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thereisnochillinsideme · 3 years

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Chasing Rainbows (Yuri Plisetsky x Reader)

Hi, so I made my first post recently and all of you have already been so so supportive and I thank you so much. This will be my first fic. It’s between Yuri Plisetsky and a female reader who is a pianist and part of the deaf community. i thought it was a very interesting idea when I thought of it and I wanted to share it. i asked a friend of mine who is a member of said community to help me with accuracy because I myself am not part of it. i just wanted to try out writing it. I don’t think I’ve put in anything offensive, but in the beginning, when Lilia asks the reader to play piano for Yuri, Yuri asks how she is supposed to know what she is doing. I don’t think it’s very offensive, but if the community finds it offensive, please let me know and I will take down this post immediately. There are also parts in which I want to imply that the dialogue is in sign language, because I don’t want to write out the character signing each letter. Anything in italics is dialogue in sign language, anything with the regular quotation marks are spoken dialogue, and any thoughts from the characters have just one apostrophe at beginning and end instead of quotations. I figured since Russia is where Yuri and reader are, specifically St. Petersburg, I’ve made her use Russian Sign Language and typed out according to that, though I don’t know if I made any mistakes. Please alert me if I have so I can change it. I also didn’t want to assume anything about physical appearance, so I’ve left hair length, hair color, eye color, and skin tone open to interpretation. I don’t own Yuri, but I own the story and Y/n’s personality. That said, please read and enjoy and give me any feedback! Also, my asks are open and I don’t have too many ideas right now, so please request something! Enjoy!

Yuri Plisetsky wasn’t a very big fan of people.

There wasn’t really much wrong with them, it’s just that they were distracting and he was ultra-focused on reaching his goals.

There were a couple of them that he could stand, like his grandfather and his coaches to a certain degree. But in the grand scheme of things, Yuri Plisetsky decided to mostly stay away from people.

This is why he was so annoyed with his ballet coaches new announcement.

“A live pianist? What for?” Lilia rubbed her temples in exasperation. “You have trouble expressing certain emotions during your performances. Some come naturally, but others don’t. The music is what determines the emotion you’re trying to express, so what better way to help with that then to see the person making that music.”

Yuri groaned. “They’ll just slow me down and make mistakes! The recorded playing is enough for me! I don’t need a person!” Lilia looked at him with an annoyed expression.

“Do you remember what you said to me the first time we met? ‘If selling my soul is what it takes to win, I’ll give you this body, no holds barred.’ Are you going back on your word? If you’ll really do whatever it takes to win, this should be no problem.”

Yuri looked down and nodded his head. I guess I can find some way to deal with this.

Lilia smiled. “Good, you’ll meet her tomorrow.”

Yuri internally groaned again. Her? It was a girl? Great. She’ll probably fangirl over me so much I won’t get time to practice.

The next morning, Lilia informed him that the pianist would be joining them in the studio shortly, as she would be a bit late. Yuri was hoping she wouldn’t come at all.

But alas, his prayers were unheard when there was a knock at the studio door. Lilia immediately opened it to reveal a girl with h/l, h/c hair, e/c eyes, and a very cold and stoic expression, a red lollipop sticking out of the right side of her mouth. He noticed that strangely, she had gloves on.

The brown leather outlined the shape of her fingers so he had a slight idea of what her hand was like, but he wondered what she was hiding under the soft leather.

After she opened the door, Lilia began doing some strange hand signs that Yuri didn’t recognize. She moved her hands around rapidly, pointing at Yuri a couple times so the girl turned her attention towards him. She peeked out from behind Lilia and raised a gloved hand in greeting, the stoic expression never leaving. He nodded an acknowledgement, wondering if she knew who he was.

When Lilia finished her hand signs, the girl replied with some of her own. She then walked to the sleek black piano in the corner of the room and began running her gloved fingers over the keys. Yuri decided to try and talk to her, see if she was a fangirl.

“Hey,” He called out in her direction. it seemed like she wasn’t listening. All her attention was on the keyboard, running the smooth leather over the ivory keys.

“Hey!” He tried again.

Lilia walked over to him and began watching you as well. “She can’t hear you.”

Yuri was confused.

“What is she, deaf?”

“Yes,” Lilia replied

Yuri was very confused. How were you supposed to play the piano if you couldn’t hear? He couldn’t risk anything right now, he needed to win the Grand Prix!

“How the hell is she supposed to play the piano if she can’t hear?! She’s going to slow me down!! She doesn’t even talk, she just does her weird little hand signs!! i need someone who knows what they’re doing!!”

At this point, the girl had stopped looking at the keys and turned her attention towards Yuri yelling at Lilia. She looked to Lilia, silently questioning with her hands what Yuri had said. Lilia launched into rapid sign language, explaining everything Yuri had said. Yuri watched her expression, expecting her to cry or something. What he wasn’t ready for was her reaction.

As Lilia finished explaining, Yuri waited for the tears to start dripping down her face. Instead though, he heard a clear scoff come from her throat. He looked at her in surprise, hearing a crack as she bit down sharply on her red lollipop. She made your way over to him and grabbed him by the shirt collar with one gloved hand, bringing her face centimeters away from his. “H-hey! Put me down!”He could smell her cherry lollipop on her breath as she opened her mouth. He froze once he heard words streaming out.

“For the record, I can speak, pretty boy. I just don’t prefer to. I can communicate much more effectively through BSL. Yeah, I’m deaf, you got a problem with that? I may not be able to hear, but I can confidently tell you that I am the best pianist you can get around here. You want someone who can hear, don’t you? Someone who ‘knows what they’re doing’.” She said the words in a mocking tone. “No one but me decides whether I play for you or not. And you’ve just showed me that you’re not worth my time. Go settle for some second-rate pianist and have fun prancing around. I have stuff to do.” She dropped him down like a sack of potatoes, signed a quick goodbye to Lilia, and walked to the door.

Before she left, she stopped for a minute and looked back, quickly taking the lollipop out of her mouth. “Stop hiding behind your red.” She said, popping it back in. She walked out without a second glance

Lilia looked at the boy, still frozen, lying on the ground, barely hearing what the girl had said. Lilia pinched the bridge of her nose. “You just lost a very good pianist. I can try to find someone else, but they won’t be as good as her. I hope you realize what you just did. Now get back to practice, we’ll use recordings for today.”

After practice, Yuri began to think of the girl. If she couldn’t hear her own playing, how on earth would she know if she was playing well or not? It was impossible!

As he lay on his bed, he began to think more about the encounter he had with her, the bright red cherry lollipop peeking out of pearly white teeth, the light scent of leather wafting into his nose from the glove holding firmly on his shirt collar, what might have happened had she brought her face… just… a bit… closer…

His face immediately turned red as he covered his face in exasperation. What on earth was he thinking?! Why would he want to do… that… with her of all people?! He had only seen her today and she threatened him and left the studio!

Stop it Yuri. You shouldn’t be thinking such stupid things. You have a Grand Prix to win. You have to beat the piggy.

Lilia knocked on his door. “Come down for dinner. Are you sick? You’re as red as borscht!”

“I’m fine! Be down soon.” Lilia left as Yuri splashed cold water on his face, trying to rid himself of thoughts of you.

The next morning, Lilia brought in a new girl named Katerina. She was a bit of a fangirl, but Yuri figured he could deal with that.

At least she could hear her own playing.

During their practice, Katerina messed up the combinations at least 3 times each, Lilia making them start over every time this happened. By the end, Yuri’s legs felt like jelly and he had yelled at Katerina 7 times. The minute Lilia said she could leave, she ran out the door, hastily grabbing her things. At least now she knew why they called him the Russian Punk.

Yuri looked at Lilia staring critically on him as he lay on the floor, desperately trying to catch his breath.

“Couldn’t you *pant* find *pant* anyone *pant* better?’

“You had that chance before, you just threw it away.”

Yuri groaned, she was still going on about that.

“Just how good can a deaf person be at piano anyways?”

Lilia sighed. “You want to see?”

She pointed at the studio window that overlooked the street. Over on the other side was the girl walking with her lollipop and gloves. Even from here, her usual stoic expression was still visible. It never left her face.

“Follow her. Don’t let her see you. If you don’t take my word on her playing, you’ll have to see it yourself.”

Yuri sighed, but not questioning his instructor, he put on his jacket and walked out into the cold night, following the girl and her red lollipop. He hid in the dark corners they passed so that she couldn’t see him and pulled his jacket over his head, covering his tiger shirt. He shadowed her until they got to a small café, lit up by the string lights outside. He wondered why Lilia would make him follow her to a café, but not one to question his instructor, he crept inside, making sure she couldn’t see him.

The entire café greeted her with a yell. “Y/n!” they said. Y/n. So that’s her name. I never even got to learn it. He thought. He then wondered why he was thinking that because he would never have to use her name. Though she couldn’t hear, Y/n seemed to know they were greeting her and raised a gloved hand to return the gesture, her stoic expression still there during her greeting. He went and sat in a far corner of a café watching the girl with bored eyes. She walked up to the counter and gave some signs to the cashier, who returned them with some of her own and a bag with a single cheese danish inside. Yuri wondered why his instructor had sent him to follow this girl and watch her buy a danish. Nevertheless, he continued watching her.

He had nothing to do, after all.

As she was about to sign a goodbye to the cashier, he saw a small kid, around 6 years old, tug at the leg of her pants. She bent down to his height and tilted her head, silently asking him what he wanted. Yuri watched as he brought his hands up in front of him, making shaky hand gestures while still speaking to her out loud. “Miss Y/n… would you… play for us a little bit?” Yuri watched her. He saw something strange. Y/n’s stoic expression was slowly contorting. Her lips turning upwards and her eyes growing softer. She nodded a yes with a smile on her face. She ruffled the boy’s hair and held his hand as she walked to the piano at the back of the café. She sat on the bench and the boy sat beside her. She looked at him anticipation, waiting for him to pick something for her to play. He pulled some sheet music out of the bag laying next to the piano and handed it to her. She only looked at the first page for a split second, reading the title before nodding and handing it back. Finally, finger by finger, she pulled off the leather gloves. Yuri could see nothing at all different about her hands. They were just like anyone else’s hands, covered in s/c skin, with the lithe fingers of a musician. Yuri and the boy sitting next to Y/n watched her hands as she lifted them and placed them lightly on the keys. She lifted them again, preparing to start the song.

The minute her fingers pressed down on the keys, Yuri could no longer hear the notes. He only heard a sound. It was a beautiful sound, but he couldn’t really identify it. He didn’t hear the combinations of the notes she pressed, he heard music. It was less of what he was hearing and more of what he was feeling. It was just something in the way that she played the notes. Maybe it was how hard she pressed the keys, or when she pushed the pedal. No, it’s not any of that. He thought. It was the feeling she put into the music. The music brought him back to a memory. He was laughing, eating pirozhkis with his grandpa. He didn’t know what they were laughing about and he didn’t care. He was just happy to be there, with the person he loves. But how could she, someone who doesn’t even know him, be able to bring him back to such a precious, private memory with her playing? He then began to realize that it wasn’t the memory that she was conveying.

It was the feelings tethered to that memory.

There was love, and there was a second feeling. He would try to put it into words if he could, but it only felt like one thing.

Home.

He fell deeper into the haze of memories she threw him in, thinking about all the things he did with his grandpa back home. The playing made him feel like he was actually there, with his grandpa next to him, sitting with him after a practice ran late, eating pirozhki, laughing over something stupid.

He looked around at the people around him, all smiling fondly and he realized that the feeling she conveyed wasn’t just for him. It reached everyone. For him, that memory was of him and his grandfather. For the two men at the other table it was something else. It was a different memory for the 5 kids and 3 women as well.

It amazed Yuri, how she was able to make a simple combination of notes on an instrument convey such an intense feeling and hold such a personal meaning for every person in the room. He now realized why Lilia wanted her to help with the emotions.

Y/n gave a hug to the little boy and walked out with her cheese danish. After regaining his composure, Yuri left as well and went back to Lilia’s house. Lilia met him at the door, not asking any questions. But, as he walked by her, she quickly pulled his hood down, allowing her to see his face. “Your red, it’s fading. You did hear her play.” Yuri was confused by the words, but shrugged them off because he was tired. He walked up the stairs to his room, letting the love that still enveloped him deteriorate with each step.

The next day, after another mistake-filled practice with Katerina, Yuri crept behind Y/n again to hear her play at the café again. He did the same the day after that, and the day after that. The routine was like clockwork. Practice finished, and he followed the girl with her red lollipop and gloves. Every night it was a different piece that resurfaced a different memory. Songs with love, tranquility, joy and others. He would always keep his face straight, but let the emotion wash over him. Tonight, it was one filled with intense anger. With a different piece came a different memory. He began to remember when he had lost Victor to the piggy back in Hasetsu, even though he thought he had finally found his Agape. Agape wasn’t easy for him and finding it was one of the hardest things he had to do. The piggy didn’t even know how to perform Eros and he won with it by thinking of a pork cutlet bowl. They were good, but they shouldn’t have been good enough to make him win! It wasn’t fair. Victor always broke his promises. He remembered how he walked out of the competition early because it was painfully obvious that the piggy won.

He clenched his fists so hard his knuckles grew paler than they already were, which seemed impossible. He thought of how close Victor was with the piggy, how the piggy would be the one doing the routines Victor created, how he was not even sure that he could beat the piggy now that he had Victor. He didn’t even notice when you ended the piece, still stuck in a haze of red. He didn’t notice when the man at the table near him started crying, muttering something about his former wife. All he noticed was his own anger, all he could see was red.

Until he noticed,

He wasn’t supposed to be seeing red.

He was supposed to see the dark yellow hiding behind it.

She wasn’t conveying anger.

She was conveying betrayal.

The music was rapid and fast-paced, but it had an undertone of sorrow and longing.

Yuri wasn’t mad at Victor.

He was sad.

Sad that his trust was broken.

Sad that he couldn’t rely on him.

Y/n began playing something else.

Through the sorrow, Yuri began to listen.

At this point, he didn’t know what to feel.

The piece permeated his being, he could feel it through every part of his body.

It was the most beautiful piece he had ever heard in his entire life.

Yuri didn’t know what chords were in the piece, or how fast it was, or even if it was being played wrong.

All he heard was music.

Music in its purest form.

He had no idea what it was supposed to make him feel.

Yuri realized, it wasn’t supposed to make him feel anything at all.

The music was just music.

Music is just a combination of notes put in a certain order.

The emotions didn’t come from there.

They came from the person making the music.

He finally understood why he had trouble expressing certain emotions in competition.

It was like the colors.

He had all of them, an entire palette like everyone else. He was afraid that they weren’t pretty enough for other people to see, so he covered all of them with a thick curtain of red.

But here was Y/n.

She was here, showing off her rainbow to everyone else, letting them know that they had the rainbow inside.

Letting him know that she could see past his red.

Some people don’t like certain colors.

There are those who dislike red, some who hate blue, a couple who can’t stand the sight of purple.

But there are those who love those same colors.

Which side are you supposed to cater to?

You can’t please everybody.

You don’t need to please anyone at all.

You possess all the colors and you can use all of them as you wish, you can create.

We are rainbows.

We are humans.

The realization overtook his body. His eyes started to water. The tears started coming out and he didn’t even try to stop them. This was how he felt and he needed to accept it. The red curtain was blown away as he saw the rainbow inside of him. His sadness, joy, love, everything.

He was no longer a red cloud.

He was a rainbow.

She opened him.

The feelings swallowed him as she ended the piece, walking to the counter to get her danish.

