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mukumukunomi · 6 months

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Not Alone. Never Alone. (part 1)

Luffy x Fem!Reader

cw: fluff, no smut, first love, implied semi-relationship, no manga spoilers, takes place just after East Blue's arc in live action, idiots in love

wc: 1,663

a/n: This is part one of a a short and sweet two parter. I'll be uploading it soon hopefully! Still thinking of more cute one-shots I can write as well. Part two will be linked below

Part Two (Luffy)

❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦

You tell him that getting involved would result in disaster.

But Luffy is a magnet for disaster. He’s chaos incarnate. Brutally honest to a flaw with a kindness that shatters ideals and shakes the foundation of the world. It’s as rare as it is maddening.

“I'm serious. It’s better if I go alone tonight instead of tomorrow.”

The words bite through the silence. It actually forces Luffy away from shoveling the food in his mouth as he eyes you up and down.

“Where are we going?”

You sigh. He’s not listening to you. Not really. The words are going in but not processing. Luffy always does it when he hears something he doesn’t like. He simply states what he wants instead like the universe will bend itself to his will.

Maybe it does.

“Not ‘we’. I am going to go to the island. Me. Not you.”

Luffy frowns. You know he doesn’t doubt your strength nor your character. But it’s the subtle narrowing of his eyes and the way he slowly chews his food that gives his emotions away. He’s annoyed, you think.

“I don’t want ya’ to go alone.”

You sigh dramatically. He’s like a petulant child. His reasoning confounds you. “I’ll be careful.”

He breaks gaze with you to take another huge bite of meat. It’s impressive how he manages to scarf it down in the span of two minutes before he’s once again berating you. “But I can be stealthy!”

You wipe a crumb from his cheek. His face is twisted, eyes avoiding you. He whistles a broken tune mainly because he’s terrible at whistling. Sweat drips down his face. All the tells convincing you that your captain would be terrible poker player. “Leave the lying to Usopp. It’s not your forte. And leave the stealthiness to me. It’s my forte.”

His concern isn’t unwarranted. You're sneaking into the lair of people who once held you as a short-time captive long ago. They’re not as fearsome as some of the pirates you and the crew have encountered, but nevertheless have connections to people you’d rather avoid.

You’re wanted in more waters than the prospective King of the Pirates beside you. The ties of your family and the status they have in this world make it so you’re looking over your shoulder at all times. You’ve never known freedom until the strange being named Monkey D. Luffy stumbled into your life.

But you know the layout of this particular place, and it has something the crew requires. Without it they can’t continue their journey forward. And you’d be damned if you were the one holding them back.

“It’ll be quick. In and out. They’ll never even know! I spent a lot of time there as a prisoner so-.”

Luffy slams the meat bone onto the plate in front of him. He calls Sanji for more. Sanji’s disgruntled reply echoes from the kitchen to your place on the deck. You almost think the thing is settled until Luffy’s blazing eyes meet yours again.

The words are harsh. “I’m going.”

“Luffy, we don’t need to waste time on something I can handle myse-”

“That’s an order from the captain.”

His voice holds no cheerfulness. He’s never used that tone with you before. It’s the tone of finality. It means that Luffy has heard you out and he’s overruling you. You’ve seen him use it on people. You’ve never had it used on you before. The abruptness of it makes you stand.

Hurt flares in your chest. Did he not trust you? Did he actually think you were weak? The logical part of your brain screams ‘no!’ but it’s buried in the torrent of emotions. Here was a chance to prove just how useful you could be. Prove you belonged on this crew. Why did he have to be so difficult?

Luffy’s attention diverts again. He settles back into his mantra of consuming whatever is in front of him as Sanji places another plate of meat down. You make eye contact with the cook, who simply shrugs at the mood the captain is in. You huff in anger and decide being anywhere else is better than talking to the brick wall with a straw hat.

Habit finds you in the main meeting area of the Going Merry. Besides the currently absent presence of Sanji in the small kitchen, the crew’s swordsman is dozing lazily in the corner of the common space. You can’t tell if he’s supposed to be sharpening his sword or is sneaking the booze supply. It surprises you to see him in cohabitation with Sanji in the same room at all.

You plop next to Zoro. You draw your knees up to your chest and rest your elbows on your knees. You let out a long, dragged out keening noise of frustration.

“He shut you down, huh?”

Without looking, you smack his shoulder. Zoro simply scoffs as he tries to get more comfortable against the wall. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You eye his form. “You said he’d be stubborn. Nami suggested I wait until he was eating to try to convince him.”

Zoro shifts the Wado Ichimonji on his hip. “Yeah, Nami’s right about that. He’s pretty susceptible when food’s on offer. You can convince him to do almost anything.”

The groan that is your reply is muffled by your arms. "Apparently not everything."

He taps the hilt of the blade on your head. “Problem wasn’t the timing. It was the subject.”

Your brows scrunch together. “The subject?”

“You.”

“You’re saying that I’m the problem.”

Zoro smirks. “Yup.”

You shove his shoulder at his shit-eating grin. Luffy and you care for each other. More than friendship. Not quite romantic. You're not sure if he even knows how to be. So you both settle for a comfortable in-between where labels are irrelevant. You’re free to explore this feeling between you two and see where it leads. Despite his naivete, there’s a quiet confidence in Luffy’s chaste kisses. In lingering touches and odd looks that make your heart rate elevate. There are moments where you wonder if he truly knows the effect he has on you.

You’re in love with him. So in love with him. You don’t know how deep his love for you runs. It terrifies you.

Your indignant snort reverberates the space. “I don’t understand.”

The moss-head rolls his eyes at you and takes a swig of a bottle. “If you don’t understand then you may be an even bigger idiot than he is.”

You decide that the room is more stuffy as you feel hot embarrassment at his remark. “At least I’m an idiot that can find my way around.”

The swordsman makes an interesting coughing noise as you get up and exit back onto the deck.

Going Merry is docked at the north end of the inlet. It shrouds your little caravel just enough that you can still see the top of the fortress that lies beyond the hill to the south. You can see that the clouds are beginning to move eastward as a warm wind blows from the storm front to the west. Luffy is no longer where he was, but you can hear the echoes of his voice from below. Sanji passes you to return to the kitchen to clean up and lock the fridge, which will hopefully keep a certain pest (captain) away. You begin descending the stairs to the main deck as Sanji and Zoro’s voices start to hurl insults at each other from behind.

The only one who remains on deck is Nami, who’s staring at a map of the island on the flat end of an upright barrel. An oil lamp burns beside her to give light. You rest your chin on her shoulder and hum at the layout. “That’s wrong.”

You point to the secret entrance Nami’s drawn. “It’s just to the west of the hill at the base. And that forest stretches all the way to the coastline too.”

Nami frowns and marks the correction with a pen. “Damn, I’ll have to redraw again at some point.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You say, voice turning bitter. “It’s not worth that kind of effort.”

You hope to never see this island again after this.

Nami simply raises an eyebrow. “You sound upset. What did Luffy say?”

You tend to forget how perceptive the navigator is. “He ordered me to let him come. Ordered! Like a captain! Can you believe that?”

“Ah. Well he is the captain.” Nami clicks her tongue, “Serious tone and all too?”

You nod. “Any chance of still changing his mind?”

The tangerine colored strands of her hair flow gently in the breeze as Nami laughs. “Absolutely not. But maybe it’s for the best. We both know how stubborn he can be.”

She snuffs the oil lamp out and folds the map to put in her pocket. Without the warm light, the ship is suddenly shrouded in an eerie darkness. The only light left is from the pale glow of the moon. Nami shifts her attention back to you. “Heading to bed. You?”

Usopp’s snores have already begun to resound across the ship. There are heavy footsteps below you from the men’s quarters. There’s a brief moment of loud talking and heavy things being thrown before peace once again returns to the Going Merry.

You gaze up at the stars. “In a minute. I forgot something in the kitchen.”

The navigator yawns as she walks away. You watch her disappear below. There’s a heavy feeling in your gut as you move towards the ship’s railing. You peer over it, gazing at the strip of land alongside your ship.

Luffy could be stubborn. But so could you.

The warm air turns cold as you inhale shakily. You do a double take of the surroundings again to make sure you’re alone.

“Sorry, Luffy.”

You throw the rope ladder down and descend as quietly as possible.

#monkey d. luffy x reader #one piece #opla #monkey d. luffy #muku'sfics #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #one piece x reader

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hippolotamus · 11 days

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Who would I be if I didn't come barreling in with queer feelings??? Inspired by this post from my wife @bidisasterevankinard, this morning's therapy session and a few too many listens to Cleopatra by The Lumineers 😘

late for this, late for that | 7x06 coda | 757 words | G

“Not late. Right on time,” Evan sighs, content and sated, turning in his arms so they’re back-to-chest. It allows him to settle into his newly discovered love of being the little spoon. And Tommy’s new found love of indulging Evan.

“Good to know.” He presses a kiss into Evan’s mussed, disheveled curls, chuckling at the light snores his – boyfriend? Date? Guy he’s seeing? – is already making.

If he’s being honest, ‘right on time’ is the furthest thing from what he feels. Evan hasn’t said as much, but Tommy suspects he’s started to question things about himself. About his life in general, past interactions, romances, friendships, crushes. Eventually he’ll likely face one of the biggest, if not the biggest, questions. How could I not know?

As someone who went on a similar journey, he’ll do his best to guide Evan through. He wants to wave the proverbial magic wand to produce easy, matter-of-fact answers and soothe any wounds, but Evan will have to do that part on his own. Eventually it becomes a rewarding experience, making those discoveries, but he knows as well as anyone that it can be a bitch of a road to travel. An often dark pathway loaded with unexpected landmines. Full of monsters that go ‘boo’ at the very worst times, usually just when the dust of the last jumpscare has settled.

Not for the first time – and likely not for the last – the notion makes Tommy wish they could have met earlier. That he could somehow turn back the clock to meet himself earlier so he could be there for Evan. He’s already put himself through the wringer, in therapy and in his own mental torture chamber, about why he lied for so long about who he is. But, as his therapist reminds him over and over again, these things are never truly done. There are often new layers unveiled, triggered by different circumstances. Sometimes big and loud, sometimes ordinary and everyday. Tommy thinks Evan might be a bit of both.

Either way, here he is, wondering how his own life might have been different if he hadn’t denied himself for so long. If he could have been brave like Hen and said ‘this is who I am’. Because it’s not as if he didn’t know. Tommy knew exactly who he was, who he is. He’s known since the first time he kissed CJ, his high school football team’s defensive tackle, behind the bleachers after practice one late summer night. God knows he had been questioning for a hell of a lot longer.

However, he can’t time travel and change things. He can’t give past versions of himself options that didn’t exist. Well, technically they did, but it meant blowing up his entire life and being ostracized. While Hen didn’t have anything to lose, because she was already being isolated by that era of the 118, Tommy did.

He had what he thought were friends, though, really, most of them were alliances. People he accepted as friends for the high cost of burying his identity. Paid for with girlfriends and the occasional male sex worker when he really needed to let go. With living an empty, lonely, fraudulent existence, constantly saying no to the things and experiences he craved. Because saying yes - to ‘just one’ gay club, one pride event, one secret boyfriend willing to be called girlfriend for appearances - meant risking being found out. Meant taking a wrecking ball to the carefully curated macho persona he’d built for protection. Meant having all of his ‘meaningful’ supports and relationships ripped away. It was bad enough that his own parents couldn’t be there for him. He didn’t need the camaraderie of firefighting taken away, too.

Evan snorts and snuffles, pulling Tommy back to the present. He turns in his sleep, somehow burrowing closer as he throws an arm across Tommy’s waist. His mouth is slack and parted, breathing calm and even.

A wave of fondness washes over Tommy as he watches his… Evan sleep, blissfully unaware of all the things tumbling around in his brain. It’s an emotion he hasn’t felt in a while, not like this, but he’s grateful for how naturally it seems to want to return.

Maybe they couldn’t meet earlier or change their histories, save themselves or each other from pain. But they’re here now with their combined battle scars, ready for something, whatever that looks like. And isn’t that better than never? So, perhaps what Evan said was true. Maybe he’s not too late and they’re right on time.

part 2 (Eddie's POV) here

#911 spoilers #bucktommy #tevan #bucktommy fic #hippo writes #coda fic #911 7x06 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #the cleopatra series #christ i'm such a sucker for queer feels

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andyling · 9 months

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WAIT FUCK GUYS I JUST HAD A GREAT IDEA FOR A COMIC SERIES THAT WILL APPEAL TO ME AND MAYBE SOME OTHER PEOPLE BUT LIKE DEFINITELY TO ME IF DONE CORRECTLY

So like, y’know how Tim and Damien are kinda having a custody battle for the Robin title right now because DC never really managed to successfully give Tim his own identity? Well maybe we can have a series focused on exactly that, Tim finding a new hero identity.

BUT THAT’S NOT ALL FOLKS, BECAUSE DO YOU KNOW WHO ELSE NEEDS A NEW HERO IDENTITY?

KON EL FUCKING KENT

Do I ship Tim and Kon? Yes. Do I understand that Tim is in a relationship with Bernard right now? Yes. Do I know that DC would never let the poly relationship happen? Yes.

But guess what, I don’t give a fuck. I’m desperate here. These two don’t need to smooch I just need them to talk to each other and be best friends and go on adventures and figure their shit out. I MISS THEM. THEIR RELATIONSHIP DYNAMIC, EXCLUDING ANY ROMANCE, IS AMAZING AND I NEED MORE OF IT.

Think about it, Kon and Tim know that Jon and Damien are going to take the mantles of “Superboy” and “Robin” and they have to learn to move on. They struggle to let go, they doubt whether they truly can make a name for themselves. So, they decide to leave Metropolis and Gotham. They separate themselves from the people that have defined their entire heroic lives. But both of them are afraid of being alone, so they go together. One last journey as Robin and Superboy.

They travel the world together. They meet some familiar faces.

Maybe they go visit Greta and Cissie and we get to see how their civilian lives are going. Perhaps the girls suggest that maybe the two need to let the hero life go. Maybe Tim and Kon even consider it, but they realize that being a hero is what they want to do. (AND THEY DON’T FIGURE IT OUT WHILE IN A FIGHT OR SOMETHING, NO THEY JUST FUCKING TALK. THEY BEAT SOME SHITHEAD UP AND THEN THEY TALK. WHY DID THEY BECOME HEROS? WHY DO THEY WANT TO KEEP BEING HEROS? GIVE THEM SOME FUCKING DEPTH DC I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD)

Maybe they run into Anita. She’s found out that Slobo is alive and the three of them go to save him. (AND HE FINALLY GETS FUCKING RESCUED AFTER GETTING TRAPPED AS A CONCIOUS STATUE FOR SO FUCKING LONG FOR NO GODDAMN REASON I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE THAT WAS PUT IN THE FINALE FOR THE ORIGINAL YOUNG JUSTICE SERIES THAT LAST HALF OF THAT RUN SUCKED ASS AND EVEN IF YOU DON’T AGREE WITH ME ABOUT THAT WE SHOULD ALL AGREE THAT SLOBO DESERVED BETTER). There is a reunion and it’s sweet and happy and just a nice moment.

