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badboyjuyeon · 3 years

Text

mind reader

Pairing: Chanhee x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: “One day in class you decide to scream something in your head to catch mind readers. As you do you see your crush flinch.”

prompt credits to writing.prompt.s

Eyes glued to the clock, you counted down the seconds before class would start.

It’s not that you particularly enjoyed English or any of the books you were discussing. Your teacher constantly droned on and on and, with practice, you had finally mastered the art of tuning his voice out.

So it wasn’t exactly the class that you looked forward to, but a special person within that class.

And that person was Choi Chanhee, who had just entered with his bag slung lazily across his shoulder. Though his hair was ruffled and he was sweaty from gym class, he still looked as radiant as ever. He flashed his signature smile, the one that melted your heart, and waved at Changmin who had saved a seat for him.

Pretty people “herd” together, so it’s not a surprise that he often hung out with Younghoon, Sunwoo, and Changmin, the other popular boys that stole the hearts of every person in the school, including yours. You accepted that this crush would not go far because of his popularity, and you were perfectly content with just enjoying his presence.

Before seeing him fifth-period four days of the week, you had only ever seen him in the hallways. You never had any real reason to talk to him, and given the chance, you’re not sure you would even try to hold a conversation with him. You know you would just become a stuttering mess and embarrass yourself. So instead of making any real efforts to do something about your crush, you just made sure to come to class a few minutes early so you could secure the seat that gave you the best view of him.

Your English class was currently doing student-led discussions and your teacher claimed arranging the seats in a circle would help the students interact more with each other. You hated student discussions but had no complaints sitting in a circle, as it allowed you the perfect excuse to steal glances at Chanhee from any angle.

Currently seated within the circle that seemed more like an oval, all of the students tried their hardest not to unintentionally make eye contact with the person sitting across from them. Your teacher introduced the topic the class would be discussing and you doodled at the corner of your page, letting your hand move on its own accord. Your doodles often reflected whatever you were thinking of, so your page was filled with drawings of the pink-haired boy you were currently infatuated with.

The person sitting next to you spoke up, reminding you that you were still in class and needed to contribute to the discussion.

You spoke once to satisfy the participation requirements and tried to ignore the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you. That feeling was 10 times worse knowing that Chanhee was one of the people that was looking straight at you. You avoided looking in his direction, knowing that you would completely freeze up at the mere thought of him. His eyes were finally off of you when you finished speaking, but that didn’t stop your heart from racing. It would take another five minutes before your heart would return to its normal pace.

Having participated, you were now free to be alone with your thoughts.

Running out of creativity to doodle, you decided that you would play a game with yourself to pass the time. This game never failed to amuse you during all of the boring classes you’ve taken. You scanned the room to see what some of your peers were doing. Younghoon was currently speaking, Chanhee was dozing off into space, the girl from your biology class was very clearly trying to flirt with Sunwoo, who was ignoring her.

You decided that Sunwoo would be the first person you tested. This game consisted of you trying to find out if anyone in the room could read your mind.

Sunwoo if you can hear me, write down something in your notebook.

You took notice of Sunwoo’s immediate actions, which would prove if he could listen to your thoughts.

He picked up his pen.

Your eyes widened as you waited to see what he would do next.

He started fiddling with the pen mid-air, and it never ended up touching the paper.

Sunwoo was not in fact a mind reader. You moved on to your next test subject.

You shifted your undivided attention towards Younghoon, who had just finished speaking. He was staring at his notebook, the corner of the page curling underneath his fingers.

If you can hear my thoughts, look at me within the next three seconds.

You counted down and waited to see if he would prove himself to be a mind reader. Younghoon raised his head and his eyes scanned the circle.

You sat up in your chair as you waited to see if he had heard you.

Unfortunately, his eyes did not land on you as he chose to focus on the classmate that was currently speaking.

You slumped back down into your chair. This game was not as fun as it used to be. Either no one was a mind reader or they were too good at pretending not to hear you.

I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME AND I’LL CATCH YOU.

You screamed in your thoughts, looking around to see if anyone noticed.

Chanhee, who was still staring into space, suddenly flinched.

What the f-

And then Chanhee’s eyes met yours.

You immediately shifted your gaze to focus on the notebook on your lap. He never looked at you if you weren’t speaking, the timing was all too suspicious. You made sure not to look up from your notebook for the rest of class or think about him, just in case.

After the teacher dismissed the class, you hurriedly packed up your belongings and rushed out of class. But your shoelaces did not cooperate, and you knelt down to tie them. You heard a soft voice call your name from behind you. A voice that you knew all too well.

Why was Chanhee trying to talk to you, today of all days?

There was only one answer. Chanhee was actually a mind reader and he knew about your crush. He was coming to confront you. You quickly shoved your shoelaces in your shoe and ran out the school building, not looking back.

Chanhee watched as you dashed out the school doors, the notebook that had fallen out of your backpack in his hands. He was sure he called your name loud enough but he reasoned that you probably hadn’t heard him with how hectic the hallway was. He placed your notebook in his locker and reminded himself to give it to you before the next class.

You slammed your locker shut, startling the student next to you. You lost your notebook for English class that you’ve reused since freshman year. Sighing, you headed into English class with a substitute notebook and the motive to pay attention, since you didn’t have any of your notes. You searched for the one person that could instantly lift your spirits.

“Chanhee?” Your teacher called out during attendance, waiting for his response.

You quickly glanced around the room to see where Chanhee was seated, but to your dismay, he was nowhere to be found.

On the bright side, you could think about Chanhee all you wanted without worrying about whether he could hear your thoughts. You breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in your chair.

“Present.”

Hearing the familiar voice, you looked up to see Chanhee standing in the doorway, out of breath, as he rushed towards his seat. You dared not to make eye contact with him again.

You wondered why he stopped to call your name after the last time you had class. There was a chance that he wasn’t actually calling your name and that you might have just imagined it.

But you were quick to dismiss the theory that it was all in your imagination when Chanhee called out to you again after class. The hallway was rather empty and you couldn’t use the chaos as an excuse to avoid him. You nervously turned around to face him. This was technically the first time you spoke to him.

“Hi, (y,n) right? Is this your notebook?” He held out a notebook that looked a little too similar to your missing English notebook. “I think you dropped it after class yesterday.”

You took the notebook from him and sure enough, it was yours. Finding your lost notebook should have filled you with satisfaction, but that was the last thing you were feeling. The doodles of him scattered throughout the pages flashed in your mind. You immediately snapped the notebook shut.

“Thank you so much.” You managed to say, hoping that he hadn’t flipped through the notebook.

He gave you a small smile, unaware of your internal panic. “No problem.”

Not knowing whether to continue the conversation or not, you also smiled, before turning to walk away.

“Oh, and by the way, I know what you’re thinking...”

What- there’s no way. How would he know what I was thinking? Oh my god. Is he an actual mind re-

You stopped in your tracks, grateful that you were turned around so he couldn’t see the sheer look of horror on your face.

You faced him and prepared yourself for what he would say next.

“...You’re probably wondering how I knew it was your notebook.” He looked down at your notebook, which you held protectively against your chest.

Not expecting the words that came out of his mouth, you giggled. The question hadn’t actually crossed your mind, so it was good to know that he was NOT an actual mind reader. Your name was not on the cover, so it was a valid question to wonder.

“I wasn’t wondering but, now that you mention it, how did you know?“

“I recognized your art style from the doodles on the cover. You’re really talented.” He continued to speak comfortably as if you had known each other for years. Your art teacher often hung up your drawings in the art classroom for everyone to see, but you were surprised that he had recognized your art style.

“Thanks, that means a lot to me.” You finally found the courage to hold eye contact with him. You were confused as to why he kept continuing this conversation when it could have ended much earlier with little-to-no words involved.

The corner of his lips lifted into a smirk and a mischievous spark glinted in his eyes. He cleared his throat, “I like my eggs scrambled in the morning...if you were still wondering.”

Eggs scrambled in the morning?

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as you tried to remember why that expression sounded so familiar. Or why he claimed you would be wondering that.

Chanhee bit back a smile, as he saw your expression change from confused to panicked in a matter of seconds. Your cheeks turned as pink as his hair.

You were just joking when you claimed that Chanhee was a mind reader, but now you were starting to think that it wasn’t a joke anymore. How do you like your eggs in the morning? That sounds exactly like something you would think.

“What...how did you...“ You struggled to form a coherent sentence.

Instead of answering, he just shrugged and backed away, before heading to his next class. He left you standing in the middle of the hallway unsure of what to believe.

Remembering the notebook that was still pressed against your chest, suddenly it clicked. He had seen the last page of your notebook.

The last page was where you wrote absolute nonsense to relieve your boredom during class. You used to write notes back and forth with your best friend back in freshman year. She would talk about her crush on Changmin and you would talk about yours on Chanhee.

That means he read all about your crush on him. Of all the ways you imagined him finding out, this was the last and most embarrassing way ever. There was no way to save yourself in this situation.

chanhee is so gorgeous

changmin is SO FINE

i wonder how chanhee likes his eggs in the morning

i want changmin’s number so bad

You cursed your younger, boy-obsessed self for setting you up like this. You groaned, any chance you had with Chanhee was officially out the window.

Rereading the page, you noticed that there was a new addition to your conversation with your friend. The unfamiliar handwriting did not match yours or your best friend’s, and the ink seemed to be fresh.

idk about changmin’s but i can give you mine: XXX-XXX-XXXX

p.s. i want you to draw me like one of your french girls

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nctsworld · 3 years

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skateboard love

✩‌ yangyang x reader | skater boy!yangyang | college au | fluff | 2.2k

SUMMARY | yangyang tries to get you to skateboard for the first time and in doing so, you’re taken back to when you first met him. // for @notnctu’s beginning collab! WARNINGS | slight injury (reader trips over a curb), one swear word, kissing RATING | teen+ TAGLIST | @infnteen

“I can’t do this,” you mutter, shaking your head in defeat.

The ocean waves clamour nearby as you stare down at the skateboard and concrete pavement beneath your sneakers in frustration.

The weight of your helmet and the wrist guards are blatant in your every movement. Sure, it’s a little embarrassing at your age, but it’d be best to rather be safe than sorry.

Thankfully, they’ve been coming in handy during the times you almost fell and slipped off of your boyfriend’s skateboard. It may have been his idea to try to learn, but you weren’t opposed to it, thinking it’d be easy.

They say things are easier said than done, and now you’re forced to admit skateboarding definitely falls under that list.

“Yes, you can,” Yangyang softly says. Beside you, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, causing you to peer into his gleaming eyes and bright smile.

Despite the recentness of your relationship, your boyfriend’s patience and encouragement feels like routine, like he’s been by your side for your entire life. His words don’t fall on deaf ears; you parrot his smile and muster a small nod, albeit glancing away shyly.

“Just think about all the times you’ve watched me skate past the library and copy what I did.”

Petulantly, you stick your tongue out. “It wasn’t that often.”

Disbelief reflects back at you in the form of an eyebrow raise.

“Really?”

“Really!”

Around mid-September, in the most modern, glass-structured library on campus, you found a studying area that was perfect for you.

Main floor, nearby the entrance doors for an easy exit when class was about to roll around. A high stool chair that was cushioned comfortably for endless hours of equal parts studying and procrastination. Plugs and desk space galore.

Above all, it was perfect because you had the picturesque view of the boy who always skated every other day around 11:50am towards his next class across the wide stoned boulevard in front of the library.

You noticed him the first few times when you initially sat upstairs. Even from afar and above, your interest was piqued over how coolly he skated past all the students. There were only so many students who biked to their next class, and even less who skateboarded.

And after you decided to sit downstairs for once to finally steal a closer glimpse of him, you were completely smitten upon capturing his handsome features.

Thus, your heart constantly raced in anticipation when 11:50am hit, as students scattered all across campus during this transition period.

With a thumb tucked in his pocket and headphones over his ears to boot, the mystery skater boy often slid past around 11:55am, making your mind wonder where his former class was and where he was going. Was he in Engineering? Arts? Business?

The latter option didn’t seem likely since his style didn’t echo the stereotypical look of the faculty. Dark coloured hoodies and sweaters, bomber jackets, and skinny jeans were his usual choice of fashion, alongside the occasional baseball cap. And on the days he wore his cap backwards, he was truly in his skater element.

No matter, you always swooned with your chin perched atop your fist or resting inside your palm as he passed by. The brief sighting of him easily became the highlight of your day.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t try to look for him in your classes, but to no avail. You had to live with the fact that you’d only get to know him in passing as he skated on by the library.

When the mere hoodies and sweaters were exchanged for heavier, thicker jackets and coats, he still continued to traverse across campus via his unsurprising mode of transportation. You especially admired his dedication on the days filled with rain and wind, wishing there was some way for you to ease his trips to his next class.

All throughout the couple of months, he was consistent in attending that one class.

Except one day.

It was a Friday, about a week or two near finals season. The weather was quite chilly now, but snow wouldn’t be an issue until after winter break and well into the next semester, so there wasn’t any reason for him to not use his skateboard still.

Maybe he was sick at home, you thought. Pouting, you tried not to dwell over the stranger because that’s all what he was.

Someone you didn’t know, someone you only watched from afar. Someone that filled your daydreams, pondering what he’d be like and what’d you two could talk about... but nevertheless a stranger.

Oddly enough, about an hour past noon, someone dragged you out of your thoughts momentarily as they unusually sat nearby your spot.

The unspoken library etiquette was to sit as far away from others for more personal space, especially in the area where you frequented. You tried your best to ignore the shuffling of the person placing their laptop and books onto the elongated wall-length table, feigning laser-focus on your notes.

But a few moments later, you heard a whisper coming from their direction.

“Is this your favourite spot in the library?”

“Hm?” you hummed, dragging your headphones down to your shoulders as you swivelled towards the seated stranger. Air seized in your lungs and your eyebrows shot up.

The gorgeous skater boy glowed with rosy cheeks from the cold air outside, paired with his stunning smile. You realized this was the first time you’ve ever seen him smile—preciously, by the way, with his teeth on full display—and your heart stirred like crazy.

A beat stretched out. Your jaw hung in shock and you blinked blankly. Guess you solved the mystery as to where he was today.

He beamed more intensely at your awe struck and continued to whisper, “I always see you sitting here when I get to my next class.”

“Uhm,” your jaw snapped up, prior to your dry gulp. “What?”

“Yeah,” his deep chuckling tickled your ear. God, of course a smooth voice matched a face like that. “you stare out the window so cutely whenever I pass by the library.”

A record scratched, then you rewound the moment in your head. Not only did he knew you existed but...

Did he just called you cute?

Catching on with awareness over his own words, the skater boy pouted to one side. His cheek jutted out adorably and red seemed to crawl over them, progressing over to the tips of his ears too.

Light giggling from both parties filled the space, with you tucking your hair behind your ear and him tugging on the ends of his sweater paws.

“So, are you skipping class?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

“Yeah,” he replied, gesturing towards his busy study set-up ahead of him. It was a similar scene to yours—notes layered and layered upon each other, a laptop which displayed more notes, and a few textbooks were open too. “When you need to skip a class to study for another class...”

You nodded sympathetically, pointing a finger to your organized mess to imply the same. “Finals season.”

He nodded as well in unity and you two exchanged another round of smiles.

“I’m Yangyang.”

With that, introductions were made and bits of information were shared. Your hunch was right—he was in Engineering, but he also had some elective labs that were being held in the Science side of campus. Made sense why he had to navigate across campus from one end to the other.

Before the conversation began to get carried away, he issued a small apology. “Sorry, I really shouldn’t be interrupting your studying. I’ll leave you be.”

Admittedly, it caught you off guard. You wanted to pipe up about how he wasn’t interrupting, that you wanted to dive into getting to know him more. You’ve seen him practically almost every day for the last couple of months and you didn’t want to let this chance slip through your fingers.

Yet, at the same time, you begrudgingly knew he was right. You had to study for your upcoming in-class final, so you held your thoughts back and unwillingly turned back to your responsibility at hand.

It was difficult to study with skater boy being in the same vicinity as you—practically an arm’s length away from you—but you eventually tampered down your jitters and honed your attention.

Hours passed. Neither of you really shifted much besides the casual stretching or the much needed break to the bathroom.

Darkness loomed in the winter sky and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him writing, which he hadn’t done during the time he’d been there.

And then, after an ear-piercing slow rip of paper that echoed in the library, he slid that piece of paper in your direction with one simple question that ignited the spark for the beginning of you and him—

I know we just met, but do you want to go out sometime?

“’Cause if I recall...” Yangyang continues, breaking you away from your bout of reminiscing. He absentmindedly tucks away some loose strands of hair sticking out of your helmet. “You watched me at least since the beginning of last semester—”

“Nu-uh,” you cut in, lying in a childish tone.

“Yuh-huh,” he rebuttals.

Under the warm afternoon sunlight, you two begin to have a staring contest, squinting and playfully seething at one another. When your boyfriend squints harder with a ruffle of his nose, you follow suit. Eventually, you give in with a sigh.

“Okay, fine. Even if I did watch you a lot, it doesn’t mean I can just absorb your skateboarding skills through memory.”

Cockiness fades over his joking exterior as he flashes you a shit-eating grin. “It’s cause you were too busy focusing on my handsome face.”

Becoming second nature for you by now as he’s often like this, you roll your eyes and lightly punch him in the arm, but... he isn’t wrong.

And from your lack of an articulate response, Yangyang knows he’s right.

Sparing you from injuring your pride further, he swings the conversation back to what you were doing here in the first place.

A hand of his steadies you by the bottom of your back. “Balancing feels weird, I know, but you’ll get the hang of it. Let’s try again.”

Releasing a lengthy exhale, your head bounces fervently in hopes that false confidence and your boyfriend’s support can morph into a successful skateboard run.

The careful push he gives you is ample enough to have you ride down the street by yourself. Your body wavers side by side and you fear that you’ll teeter to a stop like all the other times, but somehow, your foot swipes across the pavement, carrying you further down the street.

It’s not fast by any means, but as you persistently execute it, you gain traction and see yourself finally riding without any issues.

“Yangyang, I got it. I got it!” you shriek as you quickly glance back towards him.

He radiates in response and gets lost in you, equally proud that you finally found your balance and basking in how stunning you look as you coast down the beach side street.

However, his trance breaks when he sees you’re about to hit the edge of a street curb.

“Babe, watch ou—”

The scene happens fast. You’re suddenly laying on a patchy part of the grass, with the skateboard by your feet. Yangyang bolts to you, hunching down as he daintily tugs you to sit upward.

“You okay?” he pants nervously.

At first, you nod without a thought since the helmet and wrist guards have saved you from any potential major injuries.

However, your boyfriend’s eyes widen when out of nowhere, you draw in air between clenched teeth. Your butt feels as if it’s on fire, since it was actually the body part that mostly broke your fall.