But before she left, she walked straight to the table he was sitting at, tapping him on the forehead. “Oi, pretty boy, get up. Lilia’s probably worried. “

Yuri was surprised. How did she know it was him?! As if she was reading his mind, she replied. “You aren’t very good at creeping around and the hood does little to hide your face. Walk with me.” Dumbfounded and still dazed, Yuri got up and obeyed Y/n, walking next to her. She took out her lollipop, which was now nothing more than a stick, and threw it out. She picked the danish out of the bag and bit into it as they walked out of the café. They walked a bit in silence before they came across a ledge overlooking the nearby canal. Y/n sat down and patted the spot next to her, gesturing for Yuri to do the same. He obediently sat and watched the water move. She took another bite out of the danish before offering it to him. He took a small bite and leaned back, continuing to watch the water.

Soon, she began to speak.

“I noticed you the first time you followed me. i didn’t say anything because I knew it was Lilia’s doing.”

She turned her head, making direct eye contact with him for the first time since the day in the studio. Her eyes reflected the yellow from the dim streetlamps that surrounded the canal.

“Give me your hand.” She said simply.

Yuri agreed though he was still confused. She began tracing the lines on his palm before stopping at a specific one.

“You see that?” She asked. He nodded. “This is where your nails have left imprints on your palms, meaning you clench your fists a lot. It shows me how angry you get.”

She then tapped a covered finger between his eyebrows. “There’s a crease here, meaning you frown a lot.” She brought that finger down to the side of his lips. “You also have this small wrinkle here, showing that your lips are usually angled downward, adding to the frowning.” Her gloved fingers stayed there, brushing over the dent in his skin. He began to turn red when he realized the position they were in. She seemed to notice too, quickly retracting her hand, trying to hide the extremely faint blush on her face.

“W-what I mean is, if anyone looks at you for a couple seconds, they can see the small signs that tell how much you get angry."

“Your anger is a force to be reckoned with, that’s clear to see. But you give it too much power so that it shrouds your other emotions. Many people are like that. We all have one emotion that usually overpowers our others. The trick is learning how to control it as much as your others. The emotions you are composed of are what make you human. Your humanity is not something you invalidate.”

She stood up. “Lilia will get worried soon, you should get back.”

As he stood up as well, she stopped him and brushed the hair away from his eyes. She stared into them, and surprisingly, let out a soft giggle. He gave her a questioning look. “Your red.” She said. “It’s cleared.” She tucked the hair behind his ear and walked off in the opposite direction, leaving Yuri to think about her for the rest of the night.

The next morning, Yuri went to the studio, expecting another day filled with Katerina and mistakes. What he didn’t expect to see was Y/n with her gloves off playing warm-up scales on the piano. He looked at her in awe as Lilia made her way over to whisper in his ear. “We somehow got her back, don’t botch this up again.”

Practice went perfectly that day. Y/n never made a mistake with what she was asked to play, and Yuri began to let his emotions take the lead in the dance. He was slow to accept them at first, but gradually let them in. Once practice ended, Yuri walked up to Y/n and tapped her on the shoulder. She looked at him, wondering what he wanted.

He brought his hand up, closing it into a fist. He then brought his fist to his chest and moved it in a circular motion. Y/n’s eyes widened.

He was saying sorry.

Yuri then brought his open hand to his chin and then moved it forward, clearly mouthing two words so that she could read his lips.

Thank you.

Y/n remained in shock for a minute and Yuri feared he had done something wrong. ‘Damn YouTube video!! They probably gave me the wrong gestures! What if I said something offensive?!’

The thoughts stopped streaming in when he heard Y/n speak again. “No problem pretty boy. Just refrain from saying anything stupid. Now I have a danish waiting for me. Want to come?”

Yuri nodded, following Y/n out of the studio.

He stopped her once again outside the café, a strange look on his face. “Got something to say?” She asked. He nodded. “If you enunciate well enough, I can lip-read.”

He opened his mouth. “That day, what I said to you about you not ‘knowing what you were doing’, I’m sorry. I’ve been under so much pressure for my senior debut and I was scared that you might slow me down. You are an amazing pianist and I shouldn’t have judged you like that. I know i insulted the entire deaf or hard-of-hearing community and I sincerely apologize.”

Y/n nodded. “Just because I’m deaf doesn’t mean I can’t do stuff like any other normal person. Don’t worry, I accept your apology. Just don’t say anything like that again, pretty boy.”

Yuri nodded in understanding and continued into the café for Y/n’s daily performance.

After that day, the boy’s routine changed a bit. He would wake up and go to practice, but afterwards, instead of hiding in alleyways trying not to be seen, Yuri would walk side by side with Y/n, talking and laughing on the way. He would enunciate his words more clearly so she could lip-read and understand him. He also started taking some online sign-language courses so that he could communicate with her more effectively. Their conversations were mixes of a few words and signs, but in the end, both understood each other perfectly. Y/n started to carry around two cherry lollipops, one for Yuri. Yuri would carry around an extra jacket for Y/n, who frequently forgot to wear one. “Seriously dumbass! Who remembers to wear gloves but not a jacket?!” “Me.” “You’re an idiot.”

Every night, Yuri would sit in on Y/n’s performances and they would share the danish on the way home. They would sign a goodnight at the canal and repeat it all over the next day.

Their conversations were of anything they could find to talk about, resulting in both knowing extremely random things about each other. ‘Y/n only wears the gloves because she’s really prone to dry skin. Yuri has three cat-ear headbands. Y/n doesn’t even know that she looks mean. Her stoic face is just her resting face. Yuri believes conspiracy theories. Y/n has a least favorite multiple of three, it’s 27. Yuri has a pair of fluorescent orange socks with cats all over them. Y/n’s feet are cold 24/7 because she doesn’t like wearing socks. She thinks they feel weird.’

Eventually, one day, Yuri decided to go to the rink and skate as a change of pace. He also decided to bring Y/n with him.

Can you skate? He signed as he watched her lace up her skates. “I can move around without falling, if that’s what you mean.” She steadily replied out loud.

Y/n stood at the side of the rink as she watched Yuri perform the Agape that failed him back at Hasetsu. His movements were perfect, but the emotion was not. The movements, aside from being perfect, were so sharp and harsh that Y/n physically winced. Yuri had vented to her many times about the incident at Hasetsu involving Victor and the other Yuuri, so she had a basic idea of the situation. As he finished, she gestured for him to come over. This is the routine from back at Hasetsu, correct? She signed. He nodded. Your agape isn’t there. You’re letting the anger from the incident cloud the entire routine so it becomes angry. Don’t think about Victor during the routine. Think of your agape. Yuri nodded and tried the routine again. This time, his movements were still perfect, but more fluid and beautiful. Y/n smiled. Now this is agape.

As they made their way back, through broken signs and a couple words, Yuri explained his desire to beat the other Yuuri at his next competition. Y/n giggled. She thought it was cute, the way that Yuri referred to people by little sign language nicknames he made for them instead of spelling out their names. He referred to Victor as just V in sign language, not wanting to spell out his name. He referred to the other Yuri by putting an open palm under his chin and curling and uncurling his knuckles, the sign for pig. He referred to Yakov as old man, and Lilia as scary ballerina. She wondered how he would refer to her. One day, when she got curious enough, she asked him. She expected him to do something silly, but instead, he hooked his index fingers together and shook his fists twice.

Best friend

Y/n felt a rush of happiness. This was the first time anyone had called her their friend, much less their best friend. She immediately hugged Yuri and felt him stiffen under her. He was frozen for a few seconds, but eventually, he wrapped his arms around her, muttering “Don’t go all soft on me now.” even though he knew she couldn’t hear him. She could see the blush on his face when she pulled away, but she decided not to mention it in hopes of hugging him more often. She blushed at the thought she just had. Why did she want to continue hugging Yuri?

Y/n brushed off the thought and continued walking with Yuri as he changed the subject by asking her a different question.

Slowly, Y/n began to get more comfortable with Yuri, the same with Yuri. One day, he finally plucked up the courage to ask her something he had been wondering for a very long time.

If you don’t mind me asking, how can you speak so well?

Y/n smiled sadly at the question as she signed back.

I was born with hearing, but it slowly deteriorated due to a medical condition. When I was 9, it went away entirely. I could already speak quite well and I just learned sign language.

Y/n gave Yuri a moment to register what she said because he was still a beginner when it came to sign language. She then continued when he nodded.

I always loved to play piano. I stopped for some time after I lost my hearing because I was afraid of making mistakes. Eventually, I realized that hearing wasn’t what was stopping me from making music. It was me who was stopping myself. Mind over matter. Once I broke down my personal barriers, I could play again. I’ve applied to a couple conservatories recently to see if I could play professionally.

Yuri stopped walking and held Y/n’s hand as he stared into her eyes. Something wrong? She asked. He put a hand on her cheek as he continued staring into her eyes. It’s blue, isn’t it? He signed. Your dominant color. Sorrow. Y/n nodded.

I know i said all that stuff about mind over matter, but almost everyday, I wish I could hear at least one note that I play. I would give anything at all to hear the music.

Yuri moved forward and wrapped his arms around Y/n as a few tears dripped from her eyes. It was still, quiet, except for Y/n’s barely audible sobs echoing in the empty street. Suddenly, Yuri felt something drop on his head. He looked up to see a drizzle starting, eventually becoming full-on rain. Y/n slowly pulled away as she felt it too. As she looked at the rain coming from above, she began to smile. She grabbed Yuri’s hands.

Dance with me, she signed.

Yuri laughed. There’s no music.

So? Who needs it. I certainly don’t.

Yuri scoffed at the girl’s silly behavior before putting his hands on her waist while she did the same on his shoulders. They swayed slightly, Y/n moving forward to rest her head on Yuri’s chest, his chin on top of her head. Both were blushing, neither could see. They just lived in the moment, each relishing the feeling of the other in their arms.

After some time, Y/n pulled away. I don’t want you to catch a cold. We should get home.

Yuri grabbed onto her wrist. Wait.

I wanted to tell you something.

Then say it. She was always so blunt.

I would’ve, but I believe actions speak much louder than words you can’t hear.

Y/n raised an eyebrow. What did he mean?

Yuri tilted the girl’s chin up, moving forward until his lips met her own.

If someone told Y/n the day she met Yuri Plisetsky, that one day she’d be kissing him in the rain, his arms holding her as if she’d disappear once he let go, she would’ve drop-kicked them to Japan.

But right now, she wasn’t thinking of the ironicity of the situation, or even what would happen after the kiss. She was thinking of what she could do to make sure Yuri Plisetsky didn’t stop kissing her. As they continued, Yuri reached for her hand, only to pull off her glove and stick it in his pocket. He did the same to her other hand as she took her bare hand and tangled it in the soft blond mass of hair, lifting it away so she could see Yuri’s perfect green eyes. But she wasn’t going to see them. She was too afraid to open her eyes, fearing that once she did, she would discover that all of this wasn’t real and she was still alone.

But as she felt Yuri’s lips on her own, his hands on her waist, she had a sudden rush of courage. She slowly opened her eyes, only to be met by Yuri’s own green ones, there, clear as day. Tears started streaming down her face, mixing with the rain. Yuri immediately noticed and pulled away. What’s wrong?

Nothing. I’m just so happy. I thought I would open my eyes and you wouldn’t be there, or you’d disappear-

Yuri pulled her into him and held her tight. He kissed the top of her head as she buried her face into his chest. He held her there tightly so she wouldn’t see the tears on his own face as he, knowing she couldn’t hear him, bent next to her ear and whispered “I’m right here.”

He shivered and pulled away, signing at her. We’re going to catch a cold dumbass! Why do you like rain so much anyway?

Y/n looked up at him, a smile on her face, holding up shaky hands.

After the rain, comes the rainbow.

After that day, Yuri’s routine was altered a bit more. It was still mostly the same, he would have practice in the mornings, walk to Y/n’s performances, but it was different in the little ways, which he liked.

He liked how he now held Y/n’s gloveless hand on the way to the café as they continued to talk and laugh over whatever they could find. He liked how he walked her out of the café with an arm around her waist. He liked how they spent a few extra minutes at the canal, watching the water and stealing kisses before leaving.

He never wanted it to end.

But it did.

Yuri finally got his assignments.

On the same day, Y/n got an offer from a piano conservatory in England.

Both were panicking.

Neither knew about the other.

They were too afraid to leave each other behind.

The walk to the café that day was quiet, both were thinking of how to tell the other.

They tried to put it off as long as possible.

After Y/n played at the café, they ended up blurting it out at the same time.

Neither knew what to say.

Y/n made the first move. She walked forward and wrapped Yuri in a hug as he hugged back. She pulled away.

I’m so proud of you! She signed.

And I’m proud of you! He replied.

You’ve made such amazing progress with your agape and I know how amazing you are. You’re going to win gold! I know it!

Yuri smiled. And I know how amazing you’ll do at the Conservatory!

Yuri’s smiled started to fade. I don’t want to lose you. I want to pursue my dreams and I want you to chase your’s, but I can’t wake up every morning pining for you.

Y/n understood. The feelings were strong, but it couldn’t be like this. Both of them had their own dreams and would do anything to achieve them.

I understand Yuri. Which is why i think we should give this relationship some time. You are the right person, but it’s too early. We can both achieve our dreams and pick up where we left off. We have to chase our own rainbows.

Yuri thought about that. Skating was something he loved, but he also loved Y/n. Y/n loved her piano, but she also loved him. The relationship was nice, but he wanted to win gold, and a relationship wasn’t what he needed right now. She didn’t need it either. He nodded.

It’s probably a better idea to get our careers more on track before this. But I want you to know that I do love you. I love you so much. Never forget that.

Y/n grabbed his hand and stroked it. I love you too. More than anything.

Y/n looked down at his hand and smiled as he raised an eyebrow. What are you smiling at? Y/n pointed down at his hand.

The line I showed you that day, the one left by your nails. It’s gone. You haven’t clenched your fists as much. She lifted her hand to his face. The creases are gone too. You’ve improved Yuri! She cupped his cheek. Yuri smiled.

It’s all because of you.

You showed me my rainbow.

Y/n came to see Yuri off at the airport when he left to compete. Her flight to England would leave the next day. She grabbed Yuri’s hand right before he boarded the plane.

Don’t forget to text me. You have my number. Just because we’re on a break doesn’t mean you’re not my friend anymore, pretty boy.

Yuri laughed. I thought you stopped with that nickname.

Never, pretty boy.

Okay, I promise, now my flight will leave without me.

Fine, I’ll let you go.

As she let go and he was about to leave, she grabbed him again. He turned around.

What now?

It’s just… I love you. Don’t forget that.

Yuri rolled his eyes. I love you too idiot, and I couldn’t forget you if I tried. Now I have to board my plane.

She nodded. Go Yuri. Go chase that rainbow and don’t you dare stop.

Yuri walked to the flight attendant who then scanned his boarding pass. He looked back to see Y/n waving at him. He waved back and forced himself to leave, not looking back. Y/n did the same. It hurt for both of them, but they knew it was for the best.

4 years later…

Yuri laced on his skates while he thought about the girl waiting in the audience for him. He thought about all he had to go through those past 4 years without her. There were days when he woke up feeling horrible, needing her comfort, but unable to receive it. There were even days when he hated her. Scrolling through his Instagram to see a picture of her standing a bit too close to a male friend. He even tried to move on a couple times, agreeing to small dates with the women who flirted with him at parties. But every night, he would come home dejected because those women were not her. They knew nothing except his physical appearance. They didn’t know about his fuzzy pair of orange cat socks and they didn’t tease him about the fact that he believed in conspiracy theories because he never told them any of that stuff. He couldn’t tell them any of that stuff.

They weren’t her.

They never would be.

He couldn’t ever find someone like her, she was one of a kind.

There were days when he thought he would never feel love again.

But there was something that kept him going.

Six words

I love you. Don’t forget that.

The message she sent after he saw that photo ranting about how annoying that male classmate was, the good-luck FaceTime she gave him before every serious performance, him doing the same to her. All the little things kept him afloat.

