#all i could think of was this giraffe eating leaves and no matter how hard i tried to focus the thought would just. replay | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jeongheart · 7 months

Text

super shy

summary: he's been receiving these letters for the past year but, he doesn't know your name, does he?

w.c: 7.1k.

tags: friends to lovers, fluff, slice of life.

a.n: this is the longest fic i ever written omg, i've been playing new jeans latest comeback for a few days and this is the result lol. as always, english is not my first language so sorry in advance for any mistakes. leave your thoughts if you liked it, means a lot!

It was there again.

Sitting immaculately on top of his messy folders, the envelope was white without any type of decoration, the owner of the cursive handwriting wouldn't even risk placing a sticker since it could give a clue, even minimal, about who was behind it.

The classroom was almost empty, since recess ended a few minutes ago and the students were still lazily getting up from the grass where they were lying, not wanting to lock themselves in a room again for hours while the day was shining beautifully outside the building.

However, Chan looked around him, narrowing his eyes as he scanned his classmates for the smallest trace of uneasiness as he took the envelope in his hands. But he didn't find any, unless the author had a master's degree in poker face no one around him seemed interested in what he was doing.

After the failed scrutiny, he sat down again with no care on the wooden bench, eager to read what that person had to say today. This excited feeling was new for him, the letters had been arriving about a year ago, right at the beginning of the new semester and at first, Chan found it funny. Surely one of his friends (he bet his life on either Seungmin or Minho, those two were always up to something no matter how much they said they weren't) found it fun to piss him off this year, after all, it has been a long time since his last relationship and sometimes he felt the need of affection, so the "joke" made perfect sense in his head.

He didn't read them the first few months, he just crumpled them up and kept them in a hidden place in his backpack, to let whoever was behind them know that he wasn't interested. But they kept coming even after that vile act against someone's real feelings; and that was when Chan began to question if there really was a person genuinely interested in him, interested enough to send him handwritten letters as if they were living in a classic romance novel. The person had a beautiful vocabulary, and it was clear that they paid attention to details that he didn't even noticed about himself.

The notes weren't very long since they didn't exceed ten lines, but each word was full of admiration and affection. They always reminded him to eat and take care of his health, in addition to telling him day by day one of the qualities why his mysterious person had fallen in love with him. Chan blushed every time he read those reasons, it was no secret (to himself, since he didn't like others to know) that he didn't think very highly of himself; from his point of view there was nothing nice or admirable about his existence. But this person believed just the opposite, and they had made their life's mission to let him know that every day.

Today was no exception, the lined sheets were a pastel color (pink? orange?) and had small animal decorations at the bottom and top (he noticed that these came in "groups", the representative animal of these last ten notes was a smiling giraffe). It was incredibly adorable, and Chan found himself laughing softly every time he took out the contents of the envelope.

'Mondays are always hard! Especially this time of year (can't the professors trust in me and my knowledge of things? I don't see the need for them to take a test).

Anyway, Channie, this weekend I found myself thinking a lot about you, every time I start writing my reasons I feel like I'm going to be left speechless but then I remember that it's not difficult at all to love you. So here is another one:

Your resilience, I greatly admire your ability to always get up no matter how many blows life throws at you. The vast majority of us feel discouraged by the slightest inconvenience, but not you. And that is something incredible.

I hope you have a beautiful start to the week, remember to eat your meals and feel the sun.

Fondly,'

And that's how all the letters ended, the author seemed to hesitate every time they traced the last line, he could feel the uncertainty even on the paper. Chan knew that they were shy and always wondered when they were going to stop being to finally sign with their name and be able to meet that person who stole his heart with every word.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

He was reading the note, hunched over his things, almost shielding the contents of the paper from the prying eyes of anyone who passed by him. You knew he was going to do it (he always did) but you couldn't stop your heart from racing like it was the first time it happened. You watched him from the hallway, hiding behind one of your textbooks while a silly smile appeared on your face, nothing made you happier than making him happy with your words, it's true what people say about "butterflies in the stomach" because that was what you were feeling right now.

His eyes crinkled in the most adorable way possible every time he smiled and from your spot in the hallway you could almost hear the sigh he let out after finishing reading the letter. After scanning his surroundings one last time, Chan placed the paper back into the envelope, and carefully placed it inside his notebook.

"You and your Shakespeare complex again" The sudden voice of your best friend so close made you jump in your place and drop the book you had in your hands. It hit the ground with a dull sound due to the thickness of its contents, and when you picked up the book again you turned around to face the figure of the perpetrator. He just laughed at you and your reaction, which earned him a closed-fist blow directly to his shoulder.

"You deserve it" You didn't even bother to return his reproachful gaze since he clearly felt like fighting, and instead, you returned your focus to Chan's classroom and his figure. He was no longer in his seat and you didn't want to look weird by leaning out the window door to look for him. So you sighed heavily and leaned your body against the wall while closing your eyes.

Until you felt Jeongin's presence come to your side "Are you going to tell him sometime?"

You didn't answer him.

Well, actually you did, with a growl that could mean either 'I'll do it today, stop bothering' or 'not even dead'. However, the blonde wasn't satisfied with your interpretation of an animal as a response and he began poking your ribs with his long fingers, drawing high-pitched sounds of protest from your lips.

"Stop it, Innie" You moved his hands away from your figure and stood firmly looking him in the eyes like a mother who is trying to discipline her misbehaving son. He crossed his arms with a satisfied smile crossing his face with foxlike features and, with a movement of his head, he invited you to speak.

"What do you want me to say? 'Hello Chan! It's me, the person who has been sending you letters like a fifteen-year-old for a year now. I've been in love with you since the moment I saw you at my best friend's house. Do you want to be my boyfriend?" You rolled your eyes tiredly and didn't wait for Jeongin to tell you what he thought, and so you started walking towards your classroom, with an exasperated five foot seven boy following closely behind you.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

You still remembered the first time you'd seen him, and how couldn't you. His presence could illuminate even the darkest corner, and his personality attracted anyone around him.

It was the summer, and you'd gone to Jeongin's house to spend an afternoon together. The air conditioning in your apartment had broken two days ago, and you couldn't stand being in your room for another second, which was already beginning to feel like an industrial oven. When you arrived at your best friend's residence, you weren't surprised by the fact that there were more people than just the two of you. Jeongin was taking singing lessons at a nearby academy and had hit it off with some of his classmates; so while you didn't know them as well as he did, you had the chance to hang out with some of them a couple of times and you could say that they were the funniest guys you'd ever come across. Especially Hyunjin, who seemed to be like a glove with your best friend.

Jeongin's house felt cold, as if winter had come only for the Yang family and, although you shivered with every step you took towards the kitchen where voices could be heard, this felt like paradise compared to the hell you lived in your house (and you even thought it was cooler in hell).

Reaching the kitchen, you heard Hyunjin's melodious voice followed by his nasal, boisterous laughter at a comment Jeongin made. You shook your head laughing inwardly as you pushed the wooden door open to enter the space, the boys turning their heads in your direction as they heard the hinges snapping back into place.

Your best friend gave you his characteristic smile as he got up from his seat on one of the stools in front of the kitchen island to give you a small hug "I thought you weren't coming anymore!"

From Jeongin's shoulder you saw how Hyunjin gave you a smile and a wave, you tried to return the gesture as best you could considering that you were trapped in the arms of a boy who flatly stated that he didn't like hugs. It was getting long in your opinion, so you patted Jeongin on the back, letting him know that yes, you loved him very much, but you were still sticky with sweat from the walk in the sun and you didn't want to make him uncomfortable when he was so cool. When Jeongin let go of you, he opened his palm to introduce you to a person you hadn't seen before, "I hope you don't mind, that's Chan over there. He also goes to our academy, and he goes to university with us! Although he is a year ahead"

You smiled at Jeongin as you walked further into the kitchen to greet the new guest and in front of you stood one of the most attractive men you'd ever seen in your entire life. He wasn't very tall (you could tell even if he was sitting) but his broad shoulders gave him an intimidating presence, his hair looked messy in a swirl of brown curls, and although he was dressed from head to toe in black (you were sure his nails were painted that color too) on his face was a dimpled smile that took your breath away.

From one moment to the next you forgot how to articulate words and you felt like a fish opening and closing its mouth trying to find something to say, but your brain didn't seem to want to work.

You felt a small push on your right shoulder that took your body forward, towards the table, and towards Chan.

"How rude you are" Jeongin rolled his eyes, and although deep down you knew he was doing it to tease you, your cheeks turned red. You felt your tongue heavy in your mouth as the seconds passed and you were unable to utter a single word.

"Leave her alone, Innie. It's pretty hot outside, isn't it?" Chan's deep voice brought you out of your trance and forced you to look him in the eyes. He had a sincere smile on his face and was watching you with raised eyebrows, letting you know that he was going to listen to you when you wanted to respond.

Your heart did a complete turn in your chest, you were surprised in the best of ways at how friendly he was, the vast majority of boys with his attractiveness made that their only personality trait but he was attentive and considerate of all the people around him, even with complete strangers who hadn't stopped looking or saying anything to him in three minutes.

"Yes...yes, it's horrible! And the air conditioning in my house is broken and you can't imagine how hot it is! I feel like I'm going to die one of these days" The words came tumbling out of your mouth, since you hadn't had the time to stop and think about what exactly you wanted to say, and your nerves were playing the worst trick of your entire life.

Chan laughed again (even his laugh was pretty) and he nodded his head, not at all scared or surprised with the lexical vomit you just made.

"It must be like torture, really. You must be tired from the walk under the sun, why don't you sit down for a bit? The boys and I were planning to watch a movie" The brunette softly kicked one of the stools that were stored under the table in your direction.

You nodded shyly and took the seat he offered you, right in front of him. You left your phone on the cold marble of the table and looked around the kitchen for your best friend, you'd been surprised by the fact that he hadn't gotten into the conversation for five minutes and to be honest you desperately needed to focus on something other than Chan's penetrating gaze you felt on your face.

"Innie?" You called out to him with a small shout, loud enough for him to hear you even if he'd gone into the garden.

After a few seconds, your friend's blonde head peeked out of the left door that led to the living room, and a mischievous smile appeared on his face. "I'm sorry! Since you two were talking, we decided to go prepare things for the movie."

Jeongin paused and looked at you evilly, a look that you knew very well and that didn't give you a good feeling at all "Chan, why don't you prepare something to eat? I bought some snacks today, come when you have everything ready~" And before you could protest, he disappeared from your sight again while laughing and yelling something at Hyunjin.

You immediately tensed up and cursed Jeongin in your mind, how dare he leave you alone with your newfound crush. If he was getting revenge for the time you tried to play matchmaker and failed then he was being very childish, that'd been years ago!

While the insulting thoughts against your best friend and all his ancestors accumulated in your brain, from the corner of your eye you watched as Chan got up from his seat and went to the counter where the mentioned snacks and bowls of colors were located, apparently the prankster you called your best friend had already prepared the trap before you even arrived.

You didn't want to look weirder than you already felt so with your limbs shaking and making even the slightest of movements difficult; you also got up from your seat and slowly approached where Chan was, you stood next to him (close enough for him to know that you were willing to help but far enough not to invade his personal space).

He looked at you briefly and smiled sideways, and didn't say anything as he gently pushed a bowl towards you. The task wasn't very complicated per se, but it did become extremely difficult when the only thing you could focus on were the large, veiny hands of the boy next to you, you hadn't realized how attractive it was to see a man opening packets of potato chips and arranging them in a small container until now.

"Jeongin said we go to the same university, do you study the same as him?" You were startled by the sudden interruption of silence, you turned to look at Chan after finishing preparing the bowl with the nachos.

"Yes, I mean, no. We share some classes because some subjects are correlative in each one's career but I could never do the same as Innie" You smiled shyly and shook your head.

"I study psychology," You finally said and looked at your companion, who had his eyes open and bright like a puppy's (how could it be possible for a person to be incredibly attractive and adorable at the same time? It would have to be illegal), and you wondered what it was that'd amazed him so much, there were millions of other people studying the same thing as you.

Without meaning to, you raised an eyebrow; studying his reaction. He laughed again (it was something he loved to do, apparently) and turned his entire body towards you, resting his left hip against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's incredible, the human mind is fascinating. I understand why you study that, for my part, I wouldn't read everything you have to read even if someone paid me."

You laughed loudly, infecting Chan as well. He was doing so with his whole body, his shoulders were shaking to the rhythm of his giggles and you could notice that, from time to time, a small squeak would appear in the sound of his laughter.

When the laughter died down, you looked at him again as you put the last bag of snacks in the cupboard in front of you.

"Yes, I mean, it's a lot to read but it's like you say. I'm interested in knowing the reason for behavior, and I would like to help people in the future. Mental health is something important" This last part came out in a whisper, you weren't used to revealing the reason for your career choice, most people told you that you should have chosen something that would make you rich in twenty years.

"That's incredible, I admire you a lot" Chan said in a soft voice, and you hadn't realized how close he'd gotten until you noticed the small touch of his fingers on your arm, the color quickly rose to your cheeks again and panic took over you, making you choke up when you spoke.

"Y-yes, thank you... not many think that way" And you moved your body away from his space; maybe a little abruptly but you were sure that if you continued in that position you were going to do or say something ridiculous, you couldn't trust your ability to reason at the moment.

Chan cleared his throat at your reaction and took two bowls in his hands, starting to walk towards the living room. You hadn't realized how loudly the other two boys were talking, were you so immersed in the situation to forget the outside world? Apparently yes.

"Are you done yet? The boys must be waiting" He stopped right in front of the door, waiting for you to take what you'd prepared.

You nodded softly, and after grabbing your preparations, you followed him into the living room.

You don't really remember what happened after that, you assume you watched the movies that the boys had already chosen before you arrived. You also don't remember if you had even paid attention, probably not, because you were very focused on keeping your breathing as normal as you could since unfortunately Hyunjin and Jeongin decided to each sit in an individual chair and by coincidence the only place left to sit was in the two-seat chair that your best friend's grandmother had given to his mother at her wedding, and conveniently Chan sat there too. So as the movie played on the screen, your heart raced with every accidental brush of your arms or legs against Chan's.

The only thing you remember clearly from that moment is that you couldn't help but look at his profile, trying to memorize every detail and every peculiarity of his expressions.

The rest of the summer felt like a haze, every time you made plans with Jeongin you knew Chan was going to be there. And that did nothing to dispel the feelings that were beginning to become more present with every minute you spent in his presence.

You liked him a little too much.

His kind nature and the way he treated everyone made you dizzy every time, but you were too shy to act on your feelings and unfortunately you weren't the only one who thought Chan was a good catch. Every now and then different girls approached him to ask him out, and although he always rejected them; you couldn't help but feel a little insecure about the situation. And there was also the small problem that he confessed to you one night in Hyunjin's garden: his last relationship had been somewhat toxic, and although it ended years ago, he was deeply hurt and didn't feel ready yet to fall for someone again.

That confession left a sour taste in your mouth, so you decided not to actively act on your feelings, you really didn't want to make Chan uncomfortable or force him into something he didn't want to do, let alone ruin the friendship you were building. But something as strong as love cannot be contained, and one sleepless night you found yourself scribbling in your notebook the things you wanted to say to him, the things you liked about him, and how he made you feel when you looked at him.

You weren't thinking when you left the first envelope on his desk, it was a completely impulsive decision that you regretted the moment you left his classroom. But when you turned around to go back and throw the letter into the trash, he already found it.

At first he didn't read them, you knew because you'd overheard when he mentioned it to Hyunjin during an outing the three of you made, Chan believed that one of his friends was playing a prank on him.

And that was the last straw that broke the camel's back, although you told yourself that you weren't going to write anymore letters for the sake of your friendship and your own feelings you had to let him know (even if anonymously) that he was someone worthy of love and that he wasn't what the people in his past made him believe he was.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

Once you arrived at the classroom (miraculously before the professor, you didn't think you could endure another lecture and there were still three more hours before leaving the university) you sat down in your respective seat by the window. The day was really beautiful, and from your place you could see the large patio where the entire student body went to relax between classes, it was your favorite place in the entire building and at this moment you wanted nothing more than to be leaning against a tree feeling the warm sunlight on your face.

"I'm not saying you have to tell him that but don't you think it's been too long already?" Jeongin didn't seem to want to drop the topic for today, he'd gotten up from his seat taking advantage of the fact that there was still no sign of the teacher and sat at your table, almost knocking all the things that were on top of it to the floor. You rested your head on the bench and waved a hand in the air, brushing it off in an attempt to say 'leave me alone already'.

Your best friend snorted exasperatedly, "You really are a special case, you've been in love with him for a year, for God's sake."

At the boy's aggressive tone of voice, you took your head off the table and looked at him with a frown. He looked back at you like he always did: challenging and forcing you to speak for yourself.

"It's not as easy as you say, Jeongin" You spat angrily.

"For all I know, if he finds out, he could throw my stupid letters in the trash and confessing would not only make me look weird but it would also ruin the friendship we have" You lowered your face, feeling a little sad "And the last thing I would like to do is lose him"

Jeongin’s expression softened as he realized the depth of your anxiety, and he reached out to place a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I get it, I really do. You don't want to jeopardize what you have but you deserve happiness too, you know? Maybe it's time to take a risk."

“I don’t even think I have a chance” You sighed, feeling defeated.

Jeongin moved closer and lowered his voice conspiratorially, "You may have more possibilities than you think, but sometimes you have to give destiny a little push."

You raised an eyebrow at his choice of words and just as you were about to question him further, the professor made an appearance in the classroom ordering everyone to take their respective seats and apologizing for the delay. Your best friend flashed you a bright smile with his trademark dimples and snuck over to his table, effectively ending the conversation and leaving you wondering what he meant for the rest of the day.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

If Jeongin's plan was for you to not sleep for a week, then he'd achieved it. His words had been spinning through your head like a whirlpool that seemed to have no end. You knew that he'd been friends with the brunette for a longer time than you, but were they close enough that the youngest knew the secrets inside Chan's heart?

Or was he giving you the advice that all friends gave to their other friends desperate to believe in the illusion that the person they like reciprocates their feelings? No, Jeongin wouldn't do that, he was too honest for his own good and besides you'd known each other longer (your mothers said you were born to be friends). So did that mean there really was a chance?

No, of course not, that was ridiculous.

You shook your head in an attempt to get rid of those thoughts as you rang the doorbell at Hyunjin's house. Your group had agreed to meet to study and you needed to have a clear mind, the exams were around the corner and you couldn't afford to keep your brain preoccupied thinking about something that would never happen.

The minutes passed slowly as you waited for the homeowner, and while you were thinking about ringing the doorbell again fearing that the boys inside hadn't heard you, the door suddenly opened, and nothing could have prepared you to see the person who has been living rent free in your mind, you knew he would be there, but you didn't expect to face him so quickly.

"Hey, you arrived just in time, Hyunjin's mom just brought us some drinks" Chan was his usual self, with his beautiful smile plastered on his face and his relaxed attitude.

You blinked once, twice, three times before you managed a small forced smile and responded, "Oh, great, thanks," and you stood there in silence, unable to look him in the eyes.

Chan tilted his head in silent question at your attitude, "Is everything okay?"

His concern for your well-being was evident in his voice and he struck a chord in your heart. You looked at him briefly, meeting his gaze for a fleeting moment and nodded, still struggling to find your voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You finally responded, trying to sound casual despite the jumble of emotions inside you.

Chan's friendly demeanor never wavered as he led you into the house, you followed him with a notable distance between your bodies and so when you arrived at the living room where the boys were already seated with open textbooks and a monstrous amount of things to eat you almost ran to sit next to Jeongin, an attitude that didn't go unnoticed by the blonde, who looked at you with his eyebrows raised in a telepathic question.

Meanwhile, Chan didn't take his eyes off you as he sat next to Hyunjin on the couch in front of where you and your best friend were.

The afternoon went by slowly, too slowly for your liking, you'd gone with all the desire to study and get your mind out of the anxiety that was consuming you, but that attempt had been futile.

Although your gaze remained glued to your notes and your blue highlighter (which hadn't highlighted anything in the last hour, you'd read the same paragraph five times without getting a clue of what it was trying to say) you felt how two eyes were burning holes in your figure. The room was suffocatingly silent, and you were sure that your irregular breathing was evident to the entire group; your nerves were so on edge that when your best friend's voice filled the void you almost jumped in your place.

"I'm tired, how about we take a break?"Jeongin raised his arms towards the ceiling, stretching his back and then collapsing gracelessly against the soft cushions of the sofa.

Hyunjin nodded while massaging his neck, stiff after so many hours of looking down at his notes and reading "I thought no one was going to say it, I was going crazy."

Chan didn't say anything, he just closed his notebooks and imitated Jeongin in his relaxed pose against the couch. You felt out of place when the boys started chatting about meaningless things to lighten the atmosphere.

You only nodded when you felt your input was necessary, or laughed when you thought that was the reaction you should have but you didn't speak, because in fact, you weren't sure you were going to say anything coherent or at least make your voice louder than a whisper, so you decided that the best course of action was to stay quiet.

If the boys noticed it, they didn't say anything, and you couldn't be more grateful for it.

"You know" Chan interrupted the laughter of the other two boys after a not-so-funny story told by Hyunjin.

Everyone focused their attention on him, the tone of voice he'd used was more serious than his usual; so serious that it forced you to look up for the first time since the recess began and you found Chan's brown eyes looking directly at you, doing it so intensely that you thought he was staring right into your soul.

You held your breath, but you weren't prepared for what he said next.

"My secret admirer hasn't written to me in a few days" He was still looking at you, but there was something strange hidden in his irises, something you couldn't decipher.

Silence once again took over Hyunjin's living room, and the tension could be cut with a knife, it almost seemed like time had stopped when the brunette pronounced the last syllable. Your mouth felt dry, and your palms began to sweat. The weight of his words floated in the air and a thousand thoughts passed through your mind, each one more disconcerting than the last.

Hyunjin snorted, and looked maliciously at Chan "Maybe they are tired of you."

His mocking comment broke the heavy silence like thunder. Jeongin joined in with a playful smile, taking the opportunity to tease Chan mercilessly. “Maybe your secret admirer found someone else,” he joked, his tone light and teasing, “Or maybe they are just playing hard to get.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, wanting to burst while the boys laughed at Chan's expense while he, in response, rolled his eyes and smiled sarcastically at the jokes that his friends kept saying, he also looked at you from time to time making your discomfort even more evident.

You desperately searched for words to contribute to the conversation, your voice choked by the rising anxiety. But as Jeongin and Hyunjin's playful teasing continued, you remained silent, feeling like a bystander in a conversation that was becoming more cryptic by the second. Chan's gaze never left you, and despite the teasing, there was something in his eyes that betrayed a deeper understanding. His comment felt like a puzzle piece falling into place, yet you couldn't put your finger on what he truly knew.

As the laughter subsided, the room descended into an awkward silence once more, and then Chan finally spoke up, his tone more subdued than before. "Well, whoever it is," he began, his eyes still locked on yours, "I hope they know they've brightened my days with their letters."

The comment hung in the air, carrying a weight that seemed to pull everyone into its gravity. Jeongin and Hyunjin exchanged glances, their playful demeanor suddenly giving way to something more conspiracy.

You, on the other hand, felt an overwhelming mix of emotions. The anxiety that'd been building throughout the day reached a crescendo. You wanted to say something, to respond in some way, but the words caught in your throat.

Hyunjin broke the silence once more, this time with a touch of sincerity in his voice. "Whoever they are," he said, "they must really care about you, man." Jeongin nodded in agreement, and the room seemed to shift, it was a subtle transformation, but one that you couldn't help but notice.

Chan smiled, a genuine one that reached his eyes. "Yeah," he admitted, "They do mean a lot to me."

You desperately needed a moment to collect your thoughts and emotions after that serious conversation, so you mumbled something about getting a drink from the kitchen, excusing yourself with a weak smile and slowly, you retreated from the living room, the voices of the boys fading as you put some distance between you and the group.

In the dimly lit kitchen, you leaned against the countertop, your heart still racing from the tension in the room. The realization that Chan cherished those anonymous letters hit you like a ton of bricks. You'd never imagined how much they meant to him.