He suggests to sit here for a while to let the pain dissipate, reassuring you’ll be fine from his own past experiences.

As you rest awkwardly beside him on the grass, placing weight on your hip rather than your rear end, he aids you in ridding of your safety gear. Once they’re off, he kisses your hand tenderly.

“Maybe we should leave the skateboarding to me, for now,” he mumbles softly into your skin, leaving another kiss upon your hand.

You mope in agreement. “Maybe so...”

Caressed in his arms, you link eyes with him. Your eyes flutter to a close while he delicately eases you into him by the back of your neck.

The intense pressing of his lips against yours feels heavenly, almost entirely sedating your mild pain. He kisses you deeper, disregarding everyone and everything in proximity. You reciprocate it all back eagerly, cupping his cheek and gripping onto his strong frame as you do so.

Peeling away breathlessly, you tip your forehead against his. “Should we go back to the library and have me watch you longingly from our old spot?”

Yangyang hurriedly shakes his head.

“Nope. Never again,” he replies, his thumb stroking your cheek. “If you’re watching me skateboard, you’ll be doing it by my side from now on, beautiful.”

A chuckle trickles from you. You’re about to retort back, but your one and only skater boy diverts your train of thought, dragging you in for another long, blissful kiss.

#yangyang x reader #yangyang fluff #yangyang fanfic #yangyang imagines #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct fanfic #wayv fluff #wayv imagines #wayv fanfic #yn brainrot #beginningscollab

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bitzelyt · 3 years

Note

How do you make pixel art?

i put the little squares on the canvas until it looks good

pixel art has been an interest of mine for years. i used to just mess around with it in paint.net, or when i was making minecraft skins and resource packs. i didn't seriously get into pixel art until april 2020, when i made this tweet:

https://twitter.com/BitzelYT/status/1246631811628834818?s=20

people in the replies started asking me to make art of their minecraft skins in this style, (which you might recognize, because now people all over the place use a crappy mass-produced cookie cutter imitation of the style as their pfps (can you tell i'm upset about this?)) and i started pumping out several a day for free simply because i enjoyed doing it. as a result, i learned and improved a lot.

learning from outside sources also helped a ton. watching videos about pixel art really helped me understand the fundamentals. if you're interested, some things you'll wanna learn about are hue-shifting, jaggies, and anti-aliasing. the channel i think taught me the most was Brandon James Greer:

https://www.youtube.com/c/BJGpixel

he's made several videos about the basics, a video about choosing which software to use, and a ton of videos about his own projects, which are incredibly educational.

i started following a bunch of pixel artists on twitter as well. my feed is constantly filled with art from talented pixel artists that i can observe and learn from. here's a really cool resource you can use to find some pixel artists to follow on twitter: https://pixelartists.cat/lists/ (i am on the list which i think is very cool)

now i'm able to make stuff like this. which is better than before, i think.

so moral of the story is if you wanna get good at something just do it a lot and learn about it. who would've known.

#pixel art #pixel illustration #bitzel #mcyt

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bitch-for-bo · 3 years

Text

His Destined Miracle (Asahi Azumane x Chubby Reader) (omegaverse)

POST timeskip

Asahi had been in love with you practically since the first time he saw you. He'd find himself taking walks around the office just to catch sight of your beautiful face and sunny, warm demeanor. He always wanted to approach you, but he'd never had the courage. All he could do was hope that he encountered a miracle. Going into a rut during a day that office was NOT a miracle to Asahi. In fact, it was one of his worst nightmares, but when you show up on his doorstep, looking like an angel from heaven, he realizes that miracles come in all different ways... and that you were his destined miracle.

ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Hey Y/N can you run these copies to the boss’s office, I have to go to the bathroom or I think I might die!!” One of your over-dramatic coworkers asked as they practically threw a stack of papers at you. They were shifting back and forth, their knees knocked as they hopped around in a little bathroom ‘dance’

“Yeah, it’s no biggie.” You replied, giggling quietly to yourself as they hobbled/ran quickly towards the restrooms.

You looked down at the stack of papers in your hands, admiring the brilliant pieces of art on each page. The boss would be very happy with these. Of course, if he was unhappy with them, he wouldn’t tell anyone, the boss was the type who if he didn’t like what he saw, he would improve it and then deny all credit. Some in the office called him a pushover, but you thought that it was sweet that he did that.

You stood from your cubicle and began to walk to the bosses office, it was on the other side of the floor but you had already been planning on getting up to stretch your legs out soon anyway, so it had worked out.

You strolled through the office, not in any particular rush to get to the boss’s office. You greeted people that you passed, you knew everyone on your floor by name and you knew at least one fact about them, if they had pets or kids, what their hobbies were. You did this so that you’d never run into someone and not be able to ask them a question about their personal life, this ‘technique’ is what had made you so popular around the office, every time you would talk to someone, they would walk away with a smile on their face.

Your naturally sunny demeanor had always been your redeeming trait. When you were young, kids would mercilessly bully you. The names they would call you, ‘fatty’ or ‘ugly cow’ along with the treatment you received for being an omega was enough to tear a young you apart. You had started being overly nice to people to make up for all of your shortcomings, you found that if you were constantly sucking up to them and making them feel better about themselves, they wouldn’t hurt you.

Unfortunately, this had led to you not only being incredibly insecure with very low self-esteem, but also a doormat for people to walk all over. You were always doing people favors, getting them coffees, paying for their snacks at vending machines, even doing their work for them. Your friends would tell you to stick up for yourselves, they would even tell people off if they treated you poorly in front of them. They had begun to practically beg you to start saying no to people, but you didn’t mind being a bit of a push-over. After all, you still thought of yourself as a worthless, fat, omega cow that couldn’t do anything right and if you could be useful to someone, even if it meant staying an extra hour to file their paperwork for them, it was worth it.

You frowned at the memories as you walked, catching sight of yourself in the large windows that overlooked the beautiful city outside. You winced. Even though your friends were constantly telling you that you were beautiful inside and out, it was still hard to look at yourself in the mirror. All of the traumatic events of your childhood had really affected you. It was almost impossible for you to look at yourself and not despise the person you saw.

You arrived at the boss’s office, giving a light knock on the closed door.

“Come in please.” You heard the soft voice call from inside. You twisted the knob, opened the door, and entered the room, gasping at the sight before you.

Hundreds of designs were strewn across the floor, tacked to the walls, and pulled up on the computer monitor, and in the middle of it all sat a six-foot-two alpha who was currently smiling shyly up at you, his hand rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment of the mess.

“Hel-”

He stopped, his eyes wide as they stared at you. Clearly, you weren’t the person he’d been expecting. He stared at you for a solid five seconds, saying nothing as his eyes were frozen on you, making you feel extremely self-conscious and a little hot under the collar.

You cleared your throat, snapping him out of his daze.

“Excuse me.” You said. As soon as you’d spoken the boss had got up onto his knees and looked around as if wondering how he would get to you without ruining his designs.

“Sorry about the mess.” He mumbled, a large blush blooming on his cheeks as he scrambled up and towards you, trying (and failing) to avoid stepping on the designs.

“Please! Don’t apologize!” You stumbled, matching his anxious energy as your face adopted a blush of its own. “I just came to give these to you!” You squeaked, your arms holding out the designs as your gaze locked on the cluttered floor.

“Oh.” The large male said gently, his shoulders relaxing. “Thank you.” He said, more confidently this time. He’d noticed that you were emitting a strongly anxious scent, and something about it must’ve scared him and made him think that he was scaring you.

“Your welcome.” You practically whispered, your eyes not daring to meet his, “Have a good day.” You rushed out before rushed back out of the room, letting the door almost slam behind you.

‘Dammit!’ you thought, mentally slapping yourself. You couldn’t believe you’d made such a fool out of yourself. You just couldn’t help it, the boss was super intimidating. Plus he was an alpha.

Being an alpha meant that, since you were an omega, you had a natural urge to submit to him, it also meant that he was incredibly intimidating, borderline scary.

Usually, it didn’t matter that you were an omega. You took scent and heat suppressants to control your natural omega tendencies. The suppressors made it to where no wolf could smell you and you couldn’t smell any wolf. People could smell the basics on you, fear, happiness, sadness, they just couldn’t smell your natural scent, the scent that gave you away as an omega. The suppressants also kept you from smelling other wolves and ‘losing control’ of your own scent as a reaction. This all meant that even if you encountered betas and alphas in your daily activities, they wouldn’t know you were an omega and you wouldn’t be able to smell their natural scents either.

The only exception to this was when an alpha was in a rut, when they were rutting their noses were strengthened tenfold and they could sniff you out in an instant., but thankfully, society had progressed to the point that ruts were an excused absence from your job. Another time that the suppressants weren’t at their full potency was during your heat. Yes, it suppressed almost all of your scent, but depending on the strength of your heats, some would still leak out. Thankfully, heats were also excusable by employers. Luckily you’d never had to leave work for heat, you’d always been able to track it and take off plenty early so you could lock yourself in your apartment and suffer through it, and you’d also been lucky enough to never encounter a rutting alpha.

*******************

Asahi Azumane, aka the boss, was still standing in front of his closed door. He stared at the closed door, the designs he’d been given loosely clutched in his hands.

‘Dammit!’ he thought. He couldn't believe how he’d reacted. How embarrassing!

Ever since the newest member of the floor had begun working at the studio as a financial advisor, Asahi had been incredibly infatuated. Even though he’d never held a conversation with her due to his busy schedule, he never failed to notice the way she lit up the office. Everyone liked her and got along with her. Sometimes he’d overhear people talking about her, or sometimes he’d even overhear her talking to someone, she always seemed so warm and kind that Asahi couldn’t help but be a little jealous that he’d never received the honor of ever talking to her.

When she had been the one to open the door to his office, he’d been practically incapacitated. As soon as his eyes had hit her body he’d forgotten how to talk.

As a designer he couldn’t help but admire the classy style of her outfit, the warm red-orange turtleneck tucked into a pair of brown and tan flared slacks paired with black platform boots. It took all of his willpower not to pull out a pencil and sketch it for inspiration.

And as a man, he couldn’t help but admire how the outfit fit your body perfectly. The way that it hugged your form, complementing and accentuating the curves of your figure. It was enough to take his breath away and make the alpha in him roar with the need to claim and protect such a precious sight.

Unfortunately for Asahi, as soon as the encounter with the angel began, it ended. He was beating himself up for not saying something, for not inviting you to dinner, for only staring like a lovestruck loser.

‘She probably thinks I’m a total loser...or even worse a pervert!’ he thought glumly. He sulked back over to his designs, frustrated at himself for not being bold enough to call after the beautiful girl and ask for her number.

‘Then again,’ he thought, ‘Y/N is way too out of my league, she’d reject me in a heartbeat. Or even worse! She’d say yes out of pity!’

As he continued to work on his designs, the thought of the angel that had visited him was clouding his mind, making work impossible. He just couldn’t seem to forget the shape of her lips as she spoke or the way that the perfect outfit laid on her perfect body....her perfect hips….her perfect breasts.

“Fuck” he grunted quietly, shifting uncomfortably as he realized that he’d thought himself straight into having an erection.

‘I just couldn’t help it. She’s so beautiful.’ he thought.

He tried to struggle through his… problem, but it seemed that the more he tried to ignore it, the more it persisted. It was actually to the point that he was sitting in the middle of his office, red-faced and panting with a painfully obvious tent in his pants.

“What the fuck is happening?” He grunted, feeling his canines start to lengthen and his claws emerge. Could he be going into rut already? He wasn’t due for at least another week!

Was it seeing Y/N that made him go into rut early? How? Y/N wasn’t his mate….right? No. He would’ve known if she was his mate by her scent. He had no recollection of ever smelling her, was she on suppressants, was there a chance that she could be his mate?

‘Yep.’ Asahi thought as another wave of heat and desire burst through his body, ‘I’ve started my rut early…. I need to get out of here…. Need to go home.’

He practically crawled to his desk, grasping desperately for his phone so he could call the receptionist and ask her to remove all of the females on the floor from the building. The last thing that he needed or wanted was to set off any omega’s heat by accident.

“Hello, Mr. Azumane. Is everything alright?” The receptionist asked, surprised at the call seeing as Asahi rarely called, opting to physically walk to the desk and ask. He thought that it was more polite this way, plus it gave him a chance to catch a glimpse of Y/N at her desk.

“I need all of the women on the floor to temporarily evacuate, I’ve gone into a rut.”

The receptionist on the other end, that was used to dealing with Asahi’s over-anxious personality, just laughed.

“That’s incredibly unnecessary sir. I’m sure everything will be fine if you just leave out of the back stairs, you could even leave out of the fire escape if you’re that nervous.”

Asahi sighed and nodded. It was true that he’d be wasting everyone’s time if he asked for an evacuation. It wasn’t that big of a deal.

“Ok……” he said warily. “I’ll try.”

“Great!” The receptionist replied, “I’ll make sure to get someone to bring your work to your house tomorrow so you can continue to work from home.”

**********************

“Right here is good. Thank you.” You said, getting out of the cab and paying the driver. YOu glanced up at the tall apartment complex as the car drove away, leaving you to fend for yourself.

You thought back to what had happened not even an hour earlier. Yui at the front desk had asked you if you would be willing to take the boss some work. She said that he was sick at home and wanted to continue to work from there. Being the people pleaser that you are, you said that it was no problem and that was how you’d wound up standing in front of Asahi Azumane’s apartment complex with a thick file full of designs and a large container of soup.

You walked into the lobby before buzzing into Asahi’s apartment. Clearly, he’d been expecting someone to come with his work seeing as he buzzed you up almost immediately.

You entered and took the elevator to his floor, the floor third from the top. When the doors opened, you were met with a small entryway that led to a single door.

“A penthouse?” you mumbled to yourself. You couldn’t be super surprised, after all, he was the boss of your floor and probably made a very comfortable salary. Still, the building hadn’t looked small from the outside, and if Asahi had a whole floor to himself that meant that his flat was at least 4,000 square feet big. You knocked on the door.

It opened.

You automatically gasped.

The scent of sandalwood and rosemary hit you like a brick wall, forcing you to stagger back on your feet.

‘Oh, shit’ you thought, ‘they told me he was sick! Not that he was in a rut!’

You began to panic in the split second that the door had been opened. You wanted to run away, but seeing as Asahi was much stronger and faster than you, you knew that you wouldn’t stand a chance.

Maybe it wasn’t a strong enough rut to enable him to smell through your suppressants? No. There was no way it was a weak rut, not when Asahi was such a powerful alpha.

In your state of panic, you failed to notice two things. The first being the fact that your wolf was screaming something at you, and the second being the large alpha, looming over you in the doorway.

Asahi’s body was heaving with heavy breath. His claws were contracted and his canines were piercing through his bottom lip, causing the taste of blood to hit his tongue as he stared at the beautiful omega in the doorway to his apartment.

‘I didn’t know Y/N was an omega’

‘Why is she here?’

‘Can she smell that I’m in rut?’

Were all questions running through the alpha’s brain, but the most important thing running through his brain was the single word that his inner wolf was practically screaming at him.

Asahi looked down at you, causing a violent shiver to wreck through your spine. You whimpered, feeling yourself grow wet with desire. His lips curled back before letting out the most deafening growl ever. A growl so loud, you were confident that people down on the sidewalks had heard.

“Mine.”

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, you gasped and suddenly the voice of your inner wolf was crystal clear. ‘Mate!’ it was howling happily. Your eyes widened as the realization hit you like a ton of bricks. Asahi was your bond mate? YOUR BOSS WAS YOUR BOND MATE!

It made you want to faint out of surprise as well as anxiety. You considered if you could make a run for it, despite already knowing it was impossible. You were glancing at your surroundings when you finally remembered that Asahi, your mate, was still standing in front of you.

You looked at his tall frame in awe, your desire growing as you practically drooled over the sheer size of the alpha. He was huge, his broad shoulders, his built chest, and if you were to take a guess, you’d say that he was huge under the belt too.

You were so distracted ogling his body that you didn’t notice the way that his claws were digging into the flesh of his palms and how his canines had pierced his bottom lip hard enough to cause a small trickle of blood down his chin.

“Azumane! You gasped, setting the papers and soup on the floor in the hall before automatically stepping forward and grazing his hands with your own, careful to avoid the razor-sharp claws.

“No.” He grunted, trying to pull his hands out of your grasp. He feared if you stayed much longer he would do something out of his control, something unforgivable. “Please…..I don’t want to hurt you.”

You could see the pain and genuine fear in his eyes. You felt your heart fill with sadness and love at the same time. You couldn’t believe how much you’d been blessed. You had been given Azumane as a mate…. A man who was gentle and kind and was always so thoughtful of others. This was the man that you were destined to spend the rest of your life with.

Suddenly all of the fears and insecurities of not being good enough for people melted away from you. As your arms left Asahi’s hands to wrap gently around his neck, tears of happiness began to run down your face.

How could you have been so stupid? All of this time happiness and love had been right down the hall from you. You had deprived yourself of a partner to laugh with, to love, all because you felt inferior to others.

“You won’t hurt me.” You whispered, one of your hands nudging his face down closer to yours. “I trust you Azumane.”

Your lips were so close to his that you could feel his slightly labored breathing. His eyes were so close that you could seemingly see into his soul. You tried to tell him with your eyes just how hopelessly in love with him you already were.

Somehow, he must’ve felt it, because soon he was sighing into a soft kiss as one of his strong hands moved to hold your head as the other glided down your body to rest on your hip.

“Asahi….” he breathed, disconnecting your lips to look into your eyes.

“Huh?” you asked, slightly dazed from the passion of the short kiss.

“Call me Asahi, my love.” He said before once again joining your mouths in another heartfelt kiss, pulling your body flush against his own strong frame.

You moaned into the embrace, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck as he carefully swept you up off of the ground and began to carry you into his bedroom.

It all seemed like a whirlwind to you, but you couldn’t imagine it any other way. This was your soulmate…. Your other half.

Asahi’s body was alight with desire as well as he felt the effects of his rut in full force. He couldn’t believe how incredibly lucky he was to receive you as his mate. You…. the girl that he’d been admiring from afar, the one that, dare he say, he was already madly in love with. You couldn’t wait to spend eternity with you in his arms. When he held you, he felt like the strongest man in the world.

“Is this okay? I don’t want to force you. I’m in rut so I want you to be 100 percent sure that this is YOU wanting me, not your hormones.” Asahi whispered as he set you down on the edge of his bed.

There was no doubt in your mind that this was what you wanted. You didn’t care that he was in rut, you knew that the lust you were feeling barely had anything to do with your omega nature. You wanted him. You wanted him so bad that it made you want to cry.

“Asahi,” You whimpered, falling back onto his bed and staring up at him with a maddening blush on your cheeks. “I want you to claim me…”

“My love….” he growled before lunging back down at you, his lips attaching to your jaw with a renewed feverish manner.