And most of all, the promise she made him.

He was talking to her late at night, trying not to get caught by Yakov. He was ranting about how the music for his performances just never felt right to him. Yuri’s eyes were beginning to droop out of exhaustion and she saw his signs getting slightly more sloppy, he was getting sleepier. He was lying down, and as she continued signing, she saw his eyes close as he fell fast asleep. She smiled at the sight of sleeping Yuri before her. She didn’t know that he was only half asleep, so he could still hear. She did something she hadn’t done since the night she showed him his rainbow.

She spoke to him.

It was only 11 words, a promise that she didn’t expect him to hear, but he did.

“Yuri Plisetsky, I promise, one day, i will play for you.”

She then ended the call to let him sleep, not realizing that he heard you.

He kept that promise in mind during every performance, giving them all his best no matter how he felt. He was going to achieve his dreams so that he could see her again.

And he made it.

He won gold at the Olympics, breaking many records in the process.

She had become a critically acclaimed pianist, performing in a world-touring orchestra and teaching children when she had time.

Their dreams were achieved.

And now, she was there in the audience, about to see him for the first time in person after 4 years.

He still loved her.

She still loved him.

And she was keeping her promise.

He skated onto the rink, ignoring the crowd cheering and looking for only one face.

There she was,

Right in the front row, closest to the rink.

She had changed.

She no longer wore the gloves, and she didn’t carry around the red lollipop.

But it was still her.

As his name was being announced, Y/n and Yuri looked at each other.

He signed one thing to her, something he wished he could say to her again every day after he left.

I love you

Y/n signed it back

I love you too. Now kick some ass out there. I didn’t record this piece for nothing

Yuri smiled, she really hadn’t changed much at all.

He listened to the announcer.

“Now, we have Olympic gold medalist,Yuri Plisetsky, skating to “Rainbow”, an original song by the London Philharmonic Orchestra, written and conducted by Y/n L/n with a piano solo from her as well.”

Yuri took a deep breath as the starting notes of the song rung in his ears.

It was amazing.

He threw himself into the performance, every movement perfect, the love perfectly clear in every breath he took. It was the best performance of his career.

Because she was there.

As the last few notes rang out while he was in his ending pose, he was only looking at her and she was only looking at him.

They were the only two people in the world.

The score didn’t matter to him now, it didn’t matter to either of them.

She got out of her seat and threw her leg over the barrier separating you from the rink. Y/n knew it was reckless to get on the rink without skates, but she didn’t care.

Yuri skated over and caught her as she jumped over the barrier into his arms.

He was still holding her, so he couldn’t sign. Y/n read his lips instead.

“You idiot.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too idiot. You really couldn’t wait, could you?”

“I’ve waited 4 years. That’s enough.”

She grabbed his face and roughly kissed him, still in his arms, as the audience cheered.

“I kept my promise, didn’t I, I’m still here.” Yuri said with a smirk.

“Yes, you did. Why did you chase after me anyways?”

Yuri grinned.

“After all the rain comes the rainbow. i never stop chasing my rainbows."

#yuri on ice #yuri on ice x reader #yuri plisetsky #yuuri katsuki #romance #fanfic #victor nikirofov #victor x yuuri #yuri on ice fluff #yuri on ice fanfiction #yuri on ice fandom #yuri on ice fanart #x reader

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wxldchxld · 3 years

Text

This started out as like, a light piece just to describe what Beck’s workspace looks like and I won’t lie I’m a little obsessed with it. People always ask me like how tf Harper and Beck get along and... this. It’s this. Harper turns into a big sappy baby who lives off of nothing but Loving Her Wife Juice.

I’ll probably go back and edit this a couple of times for typos and other things but I love it so much I just wanna post it rn. And I won’t be putting it under a cut so y’all will have to live with it.

Harper knocked, almost tentatively, on the open door. From outside she could smell the intoxicating aroma of fir trees and herbs, sweetened by dried apples and candied citrus, drawing the attention of any passersby and calling them in. But she lingered there, knocking a second time when she got no response. Somewhere an old record player was crackling as Judy Garland sang about far away places over a rainbow, and a warm voice was humming along with it. Harper gently ran her thumb over one of the embroidered silk foxes among flower petals embedded into the translucent curtain that covered the door. The fabric, a deep ocean blue, shuffled under her attention, and the little creatures looked as if they were dancing.

Even on the threshold of Beck’s workshop, the world felt so slow. Time didn’t abide by schedules and obligations. It flowed like a lazy river on the precipice of winter, slowly but surely crusting over with ice. If she stood still long enough, would it freeze entirely? Or would the warm glow that haloed her lover forever melt away the sharpest crystals and encourage it to move on?

She didn’t need to knock. She didn’t need permission to enter. Not only did she doubt Beck would care, but the building was hers. The city--in its own way--was hers. It was her nature to utterly and completely possess things---to take them into herself to keep. If someone asked, she’d likely have even said Beck was hers.

But she had no claim over this place. It was a feeling that went far deeper than any deed or contract or organization. The magic here was so perfectly interwoven with it that it felt like it belonged to Beck.

Inside the room, there was a little tsk and a rich, quiet laugh. “What are you doing hanging out there like a bat? The door is open.”

The door was always open. Beck still clung to the old superstitions of their people. Ancient rules about hospitality and ways witches ought to behave. Rules made in a time when their people had been valued and listened to, long before Christians had turned them into a target and Google had rendered them obsolete. But Beck claimed it wasn’t about people, it was about magic, and its strange laws that were shrouded in mystery. Magic, she said, liked to know its witches were always open and welcome to it. In return for a witch’s “proper” hospitality, magic would sweep away the bad luck that so often got caught behind closed doors. And--again according to Beck--spirits were much the same, and closing the door on them might cause otherwise benign entities to turn dark with anger.

But Harper had been raised by much less traditional witches. One specifically that would have worn her back end raw with a wooden spoon for letting the heat escape and airing their business out in front of their neighbors.

She pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the room, leaving any lingering thoughts of her mother laid on the doorstep with the rest of her worries.

The apartment was an explosion of barely organized chaos. Dried herbs and flowers hung from the ceiling or were pressed between the thick, heavy pages of spellbooks laying on the shelves beside jars stuffed with candied fruits and tea leaves. Knitwork and embroidery and tapestries and clothing in all states of completion were laid out on tables or hung up from the wall. Live plants in brightly colored pots lounged in the sunlight that poured in from the huge windows on the far side of the wall. There was a collection of open-faced cabinets filled with canisters of wood and glass and stone that sat in clusters with no apparent system of coordination. Above her the high ceilings had been turned into an aerial playground of wooden bridges, little boxes, and plush cushions either nailed into the wall or floating in midair among the drying plants where her most cantankerous familiar could sit and look down on the apartment like a goddess. A fire roared energetically to her right, and to her left there was a small kitchen where an enormous pot of sliced apples was being attended by an enchanted spoon.

It was nothing like the penthouse they shared when Harper left her work to come home. But oddly enough Beck’s workshop didn’t feel cramped or chaotic. It was warm. It was inviting. Everything melted together on the merit that no two things were remotely related to one another in any sensible way. A way that suggested every single item had been purposefully hand picked or handmade by the master of the domain and placed precisely where they were meant to be.

And there she sat, behind it all, nestled among the plants in front of a wall of windows. Her feet were curled up in the plush, gliding rocker beside her, and she was smiling up at her through a halo of sunlight. In this place she was a queen, and her crown was made of braids entangled with wildflowers and encrusted with knitting needles and crochet hooks that she had stuck away for safekeeping and promptly forgotten about. She was holding a little stuffed creature in one hand, and pulling a needle and thread in the other.

Beck always seemed fondly amused by the slow, reverent way Harper entered her domain. Their eyes met for a few gentle seconds, and then Beck looked to her right, where something shimmering and half formed in the sunlight began to move. Harper tried to focus on the spirit, but it collapsed in on itself and turned into a yellow moth as big as her hand, and lazily fluttered into the shadow of a flower by the window.

“That doesn’t unnerve you?” Harper asked, taking a seat in an armchair across from her girlfriend.

Again the blonde let out a breezy laugh that harmonized with the music in the background.

“You spend half your nights in an enchanted necropolis in some undisclosed abyss with only dead people and a renegade faerie for company, and an air spirit unnerves you.” She said, a playful perk in her brow.

Harper scoffed in feigned offense. “Dead things don’t think. They don’t watch me. I don’t like to be watched.”

“What a shame. You’re quite the sight to look at.”

Now Harper laughed, a rare, genuine chuckle of amusement. She wasn’t modest by any means, but Beck’s flattery could still make her heart race and her stomach fill with butterflies. As if it were the first time, even though compliments fell from Beck like droplets of rain in a spring shower.

“Well it’s a privilege. And it’s only bestowed on people I think highly of.”

Beck snorted soundlessly. “I can’t imagine there are many of those.”

“Only one, currently. And I’d let her do anything she pleased.” Harper replied. There was a small, suggestive grin on her lips, and a devilish twinkle in her eye.

“Oh?” Both of Beck’s brows raised and the hand holding her needle pressed against her heart as if she were shocked. “Then I guess I have someone to be jealous of, because you certainly don’t let me do whatever I want.”

Again she laughed, and Beck joined in with her. Harper rolled her eyes, her quick tongue failing her, and said lightly. “Shut up.”

“See?! There it is right there. Always bossing me around.” The little witch clicked her tongue in fake disapproval.

“Anything you want to me.” Harper corrected, still grinning so wide that it hurt her cheeks. “The fact that I don’t let you wreak havoc all across the tristate area is not the same.”

Beck held up both her hands in surrender. “Hey, you say potato, I say tomato.”

“That’s-” Harper halted her correction when she saw the look on Beck’s face that suggested her point was about to be proven perfectly. “Absolutely right.”

It was Beck’s turn to roll her eyes, and then she returned her attention to the project in her hands. Harper leaned forward just a little to try and catch a subtle glimpse, and without a word from the necromancer, Beck raised up the stuffed animal to show.

“Essi has decided that she’s infatuated with snails.” She said, shaking her head.

Esteri was a frequent visitor in their home. Harper could remember when she was born how Beck had practically lived at Frankie’s house and brought the infant home with her when her friend needed rest. Midori and Jari had done just the same, and the door to her penthouse had practically revolved for months as the gaggle of friends came and went. Essi had just turned three a short while ago, and she’d grown into a wild-eyed, challenging little girl. Consequently, one of Beck’s favorite hobbies consisted of indulging her every whim and encouraging her to be as difficult as possible. If that meant making a snail to feed her newest fancy, Harper knew that “Aunty Beck” was more than happy to provide.

“It’s not surprising, between you and Dori I don’t know who lets her play in the dirt more.”

“We play in the garden.” Beck corrected.

Harper refused to give ground. “Gardens are mostly dirt.”

“It’s important for witches to know how to plant and grow.” Her playful tone had gotten a little more serious. Not angry, but carrying a thread of absolute belief. “You could use a bit more time in the garden. And the sun for that matter.”

“Alas my love,” She sighed dramatically, “I am a creature of the night.”

Something soft bounced off her nose and fell into her lap. It was the snail. It’s stupid, smiling face laughing up at her.

“Are you throwing things at me now?” She teased, “Do you really want to start this with me?”

“You’re the one who said I could do whatever I wanted to you.” Beck wasn’t even bothering to contain her wolfish grin.

“You. Not this creature you’ve created. I can’t take an attack like this sitting down. I have a reputation to uphold.” She stood up, stuffed animal clenched in her hand, and slowly walked toward the fire place.

“Don’t you dare!” Beck squealed. They both knew it was an empty threat, that Harper would never disrespect the woman she loved so brazenly, but Beck threw the blankets off her lap and scrambled to her feet in a flash. Harper held the stuffed creature high above her head as Beck latched onto her.

There was a flush of heat that certainly didn’t come from any fire as their bodies pressed together. Beck was all soft curves over surprisingly strong muscles and blue eyes that glittered in the flames.

“Give me that back!” She demanded, trying to sound stern and reaching hopelessly for the toy. The pair stumbled and fell against a wall. When it shook a cascade of lavender petals and thyme leaves peppered them like confetti.

The necromancer curled one of her legs behind her lover’s and held up the animal higher. “I never knew you had this kind of rage inside of you. You know maybe you should go to therapy.”

“I never knew you were so annoyi-OH” Harper swept them both to the side, and Beck only managed to stay upright because she was being held against her so tightly. The little witch huffed, her cheeks flushing. “Oh I’m going to knock you over the side of the head so hard it smarts for a month!”

“See! There it is again! That rage!” Harper teased, merciless. A little childish, even. “Beck it’s me! Please, remember you loved me once.”

“You’re too rotten for loving. You give me that toy right now!”

Harper was shaking with laughter, her free hand wrapped around Beck’s waist as she strained. Beck was laughing too, intermittently. Every few seconds her angry façade would break just long enough for a smile and a chuckle that made her quiver against her.

“Why are you so godsdamned tall?! Was your mother a giant?” Beck’s hand had a hold on her wrist and her nails were just barely scratching the skin that ignited a dangerous excitement in Harper.

“A troll, actually. It’s a wonder I turned out so pretty.” Harper carefully guided them through the room backing them into the perfect position. When her hand was at just the right height, she felt the toy roughly ripped away from her, and the enormous black feline leaped over the both of them with it in her mouth, and (likely sensing what was about to happen) ran out into the hall.

"They say the devil has a pretty face---and Angrboda you’re giving that back!” The smaller witch tried to twist to look at her familiar, but Harper had pulled her tight against her body. Now with her other hand free she tilted up her lover’s chin and kissed her softly, the both of them still intermittently giggling.

They turned again, fingers tangled in one another’s hair, lips locked, the air between them dissolving until her lungs burned but still neither of them pulled away. Not until Harper had backed the witch up to the armchair. She gave her lover a rough push and watched her fall back into the seat, panting and grinning in delight.

She placed a knee on either side of Beck and trapped her against the cushions, reveling in the way she shivered. Her head stooped to whisper in the little witch’s ear. “And what would you let the devil do to you?”

Beck's hands were tightly gripping her hips, trying to pull her even closer. She smelled like apples and wildflowers and everything Harper loved in the world. She was everything Harper loved in the world. Perhaps even the only thing she loved in the world of the living.

“I’d let her do anything she wants.” Beck said beneath her, and the record came to a scratchy stop, and all Harper could hear was the crackle of the fire and the door slamming shut behind them.

#drabbles #my drabbles #i love them so much tho omgggggg

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hatsukeii · 4 years

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Hiii do you have any relationship Hc's for goshiki

Hmmm this is gonna take a bit, but I have some ideas in mind:D

Our weird bowl cut boy lol

He’s gonna be Shiratorizawa’s ace... someday.

I’m gonna split this to two parts, because I write long hcs and I wanna write out how you guys dealt with your feelings before actually dating.

👾Goshiki👾

✨Confession✨

- Really clueless at first.

- By really clueless I mean REALLY CLUELESS.

- When you joined the volleyball team as manager, he definitely tried to talk big, trying to give you a good impression of who is and why you “shouldn’t mess with him.”

- He refused to get close to you, despite your efforts in trying to get him to loosen up.

- “You’re just gonna be a distraction.”

- “I’m here to beat Ushijima and become the ace of Shiratorizawa, not make friends.”

- Ah yes, the typical no bullshit shounen anime protagonist that ends up somehow becoming the little brother of the team.

- And also ends up as a tiny crush for a certain someone.

- You don’t really know when you started noticing him that much. He was kinda just... there.

- But alas, seeing how determined he is to get to the top? Mad respect.

- Maybe with time that respect slowly became admiration and attraction.

- You wanna know how determined he is? Think Kageyama, but times ten.

