t think we are there yet.”

Yet. Yet, yet, yet. Not yet, but some day. Soon, probably. Buck has been quietly living with that dread for weeks now. Knowing his days of… this are counted. That some day, soon, Eddie will have someone else to rely on for this. That the day is approaching when Eddie will sit him down to talk about his will again, to let him know he’s changed it all over again. For a better choice. A more permanent one.

“Better not to rush into things this time,” Eddie keeps talking.

“Right. Yeah. Yeah… no rush,” Buck barely remembers to smile.

Eddie sighs, takes a sip. Buck mirrors him.

“So, anyway,” Eddie stretches on his chair, “you got time?”

Barely enough.

“Always.”

As much as he has left.

“Cool,” Eddie smiles, “because I do believe I promised Chinese in exchange for this.”

“Really, Eddie, it was no favor. You know I’m happy to help with Chris.”

“I know, I know,” he rolls his eyes, standing up. “Just bare with me, okay? Will make me feel less like a failure tonight.”

“You’re not a failure, Eddie. Don’t say that.”

Eddie pauses on his way out. Puts a hand on Buck’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Buck. Seriously.”

The touch is almost as electric as lightning. Buck ducks his head, feeling his heart stop and restart all over again.

“Anytime, Eddie. Now, about that Chinese…”

“Right, Chinese,” Eddie perks up. “Your usual?”

#911 abc #buddie #911 fic #evan buck buckely #Eddie Diaz #fanfic

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iuciferic · 2 months

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I usually don’t make text posts on tumblr because I use this site as an archive for the artwork I post online and I think keeping boundaries online is good. But it’s way too long for Twitter and I’m thanking people who use tumblr in it. But I’ve been self reflecting. Well actually, I’ve been reading the work of Nagata Kabi so it inspired me to write this. This is NOT a negative post btw.

TLDR: if I don’t believe in myself, I gotta believe in the people who believe in me

So. I’m my biggest critic, constantly annoyed at how slow my skills progress, unable to see the good or a single quality in it, basically just posting it the same way you’d hand over a test you clearly failed but at least you tried. Well, today I was scrolling my own blog and scrutinizing my own work. But in between all the work there were all those asks from people who made the step forward to come and express what they think about it. Usually when this happens I brush it off as “oh well, they’re just trying to be nice. I will thank them because I appreciate their kindness in trying to make me feel better”. But if it was the case, they’d probably just leave a like or, they don’t know me so they’d probably just ignore it. I kept reading everyone’s asks inbetween criticizing myself and it made me realize, while criticizing myself is GOOD (it means I see my past mistakes and I’m one step closer to improving), I focus too much on the negative. Some asks were pointing things I never notice about my own work. I think it’s like our own appearance. Many of us will think it’s nothing special but other people will like it. Actually this might be a bad analogy.

I wanted to thank each person (who was off anon so I could directly message them) individually but I’m actually a very shy person and I felt embarrassed like “hey, uhh, yeah that asks you probably don’t remember you sent? I read it 2 months later again and I’d like to thank you again”. I assume replying to old stuff is universally seen as weird by other people. The people might be weirded out. But in case any of you read it (anon or not, know that I am really thankful for everything and it’s thanks to you that I’m having this surge of happiness right now).

This triggered a lot of memories. Back in October, when I was drawing a lot of armored core stuff, I got an email in Japanese. At first I thought it was some google translated bot but, it was actually proper Japanese (if easy to make the difference, even if your level is low). The person was complimenting my armored core stuff and later they actually revealed themselves on twitter. It made my week to know that someone would write such a long email just because they saw what was to me a picture online I just felt “meh” about, saying that they wanted to learn to draw now. (The email was very long, I can’t just dismiss someone writing all that)

Also since I was laid off from my studio job last year, I still received freelance work doing concepts and IU for smaller games (and was even requested to do more work for the previously mentioned studio) and was able to live comfortably thanks to that. But to me it was nothing, like I refused to acknowledge my own achievements. I mean everyone has a job. Why would I congratulate myself? Because you’re doing the job you’ve always dreamed of. Yeah, it’s not a in-house permanent contract, sure I’m not working on AAA, but freelance work is still work and small indie games are often the ones doing unique and interesting things. Plus it’s not the 90’s anymore where you could have a part time job on something that would become a cult classic. The joy I felt the first time I’ve seen my name in the credits roll of a game felt like a victory after a long battle. So yeah.

I still DO need to improve drastically if I want to grow as an artist and get hired on bigger projects and have the career I dream of. (I also need to keep studying for my N2 haha). But I’m happy of what I’ve achieved so far and I’m thankful from the bottom of my heart for the people who voiced themselves to remind me to stop looking at a small detail instead of the bigger picture. We’re all works-In-progress so even if we’ve been shitters so far, doesn’t meant it’s over and we can’t get better. Also I’m conscious I’m lucky enough to have people voicing their feedback, while smaller artists don’t. If anyone has ever complimented your artwork, I would advise to read what they said again.

Also I’ve been contracted to do creature/monster design on a console game starting next week so I’m going to go and beat FF7 Rebirth in 4 days before I’m unable to play it for the rest of the month. 🫡

#this felt therapeutic to write #Kyou.txt #humans are hard to draw - machine and monsters better

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reashot · 7 months

Text

Jaune Phone Call with Papa Arc.

Team JNPR Dorm Room.

Jaune: I'm gonna fail this assignment because my dad won't open up.

Ren: Me and Nora going to fail because our parents were killed because of a Grimm attack.

Pyrrha: Wow I didn't knew that Ren. I'm sorry to hear that. And are you doing Nora's homework?

Nora: Fo'sho. What? You expect me to do my own homework? Please think even less of me.

Ren: Look Jaune, back on topic. A lot of people feel more comfortable talking about personal things when it's not face-to-face.

Nora: Maybe you should try calling your dad.

Jaune: I guess it's worth a shot...

*ring* 🎶

Mistralian Restaurant.

Papa Arc: Hello?

Jaune: H-hey dad. What'chu up to?

Papa Arc: Eating lunch. I just needed a break from work you know. Lately I've been thinking about all the people I've had to kill...

God. The first, five, ten times you take a life it's eerie you remember every detail. I can see all their faces. One had a beard. Each time I pulled the trigger I tied a little knot in my memory no amount of whiskey could loosen...

Nora: *Scoots away from the phone call*

Papa Arc: Of course eventually I stopped caring. Now I can put a bullet through a man's head while figuring out how much VFC to pick up on my way home. It's usually no more than a bucket.

Pyrrha: 😱

Papa Arc: The sick part is I've come to love it. Snuffing out lives. I crave it. I feel like an angel of death, the messenger of eternal darkness, a merciless demon with an unquenchable... Oh! They just put more orange chicken on the Buffett gotta run. *phone ended.

Nora: *Hiding under the bed*

JPR: *Stunned in place*

Back in the Dorm Room

Jaune: I can't turn this in. It's all about my dad killing people.

*someone enters into the room*

Yang: What is this about killing people?

Pyrrha: Hey Yang, it's nothing we're trying to finish our assignment.

Weiss: I already finished mine ages ago. What took you guys so long?

Ren: We're trying to get Jaune's dad to talk about what happened during his time, but so far he's being "uncooperative"...

Blake: How is he being "uncooperative?"

Nora: *shivering* You don't want to know....

Ruby: Oh, maybe I can help you with your dad? 🙂

Jaune: *rub Ruby's head* It's okay Ruby. It's my assignment after all. You don't have to do anything to help me.

Ruby: *purr* 😸 (Oh yeah, that's the stuff... Run my head like you own me. 😚)

Ren: Call your dad again and get him to talk about something else.

*ring* 🎶

Papa Arc: Hello?

Jaune: Hey dad.

Papa Arc: Son, glad you called. I was kind of bumming thinking about your mom.

Jaune: W-what, why?

Yang: (Isn't she the hot one?)

Papa Arc: *sigh* I feel like our lovemaking has lost all its intimacy. We're not attuned to each other's love energy, we're just slamming away...

Jaune: Dad! I'm here with the girls on speakerphone.

Blake: (Don't interrupt him! 😾)

Papa Arc: Hey girls! So, Lovemaking sure can turn into sex without you even noticing it. And why not sex with your mom feels great!

*Team RWBY starts circling in to listen closely.*

Papa Arc: It's easy to think, maybe there is love and then there's the performer in me always trying to get your mom turned on.

Weiss: (Scandalous...)

Papa Arc: I pull her hair, choke her lightly or not so lightly.

Ruby: (I wish Jaune will do that to me one day.🥵)

Jaune: Dad! When you were my age. What was the cost of a loaf of bread.

Papa Arc: The focus becomes how hot she gets. How many times I can make her shudder with pleasure.

RWBY: *giggling*

Jaune: Allright this is enough... *gets tackled to the ground*

Ruby: Don't, disturb your dad! 😠 *gag Jaune's mouth*

Jaune: *muffled scream*

Yang: Dad. What do mom boobs look like?

Papa Arc: I'll tell you Yang they're perfect. Creamy, twins with faint blue veins running over them like cooling streams I can wash my face in it...

Yang: Oh that's hot.... *starts rubbing herself.*

Blake: Hmmph! You never get this hot when you're with me...

Yang: Really? Maybe I should change that then... *long sensual kiss*

So how do you like it my kitty cat?

Blake: ... It's a start. *return kiss*

Ren: Shouldn't we stop this?

Nora: What! No I say we join in and turned it into an orgy.

Ren: Wait, what? *gets mounted by Nora*

Papa Arc: Of course it still wasn't enough for the both of us...

Ruby: So Jaune... Now that everyone are enjoying themselves. Maybe you want to do it with me too? 😊

Jaune: Ruby I...

Pyrrha: You can't! b-because Jaune is mine... *kiss Jaune*

Ruby: *gasp* (How could Pyrrha NTR Jaune away from me? He's mine I saw him first!😫)

Papa Arc: ... And even then we still weren't satisfied. It got so bad your mom decided to bring another woman into our bed to spice things up, as she puts it. Oh, the looks on your mother's face as I plow the other woman in front of her. Turns out your mom likes to look.

Ruby: (Could that be the solution. Me, Jaune and Pyrrha? I mean I do find the both of them to be extremely hot... Ah, who am I kidding. YOLO.) Pyrrha. Can you let me join with you and Jaune? 😇

Pyrrha: Well since you ask nicely...

Jaune: Wait, what do you mean by that? Pyrrha, Ruby why are the two of you looking at me like that??! No, no, no, stay away!!!

Weiss:

(No one wants to be with me 😢)

Papa Arc: And that's why Jaune you probably have another half-sibling running around right now... Oh, you having an Orgy in there? Don't let me stop you, son. But do remember to use protection. Unless you want to have an unexpected surprise like me. But seriously use a condom or I will castrate you... Oops. Gotta go Jaune. My egg fooyong is finally here.

Beacon Academy.

Cardin: ... That's why my Dad walked out of his Dad's funeral & I will walk out of my dad's funeral!

Peter: Great presentation Cardin. Now Jaune you're up. Show me your report on your father.

Jaune: I-I'm sorry, Professor Port but my dad wasn't really willing to answer the questions.

Peter: Nonsense young man. I give you an entire week. What were you even doing all those time?

Ruby: More like what haven't we been doing? 🤭

Pyrrha: *giggle* Stop it Ruby, you going to get us into trouble.

Ruby: I can't help it Pyr. So. Same thing tonight? 😉

Pyrrha: Most definitely, we're not going to let Jaune get any sleep tonight. If you know what I mean.

Peter: Why if I don't know any better, I think you are trying to get out of this assignment?

Jaune: Okay. Is that what you think? Okay professor Port here we go.

*Walks up to the front of the class*

Jaune: *click* Hey dad, I'm calling in front of my history class. So who was the councilman when you were a kid?

Papa Arc: Oh, I don't know but I guess I think about killing myself pretty frequently. And why not. What so great about living? You know when I'm happy? For about five seconds when I first wake up. Before I remember who I am and what my life is about. Anxiety, disappointment, diarrhea more often than not. I don't know if there's an afterlife. But who cares. Nothingness couldn't be worse than my meaningless March through my empty days.

Jaune: You see professor Port... Professor Port?

Peter: He's right, it's pointless, Salem will kill us all... Life Dismissed. *jumps through the window*

Nora: I guess class is over?

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 2 months

Text

I've Got A Crush On You

A WMCJ!Jeremy x Reader Fic

Soundtrack: Crush On You- Lil' Kim

The last thing Jeremy wants to do right now is teach a team of 12-year-olds how to play basketball, but when he finds out that the nephew of his gym crush is on his team and practically a basketball prodigy, he'll do anything to get him as a client, especially if it means getting to spend more time with you.

Word Count:

Warnings: language, some shameless flirting and objectification of women

"Dude, you've gotta get a new car. This shits a piece of junk." Jeremy slammed the door of Kamal's pale blue 1995 Honda Accord, the squeak of the hinges piercing his ear drums. "Man, shut up", Kamal sucked in his teeth at Jeremy as he hopped out of the driver's seat, a puff of black exhaust billowing out behind the car. "This is all 'Ni and I can afford right now, and last time I checked, it got your ass around LA just fine. Not everyone can drive Daddy's Porsche. Oh wait." He clamped a hand sarcastically over his mouth with wide eyes, chuckling at the look of hurt on Jeremy's face.

The brunette was quick to straighten up. "First of all, it wasn't my daddy's Porsche, it was Tatiana's daddy's Porsche", Kamal gave him a lazy roll of his eyes as he threw his gym bag over his shoulder, "and second, we broke up months ago, why do you keep bringing it up?"

"Because you call me at least once a week, tellin' me how much you miss her!" Jeremy quickly closed the distance between him, his face in a scowl, voice just above a whisper. "I told you that in confidence, man."