“Asahi!” you gasped as his large hands roamed your body, his long fingers dancing across your hips that had been exposed as the blouse you were wearing was torn off of you, the buttons flying across the room.

He chuckled at your surprise before resuming his onslaught of love onto your body, his lips seeking out your breasts as his hands began to work at your slacks and then at his own clothes.

As soon as you were both fully nude, he leaned back, leaving reality to dawn on you as you realized that you weren’t actually fully over your insecurities. Your hands flew up to cover your face and stomach in embarrassment, you didn’t want Asahi to see you under such bright lights.

“I-I’m sorry I jus-” You whispered in shame, your eyes locking on a wall in his bedroom as you tried to explain.

“Let me see you.” He demanded, interrupting your pathetic stuttering with his strong hands clasping around your wrists and pulling them above your head. Your eyes closed tightly in humiliation.

Asahi’s eyes hungrily drank in your body. Every curve and arch was precious to him. He was practically drooling at how soft you felt under his hard body, how pliant you would be to his will.

“Beautiful,” he murmured to himself. Making your blush darken.

He brought his head down to your chest, his tongue piking out of his mouth and leaving a hot trail between your breasts. You moaned at the feeling of the appendage dancing its way down and across your stomach, down to your hips, until finally, Asahi’s head rested between your thighs.

His hands splayed out against the smooth flesh, admiring how soft they were in his grip. He could smell your arousal, turning him on that much more as he watched slick drip out of your hole and onto the meat of your upper thighs.

“One day.” He mumbled, half to himself and half for you to hear, “I will fuck these gorgeous thighs.” He said before swooping in and kissing the upper region of your legs. Biting and sucking dark spots into the sensitive skin.

“Asahi!” Was all you could manage to cry as his hands and mouth wreaked pleasurable havoc on your mind and body. You wanted him so badly. You could feel your cunt fluttering with need as slick dripped out of it, leaving a large damp spot on Asahi’s bedsheets.

“What do you want my love?” He asked, his eyes looking up from his position from in between your thighs to meet yours. You were suddenly overwhelmed at the sight of so much affection and adoration that laid in the dark brown pools.

“I want you Asahi….” you cried, panting as he quickly climbed up your body, lining himself up with you.

Both of you were hot and ready. The feeling and scent of desire clouding the room and leaving you both in a state of reckless lust. Nothing in that moment mattered but you and him.

Asahi connected your mouths once again as he pressed into you, his cock stretching your walls further than anyone had ever stretched them before. It felt so good…. so incredibly good.

“Asahi….” you gasped as he seated himself fully inside of you, the indescribable feeling of fullness making your body shake. “Please... Give me your cock.” A low growl ripped through his chest as his restraint finally snapped and his rut took over his mind and body. His hips began to snap in and out of your body at an almost lethal pace, leaving you writhing and gasping for air as you felt his primal instincts taking over.

“Yes!” you cried, your nails driving themselves across his upper back in a pathetic attempt to keep you rooted to this world. If the sheer size of his dick wasn’t enough to split you in two, it was the lightning-fast pace that his hips were thrusting into your body at, hitting all of the deepest areas of you, making you want to scream in pleasure.

As his cock drug in and out of you, rubbing against your walls so good that it took all of your breath away, you felt the tip of his cock but against your g-spot.

“Aah! Asahi!” You screamed, your walls clenching around him as stars painted your vision in pleasure. You couldn’t believe just how good he filled you up, how he reached every single place within you, drawing out the lewdest sounds, filling the rooms with your moans and cries as his cock pounded into you.

“You’re so beautiful” He gasped as you clenched around him, he was practically rapid with pleasure. He was slamming into you as his newfound goal in life was to please you, sucking on your neck as his hands roamed and gripped your body.

You could tell that since Asahi was in rut, his end was approaching much faster than it normally would and you would be lying if you said that you weren’t on the brink of orgasm as well. Apparently, Asahi had realized the same thing and was positioning himself to where he was hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, determined to make you fall apart first.

“Asahi!” You gasped, tears running down your face as your hands gripped his strong shoulders. “Asahi, I’m gonna come….”

“Yes, my love….” He grunted, picking up his pace impossibly more before bringing his fingers down to circle your clit. He could feel you getting closer and closer with the way that you sucked him back in with each thrust. “You take me so well.”

“Yes. Only you Asahi! You fuck me so good!” You babbled, your hips circling quickly in a sad attempt to keep up with the delicious feeling of his cock inside of you. You could feel the elastic of your orgasm pulling tight in your lower stomach. You knew that Asahi wouldn’t let himself come before you.

“Please….” you begged, teary eyes staring into Asahi’s lustful ones. “Please let me cum..”

“Yes my love.” he panted out, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he felt his own end rising. “Cum for me…” He said, his lips once again joining yours as your body was thrown off of the cliff into a sea of pleasure. You cried into his kiss, your body arching off of the bed as it shook with the overwhelming force of your orgasm. You swore that you temporarily went blind with the impact.

“I’m gonna come…..” Asahi breathed against your lips.

“Please…..come inside of me.” You begged, your legs wrapping around his hips and trapping his body against yours as his hips began to stutter and his cock burst inside of you, filling you with his hot seed.

“Fuuuuckkkk.” he groaned, pitching his head back as every fiber of his benign burned in the glory of his high. He continued to lazily thrust into you, bringing you both through your peaks.

As soon as you had been able to gain your breath again, he pulled you, leaving you incredibly empty. You whined at the loss.

“I need to take care of you.” He chuckled, climbing off of the bed to retrieve a towel from his bathroom to clean your body with. He kissed and massaged you as he gently wiped all of the cum mixed with slick off of your thighs, his face burning red at the lewd evidence of your lustful activities. You giggled as his docile, shy nature slowly returned, barely being able to make eye contact with you.

As soon as he was finished, he let you pull him back down onto the bed, despite both of you still being naked and sweaty. You closed your eyes, you knew that his rut would flare up again and you wanted to catch a quick nap before the second round.

Asahi just stared at your face as you drifted off to rest. You looked like an angel to him...so pure and beautiful. He knew then that he would always protect you, even if that meant laying down his own life. You were now his reason to live, you were his muse…..

You were his.

#haikyuu x chubby reader #haikyuu smut #asahi #haikyuuxreader #haikyuu 18+#asahi x reader

190 notes · View notes

redwinterroses · 3 years

Text

RIIIIIIIIIGHT SO.

I just finished chapter 13 of Dog At The Door and holy hot cross buns batman if you're not reading this fic you NEED to. It's literally one of the best written fics I have ever read in my life and I've been reading fanfiction for over 15 years, lol.

I went back and reread the entire fic to lead up to chapter 13 and I decided to treat it like I used to treat things I had to read in college so I took notes as I went and please I am warning you this post is incredibly long. Almost 3k words. PLEASE do not hit that "read more" button unless you're good with having to scroll past it all and also spoilers ahead. Proceed with caution.

~*~

Rereading Dog at the Door reactions (spoilers, obviously):

· Doc finding Ren’s body to be cold and for a second thinking he’s actually dead—my heart

· “That’s Ren, alive and kicking.” Oh…no, Doc. No it’s not.

· The first “Where is my hand?” hits different the second time through

· Gah the ice and winter imagery ALL over the place—my English degree brain wants to watch and see if that shifts to warmth at any point as we go? Thoughts for future Red to think.

· It’s fascinating to me to see Doc constantly thrust into the prey role. This is a guy who is very much not that person normally, but something about the Red King is beyond anything he’s really encountered before—or at least not since Dinnerbone—and it pushes him into an entirely new role that he clearly chafes in

· “I should get back to work on your new arm soon,” he says, making a mental note to add claws to the fingertips. Honestly Doc why tho. XD

· “It feels like something Ren would want him to do.” </3

· Side note: I just watched Doc’s freaking hour long shulker farm vid, and that’s making it a lot easier to hear his voice in this fic

· I’m more curious about the hand.” New Ren laughs a bit at his own words, as though there’s something funny about that phrasing. I MISSED THIS LINE THE FIRST TIME THROUGH

· The bead curtain being cursed hippie treasure XD

· The fact that Doc just so quickly accepts that Ren is gone—maybe not permanently, but at least for now—is kind of heartbreaking. Because you know he hasn’t really accepted it, he’s just… deciding not to feel anything about it. Just nod and move on and pretend you don’t need to stop and cope with the possible/probable death of your best friend and the fact that Someone Else is wearing his skin. That’s so sad.

· “high-fiving the finished hand with his own metal hand.” Aww… Doccy.

· “He shoos away the images of New Ren holding him up by the throat supervillain-style and turns around.” Hmmmmmmm want that fanart. Scary New Ren/RK is good stuff. (post-chapter-13 Red popping in with a WHAT THE HECK)

· “that makes him seem like a ghost in Ren’s body.” YA KNOW. LIKE HE IS.

· Okay side note time: why is the Red King here? Ya know? Like – in 3rdLife the idea of a possessing spirit of bloodlust makes some sense. But why stick around? Was RK trying to escape the 3L server, or was this not deliberate? At what point did he take over from Ren—at Black Heart Altar? In which case, was the whole idea Ren’s to begin with, or was he influenced? Maybe it happened the first time Ren died? The Red King took over then—or at least started to? Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts, thoughts…

· Wait more theories—what if RK is connected to the ????? entity that spoke to Martyn when he died? In which case, cMartyn said he was considering making that canonically a Watcher (he ended up not doing it, but he also didn’t do anything that contradicted it either). I’m not saying RK is a Watcher… but boy he sure does stare a lot, don’t he.

· Holding the screwdriver like a dagger—mmmm

· Okay funny thought: all this frost, RK’s gonna need to be real careful about rust lol. And straining the metal, tbh, all that freezing and thawing is going to have an effect but the rust idea is making me laugh

· Until I realized it would look like blood and it’s not funny anymore

· “Renbob is in the beanbag stuffed next to the driver’s seat” right so is this where Renbob sleeps because I have been wondering—

· “something about having two people look like Ren when neither of them are makes Doc stop to take a shaky breath” *sob*

· “Renbob clears his throat, looking up at Doc with a smile that is so obviously fake that it hurts.” Ugh the LOT of you stop repressing everything you’ll give yourselves a collective hernia

· “he’ll probably have to break the news to the other hermits, too, Iskall and False and all the others.” All these painful lines I somehow missed the first time through

· Awww warm air comes in when Renbob opens the door—with the flowers and everything, Renbob is so easily associated with spring, I love this contrast.

· Aaand there it is, yup, RK is shocked to see his face on Renbob, and Renbob is shocked to see that this is so clearly Not Ren.

· They both recover pretty quickly, though. Survivors, both of them.

· RK calls Renbob their “ferryman” and I’m not sure if I was supposed to get “crossing the river Styx” vibes from that But I Did. (does RK think he’s dead? That they’re all dead?) (post-chapter-13 Red here with a little bit of wordless screaming.) (and also a bit of pride that I picked up on this.)

· “And what a help you’ve been! Fixing me up, replacing my hand.” Hi yes, 911? there’s a dagger stabbed into my feels.

· “he’d rather remember rage than see another person’s heart break.” Dang that’s such a raw line. Oof.

· ”the Red King says, his voice hoarse with tears.” Really interesting that this blood deity can feel such emotions—like, anger or even fear, I can get. But to see this entity upset to the point of tears is fascinating.

· “There is a crown on Doc’s workbench.” Right, yeah so like—is RK unwillingly manifesting these artifacts? Because that’s wild, man. …how long before he manifests an “enchanter”?

· “I’ve never seen it [the crown] clean before.” Okay that definitely implies that maybe RK didn’t come around until after Black Heart Altar?

· “The Red King has the crown in his lap when Doc turns back around, claws gently tracing over the engravings, leaving frost patterns behind.” I really wish I had art skills because there’s this image in my head of a drawing of the crown held in RK’s hands, with his face (one eye glowing, one in shadow) reflected in the surface, and frost patterns following behind a claw that’s daintily tracing the surface. But I can’t draw so—

· RK asks for a change of clothes. What was he wearing when they rescued him, I wonder? The Red King outfit with the fur capelet? Or Ren’s Stargazer outfit? Which begs the question: where does Stargazer fit into all this? Was Ren’s return to Hermitcraft RK free, but when he came so close to dying to Sith, RK found that as a gateway to take over? (Post-13 Red here, Looking Intently at this note.)

· Awww… the image of a one-legged RK clutching new clothes to his chest and hopping down to change in the bathroom… That’s weirdly endearing. He’s less menacing when he stands up somehow. Less lurking, maybe.

· Oooohhhhh he messed up his back sleeping on the floor. Gotcha.

· Doc keeps telling himself (and RK) that saving him and working on these parts is “the right thing to do” and while he’s not WRONG I just want to see him realize that it’s not only the right thing, it’s realistically the only thing, because if he didn’t, then he’d have to deal with the fact that he’s lost his best friend and we can’t have that.

· “I don’t need to eat” ummmmmm no hold on this definitely implies that RK is possessing a dead body and I’m not okay with that where is Ren

· LOLOL “I can’t stand to see [you do] this” is such a raw line to be about watching Doc eat cereal with his hands

· “The voice doesn’t belong to who he thinks it does.” Ugh, Doc. This isn’t the first time he’s lost a close friend to Something Else, something otherworldly.

· “All of them are waiting for him, waiting for him to do something more, something better—” aaand there it is. Doc’s characterization in this fic in a single sentence.

· Doc waking up and thinking he’s seeing Ren and RK’s hesitation and the gentle “I’m not Ren”—OH MY HEART

· RK’s coffee = Renbob’s friendship bracelets

· Randomly can I just say that I love how RK’s dialog is all in italics? It concerned me at first because I thought it was going to keep pulling me out of the narrative, but instead it really just feels right. Also I’m looking forward to the moment when he says something and it’s not in italics because it’s REN and oh my lands please give this to me I beg you (post-13 Red here with a bit more mindless screaming)

· “watch your tongue with me, Atlas, because I’m the one person you can pass the sky to.” Okay okay okay—English studies brain coming out. This suggests that there is a burden RK and Doc can share: something Doc is currently struggling against that only RK can help him with. In the moment, I don’t know if this is really fair of RK to say—after all, Doc does technically have Renbob too, if we’re just talking about Doc’s unhealthy coping mechanisms. In fact, if that’s the context, then Renbob is a much better fellow-Atlas because he and Doc have known each other much longer and they’re both dealing with the loss of Ren. BUT, knowing about the upcoming conversation where Doc and RK both realize that they’ve lost someone (Ren for Doc, Martyn for RK) this line suddenly has a lot more weight. Again, I don’t think that in that moment RK quite has the right to pull this zinger. But in later context, it turns out to be true after all. They are the only two with this particular shared pain.

· Doc upset with himself because he can’t get over his “stupid hang-ups” DOC MY LAD. “I’ve lost my best friend, you’re in his body, and I don’t know how to process any of these emotions” is not a “stupid hang-up” PLEASE stop blaming yourself for everything!?

· “I’m so tired” in the middle of his nightmare—oh my gosh. That hurts so much for some reason.

· I also very much wish I had the ability to draw the image of Doc with tears on his face, staring dead-eyed down at his workbench while RK looms over from behind, pinning his wrists to the table with one metal arm and one frost-bitten one, a look of exasperation and concern on his face. Why can’t I draw the things

· “How do you know Etho” “I watched him die.” OW ow ow ow ow

· Doc takes this as calmly as only someone used to living in a world where death has low consequences can. Oh. Oh—that means… huh. Doc isn’t used to losing people permanently on any basis, especially not death. So no wonder he doesn’t know how to process Ren being gone (I can’t bear to write “dead” there). He literally doesn’t have context for it… and what context he DOES have is like—I mean, Etho and Bdubs came back. Ouch.

· “Twenty-five.” The Red King makes the number sound like a threat. Yet another banger line I missed the first time through. Imagine waking up and thinking you’re in 3rd Life again but instead of 14 players there’s almost twice that many and you think you don’t know any of them.

· I still don’t quite understand the “when was etho added/should have known there was something different” bit or why RK is so emotional about it… but I have trust that it’ll make sense at some point. (post-13 Red: ...is this something about the fact that he thinks he's dead...so he thinks Etho has died before? Like, that 3rd Life wasn't Etho's first hardcore? ...I feel like I'm almost grasping this but I'm missing an element somewhere.)

· And now a sword. RK. My man. You need to stop manifesting things—especially when they scare the ever-living daylights out of you.

· I absolutely adore the in-universe lore that Fire Aspect is a PvP enchantment because it threatens dropped loot, and yeah I very well might steal that. (Along with something I read at one point who-even-knows-where that Knockback is a coward’s enchantment, because I love that too.)

· He really shouldn’t. / Doc picks up the sword by the scabbard and hands it to him, hilt extended. Doc you already trust this guy so much and you don’t even know it—but is it just because you still subconsciously trust the face he wears? Or is it something deeper?

· Ugh, the “I was supposed to kill someone for him” conversation/scene is SO FREAKING GOOD

· “I don’t want it. Not like the crown.” Why, though? Why doesn’t he want it? Because it’s more to do with death than kingship? OH. Oh, I hadn’t even considered that. I’ve been thinking of RK as this like, god of blood and vengeance but maybe he’s not. Maybe he hates the bloodshed (“the blood! It’s drippin’ in me eyes… I’ve been blinded by the violence…”) just as much—more?—than Ren did/would have. Huh. That’s a new facet.

· Oh my heart the “have you ever lost someone and it was your fault” line. Dagger to the feels. Dagger to the feels.

· This like… “I’m on a roll and even though I know I should stop I really don’t want to” mode? Man. That’s relatable. Especially when you’re working to avoid dealing with something else.

· “Not making it for you—it’s for Ren” oh ouch ouch ouch the denial suddenly breaks through it’s okay, Doc I’m with you on this

· The second time reading through it’s far clearer that Doc has a blind panic attack here—when he starts rambling that Ren’s coming back, he’ll be there for season eight and RK goes to…do whatever he was going to do and Doc just blanks out. The manic productivity should have been a warning sign, the poor guy is crumbling.

· “Doctor” and “he’s not sure he deserves that title right now” UGH Doc needs a hug someone please hug him and tell him it’s all going to be okay. Someone please hug me and tell me it’s all going to be okay.

· “his hand on his throat” over the scar from the Red Winter axe? </3

· “I did do that. I have done that.” RK admitting to it actually having been him in Doc’s nightmares?

· Okay sorry the conversation about beating Dinnerbone will never not be funny to me

· RK mentions that people used to call him m’lord or Ren, and then mere minutes later you have “Ren. You couldn’t save him because of me, could you?” He knows exactly what’s going on here. Not maliciously, but he’s no dense-head, he’s put the pieces together. (post-13 Red: MOST of the pieces. Most of them.)