- This bitch waits for everyone to leave the gym after practise, then continues to train his ass off for hours. I’m talking 4-5 extra hours of training.

- You only know this because you stay behind in the gym to clean up the equipment, and he doesn’t leave the gym when you do, which is about an hour or two after practice ends.

- Whenever you ask him when he’s leaving, he just waves you off halfheartedly, usually muttering a casual “I’ll be leaving soon, don’t worry.”

- And if you think that’s it? Oh nononono.

- There has been one instance where you saw him passed out.

- Like Goshiki trained so hard he just blacked out due to exhaustion.

- How you found him?

- Well,

- Your dumbass left your textbooks in the gym, so you had to go back and retrieve it.

- It was like what, 8 in the evening, but the lights and air conditioning were still on.

- You were already weirded out, so you decided to be extra careful. You know how high schoolers are these days, who knows what they’re doing behind closed doors sometimes.

- You creak the doors open just a bit, taking a peep.

- And your eyes land on a motionless Goshiki just laying on the gym floor.

- That scene scared the shit out of you.

- You checked his pulse, and his breathing. To your relief, his pulse was still there, although it wasn’t as strong as it should be. However, his breathing was definitely shallower than usual.

- Thank god for that emergency treatment course you enrolled for last year. You knew how to treat Goshiki almost immediately, raising his legs and keeping them up with a stool you found. What you didn’t expect, was for him to not wake up even after 5 whole minutes of you checking on him.

- That time you literally called an ambulance.

- Needless to say you definitely scolded him when he woke up, before forcing him to eat and drink something.

- Turns out for the past months or so, he’s been training for an extra 4-5 hours a day, without enough food or water to replenish himself.

- It would be about 9-10pm when he got home, where he had to finish his homework and finally get some food in his system, mostly leftovers. When he’s done with homework, it would be around 1am, which would be when he actually cleans up and hauls his ass to bed.

- He has to wake up at 5am for morning practise.

- You were about to punch him when he told the doctor all that.

- Since that worrying experience, you’ve forced Goshiki to leave the gym after a maximum of two hours.

- You walked him to the bus station after every single practise, just to make sure he doesn’t pass out.

- (And also to stare at him while he listens to music and tosses the ball occasionally, but he doesn’t need to know that.)

- Goshiki honestly appreciates the walks to the bus stop and the casual conversations you guys can hold.

- And to be honest, he was pretty surprised you’d actually go along with what you said in the hospital and “Walk him home every single day until he’s done with volleyball in highschool.”

- These days you patiently wait for him to finish his extra practise, and set an alarm for 2 hours. Once those 2 hours are up, you’re dragging his ass out of the gym with his stuff all packed neatly. No buts, nope, don’t wanna hear it.

- Maybe it was the determination you had to make sure he was safe and healthy, or the dumb conversations you had every single day about mermaids getting laid and unicorns getting horny.

- Because with time, Goshiki eventually succumbed to his feelings and admitted to himself.

- He had fallen for you. Hard.

- And there was nothing he could do about it.

- Except,

- Avoid you as much as he could.

- Poor little Goshiki was so clueless that he thought avoiding you would eventually cause his feelings to just disappear like how my dad went to get the milk.

- Whenever he saw you in the hallways, he’d just blush and walk the other way, even if it was the opposite direction of where he was supposed to be going.

- Nope, no fist bump, hi five, nothing.

- Alas, he couldn’t avoid you much anyways, since you were the manager for the volleyball team, and you also persisted on walking him to the bus stop every single god damned day.

- All he could do was try and muster up the driest possible responses to anything you said.

- “So, how was practice? You feeling anywhere near as powerful as Ushiwaka yet?”

- “Eh, it was okay.”

- “You want something to eat or drink? We can go to that boba store around the corner from last week and get something.”

- “Nah, I’m good.”

- You were weirded out, to say the least.

- Since when did Goshiki pass on boba?

- “Oi, Tsutomu, are you feeling okay? You’re acting a bit odd.”

- You raised your hand to his forehead, feeling the warmth on your palm as Goshiki flared 50 different shades of red.

- “U-uh, my stop’s there, I’ll see you tomorrow bye-” he rambled, stuttering over his words before zooming towards the wrong station.

- “What just happened?”

- All Goshiki could do was get home as quick as possible, finish all his work, eat up, clean himself, and just scream into his pillow.

- “I’ve been avoiding her for so long, why is she still stuck in there?”

- He was being so blatantly obvious with avoiding you that the volleyball team eventually had to speak up.

- That went terribly.

- “Goshiki, why aren’t you focusing these days? Is there something troubling you?” -Shirabu

- “Plus, you haven’t even spared a glance at y/n, let alone talked to her. Aren’t you guys like best friends?” -Tendou

- “Goshiki do you like her?” -Ushijima

- Goshiki almost choked on his water.

- No, not almost. He definitely choked on his water.

- “What? ME? PLEASE! OF COURSE NOT!” -Goshiki, in denial, blushing

- “Seems like you do to us.” -Ushijima, as blunt as usual

- “Well then, you should’ve just told me Goshiki. I never knew you disliked me.”

- Oh shi-

- Well isn’t it convenient? You were standing right there with volleyballs in hand when he decided to belt out that statement.

- For the next few weeks, you both avoided each other as much as you can. You even stopped walking him to the bus stop.

- Until the day before their match against Karasuno.

- At this point, Goshiki had had enough.

- This was troubling him to an extent already, and he also had the match to worry about.

- At the end of practice, he waited until all the members of the team (especially Tendou) left the gym, before harshly pulling you into the storage room, pulling you down to sit next to him on the floor.

- “What do you want Goshiki-”

- “I like you. That’s it.”

- What the hell.

- Your mouth hung open, you face and neck feeling hot, as he made his way back into the gym, practising yet again. All you could do was sit in the storage room, still not comprehending what had just happened.

- Not knowing how to deal with this, you grabbed your stuff, and made your way home as quick as you can, not wanting to deal with the situation at hand yet. You flop onto your bed once you reach your room, and scream into the pillow out of frustration.

- “Why did I do that? That was my chance, I blew it! I’m so stupid oh my god.”

- Goshiki was also being extra aggressive with the volleyballs too. By the time he had finished his extra practise, his palms were scathed and sore, red marks scattered all over.

- During the match agaisnt Karasuno, he was extra nervous, not wanting to screw up.

- But at the same time, the events of yesterday replayed in his mind like a broken record. The way you stared at him in shock, not even making a sound. How you left the gym as quick as it happened, not sparing even a glance at him. It made him regret ever befriending you in the first place. He should’ve known that this was bound to happen.

- This led to him being extra aggressive during the match. Both teams were shocked and quite frankly, a bit intimidated too.

- Goshiki was fueled by all his pent up rage against himself, a seemingly dark aura radiating off of him on the court. He was stupid. An absolute imbecile. A moron. An idiot that put his heart on his sleeve, not once thinking about the consequences it could bring.

- When coach Washijo decided to scream “if you’re gonna stare, at least stare at a damn girl” at him, he sneered so hard at him his face was about to become permanently contorted. Even his own coach, the spawn of satan, was taken aback.

- The fact that Shiratorizawa ended up losing did not help. At all. All that did was make his day even shittier.

- Until you finally told him you reciprocated his feelings.

- Not long after the loss, the team all went their own way home, feeling miserable about the game.

- Goshiki had his earphones in, walking towards the bus station, head hung low as he silently sobbed, feeling like absolute shit.

- You caught up to him, before basically engulfing him in a huge hug from behind, nuzzling your head into his shoulder, refusing to let go.

- He was flustered, to say the least. Frozen in place, tears continued to stream down his face in steady streaks.

- “I’m sorry for your loss today, and for yesterday too.”

- His eyes widened at your apology as he furiously wiped the hot tears, his eyes still slightly puffy and his nose still red.

- At this moment, Goshiki needed someone. Desperately. In one swift motion, he had turned around and held you with an iron grip, a hand pushing your head into his chest, his back hunched with his head in the crook of your neck as he cried, this time letting the sobs and whimpers become audible. His salty tears met your skin, rolling down to your collarbone.

- “So the reason why you’ve been avoiding me was because you liked me?”

- Goshiki nodded into your neck, still crying.

- “Well I’ve liked you since the start of the school year too, so don’t worry. I’m here for you.”

- Hearing that, he detached himself from your neck, staring at you, surprised at how calm you were and how dense he had been.

- “Wait for real?”

- You were in a hurry, since you promised to run some errands, so you did the first thing that popped into your mind.

- On your tiptoes, you gave his lips a quick peck, before running away, your face completely red.

- “For the record Tsutomu, we’re dating now I guess.”

✨Dating✨

- What a sweetie.

- At first, he’s super secretive with the relationship, not wanting people to find out.

- Especially not his parents. He would have hell personally sent to him in a cute little death package if they ever found out he was dating someone.

- He tried his best not to show any trace of him being in a relationship during practice.

- But alas, Tendou once sneaked up on you two holding hands at school and instantly knew.

- This redhead announced it to the whole team that you two were dating and you almost beat him up.

- Now, he’s opened up a lot more about this than when it first started.

- No, his parents still don’t know about you two.

- But his friends knew not to hit on you, and the volleyball team would constantly tease him when you walked by, making kissy noises and over the top fake moans. Tendou once shoved two balls up his chest just to imitate you. You looked over to see your third year senior with an ahegao face, two volleyballs unevenly shoved into his shirt as he skipped around. You stared in disgust, giving him a slight scowl before turning around and continuing with your shit.

- Needless to say his other balls were absolutely wrecked by Goshiki.

- Will spoil you so badly like damn.

- Occasional gifts from lil bowl cut is something you should definitely expect.

- Sometimes you’ll just randomly find a new pair of earrings or a new phone case on your desk with a note from him, while your classmates stare in awe and lowkey envy you from afar.

- Very, very frequent dates.

- I’m talking like every weekend, and sometimes even after school on friday.

- Dates planned by Goshiki aren’t ever extravagant or anything, but god damn do they make you feel blessed. Usually it’s just to a cute cafe, maybe a carnival, or a movie date.

- Dates planned by you though? Ohohohoho he was in for so much fun. I’m talking trampoline parks, amusement parks, gaming cafes, volleyball dates, all that fun shit.

- You would let him teach you how to play volleyball, and end up laughing your ass off at how incredibly bad you were while he kinda just gives up on teaching you and goofs around.

- Your hands running through his hair is literally the best thing he has ever felt no cap.

- Likes to cup your cheeks a lot, just to make you flustered.

- (Secretly loves it so much when he’s able to make you all blushy because oh my god you look so cute.)

- You’re not allowed to sleepover at his, nor is he allowed to sleepover at yours because strict parents!

- The rare times when your parents allow you to go “help your friend Goshiki study,” you guys actually do serious studying.

- Then right after that comes the cuddling.

- Okay let’s be real, Goshiki would probably be really awkward at the start.

- He’d probably try make sure you were comfortable, so his body would be twisted into some weird position.

- But he eventually found his favourite way to cuddle with you, in a way where both of you could just lay in peace comfortably without breaking your backs.

- Most times, he would lie sideways on his bed facing you. He’d snake one hand around your lower back, the other to your head as he pulls you in close, resting you against his chest. You could hear his heartbeat, which sped up every time you nuzzled against him.

- Cute.

- Will give you pecks on the lips every single morning when he first sees you, wherever he is.

- It do not matter to him how many people are watching, he do not care. At all.

- Holds your hand e v e r y w h e r e .

- He’s also very fond of forehead kisses.

- He just finds them so heartwarming and intimate in a non sexual way.

- Every time something was bothering you, or you were just breaking down because of how shitty life was, he knows exactly what to do.

- He’d pull you into a tight hug, kissing the top of your head while drawing circles on your back with his fingers.

- If it was worse and you were crying, he likes to wipe your tears for you, kissing the stains on your cheeks, before planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

- Loves it when you wear his hoodies.

- They’re oversized on you and oh my god sweater paws are the death of him.

- You’re honestly relieved he’s not looking for anything sexual.

- He’s too pure for that shit, keep his innocence.

- You made a promise to cheer for him wearing his jersey whenever he played in matches, and you’ve never broken it.

- PDA.

- SO MUCH PDA.

- This boy. He loves showing you off to his teammates so much.

- “I may not be as good as Ushijima at volleyball yet, but at least I’m not a crusty single bitch.” -Goshiki to some rando that insulted his skills and personality

- “You guys go look for your own plus ones to the school dance, I’m keeping y/n.” -Goshiki to his friends

- “Stop imitating her Tendou-san, it’s insulting to her. You’re too odd to get even close to imitating her accurately.” -Goshiki to Tendou who had volleyballs in his shirt and pants

- Please just protect him at all costs, he’s so precious.

Love how the request was for relationship hcs and I ended up writing more backstory lmaoo

Still hope you liked it though I worked on this for days xx🥺🥰

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #hq headcanons #hq hcs #shiratorizawa #karasuno #goshiki tsutomu #haikyuu goshiki #hq goshiki #goshiki x reader #ushijima #tendou #volleyball #hq x reader

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sameteeth · 4 years

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NOT to be found family on main BUT pls consider.. lucy adopting/parenting the lost boys after max gets killed

the boys all survive, albiet with injuries that take a while to heal bc they were all injured w Vampire Killing Intent. theyre all laying around in the hotel when lucy marches in, first aid kit in hand and sam being dragged reluctantly w her. micheal tags along too. lucy is horrified at the messy ass cave but doesnt clean bc she knows its not Her Space, its the boys and she respects their privacy/independence.

marko is doing the worst, since the boys could only give him rudimentary first aid before rushing off to attack micheal/the frog bros. he’s feverish and delirious and thinks lucy is his mom. she cradles his cheek and pets his hair as she patches up his chest (marko is trans and lucy is like Hell Yeah Another Trans Son). the stake missed his heart but his lungs are fucked now bc getting stabbed as a vamp is Not Great.

dwayne is next- he’s got a big scar on his back and nerve damage from the electrocution. maybe some cool lightening scars once he heals up. he has more trouble w memory now bc yknow. brain damage. lots of flashing can possibly trigger seizures for him, and he has issues with movement disorder type things- tics, uncontrollable shaking, etc.

paul is just absolutely covered in burns, and his hair is falling out in chunks bc his skin is peeling off. think acid burns? his skin gets a little melty and he’s got some bad scarring, esp in his face once he heals. he takes the longest to heal just because he can’t do much of anything without tearing his skin up bc its super delicate as it grows back. its a very frustrating process. hes normally a cheery dude but he kinda falls into a funk trying to recover.

david is similar to marko in his injuries. he’s got some lung issues afterwards but he mostly heals ok. he’s more guarded around lucy, and he heals quicker bc hes the lead vamp and has been around the longest/is stronger than his brothers.

other than marko who passes out after calling lucy mom and crying a little theyre all REALLY nervous around her, theyre all like dogs baring their teeth when they cant even stand up. but lucy just goes about her business and tries to help them. sam is scared shitless of the vamps but lucy is 100% fearless and has NO issue telling david off for trying to get up when he should be resting. she brings them animal blood (courtesy of the widow johnson) with straws stuck in it like caprisun and sits there holding an actual caprisun and drinking it with them. she plays pauls records when he asks but usually picks stuff she recognizes as opposed to newer music that sam and micheal like. dwayne finds it kinda nice, bc she likes groovier/more chill music rather than super harsh or fast music. micheal apologizes to david and david apologizes (sort of) to micheal. david is a very prideful dude after all, but he does genuinely feel bad for ruining the emerson’s house/lives because his crazy ass “dad” wanted a make-believe family.