Just as you were lost in thought, the sound of footsteps behind you made you jump. You turned to find Chan standing there, a serious yet gentle expression on his face. His presence seemed to fill the room with warmth, and your anxiety ratcheted up another notch.

"Hey," he said softly, "You okay?"

You nodded, unable to form words an he took a step closer, his gaze never left yours.

Chan's brown eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world had frozen around you. You couldn't contain the thoughts racing through your mind any longer. With a trembling voice, you finally asked the question that'd been gnawing at you.

"Do you know who's been sending those letters?"

Chan's expression remained calm, but you could see a glimmer of something in his eyes, a hint of knowing. He didn't answer immediately, instead, he stepped closer, narrowing the distance between you.

His voice was soft as he replied, "I have a feeling I might have a clue."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you searched his face for more hints. What did he mean by 'a clue'? It was clear he was being deliberately vague, and it only added to your curiosity.

"But," he continued, "I'd like to hear it from you. Tell me, do you know who it is?"

You hesitated, the weight of the truth pressing down on you. The walls between you and Chan seemed to dissolve, and the vulnerability in his eyes was mirrored in your own. With a shaky breath, you summoned the courage to speak, your voice quivering with fear and anticipation.

"It's me."

The admission hung in the air, heavy and uncertain. You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, your eyes locked on the floor as you waited for his reaction. The seconds felt like hours as you replayed all the letters, and the emotions you'd poured into them.

Chan's silence stretched, and the tension in the room became palpable. Your heart raced, and you feared the worst — rejection, awkwardness, or even laughter.

Then, he reached out, gently lifting your chin with his fingers, forcing you to look into his eyes. The warmth and kindness in his gaze melted away your fears.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice soft and sincere. "I've cherished every single one."

As tears welled up in your eyes, Chan reached out to gently wipe them away with his thumb. He pulled you into a comforting embrace, holding you close as your emotions overwhelmed you. You couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and they flowed freely as you nestled into his embrace. He whispered soothing words, his voice a balm to your soul, reassuring you that everything would be okay.

After a moment of shared comfort, you pulled away slightly, looking up at him with curiosity. "But how did you know it was me?" you finally asked, your voice still trembling.

Chan smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face, a knowing twinkle in his eye, and replied, "I had my suspicions, especially after some of the things you wrote. But what really gave it away was your handwriting."

You blinked in surprise.

Handwriting? You hadn't considered that, no, haven't even thought about it when you started this a year ago, and to be honest you felt a little dumb.

Chan continued, "I recognized your handwriting from a birthday card you gave me a while back. It was similar to the writing in the letters. And then, well, I saw you looking at me during our hangouts, and it all just started to make sense."

You blushed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief. It seemed like you'd left more clues than you thought. But instead of feeling exposed, you felt a strange sense of comfort knowing that he'd noticed your feelings all along.

With a shy smile, you said, "I guess I'm not very good at hiding my feelings, am I?"

Chan chuckled softly. "No, but that's okay. I'm glad you told me."

As you gazed into Chan's eyes, you noticed something change in his expression. The initial surprise and curiosity gave way to a more tender, understanding look. He cupped your face gently, his touch warm and reassuring.

"You know," he began softly, "I've always appreciated those letters. They made me feel special, like someone out there truly understood me. And I never wanted to pressure you into revealing yourself," Chan continued. "I wanted you to do it when you were ready."

"I was just afraid," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "Afraid of what you might think, of how it might change things between us."

Chan's thumb traced small circles on your cheek as he reassured you, "Don't be. This doesn't change how I feel about what we have. If anything, it makes it even more special."

A tear escaped from the corner of your eye, but this time, it wasn't a tear of anxiety or fear. It was a tear of relief, of happiness. You leaned into Chan's touch, and he leaned closer, his eyes locked on yours, and before you knew it, his lips met yours in a soft, gentle kiss. The world seemed to melt away as your lips met his, you felt the warmth of his body against yours, and the sensation sent shivers down your spine. His hands cradled your face, holding you gently but firmly, as if he never wanted to let you go.

The taste of his lips was sweet and comforting, like a warm embrace on a cold winter's day, you could feel the steady beat of Chan's heart, matching the rhythm of your own. The world around you disappeared, and there was only the two of you.

And just as you were lost in that sweet moment, the kitchen door burst open, and in walked your friends, their playful banter filling the room while wearing grins so wide they threatened to split their faces. Jeongin couldn't help but tease you, waggling his eyebrows playfully. "Well, well, looks like someone finally got the courage to make a move!"

Hyunjin joined in with a mock-sympathetic tone. "And here we thought we'd have to wait another century for this to happen!"

You blushed furiously, pulling away from Chan who chuckled in amusement, still holding you close. "You guys have impeccable timing," he remarked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Jeongin winked at you, "Hey! We're just glad we won't have to hear you two mooning over each other anymore."

#stray kids fluff #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz soft thoughts #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #bri writes

884 notes · View notes

miekasa · 3 years

Text

break up with your boyfriend, i’m bored

+ pairings: um… armin x reader…. but, spotlight on jean—just... read it to understand, please

+ genres and warnings: college au what’s new, fluff… you’re just going to have to work with me and trust me on this one alright

+ notes: free colt he ain’t do nothing wrong i just needed someone outside of their immediate friend group to blame i am so sorry justice for my boy colt and falco too

+ more notes: longer levi fic still in progress, so have jean thee comedian in the meantime

“I think I have a crush on someone.”

Jean crosses his arms and makes it a point to huff even louder than before so that you can accurately assess his annoyance at moment; going so far as to slump back into your not so comfortable couch to really sell it.

“And that is why you manhandled me all the way to your apartment on a Tuesday afternoon?” he asks, voice flat and eyes hooded.

You groan and roll your eyes. Jean’s eyebrows are pinched together with more judgement than confusion at your current state of distress when you sit next to him on the sofa, a knee bent in his direction.

“Jeanie, I don’t think you’re understanding the severity of my issue.”

“You’re right, I’m not,” he drawls, “But, please, do enlighten me. It’s not like I have an essay to write or anything.”

“I have a crush,” you reiterate, hands mapping out every syllable in your sentence, “On someone who is not my boyfriend.”

“I see,” he nods, but his voice remains flat, “And, pray tell, what exactly is my role in all of this?”

“You’re supposed to use your philosophical psychoanalytical bullshit to tell me what’s wrong with me and how to fix it.”

“Philosophy and psychology are two different disciplines.”

“They sound the same to me.”

“That’s because you’re a single-celled chem major.”

“I think it takes more than a single cell to study chem.”

“Oh, is that what they tell you guys, now?”

“You’re not fucking helping.”

“Yes, I am,” he tuts, “It’s called talk therapy.”

“It sounds like you’re just taking shots at me.”

“Best friend talk therapy allows for a few digs here and there.”

“Jean,” you pinch his arm. He flinches, and yelps loudly, immediately raising the affected arm to counter with a flick to the center of your forehead. You glare, the palm of your left hand covering the sting on your skin, but concede, “Well played.”

“Thank you,” he nods, “I learned from the best.”

“Okay, now that you’ve gotten your ego boost for the day, can we worry about my problem, please.”

He shrugs, crossing resting his left ankle atop his right knee, “Sure.”

“Thank you.”

“What exactly is the problem, again?”

You sigh, and lean your head on Jean’s shoulder, “I have a boyfriend—”

“We’ve been over that.”

“—and the person I have a crush on is not my boyfriend.”

“Okay,” he pauses, “Are you going to do anything about this crush?”

“Well, I… no,” you ponder, “I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” he repeats, “So, then why are you so worked up about it?”

“Because!... Because… I don’t know, it’s… wrong? I’m in a relationship with someone else—isn’t this, like, emotional cheating?”

“Maybe,” he says, “I don’t know a whole lot about relationship psychology.”

“Come on, Jean.”

He sighs, “I’m serious, I don’t know, (_____).”

You whine, sounds muffled by the fabric of Jean’s sweater where your cheek lay pressed against his shoulder. “I’m a horrible person, aren’t I?”

“You’re not, stop it,” Jean answers firmly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “You’re not horrible for having emotions that are difficult to work through.”

“Okay, then, I’m just a horrible girlfriend.”

“Maybe.”

“Jean.”

“Sorry,” he winces, patting your head for extra encouragement. It’s meant to be comforting, but it makes you feel like a patronized six-year-old, at best. It’s quiet for a while, with you mulling over Jean’s words, and him trying to pull you into the worst side hug in all of existence.

“Do you think,” you break the silence, “Maybe I should I break up with him?”

“Yes,” his answer comes too quickly, and much too enthusiastically.

You lift your head from his shoulder, unamused, but Jean doesn’t even try to hide the glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“You’re just saying that because you don’t like him.”

“No,” he pauses when he catches glimpse of the disbelief on your face, “Okay, yes, I don’t like him. At all.”

“Jean—”

“But maybe this is your subconscious telling you that you don’t like him either, and that you should, instead, go after your crush.”

“Oh, so now you want to use your psychobullshit on me?”

“If it means I don’t have to pretend to like Colt anymore, then yes,” he replies, a stupid, shit-eating grin on his lips.

You scoff, arms crossed against your chest, “You don’t even pretend to like him now.”

Jean shrugs, “I pretend to like him to his face.”

“No, you don’t,” you insist, “You’re probably the worst at it, in fact.”

“I’m not worse than Connie.”

“You called him an asshole. To his face.”

“Connie poured tequila on him.”

“Connie was drunk. You were completely sober.”

“Connie would have done it sober and you know it.”

You open your mouth to refuse, but the words fall silent in your throat. Connie probably would have done it sober. “Okay, fine, whatever, you don’t like him,” you wave away the subject, “Do you really think this crush is my subconscious telling me to break up with him, though? I mean—it’s just, crushes are kind of fleeting right?”

“Sure, but—”

“What if I break up with him, and then I get over my crush, and realize I made a mistake.”

“Then you learn and grow, and find a new crush.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” he insists, “You’re beating yourself up pretty bad over this mystery guy—”

“—It could be a girl.”

“Is it a girl? Oh, is it Mikasa? Are you still hung up over her—you know I’m sure she’d make out with you asked. I think you both could relieve a lot of tension that way, actually.”

“You’re the worst person to walk this planet, you know that?” you sneer, annoyed by the smug grin on Jean’s face. So what if you had a tiny crush on Mikasa? Most people did, Jean included.

“Look,” Jean continues, “You and I both know you’re not a cheater, but you and I also know you’re just like Eren when it comes to things like this.”

“Just like Eren?”

“Falls too fast, too hard,” he clarifies, “I get the feeling you’ve had these feelings for a while, and that they’re not fleeting.”

You pout, and Jean knows that he’s right. “Okay, so say I do break up with Colt—”

“Which you should do, regardless.”

“—If we break up, then what? I still won’t know what to do with my left over grief. It’s not like I can just... go ask this guy out right away.”

“Yes, you can,” Jean presses, “In fact, you should.”

“No, I can’t,” you insist.

“Why not?”

“Well for one, I’ll look like a heartless whore.”

“You’re not a heartless whore for asking a guy out.”

“I am if I do it right after breaking up with my boyfriend.”

“Your internalized misogyny is showing,” he sing-songs, “Come on, you’re not a whore for doing what you want with a guy, you know that.”

“Okay, fine, not a whore, whatever,” you roll your eyes, “But I still couldn’t ask him out.”

“It’s the twenty first century, just because you’re a girl doesn’t mean you can’t ask him—”

“Not because of that, dumb goose,” you glare, “I meant because—it’s, well, it’d be really sudden and kind of… awkward?”

“It’s not like he’d know you just broke up with someone, unless that’s one of your conversation starters.”

You sigh, a hand on your forehead. “Yes, he would, Jean.”

“How could he possibly—oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mock, a heavy sigh leaving your chest as you resume your previous sulking position, head leaning against his shoulder with your right cheek squished against his sweater.

“(_____), I’m honored, but you’re not really my type. I’d be willing to help you get over him though.”

“It’s not you, you fucking long-necked pigeon, it’s Arm—,” you cut yourself short, hands clamped over your own mouth.

“Oh my god!” Jean all but screams, propelling his body away from you with just enough distance to extend his arm, finger pointing directly at your chest, “You like Armin!”

“Shut up!”

“You have a crush on Armin!”

“Shut up, Jean!”

“You have a big, fat crush on Armin!”

“Shut up! I said shut up, you pasty fucking giraffe looking ass bitch!”

“Oh my—okay, you have to break up with Colt, immediately,” Jean rushes, “I can’t believe this—if you think Armin wouldn’t go out with you, then you really do have the intelligence of a single celled organism.”

“What in the ever loving fuck are you talking about.”

“We’re talking about the same Armin, right? Armin Arlert, about this tall,” Jean raises his hand significantly lower than Armin’s actual height, “Studies astrophysics, follows you around like a lap dog—”

“He does not,” you scoff.

Jean guffaws, “Didn’t he take you on a tour of, like… the NASA museum for your birthday? With the super high-tech planetarium that people die to get into?”

“Actually, it was their headquarters, but it’s only because he gets special privileges for being an intern.”

“Didn’t he name a star after you?”

“Anyone can name a star after anyone,” you roll your eyes, “It’s really not that hard.”

“People do not fucking go to NASA and ask for stars for just anyone!” Jean screeches, hands flailing wildly.

“Armin does!”

“Yeah, for you!” Jean emphasizes, “Come on, do you think if anybody else called him right now and asked him to get a star in their name, or even just fucking take them to headquarters of the most renowned space organization in the country, that he would actually do it?”

“I mean, maybe, if like… Eren asked.”

Jean opens his mouth to refute, but freezes half way with a head-tilt and pursed lips. “Okay, yeah, maybe—whatever, doesn’t matter. What matters is that you need to tell him.”

“I don’t need to tell him shit.”

“You’re seriously choosing Colt over Armin? Who willingly stays with some greasy prick with the world’s most annoying younger brother, over a handsome, straight-A astrophysics student with a penchant for marine biology, and, like, really clear skin.”

“Oh, wow. I didn’t know Bertholdt was studying astro.”

“I wasn’t talking about Bertholdt.”

“It sounded like you were talking about Bertholdt.”

“I mean, Bertholdt’s got great skin, but it’s no where near as clear as Armin’s. He glows.”

It’s quiet again, as you eye Jean with a raised brow that’s all too familiar. “Are we sure that you’re not the one with the crush on Armin?”

“Shut up, you’re avoiding the point.”

“What’s the point, exactly?”

“That you’re in love with Armin, who is miles better than your current boy toy, so you should ask him out immediately.”

“I have a boyfriend, not a boy toy.”

“Ah ha!” he yells, “You didn’t deny that you’re in love with him—oh my god, you’re in love with Armin!”

He’s standing now, practically bouncing off the the walls at the revelation. You take to smacking him with the nearest pillow. “I’m not in love with him! I just—just really like him, okay!”

“Very convincing.”

“Shut the hell up, you’ve been pining after you know who for seven eons at this point.”

“You bitch,” he growls, “We’re not supposed to bring him up.”

“Well, you keep bringing up Armin!”

“We never established that Armin was on the list of he’s who shall not be named.”

“Well I vote that he should be.”

“Your vote has been vetoed,” he grins, “Look, I’m completely serious when I say that Armin is just as in love with you as you deny you are with him.”

“That sentence hurt my head,” you pout, resuming your signature brooding position.

“It’s okay, your single brain cell has been through a lot in the past fifteen minutes,” he pats your head again, earning him a glare that he simply chuckles at, “All it means is that you love Armin, and I assure you that he’s equally, if not more, in love with you.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so. Now, up, up, up,” he tuts, pulling at your biceps until you’re standing, only to immediately start ushering you to the door, “You have a shitty boyfriend to go break up with.”

“What—Jean, come on, I didn’t mean right now!” you exclaim; but he’s stronger than he looks, and continues to propel your body out of the open door.

“No time to waste!” he insists, “Every hour you stay with Colt you lose another brain cell.”

“I thought I only had one to begin with,” you say, sarcasm evident in your tone.

It makes Jean’s grin triple, “Exactly, so go, not another hour to waste!”

“Jean, wait, I—,” you begin, only to be silenced by the silver door shutting in your face. The lock clicks soon after, and it’s only then you realized what he’s done.

“You knobby kneed bitch, this is my apartment!”

#aot x reader #snk x reader #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #armin x reader #armin arlet x reader #jean smut #eren smut #armin smut #eren x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines

549 notes · View notes

tossawary · 3 years

Note

I need to know more about “SVSSS - Baby Brother Liu Qingge” bc I love tiny and very deadly baby LQG

I have a 3k-ish Shang Qinghua POV that was supposed to be the introduction to this fic concept! So... ah... baby Liu Qingge does not appear in this, but you can see the setup for how an 8yo-ish Liu Qingge was supposed to be introduced. My hope is that this will someday become a "Shang Qinghua and Shen Jiu go on a mission with Baby Brother Liu Qingge" one shot.

-cut-

Shang Qinghua didn't really have the words to describe what it was like having Proud Immortal Demon Way's characters finally come into his second life.

He didn't have the words to describe a lot of his transmigration experience, honestly! His words had described a lot of this world already, haha, hadn't they? Sometimes a person just had to put up with it and keep going.

And then excuse himself later to go scream into a pillow! Many times!

At first, life was just him in a body that didn't fit and strange memories that slipped between his fingers like sand. His memories of a past life had settled eventually, the System finally came fully online, and his relationship with his second family was fully fucked forever. That was fine, though! That was fine! With some unsolicited prodding from his System, he left to go seek his fortune soon enough and he never had to talk to his character's birth parents or siblings again.

But Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had never said much of anything about Shang Qinghua’s family or home village, besides saying that the man had dreamed of more than his mediocre origins, so everything had been unfamiliar and original and real. Getting to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, which he had described in great detail, was a real headfuck. There were no words for the experience of recognizing things that he’d written in another life.

He saw the glistening rainbow bridge and the intimidating sect entrance and the majestic meeting hall on Qiong Ding, and he nearly screamed. He definitely squawked. His vision got really fuzzy for a minute there and he had to sit down on the ground before he fell over. What the fuck?! What the fuck?! He’d made a world! The System had really made a world out of his web-novel! He was really stuck in Proud Immortal Demon Way!

There were upsides and downsides to joining Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. Downsides included: the hard training, the harder workload, the dangerous missions, the disrespect towards An Ding Peak, and being surrounded by arrogant and foolish teenagers looking to look down on someone. It was really something else to look some of them in the eye and think, "Bro, I don’t know your name, but you kind of owe your existence to me. Could you stop being such a fucking asshole about leaving your chores for me to do?! Respect your father!"

Upsides included: actually becoming a cultivator (pretty cool, even though the work of cultivation sucked more often than not), better living accommodations and food, and actually getting to see some of the cooler places, plants, monsters, and magic that were a part of his world. Sure, carting a monster corpse brought in by Bai Zhan Peak to Xi Jiao Peak for butchering was smelly and heavy and altogether miserable, but seeing an impossible animal was still kind of incredible. If this unwilling Shang Qinghua could stop being pushed around and stepped on long enough to appreciate the upsides, he’d really appreciate it!

It was interesting and infuriating to log the differences between what he’d imagined, what he’d written, and what the System had created. What sort of author described every single object in every single room? Who had time for that? Who wanted to read that? The System had filled in all the living details of An Ding Peak - the Leisure Houses, the training grounds, the storehouses, the warehouses, the kitchens, the lesson halls, the leisure gardens, the farming fields, the livestock fields, the stables, the cart lot, the water supply, the sewage systems, and so on - so that people could actually live here. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky as an author had done many things worthy of complaint and criticism, but wasting his readers’ time with sewage systems was not one of them!

The System had also filled in all the little details and decorations - the paintings on the walls of sect history, the detailing on the rooftops supposedly offering protections from dream demons, the chipped and faded paint of old storehouses that disciples would be tasked with replacing, the statues in the fields to scare off scavengers, the carvings on the doors meant to reduce resentful energy, the childish etchings of bored students the surface of the lesson hall desks, the old bench where the An Ding Peak Lord liked to sit and eat flatcakes - so that it really seemed like people had built this place and maintained it and added to it for generations.

Shang Qinghua had his quibbles here and there. Sometimes the System had made choices that he objected to! He would have done it differently if it had asked him, the author, to contribute. He really felt as though the System should have asked him to clarify the plot holes and the gaps in detail, instead of choosing precedence randomly or building off random implications taken way too literally.

Sometimes he found out that the System had built things out of throwaway lines that Shang Qinghua himself had completely forgotten about. It turned out that Ku Xing Peak made a lot of purification tools and containment vessels because Airplane had offhandedly mentioned that this was their specialty, and now Shang Qinghua had to cart around delicate ceramics to be sold to city merchants or other cultivation sects. He never would have dared to write that if he’d known that it would one day in another life be his job to do things like take inventory and chase down signatures for successful deliveries.

Places, items, and creatures were one thing, but logging the differences between the people he met and the characters he’d created was something else. At first it was okay, because he was surrounded by nameless An Ding Peak nobodies - his fellow disciples, their teachers, the hardworking managers and merchants, even the peak lord - none of them had ever mattered in Proud Immortal Demon Way. If Airplane had been the one to name any of them, he didn’t recognize the names or remember them.

Then he met Yue Qingyuan.

Wow, it was a worse headfuck than first arriving at Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, when Shang Qinghua finally realized that this was the young version of one of his actual characters. It took him a minute. As a lowly outer disciple, Shang Qinghua hadn’t received “Qinghua” as a name yet (his name was Houhua, not that anyone ever used it) and the future Yue Qingyuan was still called Yue Qi.

Shang Qinghua was fourteen at the time. Yue Qingyuan must have been around the same age, so he didn’t strike the tall and handsome figure of the sect leader Airplane had described. The boy was broad, but actually a little short. He had freckles. He had acne.

But he also had a warm smile that seemed to go all the way to his eyes when he offered to give Shang Qinghua directions to the right office on Qiong Ding. He had a steady hand when he helped Shang Qinghua up, after the An Ding disciple had suddenly tripped over nothing upon being introduced. Yue Qingyuan - Yue Qi - walked him to the right office and did his best to make small talk, friendly and kind even though Shang Qinghua was having difficulty stringing more than a few words together in his shock.

Even then, it was obvious that the boy was developing the calm surety and the social charm that would make him a greatly admired sect leader someday! It was all Shang Qinghua could do not to blurt out: “Holy shit, you’re REAL?!” Which would be closely followed by: “Hey, is Shen Qingqiu really real too?!” And then maybe closely followed by: “FUCK!!!”

As the years went by, Shang Qinghua met more of Proud Immortal Demon Way’s characters, and it was weird every time. None of them were exactly like he was expecting. He kept expecting… well… he kept expecting them to look like the fanart, like flawless character models, more or less. Instead, he kept getting… people.

Wei Qingwei, head disciple of the sword-focused Wan Jian Peak, was also shorter than he was expecting, kind of stout, with a wide face and a wider smile. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had apparently had the man crack a few jokes upon his rare appearances in the web-novel, usually during tense situations, as he was reminded by the System upon thinking to himself: “Why is this guy LIKE THIS?!” So, because of just a few lines, the real Wei Qingwei had a relentless sense of humor and loved telling jokes.

Upon their first meeting, when Shang Qinghua was fifteen and had been sent over to help renovate some Wan Jian dormitories, fifteen-year-old Wei Qingwei had pretended to fumble a sword and, using a packet of dye and a sleight of hand, made it look like he’d accidentally cut off his own hand at the wrist. Of course Shang Qinghua had screamed and panicked! Anyone would panic! But Wei Qingwei had laughed at him and said, “Got you! Shang-Shidi, the sword wasn’t even unsheathed!” Asshole!

Qi Qingqi, the head disciple of Xian Shu Peak, was much taller than he was expecting. Apparently Airplane had once described a group of some of the peak lords by saying something like: “Each one of them was like a giant to young Luo Binghe.” That group had included Qi Qingqi. The System apparently had taken that to mean that Qi Qingqi was of a height with the likes of Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu. Shang Qinghua discovered this adaptational choice when he was almost sixteen, when this giraffe-like girl came to An Ding Peak to complain about an order someone along the pipeline had dropped completely, and he accidentally found himself (still waiting on a really good growth spurt) eye-level with Qi Qingqi’s chest.