Kamal matched his tone, "Well, I wish you wouldn't tell me nothing at all." He was there for his friend during his breakup, but what Jeremy considered a "healthy processing of emotions", Kamal called "oversharing".

"Besides, I've moved on." Jeremy puffed out his chest, trying to appear as confident as possible. "I've met someone else."

"Oh right. Ms. Flexible." Kamal teased in a sing-song voice as he rested a forearm on the hood of the car. Jeremy wouldn't shut up about this "baddie" (his words) that he saw at the gym he frequented, and you would think Halle Berry was showing up in spandex every week, the way he talked about her.

"Put some respect on her name, man. It's Y/N. I took-well I snuck into- one of her yoga classes at the gym, and she is-", he let out a whistle in awe, "I left her class feeling so Zen." Jeremy wasn't any more limber than before the class started, but he sure was in love. "So what now, you wanna "align her chakras" or something?" Jeremy quickly got the innuendo with a suggestive raise of Kamal's eyebrows.

Jeremy let out a sigh, shaking his head. "Why do I feel like you don't take the ancient and complex, spiritual practice known as yoga, seriously?" You could insult his taste in women, but you couldn't insult his lifestyle.

"Because I don't." Kamal let out a hearty chuckle, but Jeremy was stone faced, failing to find the humor in his joke. "Come on, man. We're gonna be late."

Kamal didn't enjoy stepping foot in his old high school, the memories from his his fall from grace senior year forever in the front of his mind. The only reason he was spending his Saturday in this gym he used to call his second home, was to honor a promise he made to an old friend.

"So where are these prospects you talked about?" Jeremy set his NPR tote bag down the bleachers, surveying the inhabitants of the gym. "There's nothing but some old guys and some kids here, man."

"About that..." Kamal's breath hitched in his chest. He hadn't been forthcoming with Jeremy about what they were doing today, because he knew there was no way he'd come if he knew the truth.

"Kamal Allen?" Kamal turned to see his high school best friend Chris Williams walking up behind him, a bag of basketballs in his hands. "Chris, what's going on man?", Kamal asked as he pulled him into a hug. "How long has it been?" Kamal knew exactly how many years it'd been. There were times when he wanted to reach out Chris, but didn't out of shame and embarrassment for how he left things.

Chris chuckled, "Five years, I guess. How's Imani and the baby?"

"He's not a baby anymore. Drew just turned four."

"Damn, time really does fly I guess." Their was a painful silence between the old friends, so Jeremy stepped in. "I'm Jeremy. I've actually got my own business", he slipped a business card to Chris, who reluctantly took it, a blank look on his face, "I mold basketball players into the the next NBA star with my patented, well it will be eventually, shooting drills and techniques." He gave Chris his signature smile, the elevator pitch committed to memory. "I'm gonna need that back by the way. I only have the one."

"Okay", Chris handed Jeremy back the business card with a confused look on his face, Kamal silently signaled to ignore him. "Anyways, thanks for coming down today. I know these kids are a little misguided, but with some good coaching, especially from one of the best players in our school's history, they can get on the right track."

That caught Jeremy's interest. "I'm sorry, what did you say about kids?" He looked between Kamal and Chris, waiting for an explanation. "You said we were working with prospects headed for the draft, K."

"We are", Kamal avoided eye contact, "I just didn't say what year the draft was."

"Look, these kids are from some rough neighborhoods around L.A. They come here to feel safe, appreciated, and stay off the streets. I need some help getting them together though, I can't coach them on my own." Kamal gave Jeremy a pleading look but he wasn't budging.

"No! Look, that kid is picking his nose", the trio swung their heads to look around, catching a tall, scrawny boy wiping a booger on his mesh jersey, all three groaning in disgust, "and that kid looks like a newborn giraffe." Another kid was having trouble staying upright while he was trying to dribble the ball. "Besides, kids through off my energy. I can't do this." Jeremy collected his things, taking a quick swig of his green juice before throwing it in the bag. "I'll be in the car."

"He made it a couple of steps towards the door before Chris stopped him. "Did I mention the job pays?"

"Alright, everybody round up." Jeremy took in the group of boys in front of him, and realized there wasn't an ounce of talent between them. "This is Kamal and Jeremy, they're gonna help out the team."

"Help?!" Kamal shot a look at a kid with a high-top fade reminiscent of the 80s, couldn't haven been more than five feet tall. "What's an old man and Bob Ross gonna do for this team?" The team snickered and laughed at the joke.

"Bob Ross? You're lucky I don't believe in confrontation or..." Jeremy warned, a scowl on his face.

"Or what? You'd paint me a pretty landscape?" The kid shot back, and Jeremy forgot he was a peaceful soul for a second.

"Alright, that's enough Isaiah", Chris cut in. "This is Isaiah Thompson, our point guard." Isaiah flexed, earning a chuckle from Kamal and Jeremy. "What's so funny? I average 15 points a game. They call me Swisher, because I always make that net swish", he held up his hand in the follow through position, his teammates cheering for him.

"Well "Swisher", they should call you Swiffer, because y'all get swept every game." Kamal's tone was laced with sarcasm. He didn't like going toe to toe with kids, but he was asking for it.

"That's rich coming from you", the tall nose picker stepped in, "last time I checked, you weren't exactly holding any records lately. My dad went to high school the same time you did, and he said you blew your scholarship and now you deliver packages." Kamal's jaw flexed. Somehow, the story of his misgivings had been passed down through generations. He stepped to the kid in a moment of anger, but Jeremy was quick to hold him back. "He isn't worth it." He whispered, and Kamal composed himself.

"That's enough! Now, Kamal is still a legend at this school, and we're gonna show him some respect." Chris let out a sigh. "If we want to be taken seriously at this year's tournament, we need to buckle down and get back to the fundamentals."

"What about white boy over there?" Isaiah pointed in Jeremy's direction. "You don't need to worry about that white boy", Kamal palmed a basketball as he spoke, "he's one of the best shooters I've seen."

"Not with those shoes", Isaiah snickered. Jeremy looked down and wiggled his toes in his custom barefoot shoes. "What's wrong with my shoes? Studies have shown it's better for your body to connect with the ground."

"Its giving...broke." Another kid chimed in from the back of the group, sending the boys into a roaring laughter.

"The only thing its giving is me upper cutting a little kid today!" Jeremy lunged at the kid, Kamal stepping in with a hard push to his chest, making him stumble back. "Watch out everyone, Bob Ross is angry!" Isaiah teased, bellowing with laughter.

"Remember what you said? He's not worth it." Kamal patted Jeremy's shoulder reassuringly, this time the reasonable one. "I'm good. I'm good." Jeremy said with a hard breath out of his nostrils.

The sound of the gym door screeching as it opened made both of them turned. "Dude, you've gotta be kidding me." Jeremy couldn't help the smile that crept on his face when he noticed who walked in.

You were even prettier than Jeremy remembered, and he'd spent a lot of time the last couple of weeks thinking about you. You were out of your usual matching gym set, instead wearing scrubs, and he almost lost it at the thought that you were a nurse.

"Isn't that-?" Kamal pointed over to you, and Jeremy quickly slapped his hand down. "Yes it is. What the hell is she doing here?"

"She's probably here to provide medical assistance if you keep getting killed by these kid's jokes." Kamal let out a humorous breath as he looked over at Jeremy who was in a trance, tracking your every step as you made your way to the bleachers. "You think so? I'd like to get some CPR from those lips."

Kamal shoved his friend, shaking him out of his daydream. "No man. She doesn't even know you exist. One of these gremlins is probably her kid or something." He tossed the basketball to Jeremy, who caught it without dropping his gaze toward you. "Are you coming, man?"

"Yeah, yeah. One second." Jeremy dropped the ball and waved Kamal away. He didn't know if he was gonna get a second chance to have your undivided attention, so he was gonna take advantage of the moment.

You shot off a text and looked up just as Jeremy approached you, planting one of his feet on the bleachers, and leaning in uncomfortably close to you. He was cute, messy curls, a smile that could be used on a dentistry advertisement. His wardrobe, an old tie dye t-shirt that was ripped at the collar and hem paired with basketball shorts and those weird individual toe shoes, was a bit off putting, but you had to admire him being true to his own style.

"Sorry, this is a closed practice", Jeremy said with a smirk. "Oh, sorry! I had no idea", you uttered, quickly collecting your things. "I'm just kidding", Jeremy grabbed your arm gently to stop you from walking away. You glanced down at his hand, making him retract it. "I'm Jeremy. I've taken your yoga class over at Hurston, I'm a big fan." He extended a hand out to you, which you took hesitantly.

"Y/N. I didn't know I had fans", your brow knitted together with a smile, "thank you, I guess?" Jeremy chuckled as you tipped your head to the side. "Yeah, I've never seen anyone hold Warrior II like you do." God, he was rusty as hell at flirting after being with Tatiana so long. He could physically feel the charisma draining from his body. "So are you here waiting for your boyfriend or something?" Jeremy knocked his head back in the direction of some senior citizens going through the motions of a Tai Chi class in the corner.

"Oh no", you grimaced, "hell no, uh I usually pick my nephew up from practice, and I got off of work early, so I thought I'd save myself the drive to Inglewood and just wait until he's finished. He's the shy one over in the corner, Mattias." Jeremy noticed the kid with tight curls atop his head dribbling the ball through his legs. He was honestly impressed with his handling skills.

" Are you one of the coaches?" You noticed the basketball that Jeremy was nervously tossing between his hands as you talked.

"Yeah, you know kids are really my passion. Anything to help", Jeremy was lying through his teeth, but you didn't need to know that. "Children are the future, you know?"

You spent the next 15 minutes talking with Jeremy, and you could admit that he was as funny as he was cute. There was something undeniably charming about him, and the way he spoke so passionately about his business, even if it was a gimmicky juicing endeavor, was endearing.

"Hey, Richard Simmons", Isaiah yelled from across the court, "if you're done bombing over there, we need another person for 5 on 5!" Jeremy cursed under his breath with a roll of his eyes, before turning back to you with a smile. "I'd really love to talk more, but duty calls."

"Yeah, go, go, I understand." You said with a giggle as he jumped off the bleachers and jogged to back to the team. "How the hell does he even know who Richard Simmons is?", Jeremy mumbled under his breath.

To say that the team needed work would be an understatement. Most of the players couldn't even catch the ball without jamming a finger or getting the wind knocked out of them, and dribbling without a travel call was a pipe dream at this point. They could count on one hand the number of shots that made it into the basket during layups. The only player with a little bit of natural talent was Mattias. In fact, he could probably play on JV at his age, and both Kamal and Jeremy noticed how flawless his shot was.

"Are you seeing this?", Kamal whispered to Jeremy, who nodded without needing any other context. "He's good. For 12, he's great. He's Y/N's nephew." Jeremy looked back at you. You were intently watching the team play, and gave Jeremy a small wave, feeling your stomach flip as he returned one back to you. "What's up with that?" Even Kamal could tell there was a spark between the two of you. "All I know man, is when I look at her, my stomach drops into my ass." Jeremy's voice cracked as he spoke.

"Is that a good thing?", Kamal asked with a slightly disgusted face. Jeremy looked just as confused as he did. "I don't know man. I don't know." They both jumped as Chris blew the whistle, the sound echoing through the gym. "Let's get one more scrimmage in before we go home."

"Mattias, take point." Kamal tossed the timid kid the ball, but he caught it with ease. "I'm point guard." Isaiah complained, "Matti's too scared to even shoot the ball."

"No I'm not!", Matti threw back with a frown on his face. "Yes you are. Last game you choked, we could've won!" Isaiah was ever the instigator. "Y'all lost that game by 20." Kamal retorted, waving the paper schedule he had in his hand in the air.

"Yeah, but we could have lost by 18 instead."

Kamal sighed. "It doesn't matter, I'm the coach, and I say Mattias is running point. Now run the play." It ran more like a traffic jam than the play Kamal drew up for them to run, and it was only a matter of seconds before one of the kids missed the pass and the ball went flying into the bleachers.

"Mattias, you need to look where you're passing. Make sure you make eye contact with your teammate before you pass." Kamal ran through the motions before passing the ball back. "Jer, get on the wing." When he didn't move, Kamal looked over to see that Jeremy was practically drooling over you from afar, his back completely turned away from the basket. "Jeremy!"

Hearing his name called a second time caught his attention. "Sorry, man. She's just so beautiful."

"Man, get on the wing", Kamal growled. Jeremy jogged over his spot, but he couldn't take his eyes off you. He wondered what you smelled like, what kind of perfume you wore, what you dreamt about at night. He felt the ball whoosh past his head, but it couldn't tear his attention away from you.

He was so zoned in on you, in fact, he didn't realize the next basketball pass hit him so hard in the head, it knocked him out cold, his body falling to the ground.

"Jeremy. Jeremy, can you hear me?"

Jeremy's eyelashes fluttered rapidly as he came to, and while he couldn't see clearly, he could make out blurry figures hovering over him, muffled voices coming in and out. The first voice to come in clearly was a woman's voice.

"Jeremy, if you can here me, please squeeze my hand." The voice was soft and sweet, like something out of one of his dreams. He gently squeezed the silky soft hand in his grasp, allowing his eyelids to slowly open. "Is this heaven?" He could make out your soft silhouette as the lights got brighter around his head.

You let out a quiet giggle as you moved out of the way so Kamal could check on his friend. When Jeremy's vision was fully returned, he groaned at the sight of Kamal's face in front of his. "No man, this is Compton, not Heaven." He helped Jeremy sit up, and you handed him an ice pack for the ever growing bump on his temple.

"Are you okay?", you gave him a sympathetic smile with a pat on the shoulder. You could tell he was embarrassed, his cheeks and neck a bright pink.

"You should have seen it, the ball hit you in the head, and you went flying. Knocked out cold!", Isaiah exclaimed with a laugh.