Shenanigans ensure, blah blah blah. They meet more familiar faces, some friendlier than others. They meet new people that help them along their journey. They now fully understand what makes them different from other heros and how they want to put those skills to use. They know what kind of heros they want to be and are ready to pave a new path for themselves.

And at the end of it the two choose new names for themselves that are hopefully not stupid and are very cool and suits them. The two have a touching moment where they say just how much the other means to them. Then they hug, maybe kiss (sorry i’m delusional), and then go their separate ways.

Tim returns to Gotham, returns to his family, and we get a nice little reunion between the bat family. He officially resigns as Robin and the first time his new hero identity is put into action is in Gotham with the rest of his family because no matter what, he’s still a bat. Tim, as a hero, does his thing and stops crime and keeps the city safe. However he also focuses his attention on the political and corporate corruption happening in not just Gotham city, but all around the world. He even uses his influence as Tim Drake-Wayne if it can help. Most people won’t know he’s the one digging up evidence and ensuring justice is served, but that’s okay. So long as people’s lives can be changed for the better, he’ll be happy.

Kon returns to Metropolis and talks to Clark. They have a heart to heart conversation and Kon official gives up the title of Superboy. He then goes to Jon and Kon officially gives his mantle to him. Kon was the first Superboy and Jon will be a more than worthy successor. Unlike Tim, Kon doesn’t stay in his home city. He bounces around from place to place aiding whoever is need of his assistance, whether that be working with another hero to stop a villain or helping a small community recover from a devastating natural disaster. He may not have a home city like other heros, but he still has a home. That home is simply spread out all over the world. After all for Kon, home is wherever his friends are.

We fast forward a few months. Tim and Kon meet up at the old Young Justice base. They joke about how much they hated each other when they first met, which leads into a serious conversation about much has changed. Despite everything, they both agree that they’ve changed for the better and will continue to keep improving themselves and their lives. And yet, even after all of that . . .

“Kon, we may have given up our old names, but we’re still a part of those legacies. No matter what the future has in store, there are some things that will never change. You’re my Superboy. Always will be.”

“And you’ll always be my Robin.”

And the comic ends.

#i blacked out for a second there- hey where did this essay come from?#did ya see that reference to a quote from the comics at the end there #i can't be a delusional shipper if its based on canon #i mean i still am delusional #and a timkon shipper #but like that ending quote is a reference to dc canon #i would make this a full fledged fanfic if i was productive enough #i don't trust dc comics with my boys but like i'll still hope #tim drake #kon el kent #conner kent #dc comics #young justice #yj 1998 #timkon #robin #superboy

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rorywritesjunk · 5 months

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I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. He’s an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. A known swordsman makes a brief appearance in this. Buggy is jealous and a bit insecure in this chapter. A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he’s a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be. Also I want to say a huge thank you to everyone who reads, reblogs, and replies on this story. I love everyone of you and it makes my day brighter knowing there are people enjoying this! So thank you thank you thank you! <3

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness @uhnanix Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 7

Buggy woke up to a bucket beside his bed, a glass of water on the nightstand, and a note telling him you were in the kitchen. He was confused as to why you left him a note because he didn’t know why you were there at first. He had fuzzy memories from the previous night: going to the shop, walking back to the ship, a drink, a marriage proposal, sharing his bed-

Oh shit. He fell out of bed, horrified by how he acted towards you. That was the last thing he wanted and he scrambled to find some clothes to put on. He found his shirt from the previous night and threw it on, ignoring the stains and smell of beer coming off it. Maybe you were still on the ship and he could explain everything, unless you left and never wanted to see him again. That was entirely possible.

You were in the kitchen when he came crashing in, eating a banana as you looked at the photos he showed you last night. He froze when he saw them and you looked up with a smile.

“Good morning, Buggy.”

“Where did you get those?!”

“You showed them to me last night.” You chuckled before taking a sip of your tea. “After you asked me to marry you.”

His hand shot off to grab them but you were quicker, moving them out of his way. You then pointed to the floating hand.

“Also, can you explain this?” You asked. “Miss Pins mentioned something about Devil Fruits but I didn't get it. and last night your body… was a part for a moment and it was…interesting to see.”

How were you talking so casually about all this? It was like discussing the weather, you were asking if it was cloudy outside. Others would have been horrified, thinking he was some kind of freak for what his body could do, but you were just eating a banana as you waited for an answer.

“I… have Devil Fruit powers.” He mumbled as he sat himself in a chair across from you. “I ate the Chop Chop fruit, so my body can split apart.” He scratched his head and looked at you. “Well? Aren't you disgusted or scared of me now?”

“Am I supposed to be?” You frowned as you finished your banana. “It's not like you bleed everywhere when it happens, right? If anything it's probably useful. You took your bottle back from me last night when we were walking, which was, admittedly, a little weird, but I had already seen it before. Just after you laid down last night I realized I wanted to ask you.”

“So…you're not disgusted that my body does this?”

“Buggy, I don't find your body disgusting.” You assured him as you sipped your tea. “Okay?”

He blushed and looked away. “Really? Even my nose?”

“I think it's cute.” You smiled.

“Sh-shut up! Don't lie to me!” He shot back as he glared at you.

“I'm not, promise.” You assured him as you looked back at the photos. “You were so cute as a kid.”

Buggy sat back in his seat, still glaring at you as you set the pictures down and got up to pour him some tea. Did you really think his nose was cute or were you just saying that? So far you'd never been mean to him, only occasionally teasing him, but he still was wary when it came to his nose.

When his tea was ready you brought the cup back to him and pushed the plate of fruit over to him. “I figured fruit would be a good post-birthday hangover meal. You need to hydrate.”

He crossed his arms and eyed the plate before looking back at you. “Why are you still here? I figured you would have left.”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” You told him as you picked up an apple and cut into it, separating it into slices. “You said stuff about me making you happy if I married you, and… I got worried.”

“I'm fine.” He grumbled as he looked down at his lap. “I was drunk, ignore what I was saying.”

You put the apple slices down on the plate before getting back up to find something with protein for him. He picked up one of the slices and shoved it in his mouth as he turned to watch you. He acted like a damn idiot last night but you stuck around to make sure he was okay. Did you want something from him or did you genuinely care about him? This wasn’t something he was used to or expected, so it was a little hard for him to understand. You found a jar of peanut butter in a cupboard and grabbed it.

“Here, have this.” You opened it, noting that it still seemed edible before finding a spoon to scoop some out for him onto the plate. He watched you suspiciously before he helped himself to the peanut butter.

“You don't have to stay.” He said with his mouth full of food. “Your boss is gonna come looking for you.”

You shrugged as you sat back down in your chair. “I'll leave in a bit, but only if you walk me back.”

He glanced up at you with a frown, but you said nothing as you grabbed a towel and wiped his face for him. He grumbled and tried to pull away from you but you didn't let him, making sure his face was clean before you sat back down. He glared at you, face flushed as he finished his plate.

“Ignore everything I said last night.” He said again as he looked down at the plate. “I was drunk.”

“So you don't think I'm nice?” You asked with wide eyes, feigning surprise. “Or soft? You don't want to marry me then?”

“I-I do!” He said before slapping his hand over his mouth. You grinned at him and leaned back in your chair. He glared at you. “You're cruel.”

“I thought I was nice.” You teased as you sipped your tea. He crossed his arms and huffed in annoyance as you grinned at him. “Let's finish up, I need to head back. I have a customer returning today and I need to make sure he gets his order.”

He just grumbled as he drank his own tea. You got up and tidied up the kitchen, making sure to wash the dishes and dry them. He watched you as you moved about, enjoying how you already felt comfortable on the ship, that you seemed to know where everything was already in the kitchen. It was a sight he could get used to, he decided, but he didn't know if it was something you'd want.

“Let's head out, okay?” You said with a smile.

Buggy just nodded, but instead of leaving the ship you led him back to his room to put the pictures back while he pulled his boots back on. You found him a clean(er) shirt to wear and held it out to him, turning you back so he could change. He didn't know why, you obviously saw him shirtless (and he had a brief flashback to what he thought was going to happen last night and he momentarily died of embarrassment before straightening back up), but once he was ready he reached to put his bandana back on when you stopped him.

“Can you leave it down?” You asked, your own cheeks pink as you reached out to touch a lock of his hair. “It's um, just so pretty. I’d like to see it.”

He stared at you, wondering if you were teasing him again, but you weren't. A lock of his hair was entwined in your fingers as you ran your thumb over it, and when you realized what you were doing you let go and put your hands behind your back.

“Sorry.”

“No, it's…fine.” Buggy said as he tossed the bandana aside. He always put his hair up, finding it to be a nuisance as it got longer. His Devil Fruit made it difficult to get a haircut, it just reattached itself whenever he tried to cut it, so he gave up and let it get long. He didn't think it was a feature someone would care about, like his nose.

You smiled at him, he felt his face heating up and he looked away as he held his arm out to you. When you linked your arm with his he straightened up before he marched out of his room with you on his arm, thinking today would be a good day.

When he saw your customer he was horrified by how handsome he was. Dark hair, cheekbones, sharp, yellow eyes. And you were nice, helping your customer into his coat, explaining what you did with his request, and when you touched his shoulders Buggy couldn't help but feel jealous because you did that for him too, you always made sure his coat fit him, but it was obvious now that you did it for everyone. Buggy had no reason to feel special.

When you finished up, your customer kissed your hand before leaving. Buggy was seething. You just shook your head before grabbing Buggy by the hand and leading him to the backroom.

“I have a present for you, Buggy.”

He tried to ignore Benji saying how cool that guy looked or Miss Pins commenting how that customer was so handsome because he knew they wouldn't think that way about him, so why would you? He said nothing as you let go of his hand and retrieved a small white box from a pile of other ones. He crossed his arms, glaring at his feet as you walked back over to him and held it out.

“Happy birthday.” You said, but he wouldn't take it from you. “Buggy?”

“You didn't know it was my birthday until last night.” He mumbled. “How do you have a gift for me already?”

You shrugged as you opened the box for him. He still wouldn't look at you. “I thought of it this morning. I did some hand stitching on this for a customer who never came back for it, but thankfully he prepaid for it.” You pulled out a square of silk, a light purple color, and held it out to him. He finally looked up, reaching out to touch it with his fingers carefully. “I thought it would look better on you than in some box.”

He hesitated and pulled his hand back. He didn't deserve a gift like this from you, especially considering on your own birthday he was an asshole to you. You said nothing as you rolled the fabric loosely before draping it over his neck. You pulled his hair out from under it before you looped it into a knot and tightened it just a bit.

You smiled as you tugged on the front of it gently. “It looks good on you, Buggy.”

Buggy swallowed heavily and nodded. You were so close to him right then. His heart was pounding and his palms were sweaty. If he didn't do what he wanted to do right then he would regret it. You'd get romanced by someone else, some more handsome pirate, and he had to make it up to you for what he did on your birthday.

Without a word he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours, nose bumping and-

Honk!

Buggy froze and pulled back from you, a look of horror on his face at what just happened. You stared at him, but before he could bolt you grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him back, tilting your head just enough to avoid bumping his nose. He kept his arms at his sides, unsure where to put them.

It felt like it went by too quickly when you pulled back from him, smiling brightly as you pecked him on the cheek.

“Is this a belated birthday gift, Buggy?” You teased as you let go of his shirt. He was red in the face but he grinned, shrugging his shoulders as he tried to be smooth.

“D’you want it to be?” He asked. You touched the silk around his neck and leaned into him, but he leaned back, expecting some kind of surface to support him, but instead he fell backwards and crashed onto the floor.

You immediately knelt down and helped him sit up, checking him for injury. He seemed fine, just embarrassed, so you kissed him on the cheek.

“It could be, but I wouldn't say no to flowers.”

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc #sunny x buggy #one piece #one piece oc #one piece fanfiction

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spooblet · 7 months

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First Trigun x Reader Post Eyyyy!!

Hi everyone! I've started this blog mainly to put all my simp needs. And maybe yours as well.

Vash, Wolfwood, and Knive's Response to: "Would you like me if I turned into a worm?" Question from (Y/n).

(Talking about Trigun's big ass worm and not the tiny one hehe)

Vash The Stampede:

The two of you were on a travel journey to go to the next city, Augusta. Regardless of how long the walk would take, the conversations help pass the time. Making it interesting to get to know Vash more and more. Everything was going well until there was a question that hit your mind. (Y/n) already knew what answer Vash was going to give, but it's the way he answered and expressed it that piqued an interest.

"Vash...I got a question for 'ya." (Y/n) changed the topic as they looked up to them.

"Huh? What is it, (Y/n)?" Vash asked, expressing his curiosity as to what his mayfly would ask him.

"...Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

There was a sudden silence between the two before Vash responded with: "I beg your pardon?" Making sure he had heard right.

“Ya…Would you still love me if I was a worm?” They asked once more, looking into his eyes. He could tell they were being genuine by the look on their expression.

“W-Well...Ya. I’d love you in any shape or form, mayfly...but why a worm?” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked into their eyes. Even if it was the silliest question Vash had heard in his years (150 years) of living, he still wanted to give them an answer.

“...Life is filled with possibilities, Vash…Who knows, what if I turn into a worm the next day.”

Vash only laughed at this comment only to get a light jabbed on the shoulder by them as they raised their voice a little. “I’m being dead serious!”

“Even if you were to turn into a worm right now, I’d still take you alongside me and give you kisses everywhere.” He smiled proudly at his answer, even laughing at his own response since it was also silly. He can only imagine: ‘the humanoid typhoon and his soulmate…the worm.’ Even though (Y/n) tried to make this a serious conversation, they couldn’t help but let out a giggle at the big smile Vash displayed.

“...What about me? Would you still love me if I was a worm?” Vash asked, slightly blushed from the question that sounded childish to even say.

“No.”

“WHAT!?”

(Y/n) laughed by his sudden surprise. Especially on how serious he was taking the question.

“Of course, I would. And besides…Even if you’re not human, or a plant, I’d still love you regardless, because you’re everything to me.”

Vash looked into his lover’s eyes with shock then pure bliss by their responses. Even if this wasn’t the first time hearing this, it always warms his heart knowing that someone like (Y/n) would always be there by his side through thick and thin. He wrapped his arms around them and pulled them in for a hug, thanking them for loving him regardless.

Nicholas D. Wolfwood

Wolfwood leans on a metal wall of an alley, smoking a cigarette while (Y/n) sits on the floor, resting their foot from a long walk to the city they’re now in. Even if Wolfwood is a bit impatient, he’d rather have them resting instead of having to carry them on their travel. The two haven’t exchanged a word for one another, only the sound of people chatting and doing their usual business in the background. That was until (Y/n) decided that now would be a good time to ask the question that have been burning in their mind since dating him.