Airplane had apparently once said in Proud Immortal Demon Way that Qian Cao Peak Lord Mu Qingfang appeared a little older than his colleagues, by which he’d probably meant that the man was just tired or something, but this head disciple Mu Qingfang appeared to have ten years on all the other head disciples. Which was good! Shang Qinghua approved of their future head healer not being a teenager and having more training!

On the bad side of things, Airplane had also once said in Proud Immortal Demon Way that the Zui Xian Peak Lord Zhang Qingyan liked his drink too much. This was the peak specializing in alcohol, so it had seemed to make sense! It was supposed to be funny, if anything! Well, at sixteen, Shang Qinghua found out that the System had focused too much on the “too much” part of that statement and now the head disciple of Zui Xian Peak was pretty clearly a budding alcoholic. (Sometimes a cultivator’s constitution and ability to “cure” themselves just… made a person drink more. A lot more.) Which was… not good.

At seventeen, Shang Qinghua met Mobei-Jun.

He didn’t know where to get started with Mobei-Jun.

Somehow he’d… forgotten that Mobei-Jun had been originally based on Airplane’s idea of “the perfect man” and not the super pretty, muscular but slim-waisted protagonist type? The real Mobei-Jun was… tall… and big… and thick. Mobei-Jun’s intimidating features were… more striking than pretty. The first time Shang Qinghua had come back to his Leisure House and found this spoiled brat of an ice demon napping shirtless on his bed, and gotten an eyeful of all that heavy muscle and chest hair, he’d nearly knocked himself out on the doorframe trying to turn away before he had a heart attack.

Mobei-Jun really was going to be the death of him, holy shit.

Especially because this ice demon really was a spoiled brat! Airplane had described this character as being arrogant and apathetic, so now Shang Qinghua had to deal with a Mobei-Jun who took long baths and then carelessly dripped water all over the floor and all over fresh sheets! Who ate all of Shang Qinghua’s cooking and ungratefully only demanded more food, sprawled over furniture not really fit for someone of his size, and then watched Shang Qinghua like a fat tiger! Ahhh, this demon really was lucky he was handsome!

Mobei-Jun was also kind of violent, and mean, which was… well, it sucked.

Back to the sect that Shang Qinghua was now actively betraying, however, as far as he could see, there was still one future peak lord missing.

It wasn’t Shen Qingqiu, who Shang Qinghua had thought would be the last one to show up. Shen Qingqiu had shown up and had been advancing through the ranks of Qing Jing Peak before Shang Qinghua had even met Mobei-Jun, which meant that Yue Qingyuan had finally stopped looking like someone had torn out his soul. (Shang Qinghua had been forced to grit his teeth every time that someone mentioned how privileged that Yue Qingyuan was to have been granted that year of secluded cultivation in the Lingxi Caves at such a young age.)

No, of all the peak lords, it was Liu Qingge who Shang Qinghua had yet to meet.

After meeting Mobei-Jun and becoming an inner disciple, the System had given Shang Qinghua three years to make it to head disciple, probably because the deadline for a new generation of peak lords to ascend was fast approaching. He was working hard to achieve that! Not only did he have to sabotage the current favorite, but he had to make sure all his own training, missions, work, and research were as close to flawless as he could get it! All while keeping an intruding ice demon happy! He wasn’t totally sure that he was going to make it at this rate, even though he’d been here for years.

So it was a little concerning that Liu Qingge hadn't shown up yet. There was so much left to do. A world-state that had yet to be established. Liu Qingge had work to do here!

Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu still had to develop a hatred for each other as disciples that would extend to everyone believing that Shen Qingqiu had murdered Liu Qingge as peak lords, after all. Granted, all Liu Qingge really had to do was beat everyone else on Bai Zhan Peak up to obtain the position, and it wasn’t exactly hard to get Shen Qingqiu to develop a lifelong grudge, but the guy was still cutting it pretty close.

It was possible that Liu Qingge was already on Bai Zhan Peak and making good progress, but that he was just so solitary and focused on searching out the next big battle that Shang Qinghua had just never had the opportunity to meet him. Shang Qinghua did his best to avoid Bai Zhan Peak most of the time, honestly! He was curious about where Liu Qingge was, about what the man looked like, but he didn’t let himself sweat at not seeing the future war god, when he already had so many things to sweat about. The System had taken care of bringing in everyone else, so Shang Qinghua was sure that Liu Qingge would follow sooner or later.

Shang Qinghua’s first sign that something was wrong was that, on the day that Liu Qingge finally announced his existence by beating up everyone on Bai Zhan Peak, everyone was saying things like, “I can’t believe some kid managed to topple all of Bai Zhan like that!”

He… may or may not have ignored this sign.

To be fair to this poor writer-turned-disciple, though, he’d been up all night finishing some paperwork catastrophe the An Ding Peak Lord had thrown at him to fix, as some kind of “test” of his logistics skills. Upon hearing the latest gossip, Shang Qinghua thought, “Oh, finally?” And then his overtired brain collapsed from the effort of thinking two words together in a sentence, and all he could manage from there was to feel the intense need to go to bed at a maximum, static-y volume. No words. No more thinky thoughts. Just the need for speedy sleep.

He stumbled through the rest of his day and then passed out for 18 hours straight. In hindsight, this would have been the time when the gossip was at its hottest. He missed all of it.

When he woke up, everyone was still dealing with the aftermath of what had happened on Bai Zhan Peak, but the conversation had shifted more towards replacing Qian Cao Peak’s depleted supplies and the repairs to Bai Zhan’s training grounds. Liu Qingge was the name on everyone’s lips, still, but everyone knew the basic information now. Now, everyone was just exclaiming over and over again how unbelievably young (and pretty) he was to have bested every other disciple on the sect battle-focused peak. This didn't seem too strange.

The System probably would have based the War God's appearance on his sister, Liu Mingyan, a strong contender for the most beautiful woman in all of Proud Immortal Demon Way. Liu Qingge apparently being a very pretty boy fell neatly into line with all the other character design surprises that Shang Qinghua had gotten smacked with so far.

If Airplane had known that he'd be transmigrating into his novel, maybe there would have been even more handsome men! And everyone would have lived happily ever after and nothing bad would have happened ever, probably, but also there might be more sexy guys too.

TBC

#timetomakeanewwish #tossawary updates #tossawary svsss #shang qinghua #unrealistically young prodigy liu qingge au #ask tossawary

117 notes · View notes

kimnjss · 4 years

Text

teach me | myg

⤑ series: be my baby

⤑ pairing: rapper!yoongi x mom!reader

⤑ genre: fluff

⤑ rating: PG13.

⤑ word count: 5.6K

⤑ warnings: there aren’t any, oop.

⤑ A/N: hello im here, lmao. this was supposed to be on time, but i slept for way longer than i planned... nd then i got lazy, so yeah. i hope you enjoy it, tho!! x

APRIL 26TH, 2020 | 11:18

The elevator doors close as she steps out, long dark hair tied nicely at the top of her head, the curled ends tickling the back of her satin top. The same short woman that had entered your house freely arms full of boxes of clothing Yoongi had bought for Hyunki. Her smile lights up her whole face, perfectly straight white teeth gleaming it almost pulls attention from the endearing dimple at the corner of her lips.

Waving widely when she spots you, lazily dressed in a pair of jeans that just so happened to be clean, a sweatshirt that you were sure belonged to Jungkook or Taehyung at one point. A complete contrast to her well put together attire, she probably had all the time in the world to match her shirt with her form-fitting skirts.

She's bending at the waist after acknowledging you with a sweet smile, now eye level with Hyunki who has not stopped scowling since you were unbuckling his car seat. It was safe to say, he wasn't in the best of moods.

With having to say goodbye to Joon last night and the fact he wanted pancakes for breakfast and you tried your hardest to make it the way 'Kookie-Hyung' did but failed. The fit he threw over that slowly dwindled into the silent treatment (something he was becoming very fond of). He didn't speak a word to you until you were taking him out of the car.

And that was only to tell you that he could walk on his own.

Now, though, with this strange woman in front of him; he's shifting closer to you. Tiny fist clutching at the fabric of your jeans. “Hi! You must be Hyunki?” She says brightly, reaching out for a handshake – like actually offering her hand out to a three-year-old. You hold back the urge to roll your eyes.

Hyunki eyes her palm for a moment, pondering what she expects him to do with it – no bout. Before he's dragging his eyes up to her face, realizing just how close she is to him. He takes a step back.

“We don't have to stand this close,” You detect the attitude in his voice and normally you'd be reminding him of his manners. Especially with people older than him. But the kid had a point, there was no reason for her to be in his face like that.

Clearing her throat, slight embarrassment flashes through her eyes she stands. Straightening her shirt on her body. “I'm Jiso, by the way. Yn, right?” She tries, offering her hand out to you.

And you take it, pushing a smile onto your lips as you nod your head. “Where's Yoongi?” Lifting a bit on your tiptoes you peek over her shoulder as if he'd appear if you looked hard enough.

“Oh! He's on his way down. I just wanted to come say hi,” Her eyes shift back down to Hyunki, to find he's become fascinated with one of the toys he managed to smuggle out of the house. “They look so much alike,” Jiso seems in awe by her own words, by the fact a son could actually look like his father.

This time you're actually rolling your eyes, out of habit. It's subtle and automatic and if she notices it she doesn't say anything. The moment grows stale, awkward. She's shifting on her feet, looking between you and Hyunki with that smile on her face and you're considering scooping him up and going to wait for Yoongi in the car.

As if he had sensed your distress, Yoongi is stepping off the elevator with a hustle. The corners of his lips lifting until he's full-blown grinning as his eyes shift from you to Hyunki who has cracked his first smile since this morning.

“What's up, buddy?” Without a moment of hesitation, Yoongi is crouching down and lifting Hyunki off of the ground. He's curling into his side instantly, head falling on his shoulder as his eyes flutter closed. “Did he not sleep well last night?” His words directed to you, while Jiso stands on the sidelines – listening.

“He's in a bad mood. Joon left last night and he had a hard morning.” You don't miss the way his head lifts at the mention of Namjoon, on high alert now. Fully tapped into the conversation.

Quickly, you go over the 'need knows' for the day. The schedule Hyunki's on and certain things that calm him down. Signs that he's anxious or upset. Ways to avoid a meltdown. Yoongi nods along, taking the information you're giving him all while bouncing Hyunki on his side.

Jiso watching with hearts in her eyes the entire time. You're positive the girl hasn't blinked since Yoongi was stepping off the elevator. “Daddy's gonna get you something yummy for lunch, how does that sound?” Yoongi speaks softly to the little boy in his arms, who only nods – not pulling his attention from his toy.

“Call me if you need anything, okay?” He turns his head only for a moment to grant you a nod. “Don't worry too much, okay?” There's teasing in his tone and it's obvious he's noticed your reluctance.

Not that you had any problem leaving Hyunki with him, of course not – Yoongi was his dad and you wanted them to spend as much time together as they possibly could. You just knew how Hyunki was when he was grumpy, not wanting things to get out of hand where Yoongi was overwhelmed.

Yoongi overwhelmed was much like Hyunki grumpy. A mess.

Poking a gentle finger at his shoulder to let him know you mean business, “Call me.” You repeat. Turning your attention to Hyunki, your hand gently grasping his cheeks to pucker his lips. There's smile in his eyes despite the way he tries to fight it, still mad at you.

Standing this close, Yoongi can't help but admire you. The gentle slope of your nose, long lashes that dust over the tops of your cheeks. Cheeks bones that seem much more defined than he remembered. Jaw much more angled. Grown-up.

“I love you. I love you. And I love you.” A baby kiss sealing each confession that has your son grinning at the end of it. “You're gonna listen to daddy today, right? Who's the boss?”

Reluctant to say it, he rolls his big eyes before huffing out, “Mister Yoobi.” Had rehearsed it all of yesterday when you were first telling him that he'd be spending all day today with Yoongi.

“Good boy. Stay with daddy. And I'll come get you later?” He's nodding his head with a small smile, cheek finding Yoongi's shoulder as you lean down to press a kiss to his soft cheek. A tiny wave bye, before you're turning to leave – only to be stopped by the grasp on your elbow.

Yoongi gently dragging you back and he's got that look on his face. One that you're all too familiar with, could point it out in a lineup. The glint in his eye, the smirk on his lips. “Does daddy get a kiss too?” Voice gruff, words mumbled only for you.

Despite the rapid heating up of your cheeks, your eyes roll. “No,” Easily wiggling from his grasp before you're turning your attention back to Hyunki. “Goodbye. I love you.” You repeat with a grin, pressing a kiss to his forehead before stepping back.

He watches you until you're ducking into your car, rolling the window down to wave obnoxiously before driving off.

“Mommy should give Daddy kisses too, don't you think, Hyunki?” Yoongi's asking while handing over his son's backpack to Jiso, who had patiently been waiting for the couple moment to be over.

With a shrug of his shoulder, Hyunki continues fooling around with the toy in his hand. “She probably ran out.” The deadpan tone of his voice, a less mature version of the voice Yoongi uses when he's not interested in something. Like to the T.

“She can give me kisses and you kisses, Hyunki. They're different kisses, so she should have enough.” Now joined by his two bodyguards, Yoongi heads toward the back doors with his son in his arms.

Hyunki lets out a huff, pausing for a moment to eye the men that are now following him and his dad. He recognizes them as the ones who brought his gifts, so he's turning his attention back to Yoongi. “Mommy can give me kisses, duh. And Joonie too. So not enough.”

A stutter in his steps and a sideways glance to his son. Surprise written on his features, not expecting the familiar matter-of-fact tone to come out of such a small little human. Yoongi can't fight the laugh that falls from his lips, eyes rolling at his son's words.

“What do you want to eat?”

Hyunki is perking up instantly, eyes going wide. “Cheesecake!” He shouts with a raise of his little arms. With a laugh, Yoongi is nodding and securing him into his brand new car seat before sliding in the back beside him.

A bodyguard blocking Hyunki from the window and the other sat in the front seat. Leaning back against his seat, with his arms crossed over his chest, Yoongi gets comfortable as his driver pulls out of the parking space.

“Cheesecake Factory.” He directs, the smile on his face growing as Hyunki happily claps his hands.

APRIL 26TH, 2020 | 13:02

That kid could eat. Yoongi is deciding with a smirk on his face as Hyunki finishes his second slice of cheesecake. Of course, that wasn't the only thing he ate. Much to Hyunki's annoyance, he was told to order some real food before dessert.

He softened at the sight of the chicken tenders being placed in front of him, a large helping a fries set beside it. Digging in with a loud 'Thank you!' and the biggest of smiles on his face.

They're able to fall into easy conversation, Hyunki going on about what happened at the zoo, and how he never knew penguins were that huge. Laughing loudly when he talked about the way Taetae tried to talk to a tiger and how Kookie-Hyung got scared by a bear.

Yoongi listened the entire time, simply enjoying the sight of his son so excited to share. The stories continue throughout the car ride home, short stretches of silence falling among them before Hyunki is perking up.

“Did you know giraffes talk with their butts? Their mouths don't work or something.” He says as Yoongi straps him in his seat, reaching his hand to ruffle his hair before getting in beside him.

It's a moment before they start driving a quick exchange between Yoongi in the driver. Which lasted too long for Hyunki who is still waiting for an answer to his question. His small hand reaches out to gently tug on his sleeve to pull his attention.

“Dad, you have to listen because you don't know.” Yoongi's eyes are going wide at the name. But Hyunki is going on without missing a beat. Repeating his fun fact as normal. Then spewing ten more in the same breath.

Yet, Yoongi can't bring himself to focus. To take in the new information that he probably won't end up using anyway. The only thing he can hear is his son calling him 'Daddy' for the first time, making all of this so real. Min Hyunki. His little boy. His son. Trying to get his attention, wanting his attention while he speaks.

Warmth spreads throughout Yoongi's body as a smile breaks onto his features. Dad. He liked the sound of that. Who he was, who wanted to be. He was 'Dad' now.

“Are you even listening, Mister Yoobi?” Hyunki speaks as the car is being parked and he's realizing none of his fun facts have gotten a reaction. Back to 'Mister Yoobi' so fast, it must've been a fluke. Fantastic.

With a huff, Yoongi is shaking his head. “Sorry, buddy. My head was somewhere else. Tell me one more time.” Hyunki doesn't hesitate to restart his story, allowing Yoongi to pull him from his car seat, carrying him on his side as they enter the building.

This time, Yoongi is tuned into what his son is saying. Fascinated by how much he knows about animals, and wildlife, and just life and general. A lot more than an average three year old would know he's sure.

“Is that your favorite animal?” He asks as Hyunki finishes saying how Koala's sniff their leaves to know which is the tastiest. He nods with a wide smile, cheek resting comfortably on his shoulder. “I love them, they sleep so long too.”

Yoongi carries his son the entire way to his studio, setting him down once they've reached the door. Jimin had texted just twenty minutes before about how he, Jin, and Hobi had just arrived. Behind the door, ready to meet Hyunki.

Carefully advised by you, Yoongi takes to preparing him for what awaits on the other side of the door. In hopes to prevent any disastrous incident. The steps you laid out for him, echoing in his mind as he speaks – not wanting to mess anything up.

“Are you having fun with Daddy so far?” He asks, genuinely curious but also serving as a reminder for Hyunki. He nods quickly, smiling wide up at him. “I had two slices of cheesecake!” He grins as if Yoongi hadn't been there to watch the kid inhale them.

“You did. Daddy has some friends that want to meet you. Only three of them,” He holds up his hand to show three fingers. “Daddy likes them a lot. Do you think you want to say 'Hi'?”

Hyunki's nose is scrunching at the mention of new people. A concept he's not all too fond of. He liked the people that he knew and didn't understand why his Mommy and now his Daddy was always adding someone new.

Saying 'Hi' won't hurt, though, right? He didn't want to be rude because he knew that Mommy wouldn't like that. She always said it was good to greet people when they want to meet you. So, just saying hi is fine.

Slowly, he's nodding his head. Causing a smile to spread over Yoongi's lips. “Great. If you don't like them, you tell me. I'll kick them out.” There's laughter in his voice, but Hyunki takes his joke seriously. Mister Yoobi was on his side if these new friends were too scary for him.

Quickly typing in the code to open the door with one hand, Yoongi holds onto his son's hand with the other. The light beeps green before the door is pushing open, revealing his studio.

The size of a one bedroom apartment, complete with instruments, monitors, soundboards, a recording booth tucked in the corner. A shower across from that which held a few of his clothes for the nights he spent in here. Fridge fully stocked with drinks and snacks for those nights as well, neatly placed by the large L-shaped couch pushed against the wall.

A lot of his time was spent in this room, so he wanted to make it as homey as possible. His friend's appreciated that too.

Hobi sat upright on the couch, scrolling through his phone with one hand while he toyed with Jin's hair with the other. Head rested on his thigh as he chatted with Jimin across the room who was playing a computer game, only half-listening to the words coming from his elder's mouth.

The sound of the door slamming shut is catching Jimin's attention before anyone, his head turning toward the sound. “Is that him?” He rushes, eyes wide as he scrambles to his feet.

Hyunki is quick to shuffle behind Yoongi's leg, hands grasping his pant leg just as he had done with his mother earlier. Jimin puts a slow to his steps noticing the kid's actions, pushing an easy smile on his face.

“He's a bit shy,” Yoongi explains, bending to pick his son off of the floor. Holding him to his side. “Look, buddy, see. These are my friends. That's Park Jimin, Jin, and Hobi.” Pointing as he introduces them.

The small boy stares at Jimin from his comfortable position in his dad's arms. Studying the man that stands before him, from his pink hair to his black boots. Then all of a sudden, he's pushing his hand out, smiling big. “I'm Hyunki!”

Jimin laughs, stepping forward to take the small hand into his. He shakes it, watching the way Hyunki's smile grows until it's a spitting image of his dad's gummy smile. “Absolute insanity.” He says with a shake of his head, dropping the little boy's hand before lifting his to ruffle his hair.

“You look exactly like your daddy.”

Hyunki's head is whipping to the side, studying the features of his father's face for a moment before he's turning his attention back to Jimin. “Thank you.” He says with a nod of his head, wiggling as a signal to be let down.

Yoongi does just that, setting him on his feet as he walks further into the room. “How's hanging out with him without Yn?” Speaking in a bit of a whisper, Jimin steps closer to Yoongi to deliver his words.

“It's actually been alright, we went to eat and-,” Yoongi fills his friend in on his time with his son while Hyunki takes deliberate steps across the room. Stopping in front of the couch where Hobi and Jin sit.

Hands propped on his hips, he stares the two of them down. Jin is staring right back with a squint, determined to win this unspoken staring contest while Hobi watches on amused.

“What's up, baby Yoongi?” Hobi is breaking the silent exchange after a few moments pass. Hyunki's eyes shifting from Jin up to Hobi. “Shit, he looks exactly like you. Fucking insane.” Words delivered to Yoongi with wide eyes.

Lowering himself at his computer desk, Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Don't curse in front of the kid. Yn will chop my shit.” Never a blatant discussion had between the two of you, but he figured it was safe to assume that you didn't want your kid with a trucker's mouth.

“You're bad at this,” Jin speaks with a laugh, sitting up from his seat as he offers Hyunki a high-five. He's quickly slapping his hand onto his, a large smile breaking onto his features.

Hyunki is back to exploring the room in an instant, slowly becoming comfortable with his surroundings. His daddy's friends were a lot different than the too big smiling people that he sometimes met when he was out with his Mommy.

They always got too close, voice raising too high when they talked to him. Daddy's friends were different. Calmer. Hyunki liked that. Able to relax like he is when he's with Taetae or Kookie-Hyung, and even Joonie now.

His eyes are widening at the side of the familiar instrument in the corner of his room. Tiny feet carrying him as he rushes to it. “Mister Yoobi, you didn't say you had a pinado!?” He's grinning as he looks back to where Yoongi is sitting.

“Yeah. You want to look at it?” Yoongi is standing long before Hyunki is nodding his head. Making his way out to him and easily lifting him onto the piano bench while scooting beside him.

As soon as he's lifting the cover, Hyunki's fingers are reaching for the keys. His back is straightening and as soon as his fingers begin to move a melodic rhythm fills the studio. It isn't super complex, just a few notes repeating over and over but Yoongi is in awe at the sight of his son effortlessly playing the piano right before his eyes.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Yoongi is asking just as Hyunki finishes his first melody and starting a new one.

With his eyes focused on his fingers, he shrugs a shoulder. “Taetae showed me. But it's easy.” Of course, it'd be easy, do you know who your dad is? The response is fresh on Yoongi's tongue, but he doesn't say anything.

To enthralled at the pure talent of his son. Three years old, able to make a tune. Fingers barely able to reach the flat keys, but he manages with slight effort. He can recognize the song as a nursery rhyme but altered with an original twist. Genius.

“Here, let daddy show you something.” Yoongi is reaching for his son with easy, lifting him from his part of the bench and setting him onto his lap. He brings his own hands to the keys, playing the beginning notes of one of his songs. The last song on his latest album.

Hyunki's eyes are wide as he watches the movement of his dad's finger. An actual song, he can tell. “Did Taetae teach you too?” He's asking, twisting his body so he can get a good look at his face.

A soft laugh lights his features as he shakes his head. “Nope. Daddy taught himself.” The littlest of gasps is leaving Hyunki's lips as he turns to face the keys again. Hands lifting to cover his father's before he's tilting his head back to look at him.

“Teach me too, then.”

APRIL 26TH, 2020 | 19:23

As the hours ticked on, Hyunki became more and more comfortable with Yoongi and his friends. He went from playing the piano (halfway learning one of Yoongi's songs) to watching videos on Jimin's phone.

As someone who doesn't usually let anyone touch their phone, Jimin was oddly quick to offer up the device when Hyunki he was complaining that he was bored. Cueing up video after video, with the sole purpose of making the young boy laugh.