· Watching Doc slowly stop fighting his nightmares—like, the first time, he fights. The second time, he accepts it but still struggles. And this time… this time he gives up before it even starts. That hurts, man.

· Good grief the whole “get my head chopped off” / “you really don’t want that” bit. O.O I’m not sure what emotion I’m feeling but I’m Feeling An Emotion.

· “Snow’s new. Dream’s not.” </3

· …Doc’s not gonna be a fan of snowier-snow after this trip…

· "Dr. M77" Actually he’s Doc Monster, RK, but we’ll let it go. XD

· OKAY BUT THIS EXCHANGE? The “how are you feeling” / “better” / “you’re a bad liar” / “I said better not great” that’s such a good exchange and I don’t know why every other time I’ve ever seen it used they stop at the lying accusation? Doc with the snappy comebacks, man.

· Aaah, Doc and RK, two establishment bros bonding over a shared disdain for hippies.

· The bit about the fella who wore an iron helmet and called it a powdered wig—fear is in my heart. *shoves Scar into an obsidian box and blocks it closed*

· “Who was Ren to you?” </3

· Doc is more than willing to spread the flames, to sear his loss into RK’s bones. / The king’s face stops him. Ren’s face stops him. Holy CRAP is that a good set of lines. So much going on there, and ALL of it good.

· Again. I wish I could draw. I would draw RK sitting on the edge of the bed, gently hugging a collapsed-in-on-himself Doc. </3

· “And I hate the devil that forced us apart, that mixed my blood with his.” *adds another layer to Scar’s obsidian fort*

· OKAY STARTING CHAPTER THIRTEEN I made the mistake of logging into Tumblr earlier and saw people screaming so I’m sure I’m not ready for this but here we go

· Oh no RK has been hippie-ified

· “You started a paramilitary organization because you have hay fever?” *dies laughing*

· Ugh I need to go back and watch s6 I’ve only seen the tail end of Mumbo’s side of things and there’s so much I don’t know.

· HAHAHAHAH I do know the trident bit though—

· Wait he said Scar

· PANIC

· “Kingslayer. bloodthirsty. Time King. The coward. And the mastermind behind it all, the loyal soldier to the very end, the whole damn reason either of us are in this mess.”

· HOLY CRAP HOLY CRAP HOLY—

· “Is this the afterlife I deserve? After everything, this is the hell I’m going to endure?” I AM SCREAMING

· Doc pinned to the wall with ice, struggling to breathe—I CAN’T WHAT IS HAPPENING

· ((You know I’d get through this a lot faster if I stopped pausing to write reactions—))

· “A break in the ice. A whisper of spring.” Symbolism. Symbolism.

· “Ren was dead when I found him again,” NO I REFUSE TO READ THIS

· “don’t use the hand I built you to hurt yourself” DOC. SIR. MY HEART.

· RK don't run, RK get back here—what are you—

· I

· JUST

· ACTUALLY

· SCREAMED

· AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

· *several long moments of just breathing*

· *rereads*

· Holy crap on a garbage cracker with an extra serving of what-the-heck sauce

· REN

· Okay lol okay hahaha calming down

· I literally threw myself back in my chair away from the computer reading that last paragraph. I don't usually... physically react to things I read. LOL. Heh. I’m. Ah. I’m not emotionally invested in this or anything.

· Holy crap.

· Okay. Okay. Okay.

· Um.

· Great chapter, guys. Awesome stuff. Really good. I’m absolutely okay right now and it’s all totally fine.

· …please enjoy your break and get lots of rest and I very much look forward to the return of this fic you have no idea.

· I need to go breathe for a little bit.

EDIT: no, you know what--I'm not going to be a nice polite fangirl over here and quietly hope y'all see this I'm straight up tagging you, @fluffy-papaya and @betweenlands. THANK YOU but also how dare.

#The only reason I'm even posting this is for my own remembering later #and i guess if fluffy or solar want to see my mindless ramblings -- go nuts #long post #redwinterreacts #redwintertalks #dog at the door

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cherriesradio · 3 years

Text

Class 1-A relationship headcanons

Part 1 -> https://cherry-cake-pies.tumblr.com/post/640877154337538048/mha-relationship-headcanons-class-1-a

Fluff

Mashirao Ojiro

Remember when you where a little kid and would collect flowers at recess and give them to your teacher? Yeah that’s him

Makes little flower crowns

Idk this boy just really likes flowers okay

Their a secret for a while and because he’s not friends with everyone no one really “finds out” and the just tell the class

Aizawa kinda knew they were together the whole time it was obvious it’s just no one paid attention

Y/n is willing to get in fight for people they care for and Ojiro will just pull them away with his tail from beating some kid who made fun of Deku

They call him “Lovely little Monkey” cause he’s only 5’4 or around there and they find it cute

When it gets more serious he makes a vow to them that he will never hit them or hurt them in anyway and it’s the sweetest thing ever

When y/n is having a bad day he’ll just come at them with a million bad puns and pick up lines to make them laugh

Y/n likes wearing his Martial Arts clothes and he’s like “would you actually wanna learn?” And after a second of thinking they nod their head at rapid speed

Denki and y/n are the only people who can touch his tail (him and Denki are great friends try to change my mind)

When he’s a pro hero y/n and him are partners and they don’t tell the public their together

Every fan ships them

So one day they think no one is watching them after a fight and they kiss and congratulate each other on how good they did

Turns out there were a ton of cameras around them and it was on the news

Y/n almost killed the network ngl

Denki Kaminari

He may seem like a perv but he’s only a perv at home don’t worry ❤️

Anyways (cause writing THAT made me uncomfortable)

Y/n makes him study and sometimes he doesn’t and they’ll check to see if he’s studying and at some point their just like

“I’m gonna study with you to make sure you study”

He did study when they were with him :)

Drop kicks Mineta when he hits on y/n even tho he knows y/n and him are dating

When y/n doesn’t know he’s there he’ll go up to them and give them a small zap and they’ll giggle

(Okay druggie Denki coming through) y/n helps him get out of addiction 😌

Puts him in rehab if it’s bad bad

Once Bakugo made fun of their relationship and behind Denki’s back y/n beat him to the ground and the next day he had a black eye and some bruises and Denki was like “bro what happened” “nothin”

They mess with Ojiro’s tail together

Y/n will rant and he just sits staring at them and nodding occasionally

👏watching 👏crappy 👏 tv shows / movies 👏 together 👏👏👏👏👏

When he’s in dumbass mode y/n will throw him over their shoulder and bring him to the dorms and the whole class finds it so funny

On Twitter and other social media they will post a pic of the other and the text is just a keyboard smash

Before they got together he would do that but in the Bakusquad group chat and Bakugo just left the chat at some point cause he was tired of random clearly not asked for pics of y/n and just “akaoqiwbbejwhbwoqj I thinking I’m simping”

Relationship is not a secret whatsoever

He just went up to them in the middle of lunch, got down on one knee, took one of their hands and asked them to go out with him and after bursting into laughter y/n said yes

The embodiment of “COUPLES ARE A COMPETETION AND I AM WINNING HAVE YOU SEEN MY SIGNIFICANT OTHER!?!??”

He’s protective but also if no ones eyeing y/n or hitting on them he’ll low key be offended for y/n like “how dare they not find you to be the hottest/ cutest/ most wonderful being in the universe?”

Kirishima

If y/n is tired after training then he’ll pick them up bridle style and the Bakusquad calls him a simp

It’s literally the most healthy relationship you could ever imagine

Neither will hesitate to call the other out if their being unfair/ not putting effort into the relationship or “unmanly” as Kirishima says

Makes sure each of them get a good amount of self care as well as taking care of the other

Rarely fight, get in arguments but settle it out peacefully and with respect for one another

He would break up with y/n if they make him feel less or like he has to “be good enough for them” because he heavily values self worth because of this insecurity’s in middle school

Y/n makes him feel like he can do anything tho so don’t worry

Sometimes y/n just sits down and stares at Kirishima whiles he’s ranting about something he’s passionate about and smiling

Then he’s like “why are you staring?”

Y/n: *absolutely star struck* “u pretty”

Has hot coco in the summer

Making pillow/ blanket forts and when their done using them jumping on top and destroying them

Y/n will run at him from behind and he hears their footsteps and then shifts to pick them up for a piggy back ride

Swinging their arms around when they hold hands 😫

Y/n snorts when they laugh and their insecure about it and then Kirishima is like “okay then I’ll not try to make them laugh to much so they don’t snort and feeling bad!” And then y/n thinks he’s less interested in them

And then he makes up for it in making them laugh a ton (like to where they start coughing) and cudddle up to them and tell them how he loves their snort

Get each other gifts and ONLY gives them in front of the rest of the class to flaught how much they adore each other

Fist bumps are a form of intimate affection and you can’t change his mind

So are high fives

Even if they break up they will still be really good friends

Kirishima metions how he really likes how Bakugo makes a random food and y/n will force him to teach them how to make it

Forehead kisses Forehead kisses Forehead kisses Forehead kis-

Has a new pet name for each other every day

Fat gum has to approve (he does, he adores y/n)

Kirishima and y/n definitely call him dad

Tamaki meets them and after he tells Kirishima “their really nice you have good taste” and then feels bad because he made it sound like food

All four are just best friends and after the raid y/n totally takes them all out for boba or something like that because they are proud

Kouji Kouda (Koda)

Very, very slow relationship

It was like 6 months in before they kissed

Every time he leaves a room he’ll be like “bye I love you!”

Doesn’t get jealous at all

Like a guy could literally slap their butt and he’ll just sit their like “well that’s not very friendly” and then y/n tells him how it made them uncomfortable and he’s like “OH NO I SHOULD OF HELPED”

Dates at the park

Y/n will see like a squirrel or bird or something and be like “Koda Koda go say hi tell it hi for me please”

The type to look up how to be romantic and he just sits at his computer like “why would I kiss them in the rain????? We would be wet and uncomfortable?????”

First date is at a petting zoo

They (Koda would not propose) proposed at that same petting zoo but made arrangements to where no one else would be there so he wouldn’t be embarrassed

Legit learning Morse code or silent language so he doesn’t have to talk

Little notes left on their desk before their together and y/n’s friends are all like “you have a secret admirer~~~” and he glances over to blushing y/n and stiffens, blushing

Y/n always getting the spiders

At first wanted to do the “cover with a glass slip a piece of paper let it free” method but then he got paranoid they got back in the dorm

At the start of the relationship whenever y/n even breaths he’s staring at the ground blushing

Once they were cuddling and he had his head in their chest (uncomfortable for y/n but they deal) and they started singing and he melt on the spot

When they feel down in the morning and Koda can’t walk with them back to the dorms for whatever reason a trail of little rabbits and other cute animals will follow them trying to cheer them up

Rikidou Satou

Constantly baking for y/n, after something runs out he will have something even better ready to give to them

Teaches has them to bake

Self doubts when y/n is around good looking people and tries to show off his muscles to show that he’s worth them

Y/n knows he deserves them ❤️

Some times he’ll make something super sugary and shares with the class and their all like “????? This is so sugary I can’t eat this???????”

And y/n is munching on it and everyone knows that he makes them stuff like this all the time

“How in the world are you still fit?” “Lots and lots of working out and only eat healthy outside of it. No chips or anything , and it’s fine”

Randomly declares that he loves random thing about them

“I love how their hair smells after they shower!” “Okay Satou anyways when are we gonna-“

Y/n said he was a good kisser once and now every time he sees them walk in the room he makes a kissy face

Taking random walks around campus

And they talk to people they pass by

Like so many people around the school know about them and they become known as “that one really cute walking couple”

#mha #bnha #bnha x reader #ojiro x reader #denki kaminari #denki x reader #Kirishima #kirishima x reader #kouji kouda #Koda x reader

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cafeleningrad · 2 years

Text

From all god damn nostalgia fandoms my colleagues could be into, they're into Naruto and I've thoughts about it, again. Hello 12 year old me!

But apart from any jokes I've zero interest in engaging with the fandom even more the meta because it's ultimately pointless to go through all the Hiruzen-slander, or Uchiha-lore, trying argue for or against Sakura because ultimately Naruto in Shippuden, in it's end is an entire different beast than it's classic beginning.

So, Naruto was a series made for Shounen Jump who's target audience are young teenage boys. The point of Naruto 'n friends being Ninjas who got into tough fights in which people spit fire, throw knives at each other, summon gigantic animals, or teleport through puddles wasn't set up commentary on child soldiers. Ninja-wizards running around in an action setting is the action shit stuff young teens love.

Sure, observed the premise of Naruto under a critical lense, Naruto living on his own since he was a baby is at least a case for the ninja from Child-care-services-gakure to at most extremely unlikely to have survived on his own. (I mean, getting nit-picky, why would people have let survive the kid harbouring the fox-monster in first place???) Same goes for Sasuke living on his own or being as emotionally and mentally stable as he is. Or Hinata. Same for Neji or for Gaara recovering as quickly after being tackled down my talking-no Jutsu. But you now what this unrealistic scenario is very much the same dramatic stuff you about people's first OCs because well duh, again, a series for young teens. A certain lack of realism in a world in which Foxes of thensize of Mount Rushmore live in a mouthy 12-year-old kid could be accepted.

I know, I know, Naruto later became super critical about it's own premise it set up Shippuden but frankly, I can't agree to any anti-Hiruzen-sentiment because Hiruzen's entire function in classic Naruto was the one of a grandfatherly mentor-figure, no more critical thought spent on Naruto's actual life before the start of the story

But we're also talking about an environment in which stuck up adults can get beaten by an oiroke-no-jutsu. Like, the entire world of Classic Naruto was a bit nuts and silly. Naruto transforms into a cute girl just to mess up annoying adults, wins a fight by farting, his mentor is a die hard fan of and constantly has his head stuck between the pages of this world's version of "Fifty Shades of Grey", his next mentor is the best-selling author of named series, that way of running (we all know what I mean), side characters recognizable mostly by very outstanding quirks. The entire world of classic Naruto was whimsical and kinda adoring the details to no end. Be it the art style depicting Konohagakure as a town full full of different shops and quirky architecture, Naruto having plants standing around because his hobbies include gardening, or every character wearing a unique wardrobe, including their choice on where to wear their headbands.

Look, I neither envy nor feel I can blame Kishimoto for weird writing choices. The Shounen-Jump is hell for draining their creator's energies and resources in many ways. The fact even millenium exceptions like Eiichiro Oda come to struggle, indicates how hard it must be for those who don't posses his exceptional stamina and flow of ideas. Definitely a lot what I'm going to criticize is very likely related to Jump not giving their artists the chance to take a break, recover, gain new energy to rejuvenate themselves or their ideas.

Still, when focusing on the plot- progression only, I believe the essence of what made Naruto beloved by so many in it's run shifted rather drastically.

All in all, I think what happened in Naruto Shippuden (well actually kinda beginning at Sasuke's retrival arc beginning to shift the story's focal point on Sasuke's and Naruto's rivalry as driving force :/ ) is what happened to Star Wars with it's sequels:

Overexplaining the whimse actually giving the world it's essence; at some point self refering to it's biggest hits (Tenseigan arc... sure some parts were emotional but man... that was fanservice for hype's sake...), and making everyone special.

In theory I've nothing against Naruto being Minato's son (my suspicion is his looks in classic Naruto weren't designed on accident) but what was charming about Naruto as a disregarded orphan, an underdog protagonist was him much unlike his usual contemporary shounen counterparts (speaking from the date of his first appearence in Jump in the late 90s). Even Gon or Son Goku were already talented from the beginning whereas Naruto may be funny but has to work hard for his achievements. A nobody underdog creating his own place and meaning in life is a super strong concept for a protagonist - if not a great message for young readers.

Yet... in the end Naruto is a reincarnated god or something, so is his rival???Who's family and their Ramen-to-Tonkatsu-gan as 2684th version of the sharingan, in fact Konoha from all various Ninja villages is suddenly the center of all attention. By that point the story could as well has been named "UCHIHA vs the WORLD!!! feat. that runs after that one dense family member (if that wasn't the Jump we could offically name it as it is: gay)".

The existence of jutsu needs to be explained when the audience before just did fine with the idea of "chakra".

Another self-reference and kind of a betrayal regarding the original's theme of becoming your own person was team 7 being carved as copy of the legendary three sanin over taking their abilities and symbolism (RIP Sakura's potential of better character developement.)

Okay, I'm not argumenting properly anymore. So some small notes: * The ninja fights were always a tad bit unrealistic from actual ninja fighting style (surprise who would've guessed orange is an unsuitable for an occupation entailing espionage...). Still the power limit was extremely clear from the beginning. The adults knew more jutsus with more impact, the fights were strategic as no kekkai genkai was so unique as a meteor crushing an opponent to overpower them. In Shippuden ninja abilities are just allover massive impact sayin attacks. * Where on Earth was Iruka, Naruto's central parental figure, during Naruto's emotional struggles?? * So much of the humor is gone. Aside from a few jokes here and there a lot of fun and silliness from the beginning is missing. * The lack of environmental details, more and more reduced individuality in clothing style already in the art style showcase how little energy and thoughts were left for the world.

Don't even get me started on the ending. Konoha destroying, preying on teenagers, organizing an infiltration of not only one but two ninja villages, killing one Hokage Orochimaru is now just the quirky uncle. Naruto and Sasuke who's common trauma was the lack of a loving family in life are bad parents???

One note on Sakura. Arguing about her being "useful" or "good character" is kinda pointless in my eyes because ultimately that would mean trying to make sense of the splotchy development and characterisation she got over the story. (Where was her talent for genjutsu?? Where was potential for her not having to fit the self-referential mold? Boy, I could write a long ass post what I would've loved to happed to her.)

In the end this rant became a full blown mess, and it will take me a while before I can formulate fully structured arguments but my final point is: I can't get meta about a story which is initially split in essentially two different spirits.

One being a quirky world for a young teen action shounen story. The other being a supernatural drama about the Uchiha clan feat. that runs after that one dense family member (if that wasn't the Jump we could offically name it as it is: gay).

#Lewis ranting #naruto rant

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whentheynameyoujoy · 4 years

Text

So the ATLA Movie Is... Good, Actually?

Just kidding, of course it’s not, it’s so bad it sucked the paint off my walls. But after ten years of people pointing out its glaring flaws, why would anyone bother talking about this garbage heap if not to go the other direction? So here’s a very brief and very superficial list of things the movie does get kinda... not atrociously wrong.

And they won’t be fake hipster pokes, like “It’s fun to laugh at”, “The Rifftrax for this is OK”, or “Kudos to the actress for managing to say we believe in our beliefs as much as they believe in theirs with a straight face”.

(though now that I mentioned it, it is fun to laugh at, the Rifftrax for this is OK, and massive props indeed.)