and just bc i hate max- he turned david against his will after seeing him as a kid and thinking “hm id love to be a father but alas i am a vampire, guess i will stalk this abused child until he is adult-ish age and take him as my own!”. no one gave a shit when max took david since his family sucked. david was basically an impromptu parent for a ton of neighborhood kids and his siblings bc his parents were shit and didnt care about him- it was more of an image thing anyways. so he has all the Big Brother instincts but was forced to grow up too young and has trouble cutting loose bc of this. (ill get into this in a later post maybe?). anyways max took all the lost boys in against their wills/without their consent, which is why david doesnt ask micheal to join, he just gets him to drink the blood. which i always thought was fucked up anyways. david only knows vampires who were forced to turn (him and all the lost boys).

meanwhile star takes some time to recover away from the boys and regains her humanity a bit- she does love their little family, cobbled together out of a lot of desperation and a lot of love, but she needs some time away to think things over now that she knows it wasnt david who was holding her there, it was max. laddie is super worried about his big bros and goes completely nonverbal (normally he is semiverbal). star is worried about him and convinces lucy to take him to see the boys after the more gorey wounds have healed, bc although laddie has Seen Some Shit he is also a Literal Child and doesn’t deserve to be exposed to that. and now that he has a Genuine Adult who isnt a weird vampire looking after him, lucy can make sure he gets looked after and treated like a child. bc although the lost boys did their best, none of them are really Parents.

lucy backs off once the boys are more healed, but they end up spending a lot of time at the emerson’s anyways!! they help rebuild the house and clean up, since the plumbing got fuckin destroyed and the house is kind of missing a wall. grandpa is annoyed abt it but he puts the boys to work(at night ofc), since he’s crotchety but he’s also noticed that the missing/murdered people usually arent good people. paul loves to bake with lucy and dwayne loves to cook/try new recipes for people who will appreciate a fancy meal (hes secretly grandpas fav for the food only). paul also loves to bond w lucy over music and actually gets on well with sam- he’s got a slacker middle child vibe that sam warms up to eventually and they become super tight! marko and sam have a youngest-sibling rivalry (kind of) but it eventually fades from constant bickering into them tag-teaming whining at david or micheal or dwayne for whatever they want this time. micheal and dwayne vibe really well bc dwayne likes to spend quality time w people by sitting with them in silence, doing their own thing, and micheal enjoys just vibing w people since sam is loud and his mom always anxiously fills silence w chatter. nothing against her, but sometimes its a lot for micheal, so he enjoys just sitting with dwayne in silence for hours at a time.

marko realizes maybe 2 months after they recover that he called lucy mom and avoids the house for like a week out of embarrassment, but lucy just smiles and calls him her crafty animal son and pats his stupid mullet. he loves to bring her animals, especially birds since she has some experience keeping birds. they dont keep the wild animals but lucy does notice that more wildlife seems to come around the house now that the lost boys are visiting. sam and david have the funniest relationship bc sam is like “fuck you i fucking hate you” and david is like “my friends little brother foams like a rabid chihuahua when i come over pls help”. sam wont be rude to david bc lucy said be nice but he will also not Interact Unless Necessary so like. david will be like “hey! champ..! how was... school!” bc hes trying to be fucking nice but he hasnt interacted with childrne other than laddie in Years and sam will be like “good.” and they just fucking stare at each other while dwayne does ollies in the background until marko and paul roll in with scissors and bleach like “WHO WANTS A MAKEOVER MICHEAL ALREADY GOT ONE” and micheal is chasing them with tinfoil in his hair with a stuffed woodchuck in his hands ready to murder

#the lost boys #the king writes meta #is this meta?? idk but damn i sure wrote it! hopefully i can figure out how to do an under the cut thingy bc this is long as FUCK #anyways autism brain go brrrrrrrr #gore tw #medical tw #injury tw #death mention #written gore #im tagging just to be safe but its all under the cut #ask to tag if needed

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gwilymay · 5 years

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beer bottle blues ➳ (one-sided Brian May x OC)

❅ a "spin the bottle" au of @benhaardy 's "pretty girl" fic - Iris is not my OC!

warnings: one or two instances of swearing, suggestive language, smoking and drinking (lol idk)

word count: 1.7k

A/N: I was reading my old fics trying to get ideas and I as I read the last thing I wrote about a year ago, it reminded me a lot of my friend's (tagged above) fic. so to start out writing again, I decided to kinda rewrite the older fic into this newer one as an au of her fic. I mostly wrote this at 1am and I barely edited - enjoy, hopefully it doesn't suck too bad... the title is already bad lmaooo

also, if you don't know who the oc is, her bg, etc., it won't matter too much but if you want to read more of her go to the tagged user above!

→

“Thank you,” Deacy finished his speech with a raise of his glass. He smiled and motioned to Brian, who was due to read next. “And now, if you’ll have Brian May continue on telling you another part of the story.”

Everyone clapped and cheered loudly. Brian took the mic from Deacy and waved to the guests. “Uh, good evening!” He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. He caught Iris’s eye, then Roger’s, and as the memories flooded into his thoughts, the words left his tongue.

⇜

“Ok darlings, we leave tomorrow! Let’s make the most out of now, shall we?” Freddie exclaimed, his band mates filing in through the door.

“I don't even get why you have to leave. Why not just record back at the old studio?” Iris asked Brian as they walked into the living room. They sat on the couch, and Brian took his hands in hers. “I’m sorry, love. Our deal with that studio ended, and besides, Freddie wants time away for some ‘inner peace’.” He squeezed her hands. “Don't worry - Mary will keep you company. You’ll both be missing our kisses, I’m sure,” he joked.

Iris gave a sad smile. “It's just… I’ll miss you so much.” Brian knew she was sincere, but for a second, she glanced at Roger, and her eyes betrayed her deeper thoughts.

Of course.

Before Brian could comfort her, to prove that he was better than Roger, that he could be everything she ever wanted, Romeo jumped up and nuzzled Iris, who smiled and lovingly stroked his fur, letting go of Brian’s hands. Brian internally sighed. It seemed as if, as hard as he tried, he could never replace Roger for Iris.

He leaned back into the couch, silently contemplating. Deacy ventured into the kitchen and returned with an unopened beer bottle, which Freddie grabbed and downed in a second. After thanking a confused Deacy, Freddie clapped his hands together and sat down elegantly on the floor, placing the bottle down in the middle of the rug. “Come, sit with me, my darlings!” Everyone followed, Iris being last. Brian held her hand - he knew she was worried. Iris just stared at nothing in particular, a blank expression on her face. Brian gently squeezed her hand again, snapping her out of her haze. She looked up at him and smiled, but he could tell something was wrong. She wasn't usually like this - the Iris he knew years ago was loud, sarcastic, badass. The Iris now… she was quiet and sad, and always lost in thought. Whenever she was asked if something was up, she’d dismiss it and say she was “just tired.

But he knew it was probably about Roger.

Brian couldn’t forget about their past feelings for each other - none of their friends could. Roger made her laugh and cry, made her love her life then hate herself again and again. Brian even thought she still loved him.

Iris leaned her head on his shoulder, and Brian made himself push his thoughts away. He had to be strong, even when she wasn't. For Iris. For them.

“Everyone ready?” Freddie asked. “Ok, who wants to go first?”

Deacy raised his hand. “Um, what exactly are we doing?” Freddie looked at him with his “are-you-serious” expression on his face. “What a stupid question. What does it look like?”

Everyone blinked. Freddie sighed. “It’s spin the bottle, you pricks, and whoever you spin on has to spend seven minutes in a room with you. Now I’m asking, who wants to go first?”

No one moved. Roger looked around the circle, and when he saw that no one else volunteered, of course, he did.

“Calm down Rog, the girls here aren't for you,” Freddie joked, to which Roger rolled his eyes at, “but maybe you can teach Deacy a thing or two.”

Avoiding a swat from Deacy, a grinning Freddie passed the bottle to a glaring Roger, who rubbed his hands together before he spun it. He took one last glance at the whole group, then twisted his hand to spin the bottle.

Brian looked at Iris, who was biting her lip in worry. To her relief, it didn’t land on her.

It landed on Brian.

“Shit,” Brian whispered.

Roger looked up at him, wide-eyed. Mary pursed her lips, trying not to laugh. Freddie jokingly winked at Brian, reached over behind Mary, and slapped Roger on the back, grinning. Deacy just smiled and shook his head. “At least it wasn't me!”

Freddie led the two men to the closet under the stairs and slammed the door shut. Once the door clicked closed, everyone burst into laughter.

“Well…” Roger said awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets. Thankfully, though, the closet was a large storage closet that didn’t have much stuff in it. Roger backed up to make more room for the tall Brian, and they both sat on the floor.

“So how’s it been?” Roger asked him, his usual cool expression back on his face. Brian didn't know what to say. He wanted to hate Roger, for causing Iris so much pain, for being so perfect that Iris couldn't give anyone else as much love as she had given him. But alas, there they were, forced to talk in Freddie’s stupid closet for seven whole minutes.

“Brian? You there, mate?” Roger waved a hand in front of Brian’s face to get his attention.

“Oh, uh, sorry.” Brian cleared his thoughts again. “It’s been ok. Iris and I are going to be seperated, with our recording of the new album, though, so that’s a bummer.”

“Aww, you’ll be fine,” Roger exclaimed, patting Brian’s back, his hand lingering there for a moment before coming back down to pull a cigarette out of his pocket. He lit it, placing the other end between his teeth. He leaned back on the wall, chin tilted slightly up as he took a drag. Brian just sat there. “Um… what about you?”

Roger just smiled, small and sly. “Nothing interesting, maybe a few fun nights here and there but other than that, no.” He took another drag.

Brian smiled but shook his head. “Same old Roger,” he teased. He looked back at Roger, whose expression changed. Suddenly Brian regretted what he said. “Sorry. It’s your life. I shouldn't have-” Roger held up his hand, silencing Brian.

To his surprise, Roger wasn't angry. Instead, he had a sad smile on his face, similar to Iris’s earlier. “It’s ok. I know the rest of you think of me that way. And, well you're not wrong.” He let out a long sigh, smoke escaping from his lips. Hesitantly, he continued, “Ever since I broke up with Iris, I’d had nothing. No one. So, I went back to my old habits. Girls, parties, smoking, buncha shit like that.

“I missed her like hell - if I’m being honest, I still do. God, I care for her a lot… A-and I know you’re with her,” he quickly added. “You probably think I hate you, for dating my ex.”

Surprised, Brian started to talk, but Roger shushed him once more. “But… I chose to let her go. I let her go because I knew I couldn't be good for her. I know she hates me. But she’s better off now, right? She’s with you. You're a much better partner for her, someone more reliable, trustworthy, loyal… and I’m glad it was you she decided to love again. So, um, thank you. Take care of her for me. Promise.”

Roger looked up at Brian, with so much sincerity in his eyes that Brian realized he couldn't hate him. He just wanted what was best for Iris. They both did.

Brian opened his mouth to say something, to tell him thank you, that yes, he would take care of Iris, but the door burst open and Freddie walked in. “Alright darlings, it’s been seven minutes!”

Roger got up first, smoothing down his shirt as if the last seven minutes didn't happen. Brian absentmindedly followed suit, lost in thought. During the questionably long walk through Freddie’s house from the closet to the living room, Brian tried to make sense of what Roger had told him. Was it true? Or was Roger just messing with him? Is he really that big of an asshole? To admit that he still cared for his ex, but also made Brian promise to take care for her instead of him, made Brian feel even more guilty for hating Roger.

Then as quickly as he processed everything, they were back in the living room.

Brian’s eyes immediately darted to Iris, who was staring at something behind him.

It was, of course, Roger.

Trying to forget everything running through his head, Brian sat down next to Iris. He managed to whisper a “Hey, love,” before Freddie’s voice filled the room once more, picking Deacy as the bottle’s next victim.

As Deacy span the bottle, Brian looked back at Roger, who was also looking at Iris, pain visible in his eyes. Suddenly, Roger looked up at Brian, and after a long, seeming endless sad gaze, looked back down at the bottle.

And Brian knew what he had to do.

⇝

Brian snapped back to the present. He felt painful tears in his eyes, but blinked them away quickly as he told the audience about the party and how Iris and Roger fell in love again after years of being apart, not even mentioning his history with Iris.

Because he didn’t want them to know the truth. An important turn in their lives - maybe even the most important - that led to everything that happened after that party. As he finished, handed Freddie the mic, and sat down, he decided to reflect on what really happened.

⇜

Not knowing that Brian was observing her, Iris kept glancing at Roger fricken Taylor, the person who captured and broke Iris’s heart, leaving Brian with small remnants of what was once there.

She still loved him. He could see it in her eyes. She looked like a teenager again. Iris Marchesi, the broken girl whose first love left her behind. Iris Marchesi, whose feelings never faded away.

And neither did Roger’s.

And that’s something Roger would have to tell her himself.

But for that to happen, Brian would have to let go of Iris.

And because he loved her, more than she would ever love him, he did.

He let her go.

←

A/N: yikes um i'm sorry if this sucked and barely had a plot pls don’t bully me

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fox-and-benedict · 6 years

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[Fanfic, 100% Orange Juice] The Fanservice Episode, Frankly

Series: 100% OJ / Suguri Words: 3855 Characters: Suguri, Hime, Kae, Nanako Originally posted: February 27, 2017 (blogspot version) A/N: I remember being proud of this when I wrote it; I’m usually better at short stuff, to the extent that longer chapters sap my energy a lot. (A little better at it nowadays, I guess...) Of course, nobody read it. I took the title from a Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid episode. Somewhat risque, and with a hurried ending.