From there he was moving on to show off his toy to Hoseok, pulling it apart and quickly putting it back together while he oohed and awed at the display. The two of them were quickly falling into a game of imagine, Hobi making sound effects as they went along.

And before long he was settling beside Jin on the couch, leaning on him as the adults discussed where they'd go for dinner. It had only been one minute since Hyunki whined about being hungry, the snacks that were given to him not cutting it anymore.

“What about you, Mister Hyun? What do you want to eat?” Hyunki perks up at the new attention, finger tapping against his chin as he thinks about the options that he could possibly have.

He doesn't think for long, seeming to have what he wanted picked out before he was even brought into the conversation. “Pizza!” He shouts with a clap of his hands, eyes lifting to find Yoongi who seems to be contemplating the suggestion. “Pizza, Mister Yoobi?” A slight pout taking over his features, brows turned in.

Jimin finds a pizza place pretty quickly on his phone and it's not long before the five of them are filing out of the business and into the cars.

Hours have passed since then. While they were out, Yoongi was struck with a certain bit of inspiration. All the new feelings of spending time with his kid, hanging out with his friends, things finally seeming a bit more clear with you... he's giddy to get back to the studio to work.

“Can Park take me out for ice cream?” Hyunki is asking with the sweetest of smiles, Jimin a few steps behind him flashing a matching convincing grin. Yoongi is nodding his head instantly, laughing at the loud 'Yay!' that leaves both of their lips before they're turning to leave the room – Jin and Hoseok trailing behind them.

Yoongi's sat at his desk when you arrive, your sharp knock pulling him from his musical world. He's pulling the door open a few moments later, his lips lifting into the smile once he's seeing you.

Dressed differently from this morning. Instead of the comfy clothes you had dropped Hyunki off in, you're wearing a dress. One that hugs your body nicely, but still casual enough to be worn with sneakers. And that's not it, you've put on makeup. The whole ordeal, from lashes to lipstick.

And he's seriously fighting the urge to kiss you. Fuck, how long it's been since he's kissed you.

Leaning forward, you poke your head into the booth, searching its emptiness just like you had done in the first room. Turning, your brows furrow as you look up at your ex. “Where's Hyunki?”

“The guys took him out for ice cream.”

You're nodding at his words, lowering yourself onto the couch across from him. The same couch for some reason kept up in the time that passed but still old. It was the only thing you recognized about the studio. His higher status in the company granting him with all these new perks, it seemed.

“You didn't want to go?” Yoongi's settling into the seat across from you at his desk. “I wanted to wait for you.” There's obvious sweetness in his tone and you can't deny the easy effect he has on you.

Even when he's saying something as simple as that. Something so plain. Of course, he'd wait for you, he knew you were on your way. So duh, he'd want to wait for you. That didn't stop the flutter in your heart, though.

“What did you guys do today?” This was weird. Filling the silence with small talk. Footing not quite right between the two of you, still figuring things out between each other. You wanted to focus to be on Hyunki and Hyunki alone, but that didn't take away from the fact of how badly he wanted to touch you.

And not even in the sexual sense. Well, yes in the sexual sense – but that wasn't it. He missed being able to hold your hand, play with your face, wrap his arms around your waist. He just missed you. Even now when you were sitting right in front of him. He still missed you.

But like you said, for Hyunki's sake. “A lot. Took him for lunch and dinner. Hung out around here. I taught him how to play a song on the piano.” The smile that takes over your features sets a stutter in Yoongi's heart.

But he ignores it.

“He's getting real good at that.” Of all the times you found him practicing with Taehyung. Adamant to get every last key correct, annoyed each time he'd mess up, starting over from the top every single time. Just like his dad.

You'd be a fool to say you didn't wish things turned out differently. That you had never left and the two of you could've raised Hyunki together. It was crazy how similar the two of them were and they didn't even know each other.

Imagine if they had. How special that would be.

“You want to hear something I've been working on?” He speaks to fill the silence and you're instantly perking up – nodding your head. One of your favorite things was to hear his unfinished work, he'd always ask you for your opinion and it made you feel that much more connected to him when he was taking your advice.

It's natural, how fast you stand as he's scooting back from the computer desk. Don't even think as you're lowering yourself into his lap before he has the chance to get up for you to sit. Something he had entirely planned on doing.

As soon as your bum is settled on his thigh, you're realizing your mistake. Eyes going wide, but you don't move. You're committed at this point so you're acting as if your heart didn't just enter a hundred-yard sprint and leaning back against his chest.

“Show me.”

Yoongi's hesitant at first. Not sure if he should move or move you, but at the same time not wanting to do anything about it. He finds comfort in having you this close. The smell of your sweet shampoo tickling his nostrils. You haven't changed it. You didn't seem to have a problem with this, so why should he? Right?

Why should he? So he's lifting his arm to wrap around your waist with swiftness, pulling your body tighter against his as he reaches for the headphones that lay on his desk. He's securing them on your head with one hand, not willing to unwrap his arm from around you to use both.

“It's only half-finished, but be honest.”

There aren't any words. But you can already tell it's much different from the type of music he's usually putting out. Brighter. Instead of the heavy notes he usually uses, this one sounds more fun?

Something that could potentially be sung along to. Was he planning on singing? The beat shifts and you assume that's where the chorus would be. More bass is added to the sound. Was he going to dance too?

This was so different, but you liked it. Like a lot. Excited to see what he'd do with this since the poppy tune was so unlike him. The beat slows toward the end and even though he isn't listening, he's perking up when it's fading out.

Watching you expectantly, almost nervously as he waits for your input. He too noticed the different approach he had when creating this beat. Determined to try something new, detached from the last two albums he released. Something to stand on his own, that would make fans go: Oh, he can do that too?

“It's really good.” You say first to ease his worries. “Like scary good, you know? It's not what you expect when you turn on Agust D... but I don't know? I like it.” The corners of his lips lift at your praise, you could literally see the nervousness melting away.

It's only gone for a moment before worry is striking his brow again. Teeth tugging at his lower lip gently. “You're not just saying that, right? You think people will like it?” You can't help the smile that breaks onto your features at his words, hand instantly reaching forward to grasp his chin.

Like you've done a million times before. Something you'd began to do to Hyunki too when he was feeling some type of way. Yoongi's lips pucker from the push of your hand, eyes widening as you lean in – almost certain that you're going to kiss him. But you don't, well not exactly. Your lips are finding his forehead, landing two short kisses to his skin.

“You're so serious.” You mumble, not thinking much of it.

If this were three years ago, it wouldn't be a big deal. Sort of your catch phrase when he was stressing himself out about things he didn't have to worry about. Things that were out of his control. It's only after you're seeing the way he's looking at you do you realize it's not three years ago.

Ready to throw caution to the wind, not a care in the world. Just you. In his arms, putting his lips on him. He didn't care where. After so long without your touch, he'd settle for anything at this point.

Obviously too comfortable in this space, on his lap, things started to feel familiar and you acted out of turn. Inappropriate. You were the one that asked not to pursue anything, so what were you doing?

An apology fresh on your tongue, as you pull your body from his grasp. Ready to assure him that you were caught up and that that... that was just a slight relapse. The words don't leave your lips, though – because the door is bursting open and loud laughter is instantly filling the room.

“Mommy! You came back for me!” Hyunki is yelling over the ruckus, climbing out of Jin's grasp and bolting in your direction.

A forced laugh leaves your lips, the awkward tension taking a while longer to dissipate, you lower yourself to scoop Hyunki off of the floor. “Of course, I'd come back for you, baby. Did you have fun with daddy, today?”

“I had two slices of cheesecake and ice cream!” The amount of sweets not something you'd usually root for, but you hold back on chastises either of them. Still stunned from how you acted, how you almost acted.

“That's good, baby. I'm so happy for you. Why don't you give daddy hugs, we gotta go get ready for bed.” Hyunki's nodding at your words, climbing from your arms to Yoongi's outstretched ones.

He sets his cheek on his chest, small arms wrapping around him as he squeezes. Yoongi's slow at lifting his arms, holding his kid close once he finally does. “I'll see you tomorrow, okay, buddy?”

Hyunki nods with a smile, turning his attention to the boys that have sprawled around the room. “You guys can come see me tomorrow too!” He shouts and much to your surprise, Jimin is the first to agree.

Taking his time to say goodbye to everyone and you wait patiently until he's saying he's ready to go. He's leading you out of the room as if he owns the place. As if he's been there a million times and you're the one that needs the guide.

Yoongi watches as you go, a measly smile offered in his direction before you're turning the corner. Despite not being able to see you anymore, he didn't look away. Still trying to wrap his head around what just happened.

You had kissed him. On the forehead, yeah. Seemed like a high-five in comparison to all you've done before. But it was something. Something after nothing in years. And now he was determined. More ready than before to fix things with you.

More than ready to be a family.

— when the love of his life suddenly vanishes, he drives himself mad looking for her. seemingly erased from the world, he’s forced to pick up the pieces of his life and move on… fast forward three years and someone who looks a lot like the woman he lost is being spotted, holding a kid with an oddly familiar gummy smile…

⟲ masterlist ⟳

⇝ taglist: @randomkoalablog @smoljams @dee-ehn @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hehehehahahohohuhu @sw33tnight @butterflylion @withlovestudyblr @soulstaes @bangtansonyeondayyyum @samros95 @korkanswers @houseofarmanto @marifujioka @tae165 @uxwi @jinhitwhore @preciouschimine @yeontanie21 @aa-ronpa @taefect94 @lee-karliah @codeinebelle @mochibabycakes @diminieshoe @fuddyize @soloikeadates @0xmysticx0 @bbyjoonies @amoreguk @tricethecharm @diminieshoe @jayyayyy17 @softlyjins @bangtan-noona @fan-atic-blog @fuck-expectations-people @paradisetaemin @nyamjinnie @lilacdreams-00 @vsugakookie0104 @koostime @la-evforia @betysotelo18 @chocobetterknot @simplysanha @delicategukkie @kookieswithtaeq @jeon-ggukkie @angjeon

⇝ taglist: @bangtansbun @flamboyant-louie @elliemeetsevil @angiexyoung @stonyiscanon @strawberryforever25 @mipetronella @rageyoudamnednerd @hellotherehoneybee @joonies-babyy @mypurplelamp @jikooksgirl19 @sushi-date-ghost @bigimpression @kookiesjoonies @amour-quinn @diamonddia-mond @alterlovess @gemad08 @daydreambrliever @acc3ssdenied @silentlyimpractical @bella-victoria002 @ashleyjoyx @yoooonie @btsbed @sungieshines @thia-aep @taeshuworld @hopiebabie @trynavibewhileicry @illwritetomorrow @kookoo-kachoo @prettxyliies @triviasjms @ratking101 @elephantdoors @feel-like-gold @kelitt @itsponybeaches @alpaca1612 @jeonkookiebangtan @rather-not-sayy @kimsouthjoon @seokjiniebabie @wisenerdcreator @cosmicflwr @kookie-monsteur @donghae-bae @sugalarity93 @eugeneliem @morgstreet @niieceyy @thefouranemoi @ayasanuwu @itsrapmonstanotdancemonsta @izzyexe @justzeera @xjoonchildx @pjmcth @fizziefizzco @monetsberet @killaqueeeennnn @mayumioutloud @mygsbae @fakeluvrm @lovingele @tetekiim @masterpiecejoonie @tiddieshakeshownu @kuppyjiminie @xlovelyyoongix @beeeb05 @comically-sleep-deprived @spillthetaesissy @kerikaaria @ephyra1230 @hajiraa06 @bburninggoldd @luvsoobin @agustneeds @fromthedt @hecticwonderer @cuteipat @hispoutylips @moonlitmyg @fanfics-for-fun @ruinsofangels @untainted-memories @ughtear @hopetookmysoul @unicornnomore @jungkookspromise @namjoonbaby @vantaexx @apurpledheart @rjsmochii @ladyartemesia @bangpink123 @jrobmorebangtan @baabelleer @midkpjm @kthvhs @trinityxsope @thecityrain @princecalpal @honeyspillings @kim-ji-hyeons-world @hyungaway @agustdakasuga @namjoonsleftankle @notasunshine @abyssiniandissociation @taegix94 @alison-renee @somewhereinthestarss @salty-for-suga @simplymemyself @hear-me-growl @ggukkieland @hisunshiine @ephyra16 @yoong-i @diorhobii @lexy9716 @psiphidragon @ireneterea @crazyboutjooni @mvltimoon @barbikatherine @adoringinsanity @g0lden-sunset @thefiresfromheaven @nanied93 @sunshine-ybba @sakura-uji @bbyxiumin @snortyport @haveumetbadeth @abra-cadabra-jin @bangtandongsaeng @sixwestonrd @yoongs-jeontae @agirlintheparkjimin @1-800-jinsoul

A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. to be added to the taglist, send me an ask !! feedback is highly !! appreciated, it’s the motivation i need to keep the fic going nd fun for you guys!!<33

1K notes · View notes

lihikainanea · 3 years

Note

thinking about jealous bill a lot these days, lei, and how he’d fuck her so good after. one of those fucks where he’s just making her HIS, fucking her from behind and just making her forget any words. especially if she was already small and some guy hit on her at a bar that she already didn’t want to be at and bill just assures her the whole time home. but once they’re home? he knows what he’s gotta do and that’s making her mind blank.

Oooooooof I've been sitting on this for too long, but it has had me tingling for days. I've been itching to get my thoughts out on it, but idk sometimes this routine that I think I have nailed down with my little furry dude just goes to shit all of a sudden and there's really no reason to it. Last week I was rocking it, his nap times were on point, I was eating dinner by 7, we had walks, play time, then he conked out. This week I'm like DURRRR HOW DO I DOG PARENT? and I'm eating dinner at 10 and I feel like even Bongo is looking at me like he really needs me to get my shit together.

ANYWAY.

Let's get into this.

What I love about this here is the small but incredibly important detail that you mentioned that like...maybe tiger is already a little small. Maybe she's somewhere she doesn't want to be and Bill knows this, maybe she's not feeling too great about it and is getting worse, maybe she wants out or needs a reprieve and Bill knows it. And that right there flares up his protector side, the primal side of him that just wants to pick her up and carry her out, get her somewhere dark where she can sit on his lap and he can shove his thumb in her mouth and hold her there for as long as she needs. Tiger being a little overwhelmed, a little uncomfortable in a place she doesn't want to be in, tiger getting a little small in a place that's not safe for her to be small in and she knows it so she's spiralling a little...oof, Bill morphs into the alpha male that he keeps buried deep, and his own instincts are on fire to protect her, comfort her, provide for her. Throw in a little jealousy on Bill's side because tiger being small is....like, that's his you know? Only he gets to see that. And her mood is completely imperceptible to everybody else, but she may as well have a sign on her forehead that says "PUT ME ON MY KNEES" to Bill. It's so obvious to him, and his feathers are all ruffled because that's his. That's his look.

So alright, maybe tiger is just having a fucking shit week. She's due to be riding the crimson wave in a few days so she's bloated and the tatas are sensitive , her clothes aren't fitting, she's been kind of nauseous all day with a dull ache in the base of her skull. Maybe it's 38754596660 fucking degrees in a heat wave and like, tiger doesn't do heat. Her commute to work is not air-conditioned, so by the time she gets home she's overheated and sweaty and even more puffy and just full of fucking bad feelings. She's physically uncomfortable for a million different reasons, she's tired, SHE'S SO DAMN HOT--it's just all bad.

But it's a friend's birthday and at the moment, tiger kind of thinks that friend is a fucking asshole for organizing something in the middle of the week--let alone the worst week of life--but she's going. They're going. They have to.

But Bill's not convinced.

"You know kid," he says gently as he leans against the doorframe, sipping a beer as tiger tries on the millionth dress. The rejects are in a heap on the bed, and she struggles with the zipper as she shoots him an annoyed look.

"We can sit this one out if you don't feel like going," he says. He doesn't move to help her with the zipper--not when she's in a mood like this. Instead, he just swigs his beer.

"No we can't Bill," she snaps, and with a frustrated huff the dress goes up and over her head and is tossed into the pile of rejects. "She'll be pissed if we miss this."

"Then she's pissed," he shrugs, "We can make it up to her."

Tiger yanks another dress out of the closet, pulls it on. She pokes at it, turns a few ways in the mirror.

"That one's cute," he says.

But then she unties the belt, flings it off so the dress billows loosely around her frame.

"Fuck it," she says, grabbing his beer on her way out of the room, "I'm fucking wearing this fucking potato sack to fucking dinner."

Bill watches as she downs the beer in two gulps.

"Ugh," she mutters lowly, "Fucking lite beer bullshit."

At this point, he really just has all the sympathy in the world for her. Her friends are important to her, and tiger always feels a sense of obligation to never let them down. He knows this is the last place she feels like going tonight, but she's forcing herself to.

And like the thing with tiger's bad moods is sometimes they make her full of piss and vinegar and ready to fight everyone, and sometimes they just make her small. Bill never knows which way it's going to go, but given the fact that she's a little hormonal and he knows she's close to shark week, he can take a guess at which way the dice will roll tonight.

And it basically starts in the car on the way there. She's fidgety, even with the A/C cranked on high. She's pulling at the hem of her dress, huffing, she's rubbing at her temples. At one point she takes the seatbelt, pulling it away from her body and Bill shoots her a quizzical look.

"If my tits could stop feeling like they're about to fucking burst, that'd be great," she mutters.

"I'll give you a massage later tonight," he kisses her knuckles.

"Fuck all of this."

"I know, kid."

And it just gets worse. When tiger is in this kind of mood, really the thing that makes it worse is to just....surround her with people. Surround her with people that she has to fake joy and happiness with. She doesn't have the patience or the fucking energy for it, and despite her best efforts, Bill can see the scowl permanently etched in her forced happy face. And he can see the shift start to happen--the way she fidgets a lot more, and can't get comfortable. The way her shoulders hunch over. The way she's flinching or jumping at loud noises, squinting or wrinkling her features at the bright lights. Her eyes are getting a bit of a spaced out look, she's not really engaging in conversations--everything is just too much. The environment is starting to get way too stimulating, way too overwhelming, and she's getting small on him. He gives her knee a hard squeeze, hard enough to ground her and catch her attention and she jolts.

"You good?" he murmurs lowly. And he knows she's not. SHE knows that he knows she's not. But she forces a fake smile, so wide that it's almost sarcastic.

"Peachy."

A few minutes pass, her knee bouncing, her eyes flitting everywhere, and she stands.

"I need some air," she says, "It's too fucking hot in here."

Bill stands immediately, but she puts a hand on his shoulder and pushes him back down.

"I'm fine," she says, "Really. Just give me a minute."

He doesn't like it, not one bit, but he lets her go. Alone.

A few minutes pass, and sure enough she comes back in. She motions her hand to the bar, but Bill holds up his full pint to let her know he doesn't need another round just yet. She nods, heading there anyway to get a refill for herself.

Bill has eyes on her. Bill always has eyes on her. And tiger doesn't see it, but Bill does--he sees the guy standing next to her give her a little once-over, sees a smirk tilt up the guy's lips, and Bill knows what's about to happen. He doesn't hear the conversation, but he doesn't need to. He sees the guy speak. He sees tiger tense up a little, a tight smile in politeness, and she turns her head to try and make eye contact with the bartender a little quicker.

The guy doesn't get the hint, and keeps talking. Bill stands up. His eyes are on her the whole time, and now she's ignoring the guy. Turning her body slightly away, leaning forward a bit in hopes of getting her order in with the bartender faster. Her shoulders are practically up by her ears, and the guy with the sleazy smirk is still talking. Bill is ready to fucking punch the guy into next week just for the reaction that he's eliciting from his girl--making her scared, making her uncomfortable, even fucking daring to talk to her when she's like this. Bill eats up the distance with quick strides.

He makes it in the nick of time, right as this guy had raised a hand and was poised to place it on tiger's back in a rather unwanted caress. Bill grabs his wrist, steps between him and tiger, and gets real into his space.

"Just try and touch her motherfucker," he growls, "I dare you."

And listen, if nothing else--Bill is tall and that's intimidating as fuck when it gets right up in your space real quickly. But Bill also came out of nowhere, he looks a little crazy, and this guy suddenly ain't so down to rumble.

"Bro, I didn't know--"

But Bill just stands even taller and tiger actually shrinks behind him, her hand gently on his back, and it's the only thing that's keeping him remotely calm. This isn't about his anger. This is about protecting her, especially when she's like this for him, and nothing else matters.

The guy just holds his hands up, and backs away into the crowd. When he's out of sight, Bill turns to her.

"We're leaving kid," he says, and god it's so gentle, "Go wait for me by the car okay?"

"No," she mumbles immediately, fisting at his shirt a little bit, "No, can I stay here with you?"

And he realizes that she's a little scared and just a whole lot overwhelmed, and Jesus he could fucking melt into a puddle for her right that second.

"Of course you can," he tugs on a lock of her hair gently, "Of course you can."

Bill gets the bartender's attention in no time--a giraffe at your bar will do that--and he pays for everyone's tab. They make a hasty exit but he takes the blame--it's par for the course when you're friends with Bill, he's often tiger's ride and he's always getting all kinds of urgent calls--and then they leave.

And listen, the second that they're in the car? Tiger can finally start to let her walls come down, which is just fucking igniting Bill's jealous side and his protector side.

"Are you okay?" he murmurs to her. She looks so fussy, so small for him.

"I want to go home," she whines.

"I know sweet girl, I'm taking you home."

"He was awful Bill," she says, "Ugh, he was so sleazy and so slimy and--and he tried--"

"He tried tiger," he says softly, "He can try all he wants. He'll never have what's mine."

"No he won't," she sniffles. Bill tucks her hair behind her ears, taps two fingers against her lips and she sucks at them.

"Are you mine?" he asks softly, "Is this mine?"

She nods, but he tuts her.

"Yes," she mumbles, "Yours."

"Good," he murmurs. He pulls his fingers from her mouth and she whines, but he drags his hand down and cups her mound softly. She moans and grabs onto his wrist.

"What about this?" he asks, "Is this mine too?"

"Yes," she chokes out, "Yes. God Bill get me home."

"I will sweet girl, I will."

And listen, when they get home? oof. There's no stopping Bill. He can't switch it off, he doesn't want to tame it, and tiger doesn't want him to either. She's his. He's possessive, he's rough, he's jealous--and all it does is make her smaller for him, make her even more soft and subby, which just makes him even more alpha. It's rough because he needs it, SHE needs it, needs the pain of it to feel grounded, needs the sting of a spanking so that she can feel his strength, so she can feel like she's his, so she can feel owned and possessed and protected. And Bill needs to mark her to feel like she's his, because goddamnit it came so close tonight to everyone seeing her only the way he gets to. Too many people almost saw what is only his to see.

For as much as he wants to wreck her, maybe tiger wants to be on her knees for him. Maybe she needs to be on her knees for him. And for however much he might need something else, nights like these are always about her, and what she needs comes first.

#sub tiger #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard drabble #BFF!Bill #oof #it's been a hot minute since we got subby up in hurr #and it does a bitch some GOOOOOOOOOD

87 notes · View notes

kyotakumrau · 3 years

Text

2021.03.10 USEN STUDIO COAST 2nd session with Toshiya and Kyo

Fujieda and Takabayashi again came on stage when the tables were ready and after greeting everyone and introducing themselves F asked fans to give band members a loud applause👏

Toshiya and Kyo came back and they both changed for the second session!

Unconfirmed until DIRT announcement, but most likely T was wearing DIRT items: light grey cardigan and black and white floral print set, top and bottom, with a thick white stripe with black frame on the sides. Plus sunglasses.

Kyo was wearing Madaraningen, MANG white shirt with the tie and black slacks, white socks with colorful accent, gold choice of Madara jewellery. And big glasses.

They sat in the same order as for the 1st session.→F K T Ta

T: I'm Toshiya, yoroshiku onegaishimasu

K: I'm Kyo.

The whole time during the 1st session K was turned slightly to the right, but during the 2nd session he was basically sitting facing F.