“Hey, Nicholas?” (Y/n) looked up at the man, meeting his eyes behind his shades.

“Hm?”

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

“...Did you lose brain cells from the heat? What the hell kind of question is that?” He looked at (Y/n) annoyed by the sudden question.

“Just answer it.” (Y/n) demanded, but the priest rolled his eyes.

“You can’t be serious. Why the hell would anyone love a worm?” He takes the cigarette out of his mouth, overall confused as to why this was even a thing to begin with. Even the mere thought of seeing the worm was enough for Wolfwood to be slightly disgusted.

“So you wouldn’t love me if I was a worm?” The sad look in (Y/n)’s eyes as Wolfwood answered a bit harshly. With both the question and the response from (Y/n), Wolfwood looked at them confused, concerned, and annoyed by this unrealistic question. He could have just flat out lied and said yes to avoid the sad look, but he didn’t want to lie either, especially towards (Y/n) on this certain matter.

“What? You expect me to say yes? …Where did you even come up with that anyway?”

(Y/n) didn’t respond to his questions that kept piling up. They decided to act as if this truly did hurt their feelings, even though it was just for their entertainment.

“I would love you if you turned into a worm, Nicholas.”

He didn’t respond or retract his answer, instead, he just rubbed his face down with one hand slowly. “...I should just charge you for every dumb question you give me…I’d have $$50,000 double dollars by now.”

“What the– Would you seriously do that to me!?”

“$$60,000 double dollars now.” He smirked, enjoying the reaction (Y/n) is now giving him. It all seems as though the worm topic was now out the window by this idea of being charged. Once the topic of both the worm and question fee was over, Wolfwood sat down next to (Y/n), throwing an arm over their shoulder and pulling them close to his side. The sudden action was just enough for (Y/n) to feel their cheeks burning up. They pressed their cheek against him as they heard a light chuckle coming from him as he looked down at them with fondness before speaking up.

“...You know I love you right?” Wolfwood asked, he faced the ground for a while before turning his full attention to his significant other. (Y/n) felt his hand on their chin, guiding them to look up into his eyes as he slowly leans in.

“....But would you–”

“For heaven's sake-”

Knives Millions

It was rare to have a long interaction with Knives as he was always keeping himself busy for his plans to set perfectly. Today was one of those days when the two could finally have a decent conversation with one another. Mostly just Knives going over what was going on with the plans, what he and Conrad have discussed, and overall how long he thinks it’ll take to get the paradise he long desired for him and his siblings….and (Y/n)...maybe? The conversation slowly dyed down which was upsetting for (Y/n). Before even thinking, they called out Knives’s attention.

“Knives, May I ask you something?” (Y/n) asked.

“You may.” Knives responded. His arms crossed, looking down at (Y/n) to see if the question was something involving his plan or maybe worse…their future.

“Would you…love me if I was a worm…?”

“...What?” He looked turned his full body towards (Y/n).

(Y/n) took a deep breath and looked into his eyes, trying to gather the courage to repeat the question once more to their intimidating partner.

“I said..Would you still love me if I was a worm?” They repeated once more, only to see that Knives held onto the expression and pose as if he was still waiting.

Silent.

Nothing but silence filled up the room. Knives only looked at (Y/n) with a blank yet annoyed expression. ‘What? Is this a human thing?’ Knives thought to himself. Didn’t even bother to answer (Y/n)’s question due to how idiotic it was.

“Kni-”

“Quiet.” Knives commanded, still baffled by the weird question that was asked. He was feared by thousands of people and killed multiple humans, and yet here he is being asked if he would still have an affectionate, romantic feeling with a worm. Pathetic.

“I don’t have time for such nonsense questions of yours. If you have nothing important to ask in regard to my plans, then I suggest you keep them to yourself.” His voice was cold and stern, both of which matched his expression. His arms remain crossed as he looks away from (Y/n). There was nothing but silence in the room once more. (Y/n) felt embarrassed for even asking that, especially towards someone like Knives who couldn’t take a joke to save his life.

“...I’ll see you later tonight…I must have a word with Conrad alone.” Knives’s words are now gentler than it was before. He walked away, leaving (Y/n) behind once more.

A bit of confusion and anxiety crept in on (Y/n). Did they screw up? Was it offensive to him? Maybe once he comes back, they can explain to him what the meaning behind it was. While (Y/n) was alone in a room, Knives invited Conrad to a separate room to discuss something important.

“You said this was urgent?” Conrad looked over at Knives as he looked down on the ground thinking about what just happened.

“...What is the meaning behind the question: “Would you still love me if I was a worm” doctor?”

#trigun stampede #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #wolfwood x reader #knives millions x reader #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #knives millions

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dejwrld · 10 months

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˚₊𓆩༺🎸༻𓆪₊˚ — summer of 22', choso kamo

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈. — LOST GUITAR PICKS AND LATE NIGHTS.

🩰 — choso and y/n spend time together after the strange events of a lost guitar pick, yuji getting arrested, and a late-night at a onigiri food stand.

ᩍ before reading please be advised of the following warnings — female reader, written with black reader in mind, her/she pronouns, humor/crack, noritoshi & choso are cousins in this cause i said so, profanity, this is quite self indulgent and kinda my own assumption & characterization of modern day choso, mentions of death (characters), mentions of broken bones, kenjaku is a hot milf in this instead of being just yuji's mom..let's pretend they're choso's mom instead of choso's dad (listen y'all know how messy kenjaku is in the canon tl), tooth rotting fluff, fast pace series, told in third pov aka choso's pov, mentions of choso having a scar, record shop boss!geto lol, | mdni, taglist, masterlist, other creations

chapter playlist | ride by twentyonepilots, cool people by chloe x halle, here by & alessia cara

CHOSO ALWAYS GOT NERVOUS WHEN HE PERFORMED IN FRONT OF PEOPLE. No matter if it was just a friend or even his kitten Retro when it was time to pick up his guitar and perform—horrible knots formed in the pit of his stomach. To make matters worse, Y/N could be coming to his show. What if he got so nervous he puked on stage or he forgot the lyrics to the song Noritoshi and himself are covering? He was just overthinking. Which soon led to the crisis that he couldn’t find his pick for his guitar. Now he had a real reason to be nervous.

As he was in the shared dressing room with Noritoshi, he would scrummage through the bag he had brought carelessly. His guitar pick wasn’t in there. He checked Noritoshi’s bag, but nothing. Now Choso was pacing back and forth in front of Noritoshi, who was their PR manager, by sending out tweets saying they were performing in fifteen minutes. “Why are you pacing back and forth? If you’re nervous, just take a deep breath and practice those breathing techniques I told you about.” Noritoshi says while never disconnecting his eyes from the iPhone in his hand.

“It’s not that.” Choso blurted out while twirling around to pace the other way. His mind was wondering what he should do. He could run back home to get it, but he wasn’t sure if his guitar pick was home. He could have dropped it. He could have left it at the records shop.

“Is it because of that girl possibly coming?” That question caused Noritoshi to break eye contact with his phone and let his eyes watch his cousin pace back and forth, but Choso did a stop abruptly to meet his gaze.

“No,” Choso admitted.

It was a lie, of course. His cheeks stained a crimson color before he kissed his teeth and went back to pacing back and forth.

Noritoshi smirks, “So, what’s the problem?”

“I can’t find my guitar pick.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s not in my bag. It’s not in your bag. I can’t find it!” Choso throws his hand up in frustration. “It’s not like we can do without it because we need my guitar.”

“Okay, now I’m nervous. Maybe, we can go get it real quick. We don’t go on until fifteen minutes from now,” He says as he stands up.

Choso's lips parted to speak, but a knock was heard on their door, and their friend Todo Aoi stuck his head through the small opening of the door. Todo was hired as security for tonight at their performing venue. Which made perfect sense considering how ripped Todo was.

“A very pretty young lady is here to see you guys. I’m quite impressed; you guys have a fan girl already,” He snickers.

“Oh shut up, Todo; before you know it—we will have so many fans. We may just hire you as our security guard.” Noritoshi says before he motions to let the person in.

Expecting to be some fan that has been following their year-long journey of being musicians, but instead, it was Y/N giving them that same smile she gave them when they first met. Noritoshi was shocked that she even came considering that Choso's hopeless romantic self had invited girls to the show, and then he moped about them not showing up for a week. Noritoshi took it upon himself to excuse himself from the equation, “I’m going to make sure the stage is all set for us.” He gives the pair a smile before leaving the dressing room.

“You came.” Choso was beyond shocked.

“You invited me to come to see you perform. I wouldn’t miss it, plus it’s weird how the world works, considering my godmother is here too with some of her friends.” She shrugs. “Which one of her friends is your boss,” Y/N explains.

“Wow, kinda seems like we were meant to meet eventually,” Choso chuckles.

“Yeah.” Y/N agrees with a smile on her face.

The two of them stood in front of each other, just basking in each other's looks. Y/N couldn’t keep her eyes off seeing Choso in the attire he was wearing tonight and Choso couldn’t do the same. It finally hit Y/N that she wasn’t back here to dawn over how attractive the singer looked in front of her but to give him something that Geto gave to her. She looked through the mini purse that was hanging from her shoulder and pulled out his guitar pick.

“He said you left it in his office,” Y/N places it in his hand. “Geto also said you two should not be so reckless with leaving your music gear everywhere in his office.”

“Ah! That sounds like something he would say. Who else is here with him?” He asked. “Is a pink-haired guy with him. He's around this tall, and has a scar on his face.” Choso holds his hand up trying to remember how tall his younger brother was.

“No, it’s just myself, my godmother, your boss, and another one of their friends.” Y/N’s lips form a straight line once she sees the disappointment in Choso’s face.

“Ah, thank you,” Choso says. “I should continue getting ready, thanks for bringing me this.” He holds up the guitar pick.

Y/N smiled at him before she left the dressing room just in time for Noritoshi to collect him. “Let’s blow the roof off this place!” He exclaimed as he picked up his drumsticks and wrapped his arm around Choso’s shoulder.

Choso knew they would do well. They always did in every gig they managed to snag. It may not have gained them some record deal, but it was decent enough to get the crowd hyped and cheering for them at the end. Especially when they had retired rockstar Geto Suguru vouching for them. Noritoshi liked to joke that a lot of people only came to their gigs because Geto never missed one. No matter what, he would always be in the crowd. Simply because he was searching for any flaws in their performance. It would be something subtle like they need to practice their breath control and they wouldn’t be so out of breath by the time the third song or they were a little off-key and not synchronized as a singing duo. Choso appreciated the criticism—after all, it was Grammy award-winning Geto Suguru giving them tips. He couldn’t just brush them under the wrong as if they were nothing.

But deep down, Choso just wanted his younger brother to be in the crowd of this show. It wasn’t as if Choso cared about Yuji showing up because the pink-haired guy has sat through many practices and gigs with about four people (including himself)—but Choso could keep a closer eye on him. Just make sure he wasn’t in some type of trouble.

He stood behind the curtains as he could hear the host announce who was next, he closed his eyes, mumbling some form of words of encouragement to himself. As soon as he heard the crowd go crazy, he would push himself on the stage with Noritoshi. The bright light blinded him from seeing the crowd, but he always thought it was better for him to get over stage fright. Choso couldn’t help but scan the crowd for his brother, but still, he wasn’t there. His dark-colored eyes landed on Y/N and his lips curved into a smile seeing the glimmer in her eyes. He watches as her lip gloss-covered lips form into a smile making eye contact with him before mouthing to him.

“You got this.” He read her lips.

The rest of the performance was history as he could hear the sound of Noritoshi’s drums. When the two performed, it felt like a burst of energy that Choso couldn’t quite explain. It was like an adrenaline rush after going skydiving. The high after taking a drug. It was a magical feeling that Choso wanted to experience every time he discovered that he loved music.

Choso and Noritoshi joined the group and were met with applause. Geto was the first to speak with a smile on his face,” You guys are improving. Took note of my breath control tips.” He says as he sips from his beer.

“Of course, we wouldn’t have heard the last of it—if we didn’t,” Noritoshi gives Geto a sly grin. “I’m going to go get me something to drink.”

Geto checks the time on his phone, “I’m heading out to pick up the twins. Don’t be late for your shift tomorrow morning,” His finger pointed at Choso.

“Yeah, I should get going also. Don’t stay out too late, Y/N. You have a class to teach tomorrow,” Utahime hugs Y/N, and she eyes Choso up and down before walking with Geto and them to the exit.

“Did she give you a look when she hugged me?” Y/N asked as she sat in the seat that Utahime was formally sitting in.

“She did,” Choso admitted, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“She does that with all the guys I’m interested in.” She shrugs her shoulders carelessly. “She can be protective sometimes, but it’s only because I believe my mom gave her a detailed letter to do so.”

Choso's brains seem to stop at the thought of her mentioning guys she’s interested in. Did he make it so obvious that he was interested in Y/N that others could notice it? He sits across from her before speaking again, “I assume that she and your mother are close?” Choso asked.

“Yeah, two peas in a pod, according to Utahime.”

“It’s a small world, you know. We were bound to meet.” Choso leans forward with a grin that Y/N returns.

“Kinda like fate,” She’s leaning forward also, and Choso could get a whiff of her sweet flowery perfume that caused him to smile even harder.

His lips parted to speak, but the sound of his cell phone interrupted him. “I’m sorry, I have to take this. It’s probably my brother.” He excuses himself just in time for Noritoshi to join the table.

He walked to the side away from the table and pulled the phone to his ear. If the singer was going, to be honest, he didn’t even know the number that called him. He had this thing where he still answered unknown numbers because what if it was some music producer trying to contact him or something? The dread that hit his heart hearing his brother's voice on the other end. “What the hell Itadori? You know if you weren’t going to show, you could have given me a heads up on your whereabouts.”

“I got caught up in something,” Yuji’s voice trails off as he doesn't know how to explain to his brother the trouble he is currently in.

“Where the hell are you currently calling me from? I don’t recognize the number.” Choso points out. His nostrils flared in annoyance because he knew the answer Yuji was about to give him was going to piss him off even more.

“You have to promise to not get upset before I tell you because getting upset doesn’t solve anything. Just give you gray hairs and wrinkles at an early age. Which wouldn’t be a good look considering that you want to be this famous rockstar.” Yuji went rambling on.

“Fuckin’ tell me,” Choso exclaimed through gritted teeth.

“Police station. Currently getting my one phone call. They gave me a warning but said they would prefer for someone to pick me up. Mr. Nanami didn’t answer, so I’m calling you.”

Choso could sense that his brother had some nervous smile on his face on the other end. He knew that he called his boss Nanami Kento first because Nanami would just give him a lecture and go on about his business. Choso wouldn’t have found out that his younger brother missed his performance because he was at a police station. That if Choso was to ask him where he was tonight; he'd come up with a perfect lie just for Choso to brush it off.

“I’m on my way, I just have to ask Noritoshi if he can pack up by himself,” Choso answered. His eyes glances over at Noritoshi and Y/N talking, Noritoshi had brought her a drink from the bar.