"Shut up", Jeremy mumbled, letting out a groan as the pain from the impact finally hit him; his face felt like one giant oncoming bruise. You pulled out the pen light you had in your scrub pocket. "Can you follow the light for me?" Jeremy squinted as you shined the bright light in his eyes but his pupils were receptive. "Well, I don't think you have a concussion, but you should definitely take it easy for the next couple of days."

"Thanks, I'm glad you were here." Jeremy gave you a small smile. "Sorry you had to come to my rescue."

"Don't worry, it comes with the territory." You showed him your nursing badge that was still clipped to your collar. "Here, hand me your phone." Jeremy pulled his phone out of his bag and handed it to you. You put your phone number in his contacts. "Call me if any of your symptoms get worse, and if you start to smell toast, call an ambulance." You gave him one last smile before heading out of the gym with Mattias.

"Wait, so you get a ball to the head, and you still managed to get Ms. Flexible's number?" Kamal playfully shoved Jeremy in the arm. "She gave it to me for emergencies, not to ask her out on a date." Jeremy wanted nothing more then to go on a date with you, but he didn't want to exploit your kindness either.

"Trust me man, I saw you drooling over her. This is definitely an emergency."

That night, Jeremy wore a path in his carpet pacing back and forth in his apartment. He was trying anything to calm his nerves: herbal tea, meditation, even Ashwaganda, but that just made him horny and made it more difficult to hold off on calling you. Kamal wasn't any help either, edging him on as they drove back to their side of town.

He stared at your number in his phone contacts for so long, he had them committed to memory. Maybe he could just pretend that his symptoms had gotten worse. Yeah, maybe he did have a concussion, and while he was sure you'd advise him to go to the doctor, it would at least give him an in.

Fuck it, he was gonna call you.

The phone rang four times before you picked up, the sound of the TV in the background.

"Hello?"

Jeremy cleared his throat, feeling it go dry. The first word came out in a croak. "Hello, this is Jeremy. From earlier today. You know the one that got hit with the basketball?"

You stifled a laugh as you straightened up on your couch. "Jeremy, yeah. Are you okay? How's your head?" You'd been thinking about him all day, hoping that you'd get to see him again, but you honestly weren't expecting to hear from him that night.

"Its okay. Still a little dizzy when I stand up too quickly, but I took your advice and I've been taking it easy. I actually made one of my recovery smoothies tonight, and I can swear its helping." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, waiting for you to speak.

"That's good, I'm glad you're doing okay." You allowed a pause, not really sure what he wanted. "Is there something else you wanted to talk about?"

It was now or never. You were the first person after Tatiana that he actually saw as more as a rebound hookup. He wanted to do this right.

"Actually, I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner tomorrow?" He immediately began to panic as soon as the words came out of his mouth. "I've know this vegan restaurant that has farm to table ingredients." He slapped a hand to his forehead in embarrassment. Good job, Jeremy. If she didn't think you were a weirdo before, he definitely did now.

He perked up as you began to speak. "That actually sounds really nice. I would love to go to dinner with you, Jeremy."

"One second." Jeremy punched the mute button so you wouldn't hear him run around his apartment in excitement, punching the air. He plopped back down on his couch, taking a second to compose himself and catch his breath before he pressed unmute. "Sounds good. 8'o'clock?"

"That's perfect. See you tomorrow."

Jeremy hung up his phone, and placed it on the coffee table as reality started to set in. This was the first date he was going on in five years. He really needed it to go well.

He needed it to go fuckin' perfect.

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@exoticr0ses

@iknowdatsrightbih

@itsyagirljaz

@hoodharlow

@bobthe-turmpetman29

@wittyjasontodd

@purecinnamonextract

@fluidsentiment

@jacksuberdriver

#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jackharlow #jackman harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic

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vvagustd · 10 months

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live - seonghwa

[seonghwa x reader]

genre! - angst, fluff at the end, hurt/comfort

synopsis! - Y/n continuously gets picked on by her family, even at a family gathering to let her parents meet her boyfriend

warning! - swearing, references to body (y/n is neither thick or thin she is how you imagine her, the mom is just a jealous almond mom dw), familial issues

first time writing seonghwa! let me know if you like this and want more ateez link to request page

"Y/n, are you alright?"

Seonghwa looked up from cleaning his glasses as your hands shook in the mirror. You tried to wipe away any imperfections in your makeup and cover up and with foundation. You already knew your sister was going to upstage anything you did without fail, she's been flawless all your life. You finally felt secure enough to let Seonghwa meet your family, and your mom informed you a few days prior your siblings would be joining.

Great.

"Yeah, I'm alright," you finished evening out your makeup and checked the time. "We gotta go soon.“ You gulped down the rest of your water to try and calm your racing heartbeat. Seonghwa wrapped his arms around the your waist and buried his head into your neck. "You look beautiful, love. You always do." You smiled and turned your head to kiss him. No matter how bad you felt, Seonghwa was always there to show you your worth. "Everything is going to be fine! You're family is gonna be great. Now let's get rolling." He smiled and grabbed your bag, placing a kiss on your cheek.

You smiled back weakly, but in truth, Seonghwa knew nothing about what your family was really like. That's why you were so hesitant about this dinner, but you knew the more you cancelled the less they believed he was real, that's just how much they doubted someone could actually like you.

You drove in almost complete silence with Seonghwa's hand on your thigh, running his thumb up and down as you rested your head in your hand. "I'm really excited to meet your parents, Y/n." You sighed and placed your hand in top of his. "I know you are." You glanced over at him and he was practically beaming. You prayed on his behalf that your family grew up.

Seonghwa pulled into the driveway of your childhood home and got out of the car. You sat and watched the light glimmer in the bay windows, the same windows that held so many of your emotions and memories. You got out of the car and held Seonghwa's hand as you walked up the front steps to the door. You already took note of your brother watching through the window so you figured he yelled to your mom that you were there.

"Shut your mouth!" You heard your mother yell behind the door, presumably to your father. Knowing him he was probably yelling over whatever sport was on, and your sister was probably fixing her appearance. Your mother swung the door open in one giant gesture with her arms spread, her signature smile painting her face. She quickly ushered you in and greeted Seonghwa.

"Hello, dear! It's so great to finally meet you." She wrapped her arms around him and he smiled, hugging her back. "Hi, mama." You said, stepping out from behind Seonghwa. She dismissed you with a smile and quickly rushed Seonghwa into the living room to meet your father. When you stepped into the room your father stood up, clearing his throat, and held out his hand. Seonghwa gently shook his hand with a slight bow and smilied. "It's nice to meet you, sir."

"Likewise." Your father nodded before turning back to the game. There was a small, awkward silence before your mother clapped her hands and turned to you. "Y/n, dear, my don't we leave the men to talk." Your grip tightened on Seonghwa's hand. He smiled down at you reassuringly and squeezed you hand. It's not like you were scared to be left alone with your mother, you just didn't want to leave Seonghwa, especially when he's with your dad. You let go of his hand and followed your mother into the kitchen, where your sister was sitting at the table on her phone.

"Oh my goodness, Y/n!!" Your sister let out an ear splitting screech. "It's been so long!" She wrapped her arms around you and made a big show of smelling you. "Gosh Y/n, where'd you get that perfume? You smell cheap." She twisted her face in disgust, when you knew for a fact you didn't smell bad. It was a pretty pricey perfume but nothing special, and one of your favorite sweet and flowery scents. Her face of disgust slowly turned into a half wicked grin and half smile. "Aww!" She took your face into her hands and studied you, you could feel her eyes studying your makeup. "Looks like someone tried!" She laughed and rather roughly let go of your face. Maybe it's because you haven't been doing makeup since you were old enough to talk to, or in her case, touch boys. You could feel tears already pricking your eyes, but you were prepared for this. You've dealed with this all of your life, your sister disguising her harsh worse through a sugar sweet tone was nothing compared to anything you've had to deal with for the first 18 years of your life.

Your brother had finally come down from his room and you all sat around the table while your mom got out all the food. "It smells great!" Seonghwa said as your mom brought out the meat. "Thank you, honey! I usually don't try this hard, but we have a special guest." Your father and brother were already shoving their food down their throats, not one word had even come out of your brother's mouth yet. You stood up from your seat to get some food when your mom stopped you and held her hand out in front of you for your plate. "What..?" She grabbed the plate from my hand and started filling it with childlike portions. "You're gaining a little weight sweetie, I just thought I should help you out." Worry crossed Seonghwa's face as your mother placed the food infront of you, your head hanging low. Seonghwa placed his hand on yours and shook his head, frowning. He have your hand a light squeeze before shooting a half, ingenuine, smile to your mother.

"So," your father cleared his throat, "you're a very good looking man. Well put together. What are you doing with Y/n?" The whole table laughed at his joke, but Seonghwa didn't seem to find it very funny. "She's a very beautiful and genuine person, what she feels is what she shows and I admire that." Your sister gave Seonghwa a look, eyeing him up and down. "How sweet." She deadpanned. Your father, under no popular demand, opened his mouth again. "And you, Y/n? How's your 'job' going."

"Well, thanks for asking," you spoke through gritted teeth. "Two of my art pieces sold at the exhibition for almost 26,000 dollars." Your father almost choked on his food. "Really? I would have never thought someone would spend money on something like that."

"You'd be surprised."

"What about you, Seonghwa? What do you do?" Your mother spoke. "Oh, I'm a surgeon," he said. "But I also dabble in the art business." Your sister's face lit up. "Surgeon, huh? You must make sooo much money." She spoke, dragging out almost all of her words and twisting hair around her finger. Seonghwa caught on to her gaze and quickly looked away. "I make enough." He said, growing increasingly uncomfortable with your sister's lustful gaze.

"Well my son here, he's a very successful man. He's going to take over the business someday. We're very proud of him." Your father boasted. For some reason, this is what broke you. "What business, dad? It's a fucking convenience store, not to mention he's a deadbeat loser that isn't gonna take over shit. How about you be proud of me for once? I work two fucking jobs, and still find time to paint." Your mother sighed and rolled her eyes. "Great, another one of her little outbursts." You laughed.

"Don't you fucking even, mom. All you've done since I've got here is brush me off and shame me, probably because your sad with your own miserable life because your old and dad isn't attracted to you anymore." That shut her up quickly. "And would you PLEASE stop eye-fucking my boyfriend." You called out you sister, who grew a sour look on her face. Your father slammed his fist down. "Enough, Y/n. You will sit down and eat, right now, you are being incredibly disrespectful." You balled up your fists as tears started to spill from your eyes. You had held it in for so long but now hot tears ran down your cheeks in pure anger. How could he call you disrespectful? For 18 years all he did was disrespect you, and the one time you finally have enough and snap, you get ridiculed.

"I don't think she will." You looked over to Seonghwa, who stood up from his chair. "Since she's gotten here all you've done is give her shit. I can't even imagine what she's had to endure growing up. So, either you will listen to what she has to say or you will shut up." The pure look of shock and disgust on your father's face was so satisfying. "Where is this coming from, young man?"

"It's coming from me not appreciating you treating my very beautiful, talented and lovely girlfriend like shit. If anyone should be treated like that, it's you." Seonghwa grabbed your father our of his chair and held him by his collar. "Now apologize."

"I-I'm sorry, Y/n. Please!" Your father stuttered out, rubbing his hands together, pleading. You didn't think he would give in this easily, but Seonghwa practically towered over him.

"I don't think I can forgive you right now, or any of you." You spoke softly. The tears were starting to fill your eyes again as Seonghwa grabbed your hand. "We're leaving."

When you got to the car, Seonghwa held you close as you cried into him. It took a lot of courage and bottled up anger to finally blow up at your family, and Seonghwa knew that. Right now, his only worries were being there for you.

"I'm so sorry, baby. They're shitty people who don't see you the way they should. The way I see you. You're more beautiful than you could ever think, you're so talented and I'm so, so proud of you. I love you so much." He kissed the top of your head and held you as your cries slowly turned into sniffles.

"I love you so much."

link to request page

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atarathegreat · 10 months

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Keigo Takami-Nesting

She loved him, the stupid girl. He just had some type of hold on her that she couldn't resist. Y/n had known it since she was a teen. At first, she thought it was a stupid crush until she found herself researching multiple birds and their many unique habits. Y/n only accepted that she was completely gone when she began finding little objects for his attention. Trinkets and such, anything she could get her hands on that would make his feathers puff up in excitement.

Y/n would never forget the day she walked through his open door. Keigo had been huddled in the corner of a filthy living room. The child was immediately drawn to his bright vermillion wings, the way he tried to hide behind them was strange and concerning for her. She kicked and climbed over the trash, sitting next to the boy and complaining about the cold. Keigo hesitantly moved to share his thin blanket and wings with her, he understood that the cold wasn't preferred. They kept him very warm while he was alone and Y/n was shivering and purple, maybe the heat of two people would be better than one. However, two kids left alone in a house drew the attention of authorities and the severely corrupted hero commission.

A memory forever etched in her brain was when Keigo fought his agency, that's when she truly fell for him. He fought for weeks to keep her from going into foster homes. Y/n needed him just as much as he needed her, and that made the commission cave in quickly and they paid for her to stay with him until Keigo became a pro. It wasn't just legally he fought for her, she'd seen how ruffled his feathers got when the commission tried to physically remove her from the building.

Keigo kept them together all the years they'd known each other, it was him that kept her spirits high when she couldn't see anything good in the world. Because, unlike the winged hero, Y/n wasn't outgoing and loud, though she never bothered to hide her emotions. She reminded everyone who saw her of a mouse, fine and healthy but frozen by incredibly new things.

"You should have more confidence in yourself!" Keigo always told her, pushing her cheeks together so her lips jutted out, "You're amazing! You just gotta see it in yourself!"