Rasta Iroh

Yes, I know it’s not exactly the aesthetic of the real Iroh or that it makes no cultural sense for him to sport this do when no one else in the racebended Indian “OMFG what were you thinking Shyamalan” Nation does but goddamn, long-haired dudes are my one mortal weakness and I will ogle the hell out of him.

Jesus is that a man bun I see that’s it mum I’ve been deaded

Yue’s hair

No.

Now we’re talking. Yue’s hair turned white when the Moon spirit gave her life, so it makes sense for it to go black again when she sacrifices herself to revive the koi fish. It’s a neat detail I find myself expecting whenever I rewatch the scene in the show. Yes, I realize it’d be a pointless hassle to animate since she, unlike in the movie, immediately goes on to become the Moon herself but still. I like.

The Blue Spirit’s mop

Zuko, hun, what’s with the dance-off?

First of all, I want to imagine that Zuko the Theatre Nerd was about to leave his ship with just the mask like in the show but then stuck his head into the cleaning cupboard and went, “Yeah, more coverage might be good, even though it do seem mighty fried to shit”.

Which makes me giggle. I like to giggle.

And secondly, the hair’s movement is what makes the static mess of the Blue Spirit’s solo fight scene appear at least bit more dynamic because God knows the cinematography isn’t doing it.

Any particular reason why it’s at the edge of the action, shot all boring-like?

Now, I get why circular shots would be reserved for Aang while he’s in the practice area and then used once the two join forces. What I don’t get is why Aang’s part of the action scene has a defined visual style while Zuko’s delegated to a few stationary wide shots from afar as though he’s a tertiary goon, meaning that when the time comes to combine the respective pieces of cinema language and visually convey collaboration, there’s not really much to combine.

But as long as Zuko is stuck in this static mess, it’s that awesome disaster on his head flopping about that draws the eye, helping me understand that something even is going on over there.

It also prevents me from paying much attention to how the extras are mostly just staying put and a lot of the hits don’t land, so that’s good.

The music slaps

James Newton Howard is too good for this.

youtube

Pls ignore that the word “gods” is used in the ATLA universe

I can’t be the only one who constantly uses this piece to daydream about writing specific fanfic scenes instead of, you know, actually sitting down and writing them. It’s just so good at communicating a sense of sorrow while speaking of rebirth that I find myself getting misty-eyed whenever I listen to it. Unfailingly, the soundtrack as a whole manages to break through the mile-thick crust of horrible acting, confusing writing, and uninspired cinematography and make me feel things. And considering how everything on screen is working against it, that’s no small feat.

Imagine what a powerful experience it would be if the score was used in service of an actual movie.

Dev Patel

No wonder since he’s the only one in the film occupying that crucial intersection between “is a good actor” and “was given something to work with”. It also doesn’t hurt that he breaks with the trend of actors starring in martial arts flicks despite never having done any martial art.

And all EIP-jokes about “stiff and humorless” aside, he’s a pretty decent Zuko considering how abridged this version of the character is. A while ago, I remember hearing a reviewer say that with his comedic chops, Patel should have been cast as Sokka. And on one hand, yes, god, absolutely, I need to see that asap. But on the other? He captures all layers of Book 1!Zuko, the desperate obsession, rage, and self-loathing, and at the same time gives you a peek at the soft momma’s boy dork that’s buried underneath. For Christ sakes, he exudes intensity and ambivalence even when acting against an emotionless hunk of wood that’s giving him nothing in return.

Oh, and I guess there’s a tree in the frame.

Ba dum tss

What can I say, the guy’s good.

Showing vs telling

OK, so this movie is all tell and no show, except for one single moment. And it’s the exact moment where the original goes in the other direction in terms of how information is conveyed.

See, I never liked this. The revelation is preceded by Iroh giving advice to Zuko who scolds him for nagging. Iroh then apologizes, moves in to say the line above, and is interrupted by Zuko who seems rather uncomfortable with Iroh laying his feelings out like this. And once they’re out, Zuko verbally confirms that he knew already and Iroh didn’t need to bother.

All this extraneous information and pussyfooting ends up weakening what should be a profound scene that reveals to us, the viewers, how deep the relationship between these two in fact runs.

Compare to the movie where Dadroh acts like a parent by fussing and worrying, with Sonion needing a single look to tell him and us that he understands what it’s all really about.

It’s genuinely efficient and just good.

No Cataang

Fine, a bit mean-girl bitchy from me since I only start minding the ship in Book 3. And probably unintentional on the part of the creators since there are moments where I think they’re trying to set the romance up? There’s a, well, an attempt to recreate the famous introductory shot of fateful meaningful destiny of meaningness, there’s some slight note of saving each other’s bacon going on, I’m pretty sure they’re the only ones in the film who smile, and oh, right, Katara’s shoved into her post-canon useless role where she doesn’t ever do anything, and is all about Aang right from the get go.

Yes, I will blame the “executive producers” because a) I’m incredibly petty, and b) it’s perfectly in line with their vision of the character so why the hell not.

Hilariously, none of it reads on screen because the actors are just... yeah. These poor kids are struggling so much with delivering their own lines and portraying their own characters they don’t seem to have any strength left to create something between them. To be fair, the bare-bones shot-reverse shot style of their scenes doesn’t exactly lend itself to the idea they occupy the same universe, let alone are friends or each other’s crushes.

And I enjoy this immensely because it allows me to forget the depressing horror show Katara’s life turns into post ATLA.

Yes Zutara

I need to delve into this because it’s fucking hilarious. So in a movie which fails to establish the original’s central romance so spectacularly that if Aang got lost in a crowd I don’t believe Katara would notice, SomEOnE thought it’d be a good idea to add an utterly unnecessary non-canon moment where Zuko for some reason feels the need to pause his character-defining hunt for the Avatar which otherwise has him ignore everything and snap at everyone, and explain his central conflict to an unconscious peasant he doesn’t know, complete with gently pushing the hair from the pretty girl’s the soulmate’s the Water Tribe Ambassador’s the Fire Lady’s the love of his life’s her face away, AFTER his uncle nagged him twice to find a girl and settle down.

I just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page and this is what we really saw.

Celibate Avatars

I have no idea why the decision was made, if TPTB thought expecting viewers to understand the story through the lens of Buddhism would be too much, or if the “executive producers” already worked their retconny magic. What I do know, however, is that there’s a big shift in worldbuilding and Aang’s struggle with his role as the Avatar stops being a personal conflict defined by a) his grief for Air Nomads, b) his notion of being robbed of the loved ones in his life, and c) the selfish attachment to Katara he confuses with true love. Instead, what he has a difficulty to accept is apparently a general notion of who Avatars are supposed to be, i.e. a fantasy version of Catholic monks, no family and worldly relations, period.

I guess either someone understood the original’s portrayal of de/attachment as “hermit no freaky”, or thought the audience would so why not go there outright.

Now, do I like this on its own? No, God no, it makes the world infinitely poorer and changes the story from an exploration of ideas which aren’t all that ingrained in the West, to a cliché tropester about a Catholic priest going Protestant so that he could be with a girl.

At least I assume that’s where they were going to take this eventually.

I mean, I think the direction was “look conflicted, this isn’t the final stage of your journey”?

But consider this—the show went there, it built on the concepts of Eastern philosophy and touched upon the ideas of spiritual awakening, only to swerve in the end and strongly imply they’re bullshit and Aang should have never wasted his time with them.

So honestly, I much prefer scanty worldbuilding to an insulting retcon by a damn rock.

Multiracial Air Nomads

Probably the most substantial “no hint of irony” point on this list and a genuinely good addition to the universe’s worldbuilding.

See, the notion of the elemental nations being perfectly separate and never mingling before Sozin has always been sketchy but it’s especially ridiculous in the case of airbenders. It never made sense to me for all airbenders to be Air Nomads and for all Air Nomads to be monks and for all monks to be chilling at the temples all the time to facilitate a quick everyone-dies genocide should an imperialistic warlord ever decide to commit one.

Because committing everyone to a single way of life at a handful of places kinda goes against the central philosophy behind airbending. Like the freedom and nomadism part.

Instead, there should be more variety to the airbending culture, with some staying at the temples as monks, hermits, and teachers while others live as nomads, travelling the world and creating more airbenders, with the resulting children in turn being influenced by the non-airbending cultures they grew up in.

And thus, not only should airbenders not be modeled after a single culture to create a one-size-fits-all lifestyle, but they should have the most diverse and dynamic culture out of the four nations.

And it’d be precisely this diversity which would pave way for an eventual reveal that some of them survived, that their complete extermination is impossible.

Because they’re everywhere.

You know.

Like air.

#atla #atla movie #zutara #anti bryke #dev patel #the last airbender #anti-kataang

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comradekatara · 3 years

Note

here's your excuse to tell about arnook and pakku if you still want to, you're welcome. there isn't much discussion about these two for some reason. i will devour everything and anything you have to say, your blog is a blessing

lol this message is 7 months old (and i received multiple others like it) in response to something i offhandedly mentioned in a tag on a post i can no longer find, but yeah the gist of it is i think about the northern water tribe a lot. we only spend 3 episodes there (the first season is more about getting there than it is about exploring the nwt itself; it’s the journey not the destination or whatever), but those 3 episodes are some of the most compelling in the entire show, at least to me. of course, i’m biased, because katara & sokka are my favorite characters (shhh don’t tell aang & toph), not to mention yue is my favorite minor character (shhh don’t tell mai & ty lee), and these episodes allow them to shine in really special ways. so i often find myself contemplating what would happen after the war ends, in terms of katara & sokka’s relationship to arnook, pakku, yue, and the tribe as a whole.

as you probably know, i am a big proponent of #fuck them comics (to be clear, because the themes presented are antithetical to what draws me to the show in the first place, not because the art style is ugly. i repeat, it is not because the art style is hideous and makes sokka look like a buffonish cheshire cat. obviously), and book 2 of lok is just.... a whole mess, so i choose not to consider these instances of – ahem – paratext canon. i am well aware that colonialism and industrialization are forces that cannot simply be stopped by the efforts of a couple of angry [indigenous] kids, only wait. katara literally did that already. time and time again. i find it hard to believe that she would allow colonialism in her southern water tribe. so excuse me if i’m not buying it!

i think that instead, if katara and sokka are going to be in conflict with the northern water tribe, it would be at the source. as de facto world leaders (katara as (future) chief of the swt, sokka as .... holistic problem-solver), they would have to visit the northern water tribe eventually, as much as they would be reluctant to return to this site of injustice and trauma. not to mention that aang and zuko both experienced great traumas here as well (aang becoming the ocean spirit and causing mass destruction against his own volition, zuko nearly dying and watching zhao die) so upon their visit they too would be provoked to confront their demons. since sokka would naturally have reservations about the man, i think they would first approach arnook wrt striking an alliance between nations, since it would (ostensibly) no longer be in their best interest to remain isolationist (i doubt they’d be changing their minds on that without the avatar’s influence, since they didn’t even send aid to the south during the entirety of the war. no shade tho lol).

realistically, i don’t think that katara being allowed to train with pakku would herald some overnight feminist shift. certain women being granted exceptions is not productive feminism, and it’s certainly not equality. upon returning to the north pole for the first time since the war’s end, katara would witness this and be outraged. unlike her first visit, she would no longer have any compunctions about “causing a scene” (not that she had many to begin with), and i like to think know to be true that she would incite feminist revolution. because, that’s what she does. i really don’t buy that pakku read his bell hooks and finally won his way into kanna’s heart, because, while most of the time i laud the nuanced representation of gender in atla, that shit was written by men! (by “that shit” i specifically mean the scene in “sozin’s comet: the old masters” when katara congratulates him for marrying her gran gran. bc uhhhhh.....fuck no.) even if pakku had traveled all the way to the south pole, found kanna, proposed to her, and she accepted out of some resigned loneliness (an extremely bleak thought), the second her babies (katara, sokka, hakoda) return home she is dumping his raggedy ass, and he is returning to the north pole in shame (when asked, he says he helped with the rebuilding effort, but his home is here. no one questions it). so pakku proves kind of a roadblock for katara, as well as pretty much all the other men in the tribe, who make it their mission to passive-aggressively demean and belittle her. but the women of the nwt band together, and many of them become katara’s first waterbending pupils, returning to the south pole with her after katara is thoroughly satisfied with the progressive legislative change she enacted.

as for sokka, his unfinished business with the north is more internal. i think arnook would really respect sokka, constantly showering him in paternal affection and placing in him unconditional (and (what sokka considers to be) unearned) trust. which really, really bothers sokka, because in his eyes, arnook gave him one (1) job, and he failed spectacularly. no matter that there was nothing sokka could have done differently, that it was zhao’s action, and yue’s choice (not that she really had a choice, but still); in “the swamp” we see that sokka carries that guilt of not having protected yue, and arnook, a father figure much like hakoda in many ways, tasked sokka with protecting her, similar to how hakoda told sokka it was his mission to protect katara. we know that is not a request sokka takes lightly. yue sacrificed herself because sokka could not save her, period, end of story. at least in his eyes. sokka has a debilitating fear of disappointing father figures, despite father figures historically adoring sokka, so his relationship with arnook would be.....extremely fraught, to say the least. especially if, on the offchance hahn survived (doubtful. he probably drowned in frozen water immediately), yue’s bitter ex-fiance is in the picture, and steamed as hell that he was forced to give up his opportunity to become the future chief (which begs the question, who does become chief? does arnook have another viable heir?). and of course, there’s sokka’s relationship with yue herself, which, as i have mentioned before (on many an occasion) is not (necessarily) the relationship one has to a dead loved one. we see aang talk to yue in the show, and we have no reason to believe that sokka wouldn’t find a way to communicate with her again. but you know what? that’s for another time...

as for aang and zuko (respectively), their relationship to the northern water tribe has less to with the people and culture there, and more about the traumatic events that transpired. i think setting foot in the north pole (which is ultimately unavoidable, unfortunately) would be pretty triggering for both of them. aang becoming a vessel for mass violence, and literally everything that happens to zuko in the “siege of the north” episodes, are extremely traumatic events that would resurface in their psyches once they returned there. (i think sokka would also apologize to zuko for voting to leave him for dead, even though zuko would be like “don’t be stupid there’s no need to apologize for that.”) ultimately, i think the northern water tribe—its politics, cultural & spiritual worldbuilding, characters, and all the nuances in between—is really compelling and ripe for further exploration. but no i don’t think abt this a lot why do u ask

#finally answered this! woo! time to delete the 5 other asks in my inbox that all say the same exact thing lmao #arnook #pakku #katara #sokka #katara&sokka #aang #zuko #arnook&sokka #hahn #kanna #yue #ok idk who else to tag lmao #asks #mariehuanna

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farty-city · 3 years

Text

inside bo burnham review no one asked for

i enjoy other peoples commentary and i was writing down my first thoughts anyway so here it is

inside

first song/intro song

i like the phone screen on him, very reflective of how we have had phone screens on us

“roberts been a little depressed” osnskjdnfs

they were right “daddys made you some content so open wide” hjbfafn

intro

oh my god he looks awful

but like in a cute way

maybe

healing the world with comedy (second song)

the canned and queued laugher no exactly… is it a symbol or is it just funny.. who's to say.

it think its a good first song, establishing he knows what he is doing is kind of useless

“the indescribable power of your comedy”

he looks like marc maron rn

i like the synthed voice and synthesizer

the jesus allusion … yeah

“i'm a special kind of white guy”

this feels like he knows how he is perceived by fans.. Make happy was too much

his fucking dancing fksjdnfksj

i think he did a good job looking manic

the lasers lmao

Side 1

Bo made a huge gamble releasing this like,,, what if you just stumbled upon it and this was ur first introduction to him..

I bet its like when i comment dumb things on instagram comments and get that rush of hehehehe

NO NOT BO DEVELOPING BILLIE EILLISH VOWELS

Also this is exactly what he wanted like,, he just wanted to make his things and not deal with the crowds so..

To think i was like finding scraps of him performing at largo and stuff and now,, so much content

life imitates art

the way he's literally what he wrote hgbkdf

there is no authenticity with cameras

suicide ?

facetime with my mom tonight

the blue light.. Yeah

o hblue like sad

i don't know how i feel about the electric music but i guess its no different than whatever else i listen to

this is sad wow

still catchy etc

side 2

i wonder if here will be any fart jokes

that is how the world works (songs)

the huge mess and then him in a sweater

this is reminiscent of that walmart muppets

he became tim minchin with a sock puppet

the “yes… yes sir” stoppp

jkgdsnfijwkensfosnf

qbejfnjne

nerjgnoejns

bo making a political statement and a metaphor for activism and then making it weirdly kinky

brand consultant (bit)

man bun

i have to believe he filmed it with the beard because quarantine vibes and also bc he was tired of being seen as a child

white womans instagram (song)

i did not like that intro

BO AND GLASSES THANK GOD

the daisies wow just wow

underwear

“white womans instagram” or “bo burnham becomes a girlboss”

i like that he didn't lose his cadence like the way the rhymes are you can still tell its him

i don't get the mom part sorry

is it like how people are very superficial but also very personal on their instagrams

this part was legit sad

side 3

i wonder how he felt with cameras constantly on him

Although this is the point hes trying to make

lol seinfeld moment (bit)

unpaid intern (bit and song)

“barely people somehow legal” was so smooth woW

omg he was scatting

he was a man who would scat

oh my god what great news

the react clip omg

i cant believe he did that oh my god

observation/critisism and response to the “can anyone shut the fuck up”

and as i realized what he was doing he was like “i have this need for everything i make to have a deeper meaning” oh my god

now the question is how long will this go on?

jeffrey bezos (song)

idk its catchy

and then theres him like sleeping and talking which kind of is part of the jeff bezos song

bug eyes salamanders hehe

sexting (song)

i do believe this is just a silly song

the earrings tho omg

sounds like post malone hbkjdsnfskj

idk its still about like intimacy in quarantine and that stuff..

the knife (bit)

i know hes copying like other youtubers but like,,, what

stuck in a room (song)

the intro is very funny and relatable

classic bo i love it

i will say this special has been more reflective but i suppose it has to be

“look whos inside again”

i like the end too, this is all a fabrication

this is the clip where hes staring at the projection of himself from his old youtube videos which is sort of more like an ending to the “stuck in my room” song

sorry (song)

i love the 80’s style music and its like zumba

oh this is like an apology song

“father please forgive me for i did not realise what i did, or that id live to regret it” what a catchy line

i would say this is another more “classic” bo song where its self aware and funny

“my closet it chalk full of stuff that is vaguely shitty”

camera falling

this deserves its own bullet because its silly

i'm turning 30 (bit and song)

i remember him talking about this on a podcast and like,, damn i didn't know this also happened LOL

i really like how he did the lighting

“stupid fucking ugly boring children”

suicide talk (1)

this is interesting i like the use of the projection

this is something that could never have happened onstage

just like with the it being projected on him

i guess it could but it would have to be done differently and probably hed have to make it funnier to make it more engaging

intermission

i just checked this is about the halfway point.. Mh

i don't wanna know (song)

“i thought it’d be over by now”

i wish this was longer but i kind of like how its just a little snippet and then the cut

video game (bit)

“i guess i’ll cry again”

“is the dude big or is the room small” lol

hm depression

feelin like shit (song)

ohh the lighting is fun again

this is the tone shift i suppose

the feels like supalonely and the new kind of music

atl

panic attack

everything all of the time (song)

feels like brandon rogers

i enjoy this

this feels like “welcome to youtube” grew up

“a little bit of everything all of the time”

“apathys a tragedy and boredoms a crime”

ok olivia rodrigo

finishing the special (bit)

these feel like diary entries but as standup

interesting choice

jeffery bezos (2)

Why the seaweed suit

Where did he get that

the digital space (bit)

suit up, gather what is needed, and return to the surface

damn

pirate map anfdkjfnskjd

this was so stupid (affectonate)

that funny feeling (song)

the campfire vibes

kenny loggins

i don't get it..

is it about childhood, is it about the present?

i think its talking about the end of content?