Suguri was not, particularly, a fan of the ocean. The raw power of her body was enough to dissuade concerns about breathing, and even the thousands of atmospheres worth of pressure to a certain extent, but she was all too aware that in the Great War, humanity had been rather more focused on how to litter the sea with mines than with how to get them back out again. Even with her abilities, clean up had been a long, dangerous process, and more still might be lurking in the dark, unknown pockets of the deep. There was no way to know. As a result, she wasn't quite as enthused by the idea of a summer beach trip as Hime had been. There were upsides, of course. The sea breeze was one of Suguri's favourite things; part of her believed that she had been a seagull in her past life. She was also partial to the building and subsequent destruction of elaborate sandcastles, to symbolise the artifices of man returning to the bosom of the ocean. There was, however, an additional factor in Suguri's decision to attend the beach day, although she had every intention of denying it when it inevitably came up. A week prior she had spotted Hime sneaking into the house in the earlier hours, armed with a two-piece bikini that was a shade below scandalous but still firmly in the daring category. She hadn't been able to get a good look at it, but she was fairly sure it was frilly, and a Hime with frills was relevant to her interests to say the least. Also relevant to Suguri's interests, in no particular order, were: Hime running barefoot along the sands and giggling; Hime standing waist-deep in the ocean with sunlit golden hair and her beautiful wings reflected against the rolling waves; and hitting watermelons with sticks. (Some pleasures were too simple to be denied). Upon reaching the beach, the pair had retired to the changing rooms, and Suguri had shrugged on her own swimsuit. It wasn't too flattering, although it wasn't as though she had much to flatter; Suguri was built for speed, with lean, defined muscles in her shoulders and her back. Her long hair did, however, mean she could get away with a halter top without anybody staring too much, and all she needed after that was a pair of shorts. Shorts, mercifully, were easy to shop for; usually, shopping for swimwear ranked at number six in the top ten list of Suguri's Biggest Waking Nightmares. She just had very defined tastes, and nobody seemed to appreciate grey swimsuits with a single stripe on them as much as she did. Having changed much faster than Hime (as usual), Suguri looked out at the fine, pale sands and resolved that before the day was over, she would achieve her life's ambition of making a sand castle that she could fit inside. But the day was long, and she was fast; there would be time for castle-building later. Now was the time of garishly striped towels and beach umbrellas that consistently threatened to fall over, and she wasted no time in installing hers in the middle of the beach. By the time the others arrived, Suguri had already acquired flip flops, novelty sunglasses and the beginnings of a tan, and was busy lying face down on her beach towel like a fried egg with a grey, fluffy yolk. “Hey, shortie. You didn't bring your luggage with you?” Suguri tilted her head upwards and saw Nanako, who was hefting a beach bag almost as big as she was. As always, she seemed a touch bitter; Suguri sometimes had problems getting along with her, although Hime was of the opinion that Nana just enjoyed grousing as a way to vent stress, “Ah, you've arrived. If by 'luggage' you meant Hime, she's still changing,” Suguri replied peacefully, looking Nana up and down. The diminutive soldier had gone for a violet one-piece that was more cute than it was dignified, although Suguri guessed that there weren't that many alluring outfits available for somebody of Nanako's size. Some impish part of her decided to push that button a little. “...I was sure you'd be wearing a school swimsuit, though.” “I don't care what you idiots say. I'm not in ninth grade! I am a professional soldier with a number of completed campaigns –” “And a record of losing to me in sword fights.” “– and a record of losing to you in sword fights because you cheat by having such long arms –” “I can't control how long my arms are.” “I can't control how tall I am! I looked everywhere for a nice, mature-looking swimsuit but I got landed with this frilly, cutesy mess while Kae, Kae looks like she's trying to dam the Victoria Falls with a picket fence, just spilling out everywhere and argh!” Nanako threw herself on the sand in frustration, before rolling over and affixing Suguri with a dangerous, steely glare. “You and me, we should form an alliance. Did you know that being short used to make you a sex symbol? It's true! I dug out some old music from before that stupid war you guys had, and all they ever sing about is shorties. 'Shortie, you so hot! Shortie, get low! Shortie got me spending the benjamins!' All stuff like that. We could rule together.” Suguri arranged her face into a peaceful, innocent smile. “I'll form an alliance with you. But you have to accept me as the leader.” “...What would your first order be?” Nanako asked, eyes narrowing. “To go and explain to Kae why, in detail, you've been staring at her chest for long enough to construct similes about it.” “Tch. No dice,” the girl said, and rolled over to face the other way. “I hate arguing with you. It always makes me so tired. I just wanna sit down and relax afterwards.” Suguri sighed, and very gently patted Nanako on the head, expecting her to jerk her head away at any moment. Her hair was surprisingly soft and healthy; evidently she took good care of it. “...Your swimsuit doesn't look awful. Tell me where you got it next time,” Nana said after a while. “Yes, yes.” Perhaps, in an alternative world, the moment would have continued. The sounds of the waves against the shores, of seagulls chattering overhead, would have lulled Nanako into an easy sleep. She would have awoken hours later, sunburnt on the side of her that was peeking out from Suguri's lopsided beach umbrella, and her absolute incandescent rage would have been mollified by memories of Suguri gently fussing with her hair. Alas, this would have had to been an alternative world where Kae did not exist and was not the greatest source of noise on the beach. She charged along, a beach umbrella under one arm, kicking up a stream of flying sand with her footsteps, yelling at the top of her voice – and the top of her voice was taller than some mountains. Suguri took a glance in her direction and immediately regretted it; Nanako had not been joking when she talked about spillage. She looked just long enough to feel vaguely jealous before turning away, which was just as well, because the next thing Kae did was launch herself through the air in a beautiful parabolic arc toward their location. She hit with the force of a small explosive, planting her beach umbrella into the ground like a sword and distributing a fine layer of sand over the face and body of every person in a 100 metre radius. “Safe!” the redhead yelled, flashing a peace signal to her two friends. Suguri, drawing on over 10,000 years of life experience, had wisely made the decision to close her eyes and mouth. Nanako had not, and was in the delicate process of trying to make death threats while excavating roughly a tenth of the beach from her lungs. She was having little success with either, but this made no difference to Kae, who had already thrown herself at Suguri for a full-body hug. After a relatively minor but confusing scuffle, they came to a rest with Kae's warm cheek pressed gently against Suguri's navel. “Ahahahaha! It's been so long since I saw you, Sugi! What are you doing lying around? You should be playing volleyball! Summer is all about friendly competition!” Suguri had come to two conclusions, neither of which was about volleyball. The first was that Kae was part puppy, and had to express that by nuzzling people to death. The second was that Kae's swimsuit had more in common with a coat of paint on a car than with an actual piece of fabric designed for human beings. Bravely extricating herself from Kae's embrace, Suguri put on her responsible adult voice. “Ah... I think if we played volleyball, one of us would have a malfunction.” Kae gave a thumbs up. She often gestured as she spoke, with enough ferocity to put any angry waiter to shame. “Don't worry, don't worry! This body was built to last!” “I'll play volleyball with you, Kae,” Nanako seethed, her eyes flashing pure murderous intent. “But I get to use my bits as well, since you're so tall, and, and, buxom. And if I win, you have to be quiet for one hour for every point I won by.” “Uuuu... That doesn't seem fair. But I don't ever see Nana this fired up. What to do...? Aha! I know! If I win, I get to dress Nana up however I want for the rest of the day!” Both girls looked at Suguri, who sighed and nodded. “Alright. I've witnessed the conditions of the bet. Play fair, you two. Or mostly fair, anyway.” Almost before she had finished speaking the two were away, trading verbal jabs and actual lasers with impunity. Suguri watched them become dots in the sky, and wondered how exactly they intended to play volleyball without a net. It didn't matter, she supposed; Nanako was spoiling for a fight more than anything, and Kae would be more than willing to give her one. “Oh, my. Are those two at it already? I don't know if they get along badly or a bit too well,” a voice remarked from behind Suguri's shoulder. It was warm, cheerful, as clear as song. Hime. “I'm also disappointed in you, Suguri. I look away for mere moments and another woman has captured your belly-button for herself.” Suguri tilted her head back to take a long, upside-down look at Hime and her swimsuit. There were ruffles. There was a black and gold high neck bikini top and a black sarong cut just low enough to show the delicate lines leading down from the hips. There was a dry smile on Hime's face which probably meant Suguri was being a little too obvious. “Aha. Well, you were changing for quite a while,” she said, clearing her throat. “True enough. No matter. I shall just have to win back your heart with delicious ice cream,” Hime replied, leaning down to hand Suguri a scoop. Had she been carrying ice cream cones, Suguri wondered? Her eyes had definitely been elsewhere. “It's a shame that Saki, Iru and Kyoko couldn't make it.” “Mm,” Suguri nodded. Especially since those three were generally much less erratic than Nanako and Kae were. “Well, I was more worried about Nana and Kae in the first place. The others have spread out a little and started to explore, but I don't think those two have found what they really want from this planet yet...” Suguri frowned. This was one of those moments that seemed to demand a sensitive, emotional response, and she didn't have one ready. The words always seemed to elude her, as surely as she eluded bullets and lasers. “We can take care of them for a while longer,” she replied. It wasn't quite the response she had wanted to give, but it was the one she had to settle for. “I suppose I should stop being a mother hen. Speaking of, are you wearing sunscreen?” “Was that why you took so long changing? You were putting on sunscreen?” “Very good! Gold star for Suguri,” Hime said with a grin, and sat down beside her on the sand. “My skin is so pale from being in the spaceship all those years that I have to be careful with it. You didn't answer my question, though.” “I don't really need it. My skin never tans or burns. And I have no intention of leaving this umbrella, anyway.” “Oh, that's ridiculous. I'm sure you'll want to play in the sun at some point. Here, roll over and I'll do your back for you,” Hime said, with an expression of perfect innocence that guaranteed she was up to something. “Don't worry. I can do it myself.” “Oh my, how impressive. How flexible and dexterous you must be!” Hime replied, with a gleam in her eye. “Incidentally, how good are you at rope escape?” Suguri sighed. The answer, of course, was 'not good enough to get out of Binding Chains'. She grunted and rolled over in deference to Hime's passionate advocacy of responsible skincare. With a satisfied giggle, Hime scooted across and sat on her. “Hime? You're sitting on my butt.” “Yes, I'm quite aware.” “Is there any reason?” “You sit on it all the time. It seemed the obvious place.” The logic was flawless, and Suguri couldn't refute it. Instead, she just closed her eyes and appreciated the breeze rolling in from the sea. Hime, meanwhile, busied herself with scooping up armfuls of long, silver hair and moving it away from Suguri's back. “Ooh. Nice definition,” Hime murmured as she began to work damp fingertips around the muscles of Suguri's shoulders. Suguri said nothing, and was trying very hard to think nothing as well; for all her efforts to approximate a plank of wood, she wasn't having much luck. She tried closing her eyes and allowing the sound of the waves to fill her mind. “Hey.” Suguri was surprised to hear her own voice. She hadn't particularly planned to say anything. “Mm?” “Why is this so important to you?” Hime tilted her head a little in thought, but her hands continued to insinuate themselves against Suguri's muscles like the ocean licking at the sands. “Oh, well. A few reasons. It's part of the beach experience, I suppose, to rub sunscreen on somebody's back. Spaceships, in general, are not equipped with beach facilities, and water is a precious resource. We never got sun tans. We never wore swimsuits. Hm... How do I put it? For you, Suguri, this might not be a special occasion, but for me, and for Kae and Nanako as well, it has the taste of a kind of life we were never allowed by circumstance to lead.” “I see.” The sound of the waves seemed to blend with the words and give them a strange, mystical texture. Hime's hands crept down the plains of her back and then returned to her shoulders, in a long, sinuous pattern. “Another reason is that you've been so patient with us, Suguri, and with me in particular. To have had you here to welcome us to this strange, wide-open world has meant more than I can say. Sometimes I just want to spoil you a little in return. This doesn't feel bad, right?” The only response Suguri could conjure was a non-committal but vaguely embarrassed little sound from the back of her throat; Hime met it with a sparkling laugh. “Of course, that's a third reason. You're quite fun to tease, Suguri. You're so very serious all the time, and you always try not to react but do anyway.” “And is that why you tease me so much?” Hime took a moment to to coat her hands with a little more lotion. “Would you prefer a short and fun answer, or a long and serious one?” “Well,” Suguri replied dryly, “Since I'm such a serious person, I'll take the serious answer.” “I thought as much.” Hime's hands had drifted as low as Suguri's waist; her movements were slower, lingering, and her words matched. “I've lived for ten thousand years, Suguri. You know how long that is. But for the vast majority of that time, I've lived in the same, tiny place. The same days, the same faces, endlessly repeating. Oh, Suguri. I used to look at those travellers who we brought to Earth, and I could take apart their faces and say what belonged to their great, great grandfathers, where the family trees had crossed, that kind of thing. In a restricted pool like that, there are only so many genes you can have, you know? Only so many faces, so many combinations.” Suguri said nothing. If there was one thing she was good at, it was that. “Well, at any rate, if you live for too long like that, time starts to... blend together, just a touch. More than a touch. For a long, long while, it felt like I was living the same day over and over. Like time had stopped, for me. Just for me. But then we saw Earth on our horizons, with that horrible man at the helm. The only reason I didn't stop him earlier was because I assumed he would die of old age before he got the chance to do any real damage, but... Anyway. Things started moving again. Now every day is different. There are so many people to meet, with so many faces I've never seen or dreamt of before. This world, this Earth of yours, is constantly spinning. In motion. I feel like that's so important.” “It's your Earth, too. Mm. That feels nice.” Hime was tracing circles with her thumbs across the edges of Suguri's hips; she gave a satisfied little sigh and applied herself to the task with more gusto. “I suppose it is, at that. But, Suguri. Sometimes when I look at you, I feel... I feel like your time stopped somewhere on the way, too. Some days you wake up, and you wear the same face all day. It's... Well, I don't think it's good to do that. And anyway, I'm childish and selfish. I want to see all the different faces you can make, Suguri, not just the one you use all the time. That's why I tease you from time to time. To stop the moments from blending. I'm hoping that one day, I won't even have to tease you; you'll just wake up and smile, and blush, and laugh by yourself instead of keeping that same face.” “And what will you do then?” Suguri asked. Her voice was sleepy. Her body was sleepy. She felt like she was talking in a dream. “Well... I'll probably keep teasing you. But perhaps I won't be joking about it. Your back is done, by the way,” Hime replied, and stood up. “Of course, I could always do your front for you, if you'd like.” Suguri didn't need to look to know that Hime was wearing a devious grin. But she stood up and looked anyway. After all the talk of keeping the same face, she realised that perhaps she hadn't been paying enough attention to Hime's. “If I said yes, would you do it?” Hime blinked, and for a moment a flash of colour spread into her pale cheeks; but it was just for a moment. “You could always take your chances and find out.” “I'll pass.” “Oh, boo. It's rude to raise a lady's hopes and then dash them.” Suguri found, as she had always found, that there were moments in life when it was necessary to trust one's body over one's brain. Decisions could not always be taken with a full set of information on which to base rationale, and anyway, there were sometimes sensations that the brain filtered out of conscious experience but still registered on a smaller level, and those could be as indicative of oncoming danger as any larger portents. She couldn't quite tell what prompted her to move as she did, but in that moment she was absolutely sure that the correct course of action was to launch herself towards Hime, scoop up her friend in her arms, and clear the next six feet of ground as soon as possible. She had cleared the first three feet when Kae and Nanako barrelled out of an empty sky at a speed that beggared belief and crashed into the beach, sending a plume of sand skyward. “One, two, three, four, I win the THUUUMB WAAAAAR!” Kae howled, lifting Nanako into the air by one arm like a referee lifting a boxer's arm in victory. “Hey, hey, Big Sis Hime! Do you think Nana would look better as a punk rocker, or with cat ears?” “Go with whatever your heart tells you, Kae,” Hime said indulgently. “But remember: when it comes to cat ears, proper etiquette demands a tail as well.” Nana, although her eyes were more inclined to look in different directions to one another in that moment in time, still had the wherewithal to look at Hime lounging in Suguri's arms and ask, in a very groggy voice, “Am we... Was I... Is we... Inter'pting somethink?” “Oh, nothing that we can't continue later,” Hime said with a wink, climbing down. “She means 'no, nothing',” Suguri deadpanned. “I don't suppose you two would like to put the beach back where it belongs?” “Nope!” Kae said proudly, conspicuously not looking at giant crater she had left. Suguri sighed. “I suppose we'll pick a different beach next year. It's about time to split the watermelon. Would you go and fetch it?” Kae had vanished before the sentence was finished. Hitting things with sticks was very much a Kae thing, and she dragged Nanako along in her wake. Suguri didn't expect her to come back with one watermelon; rather, she expected to see her juggling three. As the two departed, Hime gave Suguri a nudge. “Next year, hm? I don't recall discussing a second trip.” “Well, it hasn't been a bad day. I want to make a sandcastle next time.” “Oh, yes. There's still things the beach has to offer us. I was planning to bury you up to your neck in the sand and then poke your cheeks.” “...Don't make me change my mind.” A year, Suguri thought, had always been such a short time. That was the problem. Time didn't freeze, as Hime said; it just went faster and faster while you weren't looking, and for all her speed Suguri had never been able to catch up with it. You blinked, and the Earth had come to the same spot again, and all that had changed was the year. But here, today, she blinked: the Earth remained where it was, and the year was the same, but her friends were wearing different expressions. It hadn't been a bad day, here at the beach. It hadn't been a bad day at all.

#fanfic #100% orange juice #suguri #hime #kae #nanako #innuendo #beach #Suguri (series)

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italicwatches · 6 years

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GAMERS! Episode 01

Nobody participated in the game! Jerks.

I kid, I kid. I love you all.

So now that we’ve hit some of the big shows I’ve wanted to do for a while, it’s time to get at some of the lighter things! And mostly, I mean lighter workload. One-cour specials that I can burn through in a fortnight. Is that how you spell the actual word? The game has been so massively omnipresent over everything I look at that I can’t tell anymore.