Choso drags his feet across the floor in disappointed strides back to the duo. Noritoshi who was sipping from his pint of beer eyebrows narrowed at Choso’s long face. He knew his cousin so well that he knew something was wrong. With another huge gulp, Noritoshi clasp his hands together. “I’ll pack up and take it back to Suguru’s.”

“You’re a lifesaver. I’ll keep you posted on what’s going on.” Choso responds as Noritoshi collects his glass and went towards the backstage area.

Choso’s brown colored traveled to Y/N who was happily sipping at the fruity drink Noritoshi brought over. His eyes glossed with an apologetic look before he start speaking, “I’m sorry. But I have to go. My younger brother got himself in some trouble and I have to dig him out.” He rubs at the back of his neck before speaking. “I wanted to hang out with you a bit longer.”

With a precious smile, she says, “Then let’s go dig out your brother together.”

The older Choso that formerly used ‘well, I’m in a band’ his way into pussy—cock would twitch in whatever pair of dark-washed ripped jeans he wore. But this was new Choso. The responsible big brother who took his love life seriously because he wanted to be a good example for his younger brother. That meant not thinking with his cock that was in between his toned thighs and actually thinking with his brain. His brain would tell him, this isn’t a good idea. The two of them just met and she was about to meet his brother, who has a perfect life ahead of him but doesn’t have his head screwed on correctly. It wasn’t a good idea, she didn’t need to see the chaos in his life so soon.

“No, you do not need to come with me to just go lecture my brother’s head off.” He leans against the table a bit and gives her a dry chuckle. “That would be such a shitty first date.”

Y/N’s eyebrows raised at his words. Her fingers twirled the miniature umbrella in her fruity cocktail that Noritoshi wanted her to try ever so much. “Oh, so you were going to ask me out on a date?” Her teeth nibbled on her lips and once again Choso’s cock twitched in his pants.

No, she definitely can’t go with him to go get Yuji. Instead of having to worry about Yuji saying something stupid or doing something stupid. He needed to worry about himself. He craved a bit more seeing the way her mouth moves. Frankly, it was a bit unhealthy for him to even have these thoughts running in his mouth. After all, the two only just met last week. He didn’t even have the woman’s number. But dared to think about how she’ll look when she’s coming down from the best orgasm.

“Something like that. I did say we have three months to get to know each other.” He flirts back as if they were the only ones that mattered in the world. “But, I don’t think it’s fair for our first date to be of us babysitting my younger brother.”

Choso watched as she stood up fixing her jean skirt that hugged her lower half so perfectly. She took a couple more sips from her drink before grabbing a hold of Choso’s wrist and dragging him towards the exit and right by a curious Todo.

“Well, good thing you have three months to make up for the first date.” She giggles so beautifully that Choso felt himself blushing.

He simply knew because for some reason in his twenty-two years of living, when he blushed it never showed on his cheeks. Instead, the tips of his pierced ears would glow the lightest shade of crimson. Practically feel like they were burning off his fuckin’ head.

“The station isn’t that far away if you don’t mind the walk,” Choso pointed out. “Maybe fifteen minutes at most.” He checked his phone and then back at her.

“Lead the way.”

With that, the two started their walk toward the police station. Now that Y/N was with Chosos, he couldn’t angrily chew Yuji’s head off and threaten to kick his ass if he get arrested again. Instead, he’ll take a smoother approach. A cool Choso approach. He’ll talk calmly to him and figure out why he was there in the first place. He’ll make Yuji apologize and then they’ll go home.

“So, your brother? How old is he?” Y/N breaks Choso’s inner monologue of what he was going to say to Yuji.

“Eighteen and a pain in my ass.” Choso huffs. “Do you have any siblings?”

“I’m an only child.” Y/N points out. “It gets a bit lonely, so I guess that’s the reason why I decided to tag along. It’s nice to see you go help your brother out even if he gets himself in trouble.”

“Yeah, I figure it can get lonely. But I bet you were spoiled rotten,” He nudges at her shoulder.

“I mean yeah, but since my mom isn’t here anymore—my father was not hearing none of that.” Y/N chuckles to herself.

“I’m sorry for your lost.”

Silence overcame the two as they were walking down the street. Choso is on the side closest to the road like a gentleman. They walked ever so close together that occasionally their arms would brush against each other. He didn’t know what else to say. He experienced loss but didn’t particularly have the proper time to grieve due to the responsibility of taking care of Yuji being shoved upon him.

“I want to say that I grieved properly, but you never know when you fully heal,” Y/N speaks. “I’m doing something my mom was good at and I didn’t even get to meet her. So every time I do it, I think about her.” She grows quiet before letting out an embarrassed chuckle. “Sorry, for the trauma dumping.”

That silence returned, but it wasn’t a bad silence for Choso. It was a comfortable one that he could sit in for days. He glances over at her and the once cheery smile on her face disappears and an embarrassed look plastered on her face. He had a feeling she probably thought she overshared, but he didn’t mind. He wanted to get to know her. He wanted to peel off all the layers of her until she was bare—he wanted to know every layer no matter how thin or thick, no matter how traumatic or glorious. When he said they had three months to get to know each other, he meant it.

“Thank you.” Choso breaks the silence finally.

“For what?” Y/N’s eyebrows scrunched together to glance at him.

“For being comfortable enough to tell me that about you.” His lips curve into a smile. “I did say we have three months to get to know each other.” He reminds her.

“You did and you won’t let me forget about it,” Y/N says. “Now, it’s your time. Share something about yourself. It doesn’t have to be as deep as what I said.”

“Hm.” Choso thought for a second. “I’m a good skateboarder.” He adds. “Which caused me to break my arm.”

“Jesus Christ, did it hurt?” Y/N’s face was laced with concern as she followed next to Choso.

“I didn’t even notice or feel anything until I saw Noritoshi about to vomit at the sight of my arm just dangling like a wet ramen noodle,” Choso adds. “I kinda wish you were there to sign my cast though.” His lips formed a pout that made Y/N giggle.

That giggle made old Choso's cock twitch in his jeans again.

Get yourself together Choso. You’re acting like a hornball that hasn’t been laid in years.

“Please don’t break your arm just so I can sign your arm cast. It’s too hot to be wearing a cast also.” Y/N fans herself with her hand and Choso finally realized just how humid it was outside.

Japan’s summer was lethal if you weren’t used to it. But he just thought his sudden increase in body heat was due to how close he was to her. It didn’t cross his mind that it was due to the weather.

“I won’t. I can’t take you out with an ugly arm cast on anyway.” He says as he stopped in front of the police station.

“That is true, but I wouldn't mind at all.” She steps into the police station after he holds the door open for her.

When they stepped into the police station, it felt like one of those movie scenes where so much was going on at once. Officers scattered around trying to defuse the situation. Some take statements of people reporting crimes. Some tried to break up civilians who were close to chewing each other's heads off. Through the crowd of chaos, Choso spotted his nitwit of a brother sitting near one of the officers desking munching on snacks as if he were in paradise. Choso saw the spray paint on his fingertips and his clothing and immediately knew what type of trouble Yuji got himself in, again.

“I’ll just go sit down right there and wait for you two.” Y/N motions to the empty set of chairs near the entrance.

“Okay,” Choso flashes an apologetic smile before he’s letting his feet drag towards his brother who was giving the officer that Choso knew from the back of his head.

“Officer Kusakabe!” Choso exclaimed, causing the pair to turn for him.

“It’s Detective now,” Atsuya Kusakabe corrected as he folded his arms across his chest.

“Right, Detective.” Choso firmly says. “Thanks for letting him get off on a warning, again,” Choso responds. “I promise to have him send a very long apology letter for the inconvenience.” His eyes glared at Yuji who slumped in his seat at the words of an apology letter.

“Don’t even bother, I have caught on to this idiot copying and pasting the same letter. Just changing about one or two words.” The detective rolls his eyes. “But next time, he won’t just get a slap on the wrist because I may not be in here to save his ass again.”

“And what did he do this time?”

“Try to tag up some buildings,” Kusakabe explained. “They caught him right in the act. Spray cans in his hands and all, he still denied it.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Now get the hell out of here before I change my mind.” He tapped the desk and stood up to walk towards his office.

Choso couldn’t help but glare at his brother before scoffing and walking away. Yuji follows behind quickly, rambling on about how he won’t do it again. But Choso knew his brother, he’ll do it again. He was addicted to this—addicted to the feeling of getting his hand caught in the cookie jar. Choso didn’t understand why because it wasn’t like this before His grandfather died. It wasn’t like this when their mom was in the picture. Choso just didn’t understand the sudden flip of personality. It wasn’t like Yuji didn’t have much compared to maybe the average delinquent—he was interning for Nanami Kento. He was a good artist, also. But for some reason, he was an adrenaline junkie for shit that didn’t even benefit him.

Choso stopped in front of Y/N and felt Yuji crash into his backside at the sudden stop. “Let’s go, Y/N.”

When Yuji saw Y/N, the once puppy dog look of sympathy went away as he smiled at her—waving and then looking at his brother with a knowing look. Y/N stands up to follow the brothers out of the police station and then that was when Choso erupted like a volcano that hasn’t blown lava in years. His fist was clenched tightly.

“Tagging a building? Really Itadori?! You’re about to attend one of the best universities with one of the best art programs in Japan.” Choso points out. “You don’t need to do this. You have a good internship that pays you…I can’t keep bailing you out of every situation you put yourself into. Why are you doing this? Is it because of her?”

Yuji’s jaw clenched at those last words. That pierced his skin so quickly that he didn’t even know how to react other than agitation from the night heat and the fact that Choso was completely embarrassing him in front of a girl he hadn't even seen before. Hell, Choso has introduced him to countless girls—all of them a complete blur to Yuji.

He ignored his brother's questions and his attention fell on Y/N, who awkwardly stood there while her eyes were darting between the two brothers. Yuji stepped towards her and extended his hand for her to shake, “I’m Yuji Itadori, his brother.”

Y/N shakes his hand, “Y/N. I think I’m going to head home now, it seems you two need to talk some things out.” She points out before her fingers ran through her braids.

“I didn��t mean to intrude on you two—uh, date. So, I’m heading to Megumi’s. It was nice meeting you,” He flashes a grin before walking away before Choso can utter another word.

Through a glare of frustration and anger, Choso watches his younger brother disappear in the bliss of night as he walked in the direction of his Megumi’s house. They’ll have this talk when they get a chance. He’ll dig him out of trouble again because that’s what a big brother does. While they tiptoe over the simple fact that their mother didn’t want anything to do with them—their relationship was always going to be at odds.

“Shouldn’t you go after him?” Y/N questions as she steps forward to close the gap between herself and Choso.

“Why should I? We’ll only yell at each other.” Choso pointed out.

“You two should sit down and talk though.” She points out. “You shouldn’t go to sleep angry at someone you truly care about,” Y/N adds.

Choso never thought about it that way. The two brothers spent so many nights having a screaming match that he didn’t notice they never actually talked to each other. There was a huge ass elephant in the room and neither one of them wanted to address it.

He thumbs at his lip in deep thought before looking at her with a grin, “Are you hungry?” He asks just as his stomach grumbles in hunger.

“Don’t try to change the subject—” Y/N words were interrupted by the sound of her stomach. Her cheek heats in embarrassment before finishing her comment, “It’s so late, where are we going to find food?”

“You know, I’m so used to picking that brother of mine up from here. I found some hidden gems,” He extends his hand for her to take. “So, please let thee, Choso Kamo feed you.”

Y/N laughs at his words and takes his hand. “Lead the way before I die of hunger.” She let him drag her down a couple of blocks until they are in front of this onigiri restaurant.

Although it was around the time for nightclub stragglers to be tumbling out of clubs, the street food vendor had customers waiting in line for the savory food they sold. There were tables outside for people to enjoy their late-night snack under the Summer moonlight. As Choso grabbed some food, Y/N sat at one of the tables.

“You finally brought a girl for me to meet, you little shit!” The owner of the shop Ren exclaimed as he leaned against the counter.

“Do you have to yell that so loud? I don’t want to scare her away.” Choso dark colored eyes glance at Y/N at the table on her phone. “I actually like this one.”

“When did you meet her?” Ren asked as he was fixing Choso his usual.

“Not that long ago,” Choso admits and Ren stops mid-chop. “I mean, is that a bad thing to say? I just feel a real connection between us.”

“You sure you’re not thinking with your dick and balls?” Ren bluntly admitted raising his eyebrows at the young man in front of him.

“I’m thinking with my brain, heart, and dick.” Choso proudly admits with some childish lovesick smile on his face. “This one is on the house, right?” His head motions to the plate of onigiri.

“Of course,” Ren says while wiping his hands on the hand towel that was flung over his shoulder. “Oh yeah, that time when you and Noritoshi were drunk off your ass. You forgot your skateboard.” He walks around the counter to push the skateboard toward Choso.

“I thought I lost this damn thing,” Choso responds.

He had even brought a new board and all, but due to Noritoshi and his strict music-making schedule—he haven’t used it yet. With the food in one hand and skateboard under his arm, Choso made his way back to Y/N just in time for her to get off the phone. He had a suspicion that it was Utahime asking where Y/N was, but the look on Y/N’s face said the opposite. When she talked with Utahime, her face glowed with happiness. But this look was the complete opposite. It felt like a rainy cloud was suddenly hung over her head and when she saw Choso, her forced smile was like her putting an umbrella up so he wouldn’t get wet.

“Everything okay?” Choso questioned as he sat down across from her after placing everything down.

“Just my dad, being my dad,” Y/N explains before leaning forward. “I told myself, I was going to let him ruin my summer with his shenanigans.” She sighs.

“But he did.” Choso leans forward also, his elbows resting on the table. “And I don’t like that.”

Y/N grabs one of the onigiri and takes a bite out of it. Her eyes enlarge and she moans at the taste before swallowing. “I now understand why it’s so many here at this place at this time.”

“You’re changing the subject.” He points out while he picks up his share of the food.

“Now you see how I felt earlier.” She says. “It’s just he’s so protective for no exact reason—well, correction for a reason that I’m not even aware of. But I think it’s connected to my mom.”

“But didn’t you say your mom passed away,” Choso says.

“She did when I was like a baby. Hardly got to meet the lady, but she somehow passed her dancing genes down to me.” She laughs and Choso couldn’t help but smile. “I’m not even sure how she passed, no one talks about it. I can’t even find an article about it.”

“Not even Utahime?” Choso bites into his food.

“I haven’t talked about it with her.” She shrugs her shoulders. “I just chalked it up as they’ll tell me when they think I’m ready. I don’t know, bringing it up when I suppose to be focusing on dance right now—isn’t a good idea.”

“No distractions.” Choso points out with a shit-eating grin.

“Yeah, no distractions.” She repeats making eye contact with the long-haired male in front of her. “But on a lighter note, how come it’s only you and Noritoshi in your band?”