Y/n knew she would stick by the winged hero until she died, even when he was with a new woman every week. It killed her that she loved him, but he had no way of knowing. She hated the way her lungs would lock up when another woman introduced herself, or the way her tears soaked her shirt after said woman would go into Keigo's room with him. She always knew what was happening, from the sound of the door locking to the failed attempts to stay silent from the women. And he wouldn't know. Not until she screamed at the top of her lungs. Her anger was ignited by the commissions' stupid hero bullshit. Y/n was at her limit.

Keigo had come home early, strange for the man who was all over the place. Y/n hurried to help him with whatever he needed, mainly worried about injuries. Keigo made it a habit to avoid hospitals. "I'm fine, chickadee, just got my day cut short is all." Keigo laughed as the girl checked him over for cuts or bruises. She huffed, taking his jacket and scolding him for dragging mud in.

"Why the cut off?" Y/n asked, moving to sit with him on the couch, "You never agree to short days…"

The hero groaned, leaning closer to the woman and whispering, "The commission wants me to go undercover with the League of Villains."

Before she could even stop herself she whined in protest, covering her mouth just as quickly. Keigo chuckled, he thought she was adorable, "Me, too, actually. But, we both know I don't have any other choice. Sorry, kid."

Butterflies went off in her stomach every time he called her silly little names, she knew her face was beet red. Y/n couldn't help but love the birdbrain and the way he made her feel without even trying. Unbeknownst to anyone, Keigo loved her as well. He just couldn't bring himself to take away the adorable and innocent nature of his friend. As Hawks he could be flirty with her all day, he didn't have to hide anything. As Keigo he had to worry and keep her at a distance, not only were his fans a problem, but he feared that Y/n would be severely affected by his personas constantly changing. It even gave him mixed signals sometimes.

"Stay here with me, fuck the commission." She whispered, she'd never cussed before, it felt foreign to them both, "We can watch movies, play board games, and fall asleep on our couch. You'll come home late and I'll make dinner before you shower and go to bed. Nothing has to change."

Keigo sighed, moving to lean opposite of her, "I can't do that, kid, as much as I wish I could."

Y/n grew angry. Years of frustration, at Keigo and the commission, the girls he brought home… She kicked the coffee table over, raising her voice.

The argument lasted for a while. Keigo was trying to defend his job as a hero while she kept herself away from his personal life. It was hard for her, having everything pent up. Screaming it all out was like an anvil was slowly being pulled off her chest. She didn't care about the way Keigo kept his voice steady in an attempt to deescalate the fight or the way his feathers puffed up in anger, she wanted him to know all of her aggravations.

"And don't even get me started on your behavior when you aren't being a hero!" She blurted, rolling her eyes as he tried to replace the items on the table.

He stood to his full height, pulling his wings in as much as he could, "When am I not being a hero?"

Y/n knew he was daring her to speak, she never missed the way his pupils narrowed in anger, "When you're too busy banging random women in the next room over! Do you know how much that hurts me! I love you, and yet I have to listen to you get it every weekend!"

They both froze, Y/n covering her mouth. The tension in the air disappeared and all the anger was gone. She hadn't meant to shout that, let alone say it at all. It wasn't something he was supposed to hear.

"Sorry…" Was all she managed as she ran to the privacy of her room.

Of course, the hero didn't miss a single word that she had stabbed at him. If anything Keigo clung to her voice in his mind, her volume was shocking to him the most. And the pissed-off way she told him that she loved him. Keigo wanted her to yell more, wanted her to be angry again so he could see that fire in her eyes. He glanced around their little apartment. Y/n had picked out the tan wallpaper, he'd never gotten bored of it for that reason alone. The decorations were all her, too, though Hawks had paid for it all. He never cared how much she spent, he called it his way of giving her trinkets without anyone knowing. Confusion bloomed in his brain as he traced the shelf of things she'd gotten him; little rocks, shiny objects, and items she'd made while fidgeting in public. Keigo had always thought it was sweet that she dedicated a whole shelf for her gifts to him. A slight chuckle made Keigo close his eyes. Y/n'd been doing just as a bird would, giving him little things and making a nest to show her love. How had he never noticed? Had she even wanted him to know? He guessed no since she ran off after the argument.

Keigo slammed his head against the wall, she's been making our home, our nest, and I've brought other birds in. He nearly punched himself for being so stupid. For hurting her to that extent.

"Y/n?" He called through her door, knocking gently before opening it. His heart clenched when her noticed her form under the blankets, "Chickadee?"

Her sniffles came out in mock laughter, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

Keigo sighed, getting comfortable next to her under the heavy sheets, "You're more like a bird than I ever thought, y'know?"

Y/n groaned, hiding her reddened face, making Keigo chuckle and pull her back to him, "I'm sorry for bringing them onto our nest, I should've noticed it sooner than your breaking point."

To his delight she turned and curled into him, wiping her nose on his shirt in her own little defiant way, "You have to work for that forgiveness, Keigo Takami."

"Yes, ma'am, I'll start with dinner?" Keigo smirked, "How about some sushi and dango?"

Her smile was enough to send his heart into overdrive as she all but kicked him from the bed. Dango was her favorite and Keigo wasn't above using that to his advantage if it meant she smile

I'll just work extra hard so she doesn't change. Keigo thought as he helped her into his hoodie, appreciating her giddy demeanor, I've fought this far, right? What's the rest of my life, as long as she's there.

#hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #x reader #x you #female reader

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bangsinc · 11 months

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🖤 Dot by Dot, Heart to Heart - Chapter One ⚪️

Hi everyone! So, this is my first fanfic. Ever, lol. I mean ever that I was confident enough to post. Credit to @trenchcoatbees for the wonderful idea! And thank you to @indago-snake for tagging me! So, this is going to be run by chapters, and I might upload it on Ao3. cool, right? Just gotta wait.

Enjoy! I hope the read more thing works

The Brooklyn streets came alive with the vibrant rhythm of the city, each step echoing with the pulse of a thousand stories aching to be told. Many stories had finished long ago, but not this one. His pace is quickened as he adjusts the misshapen, rather unfashionable hat atop his head.

A man walks through an empty alleyway in Brooklyn, a worn-down trenchcoat clinging to his misshapen figure. He was a man of many talents, but little features, the only discernible thing about him was the holes that lined his body, which was covered by blank, canvas like skin. He walks with no purpose, although he used to. He’s not the same man, not anymore at least. And nobody remembered who he once was.. not a soul who wandered the crooked, ever-changing streets of New York City cared to learn what happened to Dr. Jonathan Ohnn..

No.. not Jonathan Ohnn.

The spot.

He’d given that name up long ago, back when he had lost everything.

He walks the streets mindlessly, hoping to come across something that might help his dilemma. A man with a power he can’t even comprehend correctly, no friends, no family, no job.. not anymore. What was once everything he knew was nothing but an unfinished story, one that ended too early.

Spot steps on something, his foot quickly dragging away from it onto the pavement. He looks down, his orifice squinting to get a better view. The figure on this paper was oddly.. familiar. Perhaps it was something that could help him, although highly unlikely. He gave up looking for things such as that.

Things that.. who.. who is this?

He picks up the paper curiously, his opposing hand brushing the dust and attempting to straighten it to its former integrity. He wasn’t sure why this called to him so much.. it, it echoed to him almost. Like a distant memory, an old friend who was calling to him. A warm feeling he wished for, a feeling he hadn’t felt since the collider.. had..

Those who pass by might only see a man who’d found something of no interest. They pass with no curiosity or solicitousness, getting on with their lives as they always had. But The spot stayed there, his grip on the paper softening. It was a photo, more specifically of him. He’d know it from anywhere, from the idiotic, carefree smile he had to the hooked nose and unkempt hair. His fingers trace upon what once was, a tinge of envy settling in his new form.

But that wasn’t what truly had caught the enigmas attention. No, it was the words below his old photo. ‘MISSING’ was written in big, bold letters. The red font had faded with age, some of the text failing to be read, but he could understand the greater picture of the narritave, and it’s that someone was truly looking for him. Someone, out there, in the big bustling city of New York, missed him.

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silassinclair · 1 year

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Uh Oh! It’s Magic!

[Billy H x Fem!Reader]

Summary: Billy and his friend Tommy are on a double date. Tommy with Carol and Billy taking out one of Carol’s annoying friends Brandy. They all decided to go to a roller skating rink but when there Billy is hypnotized by a roller skater completely in her element. But she isn’t quite what she seems?

Moving to Hawkins was probably one of the dumbest fucking things that Neil has ever done. I don't know why he chose to move to this hick town but there is no stopping that insufferable piece of shit when he makes a decision. The house where he, I, Max, and Susan live is small as shit. Whenever I can I am out of the house as much as possible.

This very moment I'm arm in arm with some blonde chick named Brandy. Her and I are following Tommy H and his girlfriend Carol into the entrance of Rink-O-Mania, one of the only places in Hawkins that isn't dull and lame. Honestly I don't want to be here, I hate dates, I just want to screw Brady and leave. But it's an excuse to be out of the house so I'll take it.

"Billy I don't know how to skate, can you hold my hand when we're in there?" The dumb bitch clinging to me says looking up at me with doe eyes. Why the fuck would her and Carol want to go skating if she doesn't even know how to? Probably wants an excuse to touch me with her grimy ass hands.

The white eyeliner on her bottom lid fails to make her eyes larger, she looks like a desperate clown instead. But she has a nice bod so I'll have to put up with her shit if I want a BJ.

Putting on my signature smirk I pull her in close, "Sure thing hot stuff. I roller skated all the time in Cali so I'll help you out."

That wasn't a lie. When I was younger if I wasn't surfing I was roller skating with my Mom when the weather got bad. Some of the only enjoyable memories I have honestly.

"Hurry up lovebirds we gotta pay for our skates." Tommy says when he and Carol approach the counter. The skating rink is lit up by neon lights and It's Magic by The Cars is playing over the surrounding speakers. Not many people are here except for some kids with their folks and some teenage girls.

"Billy" Brandy says, "Help me tie my skates." She pleads with a small pout. I hide my eyeroll as I kneel down and tie her skates. Once hers are on she nearly stumbles to the floor when we're literally on carpet.

Stupid bitch.

"Woah woah," I say and hold my arms out for her, "Wouldn't want to fall yet, we're not even on the rink yet."

The girl blushes and waits for me as I tie my skates on. Once on I take her hand and help roll her to the round wood rink. Looking out at the rest of the people I see someone zoom by in my peripheral vision. Scanning the floor I see a girl. Blue bell bottom jeans, a jersey styled crop top, dangly earrings, and pristine white skates. As the music plays her body moves to the rhythm as she glides on the floor as if she were walking on water. Her flowing h/c hair frames her focused yet relaxed face.

She’s absolutely breath taking.

"Oh Billy I don't think I can do this." Brandy says next to me. "What if I fall?"

Having enough of Brandy's pick-me bullshit I turn to her with a deadpan expression.

"Then fall bitch. Now get-"

I pull myself from her acrylic nailed grip

"-off of me. You're dumb and annoying as shit. Now screw off." I skate away from her leaving her standing crookedly by the entrance to the wooden floor. Tears fall from her face and her mascara follows the flow of her pathetic tears.

Oh fucking well, boo-hoo, I have my eyes on something else now. She was annoying anyways.

"Hargrove!" Tommy calls to me, Carol holding his hand as the two skate to me from where they once were out on the rink.

"What gives man? Why's Brandy prying her skates off and crying?" He asks.

"She was annoying as shit so thanks a lot for making me take her out." I turn to Carol and say disgustingly. Carol looks down embarrassed.

"Well now you don't have a date idiot." Tommy says with an eyeroll, but I grin.

"We'll see about that." And I look to see the girl again. She's low to the rink and doing a complex skate trick to the tune of the music. Her right leg bent beneath her bottom and the other stuck out long like a half squat.

Following my eyes Tommy sees who I'm looking at.

"Oh no chance in hell dude. She's way too pretty for your whore-ass." Tommy says and punches my shoulder. But I punch him back harder causing him to whine and rub his arm.

"We'll see."

The song comes to an end and the mystery girl skates to the exit where I’m leaning on the half wall.

“You’re pretty good out there gorgeous.” I say showing my pearly white teeth, aka my secret weapons.

She turns to me with a small smile. “Thanks. I haven’t seen you skate yet.”

I chuckle lowly and roll my eyes, then explain to her about my date and how she only wanted to use me as popularity gain and for my body.

As if I didnt want to use her but still- Not that that a matters.

“Brandy McMay. She doesn’t even know her left from right.” The girl said and I laughed with her to her joke. She was 100% right.

“The name’s Billy, Billy Hargrove.” I hold my hand out for her to shake, she gingerly accepts.

“Yeah I know.”

“Well how come I haven’t seen you around at school? I would never fail to notice someone as gorgeous as you in the halls of Hick-Hawkins High.”

She blushes and crosses her arms over her exposed tummy. “I don’t really dress like this in school. Not after being made fun of by girls like Brandy. So I only express myself here at the rink.”

Poor thing. My hand goes up to brush her hair out or her face without thinking.

“Don’t listen to them sweetheart, you’re an absolute doll. A total talent if you ask me. Don’t listen to those chicks, they’re just jealous of you.”

What the fuck am I saying? Jesus Christ, this is what happens when I talk with my heart instead of my mind and dick I guess. I should do this more often.

Her eyes lock to the floor. “T-Thanks Billy… Also I’m Y/n by the way. We have Chem and World History together. I sit at the all the way back in both those classes though.”

I smile and lean in closer to bask in her scent. Smells like sweet candy with a hint of honey. What a doll.

“Well I’ll keep an eye out for you. Say, how about we hit the rink together? You and me since my date ran off?”

Before she answers she checks her wrist watch. “Sorry Billy but I have to head home before the streetlights turn on or else my brother will be pissed. But I’ll see you in school okay!”

I hide my disappointment behind a smile. “Alright, I’ll see you Monday.”

Before she leaves she pulls me into a gentle hug which I don’t have time to reciprocate before she skates off with a small wave.

Oh my god I think I just fell in love. No I just met her… That’d be weird, right?