…Anyways it’s GAMERS!, episode 01! Here we GO!

-We begin, with a blue sky, a flying plane, and a title pop! Then we scroll down from a school roof, down into a classroom. Everyone’s staring. It’s nearly 4 PM. Two figures stand against each other. Some folks have some pretty amazing faces on. Time is still. Like, full-on ZA WARUDO level time is still.

-And then…The clock finally clicks over. The cicadas start to buzz…And then die. Alas, poor cicada.

-SPRING!

-Hard cut to a game store advertising some naughty materials, as a narrator explains how some people are ‘above the clouds’. All the hottest titles for the PZ4 are out in force, and I’m pretty sure I recognize at least one cover. A young man gathers up some older, cheaper games on sale, as the narrator explains how these people might be an idol, a world-stage athlete, someone you truly adore…And for some, it might be a 2D character. As he picks up the game Golden Memories and I swear to god that girl in the center of the cover looks like she was in New Game. Is this from the same studio?

-Most can only watch these figures from afar, a source of distant admiration…So, when the cutest girl in school walked into the game store at the same time as this young man narrating, and suddenly spoke to him, one Amano Keita lost all capacity to get his body and brain to communicate. The entire stack of games (including titles like LEGION OF THE FANTASY, BASE COMBAT, and a baseball game I can’t read but I know I’ve seen that art style in a Japanese baseball game before) falls from his hands, and his eyes turn cartoony as his thought process just breaks.

-And Tendou Karen introduces herself properly…As Keita’s brain hooks together what he knows of her. The rich, call, curvy, flawless young lady of the school, the sort that draws admiration from her fellow girls and adoration from the boys. She’s smart, she’s beautiful, and she’s got amazing athletic results too. She seems almost too perfect to be real.

-The visuals make it clear that all this is going to fall apart. And our sloppy goofy hero is the reason why.

-She’s not famous, but she IS the kind of girl who has to hold a bag under her locker because of how many love notes are gonna fall out when she opens it every day. The idol of the school. Meanwhile, Keita’s a goofy loner dork who’d rather play vidjagames and is firmly in the middle of every metric the school tests him on. Average height, B- grades, damn near perfectly in the middle of all his athletic tests. Like, it’s almost impressive how nondescript he is by the on-paper metrics.

-And his brain is snapping and oh god he’s freaking out HE’S FREAKING OUT OKAY DEEP BREATH CALM DOWN CALM DOWN. She ends up helping him pick up the games, as he begins to wonder if this is going to lead to extortion or something. (The X makes it sound cool) Because he just cannot ponder why Tendou Karen of all girls would be talking to him, in a game store, and not the kind of family-friendly super mainstream one that only sells E rated games your little brother’s heard of, either. There’s an eroge poster right outside.

-As they pick up such games as STOIC BATTLE 2, and Evil ElEmEnt. But then she asks him if he likes these games, and he freaks out so bad he drops them, and now she’s gotta pick them back up because his hands don’t work. And OKAY DEEP BREATH CALM DOWN SHE’S JUST A NORMAL HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT LIKE YOU NO NEED TO FREAK O—

-She picked up Golden Memories.

-…OookAY IT IS TIME TO FREAK THE FUCK OUT MAXIMUM PANIC ENGAGED

-Oh god it’s even worse.

-The game advertises itself as specifically selling blonde-girl fantasies, and includes wardrobe malfunctions.

-You get three guesses as to what color hair Karen has and the first three don’t count.

-And thus now SHE’S having a bit of a freakout and both try to play it off and woooooo boy this somehow managed to get even more awkward. Could a spout of flame please consume him now to end this torment thank you Satan. He has to try and play off why he had a blonde-gals dating sim in his hands and he insists he just was reading it to see what it was about and of couuuurse, she totally understands, yes let us both just lean on this easy explanation that lets everyone walk away…

-But of course Keita is actually kind of a total dork for the design process of them and how tightly they managed to sell a game which is when he realizes he miiiight have oversold it OH GOD TOO FAR PULL OUT PULL OUT

-Yep she’s staring.

-PANIC.

-But she breaks out into the giggles, because she’s amazed with his passion about it…And she’s…She’s like him to…To join her…

-In the game club!

-The what now?

-Hard cut to an arcade, with a small group of folks from the same school playing a flashy mahjong arcade game, when a pink-haired young lady needs the help of one guy, Tasuku! There’s an amazing(ridiculous) looking stuffed cat in the claw machine, and he’s got the magic touch…And of course, having a desperate young lady needing his help would turn the eyes of any straight young man.

-But you’re paying for the play. You’re not cutting into his game budget with this thing.

-EVEN BIGGER EYES. Why you little…

-But, okay. Deep breath. In goes 100 yen, and okay, focus, watch the toy…And Tasuku pulls the magic trick, hooking the stuffed cat’s tag with the claw! One play, and it’s in this young lady’s hands! He tries to play it cool, but inside he feels like a total badass having pulled this off for his cute, if slightly ditzy, girlfriend. The visual cue would like to let you know that his pride will soon fall.

-That night, the whole gang finally leaves the arcade…When Tasuku spots Keita over by a bench, just kinda staring down onto the bench? What’s going on with him? …Well, it doesn’t matter. He’s just some dork without a hot girlfriend.

-The visual cues want to let you know that soon this dork and Task’s hot girlfriend will be meeting in secret and Tasuku will fail.

-So Keita is staring, because Karen is explaining. She just started the gaming club, since, well, there isn’t one. It doesn’t even entirely exist yet since she hasn’t done the initial round of recruitment to get the school to accept their existence, and youuuu are her first recruit! And wow, you’re polite. …Chill, Keita. Even her classmates are all super polite. Her teacher is polite to her! Hell, when she plays Mario, Bowser himself is polite! Okay that one has to be bullshit. Maybe it was a bug?

-It did happen after three straight days of trying to beat the speed running world record for the game… You were unconscious and dreaming! Your body collapsed from lack of capacity! The only bug is the one in your damn head that led to you thinking that was a smart thing to do!

-And Karen breaks out into the giggles, having finally gotten through Keita’s shell…As she admits that the gaming thing is a bit of a secret. Her friends don’t really know about it…She even picked this school because it once had a famous gaming club. But…It collapsed, in the time between her testing in and her first day at the school…She spent her whole first year politicking behind the scenes to get the school to let her revive it, and now she’s ready to make it stronger than it ever was! That’s actually impressive.

-But what will it be, exactly…? Well, playing games, of course. But not just that. They’ll be playing them seriously. Competitively. This isn’t just about the love of games. This is about games as self betterment. And for that, she needs the kind of souls who can slam themselves against the wall again and again until they finally, finally break through. And she found one, in you! The wind picks up, the springtime cherry blossoms swirl around them, and Keita is in awe, as he finds himself…

-Finds himself…Unsure what to say…When her mother texts her! She has to get going she’s already breaking curfew wait for her after school tomorrow BYE! Ohgodrunrunrunrunmom’sgonnabesomad

-That night in his tiny little apartment, Keita slacks upon his bed, playing his totally-not-a-PS-Vita. I think I will call it a PZ Vivio, because stupid references are the best references. So anyways he’s playing it, and he can’t help but feel like this game club thing…This could be huge! The event in his youth that he’s been waiting for! Is this a dream? A magical wonderful dream—He just got a text.

-Okay. Deep breath. Pick up the phone. See what it says.

-Oh, it’s just an alert. A game friend, Mono-san, is requesting help in a mobile MMO type deal. Sure. Sure thing. PZ Vivio go down, phone goes up…

-And then we fade over to the cutesy, curly-haired girl who is Mono-san…Just to make it clear what we’re dealing with here.

-Cut to the next day! Class just wrapped, and Keita takes a deep breath, as he has to decide what to do…And Mono-san needs help again? Well, he can take a couple minutes to dive into a boss battle, besides Karen was probably just fucking with hi—

-HEY KEITA

-Yipe!

-Yep she went and found him because waiting for him to find her sounded boring. And dang, you play mobile games too, huh? And everyone’s starting to stare. Okay. Okay deep breath they should go to the club room right now! He races out after Karen, having just declined the help request and please forgive him Mono-san…As Tasuku and his group watch this hapless dork walk off with the hottest girl in school.

-To the stairwell! Where we meet Misumi Eiichi! Keith is confused. He’s her other first recruit! She found him at the arcade playing vintage puzzlers! And he’s all kind of embarrassed, as Keita quietly realizes how much of a fucking idiot he was thinking he had a chance at this…

-But then Eiichi extends a hand, and admits he’s not a super sociable guy. But he’d love to be friends with Keita. And…You know what? There’s not a damn thing wrong with ‘just’ making some good friends who he shares a passion with. Keita shakes that hand with both of his own, and it might not be the dating sim fantasy he had in his head, but this still could work out just fine…

-As all three head for the clubroom, where Karen admits she had to do some very cunning work to get them to approve the club…But they get there, and she flips the door sign to reveal it is now OPEN! She even did a custom club sign with cute pixel art on it!

-The place is already kitted out with tons of games and setups, fight sticks and spare pads…And the other recruits. Kase Gakuto, who Karen has to introduce because he’s busy playing. Then, over there playing Guilty Gear is Oohiso Niina. Both of these two are the senpais of the group, and Niina is not listening because all that matters is the Guilty Gear.

-And Gakuto here is one of the top FPS players in the world, as he wrecks face at CSGo. Or as Keita calls it, COS. And Eiichi admits that he really only knows vintage puzzlers. Well they’ll have to teach you!

-And the best part? Everything here was bought over the last year by entering in local tournaments! The school may not be super into games, but they damn well like having trophies to display and students bringing in their own club funds! But what good is a game club if there’s no game playing? Come on, guys, pick something and play~!

-And Gakuto wants to see what these guys can do…

-Straight up first round, team deathmatches in Battlefield. Gakuto wrecks face, with Karen close behind, and the rookie guys do…Poorly. Next round! By the fifth match, Keita is better than two of the bots on his and Gakuto’s team, while Eiichi is slowly but surely improving a little. MORE ROUNDS. 30 rounds in, Keita is actually slipping from sheer exhaustion and Eiichi is getting intense too…

-A full two hours later, and Keita collapses. Karen even has to ask Gakuto to go a little easier on the new recruits, but no. He’s not running a damn training school. You learn or you fall behind. Do you want to be stuck here all on your own again, jerk?

-Also as an aside, they have a legit straight-up Guilty Gear XRD Rev2 poster up on the wall. No BASE COMBAT for that franchise.

-Also Gakuto strongly questions whether Eiichi has really never played one of these before. You got the hang of twin-sticking it really quickly for someone new…And you got three kills on him. Eiichi insists he just got lucky, but at this point I’m pretty fuckin’ sure he’s lying. But whether he’s secretly got practice or just is a fast learner…

-But as for Keita, why the hell did you just stand in that corner jumping up and down on that car in the last round?! He, he wanted to see the scenery past the wall…Well you’re making everyone else on your team’s life harder, you jackass!

-And soon Karen has to calm everyone down and call for a break, as she and Eiichi step out onto the balcony…And Keita just stares, as Gakuto goes right back to CSGO on the PC and I’m not entirely sure Niina even realizes the two newcomers are here. Karen ends up asking what got the two into games…And Keita realizes he doesn’t, really, have one…

-Contrast, say, Gakuto, whose father is in a PMC and so he came into the FPS genre with tons of core practices already in his head that got translated into game mechanics. Or Niina who is trying to pull her best friend back from the dark side. (Your friend turned out to be a Gator, huh? I’ve been there, lass. May your trials serve to bring them back to sanity.)

-And Keita suddenly feels very, very awkward…At least Eiiichi doesn’t have any good reason either, so Keita can just relax, and take a deep thorough drink from his coke can…

-He just lost his memoirs and when he came to, the only thing he was good at was vintage puzzlers.

-SPITTAKE

-Keita suddenly feels like the only sane man in a world gone mad. And Karen tries to lighten the mood and encourage them to stick around. This isn’t about being some world-class gamer. It’s just about the core idea of self-betterment through games, and anyone can do that, no matter where they’re starting off! Eiichi is sold. Give him the form, he’ll be joining!

-And Keita? Well…Keita…

-As he steps out of the room, Gakuto promises to teach him proper team play, and Niina silently shoves an old fight stick into his hands. They might be weird, they might be a bit intimidating, but there’s a kind and genuine heart in their core. This might just work. He can make this work! So he can most definitely say that he’ll—

-Pass! You guys are all super competitive and he’s into single player stuff and RPGs.

-Pardon?

-New day! Class! Keita has realized by now how much of a FUCKING IDIOT he was, when his phone buzzes! Mono-san needs his help…Sure, sure thing, that’ll clear his mi—

-Karen appears! And she’s not giving up. Join. Her. Club. She’s interested in you! And that gets everyone to go silent, as she holds out her hand…And the timer on Mono-san’s request ticks down, lower, lower…Keita reaches out, and…Taps it at the last second! What were you saying, Karen?

-…He…Look. He can’t join the game club.

-Why? Is it because you don’t think you’re good enough? They’ll take care of you, rookie or otherwise!

-…No. He’s…He’s not into competition. He likes the love of games. He’s not a competitive guy at all. Your focus is fantastic, but it’s just not for him, so…

-So Karen suddenly feels like she just got dumped. And everyone’s staring. She goes tsuntsun to try and save face but god dammit quit trying to be nice to her! She walks out in tears…Only to slip on a banana peel and faceplate so hard that she’s got to flee at top speed in a panicked sob…

-As Mono-san sends Keita a thank-you note for the save.

-Episode 01: Amano Keita and Chapters of the Chosen

-TO BE CONTINUED…

…You fucking stupid idiot.

#where I watch #recap #anime #gamers!

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hiphopandtheirishquestion · 4 years

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Year Zero

The first rap album I really got into was Public Enemy’s Yo! Bum Rush the Show. Till then, it had mostly been one off singles and compilations. Public Enemy also conformed more to the traditional format of a band. Nothing as clichéd as guitars and a drummer of course, but they far were more than a DJ and a rapper. Chuck D, Flavor Flav, Professor Griff, the S1Ws and Terminator X... PE! And in June 1988 they were coming to Dublin.

PE dressed all in black, bar Flav who liked red tracksuits. The S1W’s (Security of the 1st World) were their military wing, and it was said they carried Uzi Sub-machine guns on stage. Chuck D was the front-man and was angry. He wanted revolution yesterday. He was asked if he was playing a game. No, he said, ”We’re not playing any game. Everything else is a game. This is the un-game".

I liked that. The Ungame

They were playing in McGonigles off Grafton Street, so the Def Road Massive (all two of us) made our way to the big smoke. But we made sure to get into character first. TV programmes like Rapido suggested whistles were an essential accessory for any self-respecting b-boy. And being PE, we thought plastic Uzis would be a nice touch, something that didn’t help our 17-year old chances getting served in a pub.

Going to Dublin to see your first out-of-town concert is a rite of passage for us culchies. The fact that mine was a rap band from New York, one that most of my schoolmates would not even have heard of, gave it added weight, at least in my book. I had seen Dublin punks Paranoid Visions and The Human League in Waterford - both great experiences in their own way. But this was different.

Public Enemy, hip hop, was mine. I could leave the other meatheads back in Tramore CBS to headbang to Quo or Van Halen or whoever they fucking liked. To the extent that any of them even knew who PE were it would have been to dismiss it as not being music. Good. Keep it that way. I’ll have my “music” you have yours, you dopey shower of cloth eared, black-shoes-and-white-socks wearing, In the naaaaaaammme of luuuuvvvvvvv singing along with, shit-for-brained bastards.

There - that told 'em.

The day began with a hip hop hors d'ouevre. PE were performing on the grounds of Trinity College that afternoon. I turned up at college green radiating as many rebellious vibes as I could, because I, of course, was a kindred spirit, coming from the crime and poverty riddled slums of Tramore.