“Because we haven’t found the right members,” Choso says. “We want a third member, preferably a bass player. Just haven’t found the right person that fits our vibe. But, Suguru has been helping us with that. We have a new employee starting at the record shop next week and he thinks they play bass guitar.”

“You think they’re any good?” Y/N asked him.

Choso shrugged. “Suguru’s very picky on who he wants to work at his shop, so he must see something special in them.”

“Speaking of him, he looks so familiar…” Her voice trails off as she tried to remember when she saw Geto’s face at.

“Yeah, he was some famous rock artist until he adopted his manager’s daughters and decide that the rockstar life no longer is for him,” Choso explained. “He still has many people approaching him up to this day. But I think most know that he just wants to live a normal life again.”

“That makes sense. Especially considering that he has the twins to raise now.” Y/N smiles. “That’s sweet of them, he wants them to have a normal life out of the spotlight.”

Y/N eyes travel down to the skateboard next to Choso’s foot and she looks at him, “Is this the one you fell off of and broke your arm?”

Choso glances at the board and then at her and nods, “Yup. Want to try it?”

“For me to break a bone? No. Plus I don’t know shit about skateboarding.” She laughs before shaking her head. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“I’m not going to let my pretty little ballerina break some bones.” He pushes himself out of the seat and places the skateboard further out away from the table. “Come on, you trust me right?”

“Despite us not knowing each other for that long…oddly enough, I do.” She stands out and stands in front of him.

The two of them were only inches apart, the space in between them was the single skateboard on the ground. The two made eye contact and Choso felt the tip of his ears grow hot and he knew they were as red as a ripe tomato. He wanted Y/N, he wanted Y/N so bad.

“Oddly enough, I think I may have some fuckin’ crush on you.”

Those words stung Choso’s tongue because he never actually did crushes, hell—he didn’t even bother to invest in a relationship. But here he was admitting to having some crush on a girl that he most likely won’t see after the summer was over.

“And, you don’t have to respond to that now. But just know that if any guy catches your attention this summer. They’ll have to get through me and have major competition.”

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tags. @maydayaisha @spiderpunkfien @bbytamaki@honeybleed @luvliv4lifexoxo @smileyy-cakee@hoohoohope @theclassbookworm

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thanks for reading. <3

#choso kamo x reader #choso kamo fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #female reader #anime x reader #black reader #x black reader #jjk x black reader #choso kamo x black reader #angelshubnetwork #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

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ineffablecastielsstuff · 3 months

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I've been walking around with an idea for a Good Omens AU "human - teachers" slowly taking shape in my head for a while but it was never clear or urgent enough to actually put pen to paper. Yesterday though I finally started writing again and I have this familiar feeling of "I need to write this, I need to see their journey, I need to see them happy in the end!" Yay! I have missed that feeling so much since finishing my GO long fic!

I won't start publishing before I'm not a little further into writing it, but I needed to shout somewhere that I am back at writing. Hope you'll understand! Here's a little unpolished snippet of what I've written today:

"Seems like you’n’I are the only ones left,“ he suddenly heard a drawl from behind his chair. He turned, and his brain needed a few moments to take in the sight in front of him.

[...]

"Uhm. Well, yes. It appears so,“ Aziraphale finally replied. Then he held out his hand. "Aziraphale Fell,“ he said, since he wasn’t entirely sure that Mr Crowley would know him by name.

"Yeah, I know who you are,“ he replied, waving a hand nearly dismissively and ignoring Aziraphale’s offer of a handshake, "you’re the English guy, doing the plays and getting the kids to read. Always catch at least one of the year 8s reading under the table when they come from your class.“

Aziraphale wasn’t quite sure if this was meant as a compliment or a complaint so he kept his mouth shut and waited.

"Anthony Crowley. Just call me Crowley though. Never liked Anthony,“ Crowley continued with a smirk.

"Delighted to meet you, Crowley,“ Aziraphale said, biting his tongue immediately after those words had left his mouth. Make an even bigger fool of yourself, why don’t you, he scolded himself internally. Crowley’s smile widened.

"Aw, there’s still people out here talking like that, ey? Or did you drop out of one of those 19th century novels? Or just read too many of them?“, Crowley shot him a teasing look that left Aziraphale slightly breathless.

"As you might have noticed, I said delighted to meet you. Not delighted to make your acquintance, which would have been the proper reply during the 19th century. Seems like I should lend you some books as well,“ Aziraphale took Crowley’s remark in stride and raised his eyebrow. Aziraphale rarely needed more than a pointed look and a raised eyebrow to tell a student that they were toeing a line, and he couldn’t help but tease Crowley with his best teacher look. It seemed to work.

"Ngk.“

"Maybe reading would help with your vocabulary as well.“

At that, Crowley threw his head back and gave a full body laugh.

"Oh, here I thought I’d have a little defenseless angel as my partner, but turns out you can be quite the bastard, can’t you?!,“ he roared, delighted.

"I reckon that no angel would ever be defenseless, with the heavenly powers backing them up,“ Aziraphale remarked. He had never expected to stand here, bantering with Anthony J. Crowley, but he was really enjoying himself doing just that.

"True,“ Crowley replied, biting back on the laughter. „Angel it is then, and we won’t mention the bastard side of you ever again. Now let’s compare timetables to get those bloody lesson observations out of the way.“

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #fanfiction #writing #ao3

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imakemywings · 1 year

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Why Ship Eärendil/Elwing?

I think there are a lot of good reasons so let’s have a look (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

1. They have a lot in common. Both of them went through pretty traumatic events as children that involved being driven from their homes by an attacking force, losing family to that attacking force (Eärendil’s grandfather, Elwing’s parents and her brothers), and ending up refugees. They’re also at this point the only Peredhil in Middle-earth. There are a lot of difficult experiences they share, which allows them to understand each other on a level people without those experiences can’t as well.

2. They grew up together. They grew up in the Havens at Sirion and childhood-friends-to-lovers is a fire trope as far as I’m concerned. It’s very possible they played together as kids and they were there through each other’s awkward adolescent phases and talked each other through other crushes before they finally got together.

3. They obviously care about each other. We don’t see the details of a lot of marriages in The Silmarillion. Many of them are left wholly to the imagination as to how those characters acted around each other, but Eärendil and Elwing are explicitly devoted to each other.

“Eärendil found not Tuor nor Idril, nor came he ever on that journey to the shores of Valinor, defeated by shadows and enchantment. driven by repelling winds, until in longing for Elwing he turned homeward....” (Emphasis added)

Eärendil attempting his first voyage to Valinor is beset by all kinds of dangers, but it’s missing Elwing that finally makes him turn back and call this trip a bust.

“For Ulmo bore up Elwing out of the waves, and he gave her the likeness of a great white bird, and upon her breast there shone as a star the Silmaril, as she flew over the water to seek Eärendil her beloved.” (Emphasis added)

Beloved remains one of the peak terms of endearment, lbr.

“Then Eärendil, first of living Men, landed on the immortal shores...And Eärendil said to [his companions]: ‘Here none but myself shall set foot, lest you fall under the wrath of the Valar. But that peril I will take on myself alone, for the sake of the Two Kindreds.’

But Elwing answered: ‘Then would our paths be sundered for ever; but all thy perils I will take on myself also.’ And she leaped into the white foam and ran towards him...”

Elwing really said “if you’re damned then I will be too.” Here she accepts Eärendil’s fate, just as Eärendil later accepts hers and chooses the Elven path.

“But when all was spoken, Manwë gave judgement, and he said: ‘In this matter the power of doom is given to me. The peril that he ventured for love of the Two Kindreds shall not fall upon Eärendil, nor shall it fall upon Elwing his wife, who entered into peril for love of him...” (Emphasis added)

Even the Valar recognize how much these two care about each other!

“And at times, when Eärendil returning drew near again to Arda, she [Elwing] would fly to meet him, even as she had flown long ago, when she was rescued from the sea. Then the far-sighted among the Elves that dwelt in the Lonely Isle would see her like a white bird, shining, rose-stained in the sunset, as she soared in joy to greet the coming of Vingilot to haven.” (Emphasis added)

After their journey, even in spite of all their grief, they still find joy in one another. Their marriage is still strong even through everything they’ve seen.

4. They saved Middle-earth together. These two did what no one else had managed and sailed back to the Blessed Realm to get help for Middle-earth. Clearly, power couple moves.

”Yet Eärendil saw now no hope left in the lands of Middle-earth, and he turned again in despair and came not home, but sought back once more to Valinor with Elwing at his side.”

Friendly remind this journey is supposed to be impossible, but they are determined to do it because they know Middle-earth cannot survive without the intercession of the Valar.

“Few of the Teleri were willing to go forth to war, for they remembered the slaying at the Swanhaven, and the rape of their ships; but they hearkened to Elwing...and they sent mariners enough to sail the ships that bore the hose of Valinor east over the sea.”

But for Elwing, the Teleri would not have engaged in the war effort at all; she alone convinced them to help.

“But Eärendil came, shining with white flame, and about Vingilot were gathered all the great birds of heaven and Thorondor was their captain, and there was battle in the air all day and through a dark night of doubt. But before the rising of the sun Eärendil slew Ancalagon the Black, the mightiest of the dragon-host, and cast him down from the sky...”

From start to finish Eärendil and Elwing have been committed to saving Middle-earth from Melkor’s menace and boy do they see it through.

5. Eärendil chooses immortality to stay with Elwing. In a mirror of Beren and Lúthien’s story, Eärendil surrenders a mortal fate to stay joined with Elwing.

“Then Eärendil said to Elwing: ‘Choose thou, for now I am weary of the world.’ And Elwing chose to be judged among the Firstborn Children of Ilúvatar, because of Lúthien; and for her sake Eärendil chose alike...”

Eärendil both trusts Elwing to make this choice for both of them and makes the same choice as her even though it isn’t his first preference.

6. Eärendil named his boat, which becomes the immortal vessel in which he sails through the skies, after Elwing. Can we say romance?

7. Elwing gives Eärendil the Silmaril. In general, most people who get their hands on a Silmaril are not keen to give it up. Yet Elwing passes the Silmaril onto Eärendil without a fuss and never again takes possession of it.

8. Their super rad mythological couple energy. Half-Elven couple who braved the sea to voyage to a realm it was supposed to be impossible for them to find to bring back divine help for their home? Last queen of the forest kingdom who in her moment of greatest despair is lifted up by divine forces and transformed? Hero of the last bastion of the Elves in Middle-earth who uses his mariner skills to make an impossible voyage, bearing back a jewel thought lost forever? Former Elven queen who now abides in a white tower on the sea and talks to birds and transforms into a bird herself to fly up to greet the return of her husband? Immortal captain of a flying ship that slew a dragon and now keeps watch over the stars? They are killing it y’all.

Feel free to add on o(*￣▽￣*)ブ

All quotes in this post are from the “Of the Voyage of Eärendil and the War of Wrath” chapter of The Silmarillion!

Convinced? Not convinced? Try these fanfic recs under the cut:

At the Water’s Edge by crackinthecup - G - 3,349 - Eärrámë is nearly ready to sail. Tuor and Idril’s days at the Havens of Sirion are drawing to an end. It is a time of loss and hope for all, and Elwing is no exception.

Elwing, Survivor by crownlessliestheking - T - Elwing and Earendil after arriving in Valinor.

From the Ones Who Came Before by Krita - T - 5,247 - Elwing was young when Menegroth fell. Melian's line is complicated, but far more so is growing into yourself.

A Glimpse of the Harbor by me - G - 1,925 - Elwing watched for the return of Earendil's ship.

How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful by mochimilku - T - 1,185 - Eärendil, Elwing, and the ocean.

Let Us Taunt Old Care with a Merry Air / And Sing in the Face of Ill by me - G - 643 - When Elwing lands in the Havens, she befriends a young princeling from Gondolin.

The One With All the Birds by clothono - G - 46,543 - Elwing and Nerdanel in Valinor in the Fourth Age; a story about children coming home.

So Summer Comes by potatoesanddreams - G - 2,654 - Ada said he would be home by autumn equinox. It is winter solstice now.

Untitled by simaethae - G - E-squared family fluff.

#elwing #earendil #the silmarillion #meta #tolkien tag #let me just be clear I do not want to hear about why you think they were terrible #or why you want to portray them as shit parents #this is not the post for that #I am trying to be positive dammit #starwing #earendil x elwing #mine #earendil defense #elwing defense

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gardigansandkarma · 6 months

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Travis Kelce Opens Up About Taylor Swift and What Comes Next

Wall Street Journal - Travis Kelce full article under the cut

A few months ago, he was merely football famous. Now Travis Kelce is ready to tell his story. ‘I’ve never dated anyone with that kind of aura about them.’

By J.R. Moehringer

WHEN TRAVIS KELCE was a young man, his college football coach pulled him aside one day and told him the secret of life: Everybody you meet in this world is either a fountain or a drain.

“I need fountains,” the coach growled at Kelce. “I don’t need f—ing drains. Travis, you’re f—ing draaaining me!”

The advice left a deep impression. (“Changed his life,” says one of Kelce’s closest friends.) Yes, Kelce thought—you’re either a giver of the basic wellsprings of life or a thirsty taker. He vowed to be the former. In a world of gutters, be a geyser.

You think about that story as Kelce drives you around his beloved Kansas City, home of his world-champion Chiefs, for whom he’s the star tight end and arguably the second-most popular player, after his best friend, quarterback Patrick Mahomes. You think about that story on a gorgeous autumn afternoon as Kelce gives you a personal tour of his decadelong history in this city, his singular journey from clueless rook to legend. (“I used to take this scenic route [to the stadium]—there’s just something about seeing the city you’re about to go represent….”)

A different sort of celebrity might be more guarded, might even chirp those big Rolls tires and speed away before someone throws their body across the luminous silver bonnet, but Kelce’s default emotion is this—exuberant extroversion. He likes people. Loves people. Never mind deciding not to be a drain. If people gush at him, he can’t help it, he gushes back.

Noting all this, you think how fame itself might be a kind of fountain. Some people moan about getting wet, others frolic like kids around a hydrant. You even wonder if this fountain-drain paradigm might be the skeleton key to Kelce, the Rosetta Stone for which half of America seems to be hunting right now.

Kelce was famous for several years, thanks to his Hall of Fame résumé, his symbiotic relationship with Mahomes, but that was just football famous. This year, after winning the Super Bowl, after hosting Saturday Night Live, after starring in all the commercials, Kelce became inescapable. And that was before—you know.

People have begun to ask in all earnestness why they can’t turn on their TV anymore without seeing Kelce’s sculpted mug. They wonder, not with snark, but in all sincerity: Who the frick is this guy? And where did he come from?

You have a TV. You wonder too. So you decide to join the search for answers. One weekend, in the thick of football season, you get on a plane to Kansas City.

BUT FIRST. Back up. Like that knucklehead who threw it into reverse, go back. Before you can take the Travis Michael Kelce Guided Tour, you need to watch him cry.