Monday…

It’s the second class of the day, World History. I changed my seat so now I’m in the back row. I took some nerd’s seat but he didn’t have the balls to tell me it was his seat so he sat in my old one towards the middle left. The seat next to my new one is empty, and I assume that’s where Y/n sits.

This is probably the first time I’ve come to class on time. And for a girl? Let alone one I met yesterday? God I’m embarrassing.

Seconds before the bell rings a girl stumbles into the room with a heavy backpack. Her puffy sage green coat, long brown frilly skirt that goes down to her ankles, and dirty white converse. Her hood hides some of her h/c hair but her bangs peek through the front. Big round glasses adorn her face and a black scarf is wrapped snuggly around her neck hiding part of her chin.

What a basket case.

Before the teacher notices the girl comes to the back and sits next to me.

“Hey Billy.” She whispers to me and pulls her hood and scarf down. Her hair is messier than how it was done up in Saturday and glasses sit on her button nose.

This is Y/n? Holy shit.

“Y/n? I didn’t even recognize you.” I say and turn to her completely. She giggles and takes her jacket off revealing a snug grey sweater.

“Yeah I can see why, I look like that girl from The Breakfast Club huh?”

I nod with my mouth slightly parted. I myself aren’t really into the basketcase type chicks. Not so into the baggy clothes that hide their bodies. But with Y/n, god it just makes me curious. I’ve seen her rockin bod in that crop top and jeans that framed her ass oh so well. The fact that only I got to see it too gives me a new sense of pride. It’s like my own little secret.

“I probably look silly to you now huh? Not so confident as you thought.” She said lowly when she realized I haven’t said anything like the idiot I am.

I reassure her immediately, “No no sweetheart not at all. I’m just admiring how adorable you are is all…” I mumble the last bit more to myself but Y/n heard it loud and clear, her blush says so.

“Oh shut up.” She fires back quietly like a kicked puppy.

I grin and hold her hand that was atop her desk. She freezes but relaxes in my hold.

“How about I take you on a date? Maybe we could go skating?” I shoot my shot hoping she’ll say yes. Why was I even nervous she’d say no? Girls always say yes to me.

But with Y/n… It’s different. Maybe it’s because I don’t only want sex with her? God I’m going soft, but I don’t dislike it.

“Sure.” She sends me a warm smile and holds my hand back in her smaller hold. “Are you sure you want to go skating though? I’d probably leave you in the dust Billy.”

I smirk at her snark remark.

“Oh baby you haven’t even seen me skate yet, don’t let that hidden confidence get to that pretty little head of yours.”

Just then the teacher walked in meaning we couldn’t talk anymore, but that didn’t mean that Y/n and I would stop holding hands. My thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her soft hand. Every minute or so she’d look at me with a cute smile.

My leg shook not with anxiety but rather excitement. This school day couldn’t go by any slower could it?

The final bell rang and I walked Y/n out to my car. Max came by but I told her to skate home much to her disappointment, oh well shitbird, I have a hot date.

“Hey wait!” Y/n called to Maxine before she skated away. My stepsister paused and turned to my date in confusion.

“I didn’t mean to take your spot, I’ll get in the back,” Y/n then turned to me, “Cmon Billy take her home would you? The ground is wet from rain and it’ll ruin her skateboard trucks.”

Maxine perked up at the fact that Y/n even knew what trucks were. So she skipped over and hopped in the passenger seat while Y/n got in the back.

“Ugh fine.” I groaned and started the car and drove Maxine home.

The while car ride was Y/n and Maxine talking about roller skating and skateboarding.

“Yeah I tried skateboarding but I liked roller skating more, it feels more fluid for me.” Y/n said.

Maxine replied, “I totally get that, less chances to crack your skull too.”

The two girls laughed as I sulked. It took longer to get hole too since I didn’t want to drive fast and scare Y/n.

Pulling up to the house Maxine hopped out of the car and waved goodbye and Y/n sat up front.

“You’re a good brother Billy, and even a better date. And the date hasn’t even begun yet!” The girl next to me said with a smile. Said smile was contagious because I couldn’t help myself to wear one too.

“Don’t flatter me too much doll it’ll get to my head.”

Next thing you know she placed a kiss on my cheek.

“I think I like you Billy, a lot.” She said bashfully and held her hands. “I don’t want to rush this though so how about we go to the rink now yeah?”

I could still feel her lips on my cheek as I drove us to the rink. Drive by The Cars played on the radio which Y/n turned up, saying it was her favorite band.

The date was everything I hopes it would be. Y/n and I skating under the dim neon lights as music softly played. It was getting late and everyone was gone except us. And under the discoball in the center Y/n and I shared a kiss that sparked something inside me. It felt like magic coursing through my veins.

Uh oh, I think I just fell in love… That was fast.

#stranger things #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x you #roller skating

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karmawonders · 2 years

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Congrats on 800 followers!!!

Ever since I learned about SAGAU, I have been nervous to play music (idk why though??) But I listen to people like Cupcakke and Ayesha and now I'm wondering what the acolytes' reactions would be to the creator playing weird music ^^

🌸Thank you, thank you!🌸

Ahh, I do enjoy myself some good Cupcakke and Ayesha. I got both of em on my playlist, haha! I listen to some pretty out there music as well, if hyper-pop counts as weird. Who knows~ Anyway somehow this became Consort!Diluc and I apologize, my brain went running with this ask and it became.. this.

Warnings: Sexual Content. Cult and Self Aware AU. Somewhat Yandere.

Contents: This could be considered a crackpost at some points. Includes the song squidwards nose / commentary from because I bop to it, aight? . There is mention of "holy dildo." Forgive me i thought it was funny. Diluc is completely devoted to you(he wants to be your consort) and is suddenly worried about his dick size. Not beta read we die like rex-lapis.

Anyway!

I imagine it would be a normal day like any other in Mondstadt. The city is bustling, Flora giving people cute little flower crowns to promote her flower shop, bards singing about various topics and styles, Knights of Favonius helping people find lost cats, etc etc.

In the middle of the town square, stands your current puppets (thats what I call the"vessles" in my au) , in this case the traveller. I imagine depending on the emotional connection/friendship level you have to each of your puppets, people can sometimes hear you through them. Like a walking speaker or smth.

Since the twins don't got a friendship level, its just the equivalent of maxed out. They're crafting up some condensed resin for you, since you were AFK and they knew you were going to do so anyway. They were doing their best to ignore the loud music that they are emitting whilst doing so, Timaeus and others looking at them with wide eyes.

It isn't often your non-puppets hear obvious signs of the creator themselves, ya know! Literally everyone likes listening to you, whether it's Lofi music, rock, pop, or your voice itself!

Whenever they hear your voice from one of your more connected puppets, everyone is just filled with bubbles of happiness and excitement. Like! yay! I am directly in the High Gods presence! Sorta! Not really but its stilly exciting!

This time though, its a bit more of a "Ayo what the fuck?" sort of feeling instead of the usual.

Loudly blaring from their beings, was Cupcakke, and the iconic song "Squidward Nose".

Jean? Red faced, making sure no children are in the area, hands covering her face as she does her best, and fails, to think on who "dora the explorer" is, instead thinking about her god wanting a dick apparently as large as "squidwards nose". She has the church and the sisters notate this in a book. Might be some form of holy dildo or something, who knows.

Lisa is laughing her ass off the entire time, patting her on the back as she helps annotate notable things in the song with a few of the sisters from the Cathedral. Gotta keep their holy bible updated, afterall. She is tempted to write a new thesis for the scholars at Sumeru just for kicks and giggles about how their High God could potentially be more human than formerly assumed. She has a great new evidence, after all~ then again, the scholars at Sumeru are batshit crazy, so many not.

Venti is right at the travellers side, committing the song to his memory the best he can. Definitely getting in the way of them actually crafting the Resin, much to the twin's annoyance. He is always at whoevers side when you are playing any type of music, the music is completely new to him after all. You can bet he will be doing his best to sing the song at any late night tavern performances, even if he isn't getting all the references outside the obvious sexual stuff. Its an instant hit at Angels share, not just because Venti is singing it, but because the High God apparently likes the song as well. Also because its a great song.

Speaking of Angels Share, Diluc's face, is obviously, also as red as tomato when he hears Venti reciting the song later. He enjoys very much being a puppet, and he is definitely incredibly devoted to the High God. (aka you). He has to be devoted if he wants to fully commit himself to you, and possibly be your consort if you come down to Teyvat one day! This entire situation is completely uncouth, much to his dismay. He thinks its ruining your image before he realizes it is simply expanding it. Also, he is very upset. He is packing down there, definitely. But now he is self conscious because what if squidwards nose is better? He should honestly really kick out Venti, even is he is an Archon. Its getting in the way of his business.

Kaeya and Rosaria know about Diluc's somewhat obsessive worship and desire to be your consort, and they also know exactly why thats he is so red faced and upset and Venti's song. And because they absolutely enjoy it, they keep on giving Venti bottles of alcohol for encores of the song. And more, and more. Until Diluc has to excuse himself and leave. They are laughing the entire fuckin time. They always enjoy listening to your music whenever its playing, and they definitely agree that you should play similar songs more often. Its incredibly amusing.

🌸

Anywho's, that was fun to write! I do not know why Diluc was on the mind, but to be honest, I simp for the man highkey soooo-

Hope that was all alright for you dear Anon, and I hope you have a good day!

🌸Want to support me? Here is my Ko-fi and Masterlist!🌸

#genshin impact cult au #genshin self aware #genshin cult au #self aware genshin impact #sagau #genshin sagau brain #genshin sagau #sagau brainrot #follower event #self aware genshin #cult au #Consort!diluc #diluc x reader #genshin sagau cult #genshin impact #genshin impact au #genshin impact x reader #genshin sagau brainrot #sagau crack

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chimkin-samich · 2 months

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It's always very fun to check in on your blog after some time because every time I cannot stop myself from going "oh!!!! I know them!!!! That's so crazy!!" On literally every post. I scroll down on your blog of my own volition and every single post I'm like "wow what a crazy coincidence I see them again. That's my fren!!" And then do it once more. I really am out here with the three second memory of a goldfish and energy of a golden retriever seeing their owner walk through the door no matter how long it's been 😭😭😭

LISTEN SKDKFC BROSKI, I AM THE EXACT SAME WAY OK 😭 literally have so many ways to contact you but I see you on my feed and I too become a golden retriever, same exact thought of “omg my fren!” With out fail each time

Your memes are also top tier as always 😩✨

I gotta say tho, I love how you could literally text me thru discord but you always drop an ask and I find it both hilarious and endearing 😭

#mods speaketh #mod sly #it’s my twinnnn #I missed you bro 😭

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moxfirefly · 2 years

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Hi! First time caller long time listener, and I was hoping that maybe you could do prompt-

'' friends kiss each other all the time, right? ''

with Donnie (reader pronouns she/they). I always loved your writing (especially the one from today :,) )! You don’t have to go with this but when I read the prompt, I couldn’t help but think of Donnie trying to rationalize the kiss after the fact, like maybe to Mikey and he’s getting more and more flustered the more he tries to play it off and fails (and he’s all blushy and shy and cute) But if you come up with something better, go right ahead, I love all your works, I’ve read every single one, no exaggeration, multiple times. I am in your capable hands, your writing is truly and absolutely wonderful and awe inspiring

It absolutely warms my heart to see this and honestly it blows my mind that people like my stuff that much. Thank you so much and welcome to the madness 💖

I’m glad you chose this prompt cause I high key wanted it.

Rated Fluff

He must’ve been staring blankly at the monitor for too long because even Mikey noticed. He’d felt his younger brother nudge him, his own ramblings coming to a stop.

“Are you in that big ol’ noggin of yours again dude?” Mikey had questioned, before plunking one of Donnie’s many knick knacks from his desk. He had to fidget with something.

“Friend’s kiss each other all the time, right?” Donnie blurted out the question, a touch of worry in his tone.

Not like he hasn’t been running the memory on loop since it happened.

Not like he swore he could still feel how your lips landed on his own.

God damn it.

Mikey raised a brow ridge at his older brother. “Oh yeah, me and Casey make out all the time, in a bro way” He grinned when Donnie glared at his juvenile joke.

“Did you get a smooch from a pal? Who smooched man? I wanna know!” Now he was clearly invested, and surely he wouldn’t stop until Donnie caved.

How could he even begin to explain? He’d been running laps over this like any equation that would stump him. How did point A become point B? The evening had tan normal, the idle chat had been friendly and when he’d walked you to one of the exits in the Lair what he assumed would be a goodbye hug had turned into a goodbye peck.

Kiss? It was a kiss. You lingered. He’d counted.

Your smile had been sly but your blush had betrayed your resolve.

God, you blushed all the way down to your chest.

Why did he fucking like that so much?

“It was y/n…” Donnie received several smacks to the arm and celebratory whoop’s from Mikey. He’d much rather crawl into a hole right now.

“Dude she likes you! You gotta go for it!” Mikey ever the romantic, ever the hopeful.

“It was a friends thing I’m sure, I doubt it has to do with anything else, just forget I mentioned it” False alert, it just has to be.

As he got up he felt Mikey grab his wrist, all the immature fueled comments just taking a stand still. His gaze was honest and heartfelt. “Don, is it so hard to grasp the idea that a girl like them could be into you?” When the hell has Mikey gotten so wise?

He felt stumped, staring at his little brother in bewilderment.

The ghost of your kiss from last night made his lips tingle again. He swallowed doubt for once and allowed it to be a possibility.

“By their standards? No, it’s not really that imposible, but I mean-“

“Yeah this whole issue” Mikey waved at their bodies. “But listen, I for sure as hell know that she hasn’t kissed me or any of our brothers, sooo…” He shrugged a little and gave Donnie’s arm a reassuring squeeze.

The powers that be seem to concur with Mikey, because just as that was said the phone went off.