F: (after he talked about Rock-May-Kan footage) It's the first time you performed Ochita koto no aru sora. Did you have any trouble with it?

T: hm. Chorus is hard.

F: continues fast.

T: yeah. But you just practice and get used to playing it.

F: Shinya said that thanks to the rehearsal you did as the rhythm section songs he got them back quickly.

T: I see. He should be grateful😆

F: How about you, K? Any trouble?

K: don't know (he's looking to the left side of the venue)

F: you've only performed it once.

K: wah! (still intensely looking at the left wall of the venue or somewhere that direction)

F: 😱?! why are you looking there?? Can you see anything?!

K: thingy there is moving and moving...

F: whaaaaat, don't scare us like that!

K: ... (he continued to look there).

👻？😂

F: Didn't you play Jealous first time in a really long time? Wasn't it hard?

T: it wasn't a big surprise, we were planning it originally for the SOGAI tour.

F: the cancelled tour.

T: We were waiting until the last moment to see if we can go on with it or we have to cancel, so we had the proper rehearsal for the tour. So when rehearsing it for Rock-May-Kan show it didn't feel like it's been a long time.

F: K you said it was embarrassing to remember and perform it?

K made the 'robot move' from PV with a totally blank face😂

F: you also played Umbrella, so will you be playing more old songs?

K: Anything is okay except 'Toriko'. There's a drums solo in the end, it's so long and the switch to the next song gets so confusing.

T: How about we leave S and just go?

😂

Then they talked how Shinya fans and other fans would react.

K: Wouldn't fans be troubled with [he made the robot move]?

😆

F: you T don't mind old songs?

T: they're fine/no problem.

F moved the talk to the flyer and their new artist photo.

K: Auspicious/celebrating. Like New Year. And osechi.

F: I see, if using food to explain it's like osechi.

F: How was the filming of the PV?

T: Really long. But speaking of refreshing/Sawayaka, do you know the hamburger shop with that name?

F: it's in Shizuoka (F then again got very enthusiastic talking about how delicious is the meat there, how very juicy etc)

T: so PV is like that (like a juicy meat😂).

F: the single cover art is very unexpected for you.

K: I know and like this artist from before, I asked her to do it for us. I really like it.

After that was time for the merchandise topic. F announced that he confirmed that the rechargeable heat pack can also work as a charger/power bank. K who asked about it in Yokohama and was then told that no, it's just a heat pack just gave him such a look. F, you're not gonna get out of this alive😂

K: ...it'd be such a good item in winter, so it's for the next one? We don't sell it in winter, only for warm season. Wow, heat pack for the warm season...

/s by K👌💯

F started to enthusiastically advertise the towel saying like a muffler it can be worn on a cold day to keep you warm, and K...😂

But T was also poking so much fun at F with his reactions, 'oh I see! Wow!' 😂

T: I think we haven't had wristbands in a while.

K: what are you actually supposed to do with it?

F: you can wipe the sweat off (he gestured wiping sweat from his brow)?

K: I see. Then what about the towel then? (he also gestured using a towel with one hand and a wristband with the other at the same time [kinda like the Jealous robot move], the look he gave F and that pause when he waited for F to dare to answer, oh my, F, you're so dead🤣)

But T and Ta said that guitarists actually use it to keep sweat off their hands etc.

K: so with all of these fans are settled for the show at Tokyo Garden Theater? (F was nodding to all listed items) These and the ticket and we're good? And the train ticket? Ah no, commuter pass? What should they wear? (F: The hoodie) But then we don't sell any bottoms, should fans go without any pants? What? But we have two items to wipe sweat!

F: fans can bring the travel pouch, usb, they all fit perfectly in the bag! All good items especially if you come from outside of Tokyo.

K: and no bottoms😆

F: well, they need extra money for the ticket and their own bottoms.💦

F also advertised venue limited edition of Ochita.

K: so there are no plans for normal sale? When it gets sold out that's it?

F: yeah.

(it's contradictory with Kaoru's tweet, not sure if I trust F😂)

After that we moved to the section with questions from fans. F as usual split the papers so everyone got some, K this time didn't even read them, just putting them in F's pile😂 but then he was leaning over all the time trying to read what F was looking at😁

F said there many questions about where T stands on the seat choice.

T: on shinkansen I prefer window, on the airplane aisle.

F: why?

T: if I need to stand up to go to toilet etc it's easier.

F: but on the train you prefer a nice view, I see. Shinya said he prefers window seat any time.

T: He's a kid.

F then told her about the rest of the seat preference story (table down idea and S not needing to stand up at all).

F: "are you okay with the pineapple in a sweet and sour pork? Is there any food you're not okay with?"

K: I don't mind. I don't like milk and coriander. But there's something, not exactly food, that I totally hate. You know when you go to a shushi restaurant, conveyor belt sushi, there's alcohol to clean your hands. (K then said if there's a perfume like smell in it you can't enjoy food or something like that).

K (looking at the venue wall calmly): oh it moved.

F: WHAT??!😱

😂

T: I don't mind the pineapple, it's actually very good to help make meat more tender

F: Is there any food you hate, T?

T: The food F doesn't like.

(does it exist??😂)

K: F, you have to understand pineapple's feelings.

K: I thought you F would get pineapple's feelings.

F: I'll try to step in pineapple's shoes...

K: Pineapple is often disliked, but it's being helpful...

K tried to sway F a bit more into becoming a pineapple...

Ta: I'm ok with it, pineapple's feelings are safe.

T: "please tell us F's one good point and one thing you would like him to improve". F is so popular.

F: Not at all😅

K: despite the pineapple...

F: so, T?

T: He can appreciate food/has good appetite, is energetic. Something to fix is that he answers everything with そうっすね/yeahsure

F: K said something similar.

T: About Tooru (he used Takabayashi's given name), he's very good at laying groundwork for projects. Something to improve... well, when I think of something I'll let you know (to Ta).

Ta: Anytime.

K: Ta's good point, he does his job in a matter of fact manner. He doesn't exactly has something to fix, but he can't eat cheese, so fe when we go abroad he can't have pizza.

K: there are so many things F should fix.

F: That ﾊｲﾊｲﾊｲ・yeahyeahyeah

K: ...🙃 just answer with one proper はい

K also complained again about F's eating manners that he opens his mouth too much when eating, sometimes also will turn his head when eating ramen like it's easier to eat (K demostrated F eating posture, arms high and head turned - a bit like Jealous robot pose😆)

F: any good points?😆

K: ...hm. You make every place comfortable. I can relax with you, I wouldn't be speaking at all if you weren't here.

Both fans and F went 'Aaaaaw😊'

Ta: "are there any electronic goods you want right now?"

K: ...hm, solar panels.

F: does that count as electronic goods?

K: isn't it electronic? I want one you can put on the roof and make your own power.

T: yeah, solar panels would be nice.

K: And you can sell electricity to power companies. It's expensive at first, but after 10 years you can start make money, also you can use it if there's an earthquake.

F: can we get it at the store?

K: Why not, you could carry it home on your back!

F: Maybe not...

K: Can I put one on you F?

F: No.

K: then tattoo the giraffe on you, one long giraffe stretching from neck to knees.

F: You like giraffes.

K: Yes (noded)

K got so excited about the giraffe, F won't hear the emd of this idea😂

F: " do you have a favorite female idol or singer?"

K: This morning I was listening to Togawa Jun, レーダーマン.

F: you T?

T: No one in particular. But ones from the past.

F: like globe?

T: isn't it wrong age?

K: globe is the band with Sam?

F: I think that's TRF, in globe it's Mark Panther and Komuro Tetsuya.

F: "how about favorite artist or band you like?" Or just music you like.

K: I'm listening now to Sekiri (赤痢), an old female band.

F: foreign band?

K: From Japan, with 3 female members.

T: I just use shuffle, listen to music without choosing who to listen to.

F: It's a streaming age now.

T: Is it?😆

F: Ok we still have plenty of time, "what's your shoe size?"

K: 24.5, for sports shoes 25.5.

T: 27, for sports I go bigger, maybe 28 or 29. Boots are better just right. But why do you need such information?😅

F: Usually fans can't ask such things, like do you pull your hoodie strings? (?)

K: I don't.

T: it depends on my mood.

F: ok, not much time left now, we will finish soon.

T: but you just said we have plenty??😆

Ta: "what your favorite album/single cover art?"

T: to pick just one is tough.

Ta: S said that Oboro is in his top 5 now.

T: Favorite cover... hm... what is it, I know, MISSA!😆

F: it's cool, it has members photo.

T: it does?😂

K: For me its DUM. It really captured album's worldview.

F (unsure): are you angry?

K: S answered that Oboro is in his top 5 to the question what's your favorite? Why?😑

F explained the situation, that it wasn't to the same question, K just replied 'I see'.

And then when F just wanted to finish K said they should do all of the leftover questions, but without thinking too long, very rapid q&a

(and absolute nightmare to write down but so SO entertaining🤣 sorry I'm not sure about all the questions it was TOO FAST)

K: hurry up!

F: (something about some time in their life)

K: now, next.

F: what about T?

K just rushed him😆

F: food you want to eat now.

K: choboyaki

F: T, a fragrance you like (?)

T: Aroma.

F: sakura season will start soon, do you have favorite spot?

K: when is soon supposed to be?

F: T, is there something you want now?

T: No.

F: K, do you color your hair by yourself?

K: Yes, next.

F: Bread or rice?

T: Both.

F: what do you buy in convenience store?

K: sweets

F: what do you do first after waking up?

T: open eyes.

D: which convenience store do you like best?

K: Convenience store.

F: do you eat skin on the chicken?

T: I like the skin best.

F: (how do you deal with stress??)

K: stress.

F: T, do you sleep naked or wear pajama to bed?

T: Pajama.

F: (something about Oboro photo shoot???)

K did the robot move in reply😆

F: which style of clothes you like when shopping?

T: simple.

F: To finish, what's your favourite obento side dish?

K (gave F disbelieving look): You want to finish with this?

F: We asked others tok, everyone had different preferences.

K: what were other members answers?

F: for Kaoru green beans or asparagus, for S hamburger, Die... we talked yesterday, but what was it?

K (seriously): I like unagi.

(marinated eel is delicious, but also very expensive, so definitely not a side😅)

F: it's delicious.

K: It is.

T: is this really needed? Don't have one, just nothing that makes food soggy... Ah, but you know when you have a pickled plum on your rice, you move it and there's this pink spot with plum flavor? I like that!

Then it was really the end and time for the last comments.

Kyo: I don't have anything.

F: By this you surely mean you're looking forward to seeing everyone in May...

K (killer face): ...💢

Toshiya: Thank you for coming today. We are having a concert in Tokyo Garden Theater on May 6th, please come if you want to. Thank you.

#dir en grey #kyo #京 #toshiya #爆音会 #目黒鹿鳴館gig #talk event #attempt at live report

118 notes · View notes

openforjean · 4 years

Text

Just the help

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Warnings: +18, w/w, strap on, mommy kink, choking, oral sex, dom!reader and sub!nat, cheating

A/n: I dare someone to tell me to stop writing mommy kink. Do it.

pls rb doe

“Don’t bother me with that Nathan, ask the help to watch you. You should be in bed too, why are you even here? Y/n come take him.”

Those words from Mr. Smith will never not hurt. It’s really sad to think about but there is a plus to these words.

You’re fucking his wife.

His beautiful, gorgeous, sweet wife; Natasha. Natasha Romanoff was a woman who could never be stopped but did for an idiot man. Ian Smith, there’s nothing special about him other than his bank account. Mr. Smith doesn’t know about you and Natasha, he’s rarely home to begin with to suspect anything. Which isn’t a bad thing, you enjoy having domestic moments with Natasha and her kids.

But, you’re just the help.

You help her with the kids, and you do the chores. You’re a nanny, essentially.

No matter how much you love Natasha, she can’t love you back. Remember that.

It all started when you found Natasha crying in the bedroom. Ian had told her that she was a bad mother. Which is untrue, Natasha is the best you’ve ever met. She’s caring, very protective and generous. Every night she insists on reading her two kids a bedtime story, she does the normal mom stuff too. She’s just perfect, she’s supportive of Nathan and Jonah; her twin boys. Both of them are angels, adventurous too. Jumping on every couch, exploring every cabinet, hiding in every closet.

Nathan frowns, his shoulders fall and you walk closer to him, It hurts to see Mr. Smith dismiss his son, it pains you. All Nathan wanted to do was show him his drawing of a giraffe. You pick him up and carry him away. His arms are limp, the sadness radiates off him. You take him back to his shared bedroom with Jonah. You enter the room and Jonah is fast asleep, you place Nathan down.

You start to hear the bickering between Mr. Smith and Natasha and you decide to go close the door. You sit on the edge of his bed. He tosses the paper to the end of his bed and curls up into a ball. You frown and you reach for the paper.

“This is really good, Nathan. You get better every day, wow. What’s the giraffe’s name?” You say. Nathan relaxes and pulls his covers up to him.

“Megatron,” Nathan responds with a smile.

“Interesting, is he a transformer?” You ask. Nathan shifts in his bed, he lays on his back and yawns.

“No, just a giraffe.” The bickering gets louder and turns into arguing. You hear a door slam and heavy, fast footsteps.

“-but a transformer giraffe sounds cool too,” Nathan says.

“Yeah, yeah it would.” You say as you ruffle his hair and kiss his cheek goodnight.

“Did you brush?” You ask as you get off Nathan’s bed.

“Yes, Jonah made me,” Nathan grumbles. You chuckle and wish him goodnight. You press a kiss on Jonah’s cheek as well and you quietly exit. You hear soft cries from the master bedroom and it could only be one person. You wish you could kill Ian, he’s such an ass. Natasha and the boys deserve so much better.

You enter Natasha’s room, knowing she’s getting ready for bed too. You see Natasha sitting on her vanity, she spots your reflection and smiles. You walk closer to her back, but not too close; a respectable amount. Her face is red and her cheeks are wet.

“Natasha, is everything okay?” You ask. Natasha stares at herself in the mirror, there’s no emotion in her eyes. It’s like she’s dead.

“Na-”

“I want you, Y/n. Y/n, not the help,” Natasha says. Still staring into the mirror.

You nod.

Shit like that makes your heart jump. She says she wants you, princess gets everything she wants.

“Beg.” Natasha turns her body to face you.

“Please Y/n, I want you. I want you so bad. I want to feel you in me, please fuck me,” Natasha pleads. The wetness between your panties grows.

“Get on the bed and don’t touch yourself,” You command. Natasha peels her thin pink robe off in front of you, in an attempt to tease you. You pull her to you and smack her ass, she moans. You kiss her.

She tastes like cherries, smells like flowers and her skin is so smooth. She pulls away and tells you where the strap is.

Eating Natasha out is so good. Her screams are so loud, she’s so sensitive too. Her tits bounce with every flick you do. She came at least three times so far, you think it’s time now to enter her.

You get on your knees and Natasha is below you, whimpering and glowing with sweat. She looks at the dildo and bites her lip. You take the dildo and lower your head to spit on it. You stroke the toy and lower yourself to kiss her. Her tongue is skilled, she knows how to use it. You enter her, slowly. She moans into the kiss and wraps her arms around your waist.

You’re halfway in her cunt and she reaches down to your ass and pulls you farther into her. She groans.

“Mommy wants to be fucked hard, huh?” You ask as you rock into, increasing the speed.

“Yes, yes,” Natasha says breathlessly.

The bed creaks with every thrust, your hand wraps around her throat.

“Mm. do you like that? You like being choked, play with your clit. I wanna see you cum,” you say. Her hand travels down her stomach and begins to rub herself. She hisses as you tighten the grip around her throat harder. You latch onto her nipple and start sucking on it too. You pound into her with your hand still around her throat. While you suck on her nipple.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Y/n! I’m gonna cum,” She screams. She increases the speed on her clit and the knot inside her stomach explodes with pleasure. You let go of her throat and slow your speed down, but still sucking on her nipple as she rides her orgasm out.

Her chest heaves. You pull away from her chest, you stop moving in her. You look down at her while she’s in her euphoric moment.

The feelings bubble, your heart soars and then breaks. Natasha shifts for you to get off. You pull out and she leaves from the bed, grabbing her phone. She calls Ian.

You’re only a nanny. This is wrong. She doesn’t love you. You’re the help, like Mr. Smith said.

Just the help.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #black widow smut #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #black widow x y/n #black widow x #scarlett johansson smut #nat smut #women of marvel smut

752 notes · View notes

aceofspadegrass · 3 years

Text

Pancake Day, but Better

Characters: Niragi Suguru, Dori Sakurada, Last Boss, Cabot, Aguni Morizono, Chishiya Shuntaro, Hatter

Genre: Crack Part 2, now with pancakes.

1.9k words

Prompt: Can you do like a sequel for that dori and niragi crack,cause i want to see dori in pancake day and introducing himself to chishiya,last boss(and catbot)aguni,and hatter. And i have an urge that maybe hatter would like him because how he dresses himself how hatter likes it to be,also chishiya would just go up to niragi and say" Wow, he's actually even more better then you niragi. Maybe he's smarter then you too" As he walks away leaving a a angry niragi - @a-simp-20

(Counts as a Part 2 to this)

*Rubs hands together* Heck yeah, more gentle chaos. Time to gently bully this giraffe lizard man again.

Now with the added addition of pancakes! Fun times for all!

Despite the laws of the Borderlands and the highly likely chance that nobody knows the actual date that passes by, people still managed to produce what someone offhandedly referred to as the 'Borderlands Holy Day'.

Now, what pray tell was the Borderlands Holy Day? Was it a religion?

Despite the fact that it had 'Holy' in its name, no. It wasn't a religion. Although if someone tried hard enough it could become almost like a cult. Wouldn't be the first time.

So what was it?

Well, obviously.....

It was Pancake Friday. The greatest day of the century. The premise was simple enough: Every Friday everyone gets a pancake. A single pancake. Want more? Well, you better bet and compete for other people's pancakes. The only thing more exhilarating to the members of the Beach than winning games and living another day to party and do fuck-all was Pancake Day.

So, of course, when Friday rolled around, people weren't thinking of anything except the spoils of little bets and competitions over the week, thick fluffy pancakes topped with whatever they pleased and whatever the Beach had in stock at the time. Even Niragi was thinking about pancakes, because what's better than bragging about how many pancakes you got that week?

Nothing, that's what.

Pancake Day was great.

Niragi walks down the corridor with the strut of a man that knew he was feared, and he heads to the dining area where the pancakes would inevitably be given out. People were already there, a few making last minute bets in an attempt to win just a little extra amount for the day. Niragi found it almost amusing. Such a pitiful sight. Niragi himself had already gained a total of four whole pancakes, two of which he won off of some idiot who just thought he was really pretty.

" There's a lot of people here. It must be really important, right?" A smooth voice pipes up from just a little behind him, and Niragi is reminded quite forcefully that he didn't come here alone.

" Of course it's important, it's Pancake Day! Haven't you ever heard of it?" Niragi spat, Sakurada merely shrugging and walking away to talk to other members of the Beach. Niragi scoffs and storms away. At least he didn't have to think about the other him anymore, no matter how neat he looked.

He ends up finding Last Boss standing in the corner by himself, watching everyone else with a self made distance, leaning against his katana. His cat was chilling right besides his foot, apparently having her snack before the pancakes came out and making quiet eating noises. Niragi made sure not to accidentally step on her, which wasn't that hard to do. Niragi stares at Last Boss almost expectantly, waiting for even the slightest hint of a greeting, but all the other man does is stare ahead, lost in his own thought.

So, like a completely normal person would do to a guy ignoring the other, Niragi starts poking Last Boss in the side with his sniper rifle.

" Hey. Hey. Hey. You awake?"

Last Boss just continues to ignore him, and Niragi's pokes get a little harder the more he gets ignored. " Hey! Why are you ignoring me! Come on!"

Last Boss finally looks in his direction, and Niragi grins in victory, Last Boss just staring at him blankly. " Fucking finally, you were ignoring me."

Last Boss just continues to remain silent, but Niragi didn't care, instead putting his rifle back to balance on his shoulder as he looks out among the people still puttering about. Niragi could barely make out that Sakurada guy, who was talking to some random nobodies, Niragi scoffing to himself. He points him out to Last Boss, whose gaze follows the direction of Niragi's slender finger.

" See that one? Yeah, that one busted into my room and kept spraying me with water, the nerve of that guy."

Last Boss mutters something under his breath, Niragi not picking it up properly. He glances at Last Boss suspiciously, Last Boss just continuing to stare off at Sakurada without any sign of emotion on his tattooed face. Niragi groans, and he looks back in the direction of Sakurada, only to see that somehow the bastard has disappeared. Niragi frowns and looks around from where he stood to see whether he could see him again, but no dice.

The area was getting more and more full the longer Niragi tried looking, to the point that he gave up even trying. At some point Last Boss' cat had finished her snack, and he could feel Cabot rubbing her body across his legs as well just for the hell of it. He looks down at the feline, Cabot just doing her own thing like she usually did.

" Hey you little fuck. What's up." Niragi mutters down at the cat, Cabot just continuing on her little rub spree before going over to Last Boss and meowing loudly until Last Boss bent down and picked her up, Cabot resting happily with her butt in the crook of Last Boss' arm and her head and front paws draped over his shoulder.

Niragi rolls his eyes at the sight, and finally the time had come, Hatter walking in with the utmost grace, people cheering him like they do every time they see the man, with Aguni not that far behind. Niragi and Last Boss head towards the little stage Hatter insisted needed to be built for Pancake Day, standing in position as Aguni joins them, Hatter going up to the Pancake Podium.

" Greetings everyone! Today is the glorious and absolutely magnificent Pancake Day! I hope all of you have worked hard to acquire your pancakes!" Hatter shouts with arms outstretched like a bird's, people cheering and whooping excitedly. " I, for one, have a total of five whole pancakes, as throughout the week I have worked hard to get them from my loyal and beautiful members, and that one person who sadly perished in a game and bequeathed their pancakes to me for many months to come! May their soul be at rest, the courage of them~" Hatter announces, the crowd going wild.

" Now, may the pancakes commence!"

People scattered to tables near immediately, and the kitchen doors open as the designated chefs come out with the freshly made pancakes on carts. Niragi and Last Boss end up following Aguni and the rest of the executives plus Hatter to what was apparently the special table, used only by them.

Niragi grins as he leans back in his chair. At least Sakurada would stay away for now-

" Oh, there you are!"

Speak of the devil. Niragi shuts his eyes in annoyance as his clone comes over. Several pairs of eyes shoot to him, and despite his eyes being closed, Niragi could still feel the smug and interested smile Chishiya was giving off.

" Oh? And who are you, you splendid looking being?" Hatter's voice rings out. " Your outfit is immaculate, but I have never seen you before. No, wait...... I have seen you! Except less fancier. And usually with a hat. Who is sitting right there."

Niragi wanted to shoot this man so bad.

"My name is Sakurada Dori, it is very nice to meet you." Sakurada greets them.

Niragi finally bothers to open his eyes as Hatter stands up, and apparently does a quick check over of Sakurada, nodding to himself. " Yes, you are absolutely stunning. I love what you've done!"

" Are you the one that made Niragi take off his hat?" Aguni asks, low and stoic as always. Niragi rolls his eyes at that. He didn't intend to get rid of his hat, Sakurada just kind of yeeted it outside his window without even asking. The nerve of this guy.

Sakurada quickly nods. " I will get him another hat eventually, as I promised, but only as long as he shoots his gun responsibly!"

" Is that so...." Aguni mutters, and just kind of nods like a sort of proud dad.

Hatter grins even wider, and claps Sakurada across the back. " Now that's some courage! Hey, what say you, would you like one of Niragi's pancakes? As a sign of strength!"

" What?!" Niragi shouts, and he stands up, slamming the table. Aguni watches him quietly, as does Last Boss, the latter just staring more than a tired gaze like Aguni was sporting at the moment. " You can't do that!"

" But I can! I'm the leader after all, I can say what I want, and what I want is practically law here, Niragi. Remember who your boss is." Hatter smiles at Niragi in that sort of way that Niragi hated, but a firm tap on his arm by Aguni made him relent, Niragi angrily muttering to himself as he sat back down.