Kelce tries to play it off. He launches a sentence, stops. He launches another, again aborts. He paws his eyes with his giant hands and looks to be on the verge of losing it, because if Kelce loves people, what he really loves is his people.

This whole display takes place on a Monday afternoon at a Kansas City steakhouse, where you and Kelce are having an early dinner. Like, retirement-community early. He’s in recovery mode, healing from dozens of violent collisions sustained during the previous day’s win over division rival Los Angeles, and food is medicine. He can intuit when he’s hit the caloric sweet spot necessary to mend or maintain his 6-foot-5, 260-pound frame (roughly 4,000), and he’s not there yet. So he orders the dry-aged filet rubbed with coffee, Caesar salad (hold the anchovies), a side of “triple-cooked” fries and a glass of water.

After a long pause, and several Lamaze breaths, Kelce collects himself, apologizes. Can’t help it, he says; those folks who always have his back, who call him by the ancient secret nicknames (Big Yeti, El Travedor, Killatrav, Michael, etc.)—they’re everything. He doesn’t think of them as his entourage; he thinks of them as family, an extension of “Mama Kelce” and “Poppa Kelce” and older brother Jason, the starting center for the Philadelphia Eagles.

Patrick Bacon, a friend since first grade, says Kelce’s go-to method of winding down after a hard game or long day is to sit with this “core group” around his kitchen island and chop it up. Talk, that’s what nourishes Kelce, not videogames, not bottle service at some club.

“He loves to talk about the old days,” Bacon says. But it has to be with people from the old days. People who know that Kelce will sometimes dismiss a bad or subpar thing as “buns.” People who know that one of Kelce’s favorite desserts is French toast dripping with whipped cream and syrup. People who know that, growing up, he played every sport in Cleveland Heights, Ohio, and also know the difference between Cleveland Heights and Cleveland proper. You want to break into the Kelce core group? You better have a phone number that starts with 216.

And yet, you wonder how well his friends really know him, how well he lets anyone know him, because to a person they all say Trav lives in the moment, Trav never thinks about tomorrow, Trav never worries about retirement, despite recently turning 34, making him a Gollum in the NFL, whereas Kelce confesses that he thinks about it nonstop, “more than anyone could ever imagine.” In the same spirit, perhaps, he keeps his own counsel about his round-the-clock physical anguish. “That’s the only thing I’ve never really been open about,” he says, “the discomfort. The pain. The lingering injuries—the 10 surgeries I’ve had that I still feel every single surgery to this day.”

Kansas City’s longtime tight ends coach, Tom Melvin, says Kelce undersells the pain because the alternative is not playing, and the man will not miss games. “He has phenomenal pain tolerance. He’s played through things that other athletes I’ve coached through the years have not been able to push through. Mentally tough—way off the charts.”

Kelce’s trainer and physical therapist, Alex Skacel, says there’s not a single day, in season, when Kelce stretches out on the training table and doesn’t have some gruesome bruise. What few realize, however, is the insane number of scratches. Guys claw each other out there, Skacel says; it can leave Kelce’s epidermis striated with crimson. To bounce back after such abuse requires more than basic therapy. Kelce and Skacel use a battery of esoteric treatments, from cupping to dry needling to occlusion therapy: essentially tying off a limb with a tourniquet while Kelce works out. Kelce also adheres to a pregame regimen of anti-inflammatories, which he doesn’t like to discuss because they “have a history of affecting people’s insides.”

“There were definitely people she knew that knew who I was, in her corner [who said], ‘Yo! Did you know he was coming?'” Kelce says about how he initially found his way into Taylor Swift’s orbit. “I had someone playing Cupid.” Loewe coat, $4,990, Loewe.com.

IF KELCE BROODS on life without football, one reason is that he had an excruciating sneak preview. A redshirt sophomore at Cincinnati, he got booted off the team for smoking pot. In a blink, he lost everything—his purpose, his meaning. “It was like my life was over.”

He also lost his scholarship. He had to get a job. The best one he could find was at a telemarketing firm, doing healthcare surveys. “Eye-opening,” he says, bowing his head.

Cold-calling people in southern Ohio, northern Kentucky, eastern Indiana, asking what they thought of Obamacare, taught him a lot. (“Uh, sir, I ran out of the comment box, I can’t write anymore, we gotta kind of keep this moving.”) Above all it taught him that he didn’t want to ever do that again.

He probably won’t have to. He’s got options. Sometimes he sees himself in a broadcasting booth. Sometimes his manager talks about action flicks. (Maybe a Marvel movie? Kelce’s already built like Wolverine.) You also get the sense that Kelce toys with notions of doing some form of comedy. He haunts clubs, lives for open-mic nights, and he’s gotten to be friendly with several rising stand-ups.

At the moment, of course, the only thing millions of people want to know about Kelce’s future is whether or not it will include Taylor Swift. And the second thing they’re dying to know is how he and she got together in the first place.

Did he sit in a dark room and say Jumanji three times? He laughs. “I don’t know if I want to get into all of it,” he says, and then he gets into it, because fountain.

It all started when he tried to meet Swift at her Arrowhead concert in July and got blocked, presumably by security. He then recounted the experience in a charming way on the podcast he does with Jason. Soon after, he says, he received an unbidden assist from inside Team Swift.

“There were definitely people she knew that knew who I was, in her corner [who said]: Yo! Did you know he was coming? I had somebody playing Cupid.” He wasn’t aware at the time, however; the revelation only came later, after he looked down at his phone and got the shock of a lifetime. “She told me exactly what was going on and how I got lucky enough to get her to reach out.”

He lets slip that some of his early helpers were part of the Swift family tree. “She’ll probably hate me for saying this, but…when she came to Arrowhead, they gave her the big locker room as a dressing room, and her little cousins were taking pictures…in front of my locker.”

Understandably, he’s not handing out details about the first date, though he will say that he managed to not be nervous. “When I met her in New York, we had already kind of been talking, so I knew we could have a nice dinner and, like, a conversation, and what goes from there will go from there.”

If anyone was nervous, he adds, it was his core group. “Everybody around me telling me: Don’t f— this up! And me sitting here saying: Yeah—got it.”

Likewise, his mother. Donna Kelce still berates herself for how she handled a question about Taylor on the Today show. Trying not to sound too enthusiastic, she came off underwhelmed. Kelce, not wanting his mom to feel bad, immediately phoned her and assured her that she did a super job—adding that her green eyeglasses looked great.

These days, however, with the relationship progressing, Donna feels more at liberty. “I can tell you this,” she says, beaming. “He’s happier than I’ve seen him in a long time…. God bless him, he shot for the stars!”

Kelce seems freer, too. He doesn’t need to be asked about Taylor; he mentions her unreservedly, lavishes praise on her, calls her “hilarious,” “a genius,” notes that they share compatible worldviews, especially when it comes to family and work. “Everybody knows I’m a family guy,” he says. “Her team is her family. Her family does a lot of stuff in terms of the tour, the marketing, being around, so I think she has a lot of those values as well, which is right up my alley.”

One of Kelce’s friends describes a sweet, magical moment, a late-night gathering around Kelce’s firepit. Kelce and Swift looked like two “peas in a pod,” the friend says, and at one point they even burst into a memorable duet of—“Teenage Dirtbag”?

This must be fake

My lips start to shake

How does she know who I am?

Kelce squints into the distance: He’s not sure they were singing…Wheatus. But he allows that his memory might be compromised.

LONG BEFORE MEETING SWIFT, Kelce was just another Swiftie. In some ways he still is. He explains the concept of her concert—“She does it in eras”—as if you live in a yurt in Outer Mongolia. Then he eagerly informs you that the night he attended, he was counting the minutes until she got to 1989. (Both he and Swift were born in 1989.) “ ‘Blank Space’ was one I wanted to hear live for sure. I could make a bad guy good for the weekend. That’s a helluva line!”

More often than not, he says, it was a Swiftian beat, a melody that captivated him. (“She writes catchy jingles.”) But lately he’s all about those lyrics; he’s scrutinized the breakup stuff. What a miracle, he says, the way Swift can turn life into poetry. “I’ve never been a man of words. Being around her, seeing how smart Taylor is, has been f—ing mind-blowing. I’m learning every day.”

Something he might need to learn from Swift: how to handle the attention. Kelce lives in a quiet neighborhood north of downtown—leafy trees, trim lawns, no gates. There’s now a clutch of desperate-looking dudes with cameras stationed on his sidewalk 24/7. He’s followed everywhere, drones buzzing overhead—it’s stressful, more than he lets on, according to one confidante.

“Obviously I’ve never dated anyone with that kind of aura about them…. I’ve never dealt with it,” Kelce says. “But at the same time, I’m not running away from any of it…. The scrutiny she gets, how much she has a magnifying glass on her, every single day, paparazzi outside her house, outside every restaurant she goes to, after every flight she gets off, and she’s just living, enjoying life. When she acts like that I better not be the one acting all strange.”

Asked if he has anything to teach Swift, he looks shy. He can’t think of anything offhand.

Football?

Sure, he says, sounding unsure.

Of course, the thing she probably wants to learn about most is him. While talking to Kelce you realize all at once that the most avid participant in the national scavenger hunt for clues about his character is likely Swift herself. To that end, Donna says that anyone wishing to understand her younger son would do well to start with her older. Travis “could never quite catch up” to Jason, she says. “He was always just second, just searching to be the best, and never quite getting there.” (The only way in which the two brothers were full equals was appetite. As boys, Donna says, “they would sit down and eat whole chickens.”)

Others say the key to Travis is simpler than that. He’s basically still the kid who filled his Dad’s shampoo bottle with hand cream. “He just lives his life with so much joy,” Jason says. “He’s always kind of surrounding himself with people who are funny, who have a zest for life; it’s one of the things that defines him.”

Jason recalls many nights in the Kelce family room, the two brothers and mom eating in front of some comedy. “We had one of those coffee tables that the top would lift up and meet you at your face if you were eating,” he says, guffawing.

Indeed, Kelce has warned Swift that she’s going to have to reckon with this part of his personality. Adam Sandler, Chris Farley, Will Ferrell—they will all be a part of the relationship. “I told Taylor that I have that world, I’ve got to introduce it to her. I let her know: This is my jam right here.” (Kelce does an uncanny imitation of Farley’s dorky baritone, and the ringtone on his phone is Farley primal screaming: For the love of GOD!)

If the past is any prelude, this will register like an 8.0 earthquake among Swifties. Their queen—screening Tommy Boy? Every new factoid, every new piece of the puzzle, gets eagerly cataloged, investigated, celebrated, especially on “SwiftTok,” a fervent virtual community, according to Brian Donovan, a professor at the University of Kansas who teaches a seminar called The Sociology of Taylor Swift.

Donovan says several of his class discussions this semester have been given over to No. 87. Swifties make no apology for delving into her relationships, just as Shakespeare scholars like to contemplate the subject of the sonnets. But the deep “vetting” of Kelce, Donovan adds, goes well beyond fans. “I think there’s a public fascination, because it seems like a pure unalloyed moment of joy in the wider context of global wars, deepening political polarization, dysfunction in Congress, an ongoing health crisis. There’s a lot of bad news out there, and this is a common story that everybody knows about and can talk about. I don’t think we’ve had that in American culture for a long time.”

NOW GET IN THE CAR. Now you’re ready for the Rolls. Or are you? Gawking at the ceiling, you ask, Are those stars?

Yes, Kelce says.

You stare in disbelief. Embedded in a leather firmament are scores, no, hundreds—many hundreds—of twinkling lights, a fiber-optic galaxy meant to resemble the larger galaxy in which we’re all floating. For the sake of verisimilitude, the Rolls even produces a shooting star now and then. There was one, just a second ago, Kelce says. “Make a wish. Dreams come true.”

He guns the engine and steers toward downtown. The Rolls doesn’t drive so much as waft you around Kansas City. The ride is so cush, it almost makes sense, for a moment or two, that the car is worth more than many of the buildings you pass. (A Rolls Ghost, before customizing, goes for nearly half a million dollars.) All of which makes it that much more startling, as you come to the heart of downtown, when Kelce points out his first-ever apartment and shows you the alley door where he’d sneak in and out when he was late on the rent.

What?

He’s not ducking landlords these days. Still, he’s grossly underpaid. His $14 million salary, though near the top among tight ends, is half what the league’s star receivers make, and Kelce often functions as a receiver.

Nothing to be done, he says flatly. The Chiefs know, he says, that he would play for free. They know he loves his city, his quarterback. “Unfortunately, in this business, things gotta get ugly, they gotta get unpleasant [if you want more money], and I’m a pleasant son of a buck.”

Thank goodness for endorsements. At this point, says his co-manager Aaron Eanes, “the NFL is just his side hustle.”

Eanes and his brother, Andre, handle much of Kelce’s business life, from investments to marketing, and it was they who widened his investment portfolio, putting him into a tequila company, an energy drink and a chain of car washes. They also steered him into lucrative endorsements, like Bud Light and the Covid vaccine, for which he caught much grief from Aaron Rodgers. The Jets quarterback, out since game one of the season with a torn Achilles, belittled Kelce as a Pfizer shill during one of his Tuesday appearances on The Pat McAfee Show.

Kelce took the high road then. He’s staying on it now. “Aaron’s always been cool to me,” he says. “I knew he was trying to have some fun. He’s in a situation where Tuesdays are his game days…. So I get it, man, I’ve been injured too…. Who knows what the guy is going through?”

Mary Esselman, Operation Breakthrough’s CEO, says that whenever Kelce visits, he doesn’t bring media and he doesn’t leave until the last kid has felt seen and appreciated. Not long ago, she adds, Kelce sponsored a football camp. Afterward, Esselman asked the children to name the highlight of the experience.

One told her: “He remembered my name.”

Kelce drives you past a jazz club he likes, a coffee place he used to frequent. Just recently, he concedes, he could go to a Starbucks in Manhattan without anyone looking twice. Those days seem over. Minutes later, he’s steering past a small airport, where Swift’s plane is often prominently parked these days.

Is it there now, gleaming in the moonlight? The Kelce eras tour is coming to a close. Left unsaid, but palpable: She’s at the house, waiting.

The Rolls pulls off the highway, up the hill to your hotel. You thank him for taking so much time, for answering all your questions. As you step out of the Rolls, you turn, ask him one more.

You ask him if you’re going crazy, or did he really say that thing when you first got in the car? Did he really point to a shooting star in the ceiling of his Rolls-Royce and say, “Make a wish. Dreams come true”?

He cracks up.

He did. He said it.

He’s not running from it.

What’s more, it might just be true.

“How do you think I manifest it all?”

#travis kelce #taylor swift #wall street journal #interview

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lemoncrushh · 28 days

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The Entertainer - Track 10 - Let's Make the Most of It

Summary: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones, a young woman from L.A., meets Harry Styles, an up-and-coming musician and frontman for the band Wildfire. Told in first person from Sky’s point of view, she shares her journey and what it’s like to fall for a rockstar.