Your ringtone playing.

#tmnt bayverse #ask #pigeonshoes #friends to lovers #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt donatello x reader #donatello x reader #donnie x reader #tmnt Donatello #Donnie

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fanfoolishness · 11 months

Text

Jedi: Fallen Order musings

Ahhh I finished the game! I suppose I don't really need to put spoiler tags for it, since it's several years old. But it was highly enjoyable and I loved it!

I love how much games are embracing character work these days. I expect it from Bioware, of course, but seeing it from EA and a major property like Star Wars is still really refreshing. I should have guessed that a story set just a few years after Order 66 about a young Jedi would be full of trauma, but I wasn't expecting it to be as in-depth and sensitive as it was. Trauma colors everything in this story, from Cal's wounded connection to the Force, to Cere cutting herself off from it entirely, to Merrin's fear and grief. Even BD-1 grieves his old friend and master and Greez still misses his great-grandmother.

I've seen a few articles about how Cal seemed like a flat or boring character, but I didn't get that at all. He's an 18-year-old young man whose childhood was obliterated by war, who's so afraid of his past and his power that he hasn't tried to leave Bracca in 5 years. He's so guarded at first, because he's had to be. He's slow to trust Cere and Greez, and that trust is broken when he learns what happened to Cere's Padawan. In his youth he reacts like many of us would -- arrogantly and self-righteously -- but it all flows from the deep scars he carries and is so afraid to face from losing his own Master. Fear leads to anger, of course.

He's afraid of trusting again, afraid of being hurt again, so afraid that it isn't until 3/4 of the way through the game that he finally bears to revisit the memories again from Order 66. Facing that loss, and that guilt for not being able to save his master, incapacitates him so badly that a Force vision shatters his lightsaber. (The game remembers it, too, and the animation of Cal reaching out of habit for his lightsaber and realizing it's broken every time you try to use it is heartbreaking.) When he goes to Ilum to try to forge a new lightsaber, he can't help but remember when he came here as a Padawan. BD-1 checks in on him and Cal tells him, no, he's not okay, it's hard for him to be there. The kid is just a massive ball of pain and trauma and watching him slowly unravel that and move forward through the course of the game is a powerful journey. No personality, my ass, LOL.

And Cere's journey! Her grief is far more complex than Cal's because she bears more guilt, and she was a fully fledged Jedi who thought she could keep others safe, and she failed. Fear and anger rule her, too, but despite that she's stubborn as hell, holding onto hope through everything. Her grief and suffering are revealed slowly and carefully through the game, and seeing the way she starts to heal by mentoring Cal is beautiful. When he falls down, she picks him up, even when he distrusts her -- and when she falls, too, he echoes her teaching back to her and helps her rise. Seeing her recovery of her confidence, her skills, her trust in herself -- ahh I'm tearing up again thinking about it. Also, she is fucking badass with a lightsaber!!!

I'm really excited to see what happens with Merrin in Jedi: Survivor (no spoilers, please!). Can't believe a Jedi and a Nightsister could find common ground, but "I'm the last of my kind" is a trauma bond like no other! I love her weird unsettling energy and the fact that she teases Greez and that when she had a choice to stay in the graveyard of her people and the past or strike out into the unknown, she chose to go.

... Reminds me, I still gotta go find all the seeds for Greez's terrarium. How else will he have the best space garden if not for me? Love him too. I'm always a sucker for gruff scoundrel accidentally catches family feels, and he's no exception.

And BD-1. My buddy, my friend, my savior, my companion. I loved Cal able to warm up and be relaxed with BD, and I loved BD's absolute helpfulness and sweet little noises. If anything happens to him I WILL kill everyone and then myself. ... same goes for Cal, in the end...

Note, I am hoping that whatever happens to Cal and BD, that it's hopeful. Jedi have a nasty habit of all dying out by A New Hope, but uh... maybe Cal will be different! We can hope!!! ;_; Well, we're just not gonna think about that.

I liked the ending. The further we kept going I started agreeing with Merrin and thinking "is this holocron such a good thing to have?" Cal's vision of the Padawans being tortured and himself as an Inquisitor, and the wisdom from the Zeffo sages bemoaning their hubris and the extinction they faced, certainly made it seem like trying to rebuild the Order wasn't the right choice, at least for now. As Cordova said, failure is part of the journey. Honestly a hopeful life lesson and one I need to remember when things don't come out as planned or hoped.

Also. How about Darth Vader just DESTROYING you? I had to look up how to get away because I just kept insta-dying with the Force choke XD The ONLY way to have him duel you is to just show instantly that you are NOWHERE NEAR HIS LEVEL! Dude didn't even get a health bar ahahahahah it was hopeless XD

Other scattered thoughts: with the exception of the Wookiees (sorry, hair technology just wasn't far enough along yet for them), the graphics were gorgeous. I loved exploring the different areas, especially as I gained more skills and abilities, and collecting creature logs and Force echoes. Cal's psychometry skill is very, very cool and I loved it. And I adored the Origin Tree! WOW! Did anyone else get a King's Quest vibe from it? I mean, come on!

In the meantime, where's my Fallen Order people to yell at? I haven't played more than 20 minutes of Survivor so all I can say about that is Cal's new beard and TATTOO are pretty great, though I miss my poncho ;_; but if anyone wants to yell about the first game with me, I'm here!

#cal kestis #jedi: fallen order #star wars #bd 1 #cere #cere junda #merrin #fallen order #jedi fallen order #star wars jedi fallen order

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cheesus-doodles · 2 years

Text

Going Home: Chapter 2

Yandere Platonic Toman

a big thanks to all my wonderful, patient readers, especially those that voted to have me work on this - it's a relief and a joy to finally be able to get this out to yall <3 there was so much more I had hoped to write, but alas, time restrictions. Enjoy!

‎

Going Home: Chapter 1

Yandere Platonic Toman Masterlist | Masterlist

“Did you hear? They upped that bounty again.” Naoto was usually good at tuning out the mundane chatter of his fellow policemen bustling around his cubicle - it was a skill he had trained over many years of work. Yet there was something in his gut about that line that had him paying attention to station gossip for once; the detective couldn’t quite recall anything about a bounty mentioned in the last two years.

Ears perking up as the two continued over the divide of an office cubicle unaware of their eavesdropper, the black-haired man leaned in as close as he could. “50 million yen, imagine that. More than a year’s salary, all that just for a safe return.”

No, Naoto chuckled to himself, mentally pushing away that photo of you still dressed in the uniform of a school that no longer exists attached to your file as he tried to focus back on the double homicide case open in front of him - there was absolutely no way that they were talking about you, right? But as the conversation unfolded, the unease at the back of his mind only grew.

“Never gave up, huh? It’s been twelve years now, can’t imagine what those criminals want with her."

“You gotta feel bad though. She was only fourteen ya know - my girl’s fourteen this year too."

His heart sank instantly. Despite all the odds, it was you - there was no doubt about it. But how could this be? You were of course still missing, as you had been for twelve years, and Naoto was dead certain that there was no open case on you, let alone a bounty enough to make anyone's eyes water - he had told Takemichi himself just a week and a half before. Even as the conversation took a turn for the lighter topics of upcoming vacations and bonuses, the black-haired police remained stuck, fingers frozen on his keyboard, mind whirling as he struggled to recall. Was there a memory refresh that he failed to notice? Did this change in his present mean that Takemichi was back from the future?

But it was one thought and one thought alone that quickly dominated the front of his mind, sending a shiver down his spine as it always did previously. If the future did truly change without his knowledge, then there was a possibility-

Hina-

Yet his rigid fingers refused to obey his mind’s orders to fly across the spotless, worn keyboard just like they had a few seconds ago despite it feeling much longer, remaining stubbornly stuck to the same keys they had been resting on. No matter how much he mentally screamed at them, pleaded with them, begged them to just move, to type in his sister’s name into the search bar just like they had so many times before, all he could do in the moment was watch the blinking cursor mock him.

“Tachibana-san? Are you all right?” A gentle touch to his shoulder had him all but leap from his seat, though Naoto had at least enough restraint not to swing at the thought intruder even in his shock.

Eyes flying up from his screen, his widened gaze met a pair of furrowed eyebrows framing a concerned look from his fellow detective occupying the cubicle next to him. “I-I’m fine,” The Tachibana sibling stammered out, hurriedly wiping off his sweaty palms on the sides of his pants.

“You’re shaking!” She tutted, looking him over, her tone quickly softening to a gentle lull. “I think you should take the day off, Tachibana-san. I heard about what happened when I got back, my condolences about your sister.”

So Hina didn’t make it in this future either. But still there was something very wrong, his instincts screamed at him, and combined with the feeling of a thousand snakes crawling under his skin making the hair on the nape of his neck stand, the detective was more than inclined to believe the churn of his gut.

Stepping out into the cool night, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky to block the shine of the full moon smiling down ever so gently upon Naoto as he rushed out from the station with a single mind to get home as quickly as possible. The flap of loose papers haphazardly stuffed into his bag threatened to set themselves free in the tail breeze he kicked up as the man slid into his car, engine letting out a choked cough as it was forced to life. The slumbering streets of Tokyo felt unusually silent despite nothing being out of the ordinary - the occasional drunk lying fast asleep along the pavement being the only signs of life. But for all his reckless driving and breakneck speed, flinging open his front door only to find Takemichi's slumbering body, still frozen on the makeshift bed as it had been for the past three weeks, only led Naoto to a single, troubling conclusion.

‎

Across on the other side of town, tucked away safely in the heart of the headquarters belonging to Japan’s most dangerous syndicate, you were snoozing away peacefully under the same shared moonlight, blissfully unaware of the turmoil you had unknowingly stirred up.

Snuggled tight under warm comfortable sheets and a familiar weight huddled in your arms, you had - in the drowsy haze of waking from a good night’s rest - initially brushed the previous day as nothing more than a creepy dream, a nightmare even. That it must have been just a dream, too bizarre to even consider that those heart-pounding events actually came to pass. Finding yourself in an unfamiliar alley with the school building nowhere in sight, being kidnapped by a man with no footsteps from your own house, only to be whisked away to find a white-haired sickly looking Mikey; you chuckled at the thought of your Toman friends flying into a panic at the absurdity of your story, perhaps even insisting that you went to have your head checked.

Yet as your heavy eyes fluttered open, you were confronted not with the first lights of dawn scattering through, or even the dim glow of the streetlamp that had faithfully stood outside your room for as long as you could remember - there was nothing but darkness. Eyes now flying open, your breath hitched - where were you? The glimpse of something white nestled in the crook of your neck did little to settle the thumping in your chest, the vain attempt in moving either of your legs or your left arm only adding fuel to the growing fire. This wasn’t home. This wasn’t your bed. Wha-

But right as the panic set in, your single free arm shooting out in a bid to yank yourself free, it was the low, sleepy mumble of your name emulating from an unseen face - the same one pressed firmly into your chest - that had you freeze before you could strike out at the offending party, your mind now choosing to instead offer up a familiar name to your clinger.

“Mikey?” You whispered.

The insistent nuzzle was your only response, individual strands of white hair thrown up, fluttering with every breath you exhaled, glittering even in the lack of light as Mikey tried to bury his face deeper in a bid to escape the disturbance. It was a strange mix of relief and reassurance that flooded you - the thought of the events of yesterday truly happening, that it hadn’t been just a dream - it was somehow comforting.

Letting a yawn, the first of the day, bubble up and out through your lips, running one hand through his hair brought about only more whimpers, Mikey's grip on your shirt, where he's been no doubt been stuck to the entire night, tightening further in his sleep. You didn't mind of course, you never did, no matter which Mikey he was. Allowing yourself to sink back under the thick covers, helped along by a for once in no hurry to start your day, you could only wonder how long you had been asleep - it was rare that you ever sleep in after all, not with hungry boys to feed at lunch time.

Still, as time ticked on, no matter how hard you tried, the feeling of dirt that clung to your skin from the previous day and the itch of your school uniform was getting impossible to ignore. And you did try your best, your friend’s once-sorrowful face now smoothened out in his sleep too peaceful for you to disrupt - it must have been a while since he had a good rest, you gently tracing the tips of your fingers across his dark eyebags. Yet the desire to feel the grime of yesterday gone became too overwhelming, and you could only allow the expected guilt to weigh on your gut as you carefully pried yourself free from Mikey, the familiar, heart-wrenching whine that had started up quickly dying down when you reattach the notorious snuggler to a bolster, as you had so many times before.

The comfortable silence that hung over Mikey’s bedroom was only broken by another yawn and a groan of satisfaction as you stretched out cramped limbs, with several muffled knocks soon joining the small cacophony of sound as you tried to feel out the doorway you vaguely remember stumbling through - you made sure it was nothing loud enough to wake your sleeping friend at least. Too worn out to have noticed which direction you had stumbled in the previous day, you could only resort to fumbling about in the shadows, outstretched hands feeling for any sort of handle or frame that would indicate a door. At least with the tiny room, it didn’t take long for your hands to catch on, the cold of the metal door handle that froze the tips of your fingers a good sign. But the flood of light that burst through the tiniest crack of the door had you instantly regretting your decision, the sudden brightness overwhelming your sensitive eyes.

‎

Life was hard, bemoaned Ran. Taking a stroll down luxuriously decorated corridors, the only thing Ran could think of at the moment was the small specks of dirty red that stained his custom tailored suit and his sore feet. A horrible combination of having his intended targets lead on a wild goose chase down countless smelly alleys in a vain attempt to escape their sealed fates, combined with having to shoot them way too close for comfort had left him being completely exhausted.

Yet despite his need to just crumble right where he stood and take a nice, long nap sprawled across the plush carpets, him in such a tragic state was a sight Rindo would absolutely kill to see, and that was the last thing Ran would ever allow his younger brother to have the pleasure of. And so against the wishes of his screaming, aching muscles, the man all but willed his body to keep moving - hold out just a bit longer for a hot shower and his soft, warm, comfy bed was the mantra he repeated to himself on every agonizing step. But the older of the two Haitani brothers quickly found himself thankful for having made the initially awful decision to make the journey.

