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#hoes dont interact those who like it leave a like or rb i appreciate it
nozomijoestar · 5 years
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Wrote NaraTrish having fun, confessing, and comforting each other bc they’re so great as either friends or a couple
*This isn’t for nasty pedo thotties or prudish infantilizing thotties, both sides of the discourse shut up 1-2 year gap max is fine and no one should ever sexualize minors with or without adults, this is for well adjusted people who recognize teens can explore sexuality and romance without showing sex or being disgusting fetish ty 
Anyway I made like 3 Aerosmith song references if you can find them cool keep on rockin (extra bonus if you know what the allusion is at the final paragraph and line) also bisexual hc for both
"Your hands are a lot bigger than mine. That's friggin unfair. I'm a guy!" Trish giggled yet the only irritation he felt aimed at himself. He knew why that was. How he once scrounged a year eating trash; no home or bed and the eyes of wolves reflected in anyone else. When he would tell her however remained uncertain. It brought only shame. "Narancia there's nothing wrong with that. Look, you're covered with callouses. I'd never get one in a million years." She smiled and separated their hands to trace along his. Her finger ran along his lifeline; a patch of skin on his left palm mangled by scars. He didn't know what quick thing he should say. His boyish eyes were too dazzled by how smooth she was by comparison. How nice she smelled. The way he carried himself just didn't cut it. But now wasn't the time to think, Trish was speaking. "If you're worried about looking manly I think you're already there. Halfway at least." Narancia groaned and hung his head. The bravado he clung to deflated. She touched their foreheads. Their hands returned to their laps. No hesitation bothered Trish when she stroked his cheek. He moved to rest his head against her shoulder. "You really think I'm doing a good job Trish? This whole thing, this fuckin mess...Your life in danger...Your asshole dad-" "I said before to all of you. Even if I have to die by the end; I won't meet it without knowing who I came from. I'll see this through never running away." She felt him sigh and lean against her. She'd flooded confidence into what she said. It was conviction. Not just because she believed it, or because facing one's problems defined responsibility. Courage propelled Narancia forward; eased past his turbulent indecisiveness whenever he wasn't under threat. Buccellati breathed such a thing as if it were life energy. Without her full awareness that will had a hand in shaping her, when exactly she couldn't say. To think the same man she might regard as a true father often disregarded Narancia being wounded short of death- that gnawed at her. To Trish, risking his life being part of the job didn't justify some callousness. Whether she loved Narancia as a man or a comrade he mattered beyond being ordered. When she realized he'd gone awfully quiet she embraced him. He was so small despite being an inch taller. A minute passed before anything came from him. "I was so scared. Following everyone- I was so so scared. Buccellati's never been wrong; but when I had to make up my own mind I froze. That's awful...I owe him everything but I froze. Why couldn't I just be ready to die for him and come along to begin with?" She pet his hair and leaned against him closing her eyes. He felt coarse, even a bit sweaty. No one could remember the last time they'd taken consistent showers. Yet the longer she felt his heart in silence the more she didn't care. Only he could do that. Of the talkative bunch Mista was a friend; but his fault lay in the ways he bore himself down. Asserted himself a bit too intensely. Narancia had been different from the start. Thus by her book he got away with less. Most importantly he was the easiest to talk to. He could be loud and quick tempered at insults- then soft spoken the moment he grew unsure in himself, or unsure at saying the right thing on his mind. Even if he didn't always understand, he knew how to consider what others suffered. Not once could Trish remember him speaking to her knowingly with ill intent. So she held him thinking, grasping in her mind for any smart sounding solutions. Anything Buccellati might say as much as it annoyed her to admit it. Ultimately that proved fruitless. No one else but Buccellati could be him after all. Instead she said, "No one is glad to die Narancia." He tensed up. Trish pulled back and looked him in the eyes; spoke directly to his heart. "No one's glad to die even if they say they are. They'll hate it right to the moment it happens. I think you were right to hesitate. That's not an easy choice." "Hmm...if you say so. Giorno gave me hope what I chose was right y'know; he's that kinda guy. I gotta figure out how to do that for me. And I guess also...the stuff you said about not giving up on finding things out..." Narancia fiddled with his hands. Mussed his hair. Buying this much time to think in conversation set