“the end of culture”, to quote make happy

change and not liking it

“we were overdue, but it will be over soon”

if the second half of the special is like a panic attack this song is like a momentary pause before it gets worse

“so ive been working on this special”/breakdown

this was .. uncomfortable and genuine which i'm sure is why he kept it

all eyes on me (song/rant)

another sad thing to watch.. damn

me trying to tell if the audio was from make happy

i think he was trying to make it as if the audio was from make happy

this feels.. familiar

and obviously that is the point

“come on in the waters fine”

the use of autotune during the talking part... yeah

sad that he was gonna make another special… and it would have been totally different than this

i’ve decided i like the homage to make happy

It feels like hes made peace with it

the montage of him waking up and the “i think i'm done”

and then of course the ending where he's watching it over to remind us that its all fabricated

possible ending song/ “i promise to never go outside again”

ngl he looks good in the shirt with the haircut hehe

which i feel like is what he wants up to notice

and then like not think after we saw all his breakdowns

“i want to hear you tell a joke when no ones laughing in the background”

i really like the medley

Final thoughts

I want a blooper reel, but this doesn't seem like the kind of special

I also wonder if the songs will be on like apple music, but again, doesn't seem like the kind of special

I'm happy for him, he got to be honest and open and show us the sort of panicky stuff

this self aware comedy is exactly the stuff that i think will be making a comeback in the next decade. John better be pulling up with more deconstructed comedy.

I hope this has given him peace

#i am so sorry for clogging the feed #bo burnham #inside #inside bo burnham #make happy #what.#words words words #bo fo sho #oh bo

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soulwillower · 4 years

Text

rude boy III • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader smut)

part 3 of this series!

requested: this has been requested a lot and i dont have enough space to put them all! sorry it took so long!!

warnings: swearing, fluff, smut, bit of angst, a tiny bit of rough sex, but then soft sex, theres lots of crying in this lol but its not v angsty, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, some praise kink, and richie has a hair pulling kink, kinda vanilla tho, unprotected sex, unedited

[losers + reader are aged up 18+ in this.]

5.6k words, oh man sorry

also: i was listening to peach by kevin abstract as i write the car scene :’)

♡

it was one of those days that just didn't stop. one thing after another, from your car breaking down last night to customers calling you sloppy and leaving no tip. the sun rays that shine on your back are warm and cast a long shadow out onto the field in front of you and the breeze makes you sniffle a bit. you'd dropped a whole tray of food on yourself right at the end of your shift, and syrup is drying your hair and dripping down your uniform - you feel like shit.

tears leak slowly from your eyes, feeling sorry for yourself and wondering what you're going to do for the night - you could probably call one of your neighbors, or maybe mike, but you'd left your keys inside your house and nobody was home, so you're stranded without access to your house or a car.

you laugh a bit, in disbelief at the day you've had.

"the fuck are you doing down there, y/l/n? thought you got off thirty minutes ago." a nasally, judging, and pretentious voice calls from a few feet behind you, and you try not to outwardly groan as you quickly wipe away your tears. you sigh in defeat, knowing the tears probably won't dry up in time, and you turn to look at richie.

he's standing with his hoodie in his arm, bathed in golden light and barely more than a silhouette from where he's standing against the dying sun. you really hate how ethereal he looks.

"richie, can you lay off for tonight?" you spit, turning around quickly so he doesn't see your puffy face. "just leave, i don't want to see you right now."

and it's only half true. because recently, you'd actually found solace in richie's company. yes, you still argued, but the fire that surrounds your words are now driven by something more akin to fondness rather than the original animosity. it was freaking you out, but when richie would leave a milkshake with extra whipped cream on the counter for you when he clocked out, or when he stuck his tongue out at rude customers when they turned away, and even when he flirted with you just to be a dick, something tickled inside your chest and you even found yourself flirting back with him. and enjoying it immensely. it was sick.

you thought he'd left you alone but much to your dismay, the familiar beaten red converse high tops smack next to you on the pavement as richie folds his lanky body in two, sitting down only a few inches from you on the sidewalk facing the field.

"what's on your mind?" he says after a few awkward moments and you spare a glance at him. his eyes are taking in your red and puffy face, but his features are concerned. you feel that chest tickle again.

"lots of things. what are you doing?" you say suspiciously, hugging yourself and wiping away stray tears as they fall. you wish you could get up and leave, but it's too far to walk home and it's about to get dark. richie shrugs, playing with his fingers as they sit atop his legs, his knee bouncing incessantly. it irritates you, but you don’t say anything

"where's your car, y/l/n? drive it into a lake or something?" he says instead, completely disregarding your previous question and making you roll your eyes. "shut up, richie. god. i just- my car broke down and-" and your voice breaks and you shove your face into your hands to hide your embarrassment from the boy next to you.

"woah, it's just a car. damn, what's wrong?" richie says and you shake your head as its buried between your hands. "i've j- i have a lot on my mind. can you leave?" you say, pulling your face from your hands to look at him, knowing you look like a mess. it's not like he hasn't seen you cry before, but that was much different than now and you're even more embarrassed that he's seeing you so vulnerable.

"not to be rude, but i'm not going to leave, toots. we don't have to talk, but i really don't think you should be alone." he shrugs, saying it casually as if it wasn't completely out of character for the two of you to hang out. you try not to consider it too much, instead stretching your legs out and gesturing to your skirt. "i spilled earlier." you say weakly but with a lilt of humor in your voice. richie chuckles, nudging your shoulder with his own. "you can shower and wash it when you get home, though."

you sigh, shaking your head as tears fill your vision again. you laugh wetly, "i forgot my keys at home. nobody's there, so i'm..." you sigh, "i'm locked out." the tips of your shoes drag on top of the cement as you laugh regretfully, staring up at the field in front of you and at the groundhog that runs across the ground in the afternoon air.

richie doesn't even laugh like he should have.

"let me take you for a ride." richie says after a few moments, making you turn and look at him. he's looking at you earnestly, head tilted slightly as his curls blow in the breeze. the golden light hits his face in a way that sharpens the angles of his cheekbones and makes him look much more serious than usual. his eyes glow in that same light and he seems so genuine for the first time in his rotten existence that you can't help but whisper, "okay."

it's quiet for a few moments and neither of you move so much as a muscle. the breeze is calm and for some reason, you're much less on edge than you think you should be. richie rises next to you, brushing off his black pants with his palms.

"let's go, sugar." he mutters quietly, holding his hand out for you. you stare at it for two seconds before lightly grabbing it, letting him pull you up quickly. "where are we going to go?" you ask with a sniffle, your tears finally ceasing. richie drops your hand and you follow him to a beat up chevy truck where he opens the door for you, muttering about how its 'broken' and that you'd never be able to open it yourself. it makes you roll your eyes, but you say nothing in response.

"we're going to get you that shower." he finally says as he starts the car. you look at him disdainfully, but deep down you're just relieved that you're going to be able to get clean as soon as you can.

your forehead rests against your outstretched arm laying out of the open window as your hair whips around you, richie coursing down the road into town quickly. a song you don't recognize plays on his stereo and he sings to it, not at all quietly but not too loud to be entirely obnoxious and you're shocked to hear that he's got a pretty nice voice.

it seems to calm you down, so you turn to watch him through the corner of your eyes, admiring the moment because it's going to be over too soon, and you don't want to go back to how it used to be with richie now that you have these weird feelings.

the fighting constantly is exhausting; the sex is great, but couldn't you and richie still have that without wanting to murder each other? whatever happens, you can't show richie how you feel - it'll change everything and he'll never let you live it down. you think it might crush you.

but you can't help it that you definitely don't want to murder him currently. you watch him with a small grin.

he's driving with one hand on the wheel, eyes on the road and an easy look on his face as he sings the chorus of the song, somehow giving you butterflies. it feels almost too peaceful, absolutely nothing like the few times you've spent alone time with richie, and you're sure that he could never truly feel a shred of attraction beyond primally physical with someone like you. the thought makes you want to cry all over again - you bite your lip, wondering if your feelings are brought on by your shitty day, by the mood of the moment, or something else entirely.

maybe it's just him.

he turns to glance at you, as if sensing your eyes on him and the small grin he sends you as he harmonizes the last line of the song makes you blush, turning your eyes back to the scenery zipping by. you barely hear richie's soft chuckle.

when you pull up to the house, you're not very surprised to see it's massive; but when you follow him inside silently you're shocked at the warmth you feel. a woman sits with a mug and a book at the dining table. she looks like richie, but her hair is straight and in a low bun. she's beautiful.

"hi, mom." richie says, pressing a kiss to her forehead. she smiles at him, "hi, honey. how was work?" he mumbles a response and then you make eye contact with her. she smiles even warmer. "oh hi, i'm maggie." she introduces herself. you smile and wave a bit, "y/n. it's nice to meet you."

richie looks embarrassed, "she's my coworker." he explains, filling up a cup with water. maggie nods, "oh, right! i've heard a lot about you, y/n."

richie looks at the floor with red cheeks and you smile at her, nodding awkwardly as your cheeks also turn red.

"we're going upstairs, now." he says and you feel like it's more an order to you than a statement to his mom, so you wave at maggie as he drags you towards the stairs, maggie chuckling as you leave the room.

you step into richie's room and it smells overwhelmingly like him, so much so that you feel the weird tickle in your chest and you know if you spend too much time in here it won't be good for you.

your eyes flicker throughout the room - landing on pictures of him with maggie and who you assume must be his father, of him and his friends, and of random postcards and art prints. paintings of birds as well as other style sketches of mike and several other kids - including richie himself - hang proudly on display, and you’re fairly certain they’re not painted by him, but it warms your heart that he has them. you wonder who did them.

there's posters, records, and a skateboard in the corner. his floor is slightly messy, an empty energy drink on the windowsill that you see has a crushed cigarette on it. you kind of fall in love with it every second longer you stay in it and you're not sure why - it's just so... richie.

"um, just to clarify, i didn't- i didn't, like, tell my mom about..." he says suddenly, and you smirk at him as he trails off while scratching his neck. you laugh, "no shit, richie. that would be gross." you say. he grins with a shrug, quickly back to his usual self. "you didn't seem to think it was very gross when we actually did it. both times."

you shove him, face red in embarrassment. "can i use your shower, douchebag?" you ask and he laughs as he walks out of his room and leads you to his bathroom. "i fucking hate you." you mutter as you follow, glaring at his shoulders as they shake silently with laughter. after he gives you a towel and some clothes to change into, he tells you he'll be in his room and you lock the door behind him.

you shower quickly, using what you assume is richie's shampoo and smiling like a lovesick idiot when you recognize the scent of strawberry. you're still grinning like that as you walk back into richie's room, hair dripping and your body slightly drowning in his clothes. "hey sexy." he says in a teasing tone, prompting you to flip him off, smile still on your lips. he's sitting on his deckchair, spinning slowly from his feet as he watches you sit on his bed. "um. thank you a lot, richie. i'm not sure what i would have done if you hadn't let me come over." you say sheepishly, looking from side to side. "where's my stuff?"

he shrugs, "put them in the wash. they'll be done soon, we can wait until someone gets back at your house. or- you know, if you need a place to stay, i can take the couch tonight."

your heart flutters, your mind barely even taking the time to be shocked anymore at how he is away from work. you'd just assumed...

and for some reason, the realization of everything that's happened makes your eyes watery again. "-hey, y/n, it's okay." he says softly as you close your eyes and shake your head, "no, no i know, it's fine, i'm just being a child." you mutter, rubbing your eyes furiously. richie laughs, "i've seen you act like a child before, sugar. this isn't one of those times."

this makes you roll your eyes and suddenly you feel better. you laugh almost bitterly, "how do you do that?" you ask quietly, more to yourself than richie. he looks at you curiously, crossing the threshold of his room to sit beside you. "do what?" he asks. you shrug one shoulder, "dunno. you're actually good at making me feel better. i almost hate you for it."

"nah, i know you could never hate me." he jests, but again you know there's a ring of truth to it. "as much as i try." you say almost too honestly, and richie gives you an odd look.

"want to hear something kind of lame?" richie asks, already looking embarrassed. you shift a bit to look at him, ignoring the feeling of him that you get from everything around you - the bed sheets under you, the air moving through the room, the soft light of the moon, the clothes you're wearing, the look he's giving you.

"everything you say is lame." you say weakly, but you don't add on, waiting for him to tell you. he shakes his head with a small laugh. "i get excited for your shifts now." richie admits, his cheeks glowing red, "like, actually get excited to see your stupid face when you clock in."

the honesty of it makes you smile immediately, heartbeat quickening. you're shocked, truly. "it's awful, sugar. you're really throwing a wrench in my playboy status." he adds, making you roll your eyes.

"what playboy status?" you ask, biting your lip to conceal a grin at his words - does he feel the same as you?

he shrugs with a limp hand wave, "you wouldn't understand. doesn't matter, not sure if i'm going to be much of a playboy anymore." he says, voice teasing but a strand of truth laced tightly in between his words. it makes you grin down at the sweats on your body. his sweats. they're soft and cozy against your body, and the shirt smells overwhelmingly like him.

"what, you got someone in mind?" you say, half teasing but yearning to hear your name fall from his lips because you don't know if you could say it yourself. he looks at you, "depends on what she wants from me. she’s a pain in the ass, though, don’t know her very well yet."

oh. you nod, realizing that he actually was talking about someone else and feeling bitter. "well. you're an unbearable asshole, so anybody would be a fool to want you." you say, sounding a lot less joking than you intended.

his grin falters and a look that is slightly comparable to hurt flashes across his face. he scoffs, shaking his head.

"doesn't mean much coming from you, does it?" he says with an eye roll and your eyes widen. so much for thinking he liked you. "i was joking." you say, rolling your eyes. he crosses his arms, "if i'm as bad as you think, then that means you're a real sleaze. i mean, you practically beg for my cock every time we're alone, so what does that say about you?" he spits, clenching his jaw and looking away.

your eyes widen, heart breaking at his words. you really dug yourself a hole this time. "why do you have to be so fucking insolent all the time? i swear to god, i do not understand you." you say, standing up and wishing for your tears to not reappear.

this day could not get any fucking worse, could it? through your frustration, you start to make your way towards his door, not wanting a single thing that reminds you of him. "you don't understand me? god, y/n, that's so fucking hypocritical. you're so stuck up that when i was trying to do a nice thing because i fucking care ab- what are you doing?!" he hisses, eyes wide as you shove the sweats off your legs, leaving you in your underwear and his shirt.

you throw a glare at him through glossy eyes, face red with embarrassment and mostly anger, "i'm leaving. i don't need your shit, i need to go."

"and where the fuck do you think you're going?" richie says, following you as you walk towards his door.

"anywhere is better than being here with you." you spit, but his arm reaches to slam shut the door. you whirl around to find him much closer than you'd expected, his eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched in anger. tension fills the room.

"you're just gonna walk down there and dig through my fucking laundry, half naked, in front of my parents?" richie sneers. "no. you're not going anywhere, y/n. i don't care how much of a brat you are, or how much you hate me." he snaps, his breath hitting your face.

something about his words and his tone and most likely the situation you're in makes you swallow and clench your thighs together. damn richie and his hotness, and damn you and your stupid fucking feelings. "fine." you mutter, standing your ground still.

you can almost feel the two of you both fighting against it, but suddenly your lips are on his and hes spinning you, tossing you onto the bed.

"you're so fucking controlling. i hate it." you mutter as he crashes against you on his mattress. "really, princess? because you seem to like it when my cock is inside you." he spits back, cheeks red with anger. you gulp back a sneer, feeling yourself get wetter by the minute as he thrusts against you.

"whatever, richie. just fuck me if you're going to fuck me, or i can leave." you say and he growls, looking pissed. he ruts against you and he's hard already. you'd make fun, but you can feel yourself slick through your underwear and his fingers are already pulling off your panties, palming himself as he kisses you harshly.

"then be fucking good and shut up." he mutters, making you think back to the first time you hooked up. there's a fire between you two as he pulls himself out of his jeans, pumping a few times before running his tip up and down your slit, teasing you. you let out a strangled whimper, trying your hardest not to give in and show him any emotion.

and then he's pushing into you roughly, just as you remember it, and this time you wonder if he can taste your dried tears on your lips as he fucks into you hard.

you clutch him, letting out moans and stuttering breaths as he moves his hips but then he's pulling you closer to his chest, fingers gripping the material of his shirt and suddenly you can smell him.

you smell him everywhere, all around you and it becomes overbearing and overwhelming as you realize that you can't just hide your feelings for richie anymore, especially not with the way he's holding you against him. it seems way too intimate to be just casual, and you feel the stinging behind your eyes at the realization.

you let in a gasp as it hits you, tears for the fourth time today streaming down your cheeks. his face is buried in your neck as he fucks into you so you hold your breath, hoping you'll stop crying quicker than he'll notice.

he hits a spot inside you that makes you moan and a sob escapes with it, making richie instantly perk up, eyes wide as he sees your face.

"why are you crying?" he asks, this time with no sneer, obviously able to read that your tears are from a very raw emotion. he stills himself but stays inside you, elbows stilting him up above you as his fluffy curls frame his face.

you shake your head, your chest shaking with tremors. "keep going." you mutter, trying to rock your hips against his as you squeeze your eyes shut, hot tears streaming down your cheeks. at least you won't have to look at him. "richie, keep going."

"no, y/n, what - am i hurting you?" he asks, and he sounds so soft and nervous, a complete 180 from just a few minutes ago. he starts to pull out and you grab him, trying to make him stay, but he pulls all the way out and mutters, "baby, what's going on?"

and you let out another sob at that, not able to express how heartbreaking it is for him to call you that, for him to be so soft when you know all he wants is just a good fuck.