It was the small crack of complete darkness that contrasted so vastly against the matted wood of that dreaded white door and the backdrop of eternally lit corridors that instantly caught even his weary eyes as he rounded the corner towards Executives’ Row, the glint of an eye carefully peering out somehow gleaming brighter than the polished gold of the overhead chandelier for a brilliant moment.

And in that moment as he strided near Mikey’s door, your eye swung up to catch his, and you blinked. In surprise, Ran guessed, since it was rare to have any foot traffic round this part of the building - he must have been the first person you saw all this time. But when you instead pulled the door further open to allow yourself to shimmer out the narrow gap, the single beam of light briefly illuminating his boss’s figure huddled up in bed before the door was lightly shut behind you, the Bonten executive couldn’t claim that he understood what went through your mind in that moment.

Staring up at him with wide eyes, you having to take a deep breath before pulling yourself together to speak up. “Sorry to bother, but do you know where I could find the shower?”

You stood out almost painfully among the hardened criminals that roamed Bonten Headquarters - and it wasn’t your rumpled school uniform: it was rather well known that certain… members of their esteemed organization had their tastes. But rather it was your whole person - from your delicate hands to the softness of your face, and those eyes. Those big innocent eyes that hid nothing from the world - one look was all Ran needed to tell that you didn’t belong in their underworld, your thoughts and feelings pouring forth with barely a filter. Plus the fact that you had deemed him, of all people, safe enough to leave the confines of Mikey’s room despite his person being clearly covered in blood for such a simple question; you weren’t exactly the brightest kid on the block. Though perhaps you were right in your reading to an extent; Ran wasn’t about to touch anyone who clearly had his boss’ favor - enough to survive a night and a morning where no one else has ever treaded at least.

Slipping his hand into the pocket of his coat, the made-man was still somewhat surprised to see the lack of a fear response from you that the simple gesture elicited previously in so many victims and grunts alike, whether he was retrieving his gun or something much more innocuous. But it was just his pack of cigarettes this time, Ran gesturing for you to follow him a little ways down the corridor, to which you obediently tottered along much to his amusement, before lighting the stick now clenched between his teeth. Mikey always hated the smell, and you didn’t favor it either, your nose scrunching up as the smoke drifted towards you with the whirl of the air conditioning. “So you’re Mikey’s type huh? Never thought he liked his whores so young~”

The question was enough to break you out of your exceedingly polite coughing fit hidden behind one fragile hand, even if Ran had meant for it to be rhetorical. Furrowing your eyebrows, nothing could prepare the man for the next question that spilled from your lips. “A whore? What’s a whore?”

He gagged. That wretched gray smoke sputtered out in small breaths as Ran all but doubled over with laughter, the expression on your face swinging from bewildered to concern only adding to the pain in his sides. You had reached out, but he only waved your concern away, allowing himself to live through the rolling waves of highs and pain. Finally pulling himself together, the soreness of the day seemed to have all but melted away. “You’re joking right?”

You had to be; there was no way that school uniform was real. He knew the other executives were strange, but even they wouldn’t sink that low - it was an unspoken rule by far, but everyone knew better than to risk Mikey’s wrath. Throwing one arm over you, he leaned down. “Come on, you can tell me - how’s the old man in bed? He went in raw or what? I promise I won’t tattle~”

“Old ma- oh! You mean Mikey? His hair is quite white I suppose.” Tilting your head, Ran could see the gears in your head turning through those doe eyes. “He always likes to cuddle when he’s sleeping.”

Wha- Cuddling?

But just as Ran was about to open his mouth and ask you to elaborate whether it was the same kind of cuddling he was thinking of, it was about then that Kakucho’s cryptic warning, dished out in passing as the two met at the door to the dining room, which he had originally dismissed to the back of his mind swung back to hit him like a brick. If you see a girl in a middle school uniform around, mess with her at your own risk.

No fucking way.

Immediately dropping his arm from you, Ran took a step back, his neglected cigarette quickly finding its way back between his lips as the executive let out a shaky laugh. Fuck. That explained a lot. So you were that girl - Mikey’s missing girl. A lot younger than he was expecting, but still. He didn’t imagine the boss would take very kindly to Ran’s prodding of you regardless, much less so after searching the length and breadth of Japan for you for twelve straight years.

Turning only briefly to stub out his cigarette on a nearby ashtray, the Bonten executive exhaled the last of his smoke break in the direction of a vent, before facing you once more. Pulling up the best older-brother smile he could muster (those that he reserved to use on Rindo when he accidentally shoots him in the foot again), Ran cranked his charisma to the max. “I suppose Mikey can be pretty sweet at times huh?”

Dear god if the others heard the things he was saying. But this was a do-or-die, and luckily for him, you were no way as cunning as the bastards he usually deals with. Probably way too kind to laugh, too naive to realize his backtracking, you seem to almost gladly take the bait. “He is! Mikey really doesn’t have a mean bone - just a tad protective honestly.”

Right, not a single mean bone. The boss of Bonten, the single largest and most feared criminal organization in Japan with its sticky fingers in the most horrid illegal activities imaginable, had just a small problem with how possessive he was. Sure. Maybe. Ran really couldn’t tell what was hurtling through what must have been a pretty empty space in your head, and he didn’t think he would want to ever find out, but if it worked in his favor, well - you wouldn’t find him complaining. Kind smile never once slipping, the man reached down to gently brush a lock of hair out of your face, before lazily straightening back up.

He knew what he was doing well; a gentle blush instantly blooming across your cheeks, though Ran didn’t miss the confusion washing across your eyes before you shyly dropped your gaze from his. Ah, to be innocent once more. “Pardon me, it seems I got sidetracked. You were looking for the shower, weren’t you?”

“I- yes?” You squeaked out, before you seemingly caught yourself, blinking several times as if breaking yourself out of a spell, your voice quickly returning to normal. “Yes, the shower please.”

“It’s down this way, you see that giant vase?” Ran pointed down the corridor he had hauled himself down just minutes earlier, the ornate white and blue Chinese vase he never once noticed now an eye-catching feature in the near distance, flowers and cranes glowing and dancing under the gentle glow of its dedicated spotlight. “Take a left, and it’s the first door on your right. You’ll find everything you need in there.”

Given that it was Koko’s private shower room went unsaid; that white-haired money freak was only about as scary as a bottle of shampoo next to Mikey’s wrath, and if leading you to the most luxurious shower meant there was a chance you forgot what he just said to you or even better, put in a good word for him with the boss, Ran would willingly, happily forfeit his month’s stipend. Hell, he would even forfeit two month’s worth if it met that he didn’t have to explain to Mikey why he dared even utter such crude words around you.

Your gaze followed his finger, lingering for a moment at the vase marking the junction, before you turned back to face him. Yet your eyes remained amusingly fixed on his waist as you chirped your thanks, before taking your hurried leave from his presence, all but running the short distance down the carpet-lined path and disappearing round the corridor. The slow creak of a well-worn hinge was somehow cute - Ran imagining you carefully pulling open the door and peaking inside to check if he was pulling a fast one on you - and then the soft click of the door locking behind you. Finally letting out the wretched sigh he had been holding, the Bonten executive allowed himself to slump against the wall, hand slipping back into his pocket to grasp at the familiar, crumpled box of cigarettes, the drying bloodstains dotting his suit long forgotten. Fucking hell.

‎

Separated by just a few streets and twelve years of yet unpassed time, it seemed no matter how hard Takemichi searched and researched, there was still no sign of you anywhere to be found in this quiet corner of town, nor any sign that the cruel afternoon heat that had been roasting him alive for the past two hours or so would finally have mercy on him and let up already. Letting out a wretched sigh as you failed to appear in the depths of yet another dumpster, the echo of the lid slamming shut behind him resounding across empty alleyways only seemed to taunt the blond-haired boy of his failure - of everything that had happened, how could he have forgotten about you?

You, the one trigger that every part of that wretched future seemed to be linked to, whom Hina's future depended on. It was stupid of him to assume that just because he had prevented Draken’s death from coming to pass on the night of August 3rd, the slate would have been wiped clean. Yet now with you now truly missing from the past, Takemichi could only dry his bitter tears on his school uniform’s sweat soaked sleeve - despite all he and Naoto had worked for, it seemed that the same future would come to pass once more.

That same memory he had of you from the hospital kept replaying itself in his head no matter how much the blond-haired boy tried to force it back, haunting him like a ghost, taunting his failures. It was always the same scene: him catching sight of you seated in a small private room at the end of a busy corridor alone while partially hidden behind a wall, watching from a distance as you bundled Mikey in your arms, him crumpling and weeping into your chest. The white of the bandages neatly bound around your hand from where you tried to catch the knife almost glowing under the harsh white lights, standing out against the gold of the Toman President’s hair as you ran it through your friend’s hair, what seemed like a hum on your lips as you bent to press a kiss to the top of his head. A reminder that despite Mikey’s invincible strength, he was still just a kid inside - one that needed comfort as much as Takemichi did, a place to seek refuge from the harsh world - comfort that he found in you.

Comforts that all the Toman founders found in you and your loving arms according to weary, overly cautious members who spoke only in hushed tones, which they were now forced to endure without even as life marched relentlessly on, bringing Takemichi full-circle back to this situation he was trapped in. What to do? Was there anything more he could even do?

The ping of a new message broke his train of thoughts, though far from being the good news he hoped for, it was just the quarter-hourly text from Draken that lit the small screen of his flip phone. Yet another sigh slipped his lips before Takemichi could stop it, the blond-haired boy slumping against the brick-lined wall that stretched endlessly into the distance, glumly replying a negative to the Toman Vice Captain before tucking his phone away. This was all his fault. If only he had drummed up the courage to approach you after saving Draken, there was a chance that he could have saved Hina-

Wait. Draken was saved. He didn’t die. And that meant-

Pushing off from the wall, his feet barely made a tap against the concrete as Takemichi all but flew down the path, mind set in a single-minded attempt to reach the Tachibana residence as fast as humanly possible. The future was not all that set in stone just yet it seemed.

‎

The steam gently rising from the floor in a cloud was usually an indicator that your time in the shower was up, but seated under the hot water raining down on your skin, alone with time to yourself, it was little wonder your reluctance to leave the small comfort you found sapped away your will. And so here you were, sat on a small stool underneath a trickle of running water, with the lingering fragrance of expensive yet unfamiliar soaps you barely dared use still tickling your nose (in your defense, they were the only ones available), thinking.

Not only did you just realize you had no clean clothes to change into after your shower, having already accidentally sprayed your only set when you were momentarily overpowered by the shower head, it was only amidst the quiet of the bathroom - alone for the first time in the whirlwind of the past twenty-four hours - when the realization finally dawned on you that wherever this was, it wasn’t home. Yes, you were undoubtedly still in Shibuya, Tokyo - the train stations you were whisked past were unmistakable, no matter how blurred and brief your view of the outside was.

Yet the Tokyo that laid tauntingly out of reach, hidden behind the opulent walls of this labyrinth of corridors - it wasn’t the same lively city you had awoken to yesterday morning. The sun that would rise or had risen, it couldn’t be the same sun that had bathed you in its gentle glow as it peaked over the horizon as you locked your front door behind you. And the most concerning of all was the unrecognizable Mikey you had fallen asleep with. This was no dream, but at the same time, how could it not be? Whatever was happening to you was supposed to be the stuff of books - mere fantasy trapped safely behind printed words.

So where were you? The patter of water raining down on the tiled floor held no answers for your question, and so your mind turned to the other pressing issue.

That man. Even now safely behind the double-locked door of the pristine shower room, the mere memory of the fleeting brush of his fingertips across your cheek was enough to set your face alight once more, and you quickly turned to bury your face into your hands, the fog doing little to hide the flushing face reflected in the wall-to-ceiling mirror from you. You hadn’t dared look back even once at the overly charming purple-haired man as you tried to distance yourself as quickly as it was polite, yet you couldn’t deny that the little skip in your heartbeat at his lazy, charming smile despite the earlier bombardment of strange, weird questions you couldn’t understand - what was wrong with you?

Carefully touching one cheek as if you could feel the heat radiating through your skin, you could only hope that you wouldn’t run into him again, waiting to ambush you with more questions outside the door. You think you liked the polite, distant Kakucho a lot more.

But it seemed that fate had ordained that your peace was over, broken by a sudden loud bang that had you almost toppling off your perch, wood shuddering under the force of the impact, right before another mighty hit to the edge of the lock sent the metal rattling. Despite your first thought being that mysterious man for reasons beyond you, the holler of your name - a desperate prayer leaving the lips of an anguished devotee - resonating through the inch-thick door and echoing around the marble-tiled room that brought your wandering mind firmly back to earth.

“Mikey!” You squeaked, hurriedly reaching up to switch the tap off, the other hand stretching out towards the stack of towels. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust the door, but it was a precaution should the groaning wood give way. “Mikey, it’s okay! I'm here.”

The reassurance seemed enough to at least calm your friend down, the cacophony of the white-haired man all but trying to break down the offensive door instantly dying away, swallowed into the silence that permeated every corner of this seemingly lifeless place. Yet it was the heart wrenching whimper of your name, a quiet whine which followed that pierced the veil of the otherworldly quietness through the solid wood door, reaching your ears loud and clear. “You didn’t leave me.”

Your chest tightened. "I'm right here.” You whispered. “Just had to take a shower."

A pause. "Can I come in?"

The chuckle slipped your lips before you could stop yourself, the amused smile breaking out onto your face clearly reflected on the mirror through the swirling mist even as you carefully righted yourself back onto the stool. It seemed no matter what had transpired, Mikey was still the same boy you knew deep down. "Still a no from me, Mikey."