" Ah, thank you very much, but I don't need to take his-"

" Nonsense, you deserve it! Besides, Niragi already gets... how many?"

" Well I had four, but apparently not anymore."

" Three is plenty for you! Anyways, so that means you get two pancakes, you funky little ball of glory!" Hatter states.

" Are you sure? Is that alright with you Niragi?" Sakurada looks to the man, Niragi just grumbling some more.

" Don't worry about him, he'll get over it." Chishiya mentions, and Niragi quickly glares at him, Chishiya casually looking back with that damn smug ass smile on his lips.

" Fucking undercooked egg white." Niragi mutters under his breath, Chishiya just continuing to smirk.

Still, the pancakes arrive to their table, Hatter inviting Sakurada to sit with them for the day so he could talk about fashion, mainly about what kinds of hats the other liked, Sakurada easily falling into conversation with him. Niragi just drowns his now three pancakes in maple sauce, grumbling under his breath.

Last Boss was watching Niragi just nearby, eating his single pancake as Cabot got to treat herself to two whole cat-specified pancakes like she deserved, and goes to whisper to his cat, Cabot flicking her tail a little at whatever Last Boss muttered.

" You have a very nice cat there! It must be enjoying everything since it appears to be very well cared for and happy." Sakurada mentions at one point, Last Boss staring at Sakurada silently. Sakurada just politely smiles back, and Last Boss just slowly blinks, then nods.

" Thank.... you." Last Boss says, and Cabot looks up finally, and bumps her body against Last Boss, the man quietly petting her as Sakurada watches with a happy expression at how sweet the sight was. Sakurada makes small clicking nosies in an attempt to beckon the cat over to him, Cabot meowing and wandering over curiously, sniffing at Sakurada's fingers before letting herself get pet by the man softly. " She seems to like me already!" Sakurada says happily, Last Boss slowly nodding.

" That's good. She likes being pet gently." Last Boss mutters, and even Hatter tried to get in on the cat patting session.

" Hey Niragi." Chishiya's voice catches Niragi's attention, and he looks up at him, already despising of what he was about to spew out from his lips. The limestone fox man just smiles at him, pancakes already gone from his plate.

" The fuck do you want now."

" Your clone is actually way better than you. Perhaps even smarter than whatever half brain you have up there." Chishiya remarks, and with that he stands up and walks away from the table, immediately sliding himself into a group of people leaving and disappearing from his sight.

" YOU LITTLE FUC-" He whips out his gun, ready to chase Chishiya down and kill him like he always wanted to.

Water gets immediately sprayed on his face the second he stands up again, Niragi sputtering. " No. Bad Niragi."

34 notes · View notes

celestialtitania · 3 years

Text

whatever it is (whatever it isn't)

A big thank you to my lovely betas @anabielvriskamars and @kellynicole515! Read it on AO3 or FFN.

Norman watches Emma play with Phil and Shery, a small smile growing on his face as he waits for his coffee to brew. He knew her memories were wiped away, but at the core she was still the same Emma he had always known.

The one always ready to make a ruckus with the kids. Naïve but determined. Strong but pure. He chuckles as the kids give her a big hug before rushing to get to school on time.

"Come on," he beckons Emma. "You need to eat, too." She gives him a sheepish grin as she sits next to him on the table, forgoing the coffee for some orange juice. He hands her a plate of toast, marmalade already applied just how she likes it and tells her to eat.

She wrinkles her nose, putting the plate back down on the table. "Um, thanks Norman. I don't really like the taste of marmalade though," she sighs. "But wasting food is even worse," she sighs at the toast again.

Ray rolls his eyes at her as he sets down his own plate of toast. "You hate marmalade that much?"

Emma nods emphatically, "It's bitter and feels leathery." She gingerly pokes at the toast, looking as though all of her energy had been sucked away.

Norman frowns at her words but Ray just hums. "You're alright with butter?" She blinks as he gestures towards his plate of toast. Emma's face brightens as she happily swaps the two plates and begins to eagerly eat the breakfast Ray had prepared.

Norman sits there feeling quite confused. Emma had always preferred marmalade over something as plain as butter. He's about to ask when it occurs to him. The products must taste different from the demon and human worlds; after all, they were prepared differently. Mystery solved, Norman basks in joy at having the chance to speak with Emma and Ray without an imminent threat out to get them. Each and every moment was precious now, regardless. Norman has been through too much to ever think otherwise.

After breakfast, they go with Emma to visit her Gramps, the old man who had found her and taken her in two years ago. As they walk through the town, Norman expects to see Emma jumping excitedly or wanting to frolic in the snow. She does neither and the only time she lets out her exuberant nature is when Gramps opens the door.

The old man is clearly delighted to see her, just as much as she is to see him. Another thing about Emma that will never change. She has a way of drawing people to her wherever she goes. He'd seen it countless times, just her words and compassion changing enemies into friends, back in the Demon World.

They talk while Norman and Ray quietly sit and listen. They appear to have several inside jokes but that's only to be expected after living alone together for two years. At the end of their visit, Emma gives the old man a big hug before he takes Norman and Ray aside to thank them.

"She was alone when I met her. I probably wouldn't have gotten through my grief without her. You boys take care of her now, you hear me?"

Norman practically glows as he assures the man that he would do his very best to keep her safe and happy. Beside him, Ray appears thoughtful before voicing his own thoughts.

"Emma likes to take care of herself and she's still figuring out what makes her happy, but we'll always be there for her when she needs us," he says seriously. Norman thought that was a simple answer, especially when they had firsthand knowledge of what made Emma happy.

But the old man looks rather pleased as he laughs out loud. "Well said," he claps both boys on the back before he leaves them with Emma. The trio decide to take a look around the market before heading back home. Emma marvels at the sights but doesn't seem at all eager to purchase things. He'd expected Emma to point out all the things, the other kids would love.

Norman supposes it would be hard to buy things for them when she doesn't fully know their tastes anymore. Not that he would let something like that stop him from making sure Emma was having a good time.

His eyes light up as he spots a plush toy stall. He has an idea which he thinks is absolutely brilliant and was sure to put a smile on Emma's face. He separates from Emma and Ray, brushing off their questions and promising to catch up with them in just a moment.

Puzzled, they agree heading over to one of the food stalls. Norman smiles as he wonders why the idea never struck him before. Even if she didn't remember wanting to, the desire had to come from somewhere.

He picks the best quality the shop has before paying and rushing out of the store. He taps Emma on the shoulder before holding the plush in front of his face. Slowly, he lowers it to see her surprised expression.

"For you," he hands the plush giraffe to her waiting expectantly to see her smile joyously. Emma does smile but it's a confused one. She thanks him as she stares at the giraffe.

"Are you trying to tell me that I'm short?" She asks him after a moment. Norman tilts his head and asks her to explain her thought process.

"You know," she waves the giraffe around. "You're much taller than I am. Is this your way of saying you feel like a giraffe next to me?" She's frowning at him but her eyes show her amusement.

He can't help it. He throws his head back and laughs because that did sound like the sort of thing he would do. Emma tries not to but she's snickering with him while Ray rolls his eyes in the background.

Once they've caught their breath, Norman shakes his head. "No, I mean, I know it isn't big enough to ride but it's still cute right?"

Emma looks at him blankly, so Norman expands on his point. "Uh, some of the younger kids were saying that they wanted to ride a giraffe one day so I thought maybe you would too?" It sounds weak, even to his own ears but Norman didn't want to make Emma feel subconscious about not remembering the past.

Emma hums in response. "Ahh, sorry Norman," she apologizes sincerely. "It's a nice gesture but I'm not too interested in riding a giraffe. They're kinda weird looking, don't you think?" She giggles but Norman is frozen.

"But it's a giraffe," he repeats helplessly. Emma looks over at Ray who simply sighs and walks over to Norman, who is still asking how Emma could possibly dislike giraffes. Ray tries to get Norman to stop talking but something in Emma's expression changes.

"Oh, I must have used to like giraffes, that's it right?" Ray winces as Norman is forced to nod, there was no way to lie to Emma's face. "But now I don't. That must hurt you."

Norman nods again, an uncomfortable feeling growing in his stomach. Emma has never looked at him like this before and it hurts.

Norman opens his mouth to try and speak but Emma keeps talking before he can get even a syllable out.

"I thought you said it was okay that I was different from who I used to be," Emma asks, the expression on her face is unreadable but Norman can hear the quiver in her voice.

Norman winces as he shakes his head. He's reaching out, trying to form a physical connection to Emma but she steps back, a small frown beginning to appear on her face. "Were you just lying or did you think there wouldn't be a difference to begin with?"

Norman flinches, the words he'd said to Emma at their reunion coming back to him. He'd known she wouldn't be the same naïve and reckless girl. He'd prepared himself for someone who was more cautious and quiet.

"It's the little things," comes spilling out, unintentionally but it's enough to give Emma pause. She raises an eyebrow, clearly expecting him to explain himself. Norman swallows hard as he tries to come up with a way to tell her how he felt without hurting her.

"He was in love with you," Ray says bluntly, making Norman gape in shock. Emma's jaw drops as she turns to stare at Norman with wide eyes. Norman closes his eyes, as the pit in his stomach grows larger while mentally cursing Ray. But he also knows there was no other way to explain how he was feeling.

"You're still Emma," he reassures her. "You carry love and kindness in spades, especially for your family. You're bright and optimistic and that's the Emma that I fell in love with. It really doesn't matter how much you've changed to me because at the core, you're still Emma. It's just...we used to be best friends. I knew Emma better than I know myself."

Here Norman pauses to take a breath and try to decipher Emma's reaction. She still looks surprised but he can't figure out what she's thinking. Instead, he presses on.

"For the longest time, the only thing I could rely on was my brain. I've always known the right path to take, I can trust my knowledge. But now...you're still Emma but it's like I hardly know you. I know why that is but I still have trouble accepting that, of all people, I don't know things like your favourite flower or something." Norman flails an arm to emphasize his feelings.

Emma is biting her lip, seemingly deep in thought while a glance at Ray shows him studying the ground with intense fascination.

"It's not that I don't want to learn more about the new you, because I do! It's just become a habit to think I know what Emma loves and when I'm proven wrong, it's like the world has flipped on its head for me."

Norman bows his head, waiting for either Ray or Emma to speak now that his confession is over. They both remain silent. Finally, he looks up in exasperation.

Emma is staring up at the sky, looking completely lost while Ray is trying his hardest not to laugh.

"Guys?" Norman asks hesitantly and the flood gates open. Emma is sighing at him loudly while Ray laughs so hard he can't breathe.

"Stupid Norman," Ray chortles while Emma nods her head in agreement. While Norman gives them an affronted look, Emma shakes her head.

"Norman, you've already done the hard part," she finally says to him.

"What," Norman asks blankly; the conversation was going in a direction he didn't expect and he was left completely lost.

"As far as you're concerned, it's just confusing that the little things have changed right? Not that you wish the other Emma was here instead?"

Norman's eyes widen because that was a question which he has never even considered. He anxiously thrums his fingers on his leg, to ground himself while trying his best to answer honestly. "I won't lie and say that I don't miss the Emma I grew up with, but I appreciate her sacrifice. I meant it when I said that the best thing was for me to know you were happy and safe. That's all I've ever wanted for Emma."

"The little things that give you so much trouble? They would've been different, regardless. People's tastes change y'know and you've been separated from Emma for four years now," Ray rolls his eyes at Norman. Norman winces because those four years of separation weren't something he liked to think about.

"Maybe it's the way you're going about it? You want to think of me as the same but different at the same time," Emma muses, putting a finger on her chin as she turns to Ray.

"Huh?" Norman isn't even going to pretend he has any idea where this conversation is going.

Ray nods, "Norman is kind of stupid like that, he won't get it any other way."

Emma grins before sticking her hand out towards him. Norman stares at it, utterly baffled.

"Hi, I'm Emma!" Her eyes flick meaningfully towards her outstretched hand as she smiles beatifically at him.

"I know who you are?" Norman questions, eyes darting between Emma and Ray. Ray gives him a look, practically ordering him to play along so Norman does, quickly shaking Emma's hand and introducing himself.

"Get to know me from scratch," Emma tells him, leaving no room for argument. "Then those little things won't come as a surprise." She looks down, letting out a small laugh. "We'll kind of be on the same playing field that way."

That sends a shock through his system. Emma was working so hard to get to know all of them again, that included the little things which were second nature for those who had grown up together. She was struggling just as much as he was.

Norman smiles. "It's nice to meet you!" He chirps excitedly, warmth spreading through him at Emma's grateful look. Norman slings his arms around his two best friends. "I love you both," he tells them firmly. "Emma is new but I have no idea what I'd be doing without you, Ray."

Emma let out a startled laugh as Ray tries to shove Norman away while he hangs on stubbornly. Soon enough all three of them are laughing like there was no tomorrow.

In between laughs, they catch each other's eyes and Norman is content with the knowledge that things will be better from here on out.

@tpnfanworks

#the promised neverland #yakusoku no neverland #tpn #fullscore trio #emma #norman #ray #noremma #rayemma #norayemma #post canon #canon compliant #hurt/comfort #giraffes

40 notes · View notes

seiin-translations · 3 years

Text

2.43 S1 Chapter 3.5 - The Dog’s View and the Giraffe’s View

5. READY FOR SUMMER

You think Aoki reads shonen manga?

This is the end of the first half of the first season, a.k.a the first tankobon volume. I’ll be going on a short hiatus for a few week before coming back.

Stan Odacchi!

Previous || Index || Next

Thrusting a CalorieMate bar into his mouth and holding a sports drink in his hand, when he rushed to the washroom near the gym, he suddenly ran into Aoki. Aoki took one look at Oda’s face and widened his eyes for a moment, then cautioned him with a disgusted look on his face.

“You should stop it with that…in my opinion.”

“Can’t be helped. I didn’t have the time to eat lunch or go to the washroom.”

The CalorieMate had sucked up his saliva and was sticking to his mouth. He put the box that still had some left and the bottle on top of the urinal and lined up next to Aoki.

Immediately after serving as an assistant referee on the courtside, he immediately jumped into his own team’s match, served as an assistant referee again on the same court as soon as it was over, plus he had to keep an eye on the progress of the entire boys’ volleyball division, support the participants and instruct the other members… Needless to say, he didn’t have time to take a lunch break, and he wasn’t allowed to go to the washroom since morning. Still, Oda only had to watch the gym, but Aoki was frequently pulled back by runners from the executive committee’s tent on top of that. This was the first time he was able to make time to talk to Aoki face to face.

It was finally the day of the Seiin Ballgame Festival. Luckily, the last few days were breaks in the rainy season, and the event was held on a day that didn’t interfere with outdoor events. In fact, the weather was so favorable that the temperature has reached July-like levels, and the executive committee has been repeatedly urging people to be careful about heat stroke.

Boys’ volleyball had managed finish four of their six group games without incident on the stage side of the gym. According to gossip, from the first group Team C, led by Aoki, had two wins, and from the second group Team F, led by Oda, had two wins, so it had already been decided that they would clash in the finals. The remaining two games would be elimination games that didn’t make it past the preliminaries, whether they win or lose, but since points were added depending on the points won, the overall winner was still unknown.

“It’d be interesting if we train Okuma to be a center.”

Aoki said next to him as he relieved himself. As ever, Aoki’s shoulder was at the corner of his vision.

“Okuma’s on the rugby team, isn’t he?”

“Well, it’s just an idea. If we had a burly guy like that, we’d look a bit stronger, right? Suemori-san said boys’ volleyball is soft.”

“It’s all about looks?”

“It’s important to look scary, you know?”

Well, when he puts it that way, it’s true that even though Aoki is the tallest guy in school, he’s more “long” than “big,” so he doesn’t look all that burly. He’s a center whose traits are height and dexterity. Okuma’s likely to be a different type of center than Aoki though…

“Well, enough about Okuma. I want Haijima more.”

“You’re pretty fixated on Haijima.”

“What kind of guy wouldn’t fall in love with that play? You’ve seen him play two games, didn’t you?”

“I know he’s good, but that’s not enough. It’d be nice to have a character who can speak up and get the team going, but he’s the complete opposite of that. Your team isn’t attracting any amateurs, right? For events like these, it’s better to have a noisy guy like Okuma.”

“So you want Okuma more than Haijima? Aren’t you being pretty cold to him?”

He couldn’t help but sound grumpy. He understood Aoki’s objective point of view. However, he got angry when he was told things objectively.

“Hmm? No.”

Aoki’s voice was light, and his shoulders turned slightly towards him.

“I’m talking about the ballgame tournament. The captain of this team is you, and if that’s what you want, then I won’t object to it and cooperate with you. If you want, I can find Haijima’s weakness so he can’t refuse no matter what.”

“I don’t need that kind of shady business.”

When he glared at him sideways, his shoulders shook with laughter. “It’s a joke.” It’s scary because this guy actually does those things that seem like a joke.

“We don’t need Haijima’s weakness for him to join. The problem might be Kuroba. He’s doing well so far today, but I don’t know what’ll happen when he comes face to face with Haijima in the finals.”

“Just have them match up. A feud between freshmen would be all cleared up if they just punch each other once hard and tell each other their true thoughts, don’t you think?”

Aoki said carefreely while lightly shaking his hips up and down, then tucked his thing back in and left the urinal.

In the case of you and me, we missed our chance to go through the process of punching each other and saying our true thoughts, and now we’re here… Oda watched the tall silhouette disappear across the label of his plastic bottle with a look like he wanted to say something.

Even though he and Aoki had their disagreements, they always ended up sidestepping the issue instead of getting into a serious quarrel. Even though Aoki would attack others with a sharp tongue as much as he wanted if necessary, but when it came to Oda, he would take a step back. He didn’t have to retract his opinion if there was something about Haijima’s acquisition he didn’t like. I’m not such a tyrant that I won’t respect the opinion of the vice captain.

Oda still wasn’t convinced about how he was chosen as captain in the first place. Whenever Aoki gave him his due because he was the captain, it stimulated a deep sense of inferiority within him.

When the grade before them retired, Aoki was to be appointed as the next captain. He had a mild and calm personality, able to keep an eye on the whole team. He was the natural choice.

At the same time, Oda was advised to switch from attacker to libero. The introduction of the libero system had opened up a place for people with short statures to play an active role. They could only substitute with a back row player and couldn’t participate in the spikes and blocks in the front row, but a receive specialist was an essential position in modern volleyball. It wasn’t that the previous captain had any ill intent, but rather that he knew that Oda poured more passion into volleyball than anyone else.

However, right with that timing, Aoki jumped into the student council. As though he was purposely creating a situation where Oda was compelled to be the captain—he couldn’t hold an important position on the student council and be a team captain for club activities at the same time. That was why Aoki couldn’t take on the role of captain. And under the current rules, the libero couldn’t in effect be the captain. In other words, as long as Oda had no choice but to be captain, he couldn’t switch to libero. Oda truly felt humiliated at being stripped of the attacker position. Because Aoki had sensed that.

What’s with you? Was that pity for me, who never grew taller? Or was it the freedom of a tall guy? He was angry. However, he was unable to lay bare such ugly emotions in front of Aoki and in the end, it didn’t turn into a serious conflict at the time. The comfortable relationship that they had since they started high school had somehow created a wall instead, and there was an atmosphere where it would be too awkward to share their feelings at this point.

Although Aoki was his best friend and a trustworthy partner who was more easy to get on with than anyone, he also harbored a strangely twisted gloominess towards him.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

It was awkward, so he purposely waited for Aoki to leave the washroom before he did so himself, but he saw a tall and narrow back staying in the corridor in front of the gym. From the other direction, Suemori appeared and suddenly spoke in a reproaching tone.

“Oda-senpai, why were you taking your time in the washroom? Please don’t make me wait here.”

“I don’t remember telling you to wait…You could have given me a shout if there’s anything to take care of.”

“I don’t want to go near the boys’ washroom.”

Oda nonchalantly put his hand behind him, feeling that the food and drinks he brought out from the washroom were dirty. I’ve been slightly thinking this for a while, but I wonder if Suemori hates men. But she seems to be able to talk to Kanno normally.

“So, what’s up?”

“The old teacher collapsed.”

Aoki answered in place of Suemori.

“What!?”

The advisor for the boys’ volleyball team was an elderly teacher, just as Aoki called him. They’ve heard that he was rehired on a part-time basis once he reached retirement age. Apparently, he used to play volleyball when he was a student, but the form of the game of volleyball should be quite different between then and now. He was like a fossil from his generation.

The advisor had been the referee for the entire competition without a break since this morning. Even they, as active high school students, were likely to collapse from the hectic bustle, so it would be even harder on the elderly.

It seemed that he was feeling dizzy from the heat due to the temperature in the gym having risen. They said it wasn’t serious, but the referee’s chair was now vacant. There were still three matches left. Either Oda or Aoki should be the referee for the remaining two games in the group league, but the problem was the finals where C and F would encounter each other. Since the other positions also had the bare minimum amount of people in them, there were no extra hands.

“Well, I’ll do it.”

Aoki said without missing a beat.

“Aren’t you competing?”

“I don’t mind. From the start, I prioritized administration, so if there’s not enough people, I was going to pull out and head over there, but…ah, there’d be a problem with me refereeing a match with my own team.”

“You say that, but there’s no other way. I want to give Kanno a chance to be in a game, and there’s no reason to bother pulling Kuroba out. On the contrary, isn’t the balance better now that we have two experienced people on each team?”

“Even if it was still three on two, we won’t lose. It’s not that…it’s no fun if you’re not gonna be playing.”

He felt like he was the only one being childish and having a tantrum at a time when everyone had to back each other up, and his voice got quieter and quieter. He couldn’t bear knowing that Aoki and Suemori were exchanging worried-looking glances over his head. But he still didn’t like Aoki’s quick and easy way of splitting them up. Was I the only one who was looking forward to the match…?

“If that’s the case, let’s make it a little more interesting.”

Aoki proposed in a light tone. When he looked up with suspicion in his eyes, Aoki had a pensive look on his face with a faint smile hovering at the corner of his mouth. He looked like that when he was about to plot something.

“In other words, you’re saying it’s boring because you’re not in it. In the first place, you say ‘take’, but do you even have their approval…?”

“I’ll persuade Okuma. Of course that’s if C wins. If F wins, you’ll persuade Haijima. However, if you lose, you’ll have to give up on Haijima once and for all. —Kuroba!”

Aoki suddenly yelled. Kuroba, who had suddenly been poking his head in from the metal doors on the gym side of the corridor, made a “Mrp” sound and ducked his head.

“You and Nagato both don’t want Haijima to join, right? You were listening in on our conversation just now. Since it’s like that, crush them to bits. Treat this match like a real game.”

***

The chief referee for the finals was Aoki. The assistant referee, the point displayer, and two linesmen were all members of the team who weren’t playing in the game. The other two linesman and the ball retriever were help from the girls’ team, including Suemori.

It was past four o’clock in the afternoon, but heat was coming down the roof, which had been scorched by the midday sun, and accumulated indoors. The windless court wasn’t just completely covered in heat, but also some kind of strangely oppressive atmosphere.

As the team members took their positions around the court, they sensed a strange tension in the court that went beyond a mere school event, and their expressions tightened. Only Aoki had his usual relaxed expression, and he wondered what he was scheming. The way the already-tall Aoki stood on the referee’s stand and looked down at the court already somewhat made it a “tower.”

There were some spectators gathered along the walls and on the stage. The gallery installed on the second floor was also overflowing with students in sportswear. He thought that since it coincided with the futsal and softball finals, the spectators would be drawn to that, but it seemed that a surprisingly large number of people had come just to watch. Across the partition net, on the other side of the court, the girls’ basketball game was being held. The random bouncing of a ball other than a volleyball was jarring to his ears—he might be getting a bit nervous himself. He shrugged his shoulders up and down to release the extra energy. He was already sweating just by standing.

Team F got the serve through rock-paper-scissors. Haijima would serve from the right back row, and Oda would start diagonally from him at the front left. The opposing Team C’s starting order had Kanno at the front right and Kuroba in the back left. With two volleyball veterans placed diagonally from each other and sandwiching and supporting the amateurs, both teams had the most suitable formation.