STORY PAGE

Track 10 Word Count: 4.3k+

It was a zoo backstage, people zipping back and forth to prepare for Wildfire’s two final shows of their west coast tour. Halo and I helped with whatever we could, but mostly tried to stay out of everybody’s way. The buzz in the air was contagious though, as music rang through the hallway.

“Livin’ on rock-n-roll music Never worry ‘bout the things we were missing When we got up on the stage and got ready to play Everybody’d listen.”

“So did Lee ever apologize?” asked Halo as she bit into her hamburger.

I joined her at the table with a plate of my own, where I spread mayonnaise on the bun.

“Indirectly,” I replied. “Harry said he apologized to him and everything’s okay now.”

“For the sake of the band, I’m sure.”

“Yeah. But I’m fine with it. I don’t wanna be the one to come between them. Plus it means the ban has been lifted.”

Halo nodded as she chewed.

“Not like I was following it anyway,” she chuckled.

“Halo? We haven’t really talked about it…but what is your plan when they leave? We can’t exactly follow them all around the world.”

Halo paused for a moment, then swallowed and wiped her mouth with a napkin.

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“If Mitch were to ask me, I’d go. But he hasn’t asked.”

“Oh.”

“Why?” Halo lifted her burger. “Has Harry asked you?”

I shook my head.

“It’s just as well,” she said. “I mean, what are we gonna do, be groupies forever? We have to make a living.”

I picked at my own hamburger, my appetite suddenly gone.

“Sorry, Sky. I know you hate that word. I don’t really consider you a groupie.”

“I know,” I replied softly. “And you’re right.”

“Excuse me,” I suddenly heard a voice say behind me. A female voice, with a British accent.

I turned around to see a pretty girl who looked around my age. She wore a long burgundy coat with fur trim, and a pair of matching lace-up boots. Her shoulder-length hair was the kind of brown that I always wished mine would be, like it had been sun drenched and dipped in a vat of caramel, then painted in even strokes with wine.

“Can we help you?” asked Halo.

“I hope so. Can you tell me where I might find Harry Styles?”

“Maybe,” Halo replied smugly. “Who are you?”

She didn’t have to give her name. I knew exactly who she was.

“Just an old friend,” she smiled.

Halo glared at me, waiting for a response or the go-ahead. But no words escaped my lips. I simply stared at her, my ass glued to my chair.

“Well old friend,” Halo smirked, “Harry and the rest of the band just finished rehearsal and they went to the hotel to get ready for tonight.”

“Oh, of course. Well…I’ll just try to catch him after the show, then. Cheers!”

“Who was that?” Halo mouthed at me as I watched the back of the other girl’s head leave the room.

I released a deep breath and shut my eyes. This couldn’t be happening.

“Pretty sure that was Pippa,” I mumbled.

“Pippa?” Halo gasped. “The Pippa?”

I nodded with a groan as I put my elbows on the table and rested my head on my hands.

“What is she doing here?”

“I’m assuming she wants to see Harry.”

“She came all the way from England?”

I shrugged. “I guess.”

“She’s really pretty.”

“Shut up, Halo.”

“Sorry.”

I gulped as I stared down at my uneaten hamburger.

“I’m gonna go back to the room,” I announced as I rose from my seat.

“But you’re already dressed,” argued Halo, gesturing to the outfit I’d changed into earlier.

“I know. I just need…solitude for a little while.”

Though I tried to take a nap, I couldn’t. I kept seeing Pippa’s face behind my eyelids, hearing the ring of her accent in my ears. I finally had an image to put with Harry’s description of the night Simon died, when she’d confessed she had feelings for him. There was no doubt she was beautiful, and it was a wonder Harry had been able to resist her at all.

Finally giving up on sleep, I rose from the bed and freshened up before making my way back to the venue. Halo practically ran to me when she saw me coming down the hall and had to stop fast when she reached me.

“Harry was looking for you,” she said nearly out of breath.

“What’d you tell him?”

“That you’d gone to rest.”

“Where is he now?”

“In there,” she pointed to a closed door at the end of the hall.

“She hasn’t come back, has she?” I asked quietly.

“Nope.”

I knocked gently on the door before entering, though there was no need to. Peeking my head in, I saw Harry sitting on a chair with his guitar. His eyes lit up when he saw me which made me feel a hundred times better instantly.

“Hi!” he greeted, standing up and setting his guitar on the sofa beside him.

“Hi. You were looking for me?”

“Yeah.”

Shutting the door behind me, I leaned back against it.

“What’d you need?”

Harry grinned as he stepped closer to me, taking my hands.

“You.”

“Me?”

He blinked and nodded slowly, tilting his head until his lips met mine. I stared at him breathlessly when they separated, my heart racing in my chest.

“Well…what can I do for you?”

Harry chuckled. “Nothin’. You just did it. Just wanted to see you before I went on stage.”

“Oh,” I smiled. “Well, that’s nice.”

He bit his lip as his eyes roamed my body.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his fingers grazing my shoulder as he pushed my hair back.

Pippa who? I thought to myself as my heart beat faster.

Halo and I watched the show from the side of the stage, where we could see the audience. I spotted the blonde girl - the toe stomper and her friend on the front row. I let my eyes peruse the area for Pippa, but I never came across her.

It felt a little bittersweet, watching Wildfire and knowing they only had one more show before heading east. I began to wonder what I would say if Harry did ask me to come along. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? I couldn’t go on tour with him. I was a California girl, and other than traveling the coast to see a few bands, I had never left my home state.

Finishing one of my favorite songs, Harry returned his microphone to the stand and looked over at me. When our eyes met, he smiled his dimpled smile before introducing the next tune, the final song of the evening. The crowd went wild, cheering and singing along to their biggest hit. I was quickly reminded of the show in Chula Vista at the honky tonk when no one knew their songs yet. I thought of the time Harry and I had shared since then. I thought of our conversation the other night in my bedroom.

“I am the entertainer I’m here to do my show You’ve heard my latest record It’s been on the radio…”

As much as I would insist that he was indeed a rockstar, I understood what he meant about being an entertainer. He was entertaining everyone in that room with his charisma, his talent and his love for music.

The band gathered backstage after the concert, the energy still filling the room and bouncing off the walls. Harry found me in the middle of the hallway and picked me up and spun me around. I giggled as he set me down and planted a big fat kiss on my mouth.

“That felt great!” he exclaimed. “Think that might’ve been the best show we’ve ever done.”

“Yeah, it w-“

“It was brilliant,” a voice interrupted me.

I froze. I knew she was coming back after the show, but a part of me had hoped she’d changed her mind. I saw Harry’s face before I saw hers, his eyes wide, his expression incredulous as he released me from his arms.

“Pippa?”

“Hello, Harry.”

“Pi- wha’…what are you doing here?”

“Well, I…” she paused, her gaze shifting. “I came to see you.”

“Oh.”

Pippa grinned. “I would ask how you’ve been, but that concert gave me the answer. Good job, Harry. I always knew you’d make it.”

Harry swallowed nervously. “Thanks.”

Looking around the room again, Pippa licked her lips.

“Think we could go somewhere to talk?”

“Um…” Harry looked from Pippa to me, then back to her.

Suddenly feeling like a third wheel, I spoke up.

“Go,” I said, touching his arm. “Catch up with your friend.”

“Are you sure? You don’t mind?”

I smiled at his concern, though I was faking it the best I could.

“Go. She came all this way.”

“Thanks. I’ll um…”

I nodded. “Just call my room when you get to yours. I’ll meet you.”

As I gave him a kiss on the cheek, I heard Pippa say “Thanks, love,” though I wasn’t sure if it was meant for me or Harry.

I walked towards Halo at the end of the hall, and she whispered to me with a nudge.

“You okay?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I’m assuming you’re staying with Mitch tonight?”

“Yeah.”

I nodded. “Okay. See you in the morning.”

Passing Mr. Irving on my way out the door, he gave me a smile and a wave. I returned the wave, but at that moment, I just couldn’t manage to fake another smile.

1AM. I hadn’t heard from Harry yet, and I was getting a little anxious. Trying to distract myself, I played a little guitar, then turned on the television.

2AM. Nothing. The concert had ended three hours ago. Where was he? I considered calling his room, but I couldn’t remember the number. I was being ridiculous anyway. He’d call when he returned.

3AM. Still nothing. Maybe he had actually gotten back but thought I’d be asleep, so he went to sleep himself. Rising from the bed, I grabbed my key and opened my door, determined to find him.

His floor was semi-dark, lit only by dim sconces on the walls. All was quiet except for a low sound that seemed to be coming from further down the hall where I was headed.

Stopping in front of a door, I began to second guess myself. I couldn’t remember which room was Harry’s. Looking between two doors, I tried to recall which one he was staying in. I thought it had been the one on the right, but maybe I had it backwards and it was in fact the one on the left.

Finally sticking with my first choice, I raised my fist to knock, stopping mid-way. I heard the low sound again, but this time it was louder and accompanied by a similar, higher-pitched one. Fuck.

The moans increased, both in speed and volume and there was no doubt someone was having sex on the other side of that door. For a moment I thought maybe I had the wrong room until the male voice said a few words in a British accent. No!

Just as though someone had pushed me, I fell back against the wall. Covering my mouth with my hand, I slid down to the carpet, a river of tears flowing instantly. No, God, No!

Had I any strength in my legs, I would have gotten up off the floor and run as fast as I could. But instead I sat there in a ball, my entire body shaking with sobs, my eyes so full of tears I wouldn’t have been able to see where I was going anyway.

I’m not really sure how long I stayed on that floor. But when I felt like I’d exhausted all the anguish I possibly could, I wiped my face dry and stood up. I stared at the door for a moment, cursing it and the people inside, then I turned and walked slowly to the elevator.

My room was too quiet. Tossing my key on the nightstand, I turned on the radio for company. Normally I wouldn’t have been able to sleep with music, but I needed noise. Something, anything besides the angry voices in my head that kept saying “I told you so.”

“But all in war is so cold You either win or lose When all is put away The losing side I’ll play…”

I let Stevie Wonder soothe me as I changed into my pajamas and crawled into bed. My chest still shook as I gulped back a few more stray tears, until finally I laid completely numb.

“A writer takes his pen To write the words again That all in love is fair.”

I awoke to a knock at the door. Ignoring it, I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but the visitor was persistent, and the knocks continued louder until I finally groaned and went to answer it. Barely opening it enough to stick my head through, I saw Harry standing there, his hands in his pockets.

“Good morning,” he greeted with a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Hi.”

“What happened to you last night?”

“What do you mean?”

Harry scratched his head. “Um…well, I rang your room a couple times and you didn’t answer.”

“I had a headache,” I lied, “so I went to sleep.”

“Oh. Do you wanna get breakfast?”

“No, not really.”

“Oh. Um…can I come in?”

“What for?”

Harry blinked, his crestfallen face making me feel a tinge sorry for him.

“Um…to see you. To talk.”

So, he wanted to explain himself, I thought. Fine. With a sigh, I stepped back and let him in my room. Shutting the door, I turned and looked at him. For a moment he didn’t seem like the strong, confident Harry Styles I knew. He looked like a confused little boy.

“What’d you wanna talk about?” I asked, dropping my hands at my sides.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” I replied sharply and a little too quickly.

“Yeah there is. You’re upset.”

“I’m fine, Harry,” I remarked, crossing my arms in defense.

He let out a breath through his nose and sat down on my bed. I remained standing against the wall, not bothering to take one step. I watched as he fidgeted with his rings before raising his eyes to mine.

“Sorry about Pippa,” he said.

“What?”

“I know it made you uncomfortable.”

Uncomfortable? Is that what he’d call it? I blinked back the tears I felt reforming in my eyes.

“I needed to talk to her though. You understand that, right?”

I swallowed hard, feeling dizzy and sick to my stomach. “You talked?”

“Yeah. We sat in the bar well after three. We got everything out on the table. All the resentment, the pain…her feelings towards me. She admitted she’d felt like she had lost Simon long before he died. And when he did, she felt tremendous guilt and didn’t know how to handle it.”

“And you?” I asked softly, afraid of the answer. “Does she still have feelings for you?”

Harry shrugged. “She says she still cares for me. I reckon she might’ve been attracted to me in the beginning, but her love for Simon overrode that. And when he started in on the drugs, she found herself struggling with her emotions.”

I remained silent as he looked down at his hands again.

“Doesn’t matter anyway. We both got the closure we needed. And then I took her to the airport.”

“She’s gone?”

“Yeah. She had an early flight to New York.”

“Oh my God,” I muttered, throwing my head back. What on Earth had I done?

Harry ran a hand down his face, breathing out a heavy sigh.

“I’m so fucking tired, too. Hardly got much sleep,” he complained. “Deacon’s room is next to mine and he’s got some chick in there. They were so loud, I could hear them through the wall. That was when I called you, but you didn’t answer. I almost came down here, but I reckoned you were sleeping, like you said. So I tried to get some sleep myself, but man, those two…fuck.”

“Oh my God, I’m an idiot!” I exclaimed, covering my face with my hands

“What?”

“Harry, I’m so stupid. I thought…oh God.” Lowering my hands, I saw his confused face again. “I went to your room last night. When you hadn’t come back, I went to find you. But I couldn’t remember which room was yours.”

“You thought I was with Pippa.”

I nodded.

“In my room.”

I nodded again, a single tear trickling down my cheek.

“Only you thought Deacon’s room was my room.”

“I couldn’t remember. And I heard the sounds and…”

My chest shook as I drew in a hitched breath.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Harry shook his head, a kindness in his eyes. Then he held out his hand for me.

“C’mere,” he beckoned softly.

Hesitantly, I took his hand. He pulled me to him where I landed in his lap. I giggled shyly at the sudden contact until I saw the expression on his face. Pushing my hair from my face, he leaned his forehead against mine.

“I hate that you thought that,” he murmured.

“I’m sorry. I was an idiot.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

“I don’t wanna be that girl, Harry.”

“What girl?”

“The jealous type. That’s not me.”

Harry smirked. “Sure it is.”

“No, it’s not! I swear! I’m not clingy.”

“I didn’t say you were clingy.”

“I’m not expecting anything from you, Harry,” I explained.

He stared at me a moment before asking, “Aren’t you?”

“Huh? No.”

With a deep sigh, Harry shifted me from his lap to lay me down on the bed. Then kicking off his shoes, he situated himself above me, his green eyes telling me things I wasn’t sure he was willing to reveal.

“I like you, Sky. I really, really like you,” he admitted. “I’d even go as far as to say I’ve never felt this way…about anyone before.”

A gentle smile grew on my lips and I raised a hand to touch his cheek.

“You’ve…done something to me,” he continued. “Something I can’t really even explain. Because…it’s something I’d never thought I’d feel. We have a special connection, and I don’t take that for granted.”

I bit my lip as I nodded.

“But…I’m in a band. I’m going on the road. Overseas, even. And although I’d love for you to come along, I know it’s unrealistic. You have a life here.”

“I know.”

“There will be other girls, too. Lots of girls, whether I want them or not.”