"But I got clothes for you."

You perked up - indeed a clean change would be sorely welcomed. "Could you pass them to me please? Just a few more minutes okay?"

A promise of attention later was rarely a high enough prize when dangled alongside shower time; one of those unfortunate lessons you had to learn the hard way. You held your breath. "Fine. Open up."

Your sigh of relief was palpable, though the change in tune didn’t slip your attention. Reaching for the silver handle, it took mere seconds from the click of the door being unlocked and pulled ever so slightly open for Mikey to shove a set of clothes through the small gap before yanking it back shut behind him. Though you were almost pulled off your perch for the second time seeing that you had failed to let go of the door handle in time, you still thanked whoever was looking out for you that you had managed to catch the freshly-pressed set with a quick mumbled prayer - you really didn’t fancy having to wear wet clothes, especially after what happened to your first set.

Picking yourself off the stool, you easily recognised the patterns and embroidery adorning the various articles of clothing - this was undoubtedly yours, taken from your house, complete with underwear. Someone must have made the trip at one point in time, and you really did hope it was Mikey - the idea of a complete stranger rummaging through your underwear drawer made you uncomfortable.

“You spoke to Ran.”

“Ran?” You echoed the unfamiliar name - that must have been the name of the purple-haired man from earlier. But you don’t recall a Ran in the ranks of Toman - a new friend perhaps? “How did you know?”

Mikey fell silent for a moment. “I don’t want you talking with him.”

So not a friend, you assume, or at least not a friend you were allowed to have. You didn't answer, instead letting out a sigh as you reached up to turn the shower back on, rinsing off the last of the soap still tangled up in your hair, though it was a glint of purple from one of the multitude of bottles you caught in the corner of your eye that sparked a sudden burst of curiosity. “Mikey?"

“Mmm?”

“What’s a whore?”

Two floors down, a certain purple-haired man felt a shiver go down his spine.

‎

It was instantly clear to Takemichi that he was back in his own twenty-six year old body through just the glare of the familiar overhead lights that never failed to hurt his eyes. Letting out a groan as he struggled to sit back up after three weeks of inactivity, the black-haired man opted to allow his head to drop back onto the acceptably soft cushion of the couch - the clap of his hand against a younger Naoto was the easiest part of any time leap.

“Takemichi! You’re back!”

At least this time around, he didn’t need to face an oncoming train to find Naoto. But there was no rest for the weary it seemed, as the black-haired man was solidly lifted from where he was recovering, a pair of strong hands clamped around his shoulders shaking him like he was the last chip in the Pringle can.

“The future changed, Takemichi!”

“As it’s supposed to?” Was all he managed to get out without biting his tongue - he swore he could feel his mind rattling away in his skull.

But his question only seemed to agitate the younger Tachibana further, the police detective instantly dropping the man back down onto the couch in favour of pinching his nose, looking scarily similar to his former high school teacher having to deal with yet another stupid question. "No, you don't understand. It changed while you were in the past.

The grim look Naoto wore only grew with the horror dawning on his face. “You mean-”

“There’s another time leaper.”

‎

“Come on Mikey, I’m sure he didn’t mean anything bad.” You were sure you had done something right by meekly requesting Mikey to stay with you upon him falling into a sudden silence at your question, which he begrudgingly obliged - at least you had hoped Mikey’s friend would be safe from a beating you had once again unknowingly caused.

Emerging from the shower room to find Mikey huddled into himself against the doorway, the man wasted little time in flinging himself at you, bony arms flushing you tight against him as he buried his face into your shirt. Although it seemed that not all was right, the man instantly pulling away offended after taking a single sniff, abyss eyes turning up to meet your own even as his nose wrinkled, looking much like a puppy who had a strong whiff of lemon. “You don’t smell like you.”

“It’s me.” You reassured him, releasing him from your arms to lift your shirt and have a smell yourself - it was well known how much your friends like the smell of that one soap you had been using back home. Having you use something new on no notice at all must be especially jarring. “I think it’s the soap. Sorry Mikey, there was only one type in there.”

“I don’t want you using this shower. You use only mine, I’ll get you the same soap you use.” Taking another sniff did little to settle your friend, who only grew more disturbed. “Bathe again in my shower.”

Letting your cat-printed shirt fall back down to drape over you, you offered one delicate hand to him. “Come on, I swear I’m already clean!”

Carefully intertwining his fingers in yours, Mikey didn’t seem to want to back down. “This shower’s dirty,” He insisted, stubbornly puffing up his cheeks, looking away when you tried to protest. "Bathe again.”

The laughter bubbled up freely through your lips as you pecked a kiss to his forehead, feeling him melt into your arms once more. “I’ll think about it later, okay Mikey?”

It was the new addition to the overwhelmingly decorated corridors that instantly caught your eye as the two of you traveled the short distance back to Mikey’s room, your footsteps silenced by the plush carpet underfoot, your white-haired friend all but riding piggyback with the way he was clinging to you. A multitude of small fine china bowls, you thought you spied from the distance, the shimmering white embellished with flowers and covered with equally expensive looking porcelain covers quickly covering into view as you and Mikey neared, balanced on a shiny metal tray that had been reverently left on the contrastingly small and simple wooden table right beside your friend’s white bedroom door.

Food perhaps? It did seem to be around lunch time.

And you were quickly proven right, the steam from the freshly-cooked rice wafting up and dispersing in the cool air when you gently lifted the cover. Delicately assembled and beautifully displayed, the effort and sheer work that went into preparing each and every dish was more than clear to you as you carefully revealed every dish - masterfully cooked and skillfully diced lobster tail, beef, pork, vegetables and countless others sides that escaped your knowledge. A feast truly fit for a king. Yet it was only the last dish that had your friend finally leave where he had been huddled against your back, nimble fingers quick to snatch up what your eyes barely registered as a piece of taiyaki.

“Are you going to eat the rest?”

“Don’t wanna.” Came the muttered response, Mikey’s chin now back to resting against your shoulder, half the taiyaki already stuffed inside his mouth.

You sighed, gingerly replacing the cover; that was about the response you had expected from your notoriously picky friend. “You can't just eat taiyaki, Mikey. It's not healthy!"

“But I don’t wanna.” He whined, pressing his face into the crook of your shoulder, the taiyaki clutched in his hand dangled loosely over your other shoulder. “I don’t wanna.”

Oh Mikey definitely knew what he was doing, trying to wriggle his way out of eating anything that wasn’t cake in the shape of a fish. But despite his usually effective kicked-puppy tone that always had you melting and giving in, food was the one topic you never compromised on, and seeing how sickly he looks up close, you had your tricks to make your friend eat. “Ahh I was thinking of making some taiyakis, you know. It’s been a while since I did that.”

The interest was immediate, the man whipping his head up, abyss eyes turning to look at you. “Handmade taiyakis?” Mikey repeated weakly, the grip he had on the front of your shirt tightening.

“Mmm!” Instead feinting disappointment, you struggled to hide the smile as you looked away, wondering out loud. “But you know the rules - can’t eat two taiyakis in a row without a meal. So I guess that’ll have to wait.”

“No!” And there was the answer you were looking for, your white-haired friend throwing himself in front of you in an attempt to stop you from walking away, bundling himself into your arms. “I’ll eat it okay? But you gotta promise.”

Letting out a laugh, you pecked him on the forehead, before expertly twisting around to pick up the tray of food as you had a hundred times before. “I promise I’ll make those taiyakis for you. Come on, we can probably share this.”

It was in a room just two turns down from where you had spent the night that the two of you shared the lavish meal, you carefully spooning pieces of expensive meat atop little lumps of rice and feeding it to a scrunching Mikey, before having a scoop of food yourself. The room itself was bare-boned compared to even the corridor outside, consisting of nothing more than a large meeting table and a few chairs on each side, of which you and Mikey occupied two. It was a far cry from the homely feeling of your own dining room, though you had to admit that the rolling office chairs were extremely comfortable.

Little by little, the two of you chipped away at the meal, finishing right on time, with the last spoonful disappearing into your mouth when there was a quiet knock on the door. The plain wooden door didn’t swing open though like you had expected, but it seemed that it was for Mikey, his head snapping up to stare at the sound for a moment, before his eyes swung to you. “Do you know how to get back to my room from here?”

Humming, you recalled the short walk here as you thoughtfully chewed and swallowed. “Two rights, white door on the left?”

Mikey nodded, taking your hand and gently pulling you towards the doorway. “You head back first. There’s a meeting I need to attend.”

And his tone flattened, the playfulness that had swirled behind the black of his eyes fading away. “You go straight back and lock the door. Don’t stop, and don’t talk to anyone you see, you understand?”

You nodded.

‎

Sanzu doesn’t think he has had a better day than today in years, a rare hum trailing the path that his staggering silhouette carved through the halls of Bonten headquarters. Heaven must have been smiling down on him on this fabulous day, a crooked smile gracing his lips, though not everyone agreed, with the lower ranks of the criminal syndicate tripping over themselves to scram at the sight of a joyful Sanzu.

Mikey’s tray was returned empty. Every dish was polished, the kitchen told him; not even a grain of rice left for the first time in many years. Taking in a large breath, the pink-haired man let his chuckle mix with the pant of his exhale, turning his gaze up towards the ceiling, bright lights burning spots into his dilated eyes barely a bother. His muddled brain could think of nothing else, turning the same few words again and again around even as the high of the moment kept his overly relaxed muscles moving against their will - Mikey was eating. Oh his king was eating again.

Turning the corner seemed a bit too advanced for his drugged-up state, Sanzu barely managing to catch himself on a window ledge before he slammed into one of countless priceless statues that lined the corridor, instead tripping on thin air and landing face first on the carpeted ground. Yet even as he rolled onto his back with a throb in his nose, a mild trickle of blood for all his efforts in saving something he couldn’t care more about (fuck that money miser, he needed his drug money), all the Bonten executive could do was laugh and laugh and laugh, the empty giggles echoing down the empty hallways as the lights overhead continued to shine down uncaringly on his aching sides. Mikey was going to get better and stronger. And maybe Sanzu would even get some praise for his efforts. And damn those pills were strong, maybe he shouldn’t have taken so many if he was going to see the boss. And -

“Are you alright, mister?” A gentle voice broke his internal rambling, pink eyelashes flying open for a pair of steel blues to confront a blurry yet disturbingly familiar face overhead, the small patch of shadow cast over him by your delicate silhouette providing little respite from the throbbing lights. But as the features of your face slowly came into focus, and the memories came flooding back, Sanzu felt the panic and dread surge. No, no, no - you were supposed to be dead! That bounty wasn’t meant to turn up results, he made sure of it!

Were you just a ghost back to haunt him? To haunt Mikey?

“You’re- Sanzu, aren’t you?” But the delight that sparkled in your eyes told a different tale, a bright smile gracing your lips as you offered a hand. “I thought I recognised you from somewhere!”

Attempting to smack your hand away turned out to be a failure, so Sanzu just opted to ignore it, clambering to his swaying feet himself. “You- you’re-” He swallowed, before quickly catching himself. He knew exactly who you were, Mikey’s clear orders back from his Toman glory days roaring straight back to the front of his mind - no one was to look at you or to speak to you without his explicit say so. This was disobeying direct orders from his king. But you were supposed to be dead.

“Are you alright? You’re swaying!” An evil spirit, back to ruin everything he had done for Mikey. To ruin his beloved king.

His hands shot out, long fingers and scarred palms wrapping around your fragile neck, the flash of his Bonten tattoo prominent as his sleeves were pulled back. And he squeezed.

There was no talking needed, the Bonten executive concluded - he just had to get rid of you. You didn’t seem to put up much of a fight; your own fragile fingers doing little against his own, your coughing and pleading a muffled song in his ears as you tried in vain to free yourself from his grip. Sanzu wondered what you looked like dead - your skin ashen like the traitors of Bonten.

“Sanzu!” A roar from down the corridor, a gunshot.

Then a cacophony of pain erupted in his thigh, and you slipped from his clammy grip. Someone - or was it two? - rushed towards him, the parted black hair a clear giveaway. Kakucho. That fucking bootlicker, did he shoot him? “Sanzu, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Shit, you’re bleeding!” A voice hissed out, and Kakucho turned to look. And from the utmost corner of his eyes, Sanzu sees it. The crown of white hair bowed down, smoking gun set to his side as he carefully shifted a heaving you into his arms, bright red blood pooling in your palm and staining his.

It was Mikey.

He had been shot by his king.

“Your neck.” Came Mikey’s quiet whisper, loud and clear in the deadly silence that followed, the Bonten boss gently running the tips of his fingers across the black and blue bruises that littered your neck, still dark where his hands had been moments ago - now nothing more than a mocking reminder of his failure even as his signature striped vest grew wet with his own blood. The pain of being shot was almost dull by now, replaced by a certain euphoria, and Sanzu giggled. The honor. He might die by Mikey’s hands. “Kakucho, give me your handkerchief. And call the doctor.”

“I’m fine, Mikey. Really.”

Several shuffles as Mikey strolled into his direct view, you bundled safe and soundly in his arms. It was the final gaze his boss spared him that instantly plunged the pink-haired men into cold water, before he turned to leave with his priceless cargo. Empty. His eyes were empty. “Kakucho.”

“Yes sir.”

There was no disgust, no anger left for him.

The seconds that ticked as Kakucho stood by, waiting for the boss to turn the corner and disappear, were agonizing. He lost - Sanzu lost. Lost his king to a little slut from the past. But the Bonten third in command had seemingly yet to understand, instead squatting by him as he retrieved a roll of bandage from the depths of his pocket. “Do you actually want to die? You know who that is!”

“You d-don’t unde-rstand.” He sang, though the heaviness of his tongue slurred every word, letting out an oompf as Kakucho tightened the bandage around his leg. “No-nothing but pr-oblems wit-h her around.”

Cryptic warning issued, the world around him promptly turned black.

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