Kuroba, getting ready to receive, kept pulling at his T-shirt and wiping the sweat off his face an unusual number of times. He wondered if it was just his imagination that the movement of his legs seemed heavy. Even though he was always jumping around on the court even when there was no need for it, now his feet were clinging to the floor. He’s pretty nervous. The fact that the crowd was much bigger than for the group league no doubt played a role.

What are we going to do for this game? He felt like it had become a farce starring the boys’ volleyball team, but of course he wasn’t going to lose on purpose. We’re going for the win. It was out of the question to give up on getting Haijima because of a single loss in a in-school match. If that was the case, he shouldn’t have taken this bet, but it was also out of the question for Oda to not buy a fight that had been sold to him.

He called Haijima, who was heading for the service zone, to a stop and he turned around and asked him something.

“It’s okay now, right?”

“Yeah. Do it with all your power.”

He heard the sound of the safety lock inside Haijima disengaging. In the previous two games, Haijima was banned from doing jump serves. It would no longer be a game against an amateur team if he did so, and someone were to get hit in the face, they risked injury.

“…Eleven months.”

Haijima muttered in a low voice, cast his gaze to a point on the other side of the net and narrowed his eyes.

“Did he get a little better?”

He smiled faintly. The depths of his eyes were boiling, as though he was even taking in this heat and transforming it into a part of the heat within him. Stimulated by that fighting spirit, Oda also felt his entire body trembling.

Just you watch… He glared at Aoki, but couldn’t meet his gaze with Aoki on the referee’s chair.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Haijima’s jump serve even drew the eyes of the first-timer spectators. He placed the ball in his left hand, stretched his arm directly before him and stood still. A beat of dignified silence that took the watcher’s breath away. The moment he tossed the ball up high with a spin towards the ceiling, there was a big “Ooh.”

From his graceful and refined form, as though he was dancing in the air, he let loose a sharp jump serve. Contrary to the slickness of his form, Haijima’s serve was quite unpleasant. It had a unique twisting spin, partly due to him hitting left-handed, and the one who was receiving was under immense pressure. Drawing a curving arc, it accurately aimed for the area Kuroba, who was positioned in the back row, was guarding. Kuroba, who didn’t say he was good at serve receives, managed to hit it with his arms with a panicked look on his face. Fortunately, it went up high, so his teammate went right below it and waited. Who was going to hit it?

Was Kuroba, who received it, going to hit it himself?

“Right court!”

He was astounded by the instruction that came from the referee’s chair.

Oi, wait a minute!? Is that even allowed!?

The ball was set to Kanno on the right court. Oda jumped to block in surprise, but Kanno dexterously shifted the core of the impact and changed it to a straight spike from the angle of a cross-court hit. Tch, he’s good… The spike that was as sharp as a needle went through a narrow course.

While landing, he turned his head to follow the whereabouts of the ball. He thought it might have been on the border of the sideline, but Nagato the linesman didn’t hesitate to indicate that it was in. The person who enthusiastically shouted “Yes!” from outside the court in place of Kanno, who had landed soundlessly, was…Suemori. I get the feeling that there’s a lot of officials that are emotionally attached to the opponent’s side, but…?

Team C’s first point was engraved.

“Oi, why is the referee giving out instructions?”

He snapped at the referee’s chair.

“If there are any objections, you can write them down on the record sheet later.”

Aoki said calmly, then quickly blew the whistle to prompt Team C to serve. There was no way they were going to prepare a record sheet used for official games for a ballgame tournament.

“Do it in one go, Haijima.”

He turned his back on the referee’s stand in indignation and said that aloud in order to calm himself down. However, Haijima only sullenly muttered, “You haven’t gotten any better at defense though,” and it seemed that he didn’t care about the noise around him or the subtle and complex actions of the staff members. The intensity of his concentration after entering the court was astonishing, but…he felt that he was slightly different from the previous two matches. Isn’t his mind too focused on one point?

At the end of where Haijima’s eyes were fixed on, Kuroba was, as ever, looking around restlessly while worrying about sweating profusely. The complete opposite of Haijima, his concentration was scattered. It was a face that screamed that Aoki’s implication was bad.

Team C, under Aoki’s instructions (which he still couldn’t wrap his mind around), had adopted the strategy of gathering the ball to Kanno. The scene where Kuroba hit didn’t return immediately, but even so, that scene came when it was 3-3 in the beginning, the rotation moved three at a time and Kuroba in the front right was directly facing Haijima in the front left over the net.

The first setting of this set came from Kanno to Kuroba.

At Haijima’s instructions, a triple block was set up. Oda in the back row prepared to back them up. “That’s a hell of a jump from that guy!?” The jumping power of Kuroba, who was high enough for his chest to comfortably show up over the net, made the crowd go wild. Completing the rotation of his shoulders by arching his whole body in midair, his body bent back and his arms swung out, as though releasing a nocked arrow. This dynamic spiking form, which could be called the splendor of volleyball, was the usual Kuroba, but…he’s not looking at the blockers at all. The ball didn’t pass over the net, getting caught on the white band and falling to Team C’s side.

Right when F-team took the lead with 4-3,

“Time out.”

The head referee requested a time-out.

Oi…I’ve never heard of this.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

“Why hasn’t he fixed that habit of his yet?”

Haijima turned on him as soon as they gathered courtside. Team C was making a circle around the tower that was Aoki. So why was the chief referee coming down from the referee’s stand and being on the bench of one team? After glaring at the other party who made his temple spasm, Oda turned back to Haijima.

“It already became solidified within him when he joined in April. There’s no problem in practice games, but he always gets like that when it’s a game with a lot of pressure, and to be honest, he’d be useless in an official match.”

For last year’s middle school prefecturals, Oda only went on the second day, so Kuroba, who apparently only participated on the first day, went unchecked. When he first joined the club, Oda was simply excited that an unexpected find had burst in. In fact, when he was used in the May practice match, he couldn’t find any problems. There was an inconsistent feeling to him, like he was developing, but his energetic play was pleasant to watch, and his strangely likeable character also helped to energize the whole team.

Although they haven’t acquired Haijima yet, he was confident that their attacker lineup was in good order with this, and then the prefectural tournament in the start of June—

The god of volleyball seemed to like secretly digging pitfalls.

An odd habit had begun to show up. He either failed his spikes entirely that got caught by the blocks and got himself out, or it got trapped by the net. It wasn’t like his form was messed up, but he couldn’t settle it. Even when he asked the person in question, he vaguely answered with a somewhat spaced-out expression, like his feet weren’t on the ground, that even he didn’t know why it was like that.

“…Why…”

Haijima grumbled, glaring at his feet with a gaze that could scorch through the floor.

“Stumbling over something like that…”

Haijima, that’s exactly how I feel about you, Oda thought. If you ask me, I’m jealous of the both of you, and just looking at you makes me irritated.

“Hey, we have to do something about him. It seems that it has something to do with Nagato and the second round of the middle school prefecturals?”

At this point, I should create a front that would make Haijima take a step closer to us, even forcibly. Thinking that, he tried inducing him.

“The middle school prefecturals…?”

Haijima raised his head and furrowed his brow.

“Sometimes players fail in their debut matches and suddenly fall to pieces.”

“They said it was my fault? But…”

His voice jumped up for an instant. He immediately closed his mouth sullenly and looked down again, fiddling with the taping on his fingers in front of his stomach. He thought of him as a player who didn’t have the habit of making other people read his mind, so that behavior was unexpected.

“What was I supposed to do…I was waiting, on that day…but, he was the one who didn’t come…”

He felt like the view before him was suddenly blocked by a thin, but hard, shell.

***

Even after the timeout, Kuroba’s play was lackluster. It would have been excusable if he had been blocked by the volleyball team members, but he was messing up because he was minding the blocker, who was an amateur ten centimeters shorter than him and just standing in front of him. Really, when he was good, he was great, but once his gears went out of whack, he quickly fell apart on his own. To be honest, he thought it was better for him to withdraw, but Aoki, Team C’s captain as well as the referee (this dual role was strange no matter how you look at it), didn’t seem like he was going to replace him.

He could see the frustration building up in even Haijima every time Kuroba made a mistake. Even so, the thing that differentiated Haijima from Kuroba was that his play never wavered, or rather, became frighteningly sharp. Not necessarily in a good sense, as he even covered his teammates’ minor mistakes all by himself and ended up excluding the amateurs. It felt like the sullen aura emanating from Haijima’s entire body made it seem as if the temperature on only their side of the court had dropped down a notch. It was out of the control of even Oda and he called to him less and less, and he thought that he could imagine the atmosphere in the second round of the prefectural tournament Nagato was talking about now.

His irritation towards the two who didn’t appreciate at all the value of the treasures that had been given them became stronger. If it were those two, there was no doubt that they would be able to stand at the forefront for the next ten or twenty years. Was it asking too much of freshmen to be less small-minded when they had such high physical potential? But, if he had those two’s potential, he definitely wouldn’t waste it. A super-ace who was trusted by his team for his solid decision-making ability as well as enlivening the team as a mental pillar…He knew that he couldn’t be that kind of player anymore, but he still dreamed to this day.

The fifteen-point system was shorter than he expected. When Haijima rotated from the back row to the front row and match-upped against Kuroba with the net between them again, they entered the final stage of the first set. Kuroba, obviously bending back, took a receiving stance like he was shrinking away from the net. While glaring at Kuroba’s disgraceful behavior with a gaze that could burn the net to ashes, it was perhaps at this moment that a circuit somewhere in Haijima’s mind snapped.

The serve was Oda’s. His thoughts were so focused on the two of them that his aim was a bit fuzzy, so the easy and half-hearted ball ended up falling right in the middle of the opponent’s court. He ran back to the court, fed up with himself as he thought that he might not be better than Kuroba today. That was when it happened.

“Hit the ball, Kuroba!”

Haijima shouted. His carrying voice suddenly pierced through the court where all talking had decreased, and everyone on his own team was startled.

As in the first round, the set flew from Kanno to Kuroba. Almost as if by spinal reflex, Kuroba suddenly did a run-up and leapt. Haijima blocked it perfectly.

However, this time as well, Kuroba’s spike didn’t even go over the net before it was blocked.

They both landed on the floor at the same time, the net between them. Right then,

“Stop screwing around!”

Haijima kicked the floor right after he yelled that, and then barged into the other court from under the net and tackled Kuroba. At this unbelievable situation, Oda froze in the receive stance, unable to move. It’s different for baseball game broadcasts, but I’ve never seen a brawl at a volleyball game, and I didn’t think he was the type to lose his temper like that!?

Everyone on his own team was dumbfounded, and everyone on the other team jumped out of the way, startled. After blowing Kuroba all the way to the center of the court, Haijima immediately went to straddle him and grabbed him up by the collar as Kuroba was hitting his back and coughing.

“Don’t run away! At least give one decent shot! If you’re this nervous for just a ballgame tournament, you’re not cut out for this, so just quit!”

He was yelling at him, looking like he was about to bite his nose off.

Kuroba’s back lifted off the floor.

“Hey…stop it, Haijima!”

Oda came to his senses and hurriedly passed under the net.

Right when he was about to pin Haijima’s arms behind his back, Kanno wedged himself in between them and said, “Senpai.” While keeping Oda back, Kanno looked at the referee’s stand. Oda widened his eyes and looked up at the stand, where he saw Aoki leaning against the top of the pole and grinning down at the two first-years on the floor.

“If they had just one big fist fight and told each other how they really felt…” Their conversation in the washroom flashed across his mind.

Hah!? No way, don’t tell me you were expecting this!?

Kuroba, who he thought was just going to let this happen, surprisingly grabbed Haijima’s wrist and yelled back.

“I’ve never been in a game where I had to lose successfully, and I don’t know how to do that, so of course I’m not cut out for this!”

“What are you talking about…”

Haijima was speechless. Kuroba, hesitating to say further, glared at Haijima at point-blank range as he moved his lips soundlessly. Then, he suddenly cast down his eyes, drew in his chin, and pressed his fist that was grabbing the front of Haijima’s chest to his forehead. It looked like a gesture of prayer.

“…’Cause, he said that you’d come back if we lost… Hey, isn’t this enough… Come back already…”

Come back already.

Those were words that Oda couldn’t think of or say in his position. They made him realize he didn’t need any pretense, and that all he needed was such clumsy, straightforward words.

Haijima, having lost his outlet for anger, just looked bewildered. His face, looking like those straightforward words didn’t penetrate his stubborn heart very well, made Oda irritated again.

“Hai…”

Right when he was about to interject, unable to keep quiet anymore,

Beep!

“Oh, you guys done yet? It looks like you guys pretty much said it all.”

A fake cough and Aoki’s voice, dampening the tension, came down from the referee’s stand.

“If that’s the case, the two of you, leave the court.”

He said, calmly holding up a red card.

“Fighting in volleyball is unheard of. And freshmen, don’t say that this is just a ballgame tournament, because this is a lively event that I worked myself to the bone to prepare for without sleeping. They really do need to pay me for this.”

***

After seeing the overall results at the administration tent with his own eyes, he returned to the gym. The gym, where the partition net was removed and cleanup had ended, was empty, but the net and poles still remained on only the stage-side court where the boys’ volleyball match had taken place. It was as if only the net wouldn’t admit that the match was over. The enthusiasm for the finals that had engulfed the court had now been cooled by the evening air, and he suddenly felt lonely.

There was a figure standing before the net. Like the net in front of them, it seemed like they still wanted to continue the match. Well, he was kicked off the court after doing one set, so I guess I can’t blame him for wanting to rampage more. The taping on his hands hanging down on the sides of his body still haven’t been undone yet.

“Haijima.”

Though his back reacted slightly to his call, he didn’t attempt to turn around. He goes at his own pace, eh. Oda smiled wryly as he approached him.

“They didn’t put the net away?”

“I asked them to leave it. I’ll put it away.”

Just like on the first day of team practice one week ago, Haijima lifted his chin and looked straight at the white band of the net. The sunlight shining through the window weakened and it dimmed considerably in the gym, but he could see a light in his eyes. A dazzling light that welled up within Haijima, as though he couldn’t contain his feelings of dissatisfaction.

“This wasn’t set up at 2.4?”

“Oh, we only raise it to 2.43 at the finals. ‘Cause it’s a game full of experienced players.”

With his hand on the net, stroking it sideways, Oda walked to the edge of the court and put his hand on the pole. Since the protective mat was removed, his palm touched the cold metal directly. The surface of the old bronze-colored pole was rough with copper rust stuck to it.

“We’re going to a family restaurant for the team’s afterparty, so meet us at the school gate at six-thirty. Don’t worry, us third-years are paying.”

“Please don’t count me in.”

He was given an annoyed reply. There are still not enough reasons? Oda sighed. Even though it’s so obvious that he’s longing to play volleyball, what exactly is holding him back? Is there something else besides the Monshiro Middle incident? This guy who’s fundamentally arrogant and seems to not care about other people’s feelings is clearly afraid that something is going to happen.

“You know, volleyball really is a sport that chooses people. Well, what you do in it depends on the person. It’s not a sport where you can carry the ball by yourself, and even if one person is skilled, you can’t win. I’ve told you this before. Remember it.”

“I got kicked in my ass.”

Since Haijima was pouting with a bitter look on his face, a laugh unintentionally slipped out of his mouth as he recalled it. He immediately stopped when Haijima was getting more and more sullen.

“There’s also the fact that the difference in our sizes frankly makes me cry. It’s a cruel story, isn’t it. No matter how hard a guy like me works, even if I think I won’t lose in athletic ability, skill, attitude, or anything, I just can’t beat a big guy in that one factor, height. Why did I fell for volleyball, of all things?”

Too many of the words people hurled at him came from his own mouth. When he explained it to people, they made doubtful faces and couldn’t sympathize with him very much, so these days he had learned to ignore that kind of talk. Aoki wouldn’t understand this much either. They might show their understanding for me, but they wouldn’t have any sympathy for me.

Haijima didn’t worry over his answer. He tilted his head, as though thinking,　This guy’s asking something weird, and stated it definitively. He said it like he was talking about the completely natural activities of living beings, like saying,　Don’t calves stand up after they’re born?

“Isn’t it because there’s nothing more interesting than volleyball?”

Aah…I knew it.

I had a feeling he’d say that. What’s for us, the very simple truth of the world.

I wanted words from someone other than me. I wanted someone to affirm to me that it’s okay for even someone like me to be devoted to something. If a man with much more talent than me, who possibly loves volleyball more than me, said that to me, then I can believe that the time I dedicated to volleyball was never a waste.

Is there anything in this world that is as interesting as this, that can make me as passionate as this? The exhilaration when you release a powerful spike. The feeling of solidarity when a brilliant combination play is executed. The sense of accomplishment when you persevere and break away a rally with your teammates. The feeling of conquest when you force the opponent’s ace to yield with a kill block. That intoxication, when your concentration is at its peak and the team’s hearts are one, and you can clearly see the ball’s trajectory as an unbroken line——

Something hot welled up in his throat, and he suddenly felt like crying. But, it was too early for that. He still hadn’t accomplished anything yet.

So he bared his teeth and smiled instead.

“That so? Well, for me, I love volleyball to death. It’s the only thing where I’m confident that I won’t lose to anyone.”

It was funny that Haijima countered with an extremely serious expression, “I won’t lose either.”

“…Haijima. To be honest, it was for my convenience that I wanted you to join. I’m a third year now. Even so, I want to play as many games on the court as possible, even if it’s just one game. Even if it’s just for a day…even just for a minute, just a second, I wanna play volleyball. Can I borrow your strength for that reason? All of your strength…”

Wouldn’t I get the opposite result with that way of talking? No, it’s fine. These words shouldn’t make Haijima build a wall around himself. He seems to be terribly stoic to me and everyone else, but he won’t reject someone who’s facing volleyball seriously. Ultimately, it wasn’t about whether you were skilled or not, or whether you were tall or short. Whether you are serious about volleyball or not—that was the only line Haijima drew.

That’s why there was no reason to hesitate to step in. I’m holding the key to the door.

He really felt like he was gripping a small key in his right hand. Of course, when he opened his palm, there was no key actually there. However, he turned to Haijima and held out his hand as though to show it to him.

“Won’t you believe in me, Haijima?”

Haijima was silent for a while, staring at Oda’s hand with downcast eyes. He loosened his tied lips.

“…Spring Inter-High.”

A whisper slipped from his mouth.

“…You’re serious about going there, I see. A weak team that has never won a proper game within the prefecture is aiming for it, thinking they can seriously go there. The 2.43 meter net is for that reason, I see.”

Those eyes with a sharpness that seemed to pierce through anything before them were directed towards Oda’s face. He was surprised that something he only mentioned briefly a week ago seemed to have remained in Haijima’s mind. However, he was also convinced that just showed how strong his feelings were. By all rights, he shouldn’t be the kind of athlete who was stuck smouldering in a place like this.

He wasn’t saying it in a way that was making fun of him. On the contrary, if he was the one who poked fun at him even slightly or was ambiguous in his answer, he would without a doubt slap his hand away on the spot.

Neither deception nor half-hearted seriousness was allowed in front of this guy.

“Yeah. Now, all the actors are in place. I seriously believe that this year’s Seiin will definitely become a team that can go to Nationals.”

Oda also looked back into Haijima’s eyes with a piercing gaze and answered.

If you take this hand, I will have to meet your expectations with all my power. I’ll repeat it again with force in order to convey that resolve. There’s no need for complicated reasons. I’m sure that only straightforward words would reach his heart.

“I want you to believe in me. Lend me all of your strength.”

***

“Why the hell are you smiling? Did Haijima say he was going to join?”

Aoki jeered at him when he stopped by the administration tent. Am I smiling? Oda wondered, patting his cheeks. He might be.

“Who knows. Well, he’ll be coming to the next practice, won’t he?”

“Hoo. Personally, I don’t like it, but well, that’s good I guess.”

Aoki said that in a twisted and unstraightforward way. Oda, while wondering in astonishment, Weren’t you the one who set this up?, dragged a free folding chair over and sat diagonally across from Aoki. He leaned over the long table, thrusted his face at him and lowered his face, as though it was an interrogation in a detective drama.

“So, from when and how much of it all was within your calculations? Since you brought up that betting match in front of Kuroba, right? Since you stirred me up by saying you were more interested in Okuma than Haijima? No way, you’re not gonna say you were the one who arranged for Haijima to be in volleyball, are you? I don’t think it’s possible, but does that mean the ballgame tournament itself is a huge charade…”

“I must be the world’s greatest swindler then. You’re giving me too much credit. Originally, I planned to have Team F win the championship, and I wanted to go to the lodging house on the refreshing highlands and getting Haijima while we’re at it…that was all I was thinking. Well, the dream of the highlands lodging house is completely gone now. I really did want to go there.”

All but one of the administration tents that were lined up with their eaves side by side in a corner of the first sports ground were dismantled, and the lower grade members of the executive committee were clearing away the steel frames and sheets while bickering noisily. All of their voices had a listlessness to them, like they had finished burning, and they didn’t sound grating to his ears. Rather, the noise soaked pleasantly into his tired body.

On the grounds, members of the baseball club were doing somersaults. The clock tower behind the back net displayed the time of 6:15. The brightness of the sky dimmed, and grey clouds started to appear. According to the forecast, apparently it was still going to be clear during the day, but the rainy season was going to return during the night. There was the scent of approaching rain. The warm wind, which contained moisture, made his arms and body sticky again after his sweat had finally receded.

The uncoated paper with the overall results for today was posted on the tent’s support. If he thought that there was more enthusiasm about this year’s championship than last year, there was apparently a secret prize that was going to be given to the supreme general of the winning team. The contributor was the executive committee—of course Aoki was the one who was holding the wallet. That prize was the group accommodation at a lodging house on a highland area in the prefecture for summer vacation. It was a form of taking advantage of the fact that the captains of the major sports clubs were spread out across each of the third year classes and stirring up the competition between each team.

In the boys’ volleyball division, Oda’s Team F defeated Team C to win the championship. The referee Aoki’s blatant support for Team C in the first half was camouflage, and after ejecting the two first-years, he devoted himself to making fair and impartial judgements in the second half—or that was how it seemed. Skillfully weaving in a few advantageous judgements for Team F, he manipulated the outcome. He’s a crook through and through…but since it’s a school event, I can just barely forgive him, but if he pulled this kind of thing somewhere else, I’ll be done with him.

However, they didn’t perform so well in the other events, and in the end, Team F had to settle for second place overall. The guesthouse on the highlands was to be given over to another club.

“Aaah, I guess we’ll have to do it at school this summer too. It’ll be harsh without air conditioning though.”

“You know, you’re pretty practical even though you don’t look it…”

“Dunno what you mean by not looking practical, but I’ll accept the compliment. Well, the things you can get with cheap tricks aren’t that important, and there are plenty of things you can’t get...” a loud yawn slipped out from his wide mouth.

“Are you going to the after party? The first and second-years worked hard today, so we gotta thank them.”

“Sorry, but I’ll have to pass. I don’t mind splitting the money in half. I didn’t sleep for three days to finish up preparations.”

“Three days? And yet you managed to get in two games.”

“It’d be tough to do three games. When the old teacher collapsed, I thought in my head, ‘I’m saved.’”

He leaned back deeply on his folding chair, causing it to creak, and when he bent his neck and tilted it left and right, there was a cracking sound. Though he wondered if it was okay to speak that way about an elderly person, it seemed that after he rested in the infirmary for nearly an hour, he had readily recovered and went along with the teachers to their after-party, so perhaps it was okay for Aoki to say that, considering all his toil.

During this ball game tournament, which included preparations, while Oda was just saying he wanted Haijima like a spoiled brat, just how hard was Aoki working, even using his influence, for the sake of the whole team? When it came to Haijima, even though he wasn’t supposed to have agreed to it, he considered Oda’s feelings and took action like it was a matter of course. It had completely slipped from his mind, but it was time to think about summer training camps.