off Trish's suspicions. She raised an eyebrow; that was her tell. "I thought you were a lot like me. But you don't just do things on whims, so I guess not. Sorry." The room inside the turtle grew quiet only for a pause. Trish broke it with a laugh light as air. Immediately Narancia's grim mood was wiped away by a panic. He spoke as she kept laughing. "Did I say something dumb?" Trish wiped a tear from her eye and fell calm. She had such control of her emotions sometimes he could always tell where one had stopped and the other began. Emotion through his mind took on the unguided frenzy of a storm. The idea of control, like obeying authority he didn't choose, slid off him no better than oil on water. "No no Narancia just silly. You can empathize with someone without being them." "Empathize? What's that mean?" "Means you can understand what someone feels. You understand it and share it. Usually if you've gone through similar things." "My mom died when I was younger and my dad could care less about me too. That's why I emp...empi-" "Em-pa-thigh-ze." "Yeah that. Empathize." "That's alright Narancia I get it." She wouldn't press him for more. That would come in his own time on his own terms. Not knowing everything didn't make the pang in her heart less real. "Dads suck huh?" They laughed. They didn't know if it was to mask hurt or dry humor or both. Though it felt sudden but certainly wasn't, now Trish wanted anything to change the mood. She stood up and Narancia's eyes followed in constant interest. No one needed to say anything for him to mimic her. "I never showed you my Stand did I? You were injured." In an instant every feature of Narancia's face glowed excitement. He made exaggerated gestures and talked almost twice as fast. The others could find it annoying or immature but she saw endearing. "You didn't you have to show me! What's its name? Lemme see lemme see!" "Settle down Narancia I'm not going anywhere." Trish stood still and shut her eyes. She breathed a deep breath. Her concentration would've faltered if it weren't his eyes watching. A trick she's formed was to focus on an idea of her father. How she'd hit him back. The rest came easy. "Spice Girl." A feeling on her skin like a buzz when you come close to an electric current swept over her. Behind her, from her a shimmering humanoid figure emerged. Despite all the attention it took to summon Spice Girl appeared in an instant. It matched her height and build; that was where the similarities ended. It's skin was pinks and reds and rare whites. The eyes were catty and yellow; all emotion reserved to observe the world. Symbols marked its head, kneecaps, and shoulders. Though he never finished elementary school Narancia thanked Fugo for learning to recognize them. They were equation markers. Addition and division. Something akin to a tunic with narrow rectangular gaps covered its chest. A tiny skirt resembling a Centurion's at the end of that hid the groin. It said nothing yet stared at him; peered into him as if seeing not his body but Aerosmith. Trish opened her eyes; shifted from looking lovingly up at her Stand to enthralled Narancia. His naturally big eyes gave him the wonder of a child. That she always found cute. What hitched her breath came seeing the gentle fascination, the pride for someone else, the way he stared as though it were the only thing he'd find tender. She moved to walk closer toward him and found him doing the same. He remained entranced until they gently collided. Finally his eyes fell on her again; their sweet emotion unchanged. In one of those rare contemplative moments he spoke soft but genuine. Forever genuine. He didn't know any other way to be. "It's really nice Trish. Way cooler than Aerosmith. It looks like it always knows what to do; that's you all the way. Looks strong." Suddenly her face grew red hot; her first blush not from embarrassment. If Narancia noticed he didn't say it, but he probably had. "What can it do?" "It makes anything softer. Like rubber. And that-" She rose her hand and clenched it the way Spice Girl had done at its awakening. "Makes them stronger than diamonds." Spice Girl punched the floor in a blink. The rug beneath them stretched like gum. Narancia stares down trembling ever so slightly. The fabric had appeared to melt into a reflective puddle. Shifting his feet produced a rubbery squish. It consumed him faster than quicksand. Before they could sink knee deep as the ground gave way, it was undone. He sighed and caught his breath. Little by little his composure returned. Though he would never be endangered at her hand such strength made anyone nervous. Spice Girl returned within Trish. They were within arms length. "Pretty crazy huh? I'd never have believed it till it appeared." Narancia nodded dumbly. When she took his hands again he swallowed hard; looked her head on. He had a knack for reading into anything if he applied himself. Right now it washed away under the racing of his heart. There was an energy to her expression he'd never seen on anyone. A look he once imagined Fugo might wear. His body tingled. Trish spoke uncharacteristically sheepish. Paused