The Golden Horde came on first. They played fast, thrashy punk music, and were great. PE - less so. They began by asking everyone to do the peace sign. We half-heartedly followed suit. The whole ‘throw your hands up in the air’, crowd participatory thing is one of the more questionable aspects of the live rap experience. Particularly in the middle of the afternoon, to a crowd of mostly curious onlookers as opposed to actual fans. The punks who had been enthusiastically stage diving ten minutes previously began drifting away, muttering ‘what the fuck is this shit? or words to that effect. And they had a point.

When PE eventually got round to playing some music, they played one song, a tuneless Bring the Noise. It didn’t bode well for main event. Bring The Noise is a banger. If that sounds shit, what hope for the rest of the gig? Perhaps the setting was wrong but I hoped it wasn’t a sign of things to come. I didn’t want to spend the whole night being bequeathed to 'say yeah, throw up the peace sign, say yeah, say hell yeah', do anything really except jump around, pump my fist a bit and, in the words of Mantronix, get stupid.

In was all worth it though. Brief set over, PE left the stage and happily mingled with the handful of fans there, belying their reputation as serious, humourless militants. I came away with the inside of my jacket signed Tx (Terminator X), Flavor Flav, PE #1 (Chuck D) and S1Ws (Professor Griff). Was this the musical wing of Louis Farrakhan, the black racists who believed white people to be devils, the angriest group in the world? Lovely chaps to a man - but I looked forward to furious anger later that night.

And so to McGonigles. The music pre-gig was a revelation. I knew a track called The Terminator from a mixtape I had secured somewhere. It sampled Arnie and The Darleks ‘ex-ter-min-ate’ mantra. Here, it made sense. The Terminator would not rest till he had taken out all ‘wack MC’s’. Chuck D had once said that rap was meant to be played loudly, not on your headphones. I now knew what he meant.

In truth, I had no idea what went on at a rap gig. Another song I loved was The Manipulator by Mixmaster Gee and the Turntable Orchestra. ‘Turntable Orchestra cut it up!’ went the refrain, before a wordless chorus of scratching. PE consisted of a quite a lot of people. Only Chuck, Flav and Terminator X had clearly defined roles. Was everyone else on stage scratching up records like a turntable orchestra? I held out some hope that this would be the case (it wasn’t).

Between the pre-gig tunes and a roomful of hip hop starved fans, McGonigles was hopping by the time the band came onstage. And despite being a bit short, involving quite a lot of between-song preaching and a dodgy sound system, it was utterly brilliant. Life-changing, even.

Nothing could diminish the impact of seeing a rap band, and my undisputed favourites at that, up front and personal for the first time. The S1Ws stood on either side looking menacing. Flav did a dance with a bunch of clocks around his neck. Terminator X stood behind the decks, huge PE logo at the front, looking cool as only a hip hop DJ can.

The quality of the sound, the fact that it took me about two minutes to even recognise Rebel Without A Pause, was irrelevant. It was a hip hop love in, and PE could do no wrong. Perhaps the Irish crowd associated with the underdog, or with the sense of standing up to a perceived oppressor. At one point, someone handed a tricolour on stage. This kind of mawkish, come-on-foreign-rock-star-say-how-much-you-love-Oireland nonsense usually makes me want to puke. But here, it was powerful.

Chuck took the flag and told us how lucky we were to have it. We’d kicked the Brits out and were independent (the words may have been different but that was the sentiment). They, on the other hand, as black Americans had nothing. No flag, no homeland, nothing. As a speech for oppressed minorities it was up there with Pearse’s graveside oration.

If there’s a defining moment in 80s Irish hip hop culture then this gig was surely it. Schoolly D and London Posse had played in Dublin, but it was PE at McGonigles that marked year zero for the new generation of B-boys and girls. Eamon Carr saw historical parallels.

‘The Clash in the exam hall in Trinity and Public Enemy in McGonigles, it’s a bit like 1916 in the GPO. We were there! There are so many others who wish they were or think they were there’.

Eric Moore, or DJ Laz-e, old skool hip hop head and DJ at RTE Gold, was another of the lucky ones. “I remember you couldn’t breathe. It was so packed. I was only just sixteen and it was the first concert I’d ever gone to. I’d lied and said I was staying at a friend’s house. And it wasn’t like I was drinking or smoking or anything. Hip hop was my only vice.”

Unsurprisingly, considering his pedigree as a Breakdancer and soon to be champion DJ, he was never going to rock up with a mere whistle and plastic machine gun in the line of accessories.

"I had a pink feather going through a rope gold chain – I thought this is really Zulu Nation. And all my friends were in character too. We wanted to be different. We were like punk rockers. We were obsessed with this shit".

Eric’s Clondalkin crew went on to do great things in the Irish hip hop world, the likes of Sherlock, Tron, Mek and Cutmaster Jay, all of whom were in McGonigles that night, cleaning up at national DMC DJing championships over the ensuing years. The Def Road Massive, alas, remained steadfastly underground. Deep, deep underground.

As did hip hop generally, at least in Waterford in 1988. But that didn't mean we weren't right - a conviction my grandfather and the other 1916 rebels also held 82 years previously. And there would be no need for MC James Connolly to call on his followers to 'raise the roof' – the guns of the British army would see to that.

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thediabeticslut · 7 years

Text

Basic Bro | “Thanks for sucking my dick”

dates: 🍦🍦🍦🍦 sex: 🍦🍦 awkward diabetes moment? no (date rating guide here)

choice quote: “How would you rate my dick on a scale of one to five? You know, like a Yelp review.”

~SCROLL DOWN FOR DICK DEETS~ This is just slightly embarrassing to admit, though it shouldn’t be: I’ve never dated or hooked up with anyone I’ve gone to school with. Well, hadn’t ever. The convergence of fatness, depression, awkwardness, shyness, low self-esteem, ssri-induced lack of libido, and diabetes-induced lethargy basically assured that. But now I’m finally back in school, and with weight loss and a dye job, society has finally deemed me attractive and desirable. Super fucked up, right? Alas, here we are. I’d had a crush on Basic Bro since the first day of class. He wore a rad silk bomber jacket (so on-trend!) and spoke up often with a uniquely cool bravado. He seemed smart, engaged, and like he really cared about school - basically, everything you want in a classmate, and also a good deal of what turns me on. One day, I ended up sitting next to him, and he struck up a conversation. The classroom was hot that day, or maybe it was just me. I was only wearing a light flannel, but I was sweating tiny bullets and could feel my face reddening while I prayed that my light layer of makeup could adequately cover the intensifying physiological signs of a developing crush. He spoke smoothly and confidently, and we had one of those oh-so-satisfying whispered conversations, the kind that make you feel like you’re in your own little world, the kind woven with climactic tension. The tension isn’t sexual, and it’s hardly even flirtatious, but it’s enough to leave you smiling and wondering for the rest of the day. “Do you understand what she’s saying?” “Yeah, I think she’s talking about Freudian psychoanalysis.” “Damn, you’re smart, huh?” “Hah! Hardly.” He asked for my number, “Just in case I need to know about, like, class stuff. ‘Cause you seem like you take really good notes.” And indeed, I was left wondering. He did eventually text me, but just about class. But that evolved to larger conversations about school, and then, at his behest, just plain conversation. Yeah... I started to get the sense he might be into me. Of course, I was into him, too, but one of my biggest hesitations was our age difference. I just turned 24, and he’s 20. Or, as he phrased it, “I turn 21 in December.” With younger guys, of course, there’s a greater risk of immaturity, but I didn’t want to make any assumptions. What really held me back was my own shame. I’m a textbook late bloomer, always feeling a bit behind in life, and dating someone younger would feel like proof of that. I’ve internalized the message that women who date younger men are desperate, losers. For what it’s worth, I also judge men who date younger women. I generally follow the half-your-age-plus-seven rule, which tells me that 19 is my lower limit, but that still feels way too young. I decided to proceed with caution and told myself that barring some amazing display of maturity and compatibility on his part, this would just be a hookup. I kept talking to him, but I also kept Tindering in hopes of finding an actual relationship (I know, I know!) Unfortunately, Basic Bro did start to show signs of immaturity. He skips class often - he’s probably only been to half of them, and it’s a once a week class. Then, when I invited him to a study session, he stopped responding to my texts and only got in touch the next day to tell me he’d accidentally slept most of the day. But then, he asked me out... kind of? “hey would you like to hang out sometime? maybe we could study more, or not” I’d figured out by this point that this kid has the mentality of a high schooler. But my crush hadn’t fully faded, and it was high time to hang out with someone I’d met in real life, rather than on a dating app. So I did. DATE 1 He flaked on our first meeting (no surprise there), but we finally met up for pizza last week. Since he almost never comes to class, and since I have a class right after ours, I hadn’t actually talked to him much in person, most of our contact was over text. When he showed up, it was supremely awkward. He didn’t have much to say, so I had to put on my bubbly face and force-feed him conversation. I had to wonder if he was just like this, or if he was nervous because of me. I was pretty positive he was into me, but I wasn’t actually sure whether this was a date. He did pay for the pizza, though, and was awkwardly chivalrous in constantly refilling my water. I guess that’s a sign. When we were done, I asked, “So what do you want to do now?” “Uh, we could walk around and talk, sit on a bench and talk, sit on the grass and talk...” Another sign. We did all three, walking around the local college campus and chatting. We mostly talked about basic things - school, family, interests, life goals. I quickly learned that he’s not the guy I initially saw him as. I don’t know how to put this tactfully, but he’s... simple. I don’t want to call him stupid, but he was very basic in a way I didn’t quite expect. Hence Basic Bro. But that, in a way, emboldened me. My inhibitions were lowered and I was able to be more honest with him since I wasn’t concerned about making a perfect impression or proving myself in any way. We’d spent about 3 hours together and my denim shirt was becoming inadequate for the evening cold. I told him this in hopes he’d put his arm around me, but he didn’t, and it was actually really fucking cold, so I invited him back to my apartment so I could grab a sweater. Of course, I wouldn’t mind if we didn’t go back outside, either... As it turned out, his phone was dead, so I let him charge it, and we just stayed inside. He seemed to be in no hurry to leave, but he didn’t make a move, either. I could have been more forward, but my self-doubt got the better of me. Our time involved a lot of, “So, what do you want to do now?” and I hoped that sitting next to each other on my bed would lead to something, but we just listened to records and played a very ineffective two-person game of Cards Against Humanity. He eventually left, late at night, having done nothing. I was okay with that, though - I think it’s important for me to not give into my impulses and actually get to know people before sleeping with them. I knew I’d see him the next day, anyway. DATE 2 It was 4/20, my favorite tacky holiday and also the day of our midterm. Our class runs from 1:30-4:20, and unfortunately our professor didn’t let us go after the test and lectured right up until the end. I caught up with Basic Bro after class as he was headed to the train, asking if he had 4/20 plans. He said he was probably just going to work on homework, and I said I was going to check out the campus celebration, just on my own. “Hey, actually, do you wanna like, get food or something?” I said sure, or we could smoke and then get food. We headed to the big lawn where everyone was getting high, there was free cotton candy and Krispy Kreme, and Basic Bro and I smoked and had an edible. While we were there, The Korean spotted me and called out my name. He was on a balcony and I was down below, so I didn’t have to see him up close, thank god. Honestly, and this is so rude, but his face repulses me now. I just waved back, “Hey!!” Basic Bro asked, “Who’s that?” “Oh, just a friend I used to work with.” “Are you gonna go say hi?” “Uhhh, haha, I already did, didn’t I?” Since I’m a petty bitch, I hope he was jealous when he saw me looking hot with my strappy bra and cute tacky weed shirt, hanging out with a more attractive guy. I can’t say for sure he felt that way, but he did start watching all my snapchat stories... Basic Bro took me to his favorite Thai place and we scarfed down some larb and pad see ew. Then we went to a bookstore/record shop where he bought some vinyl to christen his new turntable. We picked out some cheap records just based on their covers, including one with a woman riding a horse naked. Prime material for sexual jokes, right? I said, “Oh my god, I have to know what this sounds like,” and he said, “Oh yeah, of course you can listen.” The implication there is that we’d go back to my apartment again, so we did. And once again, it took a million years for him to make a move. We listened to record after record (he bought like 4), watched 3 episodes of The Office, and then, as we lay next to each other, he said, “Hey, can I ask you something? Sorry, this is kind of awkward. Do you like... like me?” What can I even say to that? I’m not interested in dating him and I don’t want him to get that impression. I just said, “Well, what do you think we’re doing here right now?” “Lying next to each other?” “Yeah.” “So what does that mean? Yes?” “Uh... yeah... Can I ask the same of you?” “Uh... yeah...” FINALLY. TIME TO GET DICKED DOWN! We made out and grinded against each other and it was so, so hot. Maybe it’s just because I’ve been deprived, and my last sexual experience was so disappointing, but this shit was amazing. Before we went any further, he told me that he and his girlfriend broke up a few weeks ago, but that he still sees and talks to her. I told him I didn’t care, but I wanted him to take the lead and only do what he’s comfortable with, because I don’t know what the situation is like. He was still pretty passive, though, and I had to be more dominant and directive, which is always annoying. I went down on him and honestly, daaaamn @ that dick. damn. Not huge but probably my ideal size, and thick, too. But because of this, I had trouble with the blowjob, and like so many guys do, he jumped to the face-fucking. He did check in with me throughout about consent, but I had to stop several times because it was getting overwhelming. Then he pulled another super fucking porn-y move and slapped his dick against my face. Maybe I’ve been too socialized to accept this shit, and I probably need to critically examine my place in the world as a sexually active woman, but I didn’t really mind it, at least in terms of sensation. If that’s what he likes, then whatever. I minded much more that it was a porn move, and I bet he doesn’t actually like it that much, he’s probably just emulating what he sees in videos. It’s funny, because in class that day, I saw him reading an article about this very topic - the myths about sex that young people learn from porn. I was getting sick of sucking his dick and wanted to move on to actual sex, but he couldn’t keep it up. I wasted three condoms on him! In all the time we spent together, he kept talking about his struggle to not be seen as a fuckboy, but then he suggested doing it without protection, saying “my ex had an IUD, we were fine” and “if you’ve only slept with a few people you trust, and they haven’t slept with many other people, I don’t see the issue.” Classic fuckboy move. I felt like his mother giving him a lecture about STDs, and how HPV doesn’t show symptoms in men, and why is he so confident that I’m clean, doesn’t he care about himself? Throughout, I could only think: “This fucking high schooler.” So we gave up, turned the lights on, and the first thing out of his dopey mouth is: “Uhhh, thanks for sucking my dick.” “Uh. Yeah. Sure.” And then: “So do girls actually like sucking dick?” This was reminiscent of a question he asked earlier, at lunch. “So, what do chicks, like, talk about?” Memories of all the bawdy, naive, insecure, cocky boys from my high school days came flowing back, making me feel all the dirtier for having hooked up with Basic Bro. I didn’t really know what to say, I mean, what kind of question is that? I just told him, “Uh, I like that the other person enjoys it, that’s what I get out of it. Maybe some people like it, but if most girls actually did, you’d probably see more people deepthroating cucumbers in their spare time.” And as if two incredibly awkward post-sex utterances weren’t enough, he went for a third. Yeah, the one before the cut. “How would you rate my dick on a scale of one to five? You know, like a Yelp review.” He’s probably now in competition with the Bolivian for weirdest things said right after hooking up. Now feeling way too old and done with this shit, I just said, “What the fuck? That’s such a fucking awkward question.” He said, “I know, I know, you don’t have to answer.” At least I had a cop-out: “I mean, I didn’t really experience the full extent of it, so I can’t tell you.” Well... It can only go uphill from here, right?

#sweet sweet dates #the basic bro

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