“I know, Harry. That’s what I was trying to say. I understand.”

Harry blinked as I continued to stroke his unshaven jaw.

“It would be ridiculous for me to expect you to wait for me. So…I can’t…”

“You can’t commit to me,” I answered for him.

“Yeah.”

“I know,” I sighed. “I’m just glad you’re here right now.”

Wildfire’s final west coast show was a party to say the least. The entire backstage area was decorated with good luck signs, and I even saw a few in the audience. The band added their cover of “Honky Tonk Women” to the setlist for fun, and the crowd ate it up.

After the show, Mr. Irving gave a toast, and Harry and I (and probably everyone else) got a little tipsy and ended up giggling up to his hotel room.

“Harry,” I whined when he shut the door behind me. “I should probably go to my room and get my bag.”

“What for?”

I gave a cheeky grin. “My yellow pajamas are in there.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You won’t be needing those, baby.”

I giggled again as he pulled me to him and began nibbling on my neck. Sliding the strap of my top down my shoulder, his lips traveled down my skin, leaving goosebumps.

“Harry…” I said again in a whisper.

“Hmm?”

“You’re leaving tomorrow.”

Pausing his caresses, he raised his head to look at me.

“We haven’t said our goodbyes yet,” I choked.

Sliding his hand under my ear, his lips grazing mine, he whispered. “Then let’s make the most of it, yeah?”

His tongue filled my mouth with water kisses, the air in my lungs temporarily absent. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he lifted me off the floor and onto the bed. Taking off his shirt, he threw it on the floor next to his discarded boots. Neither of us said a word, though his eyes told me everything. And like in every situation, I heard music in my head.

“Tonight the light of love is in your eyes…”

I knew he felt it. Even if he didn’t say it. He didn’t have to. And I’d fallen long ago. I knew it wasn’t just sex. And I wasn’t a groupie. It was love.

“Tonight with words unspoken You say that I’m the only one But will my heart be broken When the night meets the morning sun…”

I knew the truth. My heart was getting ready to be broken. But then again…I’d known that all along.

The jet engine whined loudly as the wind blew my hair in my face. I tried to push it back only to have it fly right back to where it was, obscuring my view.

I promised myself I wasn’t going to cry. I’d done enough of it the night before after Harry had fallen asleep, and again that morning in the bathroom.

“Alright guys, ready when you are,” said Mr. Irving.

He climbed the stairs into the plane first, Lee and Deacon following. Halo stopped Mitch on the stairs to give him her final kisses, making a complete show of it.

“I guess this is goodbye now,” Harry shrugged.

“Yeah.”

He took a step closer, grazing my chin with his thumb.

“I’m gonna miss you, Mary Lou Jones.”

Pushing his hand away, I shook my head as I felt the unwanted tears start to come.

“Don’t. Please.”

I heard him sigh. “I hope you know how special you are to me.”

Blinking, I looked up at him. “Me too.”

Lifting my hand to the locket around my neck, I reached for his cross with my other.

“Never forget…right?”

His jaw set, like he was trying to keep from crying too, he nodded. This was so hard.

“Do…do I at least get a hug?”

I nodded then, finally releasing a few tears even though I tried to wipe them away quickly. I wrapped my arms around him, taking in his scent one last time. I kissed him on the cheek, letting my lips linger on his skin before I whispered in his ear.

“I love you.”

I felt Harry’s arms fall from my waist as I pulled back. His face looked puzzled, his brows furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him.

“I…I’m leaving, Sky.”

“I know.”

“Why would you say that now? Why would you-“

I pressed my finger to his lips to hush him.

“You’re special to me, Harry. I’m proud of you. I love you. Okay?”

He nodded, my finger still on his mouth. When I released it, he sucked in a breath. I thought for a moment he was going to say it back, but he didn’t.

“Thanks.”

I smiled meekly as I took his hand.

“Go. Be great. I know you will.”

His expression solemn, he slowly walked to the plane. Unable to watch him leave, I turned around.

“Sky!” I heard him call, stopping me in my tracks.

“Yes?”

Sucking in his lips, he walked back towards me.

“If I had asked…would you have come with me?”

I blinked rapidly as I stared at him. What was I supposed to say? I had no clue. Finally I lowered my eyes and shook my head.

“No.”

With a nod, Harry started for the jet again. When he reached the steps, I ran up to him.

“Are…are you…asking?”

Harry gulped hard and shook his head.

“No.”

Halo drove my car home, knowing I was unable to. I wasn’t crying on the outside, but on the inside I was like a volcano about to erupt. She turned the key in the ignition and Linda Ronstadt’s voice filled the car.

“Living in a memory of a love that never was…”

“Sorry,” mumbled Halo, turning down the volume.

“It’s okay. This song is perfect actually.”

I let the tears fall then as I gazed out the window.

“I’ve done everything I know To try and make you mine And I think I’m gonna love you For a long, long time…”

And just like that, Harry Styles walked out of my life. I’m not bitter, nor do I have any regrets. I only have fond memories, no hurt or pain.

I had never met anyone like Harry Styles before, nor have I met anyone like him since. He’s still the only person I ever knew to love music as much as I do, and I’m so proud to have been a part of his early steps in reaching his dreams.

Wildfire eventually disbanded in 1981 and Harry took on a solo project which did fairly well, though I never saw him in concert again. I did go to a concert at the Forum in the early 80s (pretty sure it was Journey, or maybe Van Halen) and I looked over the aisle to my right to see a young man who looked a lot like Harry. It could have been him, but it was dark and I wasn’t sure if he saw me. As I look back now, I sort of wish I had gone up to him, just to say hello. But I suppose I was afraid he wouldn’t remember me. And I wanted all my memories of him to be good.

Like Halo said, sometimes people come into your life for a reason. They may not stay forever, but your life is forever changed because they touched it. Harry had touched my life in a way that was immeasurable. I suppose a little part of me will always be in love with him. And I will never, ever forget him.

THE END...

or is it??

Songs mentioned:

Boston - Rock & Roll Band

Billy Joel - The Entertainer

Stevie Wonder - All In Love Is Fair

Carole King - Will You Love Me Tomorrow

Linda Ronstadt - Long, Long Time

If you'd like to listen to the entire soundtrack, check out my playlist on spotify :).

I know, I know. It hurts. It hurt me re-reading this for the millionth time. I actually hope the emotions were evoked because that was my goal. Please message me to let me know what you thought of this story. It's still very special to me.

So that was going to be the end. Just a little mini fic. But later I got a couple little birdies in my ear asking if I could write something where Sky does actually run into Harry again, like a what-if. As I started writing, my original plan was just a few chapters, like "bonus tracks", but they soon grew into an entire fic, even longer than the original. I'll be reposting the sequel soon. Maybe not daily, more like weekly or maybe twice a week. If you'd like to be on a taglist, let me know.

Thank you so much for reading! - Court xo

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baronessblixen · 7 months

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AU where Mulder and Scully meet on karaoke night at a bar.

The other day I had an idea for a story and thought, don't I have a prompt for this? And I did. This story went in a completely different direction than planned: AU, a touch of magic, fake dating, first kiss, fate (wc: 1,655)

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2023

Fictober Day 26: I Saw Your Face In A Dream

He’s nursing a beer, listlessly playing with the edges of the label, tearing it off piece by piece. Neither of his friends notices his mood. Or they do notice it and decide not to comment. If that’s the case, Mulder can’t blame them. It’s been like this for weeks. Okay, maybe even months. A dark cloud follows him around, ready to open its gates and rain down on him.

Frohike would say that he’s full of bullshit and that the only dark cloud he has following him around is Diana Fowley, his girlfriend. His fiancée. He takes the beer bottle between his fingers, relishing the cold of the glass, the realness of it all. What doesn’t feel real is that he’s engaged to Diana. For all he knows, she’s planning their wedding right now, flowers and all. He takes a big gulp, trying to drown the feeling of dread he can’t shake off.

“Dude, stop staring,” Byers says, nudging Frohike. Mulder watches his friends and tries to find out what it’s about. Frohike’s eyes are glued to the stage where people are singing karaoke. That’s the whole reason they picked this bar; Frohike, Byers, and Langly can’t stay away from a karaoke night.

His job is to make sure neither of them gets too drunk and start a fight about which duet to sing before it inevitably ends in a discussion about songs sung by three people. As funny as they can be sometimes, Mulder loves his friends. And they stand by him, no matter what. Even if it means accepting Diana into their midst.

“I can’t. She’s magnificent.” Frohike is in his own world and Mulder can only chuckle. That is until he redirects his gaze to what – or rather who – has him so transfixed. The woman is small and if he weren’t so tall, he’s not sure he’d see her at all on this big stage.

She keeps shaking her head and laughing the cutest laugh in between her notes that she misses one after the other. She might be the worst singer he’s ever heard. He barely recognizes the song she’s singing, but he recognizes something else. A feeling of warmth spreads inside his chest. It’s hitting a home run, coming home after a long journey, and his favorite birthday as a child all rolled up into one.

“Now we’ve got two of them,” Langly laments. Mulder hears his friend, but he cannot look away from the woman on stage. She’s belting now, missing so many notes that it’s a miracle no one has booed her off yet. And yet, it’s his favorite version of Son of a Preacher Man. He takes in her appearance; her short, flaming-red hair, her perfect face, and the roundest eyes he’s ever seen. What color are they? He needs to know. Before this night ends, he needs to find out.

He’s never believed in love at first sight, even though he believes in everything else. Bigfoot? Of course, he exists. The Jersey Devil? Is surely out there. Love at first sight? Think again. That was until he laid eyes on her. There’s something about her that pulls him to her. Like something inside him was screaming, ‘Hey, I know you’. She's so familiar to him. As if they've spent a lifetime together already. She's not someone he's met at work. He'd know if she worked for the FBI. It must be something else. Something more like... destiny.

“I’m in love,” he murmurs, the words bubbling out of him while his eyes never leave her. She’s flinging her arms wildly and something tells him this isn’t like her at all. It makes him smile

“We know you love Diana,” Byers says. "We just don't know why."

“No, not her,” he says, without even thinking what he’s saying. He’s bewitched. Entranced. Completely out of his mind. Diana would hit him over the head if she were here. But she isn’t here. And with that vision in front of him, she slips from his mind quietly, without any fight at all.

“What are you talking about, dude?” Langly asks. “Are you serious right now? That woman can’t carry a tune and you two sit here like dogs.”

“I need to talk to her,” Mulder says. The song is coming to an end, and his heart is racing. He gets up from his chair and it almost tips over.

“I saw her first,” Frohike says, but Mulder barely hears him. One day he will apologize for ignoring him and for seemingly stealing the girl. He’s making his way through the tables, tipping over a bottle somewhere, but he fears that if he takes his eyes off her, she will disappear. Just like in his dream. It’s her. He knows it now. He's seen her in his dream. The dream he’s been having ever since he was a child. The flaming locks that surround him. That scare everyone else away but take him in, warming him, comforting him. He used to think the dream alluded to his own name – Fox. Now he knows better. Her. His heart can’t be wrong.

She’s standing at the bar now, her cheeks pink and flushed. She’s smiling, talking to a friend of hers. He keeps walking until he stops right in front of her. Her eyes, he realizes, are the bluest blue.

“Hello,” he says.

“Hi,” she says, mustering him. “Can I help you?” His eyes wander, taking her all in. Her form-fitting jeans that hug her curves most deliciously, and that shirt. Slightly too big on her, in a faded green, and an alien head prominently featured, sticking out its tongue.

“Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?” he asks.

“Logically, I would have to say no,” she says, her lips twitching.

“But your shirt.”

“Belongs to my sister.” She points at another redhead who is making out with a hot brunette. Mulder quickly tears his eyes away.

“It’s cool.”

“I’ll let her know.”

“Your singing was…” This is why he never does this. And he hasn’t had a chance to even try in a while. Diana seduced him. More than once. No matter how far he ran, or how hard he tried, she always got her claws back into him. Any moment now she’s going to decide he’s not worth it and walk off. His chance will be blown. He’ll never see again and his heart will shatter into a million pieces.

“I can’t carry a tune,” she admits. “I lost a bet. The only reason I’m here if you must know. I was just about to leave actually.”

“No,” he says quickly and she narrows her eyes. “I-I-I thought your singing was great or no I didn’t really but- I don’t know how to say this.”

“With words, I hope. Just say it.”

“I like you,” he blurts out. She huffs at him.

“You don’t even know me.”

“Give me a chance to get to know you. I saw you up there and I- this is going to sound crazy.”

“Everything you’ve said so far has sounded crazy.”

“I feel like I know you.” That gets him an eyebrow. “Not like that. Ugh, you must think I’m the world’s creepiest guy.”

“Maybe not the world’s, but…” She smiles at him, giving him a chance. All he has to do is take it.

“I think maybe our souls know each other.” He waits for her to laugh at him and walk off. She does neither. She regards him with a tilted head, probably trying to figure out what flavor of crazy he is exactly.

“That’s sweet, um, but I need to go home now. I'm starting a new job tomorrow.”

“Please.” It’s all he can say.

“I really-” she looks past him and he doesn’t know what she sees there, but panic flickers in her eyes. “Shit. Look, I don’t know you and this might be the biggest mistake of my life but you’re cute and my ex just walked in and it didn’t end well. I can’t believe I’m asking this but, can you pretend? For just a second that we’re… more than strangers?”

“As in-”

“Hey Dana.” A tall guy, older than her – and Mulder – walks up to them, certain of himself. Mulder stands up tall and feeling brave, loops his arm around the woman whose name he didn’t know until the guy said it.

“Hey Ethan.”

“Who’s this clown?” He stares at Mulder.

“He’s just- he’s-”

“This clown is her boyfriend,” Mulder says, his voice dark. “And if you bother her again, you will be very sorry.”

“Right,” Ethan says, laughing. “Listen, pal, Dana and I have history. We go way back.”

“You can go wherever you came from,” Mulder says. “But alone.”

“Let’s go have a beer, hm, Dana? Let’s talk.” Before Ethan can say another word, or persuade her, Mulder whirls her to him and she gasps when his mouth lands on hers. She melts into his arms, her own going around his neck. She presses against him, her kiss full of passion and questions. And Mulder feels the same. Something is happening. Something cosmic. When they break apart, Ethan is gone. They stare at each other with open mouths.

“Hello again,” Mulder says.

“I feel like… I feel like I’ve done this before. I feel dizzy.”

“Let me help you.” He takes her elbow and takes her to a chair.

“I’m Dana, by the way,” she says. “Dana Scully.”

“Fox Mulder. My friends call me Mulder. I think we were destined to meet,” he says. “Tonight, or any time. I recognized you. Or something in you. Destiny, fate. Call it whatever you want. You still think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

“I don’t believe in destiny,” she says, “or fate, but I believe in choice.” She offers him a hand. Without hesitation, he takes it. “And maybe I do want to get to know you, Fox Mulder.”

#fictober23 #no idea what happened here #but it's fictober and i can try things right?#the story just came out of me like that #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

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