"please talk to me sugar, i'm gettin real nervous." he mutters and that's enough for you to look up at him through tear blurred eyes. he's gnawing on his kiss-bruised lip, looking like he might cry himself.

you shake your head, sitting up slightly on your elbows and rubbing at your eyes as his shirt on your frame falls over your bare thighs.

"i'm sorry, i'm just - i'm just scared." you mutter, hands shaking. richie's looking at you with wide eyes, propped on his elbow above you. "scared of what?" he asks and you let out a quick, tearful and defeated sigh. "i don't want to make you hate me more. i just - i'm scared because i think i h- i think i have feelings for you. and i’m scared." you mumble it and you watch as his face contorts.

you feel sick for one moment when he looks stoic, and you think he may just do the job for you and kick you out.

but then he smiles a genuine, beautiful smile and you're once again reminded of his unique and beautiful features and you think of how stupid you've been not to see what's been in front of you all this time. the thought makes tears fall from your eyes.

"y/n, doll, i don't... i don’t think you have to be afraid." he says with a shake of his head, sounding slightly nervous himself. you look at him, your heart skipping as he looks back at you, the most serious he's ever been.

"what?" you mutter with wide eyes, trying not to get too excited. he shakes his head, looking just as nervous as you felt, his own eyes welled with unshed tears.

"-i think about you all the time. i don't know why, i can't understand my attraction to you, but it's there. you've got me. and it sucks, because you're insufferable." he admits.

you're so relieved you could fly. something snaps in your chest and you laugh lightly, hand falling onto his cheek to rub his jaw. "what makes you so high up on your horse? you're awful. and how do you think i feel, thinking about you all the time? its disgusting, rich." you say through a watery smile. he returns that same smile and he chuckles, almost as if in disbelief.

he says nothing, instead just kisses you, which you return happily. he slips his tongue against your lip and you feel that the fire is still there - and as you part your lips and he kisses you harder, tongue slipping through your lips, you groan.

he pulls away and kisses a trail down to your neck, his hips now rocking slowly into you and making you moan lightly. "you're so fucking beautiful." he mutters into your neck and butterflies flutter in your stomach. you're throbbing in need as he moves against you but he pulls back to smile at you softly. "do you trust me?" he asks with a grin. you lift a playful brow at him, "i know i shouldn't, but i kind of do."

and with that, he leans down so that he can kiss down your chest and rubbing his hands over your bare legs. you watch him until you realize his intention and your stomach swirls with butterflies. "richie, your parents are downstairs. we don't have time" you whisper bashfully, biting back a moan as he lifts up your shirt and kisses your bare stomach.

"they won't bother us." he says dismissively and you're about to argue but he's slowly placing a thumb against your neglected clit and rubbing gently. it feels incredible and you moan right into the shell of his ear as he slowly moves his finger pad.

he leans back with a grin and you mutter, "okay, rich. if you say so." and then you slip your shirt off and he sits back, pulling his own shirt off. "let me see all of you, baby. i finally get you all to myself." he mutters, rubbing your bare hips. his words send a different kind of shiver down your spine and you smile bashfully, unclipping your bra so that you're splayed out fully naked beneath him.

"shit, doll." he mutters, eyes raking over your heaving chest and down the swell of your stomach and hips and to your legs, his fingers softly trailing after his eyes. "how could i ever hate you?"

you sock him lightly on the shoulder and he laughs quietly, shaking his head. his curls flop on his forehead and you feel that tickle in your chest again so you pull him down to your lips, falling back onto his mattress.

he wastes no time, kissing down your stomach and looking up to you, pulling your legs and draping them over his shoulders. "you want me to taste you, baby?" he asks, mischievous glint in his eyes. you let out a stuttering breath, too aroused to roll your eyes. "please, richie." you whisper, running your fingers through his curls.

he watches you as his tongue sticks out, licking a stripe up your pussy before swirling on your clit, making you gasp in pleasure.

the feeling is sharp and pleasant as he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks lightly, tongue running over your folds. his hands move to hold your thighs as he delves in, your moans quieting as the pleasure increases because you're worried his parents might hear.

his mouth moves on you expertly, his tongue sliding to fuck up into you and making your hips buck, his nose brushing against your clit. you tug on his hair and he groans, sending vibrations through your body that make your toes curl.

its soft as he rubs your stomach, his tongue working you so well that within a few minutes, you know you’re already about to cum.

reaching to cup your face, his thumb presses against your lips and you kiss it softly, making smirk in between your thighs as he kitten licks your clit and draws a gasp from your lips. "rich, oh my god, i'm so close." you sigh out, overwhelmed by how good you feel, by the pleasure coursing through you and the affection for the boy you're with.

he just holds you tighter to his face, lapping your juices up and flicking against your clit before sucking, your thighs tightening. "richie, please, i'm gonna-" and but yourself off with a high moan, hand covering your mouth as you hit your high.

you cum on his tongue, legs shaking as you ride out the first orgasm you'd ever gotten from anyone's mouth and your fingers comb through his hair. "rich, fuck." you mutter in bliss as you come down from your high, full of affection and need.

"you liked that, huh sugar?" he says with a grin as he rises back up to kiss you. you roll your eyes with a small smile, "shut up." you say lightly.

you're still sensitive as you pull him to line up at your entrance. he presses a soft kiss to your lips and you blush, tasting yourself on him. "you sure, baby?" he mutters, and you nod. "yes, richie. please."

and he finally pushes himself in again, this time easing in slowly and kissing you sweetly. your hands play with his curls as he fills you and you moan when he's finally buried to the hilt, still sensitive enough that you clench tightly around him. his hand snakes to pin yours above your head and he holds onto it, keeping you in his hand as he starts to pump into you.

this time it's much slower and with much more intention as he thrusts into you, the first minute moving in very shallow thrusts until you start moving your hips against his in need.

he picks up the pace then and it makes you grasp his shoulder as he thrusts into you, hitting a new angle that makes you let out whimpers every few moments. the feeling of richie stretching you out slowly and hitting a place deep inside you that you didn't realize you needed makes you smile into his kiss.

“look at you, sugar. fuck, you’re so pretty taking my cock like this. god.” he mutters, moaning as he fucks you.

his hand is still holding yours. "you're so amazing." he mutters into your ear, "taking me so well, baby. so good for me." he says, kissing your ear and you whine, dragging your nails down his back in pleasure.

"all mine. i get you all for myself, huh?" he says as he thrusts into you at a passionately slow pace, your hands holding on to his shoulders as you hook your ankles around his hips. "yes, fuck, rich. all yours," you mumble, feeling your second orgasm coming on and chasing it as much as you can.

"please, you feel so good." you beg, unsure what you're asking for but knowing that richie will satisfy it. his hands fall to your hips, "i'm close, sugar." he mutters and he thrusts a bit harder, hitting a spot inside you that has you keening loudly. he chuckles, kissing you and muttering, "shh, sweetheart, we have to be quiet."

you nod, eyes closing as he thrusts into you, one hand slipping up to roll your nipple softly and making you moan his name. as he sucks a hickey on to your neck, his thrusts begin to get sloppy and you clench around him. “god, you were made for me, baby. fuck, takin’ it so well.”

you hit your second orgasm and you softly bite into richie's shoulder, his own moan at the feeling of you clenching around him making you turn red. you feel his hips stutter and he groans as he releases inside of you.

waves of pleasure course through your body and you shake with exhaustion, a blissful feeling coming over you as richie rides out both of your highs, chest pressed against yours and breathing your name into your neck.

he pulls out of you slowly, rubbing your stomach as he kisses you and rolls onto his mattress next to you. you stare at each other and you know you must look like a mess - your hair is still slightly damp from the water, your freshly washed skin is now sticky with sweat, and your face has tear tracks on it, and yet richie mumbles, "you're fuckin' stunning, y/l/n. it’s insane."

you turn red and chuckle, "you're pretty fucking incredible yourself, tozier." he smiles at you, pulling you closer. his fingers dance along your skin and you squirm as he mutters, "no, that's all you, toots."

his fingers, you now realize, are deliberately tickling you, and you let out a few winded laughs, swatting at his hands as the sensation of him on your skin has you giggling.

"y/n! why are you laughing so much?” he asks, but he's releasing little laughs himself, his breath hitting your skin. you can't help the screams of laughter, knowing his parents downstairs can hear you.

"stop, richie, st-stop!" you mutter as his long fingers tickle your sides. "i'm not doing anything!" he mutters through a chuckle. his eyes are soft as he stops his motions and just stares at you, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

he sighs, looking happy, "god, please be mine. i think i'll die if i can't do this with you forever."

your heart swells at the words and you blush, your hands falling onto his cheeks. "of course i will, rich." you mumble, kissing him soundly. his arms encircle your waist and he pulls you towards him, kissing you back lovingly as he pinches your ass cheek lightly. you pull back with a small giggle, "rich!"

he shrugs with a smug smirk and you wack his arm lightly, "you're a real rude boy, you know." you tease, and he shrugs, "you seem to like it." with that, he kisses you softly.

and yeah, you definitely do.

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier smut #we simp for richie every day #losers x reader #bill denbrough smut #stanley uris smut #eddie kaspbrak smut #losers club x reader

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starkeristheendgame · 5 years

Text

Complicated Boyfriends and Cute Waiters

Just a little something for @starkerchemistry for all the love she threw at Complicated Boyfriends and Kidnapping. Also, pls reminds Chems of how amazing her work is bc the lil shit disagrees >:( Also for @starkerintheparker because I keep converting her to WinterSpider >;D WinterIronSpider.

Tony takes one look at his waiter and sighs heavily.

Not because there’s anything wrong; no. In fact, the plush lips and the shaped jaw and the mop of curls desperately styled into something resembling purposeful mess is actually quite pleasing. The large, honey eyes that widen in recognition don’t hurt either.

No. It’s because Tony knows Bucky is going to take one look at this twinky little slip in his smart shirt and his tie and he’s going to want.

And Tony so had been looking forwards to a quiet evening. A little wine, some $80 salmon and perhaps even getting dicked down into the next fortnight by his boyfriend. The standard casual night in.

“Mr. Iron Stark” the boy whelped, and immediately flushed scarlet at his mishap. Tony could only smile quietly into his book, endeared if a little mollified.

“I think ‘Tony’ would suffice” he responded demurely, sliding the bookmark into place and setting his book aside. The boy was now stood bolt upright, and had obviously steeled himself into giving the Best Service Ever, though he looked a little like he might crumble if Tony so much as looked at him for too long.

“Oh, god. Right. Yes. Mr - I mean, Tony. Of course. I’m sorry, I’ve only just started this job and I’m not used to...” The boy trailed off, clearly trying to think of a way to say ‘people like you’ without it coming across as a little insulting. Tony flashed him an easy, warm smile.

“Breathe, kid. I’m just like anyone else in person, I promise. How about you start me off with a nice, fruity red bottle and two double Presidential 25′s, if that’s okay? Take your time; Lord knows my boyfriend certainly is” he teased, head tipping as he disarmed the boy with another dazzling smile.

His waiter could only gape, before he shut his mouth with a painful sounding clack and spun on his heel, fleeing to the nether-regions of the employee zone. Tony gave an amused sound as he checked his phone. It wasn’t like Bucky to run late; that was Tony’s thing.

And then, like Beetlejuice and undoubtedly because Tony had been thinking of him, Bucky came sauntering into the restaurant like some sort of underwear model. His suit was a deep, silken black with a slightly lighter floral pattern in the fabric, the jacket hanging artfully off his shoulders as he swept the room for his lover.

His hair was styled neatly, and Tony still loved the more modernised cut that he’d opted for; longer on one side, layered and fluffy with bangs that fell over one eye constantly. His stubble was a neat shadow on his jaw, and his eyes focused on Tony with such intensity as he approached that Tony lifted a brow.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to out-do me” Tony greeted as he leaned back in his seat, enough that Bucky could duck down and suck his lower lip into his mouth for a brief but promising kiss.

“Actually, I’m just trying to do you” Bucky shot back shamelessly as he slid into his seat, one leg immediately finding Tony’s under the table to press against. Tony gave an indignant sound, because it was both a truth and a lie, but let it go as movement caught the corner of his eye. Much as he wanted to watch the boy approach, he turned back to Bucky.

Storm-grey eyes slid away, following the path his own had left, and oh, yes. There it was. The subtle up-down of Bucky’s lashes as he sized up the boy, the curl of a smirk at the corners of his mouth. Bucky’s gaze drifted back to Tony in an undeniable stake of predator-prey. Tony could only tip his head in response, smirking slowly.

“H-here. I’m so sorry it took a while” the boy fretted, balancing a tray neatly on one hand as he set a tumbler of whiskey opposite each man, complete with artful glass freezer cubes and an empty, polished wine glass besides that, setting the bottle of red - freshly corked - in the centre of the table. He had to lean over a little to do so, and you would have had to be blind to miss the way that Bucky leaned back to sweep over his body.

“What did I say, darling? Treat me like any other rich shmuck in this place. And don’t mind him, he only bites if you ask nicely” Tony hummed, gesturing to his boyfriend, who eyed him both like he wanted to throttle him and kiss him senseless. In Tony’s experience they often came one with the other regardless.

“I - Sorry?” It came out as a question, but the boy was flushed from hairline to shirt collar and fumbled with his notepad, hands a little shaky as he produced a pen from his breast pocket. “Um, are you ready to order? Or would you like me to give you another minute?” He asked, and it was impossible to miss the way his gaze flit between them, eyes raking their bodies like they were two cuts of steak he was trying to decide between.

“Oh, I think Bucky knows what he wants, alright” Tony purred in obvious, gleeful amusement. Bucky smiled at him in a flash of canine, but didn’t miss a beat as he tipped his head back, eyeing the waiter with a charming smile.

“I’ll settle for the stripped, gold-crust steak served rare, and your name, since this moron was clearly too impolite to ask”. And ooohhhh, wasn’t that a low blow to gain favour? Tony pressed the toes of his Louboutin’s into Bucky’s own none too gently.

“Peter” the waiter blurted, eyes flitting between them as he scribbled down Bucky’s order in impressive short-hand, gaze drifting to Tony, who only smiled serenely at his boyfriend.

“You’re so predictable. Always going for the tender, high-class meat. Always liking it raw” Tony purred, and they both knew he wasn’t talking about the steak. Bucky only gave an elegant shrug in response; at a loss to deny it. Peter was looking between them again, vaguely like he might know they were talking about sex, but unable to address it.

“What can I say? I like something solid to sink my teeth into. I like a little juice to lick at and taste. And you of all people know I prefer it raw” Bucky replied steadily, gaze not leaving Tony’s.

“I’ll have the salmon, please, Peter.” Tony hummed, gaze leaving Bucky to look sweetly up at the boy, who nodded and turned, striding away like he was desperate to run away. Tony let his gaze drop back to Bucky. “Less wolf, more fox. He’s a skittish young thing. Haven’t I taught you anything about hunting?” He sighed in mock admonishment and Bucky reached across the table to cup his jaw, smirking.

“Doll, I was fucking people in back-alleys long before you were born. You taught me nothing, old man”. And, well. Rude. “You’re right, though. We might spook him off at this rate. Last time I saw someone that red it was Clint, and he was choking on a mint”. Bucky leaned back, picking up his whiskey and taking an indulgent sip.

They made comfortable small-talk over the time it took for their meals to arrive, Tony lamenting the boredom he’d faced at the quarterly performance review and Bucky noting the progress he and Steve were making with their veteran programs. Tony was proud of his man, really. He’d come so far since Steve had shown up at the Tower with him, both sopping wet and bloodied.

Peter came back no longer than ten minutes later, a plate upon each hand. He delivered Tony’s first, bending down to slide the plate onto the table, and Tony couldn’t resist leaning over, flashing a sweet smile at the boy up close, where he could see flacks of green in his eyes. “Thank you, darling” he murmured, and Peter’s cheeks went red yet again, like Tony simply speaking to him was an activation button for a blush.

Bucky, the brat, had to go one extra. Instead of giving Peter room when the boy bent down he crowded in close, practically licking the shell of the boy’s ear as he whispered a sultry "Thanks, Doll”. Peter’s gaze jerked to Tony, alarmed, but Tony only half-rolled his eyes and picked up a delicate mouthful of smoked salmon.

“You’re a pest” he noted, once Peter had stammered his way into retreating once more. “I had a quiet evening planned” he added, as though it mattered. It didn’t. This practically was his quiet evening, he just now had two desserts instead of one. By the way Bucky eyed him, he knew that, too.

“Shut up and eat your fish” Bucky drawled, popping a cut of dripping steak with tiny flecks of gold powder into his mouth. Obnoxious prat.

But Tony did as told, polishing off the salmon and whiskey both, and filling their wine glasses with a generous serving. It was sweet and rich, just his taste, and he wondered if another waiter hadn’t advised Peter on which choice to bring. “So. The choice is yours” he announced after a pause, when Bucky had finished his own meal and was sniffing daintily at the wine.

“You wanna play sheepdog, or am I?” Bucky asks in answer, lips curving into a wicked smirk that has Tony grinning in response, leg twisting around Bucky’s in a hidden touch. Tony shifted his wine glass in response, allowing a few measly drops to fall onto the edge of his jacket. Good thing he wore grey and hated this suit anyway, because that red wasn’t gonna come out.

Bucky only rolled his eyes, because they’d played this game before, and pushed to his feet. “Woof woof, bitch” Bucky murmured, low into Tony’s ear as he passed, and Tony resisted the urge to drag him back by his hair, to put him on his knees right then. Largely because of he had one more PR disaster this month Pepper got his custom Audi, and he only had four days to go.

It took another short collection of minutes for Peter to come practically skipping over; during which Tony had splashed a few more drops for good measure. “Oh, Peter. D’you think you could help a clumsy old man out? Buck’s gone on a phonecall and I tipped my wine” Tony pouted, putting on his best helpless, sweet aura. Peter’s eyes zeroed in on the red splashed at his hips, tongue peeking out like the solution was to lick it clean.

“Of course! I can - I’ll see if there’s any stuff behind the bar? I can be right back” Peter breathed, but Tony shook his head, pushing to stand. Peter’s eyes are wide now, like a startled deer. They’re stood close enough for Tony to note he has almost a full head on the boy. For a man who’s boyfriend towered over him, it made him rather smug.

“Oh, no need for all of that. Just come to the men’s with me to help me dab the wet patches, hm? At least I won’t reek like a wine cellar on the way home”. He added a charming smile for good measure, turning on his heel. He didn’t need to look to know Peter would follow obediently. Refusing Tony Stark wasn’t good for business, after-all.