in places where he thought she'd be firm. Her thumbs brushed along his and it gave him a chill. He didn't want to pull back. The last bits of his rationale struggled to give answers. Was she sick? Did she need to lie down? More importantly how much longer did they have alone? What would he tell the guys? Buccellati? "Narancia I...uh well...this might be weird but- have you ever kissed someone?" A pause. His memory skipped in disbelief. "W-What?" "Kissed someone. Anyone. On the mouth." "Like how my parents used to?" Trish laughed into a sigh. "Yeah like that." Narancia scrambled to undo the burned out engine his thoughts became. He was growing way too hot. Hot the way he sometimes did dreaming of Fugo, or some magazine model, or...Trish. Those nights he'd wake up covered in sweat and dazed. The feeling crashed its way into the present faster than a plane. He couldn't meet her eyes. "No. You'll probably say it's weird but I used to...imagine that with Fugo. N-Not all the time! It would just happen and I couldn't do anything about it." "Oh? Really?" "Yeah. It's stupid cuz guys are supposed to think about girls. And that kind of stuff with them..." If he were looking he'd see some of Trish's fire dampen. She didn't let it reach her voice. "Do you still think of him that way?" "No! N-No...not since he left. I mean I can get why but, he abandoned us when we needed him." His eyes flit to her again. "When you needed him. It's made me real confused; angry too I guess." "Well it's not weird. Not to me. Don't tell anyone but sometimes I've thought of girls too and-" Trish grew fully red in the face again. Even she couldn't finish that sentence. Narancia gasped; his expression lit up with something not painful. "So you get it then! I thought I was the only one. Boys and girls...I don't think I care which." "Right? I don't think I could choose either. But my real question is-" She leaned closer letting him hear her heart through her pulse. He didn't need Aerosmith to tell her breathing went fluttery. It made him want to lean in. "Have you ever wanted to kiss me?" Wordlessly he held her. The spinning indecisiveness that had him tail diving righted itself. He stared at her with his mind made. The tiny gasp she gave at the move solidified his resolve. This wasn't a dream. "You should've just asked me that in the first place." "Eh? So you-" "To be honest I thought you'd never ask or do anything. I'm not the brightest guy at this stuff." "Sorry..." "It's alright." "Really?" "Yeah." Their faces were a hairsbreadth apart. "Ah-" Their eyes shut at the brush of their lips. Neither needed direction or would've taken any from anyone but themselves. He felt Trish wrap her arms around his neck; pressed all of herself against him the way he did her. Slowly she pulled him down with her fingers in his hair. Kissed him stronger when they knelt in sync. The feel of his touch along her jaw electrified them both. Affectionately he brushed her hair behind her ear. No longer than seconds passed each time they separated into another kiss; shallow  or meaningful. One after another. The thought of being caught with one look into the turtle from above meant nothing to their roaring hearts. How long it'd been before they separated they didn't know. They sighed against each other. Trish was the first to smile; to giggle in that mystical way Narancia couldn't explain but felt. He kissed her forehead; hated to let go. "Trish I lov-" She put a finger to his lips. "You've already said it for now. Just hold me. I wanna know you're really here." "Ok...ok." They laid on the rug embracing all the while. When she leaned against his chest and tickled his neck at each breath- that was a home. A place only they had. She tilted his chin and he gave it gladly; blushed at the kiss on his nose. At this distance he felt her heart through his. He rested his cheek atop Trish's hair. "Are people always this warm so close?" She asked. "I dunno. Never checked." "I guess we found out anyway." He heard the sleepiness in her voice. She grew heavier against him; relaxed into his shape. He looked down to find her eyes closed. Trish wrapped her arm tighter around his waist. He returned the favor as she slept. Narancia felt himself tire. Trish was the warmest heat he'd ever known. It could rage for him like a furnace one moment, then be gentler than sunlight. He blinked hard and fast. Never took his gaze off Trish. To hell if he was tired. He didn't want to miss a moment. Never one to deny his impulses he kissed her eyes. She made a soft noise against him. Like dusk to dawn the present became the past. The need to rest his body weighed upon him began to win. Before he could drift away his mind showed him a fleeting image. He was alone again. Damp and dirty and his bandaged eye burning. Two years ago that kind of night blended into the next without end. He'd clutch his only blanket tight; his only comfort against death or cold or despair. Narancia glanced at Trish a final time. The helpless boy of then rested into the arms of his blanket, his safety. He'd never slept so soundly.
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