Since they knocked on the door of the boys’ volleyball club in April two years ago, he had helped him one-sidedly until now. The prodigy who had student council duties, and who on top of that could get accepted to Kyoto University, probably had any number of things he could do besides volleyball, unlike Oda. He felt a deep sense of guilt that because he invited him that day—because they were “Aoki” and “Oda”, an unexpected intrusion ended up coming into Aoki’s life.

“Ah, hey…thanks for everything…”

It was too embarrassing to say it now after two years, and he couldn’t look him in the eyes. He was grateful for the gap between their lines of sight right then. Every time he was covered for, it only deepened his own sense of inferiority, and he had never thanked him face-to-face until now.

Good grief, it’s not just my outside, I’m also tiny and worthless on the inside.

“But, sorry…you’re going to have to go along with my selfishness for just a little longer.”

His debt would increase even more in the future. It seemed that Aoki won’t be able to concentrate on his exams for a while yet.

“…That’s just like you.”

Aoki mumbled to himself, his head still turned away. From Oda’s position, he could only see his chin moving slightly, and he had no idea what expression he had on his face.

“You’re giving me too much credit. I’m feeling guilty now. Playing volleyball with you is what I want to do right now, and I’m not doing it unwillingly. I don’t need to be thanked at all. I’ve been saying this since before, but me not liking Haijima is completely my personal feelings, and I’m the one who’s just being selfish. I don’t really care about going to university or not, and I don’t mind if you want me to lower my rank so we can go to the same place…I’m basically just driven by my ulterior motives.”

“Ulterior motives?”

There was the sound of water drops hitting the roof of the tent. The people working outside the tent looked up at the sky and exclaimed, “It’s starting to rain?”

“…You don’t have to understand.”

Aoki raised his head slowly, like a giraffe stretching its neck to find leaves that were just right, and stifled another yawn. Then, he turned towards him and lifted the edge of his mouth.

“Let’s go to Spring Inter-High. I’ll follow you until the end.”

For Oda, that thin, ironic smile was more reliable and trustworthy than anything.

The prefectural preliminaries would start at the end of September, two months later. If they won there, his retirement would be extended until the final representative deciding match in November. And if they managed to win the representative deciding match, then it would be until the nationals in January——. Just one game more. Just a day, a minute, a second longer. In order to delay the “end” just a little bit longer, they third-years would clumsily make every effort with all their ability.

When the rainy season ended, their final summer would arrive. There was no doubt that that summer would be like a condensed version of the rest of their lives after graduation. His doubts about his career path cleared up. He would put all he had into everything he could do and wanted to do right now. He didn’t care if the next few decades would be the rest of his life. Even if he burned out here and had nothing left within him, he wouldn’t regret it now.

Previous || Index || Next

#2.43: Seiin Koukou Danshi Volley-bu #2.43 book 1 #2.43 translation #2.43: seiin high school boys volleyball club #2.43

21 notes · View notes

teejaysnow · 4 years

Note

Here's a fluffy prompt! Breakfast in bed on a chilly morning :)

Thank you very much a lot - you helped!! <3

(also, this turned out a lot longer than expected...)

Do you want toast with all that cheese?

Isak was not happy. Not with the world, not with the temperature outside (which was way too far below zero for happiness anyway), and not with the landlord who ”wouldn’t be able to fix the heating until tomorrow - sorry, boys”. There was a small space heater noisily blowing warm air towards a very limited area of their combined dining room/living room/bedroom, but the kitchen was a complete no heat area and the floor’s arctic climate laughed in the face of his knitted socks. So no, Isak was not happy.

And who in their right mind had their birthday in February anyway? What was wrong with a nice, clement June birthday when their boyfriend wouldn’t have to freeze his bollocks off while preparing breakfast in bed? Not that Even was expecting breakfast in bed - or breakfast anywhere else for that matter. Even was much too familiar with Isak’s very reluctant acquaintance with mornings and was happy enough to make breakfast for both of them, birthday or not. Which was the reason that Isak had had to get up at fucking arse o’clock in the morning to make the fucking breakfast before his boyfriend woke up and ruined the surprise. (Did I mention that Isak wasn’t happy?)

Isak glared at the scrambled eggs (and yes, Even, he had remembered the spoon of sourcream, thanks), willing them to cook faster so he could finally get back into bed and warm his cold feet on his hot (heh...) boyfriend's toasty warm legs. The breakfast tray was already decked out with a red rose in a small vase, two badly wrapped presents, and two mugs full of wonderfully warm coffee. The toast was toasting along while the scrambled egg scrambled, and Isak was just about to get the small cake - that he’d somehow managed to keep hidden from his annoyingly nosy boyfriend - out of the refrigerator when a hand on his lower back and a chin on his shoulder made him start.

“Breakfast?” Even asked, still sounding half asleep. “Also, fuck, it’s cold!” he added as an afterthought.

Isak hummed in agreement with both those statements - as well as in appreciation of Even sneaking his arms around Isak’s waist, his nose finding its favourite spot just at the junction between Isak’s shoulder and neck.

They were interrupted by the toaster spitting out two more or less unburned pieces of bread and Isak turned around and shoved petulantly at his boyfriend’s chest.

“Move over, arsehole! Why are you awake already, anyway? Except for spoiling your surprise, obviously,” Isak complained.

“The bed was too cold without you,” Even said with a small shrug, grabbing at Isak’s waist and pulling him into a tight back hug. Isak rolled his eyes, the toast burning his fingers as he transferred it onto the tray.

“And you thought it would be warmer in the kitchen? Really?”

“Noooo, but I’d rather be cold with you than warm without you...?”

Even leaned in over Isak’s shoulder and twisted his head to the side so he could flutter his eyelashes up at him, but Isak only wrinkled his nose and gave Even an unimpressed look.

“And do you perhaps want toast with all that cheese,” he scoffed.

Even kissed him on the cheek and removed the frying pan from the hob.

“Well, I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me.”

“Oh God, please just go back to bed without saying another word,” Isak begged, turning his head to give Even’s cheek a quick kiss before turning back towards the scrambled eggs and distributing them onto two plates.

“Aww, it’s like you don’t love me anymore.”

Even sighed mournfully, eyes widening into the expression of an unusually hurt and confused puppy. This time Isak turned his whole body around and leaned his head back so he could look up at Even with heavy-lidded eyes.

“I’m sorry, this was not the way I intended you to find out, but… yes, there is someone else. Sorry.”

Even put a hand to his chest in feigned shock, collapsing - cautiously - against the stove.

“Whaaaaat? Why? What’s he got that I haven’t?” he asked, taking a step back to flex his biceps in a feeble attempt at muscled manliness.

Isak couldn’t keep his grin under control any longer so he leaned over and gave Even another quick kiss, “Well, first of all, he stays in bed when his boyfriend tries to do something nice for him. So… why not be more like him and maybe I’ll grow to love you again? Now, fuck. off. back. to. bed!”

Even grinned back and repaid Isak’s kiss with two hard kisses on the mouth and a third that was originally aimed at Isak’s cheek but hit him in the eye instead.

“What the fuck, you uncoordinated giraffe,” Isak protested as Even quickly scurried off and threw himself headfirst on the bed.

“Sorry, can’t hear you, I’m in bed, sleeping. Waiting for my wonderful boyfriend to bring me breakfast in bed,” came the unrepentant reply and Isak smiled fondly down at the plates of scrambled eggs he was holding.

“Your wonderful boyfriend just has to butter the toast and then he’ll be right there,” Isak promised, fetching the cake from the fridge and stabbing a birthday candle into it, actually buttering the promised toast, and then remembering to grab the bacon slices peacefully degreasing on a paper towel, before carefully carrying the tray towards the bed.

He was met with loud (and very fake) snores from his boyfriend - who in the short time between leaving the kitchen and Isak’s arrival at the bed had managed to turn himself into a very well wrapped burrito. Isak kneeled on his side of their bed and placed the tray between them before leaning over and kissing Even on the nose.

“Happy birthday, baby. I love you!”

Even opened his eyes and grinned up at Isak before trying to force his expression into something that could, in a good light, be described as shocked. Possibly.

“Oh, you remembered! I have never been so surprised, like, ever!”

“Idiot,” Isak muttered, slowly stroking his index finger down the small part of Even’s cheek that wasn’t covered in duvet.

“Your idiot,” Even agreed, turning his head so Isak’s finger got better access.

“Mm, yeah,” Isak hummed before abandoning Even’s cheek in favour of burritoing into his own duvet, only sticking out a hand to grab a fork. “Now enjoy your surprise before it gets cold.”

Even quickly unburritoed and sat up to cross leggedly enjoy his meal, duvet loosely wrapped around his shoulders.

“Best breakfast I’ve ever had,” he complimented after a few mouthfuls, happily chewing on a slice of bacon. “How have you managed to get the eggs so moist? That’s Gordon Ramsay quality right there, that is.”

“Old family recipe, you know how it is,” Isak replied with a shrug and a toothy smile. “I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you afterwards.”

“Still worth it, I think.”

“Well, in that case…” Isak flopped over so he was back on his knees, leaning up towards Even, eyes flitting between Even’s eyes and lips, “The secret is…”

“Yeah?” Even whispered back, licking his lips as his eyes followed Isak’s every movement.

“...a tablespoon of… shit!!”

Isak quickly replaced the coffee cup the right way up and pushed Even’s presents out of the way - the toast not faring quite as well as it met with a swift but wet coffee related death.

“‘Shit’ is the secret? Really?? I would never have guessed.” Even’s voice sounded muffled as he tried to look like he wasn’t laughing at his irate boyfriend.

“You suck!” Isak informed him on his way back from fetching paper towels to clean up the mess, his temper not helped by the floor still being just on the warmer side of zero degrees.

“Mmhm. Just let me finish breakfast first,” Even agreed, thus significantly improving Isak’s mood.

Dropping the now coffee drenched paper towels on the floor beside the bed, Isak crawled back under his duvet and pushed one of the gifts towards Even.

“Can’t wait, baby. Now go on, open this!”

“Still eating,” Even protested, taking a careful bite of a small piece of still uncaffeinated toast.

“Don’t care. Open it.”

“Fine.” Even looked around for somewhere to dry his hands but couldn’t find anywhere. Reluctantly he dried them on his pants before reaching for his gift. “What is it?”

“You’re really not up to date with how this whole birthday gift thing works, are you?”

“Open it and find out, huh?

Isak nodded.

“Open it and find out,” he echoed.

Even fought a losing battle against the tape until Isak impatiently handed him a pair of scissors.

“Jeez, how many tape rolls did you use wrapping this thing?” Even wondered out loud.

“Less complaining, more unwrapping,” Isak huffed back, his fingers trembling like he was itching to help, only relaxing when Even finally uncovered the gift.

“Umm… thanks?” Even gave the bottle of beer a puzzled look. He knew that Isak was fond of beer, but… the enthusiasm that he’d shown over this bottle had been slightly more than Even thought it deserved.

Isak giggled at Even’s bewildered expression.

“It’s a hint for the real gift, okay? Any guesses?”

Isak was more or less bouncing on the bed now and Even quickly moved the tray to the floor before another accident happened.

“Beer tasting?” he hazarded, none too excited with the prospect.

“Beer tasting? Really? That’s what you think I’d get you? Oh, Even...” Isak shook his head in mock disappointment. “I mean, what kind of beer is it? Maybe there could be a clue in that?”

Even looked back at the bottle. London Pride? Not his favourite beer to be honest. Pale ale. Red label. Fuller’s. Nope. Nothing.

Isak sighed, “Good thing you’re pretty, baby... Now open the other one!”

This time Even reached straight for the scissors instead of battling it out with the tape.

“Gin? Do either of us even drink gin?” he mused, even more confused as he eyed his second birthday gift.

Isak was still basically vibrating with pent up excitement.

“We can give it to Magnus, he drinks anything,” he shrugged. “It’s just another clue for your actual gift, get with the program here.”

“We’re giving my present to Magnus?” Even asked, feeling more confused than ever.

“We are not giving your present to Magnus. We are giving Magnus this bottle of gin because we two have standards when it comes to getting drunk - but the gin is just another fucking clue for your actual gift, okay?!”

“Okay.” Even kept staring at the bottle. Beer and gin. B&G? Well, apart from his boyfriend spending too much money at Vinmonopolet, there wasn’t too much information to be gained from that, was there? London Pride. Beefea… what the... “We’re going to London?” he asked hesitantly and Isak nodded, smile wide enough to almost reach his ears. “Really? We’re going to London?!”

“We’re going to London,” Isak confirmed.

“Really?” Even repeated, excited but not quite daring to believe it yet.

“Yep. London, baby!”

Apparently Isak’s grin wasn't letting up anytime soon.

“But… how? When? And can we actually afford it?” Even’s brain was multitasking hard, partly already planning what to do in London, partly worrying about the state of their bank account.

Isak let his hand skim down Even’s arm, intertwining their fingers when he reached Even’s hand.

“We can afford it,” he assured him. “As for when… how do you feel about celebrating Pride in London this summer?”

Based on Even’s bright smile, Isak decided he was probably feeling pretty good about it.

“Wow. I’m… this is just… I mean, London!?”

“So what pretentious movie locations have you already decided we’ll have to visit?” Isak asked fondly, pulling at Even’s hand to encourage him to lean over and kiss him.

“Well, we have to visit Notting Hill and take a photo in front of the blue door!”

“‘Have to’, huh? You’re using those words again. I don’t think they mean what you think they mean,” Isak teased him.

“And we have to go to 84 Charing Cross Road, because that’s the most epic non-love love story there is,” Even continued, ignoring him. “And I guess we’ll have to do the 221B Baker Street thing, which… ugh. Oh, and we have to go to Leadenhall Market, and the Harry Potter studio tour, and…”

Isak let go of Even’s hand in favour of pulling at his t-shirt hard enough for Even to topple over into Isak.

“We already have tickets for the Harry Potter thing because I’m the world’s best boyfriend,” he stated, combing back Even’s hair and kissing his forehead. “The rest we’ll just have to fit in where we can.”

Even shoved at Isak and crawled up to lie face to face to him where he’d let himself fall.

“World’s best boyfriend,” he whispered reverently, cupping Isak’s cheek and looking into his eyes for a few long seconds before wetting his lips and leaning in to kiss him.

Isak hummed encouragingly into the kiss, dragging his boyfriend closer so he was half lying on Isak’s chest. They could continue the argument about who had the world’s best boyfriend later anyway - but Isak was pretty sure it was him.

#skam fanfic #the cheesiest cheese to ever cheese #my shit #thegirlnooneknows5

38 notes · View notes

ubernoxa · 4 years

Text

The Dare: A Guns N’ Roses FanFic

Chapter 23: You’re an Idiot

Taglist @queen-crue @gingerspicetalks

(Masterlist)

It was a long night to say the least, and Duff counted himself lucky that Delilah, despite her inebriated state, was currently talking to Mags trying to calm her down. It was actually more of Mags talking and Delilah just sitting there listening to her saying I’m sorry or you’re fine every once and a while. Duff wondered how much of what Mags was saying Delilah actually understood in his inebriated state. It was still a sweet notion none the less.

Duff sat in the living room bored out of his damn mind trying to pass the time. He wondered if Axl was right, maybe Mags was more trouble than she was worth. It was only a matter of time until he fell asleep on the couch.

He awoke to giggling coming from the kitchen. From the sun, it must have been no later than 1 in the afternoon. It was then he noticed the blanket that was placed on top of him and the pillow that had fallen on the floor. There was a glass of water and a banana to eat on the side table. He smiled at the thought of Delilah.

“Yeah, but I really think I need to get a job,” Delilah sighed as she leaned against the fridge.

“You don’t need a job, you’re fine. Plus you take care of the guys which is technically a full time job,” Mags sweetly replied.

“Maaags, I’m leaching off of everyone. I don’t pay for the food,” Delilah sighed as she pulled something out of the oven. They had spent the past couple hours preparing and cooking chicken.

“Who made the guys’ banner,” Mags crosses her arms absolutely done with Del’s stubbornness.

“Me,” Delilah sighed as she answered Mag’s question knowing all too well that she was only helping Mag’s point.

“Who did Axl ask to make their posters for the next gig?”

Delilah groaned at Mag’s question, refusing to answer it.

“Morning bitches,” Duff turned around to see an unfamiliar face enter Mag’s apartment.

“Your brother’s band made a trash magazine and Heads up blondie is up,” she said before tossing the magazine towards Mags and slamming the doors closed.

“Morning blondie,” Delilah yelled across the apartment before turning her attention towards the magazine.

“How did they get this printed so fast?” Delilah quickly pulled her attention to the magazine.

By now Duff had lazily walked into the kitchen, the promise of food filling his nose.

“Awww that’s a cute photo,” Mags pointed to a picture of Delilah and Duff.

“You look good in my sunglasses,” Duff wrapped his arms around Delilah as he spoke.

“Can I have this magazine when you’re done with it?” Duff asked as they continued to look through the others. He loved the picture of him and Delilah. It was the one where she was sticking her tongue out at him before yesterday’s show. Delilah continued to point out and compliment Duff in every photo she could find of him. It was a classic game of where’s Waldo for the girl, but instead of Waldo she was searching for a blonde giraffe.

“Hey bitch, can I have this?” Mags telled making Delilah jump.

“Yeah, I’m done with it,” a voice from behind a closed door yelled back.

“Yeah, be my guest,” Mags said bringing her attention back to the food that was now cooling down.

“Hey, I left some food on the counter for you,” Mags yelled across the apartment to her roommate.

“Thanks bitch,” her roommate sung before Duff and Delilah followed Mags out of the apartment.

“Bitch?” Duff whispered to Delilah earning a shrug from the girl.

“Thats all they call each other. To be honest I don’t know her actual name,” Delilah tried to hide a giggle as Duff wrapped his arm around Delilah’s waist guiding her out of the apartment.

Izzy took another sip from his bottle as he stared out the window.

“Where’s the food?” Izzy looked over towards Steven who was currently lying on his stomach on the ground.

Why? Who the fuck know? He was probably just hungry.

“You have definitely gotten used to Del, cooking for you every morning.......There’re coming,” Izzy pointed towards Duff, Delilah, and Mags as they walked into the shitty apartment.

“You were waiting for them? I’m glad I’m not the only one who was hungry as hell!” Steven exclaimed now sitting up.

“I’m not hungry, just need to talk to Duff about some stuff,” his words were sharper than he expected.

“Dude chill, is everything alright between you and Duff? I know things were tense with Axl, but if you need help or someone to talk to,” Izzy looked back towards Steven who now had Stef draped all over him.

“Yeah, yeah. We are fine. Just need to have a music talk with him. I have a couple rhythm things I want to talk to him about,” Izzy watched Steven as he spoke. Steven’s puppy dog smile slowly changed to a frown. He was the fucking drummer, why wouldn’t he be involved in rhythm conversations. Was he not good enough for them?

“I want him to try a weird bass line, and if he’s down, we will bring you in. I just don’t want to waste you time,” Izzy purposefully changed his tone as he spoke to the drummer. He didn’t mean to make him feel irrelevant. Izzy didn’t want to be like Axl, not in the slightest.

“Cool, I’m excited to hear it if it works out,” Steven cheerful demeanor returned.

Duff and Izzy locked eyes the moment he walked into the small apartment.

“I brought food!” Mags cheered as she walked into the guy’s apartment. It was a peace offering for what happened last night. Part of her was worried her brother would never talk to her again, but he smiled when she saw him.

“Thank god!” He cheered before grabbing the dish from his sister and bringing it into the kitchen.

“Hey, it’s gotta be warmed,” Delilah said running after Steven to make sure he doesn’t eat it cold. Her and Mags spent way to much time making it for him to eat it cold.

Izzy and Duff remained frozen, eyes locked.

“What?” Duff sent Izzy a confused look as he began to go to Delilah in the kitchen. Was he annoyed with how he spent the night at Delilah? Honestly it was only one night? Or was he more mad that he was hanging around Mags?

“My room, now,” Duff rolled his eyes at Izzy’s tone and followed him to his and Axl’s shared room.

Izzy slammed the door behind Duff as he entered.

“What the hell is your problem? Is this because I spent the night at Del’s? Oh great so you are on the same page as Axl about hanging with Mags. She is my girlfriend’s roommate. Kinda hard to stay away from her, plus Axl is being a big fucking hypocrite,” Duff made sure to keep his voice quiet as he talked to Izzy. The last he wanted was for Delilah, Mags, or Steven to hear him.

“Give me back the damn pills,” Izzy’s voice matched Duff, but he practically snapped as he spoke.

“Why?”

“You wanna ask why? How about why the fuck are you giving Del drugs?” Izzy had to be careful with every word he spoke. He never took Duff for an idiot, hell sometimes he thought that Duff might have had the best wits out of all of them. Right now he was being stupider than Axl.

Duff couldn’t help, but laugh at Izzy. “Seriously, this is what this is all about? It’s about drugs? Izzy you telling someone not to do drugs is the biggest pile of bullshit that I have ever heard!”

“I’m mad that you’re fucking up Delilah’s life even more,” Izzy stood up and got up in Duff’s face as he spoke, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

Duff froze for a second when he heard Izzy say ‘even more’.

“Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me!” Duff threw his arms up in the air and walked across the room.

“You think you’re helping her? Those pills are to help with your damn anxiety. I gave them to you so you could be not shit faced when we are in front of a crowd. Not for your girlfriend to get high off of,” Izzy sat back down on his poor excuse of a mattress.

“She was getting overwhelmed. So I gave her one, it’s not like I gave her coke or something worse! She needed the edge taken off. She has been off lately. I just wanted her to be happy,” Izzy was shocked in his band mates change in demeanor. He wasn’t mad, he sounded desperate.

“Her and I went to the bathroom to talk. She was off and she wouldn’t tell me what is wrong. I offered for us to head out and leave but she kept saying everything was fine. It wasn’t, so I gave her a pill. I watched her the entire night and she didn’t have a bad reaction. She was in a good mood again,” Duff was siting on Axl’s bed as he spoke. He rested his elbows on his thighs and buried his face in his hands.

Fuck, was all Izzy could think.

“She probably feeling guilty about some of the people she left behind,” Izzy took out a cigaret and offered one to Duff who quickly took it.

“I think she’s mad at me because we haven’t had sex,” Duff shrugged.

Izzy looked at Duff as if he had three heads. How fucking stupid could he be.

“Dude, you’re a fucking idiot,” Izzy replied, only seconds later he had to dodge a pair of Axl’s dirty underwear.

“Well we got interrupted only a couple hours before the party,” Duff shrugged again carefully watching Izzy incase he decided to throw Axl’s boxers back at him.

“I might be one of the only single guy who lives in this apartment, but she started acting weird after that photographer brought up her full name. Did you know that was her full name?”

Izzy’s tone was more blunt than it should have been, but he didn’t care.

“No, and I hate how you’re always fucking right,” Duff took another drag of his cigaret. Now that he thought about it, Delilah didn’t like how he brought up the fact that her name was a biblical one.

Izzy let a laugh escape him.

“She needs you, not the drugs,” Izzy added.

“How do you know about this shit? Like you said, you’re single,” Duff’s comment earned a laugh from Izzy.

“There are more types of relationships than dating,” Izzy admitted.

“Izzy! Our fucking pictures are in the magazine!” Axl was estatic as he flew the door open.

Axl immediately ran over towards Izzy to show him all the photos.

“These look sick,” Izzy’s eyes scanned the pages of the trash magazine.

“Apparently Del’s roommate saw this while on the strip this afternoon. She bought it and thought we might want to see it. It may be a local magazine, but we still made it. Look!” Axl then pointed at various pictures of the band.

“When you’re done with it, I’m cutting out that pic of Del and I. I’m gonna put it in my case,” Izzy smiles to Duff as he spoke. He hoped that the two would survive the road ahead.

“As long as I get this one,” Axl said pointing to a picture of just himself, laughter quickly erupting from the room.

“Food is ready,” Delilah popped her head into the room and smiled at the guys freaking out about the pictures.

#guns and roses #duff mckagan #gnr #gunsandroses #axl rose #axl #slash #steven adler #guns n roses #duff mckagan / oc #guns n’ roses fanfiction #guns n’ roses #the dare fanfic #the dare

24 notes · View notes