Bucky is perfectly concealed when he swings the door open, shrugging out of his jacket and listening to the clack of another polished shoe on the tiles as Peter steps in after him, practically vibrating with nervous energy. Tony carelessly draped his jacket over the edge of the sink and begun to run the tap, because what was a story without details?

Peter hovered closer, clearly unsure of why it would take two men to wash a jacket. “I - What do you need me to do, Mr. Stark?” The boy asks not a moment later, and Tony can’t bite back a grin. Peter has wandered around to his right, which means when Bucky makes his dramatic entrance, it’s gonna be behind the kid.

“Oh, nothing you don’t want to, darling. But if you do want to, then just stand there and let me make you feel good, hm?” He asked, head tilting as he turned off the tap and took a step closer. The hitch of Peter’s breath is audible.

He doesn’t step away, though. Interesting.

“Y-You’re here with your boyfriend” Peter whimpered, even as Tony’s hands came up to his shoulders and chest, petting gently. He trembled under the touch, but didn’t back away, sucking his lower lip into his mouth. Over Peter’s shoulder Tony can see Bucky swing around the edge of a stall door, prowling quietly closer, but he doesn’t dare look up, doesn’t dare alert Peter of the predator at his heels.

“I wouldn’t worry about hurting my feelings, Doll” Bucky purred, low and raspy in Peter’s ear as he pressed up against Peter’s back, until the boy was a pretty little sandwich filler. Peter actually yelped, driving forwards into Tony’s chest, and Tony let his hands fall to slim hips, holding him steady.

“Now, Bucky” he chided, voice softening. “What do we do before we play?” He asked, arching a brow as Peter panted between them. Bucky cast him a pouty but gentle look.

“We ask for consent” he hummed, metal hand reaching up to gently brush aside a curl when Peter whipped around to face him, lips parted.

“Good boy” Tony murmured, gaze dropping back to Peter. They take a step away from him in unison, giving the poor thing some room to breathe. “So. That means you can tell us to stop, and we’ll walk out, pay our bill, and we won’t approach you this way again. Or...You can say yes, and we’ll be gentle, but we’ll make you feel good” he continued.

Peter shifted between them, looking cautious but also like he was two breaths away from sinking to his knees. His voice is small, rough when he finally speaks. “If...What will you do? To make me feel good?” He whispered, and Tony and Bucky wore matching, slow smirks.

“Well. I’m more of a practical person” Tony drawled, eyes roaming Peter’s face for confirmation. He found it in a weak nod, the boy’s pupils blowing as he advanced closer and reached out, him and Bucky closing Peter between them once again. Peter was small between them, lips bitten and eyes wild as Bucky reached down, sliding metal fingers along the curve of his ass and between his thighs, rubbing there like you’d finger a girl, his other hand winding around to press flat over Peter’s stomach.

A wrecked, torn sound slips from Peter’s throat, practically collapsing against Bucky as Tony’s hand dripped down, palming over the half-hard bulge there none too teasingly, the other hand cupping his jaw and tipping his head.

“We’ve maybe got five minutes or less” Tony breathed, licking into the corner of Peter’s plush, pink mouth as Bucky pressed up against him, dropping to mouth at his neck. “I can think of a few things to do”.

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daisiesforlacey · 4 years

Text

clouds - chapter 2 : cirrus

Pair: Julie x alive!Luke

Summary: After her mother’s death, Julie Molina moved away from Hollywood, across the country, to Ithaca, New York. She’s left behind her two loves in life: her best friend, Luke, and her music. There, she finds new friends and enemies, new experiences and joys, she might even find herself. Every night, Luke calls Julie to talk about the clouds. But what if Luke is hiding something?

Word Count: 3,344

Warnings: angsty??? I mean we gotta move the story along soooo

Note: I started writing this and it got away from me! I think this series might be longer than originally intended, but that’s not a bad thing. I can’t wait to delve more into Alex, Reggie, and Carrie’s storylines, but for now, here’s this! Please please comment, like, reblog; feedback is always appreciated :)))

Masterlist

Taglist

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The morning had been much chillier than the previous day. On their way to school, Julie and Flynn had bundled up in their favorite sweaters and scarves, along with matching thermoses of tea. Julie had tried to stuff her hair into a wool hat, but after failing miserably, she settled on tying her hair back into a ponytail. Flynn had offered to help style her curls that morning, but she had declined.

The ground next to the sidewalk was blue with frost and they could almost see their breath if they squinted hard enough.

In Ithaca, the winter was dryer, she had found that her lips chapped more often and she seemed to constantly have the sniffles. In L.A, when it got colder, it mostly rained, snow was far and few between and was never terribly enjoyable; the second it hit the ground it would become this sort of grey sludge. One thing they both shared was the unpredictability. Seeing the sun one day did not often guarantee a warm week, which left Julie to keep an array of coats of different thicknesses.

There weren’t too many clouds to see, if she tried hard enough, she might be able to make out a flying saucer. She shook her head, spaceships were too easy and basic; anything could be a UFO.

As they walked and the sun slowly rose, they talked about their upcoming day; if Carrie was going to be tolerable, if they would be getting new music projects, and who was buying lunch.

Luckily for Julie, she could already feel the air warm up, unfortunately, the conversion had shifted to Luke.

“How is your friend? Liam, or whatever?” Flynn asked, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“Luke,” Julie snorted and looked down at her hands, “He’s doing well, he didn’t see too many shapes yesterday, so our conversation was relatively short.” Flynn knew about their nightly calls, but Julie had left out most of the reason they happened. Flynn didn’t need to know how much she missed her friend, she didn’t want the other girl to feel inadequate.

“It’s really cool that you guys still keep in touch, if all of my friendships drifted apart that nicely, Carrie…” Flynn drifted off into thought at the mention of Carrie. Contemplating Julie, frowned, she didn’t particularly like to think that she and Luke had drifted, but she supposed they had literally done just that.

“Well when you have a history like Luke and I have, it’s impossible not to talk to him.” Julie didn’t mention that he seemed to be a part of her that was now missing, or that Luke had this sort of magnetism that drew anyone and everyone to him, or that when they wrote songs together she had felt more alive and seen than anything.

Those things didn’t need saying, those things had been left in L.A.

But in here she had Flynn and a small town and a family.

A broken family, she thought.

---

As Nick finished his guitar solo, his lacrosse buddies whooped and hollered in the small music room.

It was smaller than the one back home, but just as welcoming. Cinder block walls had been covered with sound absorbers and music posters ranging from “hang in there” cats to major and minor scales to student made flyers, advertising the school dance coming up.

Their mascot, a yellow and black cougar, had been painted on the wall by an art club some time ago. It was slightly lopsided and its snarling mouth looked more mangled, but the sentiment was there.

Julie had zoned out long before Nick had started, staring at the chipped paint on the wall. She knew the second she walked up to the piano to play, she would freeze. No amount of mental preparation could prepare her to set her fingers on the ivory keys and play something, anything.

“Okay, we have one last performance,” Her teacher said, “Julie.”

The girl looked up slowly. She stumbled toward the piano with hesitant steps. She sat down with a sigh and opened the sheet music. Her blood was rushing and her head was pounding. The room seemed to blur and spin, but was also eerily still and quiet.

She could feel the eyes of her classmates boring into her skull. As they watched her, she could guess what they were thinking, here we go again, I wonder if she’ll actually play this time, just get on with it.

Julie knew that Flynn was trying to encourage her, even from where she was sitting, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at the girl.

“Take your time,” Her teacher assured.

Julie might take forever.

She opened the case of the piano and grazed her fingertips on the keys. They were cold and unforbidding. The second she pressed one of the keys she knew that she would break.

Memories of her mother would come rushing back; every scraped knee, every hand holding in the parking lot, every crush whispered in secret, every night spent over the stove learning what spice goes in when, every uncontrollable fit of laughter.

She would remember every Christmas and Easter that they would break out her Abuela’s Arroz Con Leche recipe, every concert they went to where they would scream lyrics until their throats were raw.

Every failed test that her mother had stayed up late to help her study for, every flu shot where her mother still held her hand, no matter how old she got.

Every note written or melody sung would fill her mind. She didn’t know what would happen when it did, and she desperately didn’t want to find out.

She stood up, “I’m sorry.”

Julie thought she heard Carrie say some snarky remark and that Flynn had retaliated, but she couldn’t have been sure before she was rushing out the door.

After the school day, Flynn and her walked home as quickly as they could, sometimes sprinting. They needed to beat Julie’s father home after he picked up her brother, Carlos, up from his own school. She was praying that he hadn’t heard the news that she was out of the music program yet.

She groaned as she saw his car already in the driveway

Flynn quickly hugged her, “It’s fine, he’ll understand.” She withdrew from the hug and held Julie at arms length with a sympathetic smile before they had to part. Flynn waved as she unlocked her front door and stepped inside.

Julie took a sharp breath in before doing the same.

---

“So is ‘Clocks move faster / cause it’s all were after’ the first pre-chorus or the second pre-chorus?” Reggie ran his fingers through his hair, his nose scrunching, “Because wouldn’t it just make more sense to have the same pre-chorus on each verse?”

The brunet’s bass was slung over his body as he rested his hands on the body of his guitar. He looked over to Luke, who was crouched over his lyrics.

Luke shook his head , his air already dripping with sweat, “It’s the second pre-chorus, the first is ‘Clocks move forward / but we don’t get older.’” He semi, sang, strumming along on his guitar. “Changing it up adds movement, we don’t want to bore the listeners. It keeps the theme of staying young at heart.”

Reggie nodded and plucked at his bass, testing out different rhythms. Moving his hands up the neck and over the strings, he finally settled on some semblance of a tune, repeating it over and over again.

Alex joined him, adding a hit on each of the beats of the song. This gave the song a drive and pounding rhythm, working with Luke’s line of ‘Electric hammer to the heart.”

Luke stood up after scribbling something and added his guitar part over it, humming along with the melody, and soon they got well into the song, improvising along the way. There were still some wrong chords and off beats, but they had the bones of what they felt like would be a hit.

Luke had gone from humming to singing, Reggie and Alex joining in. Luke felt his pulse quicken as he grinned.

“‘We ain’t searchin’ for tomorrow’,” Alex sang, to which Reggie echoed, “‘Cause got all we need today’.”

Luke bopped along, “‘Living on a feeling that’s been running through our veins.”

They looked back and forth to each other, knowing what was coming next.

Reggie was supposed to have a line to end the bridge, but it hadn’t been written yet. Luke had spent hours trying to come up with something, but it just didn’t click, every line he wrote either changed the meaning of the song or was too clumsy.

Luke sighed as they all stopped playing and he cast an apologetic gaze to the bassist, “I’ll get it. I promise.”

The boy in the flannel just shook his head, “No worries bro, we’ve done a lot in,” He checked the clock on the wall and his eyes widened comically. “Five hours…”

This mock practice session had started in Alex’s garage right after school after Luke had presented them with a song at lunch.

“It’s totally us,” He had said, sliding to the table with a lunch tray and a scribbled mess of paper, beaming, “Totally mid 90’s. And look, you-,” He pointed to Alex who looked excited but skeptical, “Can start the bridge and you-,” Luke turned his attention to Reggie, “Can echo, ending with…”

Luke trailed off, he didn’t have an ending line yet, he knew it had to be perfect. Everyone knows you can’t end a bridge without a call to action, something that stirred and emotion so deep that you couldn’t help but sing along.

He sighed as his mouth twisted, “I don’t know, I haven’t found the perfect line yet.” He looked down at his chicken scratch, then slid the paper across to Alex, who examined it.

“I like it, have you decided where the harmonies should go yet, or nah?” Alex flipped his blond hair back, after adjusting it in his snapback. He was already trying to decide what type of beats he would do, where the drum fills would be, and what he should consult Reggie on.

The makeshift band had a process: Luke would write a basic lyric and chord progression and then he would bring it to the guys. From there Alex would come up with the heartbeat of the song with Reggie. Reggie would work with Luke to see what melodies he should be playing and how he and Luke would bounce off of each other.

When they came together, the three friends would look at who sang what, harmonies, and fill in the gaps in the music. They worked like a well oiled machine

But lunch had been 7 hours ago and it was now 8 o’clock, well past when Luke should have been home. The boy jumped as he looked outside, saw it was dark, and cursed under his breath. He quickly put his guitar on his stand and grabbed his book bag, then ran out with a wave to Reggie and Alex.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow, if I’m still alive,” he called before getting on his bike and going home.

The air was damp and it had just rained, making the pavement slippery. Despite being almost winter, the weather was warm enough to where he only had to put on a shirt and jeans to be comfortable.

On his way to his house, Luke looked to the sky. He cataloged some shapes of dark clouds, moose, cat, spaceship, he thought. He chucked to himself, anything could be a space ship, it wasn’t creative enough, all the cloud had to be was somewhat circular.

His mind drifted to Julie and what she would have to say about these clouds. She would probably smile, her adorable gap showing, and tell him all of the wonderful odd shapes she would see.

“There, right there, a cat chasing a dog,” She would say, “No, no, scratch that, a dog chasing a cat chasing a pigeon. Wait sorry, a shark without a back fin. Or maybe a line of ducklings crossing a street.” Then she would narrow her eyes as the clouds shifted and formed new images, “Well now I don’t know what I see.”

Luke would then look over and tell her that everything she saw was amazing, even if it was truly unremarkable. She was always able to see things he couldn’t, even if it was something as menial as a cloud. She could look at him and know exactly what was wrong no matter what; he didn’t know if she was truly super powered, or if he was super transparent.

Which was why he was glad she couldn’t see him on their calls.

She knew about Reggie and Alex, they had met before she left, but she didn’t know that they played music together. She didn’t know that Luke was writing songs with them like he used to with her. He didn’t want her to feel replaced.

And as far as she knew, his parents were completely fine with his music. They may have had little gripes here and there, but she thought that was the extent of it.

As he arrived at his house and opened the front door, that wasn’t the case at all.

“Lucas Patterson!” His mother yelled from the kitchen, “Do you have any idea what time it is!”

Luke winced as she ran into the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. He could see that the dining room table had already been cleared and the leftovers put away.

“It is 8:14! Would you like to tell me why the hell you missed dinner again for the third time this week? No wait! I bet I know! Let me guess, you were at Alex’s!” Her eyes were steel. It wasn’t a question, they both knew the only thing that would keep him out at night would be music with the guys.

He gripped the strap of his back pack before looking at the floor, his knuckles white. “I’m sorry Mom. I just lost track of time, you know how I get.”

Emily smoothed her brow with her fingers as her husband walked in from the kitchen. “At least tell me you did your homework.”

Luke didn’t answer.

His mom threw the dish towel to the floor, “Luke we had a deal! You can keep playing your guitar and going to ‘band practice,’” She used air quotes, “As long as you did your homework before then and always made it home for dinner. Always! Your family and school work is important! I know you don’t think so, but as long as you live under our roof, you abide by our rules!”

He threw his hands up and scoffed, “I’m not going to stop playing music, it’s my life! And you can’t stop me! I am sorry if I miss a few family dinners a week, but isn’t that fine if it means I’m happy?”

His mother looked at him like he had sprouted another head, “Son, I know it’s been hard ever since Julie left, and I know you miss her but--”

“But what Mom? There’s nothing I can do about it, she’s in New York! And the only thing keeping me connected to her is music, and right now, you don’t even let me have that.” Luke stormed through the living room into his room.

He dropped his bag down with a thunk, and sat on his bed, smashing his head into a pillow and screaming. He regretted that he didn’t bring his guitar back, if only to take out his anger by shredding on volume 10.

The day kept getting later, and while he didn’t like calling her while angry, he dialed Julie’s phone number.

The phone rang a couple times before she picked up, “Hello, this is Her Majesty Queen Julie Molina, what is your concern peasant?” She said in a haughty voice, before her façade broke with a giggle.

“Well Your Highness, I have come to discuss today’s weather.” He replied, playing along, her voice instantly making him feel better.

“Today we have seen a couch, a baby, and many many trees.”

“I have also seen many trees; they are very common in the sky.” Luke laughed, “I may have also spotted a suitcase and an umbrella. Sadly my Queen, the rain made it quite hard to see too many shapes.”

Julie clicked her tongue, he could see her face now, her nose scrunched and her mouth down turned, “That is a downright shame. Is there any news to report?’”

Luke perked up at that and rushed to get the words out of his mouth, “Actually, yeah. I wrote a song, ‘Now or Never,’ and it’s actually not that bad. Except I can’t figure out this one line, and it’s been bugging me all day.” He huffed, “Do you wanna hear it?”

She replied just as giddy as he is, “Of course!”

The brunet then launched into singing an a cappella version of his song from memory, stopping here or there to say things such as, “A harmony would totally go here,” or “Add a little guitar riff and it’d be perfect.”

He kept going until, “‘Living on a feeling that’s been running through our veins’. And then of course another line, and then the chorus.” He was staring at his popcorn ceiling now, smiling like a kid in a candy shop.

Julie paused, then said, “We’re the revolution that’s been singing in the rain.”

“What?”

“That’s it, that’s your missing lyric.”

Luke froze, she really couldn’t get any more perfect.

“Queen Julie, you are a genius!” He jumped off of his bed to grab a scrap of paper off of his messy desk before writing down the lyric. “You songwriting genius! If you have stuff like that flowing through your brain, how aren’t you playing it?”

He didn’t mean to bring it up, it just sort of happened. But it was true, how could she be so good at writing and let it go to waste?

Julie cleared her throat, “Well actually--”

“You sang again? I knew it, I knew you would!” Luke cut her off.

“Well no,” She rushed out, he could already see her running her hand over her face in exasperation. He has to stop interrupting people. “I got kicked out of the music program. I haven’t played anything since I got here, and I couldn't either today. I guess that was the last straw, because my teacher called my dad and said that unless I could play something by the end of the week, I need to choose a new elective.”

They sat in silence.

Luke played with his hands, knitting his fingers together and pulling them apart before an idea came to him, “What about your mom’s song. Not for class I mean! But, if just to sit down at your piano again and play something, what about that? She wrote it for you after all. And then maybe afterwards you’d be good to play for your class and boom! You’re Julie, songwriting pianist extraordinaire again!”

“I-I don’t know about that, Luke,�� She swallowed. Right before her mom passed, they had written a song together, but she hasn’t even been able to look at it since she moved. If she sat down to play it, she’d be accepting all of those memories back. But then again, if she needed to sing anything it would be her mother’s song. They had taken a few months to write it, and Julie’s mom had completed it before…

“I mean maybe. I’ll see. I’ll try.” Julie nodded to herself and gave a determinant look to her wall. Tomorrow morning she would go to her garage and play her mother's song.

“You promise?” Luke asked tentatively.

“I promise.”

“Alright. I guess I should go, it’s probably pretty late where you are. I’ll see you soon?”

Julie nodded, “See you soon.” Then hung up.

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